The Bad Boy's Secret Romance

by Jessie Gussman

  That didn’t mean that she was happy with the way she was. She would like to be able to let things go. The idea that with practice she could was compelling.

  “I understand about personality types. But there’s always room for improvement. Maybe you need to get upset more. And I need to get upset less.”

  With his typical easygoing attitude, he shrugged. “Makes sense.”

  “You know for a man, you’re okay.” She didn’t mean it as an insult, but after she said it, she realized it kind of was. Still, she couldn’t take it back. She couldn’t apologize for it either. She actually kind of meant it.

  “Yeah, I kinda got that impression. You don’t think too much of men. I guess, after my brother and your...maybe we don’t want to talk about that.”

  He had been going to say “your sister.” She had to call him on it. “You mean to tell me that you blame my sister? For your brother molesting her?”

  “I think we could have a real fight over this. You sure you want to talk about it?”

  “You’re the one that brought it up.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

  “Because you can’t defend him. She was a child.”

  “She was sixteen. And my brother didn’t do anything.”

  “Her shirt was off. She said he was forcing her.”

  “She lied.”

  “If your brother denied it, he lied.”

  “And that right there was the gist of the entire argument that the prosecution had. It shouldn’t have been enough to send my brother to prison. But it was. Which was wrong. Because any time it’s his word against her word, you can’t prove anything.”

  “Her shirt was off.”

  “He didn’t take it off. She did.”

  “That’s not what she said.”

  “But that’s what he said. And, there, you’ve got it again. He said/she said and no evidence. There shouldn’t have been a conviction.”

  She’d grown up in a home with a judge as her dad. She knew that a person should be innocent until proven guilty. There should be evidence. Had to be. It was what she’d been brought up to believe. Except in the case of a woman being molested. Then you had to believe the woman. Although, her sister Mariam was currently an actress on Broadway. She’d always been a good liar.

  What if she’d lied?

  That was the first time Justice had ever truly questioned her sister’s integrity in this instance. Sure, Mariam lied at home all the time when she was younger and even into her teenage years. Sneaking out at night and denying that she’d been out.

  She always got away with everything. And she could be so convincing. Justice had gotten in trouble a few times when Mariam had blamed something she had done on Justice.

  Liberty had pointed all that out to Justice, but Justice absolutely, blindly, refused to be disloyal to her sister. She would defend her family to the death and considered Liberty almost a traitor for not. But Liberty’s quiet assurance combined with Thad’s confident expression combined to form a major chink in her solid defense of her sister.

  Except even Mariam wouldn’t lie about this. She wouldn’t send an innocent man to prison.

  But what if she had?

  Thad shifted and surprised her when he opened his mouth like he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking.

  “I don’t know about your sister, but Blade never lied. Not even when we were kids. He was honest to a fault. I know for a fact my brother told the truth.” He adjusted his position and turned to her, straightening and stretching his arms. “I really don’t want to fight about it though, because there’s no way either of us can win. I can’t prove my position. And you can’t prove yours. I think the only thing that’s really without question is that he shouldn’t have been sent to prison when there was no evidence against him.”

  What he said now made sense. But at the time, there’d been such a fervor over it. The judge’s daughter being accosted behind the grocery store. Everyone wanted the criminal off the streets. And her dad had pushed for conviction, even though he had recused himself from the case because of his personal involvement. Behind the scenes, he’d definitely been involved.

  And their family had rallied behind Mariam. All except for Libby. Libby was the quiet sister. She didn’t fight or argue. But she wouldn’t insist, not to anyone, that Mariam was innocent.

  “So you don’t want to fight about it,” she said. “Yet you are using that to say that you didn’t have any use for women.”

  “I didn’t exactly say I didn’t have any use for women. Kissing is fun. And I’d only want to do that with a woman. But I guess, yeah, it’s hard for me to trust them, because in my experience, they don’t always spend a lot of time caring about how their actions affect the people around them. They seem to spend more time going after what they want.” His big hand reached over and scratched the dog’s ears. “Maybe it’s the dark. Maybe just how we met here. Maybe it’s the dog. I don’t know. But even though I can tell that you don’t have a very high opinion of men, I also had the feeling, from the very beginning, that you were different.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” Their hands brushed, and she had to fight to keep from yanking hers away. Not because she didn’t like his touch. But because she wasn’t expecting it, and it felt...electric.

  Which was weird.

  It almost took her mind off what she’d been thinking. Which was that she had had the same thought about him. She didn’t have a lot of use for men, but she’d been thinking earlier that he wasn’t like other men. And she felt like she could let her guard down.

  Even though they didn’t agree.

  He hadn’t attacked her, called her stupid, insisted he was right. He simply acknowledged the fact that they held different positions and each believed they were on the correct side of the issue.

  She supposed she should return the compliment, even though her mind was still boiling with thoughts of her sister and the idea that Mariam might have lied.

  Of course, she thought about it back when it happened, but she’d been so busy defending Mariam, so sure that Mariam wouldn’t do such a thing, that she hadn’t even allowed that thought to take hold in her brain. But to hear this man sitting beside her, confident and one hundred percent sure that his brother would never lie, and knowing what kind of person Mariam was, knowing that Liberty had believed it all along...it made her doubt.

  She didn’t like that.

  She didn’t like questioning things she knew for sure. Like the woman should always be believed. And men couldn’t be trusted.

  It wasn’t that he was telling her anything new. It was just that by knowing him, she could kinda see that there might be a different way. One she’d known about all along but had not even considered. It wasn’t like he was pushing her toward it; it was just like he gently showed her, reminded her, that it was there. And after looking at him, and seeing what kind of person he was, she realized he might be right.

  Still, she wasn’t giving up any long-held beliefs. Not tonight.

  “I will concede that you’re different from other men, too. I’ll admit I was actually thinking that thought earlier this evening. Not because of anything you’ve done necessarily, but because of the way I feel when I’m around you.”

  There. She’d said enough.

  She lifted her eyes to the sky, where the stars were out in abundance now. So big and bright, and so unfamiliar. When was the last time she just sat and looked at the sky?

  He leaned back. When she looked over, she was surprised to see that he was lying down with his hands behind his head.

  “There’s the Big Dipper. I remember Gram showing that to me when my brothers and I were little. When she first told me about it, I thought there was an actual dipper floating around in the sky. We had an ice cream scooper, with a green handle, and that’s what I was looking for when she pointed at the stars saying there’s the Big Dipper.”

  She laughed. “That’s cute. I can’t really look up. I g
et a crick in my neck.”

  “Lie down, I’ll put my arm behind your head.”

  She looked between them. There was still a good foot of distance between their bodies. She didn’t see any harm in lying down. So she did, careful to not disturb the pup any more than she had to and adjusting his furry body so he lay on top of her stomach with his head on her chest, his nose touching her chin.

  Without even thinking about it, she trusted Thad to put his arm under her head as she went down, and he didn’t disappoint her. It ended up being his forearm, which wasn’t nearly as soft as a pillow. It was better than the rock. Slightly.

  “I don’t know anything about the stars.” That was her way of saying she had no idea where the Big Dipper was.

  “I don’t know much either, other than the Big Dipper. I can find the moon, too.”

  “Goodness. I sure hope that’s not what you use to impress girls.”

  “Some girls aren’t as hard to impress as you, apparently.”

  She could admit that she was intimidating at times, but she would never have said she was hard to impress.

  “So what do you do to impress the guys? Now that you know I point out the moon and the Big Dipper?” He shifted beside her, seeming to settle in a little more deeply. “I’m waiting to be impressed. Since you didn’t think too much of my talents.”

  “I recite the Gettysburg Address. In Spanish. Backwards while standing on my head. That gets them every time.”

  He didn’t say anything for a while. Then, he murmured, “Have to admit, I’m kinda speechless.”

  “See? You’re impressed.”

  He laughed. The sound was low and came from deep in his chest, vibrating under her head. He was still chuckling when he said, “I think you actually have to do it to be impressive.”

  “Are you doubting me?” she asked in mock outrage.

  “No. Not doubting you at all. What I doubt is that you’re actually impressing anyone with that. I think you might be scaring them away. Did anyone ever stay around until you’re finished?”

  She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Come to think of it, I guess not. And here I thought I was just intimidating them.”

  “You probably are intimidating them. Not with the Gettysburg Address. But with your success.”

  “So you know what I do?” she asked, all trace of humor gone from her voice.

  “I suppose I could find out, and I wouldn’t have to ask you.”

  She couldn’t deny she felt relief. She didn’t know why she didn’t want him to know. Maybe because it really was intimidating. She’d worked hard to get where she was, and she wasn’t ashamed of that.

  But here, tonight, she simply wanted to be her. Not the big bank executive that she was during the day. She was an ordinary woman, sitting under the stars and having a fun conversation with a nice guy. A nice, attractive guy.

  “I don’t really want to know,” he finally said. “I’m kind of content just doing what we are.”

  “Me too.”

  Chapter 8

  Thad strode into church Sunday morning, his Bible under one arm, his gun shoved in the back of his waistband under his dress shirt. He’d only been going to this church for a little over two months. But they pegged him right away and asked him to be on the security committee. Guys who took turns sitting in the vestibule making sure that everyone who came through the doors was there to worship the Lord.

  A necessary job and Thad had been happy to help. He never guessed when he started going there would be a job for him. He liked feeling needed.

  It was a smaller church than the one he’d been going to, but he liked it just fine. It was nice to see familiar faces. At the last church, it was so big, with so many people in attendance, every week it looked like a whole new batch of people there.

  He arrived early, intentionally, because he was on duty this week.

  Thad loved the smell as he went in the door—cool stillness, furniture polish, maybe just a little hint of mustiness. It was a soothing smell, and one that seemed to open his lungs and encourage them to want to take deep, cleansing breaths.

  The head of the security committee, Sam Reynolds, met him at the door.

  “Good morning, Thad,” Sam said, holding out his hand.

  Thad returned the greeting and shook Sam’s hand.

  “You comfortable back here? Everything going okay?” Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest and bracing his legs, like he was settling down for a long conversation.

  “Going good. Got a cushioned chair when I sit back here. Versus the hard pews inside. Can’t complain.”

  Sam guffawed. “You wouldn’t believe it, but I had David Bowen out here, oh, I don’t know, about six months ago, and the preacher paused for a minute in the middle of his sermon, and all everybody could hear was big snores coming from right here.”

  Thad laughed. “Pretty embarrassing. Bet he won’t do that again.”

  “Guess it’s not so embarrassing when you’re sound sleep. I’m not sure whether or not he’ll do it again, because his wife was pretty upset, but he definitely wasn’t embarrassed.”

  They shared a laugh over it. “Well, I’m not too tempted to fall asleep. Not yet.”

  Sam scratched his head. “I don’t know if you’re busy this afternoon, but the children have a pizza party scheduled, along with some games and activities. I had someone scheduled to work. But they ducked out on me at the last minute. Actually, just five minutes ago. I’m looking for someone to take their place. You wouldn’t happen to have the afternoon free, would you?”

  “I’m not doing anything I can’t cancel.” Thad had been kind of thinking he might take a long walk along the river. With his new puppy. But that didn’t seem like it should trump helping out here. “Any reason I can’t bring my dog and sit outside on the steps?”

  “I don’t see why not. Never had anybody do that before, but that should work out just fine.” Sam’s lips twisted, and he lifted his bushy white brows. “The kids might want to play with it.”

  “That’s fine. It’ll be good for my dog to be around children.” No one had claimed it from the posters he’d put up and the sign he’d hung in the bank and at the vet’s, so he wasn’t sure about the shot situation.

  “Does it bite?” Sam’s brows furrowed.

  “Hasn’t bitten me yet. I’ll watch it.” He had met Justice twice more since the first night they lay on the rock together. She still hadn’t decided on a name for the dog. He’d given her twenty-four hours, but it was partly his fault. When he was with her, he never remembered to ask her before they parted if she’d decided. He was too busy talking about other things. And thinking about kissing her.

  Guess he wasn’t going for a walk along the river after all today. They hadn’t set anything up, but Thad had been kind of hoping she’d be there. He was willing to take a walk later and find out. After dark though, so they didn’t risk people seeing them. It was unspoken between them—no one could know.

  Still, a man could hope.

  “What time should I be here this afternoon?”

  “The party goes from two to four. You won’t have to do anything with the children. The junior church workers, the ones who are downstairs every Sunday with them, will be doing the party. All you have to do is be the protection. Just like Sunday service.”

  “Sounds easy. I’ll be here.”

  He and Sam talked for a bit more until the worshipers began to stream in, then Thad moved over to the side and stood with his hands crossed over his chest. He wasn’t exactly trying to look intimidating, although he figured it probably helped. If anyone was scoping out the church because they thought it would be a good place to stage a massacre, he wanted them to understand that it wasn’t going to be as simple as walking in and killing people. Not here.

  Maybe they’d reconsider. He didn’t exactly want them to go somewhere else. But he took the job of protecting the people inside seriously.

  He hadn’t even considered in
the two or so months that he’d been there that the children might be doing something else other than going into the sanctuary. He almost cracked a smile, thinking that they might have asked him to help with that. He would probably have gotten fired after the first Sunday. For having too much fun with them.

  The stream of people slowed and the service began. From where Thad sat in the back, he could hear the sermon just fine. It might have been better if he couldn’t. The pastor was talking about how God made man to need a woman. And how according to the Bible, God had made a woman to be a helper fit for a man.

  Thad listened with interest as the pastor used the Bible to back up everything he said. He liked that. It wasn’t just stuff coming out of the pastor’s head. But he kinda thought if Justice were there, she wouldn’t be very happy listening to that sermon. He wasn’t exactly happy about it either.

  He didn’t like the idea that he needed anyone. Especially a woman; he hadn’t found them very dependable. Or loyal. Or honest. He could go on.

  But just like he wouldn’t expect a car that he had built to open up its hood and start talking back to him, maybe telling him it wanted to have applesauce in the tank instead of gasoline, he supposed God didn’t want Thad explaining to the good Lord that he really didn’t need a woman, thank you very much anyway.

  He was still thinking about it, considering, when the sermon was over.

  He didn’t exactly hurry home, but he did leave as soon as the service was over. If he was coming back, he wanted to be sure that he had time to grab a bite to eat, feed and water his dog, and take him for a little walk to get some of his energy burned off before he brought him in.

  If the dog had any contact with the kids at all, Thad figured he’d be pretty excited about it.

  It’d be good for the pup to be around some people. And he had an appointment next week to get the shots. He’d be more comfortable after that was done, but he didn’t really have a choice about today. He wasn’t even supposed to have a dog in his house, but although Justice loved to pet the dog when they met, she was adamant about not being able to take him home.