“That’s the truth.”
“No, I’ll tell you the truth.” Audrey’s father leaned forward in the chair and broke the man rule of the night by looking him straight in the eye. The direct connection from his hard stare made the fire stop crackling in his ears. “I’m not ignorant to the kind of things you write. I know what you’re here for and I don’t like it. My daughter has been through enough in life. This town has been through enough. I’m askin’ you to leave this one alone and find whatever dirt your lookin’ for somewhere else.”
Saliva filled Ethan’s mouth, but he wouldn’t dare swallow. Paul hadn’t broken the man rule, but instead used the one exception men were allowed: to look a man in the eye when he was threatened. Where the magnitude of the message was of the utmost importance. But all media junkies lived for stories like this, and Paul’s insistence to stay away only made Ethan want to push more.
“She’s running for a public office. Opening this can of worms was her doing.” Despite the meaning of his words, Ethan made sure to keep his tone sympathetic, even softened.
“No, you opened it.”
“Then why’d she come home and let me see this if she didn’t want the worms set free?”
“You should ask her that.”
“I did. She said she wanted me to see her family. Said you had big hearts, bigger hospitality, and you were the best people she knew.”
For a man who showed no other emotion than condemnation, Paul displayed shock well enough. The wrinkles on his forehead pointed upward for once and Ethan could see the full white of his eyes instead of a half-squint.
Eventually, he looked away and cleared his throat. He reached down beside his chair and cracked open another can. “Hard to hear that.” Long sips filled the break between his words. “Words I don’t really deserve. It’s been a long time since my daughter has done something with her life I could get behind. Her teenage years were my toughest as a father. She did a lot of things I didn’t approve of.”
The normal response for someone without an agenda would have been “don’t most teenagers?” It’s what Ethan wanted to say to console a doting father. But his dirt-digging job had trained him otherwise.
“Like what? She didn’t want to join Junior League?”
Paul shook his head and focused on his boots. “That was her mother’s dream, not mine. She was rebellious, headstrong, stubborn…desperate to show her independence. I lost track of how many times we were called by parents upset with something Audrey said to their daughters, or just generally complaining. But underneath it all, Audrey had a good heart and meant well. She was the first to help a hurt stray or give her lunch money to a kid whose parents were laid off.”
Sounds familiar. With how hard and heavy Audrey pushed for this Women’s Crisis Center, it was bound to be the grand slam of philanthropy. Perhaps a trait she inherited from her family, or maybe just born with a golden heart among a town of bronze pellets.
“But any ruckus that went on in this town was put on Audrey’s shoulders, whether she was responsible or not.” Paul grabbed another beer and tossed it in Ethan’s lap as he continued. “It didn’t help that senior pranks were her specialty, all four years of high school. But at the end of the day, people just disapprove of anyone different. And Audrey was different.”
Yes, she is. Which is probably why I can’t stop thinking about her.
Ethan stared at the beer can in his hand. Four years without a drop of alcohol, but he didn’t want to insult the man who had just started to squeeze out the juice he needed for his article. So he just held the frigid metal in his fingers.
“But as hard as I’ve been on Audrey, Adam is tenfold. He does have a lot of anger and he has his reasons. Just like many people in this town. The way I see it, there are three things that run deep in this place: that creek over there, memories, and grudges.”
The clouds moved with the wind, allowing a sliver of a half moon to shine across the grass into the heavy woods on the other side of a large crevice. The branches in the large oaks creaked and swayed to the rhythm of the flowing water that Ethan could hear, but not see within the fracture’s dark space.
“My daughter is many things, but not a murderer. She was just in the right place at the wrong time. People made assumptions, chewed on it like tobacco to an outlandish story, and stuck it to the bottom of their boots.”
“What kind of assumptions?”
“You’ll have to ask her.”
They sat staring at the dying fire. Maybe it was another man rule, or maybe it wasn’t, but leaving a fire before it dwindled felt disrespectful. At least out here where the stars were brighter, even if hidden above a layer of clouds.
Chapter Thirteen
Nothing I can’t handle.
Audrey had been saying those words for the last ten years, so often it felt like her personal motto. At what point would she run into a situation she couldn’t handle? And how would she respond? Explode into a raging tirade of expletives, throw punches and karate kicks, or withdraw completely like a scared rabbit?
It was a wonder she handled the events that had led to this point without losing her sanity. At least, when in public. Distraction was a useful tool in times like that.
So Audrey buried herself in the paperwork she had brought along for the weekend, while snug in her green flannel pajama pants and loose T-shirt. Speech notes, campaign funding reports, and upcoming interview agendas. She would have much rather reviewed legislative bills or construction plans for the Crisis Center. God willing, this election would help her achieve both.
Wyatt Williams was a fierce competitor with years of experience in the House of Representatives. But all of those years proved he was nothing more than a bull in a china closet, or a snake in a rat’s nest. Audrey just needed to show the people she was more capable of getting things done in Austin without blowing up the bank. Which would be a lot harder now that her own brother had accused her of murder in front of a reporter.
Canyon’s notes on her latest speech blurred red across the black and white text. The guy was a genius in pinpointing statistics to prove a platform, and putting them in words that swayed even the most confirmed disbelievers. Her campaign team was the killer combination. Miranda found the right venues and audience, Canyon wrote the words with which to influence people, and Audrey closed it. But the fourth companion on her team started to fail her: the empty glass of wine on her desk.
The clip in her hair itched her scalp, and when she pulled it out, the ache permeated down each strand of hair. She massaged her head and grimaced at the split ends. She’d need to cut them before the awards ceremony on Saturday.
“You hardly look the murdering type.”
The soft words made her breath stop. She stared at her bedroom door, now open with Ethan’s eyes boring into hers. The dim light reflected in his pupils, dilated and playful. She didn’t remember hearing a knock or the door squeak open, and his stare felt like an intrusion. One arm braced on the frame, he held a glass of clear liquid on the rocks in the other. But what unnerved her most were his eyes waiting for a response to the uncomfortable question.
“You must be used to not knocking, as a scandal seeker. But please remember you’re in someone else’s house and etiquette rules apply.” Audrey pushed up from the chair and steadied herself, trying to wince out the needles in her leg, which had fallen asleep. And it was the wrong moment for her nipples to react to his manly presence.
“Etiquette?” His eyes laughed back at her. “How about answering a question?”
“You didn’t ask one.” She crossed her arms, hoping it hid most of her body’s unwanted response.
“Touché. I never thought I’d see The Peacemaker crying.”
“I’m not crying. And don’t call me that here.”
“Oh, okay. Then I’ll just take the wetness in your eyes as allergies and the empty wine glass as medicinal.”
“There’s no story from what you heard downstairs. Nothing politically related, anyway
.”
“Everyone has family crap. It’s required if you’re a human being.” Ethan stepped forward and swung the chair around, straddling it like a horse—slowly—and crossed his arms over the back. The junction between her legs reacted with a traitorous clench and warmth. She refused to acknowledge it.
“Including you?”
“I don’t have a family. I’m exempt.”
“Didn’t you say your father was in Chicago?”
“He’s not my family.”
Audrey nodded. “Yep, including you.”
“I take it there’s a lot of history from what happened downstairs.”
Audrey shrugged and held the glass in one hand, cradling it between her fingers. “Everyone has a black swan in the family.”
The man’s eyes studied her for several moments, and the feeling of intrusion took over again. Like an unwilling patient being examined by a curious doctor who just started worrying about how his pokes and prods could hurt. Another heartbeat later, as they continued to stare at each other, his gaze took on an entirely different characteristic. Whether it was his deeper breathing or the moisture on his lips thickening, with the corners of his mouth turned up a hair, suddenly all she wanted was for him to stay right where he sat. Legs spread and hot pheromones dripping from his gaze. Her T-shirt tugged against her nipples, now starting to ache. Heat built inside of her body, though from the wine or his presence, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. Just as long as he kept looking at her. Testing the limits without questions.
He took a long sip from the glass. It could have been vodka, or possibly gin, but there was no smell to it, only a few feet from his penetrating stare. Water was the best guess. Why just water? Guys like him probably lived on beer or Coke and rum.
The great watcher licked his lips, deliberately, taking his time in conjuring up his next move. But unlike her body’s responses, she wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
“I take it the right place at the wrong time ended in someone’s death. And perhaps that was also the last time you were here.”
Audrey kept her eyes on his face, trying to capture a glimpse of gloating that he was sure to reveal. But her only answer to his affirming face was more silence.
“Two for two. Which would explain the name change. To hide whatever happened here.”
“I never said I was hiding.”
There he goes again. Making assumptions of the most unimportant details. Journalists were all the same. Don’t trust him, Audrey. He’s out for the story, and not you.
“There’s obviously a lot of pain there. Your brother called you a murderer. How does that make you feel?”
Disappointed, hurt, unloved. All of the above she wanted to admit, and had to her therapist over the years. But not to the journalist. If the human with a heart ever showed up in Ethan’s place, she’d probably spill everything.
“To be honest, nothing I wasn’t expecting. I hoped for something more sibling-like, but I’m not surprised.” Audrey sat on the comfort of her bed, hoping a brace could offer some kind of support, anything to get her mind off how damn hot this wolf looked.
“You said Adam was the protective type. I don’t think calling your sister a murderer is very protective.”
“He is protective, just not of me. Not anymore, anyway.”
“What causes a brother to lose that instinct for his sister? For you?”
“I know what you’re targeting.” Audrey’s eyes narrowed in on him. “And you’re not going to find the answers you’re looking for. You said you’d leave my family out of this.”
Adam let out an annoyed sigh and uncrossed his arms, now gripping the sides of the back of the chair. “We’re not talking about your family. We’re talking about you. So let’s cut to the chase. What exactly is everyone talking about? What happened?”
“You’re the journalist. Why don’t you dig it up for yourself?”
“You know I’m going to. This is me asking for your side of the story.”
“What’s the point? You’ll write the worst image of history, whether it’s true or not. So why should I help you?” Fire raged in her stomach, as well as her mind, knowing the calm and collected Audrey Allen was losing it with this too-handsome-for-his-own-good reporter sitting in her favorite chair sprinkling gasoline on kindling embers.
“Because you need my help for your campaign. Because you’re the one with the most to lose.”
“Like you have nothing to lose.”
“Nope. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Neither did I.”
The gleam in his eyes could burn cities to the ground. And enflame a passion more raw than anything Audrey had ever felt.
“I don’t have a grudge against anyone,” Audrey continued. “Well, except the media, because of this very reason. And I’m not going to let you hurt anyone in this town by scrounging for more scandals.”
Ethan’s eyes flared and his mouth dropped open, stealing the breath from her lips.
“You’re not going to let me hurt…after what they did to you today?” His voice turned angry and biting. “After what they said? How can you protect them?”
Though he hadn’t moved from the chair, his presence doubled and his face turned darker, more primal. The change was awing and intimidating. Why was he so passionate? Almost defensive.
“Adam isn’t the only protective one in my family.” Audrey stood from the bed and placed her wine glass on the dresser. The hair clip was her next distraction. Her next way of handling things, as she twirled her hair above her neck and secured it to her scalp.
Like a jaguar, Ethan silently slipped from her favorite chair and stopped only an inch from her face. His warm breath singed her lips as he pinned her to the spot with his gaze, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her palms grew sweaty and her knees weakened. Somehow she forgot to breathe with those sea-gray irises holding her in place.
“I’m going to find out the truth, Audrey.” His silky voice conflicted with the dagger-like words. Just as the desire in his eyes conflicted with the very purpose of his presence. “When I do, you’ll want to spill everything to me then.”
His lips parted and his gaze moved to her mouth. The inch between them became a millimeter. If only her mind wouldn’t let her care anymore, she’d let her body loose. Explore every wild thought in her mind.
“If you find out the whole truth, I won’t have to spill anything. To anyone.”
His gaze moved back to her eyes and suddenly she found her own lips parted. A tender touch slid through her fingers, shooting tingles up her arm and into her chest. Ethan’s hand inched up to her wrist, where the full heat of his palm lightly closed around her arm. Instinctively, he pulled her against him and her waist moved against his hips, their mouths still barely a hair a part.
His grip moved from her wrist to her waist, both hands, and pressed further. The thickening against his pants grew harder, longer, and unmistakably hotter. Her core sparked and a red flame pooled in her groin. Just once, she wanted to let that side of her take over and quench it. Their hips ground against each other and their lips, hot and anticipating…
Thump.
A muffled laugh filtered through the door.
Ethan frowned and glanced down to the non-existent space between their bodies. And his raging erection. Audrey couldn’t catch her breath and realized the thump wasn’t from either of them.
She glanced to the door and recognized the repeated muffled laugh as Adelaide’s. And then a much deeper “Shhh” followed.
Audrey flattened her hands against Ethan’s chest, his chest strong and hot, and then clenched his shirt in her fists. His breathing quickened under her fingers and he squeezed her hips harder. As if he refused to let her go.
So damn close.
She pushed away from him, as if space were her only salvation, and then moved to the door. A few steps later, she was down the hallway and ready to knock on Adelaide’s door, when muffled whispers came through again.
> Two voices. One she recognized, and the other not at all. “Keep quiet, Brace. Gimme your shirt.”
Adelaide’s playful whisper to the enigmatic “Brace” stopped her breathing. The hot arousal lingering in her body chilled instantly. Painful memories filled her mind. Not again.
Audrey knocked lightly and didn’t wait for a response. She opened the door and caught Adelaide kneeling on her bed wearing boy shorts and a pink lace bra. An adolescent wannabe body builder Brace stood at the end, wearing even less. Shock filled the boy’s face, too stunned to cover his naked self, while fear filled Adelaide’s eyes as she held Brace’s T-shirt.
Before anyone could make a sound, Ethan moved behind her and witnessed the teenaged hormone exploratory session.
“Oh shit,” he murmured.
“Oh shit,” Brace repeated.
Not again. Audrey sighed as the only means to keep from groaning aloud and having her parents hear the commotion.
“Brace,” Audrey snarled. “You have thirty seconds to get your clothes on and get out of this house before my father sees you. Addy,” her fierce gaze flickered. “We need to talk. Now.”
On the verge of tears, Adelaide nodded, covering herself with her arms.
Audrey closed the door and waited, as she heard movement around the room on the other side.
“Relax. They’re just kids,” Ethan whispered behind her.
“Exactly. She has no idea what fire she’s playing with.”
Ethan giggled. “That was hardly fire between his legs. More like the Oscar Meyer Weiner whistle.”
“This is serious,” she hissed.
“All right, I’ll admit it wasn’t smart to try that in her parent’s house full of guests, but it’s not like they’re the first teenagers to bump uglies upstairs. I did worse at his age.”
Audrey’s eyes narrowed on him. “Oh, I have no doubt. Which is exactly why you should keep your butt out of this.”
“Give them a few minutes.” His voice darkened a shade. “Let’s finish what we had starting in there.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek and her face burned.
“Go back to your room.”
Audrey's Promise Page 10
