The Truth About Love

by Sheila Athens

  “You’re not really helping here,” Landon said to him.

  Gina ignored them. “How can I be the enemy if all I want is the truth? How can someone think the truth is wrong?”

  The breath in his chest quickened. “The truth has already been established. The truth”—he leaned in closer—“is what I saw running out of the back of that country store.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Eyewitnesses can be wrong sometimes. Actually, they’re wrong a lot of the time.”

  “Oh, yeah? And how do you know that?” Landon didn’t raise his voice, but knew his low, close tone was more menacing than any shout. “Because you’ve worked at Morgan’s Ladder for a whole three weeks now? I don’t think that makes you an expert.”

  The server arrived with a round of beer on her tray. Gina grabbed one, squeezed her eyes closed, and took a long sip. She slowly lowered the bottle. “I have to go.”

  Landon watched her hurry to the door. The guy at the next table craned his neck to follow the sight of her butt.

  “You’re a total fuckup,” Boomer said to Landon.

  Landon raked his hand down his face. His stubble rasped. Why did he feel the need to go after her? “I’ll deal with you later,” he said as he rose to follow her.

  “And you”—he pointed his forefinger in the face of the guy at the next table who’d leered at her ass—“you stay away from her.” The guy held both hands up in the air and scooted his chair as far away from Landon as he could.

  Landon turned and rushed toward the door as a voice rose from the table full of guys. “Hey, wasn’t that Landon Vista?”

  He ripped open the door to the bar and glanced around the parking lot. A group of drunken college-age women bumped into him as they passed, arm in arm. A Dodge Charger roared out of the entrance and onto the road.

  His chest clutched. Had he missed her? And why did he care so much? He turned to go back inside when Gina came into his view, across the parking lot. He broke into a sprint before he knew what he was doing.

  “Wasn’t that Landon Vista?” he heard the guy say as a couple walked toward their car. Jeez. These people really needed to get a life.

  Gina sniffed as he approached, trying to hide her emotions. She held her chin high.

  He reached out to touch her arm. “Kind of tough to be a badass if you can’t find your car.”

  She smiled a bit, though he could tell she didn’t want to. “I never said I was a badass.” She held up her key fob and watched as the lights of her SUV blinked a couple of rows over.

  “So what did I say in there that made you leave?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. Her hair glinted in the light of the streetlamp. Tears glistened in her eyes. She started walking.

  He followed alongside her. “Seriously. You always want me to talk about my private stuff. Now it’s your turn.”

  She took a deep breath and blew it out. He got the impression she was thinking about telling him.

  “Something about eyewitnesses . . .” he said, coaxing her.

  They arrived at her SUV and she leaned against it. “You said I didn’t know anything about it. That I’d only worked for Morgan’s Ladder for three weeks.”

  Yeah? And?

  He would never understand women. “How long have you worked there?” Maybe he had the time frame mixed up. He thought she’d only gotten here this summer, but maybe he was wrong.

  “Four weeks,” she said.

  Crazy. All of them.

  He couldn’t think of anything to say. And he sure as hell didn’t want to make her start crying. He’d never known how to deal with women’s tears.

  “But that doesn’t mean”—she took a ragged breath—“that doesn’t mean I didn’t know about eyewitnesses before then.”

  His head shot up. What was she talking about? Had she been the victim of some violent crime? A protectiveness he’d never felt before washed over him.

  She closed her eyes and looked like the most vulnerable, innocent person he’d ever met. The made-up woman who’d tried to hook up with him inside was nothing compared to Gina’s wholesomeness. How could wholesomeness be so damn sexy?

  He reached out and took her hand. “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought I knew who killed my brother.” Her voice quavered. “But I was wrong.”

  “You were the eyewitness?” A sense of relief washed over him. No one had harmed her. At least, not that he knew of.

  Her nod was barely visible. “A kid went to prison for eighteen months.” A single tear streaked down each of her cheeks. “Because of me.”

  He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “People make mistakes. They don’t always see what they think they see.” He hadn’t made a mistake in tagging Cyrus Alexander, but perhaps other people misidentified suspects.

  “He was sixteen when he went in.” Her voice pleaded with him to understand. “Can you imagine what happened to him in there? How his life was ruined?”

  “So this is why you work for Morgan’s Ladder?” He stepped closer to her, the intimacy of the moment drawing him near.

  She sniffed and nodded.

  No wonder she brought so much passion to her work.

  “So where do we go from here?” he asked.

  “I continue to do my job.”

  He’d never seen her look so tired. So defeated. He tipped her face up with his finger. Just touching her made the connection between them more real. More alive. “And I continue to be the asshole on the other side of the case, making your life miserable?”

  “Something like that.” Her eyes studied his. Questioning him. As if trying to share things that were far different—far deeper—than her superficial words conveyed.

  “That doesn’t seem like a very good arrangement,” he said.

  “It’s why I came to Tallahassee. What I was meant to do.”

  He bent his head next to hers, reveling in their closeness. He wished it could be different between them. “But what if you’re wrong?” His mouth lingered near her ear. The scent of her beckoned him closer. “What if it’s not why you’re here?”

  “We’re not talking about the case anymore, are we?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” His nose skimmed the soft skin in front of her ear. “Or what I’m not supposed to do.”

  She pulled away from him far enough to look into his eyes. “We probably . . .” She brushed her lips on his. “Shouldn’t . . .” She grazed her lips on his again. “Do this.” She grasped the front of his shirt with her fingers and pulled him toward her. His hands immediately went to the top of her SUV, bracing him as he leaned into her kiss. She clutched the fabric of his shirt tighter. A release of tension trembled through his body as he realized that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

  A shiver raced down his spine as his lips settled onto hers. He’d wanted to do this ever since that first kiss they’d shared on the night they met. He moved his hand to her jaw and felt the dampness of her tears. The softness of her skin. The magnetic pull he couldn’t seem to escape.

  He brushed his tongue against her lips and she parted them as a soft moan escaped from her chest. He took a step forward, pinning her against the SUV with his body. Her hands skimmed his rib cage. His shoulders. Came to rest on his backside and pressed him forward, molding their bodies together as their tongues explored each other.

  A bright light flashed over them as tires crunched on gravel a few feet from them. Her hands rushed to his chest and pushed him away as the headlights to a car pulled into the space facing her SUV, illuminating them like a spotlight.

  She pushed against his chest even harder and he stepped back. He wanted to punch the asshole who’d ruined their kiss. Gina squinted and held up her hand to block the headlights. He stepped into the path of the beam, blocking it for her with his body as
he sidled up beside her.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said.

  “You’re not going back inside?” He’d waited all night for her to get here and he sure as hell didn’t want her to go. Not until he’d spent more time with her. Not until he understood what made him so drawn to her.

  She motioned to her tear-streaked face, then removed the set of keys she’d tucked in the waistband of her volleyball shorts. The lights on her SUV flashed behind her again as she beeped the locks open. “Can you tell someone on my team I’ve gone home?”

  “I don’t feel much like partying anymore, either.” He toed a rock beneath his feet. He wanted to spend more time with her, though he wasn’t sure which of his motives drove his desire. Was it Gina, the woman, or Gina, the employee of Morgan’s Ladder, who made him feel like he had to keep an eye on her? “Give me a ride to my condo? I rode here with Boomer.”

  “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  “This?” He motioned from her to him, then back again in the space between them.

  “Yes. This. It can’t happen again.”

  Her resolute demeanor felt like cold steel slicing into him. “I’m just asking for a ride home.”

  “I’m not coming inside.” She held a hand up, as if to accentuate her point. “Just dropping you off.”

  He wished like hell it was different between them, but wasn’t about to push himself on her, regardless of how much he wanted to kiss her again. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

  She jerked her head toward the SUV, motioning for him to join her, and they both climbed in. Her car smelled like lavender. A clear droplet of crystal hung from the rearview mirror, sending sparkles of light throughout the interior. He looked around the SUV while she texted her friend inside to let her know she was leaving. A gym bag and a briefcase sat on the backseat. A pair of Nikes were tossed on the back floorboard.

  By the time he’d texted Boomer to let him know he wasn’t coming back inside, they were cruising through the streets of Tallahassee.

  He settled back in his seat and tried to sort through what had just happened. She’d kissed him—and it was clearly her doing—but now acted like they’d committed some horrible sin. She didn’t want to get involved with him because of the case, but she’d been the one to clutch his shirt and pull him toward her.

  It wasn’t like there could ever be anything between him and Gina, even without the case. But he wanted to pretend that things were different.

  She’d eventually realize he wasn’t good enough for her. Sure, he got to play football for a few years, but he would always be the one with the sordid past.

  He knew he made a good first impression. Sports Illustrated had called him “ruggedly handsome.” The wives of booster club members fawned over him. He’d never had trouble going home with a woman when he had a need for sex.

  But Gina would learn soon enough that outward appearances didn’t solve everything. Sometimes they just hid the reality inside. A reality that would never live up to the promise. That would never make him good enough for a girl like Gina.

  “So I talked to my boss about the death penalty task force,” he said, trying to get his mind off of their kiss.

  “And?”

  “He’s asked me to be the representative for his office.” Okay, that wasn’t the complete truth. Landon had first asked Scott Meredith to recommend him to the senator for the assignment, but she didn’t need to know that.

  She jerked her head to face him. “On the task force?”

  He nodded. “I’m scheduled to go on an interview with you the day after tomorrow.”

  “The one in Tampa?”

  “Yep.” They’d be interviewing a college professor who specialized in eyewitness misidentification.

  “You’re sure you’re up for this? Discussing crime scenes and murders and stuff?”

  No, he wasn’t sure. But he’d volunteered for the task force before he’d known what all was involved. He’d thought it would be committee meetings. Debates. Statistics for and against the death penalty. He’d had no idea he’d have to interview people about the accuracy of eyewitness testimony. “I can handle it.”

  She nodded and seemed to think about his response for a minute. Then, as if the thought had just leapt into her mind, she turned toward him. “No one can know what we just did.”

  “I understand.”

  “No one.” She emphasized her words with a slice of her hand through the air.

  “I got it.” God, did she have to act like it was the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to her? It was a goddamn kiss. And a nice one at that.

  They fell into silence. His eyes darted to the curve of her breast as the faint glow from the dashboard shadowed her body. Headlights from each passing car shot a swath of light through the interior, illuminating her face for a brief moment. He shifted his body to look out his window, away from her. Surely he could keep his libido in check long enough to talk to her about all the reasons Cyrus Alexander should stay in prison. They’d had no business kissing. It conflicted with her professional obligations and sure as hell wasn’t a good idea for him, either.

  But he’d known from her reaction—the way she’d pressed her body to his, the way she’d opened her mouth and let his tongue explore hers—that she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.

  Gina felt Landon’s gaze on her from the other side of the car. She’d seen his eyes flash both passion and annoyance—and she wondered what was in them now.

  But she was driving him home. Period. And doing her best to forget the fantastic kiss they’d just shared. She tried to force herself to think of him as the forlorn child in the crime scene photos and not the sexy-as-hell man whose hands had molded to her hips, urging them closer as his mouth devoured hers.

  That first kiss, more than a week ago, had been innocent. She hadn’t known who he was then. But this one—this one she’d asked for, knowing exactly who he was and how he was connected to one of the cases at Morgan’s Ladder.

  Just her luck, the car that pulled up when they were in each other’s arms would probably end up belonging to a Florida State Supreme Court justice. Yeah, right. Like they hung out at the Twilight on Thursday nights. The end of her legal career before it ever got started.

  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t been more careful, especially on the heels of the fiasco with Christopher. She’d dated the guy a year and a half, then caught him in bed with a girl he’d met at the pizza place that same day. She’d been humiliated. Heartbroken. And worse—she’d been made to feel like she was disposable. Their relationship had meant so little to him that he’d slept with a girl he’d met two fricking hours earlier.

  She’d promised herself that she’d be much smarter with guys after that. So why was she kissing Landon Vista again? And she’d been the one to initiate it.

  He grunted brief directions to guide her way. She turned into the driveway of the condo complex where he lived and pulled her car along the edge of the asphalt. A streetlight shone from above, creating a bright pool of light in an otherwise inky-black night.

  A tall, thin man stepped into the beam of the streetlight, one of his hands raised in greeting.

  Landon groaned. “You should just floor it now.”

  “And run over him?” Sure, he looked kind of scary in his faded T-shirt and wrinkled pants, but she had Landon Vista with her. Tallahassee’s answer to Superman.

  Landon got out of the car, slammed the door shut a little harder than necessary, and stalked toward the man. The guy was almost as tall as Landon, but much skinnier, in a sickly sort of way. The two exchanged words, then both sets of eyes turned to look at her.

  Why was she a part of their conversation? And who was this guy?

  She shifted into park and slipped out of her side of the car, eager to find out.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Landon stood in fro
nt of Gina’s SUV, frozen in place, dreading the introduction he would have to make as soon as she crossed in front of the car toward them.

  As usual, his dad ruined everything.

  Her questioning look moved from one man to the other, then back again. His dad ogled her like some drunk at a strip club, stopping far too long on those shapely breasts. Landon’s possessiveness kicked in again. Even more than usual, he was disgusted with his old man.

  “You’re not going to introduce us?” His dad’s voice sounded wolfish. Sinister.

  “This is Gina,” he said. “She gave me a ride home.”

  She shot Landon a questioning look, then stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Landon liked the way she didn’t shy away from someone who was obviously dirty and disheveled. He’d always believed people needed to help others. But this was his goddamn father. A man who didn’t even try to help himself.

  His dad’s lips parted into a Wile E. Coyote grin, his tobacco-stained teeth yellow, even in the dim light. “Martin Vista.” His hand nervously smoothed his hair as soon as he’d released her grip.

  Her searching eyes met Landon’s. “Your father?”

  Years of memories cascaded through his mind. The time his kindergarten teacher wouldn’t release him to a drunken dad. The pitying whispers at his mother’s funeral, wondering why his dad wasn’t there for him, even though his parents had never married. The headline in the newspaper the time Martin had gotten banned from Landon’s high school football games for yelling obscenities at the opposing team.

  “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.” His dad chuckled and slapped him on the back.

  “We met through our volleyball league.” She seemed to understand the strained relationship between the two of them. “I’m not his—”

  “What can I help you with, Dad?” It was a standard conversation opener for the two of them, but Gina frowned at him.

  “I stopped by to see if you’d thought about my . . . investment opportunity.”

  Investment opportunity? He hated his dad for trying to sound so important. It was a fucking bait shop. “I haven’t changed my mind.”