Rule Breaker

by Joanne Rock

  “The school must have been worried when you didn’t return.” She felt the urge to comfort him, since she knew the ending of this story had to be painful. Clearly he hadn’t wanted to relive that time in his life if he’d kept the events a secret for so long.

  “Probably. But we were sixteen-year-old kids with more testosterone than brains.” His fingers rested on the table close to hers.

  She couldn’t stop herself from laying her palm across the back of his hand. Squeezing lightly.

  “By the time the sun was setting,” he continued, “we were wound up, pushing each other into risky stunts, telling ourselves we were having the time of our lives. But it rained that night, and I figured everybody would settle down because of that.”

  “That’s not what happened?”

  “We slept that night.” His mouth twisted in an expression she couldn’t read. “But the next morning, some of the guys decided to cliff jump into the local river even though the water level was way too high. We lost the best and brightest among us when our classmate, Zachary Eldridge, jumped into the Arroyo Seco River and never surfaced.”

  April’s heartbeat faltered as she imagined the impact of losing a friend at that age. And in such a traumatic way. She took his hand again and held it. “I’m so sorry.”

  “We all were.” Weston huffed out a long breath, his gaze dropping to their interwoven fingers for a moment before lifting to her face. “We searched for him for hours. Even the search was dangerous.” He blinked then and straightened in his seat. “But I only share this story to help you understand Alonzo’s role in the aftermath. He was with the search party that found us, and he saw firsthand the kind of condition we were in. He stood by us all through the interrogations by school security and the local police, since the academy didn’t want the news to go public.”

  “Seriously?” How could the school suppress news like that? But they must have, considering she didn’t remember seeing any stories about a student death in her research.

  “One of the guys’ fathers was a political bigwig who did favors for Dowdon. I think they feared repercussions from an important donor more than anything.” Still holding her hand, Weston waved to the server with the other.

  A waitress quickly emerged from the kitchen with two steaming plates.

  April could feel a new anger stirring in her over Weston’s story. How could money be more important than a student’s life? Than all of their lives, given the profound impact the death must have had on each of the classmates? The boys had deserved professional counseling. They should have had the comfort of their families, not a cover-up to maintain.

  “So you feel like Alonzo’s actions from that time are indicative of his good character.” She tried to see it from Weston’s perspective and failed. Anyone involved with that school should have insisted the truth come out.

  Although, perhaps there were more factors at work than the father with powerful connections. Public interest in the boy’s death might have made the aftermath of the accident even more traumatic for Zach’s friends. It was tough enough to grieve something like that privately. How much more difficult would it have been to process in the public eye?

  After giving Weston’s hand one last squeeze, she withdrew her touch as the waitress laid plates in front of them. The main course was thin-sliced elk medallions drizzled with a blackberry-red wine sauce and garnished with parsley sprigs.

  “Alonzo wasn’t just an advocate in those weeks after the incident,” Weston explained once they were alone again. “He became a trusted friend. A father figure to some of the guys. Me too, I guess, since I never had a good relationship with my dad.”

  She recalled his strained bond with his brother as well, and found herself wanting to ask more about that. But she wasn’t here to follow up on her personal attraction to Weston, no matter how tempting that might be. She had a job to do. And as soon as that was done, she needed to be back home overseeing her mother’s health.

  With an effort, she forced herself to line up the facts. Alonzo Salazar was allegedly paying for a thirteen-year-old boy’s education. Weston didn’t think Alonzo had been having an affair with a much younger woman at the time. But perhaps he would support the child of someone he felt close to. If not one of the owners of Mesa Falls Ranch, then who?

  “What if the boy Alonzo was supporting turns out to be Zachary’s son?”

  “No,” Weston told her flatly, refilling her wineglass and his own water glass. “Not possible.”

  “But if Alonzo was close to all six of you, he must have felt a connection to Zach’s death. Maybe he wanted to help a son left behind—”

  Weston was already shaking his head. “Zach was gay. He’d come out long before that trip. He was comfortable with it—” He stopped himself and looked thoughtful before continuing. “At least, he appeared to be at ease with himself. As comfortable as any guy is with his sexuality at that age.”

  April didn’t know what to think. She’d learned so much today only to have a whole new batch of unanswered questions. And in the meantime, she’d backed Weston into a corner to share a difficult experience from his past. Regret weighed on her even as she sampled the mouthwatering meat. She hadn’t meant to pry into something that had to have been so painful.

  “Then maybe the father wasn’t a student at Dowdon. Nicole Smith’s sister could have crossed paths with him some other way.” The school was remote, but Alonzo must have made trips into a local town. He probably had friendships beyond the school. She would know more once she had a chance to speak to Nicole at length. “But we still have to assume the father was someone Alonzo might have felt protective of.”

  “Or else he didn’t know the father at all. He simply knew the mother and felt protective of her for whatever reason.” Weston stared out over the ice pond outside the barn, his gaze resting on the last couple still skating in the cold. The pair circled each other, laughing.

  And then they were kissing.

  Slow and lingering.

  The moment was an intimate one, and the young man and woman probably didn’t even realize anyone else could see them. April averted her eyes, only to realize Weston had switched his focus to her.

  Her cheeks heated with sudden awareness. A confusing mix of emotions cascaded through her. Desire for him threaded through it all. Weston had asked her for a kiss the night before—to tease and distract her, she thought. But at the moment, it felt like a missed opportunity.

  She would have enjoyed kissing him.

  “I’ll research more tomorrow.” She forced the words past a dry throat, then took a sip of her water to try to cool off. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. I know it can’t be easy to relive something like that, but I appreciate the better perspective it gives me on Alonzo.”

  She needed to reroute her thoughts before she sent Weston any more mixed signals. Gladly, she concentrated on her meal instead of him.

  He was silent for a moment as they ate. But then he surprised her by brushing a touch along her shoulder, his palm a warm weight through the thin crepe sleeve of her dress.

  “I can’t help but wonder if you’ll still share evenings like this with me,” he said, “if I don’t have any more information for your case.”

  Her pulse sped at his touch. Memories of waking up pressed against him returned with a vengeance.

  “I probably shouldn’t,” she admitted. She was already straddling the line between a personal and professional relationship.

  Gray areas in her life made her uncomfortable. And whatever was happening with Weston fell into that blurry place.

  “No?” His eyes seemed greener in the firelight as he brushed a curl away from her face and studied her across the small table. “Why not?”

  His effect on her was potent. And gaining strength the more time she spent with him.

  “It isn’t a good practice to get—” she searc
hed for the right words, struggling to ignore the mesmerizing feel of his fingers smoothing the wayward strand “—to get close to someone who figures prominently in a case I’m working.”

  “I’m well outside the focus of your investigation.” He made a relationship between them sound logical when she knew it would be self-indulgent. Impulsive, even.

  Still, heat curled in her belly, a teasing warmth. He canted closer, almost near enough to kiss. When did she ever indulge herself?

  “It’s important that I remain impartial.” Had she leaned toward him too? Her words were the softest whisper between them.

  “To your work, maybe.” His touch skimmed her cheek, tipping her chin up. “But not to me.”

  For a long, heated moment, she breathed in the tantalizing possibility of pursuing the attraction.

  “You’re suggesting we keep spending time together.” She needed to be very clear about this. No gray areas. What if he was only using their chemistry to keep track of her investigation?

  Anxiety spiked along with all that delicious awareness.

  “At least let me accompany you to meet my aunt Fallon.” His hand lingered along her jaw, making her skin tingle as she contemplated what he was asking. “You wasted a trip to Kalispell at Christmastime when she wasn’t home. I can call ahead for us and introduce you.”

  The woman had been a confidante of Alonzo’s in the years before his death. What else might April glean from that interview? She couldn’t deny the appeal of more time spent with Weston, even if she risked a certain amount of objectivity.

  “You’d make the trip with me?” The drive north had been tense last time, a snowstorm making the ride even longer.

  “Yes. I have a home close to her place for when I go see her. We can speak to her, then I’ll make you dinner at my place.” The potential for more than dinner hung heavy in the air, all the more compelling for how much she wanted to kiss him right now. “Spending the night would, of course, be entirely your call.”

  “And if I prefer to have my own bedroom?” She realized she was actually considering it. Not just the interview with Fallon Reed, but also a night spent with Weston Rivera.

  She felt breathless at the thought.

  “Then I would be sure the guest room had fresh sheets. You set the pace, April. But I refuse to pretend that I don’t feel something for you.” The certainty in his eyes and in his words appealed to her even more than the physical draw of his nearness.

  And that spoke volumes. Maybe she could take a chance this once, knowing she’d be leaving Montana soon anyway. She could take this kiss. This chance to feel something more than the endless sense of duty that came with her day-to-day life.

  She splayed a palm on his jacket lapel, and leaned closer, ready to claim what she wanted.

  “That’s a good thing, because I’m not a woman who plays games.”

  Six

  April’s kiss disarmed him.

  Weston hadn’t expected it here, now, during their dinner. But when her lips brushed his, he was only too happy to drink in her sweetness, which held a whole lot more appeal than any five-star meal. Her lips moved in a seductive slide over his, making him forget everything but her. The soft press of her mouth, the taste of red wine and delectable woman, ignited the desire that had been on slow simmer ever since he’d awoken in the tent with his hand cradling her breast. The scorching memory of her body fitted tightly to his took the kiss from zero to sixty in record-setting time.

  It was all he could do to ease back, even knowing a waitstaff hovered on the perimeter of the room, their table for two in full view.

  “April.” He breathed her in after he let her go, wanting more and needing to wait. “I hope that’s a yes to a trip to Kalispell.”

  Belatedly, he remembered her warning—I’m not a woman who plays games—and wondered how he could, in good faith, let things go any farther between them if he didn’t come clean about all he knew in regard to the past. How could he withhold the truth about his own role in Zach’s death?

  He’d failed to save his friend. The knowledge chilled him as he pulled away.

  “That’s a yes.” She looked as rattled by the kiss as he felt, her blue gaze darting from his as she took a long drink from her water glass. “I appreciate the ride to Kalispell and the introduction.”

  He noticed how carefully she reminded him of what she was agreeing to, delineating her expectations. Fine by him. There wasn’t a chance he’d let things escalate until he’d figured out how much more of the past he could share with her anyway. Not all of it was his story to tell.

  Tonight, he’d have to contact the other owners of Mesa Falls. Warn them that things were snowballing in regard to Alonzo Salazar and the past that tied them all together.

  He would have preferred to spend this evening savoring the victory of having gotten closer to April. Instead, the uneasy dance of conflict and desire eclipsed the rest of the meal, reminding him that his first obligation was to the friends who were now his business partners, no matter how much he might wish otherwise.

  * * *

  The kiss was never far from her mind that night.

  April twisted restlessly in the Egyptian cotton sheets of her luxury suite in the ranch’s main guest lodge, thinking about that devastating moment when Weston Rivera’s lips had grazed hers. Setting her on fire.

  Thrusting off the covers after failing to fall asleep, she padded across the floor of her room, moonlight shining through the window behind the sofa. She reached to close the curtains, but stopped when she caught a glimpse of the mountains glinting white. Crystalline snowflakes reflecting the white glow made the high peaks look like they’d been dipped in glitter. A magical sight for her even though she lived in Denver. She might be in close proximity to her own stretch of Rockies back home, but her life there seemed confined to her job in the city and her duties for her mother.

  Was it any wonder she’d seized on that ill-advised kiss with Weston over dinner? She wouldn’t be in Montana much longer. She could at least grab whatever pleasure she could before she returned to her narrow world of obligation. Her long-ago attempt at rebellion as a teen had sent her mother down the path to hoarding in the first place, widening the gulf between her parents that had driven April’s father away for good. She wouldn’t abandon her mom now, no matter how great the temptation to lose herself in Weston’s touch. At least she’d managed to reinstate the cleaning service after a lot of fast talking on the phone to the supervisor in charge. And an increase in their fee.

  For now, though, her job here wasn’t over yet. Which meant she had a narrow window of time to enjoy herself.

  Her phone vibrated with a notification, pulling her attention from the mountains and memories. Hurriedly closing the curtains, she returned to her bed to flip over the device where it was charging on the nightstand. She tucked her cold toes under the covers again as she read a message from Nicole Smith. April had texted her shortly before bed, asking her to share any physical evidence of her claims and requesting a time to speak again at length.

  Can’t meet tomorrow. My supervisor subbed me last minute as ranch support staff on a three-day cattle expo in LA. Will text when I return. If I can find any of my sister’s bank statements with past deposits from the trust for Matthew, I will forward them.

  Frustration balled in April’s gut. Three days? She briefly contemplated contacting her boss or the client to request travel fees to confront Nicole in Los Angeles. But until she had proof of support money being paid by Alonzo, that wasn’t fair to her client. April knew better than to chase phantom leads. No, her best bet was to accept Weston’s invitation to meet with his aunt—a woman who’d been close to Alonzo.

  A visit to Kalispell would be the right move for her case. The fact that she would be spending more time with Weston Rivera—possibly overnight in his mountain home—didn’t weigh into her decision at all.

>   Yet she couldn’t deny that the thought of it made her heart beat faster.

  * * *

  Seated beside April in his Land Rover the next day, Weston headed north on 35 along Flathead Lake toward Kalispell. He’d called his aunt the night before, and Fallon had encouraged him to come for a visit soon, since she planned an extended trip to Costa Rica at the end of the month.

  So when April had messaged him this morning, her schedule cleared for the rest of the week, he’d been only too glad to make the journey today. Weston had gotten in touch with his property manager to prepare the house for them in case they stayed in Kalispell overnight, but he suspected April would want to return to Mesa Falls once he shared more of the details about Zach’s death. She’d been incensed over dinner last night when she’d heard how the story had been kept out of the news. What would she think once she learned of the role he himself had played?

  Fourteen years hadn’t been enough time to forgive himself. He sure didn’t expect April to feel the same way about him with only hours to process what he was about to tell her. But he’d cleared the path to discuss the details, at least, after sending an email to the other ranch owners the night before. He’d given them all fair warning that interest in Alonzo was heating up and that Devon Salazar’s investigative firm wouldn’t quit until they had answers. He hadn’t shared anything about the mystery child connected to Alonzo, though. With no concrete evidence of the boy’s paternity yet, Weston wouldn’t stir the pot unnecessarily.

  The only response he’d received to his email had been from fellow owner Gage Striker, who’d told Weston to share whatever he deemed reasonable. That was it. A one-sentence reply that had given Weston the green light to topple the barriers they’d all kept around that summer for the whole of their adult lives. While Weston appreciated Gage’s confidence in his judgment about what to share, he also hated being the only one on-site in Montana if the media decided the old story was worth revisiting.