by Anya Breton
“I’m trying to choose between two salads—”
“Salad.” He practically spat the word into the phone. Obviously, he believed lettuce was the lowest form of food. “You should leave there and find something proper. I mean even here there’s a nice little diner.”
Spying her opportunity, Gemma jumped in with, “Where’s here?”
“Keene.”
He was in Keene? Why had he gone there? She decided to take a risk. “Is the diner good enough to drive for?”
There was no answer at first. Had she made a misstep?
“The diner isn’t,” he began. “But I am.”
Her neck heated at the suggestive lowering of his voice. Playing it cool, she replied, “But I still need food.”
“Get something to tide you over and then I’ll treat you to a patty melt. I’ll text you the address. Text me your ETA.”
Gemma did exactly that.
* * * * *
Aston knocked on the door even though Ellen’s car wasn’t parked outside the address she’d given him. The confused female who answered looked Gemma’s age. She admitted they were friends but she hadn’t the first idea where Gemma was. Nor had she heard from her regarding staying the week.
Clearly someone had lied.
He thanked Gemma’s friend for answering his questions. Aston went over what he’d learned as he strode to the SUV. Gemma must have lied to her mother. Wherever she’d truly gone had to be somewhere Ellen would disapprove of. Aston bet it involved his brother.
Gemma was certainly determined. He might have admired the trait if he wasn’t two hours south of where he suspected she was. She had a head start on him. He had little hope of catching her before she made the biggest mistake of her life.
But he had to try.
Aston plugged the address of the bed-and-breakfast into his GPS and then set off as fast as he could manage in between dodging police radar.
Chapter Twelve
The diner was silver, exactly as Drew said it would be. Old-school diners like these were rare but definitely iconic. He must have been right about the food too. The smell of onions tickled Gemma’s nose when she got out of the car. Her stomach growled noisily at the promise of a good meal.
A scan of the interior through the windows showed her that she’d beaten Drew despite driving from Manchester. Nonetheless, she went inside and grabbed a booth in the corner. Gemma ordered a water to drink while she waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
She was about to phone Drew when he ambled down the sidewalk. He pushed through the door, smiling broadly. The wait was worth it simply to see that sunny expression directed at her.
Drew stopped beside her, waggling his eyebrows. He slid onto the end of her seat. The booth quickly became cozy when his thigh pressed firmly against hers.
“The patty melt is the best.” He pointed toward the entry on her menu as he dropped his phone atop the aluminum table. “Get it with onion rings.”
“Don’t patty melts have onions on them?”
Drew’s lips quirked into a heart-stopping grin. “I like onions.”
“You must not like kissing…” She let the words trail off when she realized who she was talking to. A blush stole into her cheeks.
“I love kissing.” Lowering his voice, he added, “I’d love to kiss you.”
“You won’t want to if I get the patty—”
Drew’s lips feathered against her cheek and then continued down to her chin. She held her breath in the fear that moving an inch would end the moment. He gripped her chin a hair too tightly. Slowly, he tugged her toward him until they were nearly nose to nose.
Gemma’s lungs stalled as she stared into the eyes of her lifelong crush. They were here, in Keene, far away from his family. They were safe to do what they wished. What Drew wished to do was kiss her. Giddiness welled up within her as his mouth closed over hers.
Until his tongue jabbed between her lips exactly as it had the first time he kissed her.
She could no longer blame the lackluster performance on the early hour. It was past dinnertime. Drew would have been awake at least five hours. And he didn’t smell of alcohol like the fraternity boys who had kissed this badly.
How was it playboy Drew Haizea was one of the worst kissers she’d ever met? More importantly, why was she thinking of his brother when his hand went to her breast?
The arrival of the waitress gave Gemma an excuse to end the kiss. Drew didn’t appear overly put out at the interruption. Instead, he ordered Gemma a patty melt with onion rings and himself a slice of apple pie.
Drew stroked her thigh beneath the table. She concentrated on the caress and on the thrill she ought to feel. His lack of conversation irked her. Shouldn’t he have offered an explanation for why he disappeared without word? Or at least ask her how she’d been?
No. She’d watched him with other girls countless times. Drew wasn’t a talker. He was all about action. She’d thought she’d be able to accept that. Gemma now knew better.
She’d simply romanticized Drew Haizea.
The man’s phone rang, flashing the name Elizabeth along with a photograph of a beautiful brunette. He lifted the hand that had nearly been in her pussy to grasp the device. A half-second later it was to his ear. “Hiya, babe. What’s up?”
Gemma quickly snared a little Air magic to enhance her hearing until she could follow both sides of the conversation.
“Can you pick me up a pint of Cherry Garcia on the way back from the gym?” an unfamiliar female asked through the phone’s tiny speaker.
“Sure thing,” Drew easily replied.
“How’s it going pumping iron?”
“Great. I’ll see you soon.” He disconnected the call. Barely a second passed before he dropped his hand back to Gemma’s thigh.
She stiffened beneath it. The woman on the phone must have been his fiancée. What did he think was going to happen? That Gemma would eat a meal and then fuck him in the car before he picked up ice cream for another woman? He must, because his fingers already skimmed the edge of her panties.
The phone rang again. This time the name was Linda and the image was of an attractive Asian woman.
Drew lifted his hand to his phone, clearly forgetting he possessed two. “Hiya, babe. What’s up?”
“Drew, darling,” the woman purred. “I need you. When can you get here?”
“Little tied up today,” Drew said as if he were completely alone. “Tomorrow?”
Gemma had heard quite enough. She nudged at his side. His lips twisted as he glanced at her.
“Hang on,” he told his lady friend and covered the lower half of his phone. “What?”
“I want to get up,” Gemma told him.
“Now?” Drew’s forehead crinkled in frustration.
“Yes, now. I need to go.”
Rather than move for Gemma, he lifted the phone back to his ear. “I gotta go.” The call ended before the woman could protest. Drew turned in the seat to look at Gemma. “You ordered a patty melt. Are you going to stiff me with the check?”
She could hardly believe her ears. The man received a monthly allowance greater than Gemma’s mother made in an entire year. Yet he was concerned about a five-dollar patty melt?
“I’ll get it for the road,” she replied in monotone. “Please, let me up.”
Drew exhaled a martyred sigh but slid out of the way at last. She wasted no time popping to her feet. Her crush stepped into her personal space before she could escape him. His usual scent was gone, replaced by the stench of old sex and new deodorant.
How had she missed it earlier?
“You’re making a mistake.”
She was quite certain he meant the words to be husky. He’d missed the mark completely, sounding ill rather than sexy. Gemma placed a comfortable distance between them as she searched for cash to settle her portion of the bill.
The final ember in the torch she’d held for Drew blew away when his lips c
urled into a sneer and he declared, “When will you ever get a chance at someone like me again?”
Gemma retorted, “I can only hope never.”
* * * * *
Aston attempted to infuse a little life into his voice beyond the angry clenching of his jaw. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”
“Is something wrong?” The woman’s concerned question meant he’d failed to put forth a calm front. Aston hadn’t the heart to lie to his brother’s fiancée. Not when there might still be time to stop Drew.
His brother was working out at the gym, the woman had said when he asked. Aston scoffed at the thought. If Elizabeth knew what Drew got up to when he went to the gym, she wouldn’t have let him go alone. Not that he believed Drew had actually followed through with the lie. No, his brother was probably with another woman.
Drew was probably with Gemma.
The storm that had been building in his belly since she’d disappeared threatened to crash each time he thought of them together. Aston truly hoped he didn’t catch them in the act.
However, he had no idea how to find them. Keene wasn’t a large town but it also wasn’t a single stoplight kind of place, like a few of the towns he’d passed on the trip. The only thing Aston had going for him was his memory of Ellen’s car and license plate. However, silver Subaru Outbacks were a dime a dozen in New Hampshire.
Should he phone a contact at the police station?
Aston slowed to a crawl. Was that…
A silver Outback was parked in the lot of a silver diner—exactly the kind of diner Drew would frequent. Aston did a circuit around the block. He pulled the SUV into a space along the nearby street where he’d see the patrons coming and going.
Familiar coppery auburn hair and a shapely figure in a black summer dress appeared at the glass door. Behind her stood the blond-haired, blue-eyed asshole Aston had to call blood kin. Drew’s expression was scrunched as he spit out words that couldn’t have been good.
Gemma clutched a tinfoil packet to her breast as she hurried down the sidewalk toward the silver car. Her lowered head kept Aston from discerning her mood. He leaned forward to fix that because if he didn’t know better, he might think Gemma was attempting to flee the man she’d pined for.
Aston called on the aether, tugging a bit of magic within so he could hear what was said. His attempt faltered when Drew grabbed hold of Gemma, whirling her to face him. And then Aston watched as his brother fastened his lips over her mouth.
Fury formed within his chest like a tornado gliding down from a black anvil cloud. It whirled and churned his insides until he thought he’d shake apart. But just when his fist had closed around the door handle, the couple broke apart.
Gemma charged to the silver car. This time Drew didn’t follow. Aston relaxed minutely, saying a silent praying to Aer for small favors.
* * * * *
Gemma made it as far as the McDonald’s on the edge of town before stopping. She needed to visit the ladies’ room before she could set out for Nashua as she’d originally told her mother. And she needed a breather from what she’d recently discovered.
The parking lot was busy with customers on their way to Vermont or back. Gemma waited for a pair of pickup trucks to pass before crossing. The line of customers at the registers was long. She dodged them in favor of the restroom. In the mirror above the standard sink in the dated space, Gemma noted the red marks Drew’s scruff had left on her cheeks.
She still couldn’t believe how much of a jerk he’d turned out to be. Romanticized was a poor term to describe what she’d done with her memories of Drew. Warped was more like it. Drew had always been a jerk, hadn’t he?
The guy’s crack about how she’d probably regain all the weight she lost and end up roly-poly all over again was the last straw. She’d nearly smashed her patty melt into his precious golden hair. Instead, she’d gathered up her courage and walked away without looking back.
With the Drew question answered, Gemma didn’t know what she wanted now. She’d always thought she’d get a job at one of the local galleries or the museum until she could gather enough money for her own business. Now the thought of having to see Drew on a regular basis soured her stomach.
Gemma washed her hands a second time before heading to the dining room. She needed a drink for the trip south. The diner waitress forgot to pack one and Gemma had been unwilling to wait while Drew harangued her.
It had been a long day with only a donut as a meal. Gemma ordered a sandwich to go with her drink because the patty melt in the car was what he’d wanted, not what she preferred. She stopped for napkins and a straw and then headed to the car.
Gemma halted in midstride upon finding a dark-haired male leaning against the back of her mother’s Subaru. Her breath left in a rapid, audible rush he would have heard, if not seen.
Aston Haizea was the last person she’d expected to find in a fast-food parking lot in Keene. How had he found her?
With only the large soft drink in one hand and the bag of food in the other serving as weapons, Gemma crossed the parking lot. She lifted her chin high though she trembled inside.
Would he accost her in this parking lot?
Silently, she hissed at herself for warming at the thought. He’d deceived her and taken advantage of her weakness. Aston needed a lesson.
If only he weren’t her priest. If only she hadn’t vowed to observe homage to him. If only she were stronger.
Aston clenched his arms around his middle to keep from grabbing her. Her features held the wide, wary look that made his insides angrily churn.
She was frightened.
If she hadn’t wanted him to chase her, she should have requested he take her home rather than disappearing from the hotel without a word.
He waited until he could speak at a conversational volume before asking the question on his mind. “Why did you leave?”
Gemma held her response until she was feet from him. “I didn’t trust you to bring me home.”
Words popped out before he considered them. “You thought I’d strand you on the coast?”
Her chin lifted fractionally but she didn’t respond.
Aston wished he could assure her he had every intention of bringing her safely back to her mother today. It would have been a lie. He’d planned to keep her on the coast until he was good and ready to release her.
He opened his mouth to add that he’d have let her go if she’d only asked. The words stalled in his throat. The pink flush and deeper crimson markings on her face held his focus. Someone had been kissing her and it had been for much longer than the one instance he’d viewed.
He’d been too late.
Anger whirled through his blood, lifting his temperature. “If I’d known you were going to seek out my brother the first chance you got, I would have kept a closer eye on you.”
“How much closer could you have possibly gotten?” she retorted with a spiteful spat.
Much, he silently answered. Aston’s audible reply was, “Let’s find out.”
He gripped her biceps, propelling her toward the SUV he’d parked three spots to the left. Rather than stick her in the front beside him as he’d wanted, Aston unlocked the back door. And then he engaged the child-safety locks.
Gemma made a small snuffle of irritation when he thrust her onto the backseat but she pulled her legs inside nonetheless. However, the dull thump from the inside followed by a slap against the glass implied she tried the door handle and, finding it locked, hit the window with her palm.
Aston opened the driver’s door, preparing for the litany of complaints she’d launch at him. Surprisingly, the Gemma sat quietly behind him. Somehow that was more worrisome than if she’d shouted. Operating on pure emotion—one he refused to examine—Aston began the trip to the location he’d only just decided upon.
His passenger remained silent through the short drive. He’d learned his lesson at the shore and made her get out of the car rather than risk she phone for a rescue again. Gemma was mute on
the march up the front walk. Though he could nearly see the metaphorical wheels turning in her head, she said nothing to stop him from doing what he shouldn’t be doing. Nor did she fight him as he tugged her down the corridor to the room he’d reserved.
That would change if she found out he’d booked a room in the very bed-and-breakfast he’d reserved for his younger brother.
Chapter Thirteen
Gemma waited until they were behind closed doors to let him have it. She crossed the room, placing a bed and two chairs between them. “You can’t honestly expect me to stay here after what you’ve done to me.”
“What have I done to you?” Aston remained near the door, effectively blocking her escape. His voice was steady but the dark expression she’d spotted on his face in the fast-food parking lot had yet to ease.
She inhaled while considering how to answer. Each phrase she came up with put the blame on her rather than on him. But he was the guilty party.
“You deceived me to get me out of the picture,” she declared at last.
“I didn’t plan it that way,” Aston easily refuted. “You turned out the lights. When I tried to tell you, you told me not to talk.”
Gemma couldn’t believe his nerve. “What about the next day? You sought me out and invited me to dinner. Couldn’t you have mentioned it then? Before you deceived me a second time?”
He took two large steps into the room, bringing him nearly flush with the bed. Gemma dug her toes into the cushions of her shoes to keep from scrambling back. Yes, she was wary around him but she wasn’t going to show it if she could help it.
“There are a few obvious differences between me and my brother,” Aston began, waving toward his cheek. “I have a Van Dyke beard. I’m four inches taller. My voice is deeper.” He leaned forward, setting his palms atop the baby-blue quilt. “You can explain away the height by the darkness and the voice because I only whispered, but you can’t expect me to believe you thought Drew had grown this in eight hours.” The quick jab toward the trimmed hair at his chin emphasized what this was.
