She dug short, unpolished nails into the palms of her hands. “I understand. I don’t want to make trouble. I just needed to see you.”
“Well, now you’ve seen me. You can go.”
He started to walk around her and she grabbed his forearm. He wanted to shove her away, but a lifetime of being taught never to hurt a woman wouldn’t let him. He settled for lifting her hand away and stepping back.
“Please. Just listen to me. I promise to never bother you again.”
“I can accomplish the same thing with a restraining order.”
“Please, Brandon. For old times’ sake.”
That was the wrong thing to say. “You are mistaken if you think bringing up the past is a way to win points with me.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. But please...” She looked more uneasy than he’d ever seen her.
He paused, still glaring at her.
She took a deep breath. “I’m here to make amends.”
“What?”
“I want to make amends.”
“You have got to be kidding me. What sort of angle are you working now? Don’t tell me—you’re investigating someone in town and need me as part of your new cover.”
She flinched but didn’t argue back. “No angle. You are one of the people I hurt. I want to apologize to you and try to make it right.”
He looked at her again. Really looked. Her appearance wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Her demeanor was different. Less confident. Humble. Unsure. He leaned his head back and looked at the sky and then blew out a long breath. She might actually be sincere. And even if she wasn’t, she was determined to speak her piece. He was willing to give her a chance if that meant he’d be rid of her for good. “You have five minutes.”
She nodded and rubbed her hands against her slacks, then hesitated as if she didn’t know where to start.
He didn’t say a word. He certainly wasn’t going to help her get started. She’d been bugging him for weeks. She should have scribbled notes on cards. Leaning against the porch post, he crossed his arms and waited. She only had five minutes. Whether she talked or not was up to her. But when her time was up, he was gone.
“I loved my brother. Evan was the cutest baby and the best kid in the world. When he turned thirteen he changed. My parents adored him and didn’t see the change until it was too late.”
She stared into the distance, then looked at Brandon. He didn’t want to get sucked into her story and start to feel compassion for her, so he tapped a finger on his watch.
“Right. Well, Evan started getting into trouble with the police when he was sixteen. I’d already begun working for the FBI. I thought it would help if he came to stay with me in Chicago for the summer so I could keep an eye on him. I even had a job lined up for him.” She shook her head slowly. Sorrowfully. “Bringing Evan to Chicago was a mistake. Within a week he’d found a group of messed-up kids to hang around. I didn’t know it, but he had started selling drugs. He got on the wrong side of Jason Smith, a major dealer who just happened to be a silent partner in the restaurant where you worked. He had Evan killed.
“My parents blamed me. They said their son would still be alive if I hadn’t convinced them to let him come to Chicago. Maybe they were right.” Her voice broke and she wiped a tear from beneath her eye. “I was blinded by pain. That’s no excuse, I know, but I couldn’t let Smith get away with murdering my brother. I needed a way to get close to him and you were it. I’m sorry.”
Despite his intent to keep his heart hard toward her, a part of Brandon understood. He would lose it if something happened to Joni. “Are things better with your family?”
She shook her head. “I convinced myself that if I got justice—really revenge—for Evan’s death they would forgive me. I was wrong. I went to see them after...after. They told me I wasn’t welcome at their home anymore. As far as they were concerned, I died to them the same day Evan did.”
“Oh. Wow.” He couldn’t imagine parents being so cold to their own child. Families were supposed to pull together in times of tragedy, not turn on their own.
“I was already in trouble at work and their rejection tipped me over the edge. I went off the rails. I stopped caring about myself and started drinking. I hit rock bottom about a year ago and stayed down there for a while. I lost my job. My condo. The few friends I had left. Anyway, about a month ago I started a program. Got a job. Started to make amends to the people I hurt.
“I know you want me out of your life, and I’ll stay away. I just wanted to explain what happened and to apologize. I am so sorry you got hurt. I did care about you. I just cared about revenge more.”
He nodded. Who was to say he wouldn’t have acted the same way in her situation? Blind pain could bring out the worst in even the best person. “I forgive you.”
Her eyes met his and something akin to hope flashed there. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
He extended a hand. He hadn’t known what had motivated her to act as she had. Now that he did, he could understand. “I wish you the best in the future.”
“Thanks. I hope the same for you.”
Brandon watched her drive away. Miraculously, he felt lighter than he had in years. Forgiving Sylvia had lifted the distrust he’d held inside for so long. He didn’t need the walls around his heart any longer. He was finally free to love again.
Chapter Twelve
Arden heard the knock on her door. She’d been anticipating it since she’d walked away from Brandon an hour ago. While she’d waited, she’d showered and changed into a tank and shorts, then polished her toenails a cheery red.
“Coming,” she called as she removed the last cotton ball from between her toes. She scooped up the others and shoved them into her pocket. She’d dispose of them later.
“I’m glad you’re still up,” Brandon said, walking into the room. “I imagine you have quite a few questions.”
“I know your private life is none of my business, but...” She shrugged and her words faded out as she didn’t quite know how to continue. She had felt those full warm lips on hers on several occasions. Been wrapped in his strong arms. She and Brandon had been spending a lot of time together. Nothing official had been said, but their relationship was evolving into something more than friendship. At least it felt that way to her. She wanted to know more about the mystery woman and her relationship with Brandon.
“Can we sit down?”
Arden nodded and joined him on the small love seat. She had been around him for a while, but it still amazed her how completely he overwhelmed a room. The space suddenly felt a lot smaller. More intimate. And, darn it, despite the fact that there was a lot to be straightened out between them, when the heat from his body reached her, her stomach did a little topsy-turvy thing and she longed to lean into him and let his warmth envelop her. She settled for leaning against the armrest and facing him.
“Sylvia is my ex-fiancée.”
The warmth vanished and was immediately replaced by a chill. “Fiancée?”
“Ex-fiancée. Sort of.”
“You’re not making sense.” At least she didn’t think he was. It was hard to be sure when the word fiancée kept reverberating in her mind, crashing into the other words he was saying.
“I told you that I used to work in a restaurant in Chicago.” He glanced at her. She managed to nod. “I didn’t know it at the time, but one of the partners was actually a drug dealer. I’m talking big-time. He didn’t have any input in the daily operation of the business, so we didn’t have any interactions to speak of.
“One day, Sylvia came to the restaurant. I was making the rounds, talking with some customers. She introduced herself. I thought she was attractive, but that was about it. A few days later she returned and later became a regular. We struck up a friendship and even
tually started dating. It wasn’t unusual for her to stop in after work and then hang out until closing time.” He shook his head and Arden wondered what he was thinking. Was he remembering the good times he’d shared with this other woman? His face certainly didn’t give anything away.
“Anyhow, eventually I proposed and she said yes.”
A lump formed in Arden’s stomach. She wanted to know more, but at the same time she wanted to cover her ears and hum show tunes loudly. He must not have noticed her inner turmoil because he kept right on talking.
“A few months later we were at the restaurant. It had just closed for the day. We were walking to her car when all hell broke loose. One minute the night was quiet and the next bullets were flying. Sylvia was right in the middle of it. A guy was shooting at her. I knocked her down to protect her. The next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital. I’d been shot three times.”
“What?” Arden thought she was prepared for anything, but hearing about a gun battle when she expected to hear about an unfaithful fiancée was something no one could prepare for.
“It turns out Sylvia was an FBI agent. Her brother had been murdered by a drug dealer and she wanted revenge. The restaurant’s silent partner was that drug dealer. She’d been hanging around so she could find out how he operated. A takedown had been planned for that night, but a police officer was on Smith’s payroll and alerted him to the plan before it went down.”
“Wow. Just...wow.”
“That’s one way of putting it, although I’ve used more colorful words myself.”
“I bet. When did this happen? And why is she here now? Don’t tell me she wants to get back together with you.” Please, no. But then Arden would soon be returning to Baltimore, so what did it matter? Still, it felt like someone had shoved a knife into her stomach and started twisting it.
“Just over three years ago. I moved to Sweet Briar when I was well enough. Sylvia said she came here to make amends.”
“Did she even love you?” What would be the worse answer? Hearing that she did and sacrificed that love, or hearing that she didn’t and had only been using him?
“Who knows. She said she did, but how can I ever be sure? She lied about everything else, including her name. One part of me understands why she did that. She was undercover, after all. But, still, she created a whole different identity. I don’t think I ever knew who she was inside. At this point, I don’t think it even matters.”
“Brandon, I’m sorry that happened to you.” Arden’s voice was reduced to a whisper. She tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry.
“Hell, it’s in the past, but I know you have an active imagination and I didn’t want to leave you in here imagining the worst. I wanted you to know the truth.” He stood and stretched. “I’m beat and I guess you probably are, too. I’d better let you get some sleep.”
She nodded and tried to stay calm as fear gripped her heart. Why hadn’t she told him the truth sooner? He might not be willing to listen to her explanation about why she’d used an alias all this time. And didn’t that stink.
Maybe she should just leave town without telling him who she really was. Her car was running and she could leave anytime. Would she? That was the question she couldn’t answer.
* * *
After a restless night of tossing and turning, Arden hadn’t reached a decision on whether to leave or stay. She did know that she was going to come clean with Brandon and Joni. She didn’t feel comfortable continuing to keep her identity a secret when she knew the hurt Brandon had experienced at the hands of another woman who’d deceived him. Actually, she had begun to feel uncomfortable before then. She wished she had acted sooner.
Oddly enough, unless someone referred to her as Arden West, she hadn’t thought about the name she was using. She simply thought of herself as Arden. Now that she knew the type of person Brandon was, she knew he would have treated her with the same kindness whether or not he’d known her real last name. Of course, hindsight was twenty-twenty.
She did know one thing for sure: she was through running from difficult situations. She was going to face her problems head-on. That was what she should have done with Michael-the-pond-scum. When she’d overheard him plotting to secretly make a sex tape so he could blackmail her, she should have confronted him. Instead, she’d tucked her tail between her legs and left town like she’d been the weasel. She’d run when she should have stood and fought. After all, she had recorded him plotting on her cell phone. She didn’t have everything he’d said, but she had enough to prove what he had been planning. Her brothers wouldn’t have acted like cowards. They would have let that jerk know he’d made the mistake of his life when he decided to take on a Wexford. They would have fought as hard and dirty as necessary. And they would have won.
Maybe part of her problem was that she had relied on Jax and Blake to fight her battles for her. Standing on her own two feet meant doing it herself instead of running away. Depending on herself actually meant being dependable. She would start today. Now. She had to act no matter how afraid she was of losing Brandon.
That decided, she dressed quickly, combed her hair and headed down the stairs. She’d expected Brandon’s truck to be gone, but still felt a twinge of disappointment that he wasn’t around now when she was feeling strong. Who knew if she would be this ready to confess her wrongdoing in an hour or two?
“Hey, Joni,” Arden said, crossing the back lawn to where her friend stood hanging laundry to dry in the sun and fresh air. She was tempted to confide the truth about her identity to Joni as sort of a practice run, but didn’t. She had to tell Brandon first. Sure, she was close to Joni, but she had begun to feel a different type of closeness with Brandon since the first time he’d pressed his tantalizing lips to hers. As she’d listened to him describe his relationship with his former fiancée—man, she hated the sound of that—she could tell he still carried the pain of betrayal. And if she didn’t do something immediately, she would be the one hurting him. Her stomach churned at the thought.
“You’re up mighty early.”
“I know. It’s becoming a habit. I haven’t decided whether it’s good or bad. You’re up pretty early yourself.”
“I have so much to do I have to get up at this ungodly hour just to keep my head above water. The summer days are really hectic at the youth center. It’s as if kids save up all of their energy throughout the school year and explode over the summer. We have so many fun things to do and they’re determined to do them all at least once.” Joni reached into a clothes basket and grabbed a wet pillowcase, draped it on the clothesline and pinned it in place. “I’m going to be working like a madwoman these next few days, so I want to reward myself by sleeping on sun-dried sheets when I finally get to fall into bed.”
“Need help?”
“With the laundry or the youth center?”
“Either. Both.” Being busy might help her settle her nerves and hold on to her resolve to come clean with Brandon.
“Yes to both.”
Arden pulled out another pillowcase and secured it to the line. “I love the smell of clothes dried by the sun.”
“Me, too. I try to dry my laundry this way as often as possible, but normally I’m so busy I just toss everything in the dryer.”
“What kind of help do you need at the youth center?”
“We’re about to have our summer bash.”
“What’s that?”
Joni rolled her eyes. “Organized insanity.”
Arden laughed and helped Joni hang a queen-size sheet. She wondered idly if it belonged to Brandon and imagined lying on his bed with him before forcing herself to pay attention to what Joni was saying.
“Seriously, it’s a weekend-long festival. The whole town is involved.” Joni hung the last bit of laundry on the line and dropped a couple of unused clothespins into the basket. “The su
mmer bash is like the rest of the summer on steroids. We have activities day and night and a giant sleepover. We start Saturday at noon with a parade through town. We don’t have many floats, but kids ride their bikes or pull wagons. The high school marching band comes. We even have a fire engine, which delights the younger set. Fingers crossed the weather is great because we’ll be at the beach a lot of the weekend. We end things with fireworks. Then I’ll come home and collapse.”
“Sounds hectic and wonderful. What can I do to help? And when?”
“I could use you any time you can help out.”
“Done.”
“Would you be interested in judging a talent show Saturday after dinner?”
“You mean with singing and dancing? Sure. Sounds fun.”
“It is. The hardest part is finding unbiased judges. Most everyone in this town is related to one of the contestants. I had one mother who didn’t believe anyone was more talented than her little Tommy who fell off his pogo stick every other hop. She and another judge whose daughters perform synchronized hula-hooping nearly came to blows. True story. Made me think we should add mud-wrestling moms. Of course, if you would rather participate in the show, you can do that, too.”
“Adults participate?”
“Yep. It’s a hoot although they can’t win any of the prizes. You wouldn’t believe some of the talent we have in this town.”
“I think I’ll stick to judging. I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself.”
“Good enough. If you can be at the center around noon today we can get set up. The weekend will be here before you know it and there’s a lot of work to be done before then.”
“Okay.” Arden wandered away, wondering why she was getting more involved with the community instead of distancing herself before the truth about her identity came out. Of course, helping at the youth center gave her one more reason to stay in town longer. Truthfully, she saw the value in the work Joni did and she wanted to be an active participant. Anybody could donate money—and she still planned to do that—but Joni needed willing workers. She was making a difference in the lives of so many people. By helping, Arden was making a difference, too.
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