by Jill Sanders
“They do.” He smiled. “Even my parents.” He chuckled and handed her a soda. “There may not be blood between any of them, but they’re family. Even my folks. Their relationship goes beyond husband and wife. The way they tell it, from the first moment they met when they were kids, they were in love.”
Her eyes met his and he felt his heart kick. For the first time in his life, he knew exactly what his parents had been talking about.
Chapter 10
The next morning Clara woke in Reagan’s bed, his arms wrapped around her tightly as if he was still in protection mode, even while asleep.
She desperately needed to use the bathroom and tried to figure out how to escape his hold without waking him.
Deciding there wasn’t a way, she lifted his arm off her.
“Morning,” he said, wrapping both arms around her, causing her to groan.
She wiggled and felt him hard against her stomach. “I have to pee.” She escaped his hold.
Shutting the bathroom door on his chuckles, she freshened up, making sure to rinse her mouth out with some of his toothpaste, since her brush was in the other bathroom.
She’d never slept with a man… well, spent a whole night with him. She didn’t know what to do or what was expected of her in the morning.
He’d been hard. Did that mean he wanted to… She gasped and lifted her armpit for a sniff inspection. Frowning, she glanced around for something to make her smell better. Not that she stunk. But she desperately wished for her bottle of perfume.
“You okay in there?” he asked from just outside the door.
“Yeah,” she called out, trying to figure out how she could explain that she needed her bathroom. Giving up, she opened the door.
He was leaning on the doorjamb, his arm stretched out, blocking her from escaping.
“You look amazing in the morning.” He smiled down at her, then before she could dodge him, he leaned in and covered her lips with his. “You taste better than you look,” he said against her skin. “Come back to bed.” His hands were running up and down her sides as he started walking them towards the bed.
“Reagan, I could use a shower,” she said, arching her head back as he trailed kisses down towards her collarbone.
“I want you first, then we can shower.” He hoisted her up until her legs wrapped around his hips. Then they were falling back on the bed and she forgot everything except him.
She’d never showered with anyone before and was thankful the shower in his bathroom was bigger than the one in hers. Still, he filled up most of the space with his broad shoulders.
He was gentle as he washed her hair and rinsed it, then continued to run soapy hands over her body, making sure to clean every inch of her.
She disappeared into her room to wash her face before heading down the stairs.
He was standing at the stove flipping a pancake when she sat at the bar and watched him. Her eyes were glued to his back as he worked and her mind wandered.
She’d always dreamed of having a man like Reagan. Well, fantasized about it, at any rate. Yet she’d never really imagined she’d find someone so caring, so gentle, and yet so strong. Someone she trusted.
Just thinking about trust had her gazing out the windows as she thought about her own family.
What did they think about her? She knew that her leaving and going into hiding probably made them believe she’d killed Gina. Hell, her memories of that night were nothing but a blur, so she could have. But something in her gut told her she hadn’t. She’d loved Gina.
Looking back, she couldn’t remember one fight between them. But she also couldn’t remember going to her sister’s graduation earlier that evening. It was as if that entire day had been wiped from her memories.
What she did remember was waking up with something sticky covering her arms as someone stood over her screaming. Her stepmother, Rebecca, had gone into her father’s office to get the gift they had purchased for Gina and found them.
Clara had gotten to her knees, ripping her party dress and slipping in the fluid that covered her entire body. When she’d glanced down at her hands, her mind had gone blank, seeing them a deep red.
She’d look down at Gina’s dark eyes as they stared up at her without blinking. After that, she’d simply shut down. Since she was still on her knees, she hadn’t fallen over. Instead, she’d rested her hands on the edge of her father’s desk as people rushed into the room.
She remembered her father’s voice as he called to her while her stepmother screamed.
“What did you do?” she yelled over and over at her.
She was shuffled around, pushed into a chair, then a blanket was tossed over her shoulders.
The police came and she was ushered out of the house. After that, she was questioned until her head felt dull and she started slurring her words. Even then, she remained in a bright room and was only given water to drink as the police tried to get her to confess to something she had no memory of.
There were times she thought of just giving in and telling them something, anything, so she could get some rest. The skin they found under her fingernails was tested for DNA, and her clothes were taken from her for evidence.
Almost thirty hours after being brought into the police station, she was hustled back out by her father, his thick black raincoat covering her head as reporters shouted questions at them.
She spent a day at home, locked in her room, afraid to venture downstairs. Then, when her stepmother was at the store and her father was at the office, she’d packed up a bag of her belongings and disappeared.
“You’re deep in thought.” Reagan broke into her thoughts as he set a plate of pancakes in front of her. He sat next to her with his own plate. “Anything you’d like to share?”
“Just thinking about the past.” Her stomach knotted as the memories started to fade.
“About your sister?” he asked, putting his fork down and turning towards her. “Want to talk about it?”
At first, Reagan didn’t think Clara would say anything. But then she surprised him by turning towards him.
“I told you that she died,” she started slowly.
“Yes,” he agreed when she didn’t continue. He picked up her hands and started rubbing them. They were ice cold and when he looked into her eyes, he could tell she was struggling to find the right words. “Just say it,” he said softly. “I can see you’re struggling.”
Her eyes met his and she took a deep breath. “I… they found me next to her body. The murder weapon, an award my father had gotten the previous year, had my bloodied fingerprints all over it.” He waited, already knowing all of the information. Still, seeing her describe the details allowed him to get an insider look that none of the reports or interviews could have. “I… was unconscious when my stepmother came in to my father’s office. I… must have passed out. But her blood was everywhere.” She looked down at her hands now as if she could still see the blood on them.
“You could have been knocked unconscious,” he suggested, even though he’d read the medical examiner’s report that she had no visible wounds, a detail that would eventually free her from police custody, since Gina had obviously scratched her assailant.
“No.” She shook her head. “I was fine. Nothing was wrong with me.” She closed her eyes and he felt her shiver. “I can’t remember most of that day, up until I woke next to her.”
He frowned. That little detail wasn’t in any reports. “Did you tell the police that?” he asked.
Her eyes opened and focused on him. “N-no.” She shrugged. “It wouldn’t have done any good.”
“Did they do a blood test on you?” he asked, knowing already there hadn’t been one in her police file. “To see if there was anything in your system. Something that would explain the memory loss?”
“No.” She sighed. “They kept me in questioning so long.” She rested on the counter.
“Clara.” He waited until her attention was on him fully. “There are a lot of things that can interfe
re with memories.”
“I didn’t take anything,” she said in defense.
“No,” he agreed. “But something could have been slipped into your drink. It was a party, right?”
“Yes,” she agreed and tilted her head, “but nothing can wipe memories beforehand. Someone would have had to slip me something in my breakfast, since I don’t remember anything that day until I woke up on the floor.”
“Lots of them can.” He moved over to retrieve his laptop. Moving his full plate aside, he started searching for them.
While they ate, he ran through a list of the top ten over-the-counter drugs that could cause memory loss.
“I never knew there were so many pills that could do something like that,” she admitted.
“And those are just the over-the-counter ones. If we search prescriptions…” He did and they both groaned. “Yeah,” he agreed and shut his laptop down. “But without a blood test right after, nothing can be proven.”
“Who would want to slip me pills to make me forget?” she asked, standing up and taking both of their plates to the sink.
“The same person who killed your sister,” he answered.
Her hands stilled and he watched the plates teeter in them. Rushing over, he steadied her and set his grandfather’s favorite plates on the counter next to the sink.
“Easy,” he told her and wrapped her in his arms. “We’ll figure this out, together,” he promised her and kissed the top of her head.
One thing was clear to Reagan after spending some more time with her—Clara Cruz had had nothing to do with her sister’s death. Someone had tried, and failed, to frame her for murder.
Just then, the back door opened, and his uncle Marcus walked in carrying an armful of grocery bags. He was followed by his other uncles, Cole and Luke, all of them weighted down with bags.
“Oops,” Marcus said when he noticed them in the embrace. He immediately tried to back out of the door, but bumped solidly into Cole, who lost his hold on one of his bags.
Cans of soups spilled out of the reusable grocery bags his grandfather used.
“Hey, watch it,” Cole said, shoving his brother. “You have to tell Dad why you bent his cans.”
“What’s the hold up?” Luke asked as he tried to step all of the way in. “Oh,” he said after seeing Clara jump out of his hold. “Oops.”
By this time Cole had spotted them and smiled. “Does our dad know you’ve got a woman in his house?”
“I’m the one who told the boy to bring her here in the first place,” his grandfather said from the front door. “And I thought I told you boys to be careful.” He nodded to the spilled groceries.
“It was Marcus’ fault.” Cole pointed to his brother.
“Tattletale,” Marcus said under his breath as he stabbed Cole with an elbow. “Where do you want these, Dad?” he asked, recovering.
“I…” Clara glanced down at his T-shirt, which she was still wearing, and without another word, sprinted towards the stairs.
“Look what you did now, Cole. You’ve gone and scared her away,” Marcus joked.
“Me?” Cole set his remaining bag down on the countertop. “I don’t cause women to run away from me. I make them swoon.”
Just then, someone cleared their throat from the doorway.
Wendy Grayton stood with her hands on her hips as she watched her husband.
“Busted,” Luke joked and started to pick up the spilled groceries.
“What I meant to say was… I used to make them swoon.” Cole rushed over and wrapped his wife in his arms playfully, kissing her until she laughed and slapped at his shoulders.
“Who was that?” Marcus asked, moving to his side.
“Clara,” he answered, his eyes going towards the empty staircase.
“We didn’t mean to spook her,” he added.
“You didn’t.” He smiled and pushed his uncle on the shoulder, almost toppling the man over. “You’re too weak to spook anyone.”
It was an old game he and his uncles played. One he’d lost until he’d hit his last growth spurt and then bulked out in the military. Now he could easily take any of them down, if he wanted to.
Marcus shoved back, and they started to wrestle, until his grandfather stepped into the room.
“Not in the house,” he said softly, causing them to still.
“Sorry,” Reagan said, rushing to help put away the groceries. Then his dad walked in with a large cooler. “What’s all this food for?” he asked, seeing that the cooler was full of fish that his uncles and father had no doubt caught.
“We’re having a fish fry,” his father answered. “Everyone will be over in a couple hours.”
“We’ve got plenty to do to get ready,” his grandfather added. “So.” He turned to him. “Why don’t you go on up and get dressed.” He nodded to his bare chest and jeans. “You and Clara can help.”
Looking around the room, he understood what this was. This was his family’s way of telling him and Clara that she was accepted into the family.
The Grayton family had just picked up another lost soul to rescue.
Chapter 11
She had never met friendlier people in her life. Even when she’d lived at home, her parents had never had a family gathering that made her feel as warm and accepted as the Grayton family did.
She hadn’t laughed this hard in years. All of his aunts and uncles had arrived as well as his cousins: Lizzy, Karen, Rose, and the only other male in the group, Kade.
She’d been told the only one missing was Reagan’s sister, Bella, as everyone referred to her.
Reagan had mentioned that his sister was away at college in Arizona but was going to be home the following weekend.
Everyone moved around the house preparing for the large meal. When it got too hot, they all walked down to the pond and, to her slight surprise, stripped down to their boxers and underwear and jumped in. Every single one, even Reagan’s grandfather.
Since all of his aunts and cousins had done it, she peeled off her clothes, thankful she’d chosen a black bra and matching panties this time and joined them.
Then they all lay around on the sand and told stories of how they used to catch bullfrogs in the pond.
When the sun started sinking lower, a big silver pot was dragged out to the back porch. Slices of fish were placed in the thick dark sizzling oil. Most of the men stood around it like they were watching the latest game on the set. Clara helped get the rest of the meal together in the kitchen while sipping a glass of wine someone had handed her.
She was asked how she met Reagan and quickly told everyone the story, answering more questions as they worked.
Food was served and eaten on the back patio as the sun cast warm shadows over the yard and pond waters.
They were all sitting around the table when Reagan’s phone went off. When he stiffened next to her, she glanced over and happened to catch the name on the screen.
Reagan looked over at her briefly before getting up and walking into the house to take the call from her father.
All conversation seemed to stop while her eyes remained glued to the back door. It wasn’t until he walked back out that she realized just how nervous she’d been, knowing he might be in there telling her father where she was.
Did this mean she had to return home? What if her father caught a plane out here? Could she handle it if Reagan’s family knew about what she’d been accused of?
Standing up quickly, she wrapped her arms around herself and walked away from the group, knowing that Reagan would follow her and fill her in.
They ended up back at the pond’s edge.
“This is a magical place,” she said under her breath. “Here, I’ve allowed myself to forget everything.” She closed her eyes as Reagan wrapped his arms around her. “I feel as if I could just let go of… well, everything. Like I could actually be happy again.”
“You can,” he said softly. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Soon,” he promised. �
�You know we have to go. We can’t let whoever did this get away.”
She leaned back and looked up at him. Her eyes scanned his face. What she saw there was determination. It made her realize that for the past five years, she’d been so selfish. Not once had she thought about who had killed her sister and gotten away with it. Instead, she’d only been focused on her own suffering, her loss of Gina.
Straightening her shoulders, she nodded. “How do you intend on catching a murderer?” she asked.
“Well, to catch a fish, you use bait,” he answered as he ran his hands over her arms. “I’m going to hate it, but I’m going to deliver you home, then appear to disappear from your life.”
She frowned. “This isn’t just your way of getting me off your hands is it?” she asked, earning a chuckle from him.
“If I wanted you out of my life, I never would have introduced you to my family.” He smiled. “You’re stuck like a fly in molasses now.”
She smiled. “I’m assuming your family is the molasses?”
“Yeah.” He bent down and kissed her. “Sorry, I should have warned you. The Graytons suck in lost souls and spit out happy families.”
She liked the sound of that, being part of his family. Glancing back towards the lighted house, where laughter could be heard echoing over the field, she could just imagine returning. Actually, she could imagine staying here forever, but since she didn’t want to freak Reagan out, she kept that to herself and leaned up and kissed him instead.
The following morning, they climbed into his truck and made their way towards the airport. He’d booked their flights last night as she slept beside him, sated from a happy day, great conversation, a good meal, and easily the best sex she’d had in her life.
She was nervous on the flight across the States. They had a long layover in Atlanta and spent almost three hours walking around the massive airport. When they finally jumped onto their plane to Denver, she was exhausted and slept until they landed. They had to run to their connecting flight and made it just in time.
On the last flight, she was too nervous to sleep and kept glancing at her watch as they moved across time zones, getting them closer and closer to her home. No, she corrected her thoughts, what used to be her home. She could no longer imagine a life in California.
