Small Town Secrets

by Molly Kate Gray

  “The Millers are my neighbors.” Tara reached into the floorboard to pick up her purse.

  “You live next door to the jerk?”

  Tara held a warning finger to her lips. “That jerk can hear you.” She nodded in the direction of the porch swing. Leading the way up the asphalt driveway, she dug her keys from her bag. As they stepped onto the first stair, Rosie’s welcoming bark echoed down the quiet street.

  “She’s a good alarm system.”

  Tara rolled her eyes and laughed. “She’s loud. But she’d just lick anyone to death. Get back.” She pushed the overexcited mixed breed back as she sped to turn the actual alarm off.

  “That makes me feel better.” He averted his eyes as she punched in the key code.

  “Having an alarm? Why?”

  “You live here. By yourself. On the Hill.” Josh spoke slowly as if he were speaking with a toddler.

  Tara frowned slightly. They were back on that topic of conversation. She slid her jacket off and hung it on the coat rack next to the front door. “This area’s always been pretty safe.”

  “Except for now.”

  Tara nodded. Each of the three attacks had occurred within two blocks of her house, but the Hill was the oldest and most affluent area of Miller’s Grove. When a series of art thefts happened in town two years ago, the Hill had been targeted back then as well. “Guess I’d better hope that Rosie might have a change of heart if he managed to get in.”

  “That’s not something to joke about,” Josh snapped back at her.

  “Trust me.” She couldn’t hide the irony in her voice. “I’m well aware of that.” She let out a long breath and tried to put a pleasant expression on her face. “Sorry. I think I’m letting the story get to me.” She silently prayed that he wouldn’t realize exactly why she looked so tired lately. She’d been waking up every time Rosie even stirred in her sleep. “I have an alarm, and I have Rosie. Mrs. Conyers lives in the house across the street, and she sees everything. Trust me. She’ll probably even be calling later tonight to make sure I’m okay.”

  “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Tara shook her head at her own overreaction. After he’d gone to such trouble to plan what was literally the perfect evening for her, she didn’t want it to end on an awkward note. “Would you like something to drink?”

  • • •

  Studying Tara’s forced smile, he wasn’t sure what his answer should be. As she stood in front of him, twisting a strand of hair around one finger, she seemed so genuine. “Sure. That would be great.”

  She bit her lip and turned in the direction of the kitchen. “I don’t have a lot to offer.” She spoke as she walked to the refrigerator. “I don’t drink.”

  “Well, there’s probably something in here.” He leaned over her and was surprised as she didn’t flinch as his hand brushed against her back. He spotted the bottle of apple juice in the back corner of the top shelf. “Do you have any cinnamon?”

  Tara turned her head and raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

  “Apple cider.” He dug the jar out from behind the ketchup. “Oh no, you’re one of those women,” he teased. He waited for his words to sink in. “You don’t cook.” Placing the apple juice on the counter next to the stove, he turned and looked at Tara from over his shoulder. “Good thing I do. Do you have any cinnamon?” He repeated his question.

  “I think so,” Tara nodded slowly as she seemed stunned to watch him comfortably moving around her kitchen.

  “And you had caramel in here, didn’t you?” He opened the door to the refrigerator and pushed the glass jars and bottles around until he found what he was looking for. “There it is.” He backed up and juggled the jar between his hands. “Mugs?”

  Tara handed him the cinnamon as she brushed past him to get to the lazy Susan. She plucked two hunter-green mugs from the stand, and he reached for them. Josh couldn’t help but notice Tara’s eyes widen as their fingers made contact. “You can go relax. I’ve got this.” He pulled a pot from the cabinet beneath the stove and added his assembled ingredients.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I know you are.” Josh was rewarded by a soft flush on Tara’s cheeks. He liked this non-business side of her even more than the Tara he knew at the station … and he was quite fond of that one. “But still, why don’t you go in the living room?” He opened the lid of a canister and peered inside. As she didn’t begin to move, he shooed her in the direction of the couch.

  “You don’t want me to know how you make the cider.”

  Josh nodded. “It’s an old family secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “I’m going.” Tara giggled as he took a step in her direction. “Rosie, you can share the couch.” She pushed the dog aside as she took a seat and reached for a blanket. “The worst thing about these historic houses is how hard it is to keep them warm. Can’t sell it, though. It’s been in the family since 1820.”

  “I don’t mind.” He lifted a spoon of cider to his lips and tasted it before adding a dollop of caramel. Giving the drink one last stir, he ladled it into mugs and turned the burner off. He handed her the cider and waited for her to take the first sip.

  Tara blew into the cup before taking a hesitant drink. She smiled widely. “This is really good.”

  “I can’t take credit. It’s my mom’s secret recipe.” Rosie scooted next to him and rested her head across his lap.

  “She was a good cook?”

  Josh nodded. “The best. I think you would have liked her.”

  Tara leaned her head against the back cushion of the couch. “She sounds pretty different from my mom.”

  They fell into small talk. Tara described growing up in her older brother’s shadow. In many ways, it seemed the age difference made David almost a father figure to his little sister. Tara couldn’t imagine living too far away from her brother.

  Josh described the different towns he’d lived in as his father’s career took the family all over the country. After he graduated from college, he followed his dad’s example. As his career took off, he sometimes lived in two cities during a single year.

  “I don’t know how you lived like that.” Tara shook her head as she placed her empty mug on the side table beside her.

  “I didn’t mind.” Josh drained his cup and rested it on the coffee table. “Made dating difficult, though.” He’d meant for his comment to be light, but it hung in the air between them. Ever since Florida, he’d been fighting it … the knowledge that he was attracted to Tara. Some days he had to stay behind the anchor desk for five extra minutes or everyone in the newsroom would be aware of it as well.

  Now, as the clock struck two A.M., Tara looked at him from behind heavy-lidded eyes. More relaxed than he’d ever seen her, she shifted ever so slightly on the couch in his direction.

  Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and stroked her hair back behind her ear. Her breathing sped at his touch, but she didn’t pull away.

  He couldn’t believe he was nervous. When he was in New York, he dated a different woman each week, but this was different.

  He gazed down at Tara’s lips, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. As his lips met hers, they were everything he’d imagined at night while he laid awake in his bed. At first, she didn’t respond, but gradually she yielded to him.

  Soft and warm, he deepened the kiss and his tongue skimmed along her teeth. She sighed into his mouth while he reached around her back and pulled her closer against him. Her fingers ran through his hair as her tongue tentatively explored his lips. He needed more contact. Leaning forward, he pressed into her.

  And then everything changed. She stiffened under his touch and began pushing him away. “I can’t do this.” Panicking, Tara couldn’t seem to catch her breath as she pounded against his chest. “Stop.”
<
br />   Josh backed away in shock.

  “I’m sorry.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “You’ve got to go. Please.” She pushed him off the couch and waited for him to walk to the door. Shaking her head, she brushed at her cheeks. “This was a bad idea.” She held open the door and refused to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  The door slammed and locked behind him before he understood what was happening.

  Chapter Nine

  “What did the poor plant do to you?” Tara jumped as David climbed the stairs leading to the front porch. He pointed at the cluster of spent fern leaves in her hand. “Did it forget your birthday or something?”

  Tara covered her face with her empty hand. “Oh my gosh. I didn’t.” She felt the blood rising to color her cheeks. “I did. It’s your birthday.”

  David crossed his arms and leaned against one of the white columns next to the stairs. “Every October 13.”

  She plucked another withered fern frond from the oversized hanging basket, shaking her head at her own absent-mindedness. “I can’t believe I forgot. I’m the world’s worst sister.”

  Her brother watched her in silence. His dark brown eyes followed every movement she made. After Tara finished pruning one plant and moved onto the next, he’d seen enough. He leaned over and dusted one of the blue- and white-striped cushions and plopped onto one of the wicker chairs. “Out with it.”

  Tara flicked her eyes in his direction as she crumbled the leaves in her hand and tossed them in the flowerbed lining the porch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on, you’re a worse liar than Jaden.”

  “Is that supposed to be an insult?” Tara tried to steer the conversation in a different direction.

  “You forgot my birthday. Come on. I could believe it if Mom and Dad had forgotten, but not you.” He pointed and squinted at the plant she was currently standing near. “And you’re gardening. You only do that when you’re mad.”

  “I do not.”

  David raised an eyebrow and waited.

  Tara stared back at him.

  He tapped his fingers along the weathered armrest of the chair.

  She looked away, searching for something to focus on. She examined the chipped chair legs. She really needed to repaint them before winter.

  “Stop analyzing the furniture.” David sounded like he did when he changed into dad-mode. Whether he was talking with her or her nephew, his voice always came out the same.

  “Okay.” She stomped her foot in annoyance. “You’re right. I am mad.” Dropping the last of the fern in the flowerbed, she dusted her hands against her jeans. “But I’m angry at myself.”

  David relaxed as he sat back in his seat and linked his fingers behind his head. “That’s not unheard of — especially for you.” He crossed his leg over his knee and tapped his hiking boots on the glass tabletop. “So, what’d you do? Mess up a senator’s name on the air?”

  Tara punched his arm. She’d only done that once, but David was never going to let her live that down. “No. The broadcast was fine on Friday.”

  “Then spill.” A dimple formed in his cheek. He waved as Mrs. Blevins walked her dog along the sidewalk past them. Buster seemed to be leading the way. Right on cue, Rosie appeared at the bay window and started barking loud enough to draw the attention from the neighbors taking advantage of the unusually pleasant Sunday morning.

  Tara looked uneasily at the houses on either side of hers. The Miller’s gardener knelt amid the bushes, and she wasn’t certain if he was pulling weeds or trying to listen in on her conversation with her brother. “Not here.” She motioned to the door.

  David gave her a curious look as he stood and followed her. Reaching the beveled glass entry door first, he took hold of the handle and held it open for Tara. “After you.” He waited for her to walk inside before he followed. After closing the door behind them, he nodded toward the kitchen. “Tea?”

  “No. It’s not that bad.”

  David hesitated. “Well, I think I’m going to fix some anyway.” He wandered into the kitchen and took hold of the red ceramic teapot on top of the stove. As he filled it with water, he narrowed his eyes at the two coffee mugs in the sink but didn’t say anything. Instead, he lit the gas burner and waited — his eyes never leaving his sister for too long.

  Tara recognized his counselor mode. He’d been in his last year of graduate studies when they lost their parents in a car crash. Tara felt as if she’d been his own personal research project as he waited for her reactions. Back then, she joked that he was the one who kept her sane after going three years without talking with her parents — only to unexpectedly lose them as a result of their father’s stubbornness.

  “You’ve had company.” He watched her initial reaction before turning his back on her as he rummaged through the kitchen counters. “Did Lainey come over last night?”

  “You’re digging.”

  He pulled two mugs down from the middle shelf and turned to look at her. “You’re the one who said to come inside to talk. I’m just making conversation.” The mugs jolted against the granite countertop, and he spooned sugar into each. He paused and looked at the door on his right. “Is it safe for me to go in the pantry?”

  Tara sighed. “I’ll get the tea.” Rolling her eyes at her brother’s not-entirely-veiled comment about her kitchen organization, she opened the door and plucked the box of peppermint tea from the bottom shelf. Handing him the box, she smiled. “On the bottom shelf. Exactly where it was supposed to be.”

  “If you say so.” The teapot whistled behind him, and he turned to quiet it. Clicking the burner off, he poured the water in the two mugs. David slid Tara’s cup to her while he picked up his own steaming mug. “Living room or kitchen table?”

  “If you’re going to play counselor, we might as well sit on the couch. Makes it feel more realistic.”

  “You know I don’t even have a couch in my office, at least not since I started working at the high school.”

  Tara blew into her cup. “You should.”

  “And you should stop beating around the bush.” David pushed Rosie from the recliner and the dog glared in his direction before following Tara to the couch. Turning in two tight circles, she settled happily on the cushion and placed her head in Tara’s lap.

  Tara ran her fingers through her dog’s gray and white fur as she balanced her tea on the arm of the couch. “There’s not much to tell.”

  David arched an eyebrow in her direction. “Then whose glass was the second one in the sink?”

  “I went out last night.” She hesitated, waiting to make sure she thought through her next words. “Not just with the girls.”

  David sat up higher in his seat. “You went out? That’s … really good.” He placed his drink on the side table. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “It’s not like that.” She waved her hands before David got the wrong idea. “Really. It wasn’t a date date.” David settled back in his chair and relaxed — signaling that she had all the time she wanted to tell the story. “You remember the auction.”

  “Vividly,” he smirked. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever gotten that many phone calls in one night.”

  “Well, a night out was part of the package.”

  David’s eyes widened in surprise. “You went out with Josh.”

  Tara nodded. “It didn’t mean anything.” She blurted the words out so quickly; even she could tell she was denying it.

  “But you wanted it to.”

  “Ugh. You know I hate it when you try to counsel me. Save it for your kids at school.”

  “Sometimes you need a little counseling. You know, I could charge you for this.” David waited and then rephrased his statement. “Didn’t you? You wanted this date to mean something.”

  “Of course I didn’t. No.
I don’t know.” Tara bit down on her cheek. She placed the mug on the coffee table and massaged her temples with her free hand. “At least I didn’t think I did.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Angry tears burned her eyes as she fought to form words.

  “Start at the beginning. Where did he take you?”

  Tara lowered her head and laughed. “To this little hole in the wall place in Conyers. He said they have the best cheeseburgers he’d ever eaten. Lainey apparently told him they were my favorite.”

  “Y’all drove two hours for cheeseburgers?”

  “Yep.” Tara scratched Rosie’s side and was rewarded by the dog’s tail thumping rhythmically against the leather couch.

  “Was that all you did?”

  “No.” Tara bundled her hair into a makeshift ponytail and twisted it around her index finger. “We went to a drive-in movie. Godzilla versus something.” She hesitated and forced a smile. “He’d seen the little figure on my desk from Japan. He thought I’d like it.”

  “He drove two hours for cheeseburgers and then took you to a drive-in because you have a plastic figurine on your desk.” David smiled gleefully. “He’s got it bad.” His eyes fixed on hers. “And you like him. Oh, that’s gotta make it interesting in the newsroom.”

  “I don’t know.” Tara shifted in her seat. “I mean, it was nice. We came back here. I had apple juice in the fridge, and he fixed cider.”

  “He can cook. That’s good. He won’t starve to death if y’all get together.”

  Tara narrowed her eyes and glared in his direction. “Not funny.”

  “Yeah, it was,” David laughed as he tried not to spill his tea.

  “Rosie even liked him. We sat on the couch and talked.” Tara took a hesitant breath. “For the first time since … ” Tara blinked as tears blurred her vision. “For the first time … ”

  “Hey, I know.” David reached over and squeezed Tara’s hand. “For the first time in a long time.”

  “I felt something for someone. We sat on the couch, and we talked. And then we weren’t talking anymore.” Tara stood and began pacing. “He kissed me and I liked it.” She shrugged her shoulders and stared down at the carpet. She glanced at her brother and his face told her everything. He knew what was coming. “And then he leaned a little more on top of me, and I freaked out. I made him leave.”