by Zoey Marcel
Then she would know how much he cared. They could have been together if she hadn’t rejected him for being a murderer. How shallow was she that she couldn’t accept that?
No one walked away from him. He said when it was over, not her. If she had allowed him to end the relationship when he was ready, she would have been permitted to live and go on with her life and he with his. No hard feelings.
Ah, but she hadn’t. She’d tried to flee from him, endeavored to end things. That wasn’t how it was done.
Now he had to kill her. He would make sure she knew it was all her fault, but he would also be sure to tell her how much he liked her while he was killing her. He figured he owed her that much.
Chapter Eight
“Trudy, thank the Almighty.”
The older woman, Greta, rubbernecked back and forth in the most conspicuous scouting effort Brighton had ever seen as she cowed his family’s cook, Trudy, behind a shelf in the drugstore. Both aged women stood there, leaning in for what he imagined was juicy gossip.
“What have you heard?” Trudy asked, sounding eager.
“Well, of course, you didn’t hear this from me,” Greta began.
“Oh, of course not.”
“But I have it on good authority…”
Brighton smirked, shaking his head as he skimmed through the text messages on his cell phone.
Siegfried, the butler, shopped alongside him. Or rather he did the work while Brighton ordered him what to buy. He loved bossing him around. The man was charming and attractive with blond hair that was swept back and light-sapphire-blue eyes. He was in his early forties and had a classy British accent.
“It’s happening, Siegfried. I’m gonna get married.”
“So you say.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
The butler smiled. “Not at all.”
“Neh, I know you. You’re thinking something snotty, but you’re nice enough not to say anything.”
“I’m being paid not to.”
Brighton laughed. “Well, just off the record, what do you think of Danielle?”
“She seems like a nice young woman, but if you’ll forgive my honesty, you’re all wrong for each other.”
He frowned. “What do you mean? Are you saying I deserve better than her?”
“Not you, sir. She does.”
Brighton smirked. “Honest jackass.”
Siegfried smiled a little while scanning the shelves. “I assumed you wanted the truth.”
“Mistake of the century, and I do so deserve her. What do you know anyway? You’re probably still a virgin.”
The man appeared deeply amused by this. “I assure you, Brighton, I’m not.”
“I’d make a damned good husband.”
“Hmm.”
Brighton rolled his eyes. “Spit it out.”
“It’s just you have a habit of changing partners rather quickly.”
“Is that your polite way of saying I’m a slut?”
A faint smile slipped through before Siegfried licked his lips and hid it. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you were thinking it. Danielle is the only woman I have eyes for.”
“The only woman, yes,” he muttered.
“Are you saying I want a man? Is that what you’re saying? ’Cause it kind of sounds like you’re saying I think Chuck is looking pretty tight today,” Brighton said loudly so an approaching Chuck heard.
The gardener grinned. “You’re gonna seduce me someday, aren’t you?”
“You know it, right in that awesome yard you landscaped,” Brighton teased. “You’re gonna love it.”
“How could I help myself?” Chuck quipped.
When he wasn’t ordering the servants around, Brighton enjoyed flirting with them. Never around his dad, though. Alan McAlister was all prim and proper, but Brighton was chill.
“You’re too small to top anyone,” Siegfried told him.
Brighton pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “This asshole keeps insulting me.”
“Maybe he’s jealous because you’re gonna fuck me good,” Chuck joked.
Siegfried looked annoyed. “I have no desire to be dominated by a man.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Brighton lied.
Chuck grinned. “Liar, you’re always flirting with us.”
“Not always.”
“Why don’t you just go to the club and hook up with a guy?”
“I don’t know.” Brighton shrugged, leaning up against the shelf. “Nobody tells me what to do, but topping a guy wouldn’t be as fun as bottoming for him. I guess I’m screwed.”
“You will be.” Chuck winked at him.
Brighton smirked. “Dirty bastard. What are you even doing here?”
“Buying vitamins.” Chuck held up the bottles.
“Well, aren’t you special?” Brighton looked over at the two older women who were still chattering. “How much gossip does this town have?”
Siegfried glanced over his shoulder at them. “You give them plenty to discuss, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, I do. So, guys, I need your help. I doubt I’m gonna fall in love with a guy, but can you believe I’ve never been with one?”
“I can’t,” Siegfried said.
“Because I’m such a stud, right?”
Chuck snorted. “Probably because you don’t shut up about it, no disrespect intended, of course.”
Brighton waved him off. “Nah, you’re fine. I’m in a good mood today.”
“Well, I’ve gotta hit the road. Later.” Chuck shook his head, smiling when Brighton slapped him on the ass.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t love it.”
“It was the highlight of my day.” Chuck walked away.
Siegfried moved down the aisle. “You shouldn’t have any trouble finding a partner if you do that to every man you encounter.”
Brighton grinned. “I don’t do it to every man. Do you think Chuck’s ever been with a man?”
“I try not to think about his love life.”
“Not into voyeurism, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“He drinks a lot. I bet he fucks all kinds of people and doesn’t even know it.”
Siegfried cast him a sideways glance, lips quirking with humor. “You’ve spent too much time thinking about this, haven’t you?”
“Not that much.” Brighton shook his head at the two older ladies. “Look at them over there, talking about other people behind their backs. Some people, huh?”
Siegfried seemed amused by this. “Don’t ever change.”
“No worries there. Seriously, though, Chuck’s a horndog. He’s always talking about sex like he’s got some kind of problem.” Brighton stuck his hands in his pockets and watched the butler in silence for a moment. “Have you ever been with a man?”
Siegfried faced him, head tilting slightly and inquisitive eyes twinkling. “Why is that?”
“I was just curious. You got a problem with questions, buddy?”
“It was a rather personal one.”
“So? Don’t you guys talk about sex over there? ’Cause here we talk about it all the time. I mean like constantly.” Brighton pointed in the direction the gardener had gone. “I mean, take Chuck for example. The guy won’t shut up about it. He’s always asking people about their sex lives like he’s some kind of nosy pervert. I mean really.”
Siegfried’s lips curved, tone softening. “I’ve been with both sexes.”
Brighton gasped. “And you never told me?”
“That would hardly have been professional of me.” Siegfried added a few items to the basket.
“Um, I need to hear about all the man love that goes on in these parts. How many were there?”
He made a tsking sound and shook his head.
“Don’t you tsk at me, you suited devil. I need numbers and names if you banged any local dudes.”
“No names.”
“Oh, come on. At least tell me about your favorite
one.”
“A real pain in the ass, but somehow irresistible and damned good in bed.”
Brighton lowered his eyes, feeling warm and vulnerable, when Siegfried stepped closer to him and reached by his head for a bottle off the shelf. “Why was he your favorite?”
Siegfried didn’t answer, but he had a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Danielle who?” Trudy asked.
Brighton’s head jerked toward the women, and Siegfried stepped aside. “Shut up a minute so I can hear those ladies. I think I just heard one of them say Danielle’s name.”
“Danielle Hartwell was fighting with the Reverend Brodie’s youngest son the other day,” Greta informed the other woman in a voice louder than a whisper.
“Heath?” Trudy asked.
Greta gave an exaggerated nod. “But that’s not the best part. He was furious because someone had…Oh, I really shouldn’t tell you this.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, if you insist.” Trudy leaned in so Greta could whisper into her ear.
Damn it, no! I want to hear this. It’s my right. Danielle is my woman.
Trudy gasped. “Cunnilingus!”
“Shh!”
“In an alley!"
“Shh!”
“In Stone River!”
“For heaven’s sake, Trudy.” Greta shook her head in annoyance. “Yes, so they say. The young man she was with hasn’t been identified, but it wasn’t Heath, hence how upset he was with her over it. They also fought over beliefs. Danielle is antireligious.”
“Well, so am I,” Trudy sniffed.
Greta shook her head and patted her arm. “I know. I’m still praying for you.”
“That’s kind of you. I cast a protective spell on you a while back.”
“That was very good of you, dear, but for all we know, it was the Holy Spirit.”
“Well, either he answered a witch’s prayer or the moon spirit protected you like I asked.”
Greta frowned. “Oh. Well, I can’t win, can I?”
“No. You can’t.”
Both women laughed before becoming instantly serious.
“You don’t suppose the preacher’s son and that policeman’s sister…” Trudy didn’t finish.
“Yes, yes, I do. Why else would Heath be so furious? I daresay it’s expected of her, but for a preacher’s son, it’s quite scandalous.”
“What do you mean it’s expected of Danielle? She was always the good girl.”
Greta put her hands on her hips. “Not since she surrendered her chastity to that suave devil man that’s going to hell.”
“Emmett O’Neil,” Trudy reminded her.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“I don’t blame her. Look at him. If I was a younger woman—”
“For shame, Trudy.”
“Well, wouldn’t you if you were still young?”
Greta held her head up high. “Even as a youth, I would maintain my integrity.”
“If you weren’t a God-fearing woman?”
“I’d be all over him like moss on a tree.”
Trudy let out a soft laugh. “Naturally. What woman could resist him? Surely you can’t blame Danielle for wanting him.”
“For wanting him, no, but she threw herself at him years ago. No self-respect.”
“Can’t a person make one mistake?”
Greta snorted. “My good friend, it sounds as though the girl has made many.”
Brighton was about to march over there, but Siegfried grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Let it go, sir,” the Englishman advised.
“They’re talking about my woman.” Brighton gestured toward them with an upturned palm.
“People will talk. Best to ignore them.”
“I’m thinking I need to—”
“Behave, Brighton,” Siegfried scolded softly near his ear.
Brighton shivered, somewhat surprised by the firm grip on his arm. Their eyes locked and Siegfried let go of him. Maybe he was a little too chummy with the servants. Ah well, just an excuse to get bossy again. Keep them guessing.
“Poor Heath got his heart broken, even if he did succumb to sin with the wicked woman,” Greta said.
“Oh horseshit,” Trudy snapped. “Everyone knows a preacher’s spawn are little hellions. I bet Heath seduced the poor girl, and now Dominic will have to kill him and make it look like an accident.”
Greta gasped. “No. That’s a bit extreme and obvious, don’t you think? How on earth would he make it look like an accident?”
“He would have to make it appear as though Heath was resisting arrest. Then Dominic could shoot him.”
“Mercy. Do you suppose Heath will be forgiven at the last minute for behaving like a promiscuous Sampson, or will he burn in hell for caving to the lusts of the flesh?”
Trudy scoffed. “There’s no hell.”
“Yes, there is, Trudy. I told you there was.”
“Well, I don’t believe it.”
“Which is exactly why you’re going there.”
“Well, see if I gossip with you again.”
Greta made a tsking sound. “It’s not gossip if you don’t repeat it. Are we still on for brunch tomorrow?”
Trudy was beaming. “Of course, I’ll see you then.”
Greta scurried off. “Remember, zip.”
She made a “zip the lips” motion with her fingers over her mouth.
Trudy repeated the gesture and then waved to Greta as she left. Turning to Brighton, Trudy asked, “Did you know—”
“Yeah, I heard,” Brighton muttered.
Did Danielle have feelings for Heath Brodie? Did the cowboy care about her in return? Had they, in fact, had sex or fooled around in some way?
He had to know. It was fine if she had, since the actions had without a doubt occurred before he and David had proposed to her. But what if Danielle loved Heath, too?
What if she left them for him?
Was that why she’d been so reluctant to agree to marry them even though she’d sworn over and over again that she loved them?
Brighton knew she did, but he had to know how deep her feelings ran for Heath and whether or not David was fine with inviting another man in to share her permanently if it actually came down to that.
Brighton would go along with it if that’s what made Danielle happy. He loved her so damned much he would do anything to keep her.
* * * *
Heath answered his ringing cell phone. “Hello?”
“Greetings, my good man.”
What the hell?
“Who is this?”
“Who indeed,” the young man on the other end replied. “Would you mind taking a moment to participate in a survey?”
“Not interested.”
“Oh, come on!”
Well, that was quite the professional response. Heath smirked. “Fine, go ahead.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“Of course it is. Favorite food?”
“I don’t know. Steak. Pizza.”
“That’s nice. Would you consider yourself a kinky man?”
What the fuck?
“Excuse me?”
“Bear with me. This is a survey, damn it.”
Heath almost laughed. “Fine, sure.”
“Excellent. Ever had a threesome or a foursome?”
“No.”
“Ever wanted one?”
“Is there a point to this?”
“We’re doing studies on human sexuality. It was either that or orangutans, but those guys prefer privacy.”
Yeah, ’cause I don’t.
“Anyway,” the weirdo on the other end continued, “if you were to engage in a foursome, are you the kind of guy who would focus on the woman, or do you find yourself craving cock, too? Nobody’s judging or coming onto you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I need to know, man.”
“I think you need to fuck yourself.”
“Oh, I
do, but this is a survey, okay?”
Heath rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’ve established that this is a survey. Get to the point already.”
“Okay then. Are you into BDSM?”
“Is that really a question on there?”
“You wouldn’t believe the questions on here.”
Great.
Heath paced while talking. “Look, this conversation has been the thrill of a lifetime, but I’ve got to go, so—”
“Are you a Dom, as in a dominant man who dominates submissive people in a BDSM context?”
He wanted to pound his head against the wall, or better still, this idiot’s. “I know what a Dom is.”
“And are you a Dom?”
“Yeah, I’m a Dom. Are we done now?”
Anything to shut the guy up.
“Excellent. How would you like to share a woman with me and my brother? We’re good-looking guys. I’m the sexiest, of course.”
Heath wrinkled his nose. “You’re disgusting.”
“I’m not hitting on you, but if you happen to grope me during the encounter, I sure won’t complain.”
“What the fuck? Who is this?”
“What do you know about the McAlisters?”
Heath groaned. “Is that who this is? You’re the youngest brat, aren’t you?”
“That’s an interesting theory. Let’s talk about Brighton. He’s a stud, right?”
It had to be him. Stupid fucking prankster. Hadn’t he grown up yet?
Heath decided to mess with him. “I don’t know. He’s kind of scrawny looking, and he has a weird face. Honestly, he’s not my type.”
“What do you mean he’s not your type?” the guy shrieked on the other end. “He’s hot stuff.”
“Give it up, Brighton. I know it’s you. I’m not interested in having sex with you.”
“You would be if I was Heller Enos.”
His pulse skyrocketed.
“What?” Heath growled.
“I think you want to make his babies…if men could do that. Did he come on to you? Did you like it?”
He got dizzy. “How do you know about that?”
“Whoa.” Brighton sounded blown away. “I was just bluffing. I didn’t know you guys made out.”
