Blame It on Texas (17 page)

Ellen didn’t know if Noel had really told his wife; she hadn’t cared. What mattered was that he threatened to take her daughter away. She went to James with the problem. She thought if Noel used the pictures, James would stand beside her in court proving it hadn’t been a sleazy affair. Instead, James had been upset that she’d had an affair with a married man. Because his ex had cheated on him, he considered Ellen just as bad. It didn’t seem to matter that she hadn’t known Noel was married. James ended their relationship, and she went to see a family friend who was also a lawyer. He’d been brutally honest. If Noel hadn’t been a high-powered attorney, her friend could have guaranteed Ellen that the most Noel could get was joint custody. But with Noel’s power, money, and friends—friends who wore robes and sat on benches—anything was possible.

His threat and the possibility of losing Britney almost had her returning to Florida. But she had refused to abandon her parents. So she told herself that Noel hadn’t won. And for almost three years now, she’d lived her life without seeking his permission. However, whenever she found
herself tempted to rejoin the dating game, she’d remember how well her last two attempts had ended up and then realize that no man was worth the possibility of her losing Britney.

Lost in thought, she looked up and was startled to see Noel now standing outside her car; she got out to face him.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

“Helping a friend move,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“What do you have all over your clothes and face?” He frowned as if seeing her dirty disgusted him. Oh, how she wished he’d known her when she worked at her dad’s shop.

“I had a flat tire.”

He looked at the car. “Couldn’t you have gotten someone else to change it?”

I did.
“I managed.”

“Where’s Britney?” he asked.

“My parents took her to the beach.”

“You know I see her on Sundays.”

She glared at him. “You didn’t come the last two weeks. And she waited for you.” As much as Ellen secretly resented it, Britney loved Noel and the attention he gave her for those few hours a week.

“I couldn’t get away,” he said.

“Well, Britney wanted to go to the beach with her grandparents, and I couldn’t tell her no.”

“Don’t be a bitch,” he snapped.

“When it comes to Britney, I’m allowed. I don’t have to play fair.”

“Fair? You think this is fair to Britney?” He waved toward the house. “You could be living somewhere nice
instead of this slum if you’d let me help you. Let me get you a place in Houston. I could see you guys three times as much.”

“It’s called suburban middle-class.” She waved at the house. And I’ve already told you, put the money in a savings account and give it to her when she’s eighteen. And come back later if you want to see her.” She started for the front porch.

“It doesn’t have to be like this between us,” he called out. “We were good together once. It could be good again.”

“I don’t want your money.” She continued walking and muttered, “And I certainly don’t want you.”

Tyler’s grandfather believed he could predict an oncoming storm. Tyler may not know anything about the weather, but he could sense a woman’s scorn faster than anyone else. Probably a learned skill from living with three sisters. And from the way Zoe looked at him, his scorn meter was telling him to duck for cover.

“This is the safe house?” Zoe followed Tyler into the small kitchen the instant Nikki and Dallas had left.

So that was what this was about.

The four of them had spent the last hour visiting. Things had gone fine. But when he and Dallas had come inside from tossing the ball to Bud, Zoe’s mood had changed from tired to somehow ticked-off. And he hadn’t been completely sure why.

He nodded. “This is it.” He’d been thinking about coming clean about that and explaining his reasons for not being completely honest.

“Really?” Her tone, coupled with her body language,
warned him that it might be too late. She wasn’t happy. How did that translate for him? How did Zoe Adams deal with unhappiness?

“Yeah.” He opened the fridge and stared inside it, working on a game plan.

“But I thought…” She paused.

“Thought what?” He continued to stare at the mostly empty fridge. They were going to have to make a food run. His mind gravitated to any subject other than the one making him feel uncomfortable. He’d lied to her. Sort of. Not that he’d had much option at the time.

“Nikki and Dallas just moved out of here,” she said.

“Yes.” He glanced up and didn’t have a clue how to deal with her. She was an unknown to him. He’d never met anyone quite like her.

She stared at him. Her blue eyes tightened, giving her even more of that woman-scorned look.

“And I could swear something was said about you moving in.” Her tone was edgier now.

He ducked back down into the refrigerator and pulled out two beers. He held out one to her, hoping it might be viewed as a peace offering.

“No.”

That look in her eyes pulled at his conscience. He returned one of the bottles to the shelf and shut the door.

“You don’t have a safe house, do you?” she asked.

“More like a safe apartment.” He tossed a little humor at the situation, hoping that would soothe her. Then he faced her. She didn’t look soothed.

It was a stupid move, but he tried a change of subject. “We need to run to my place and pick up some pots and pans and stuff.”

She turned and hotfooted it out of the kitchen, leaving a wake of fury like only a pissed-off woman could leave.

Okay… so this was how Zoe dealt with anger. Running away wasn’t a good method.

It could be worse. She could be a screamer like Lola. Or a crier like Sam.

He debated the wisdom of letting her be alone and took a swig of beer. Then he remembered they’d left the apartment door open, hoping Lucky would venture in. The thought that she could be collecting her cat to leave had him tearing out of the kitchen. He shot into the living room and came to an awkward halt when he spotted her. Just sitting on the sofa—hands folded tightly in her lap.

He waited for her to look at him. She didn’t. The uncomfortable feeling in his chest grew. He’d dealt with and placated irate and scorned sisters most of his life; this should be a piece of cake.

It wasn’t.

It even felt different from his few arguments with Lisa. But why? He jotted that question in his memory bank and refocused on Zoe.

I know I lied to you,
he almost said, but decided the direct approach might be too much.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she snapped.

He opened his mouth to say something but didn’t know what he should say. Words came out before he had a chance to consider them. “Did you know tone can tell a person more than the words?”

She glanced at him, but didn’t speak.

His need to clarify surged forth. “You said ‘fine’ in an irritated tone. You’re either using Socratic irony or…”

“Socratic irony?” she asked.

“It means—”

“I know what it means. I wasn’t…” She shook her head. “Have you considered that maybe after realizing my entire freaking life has been a lie, I don’t appreciate it when someone else
lies
to me?”

Guilt settled in his chest. “I guess that could explain the tone, too.”

“I know you’re helping me.” She pressed her hands against the pink leather of the sofa. “But is it too much to ask that you not lie to me?”

He sat in the brown leather chair across from the sofa, rolled the cold beer in his hands, and tried to figure out how to deal with this. He decided on the truth. Risky, but he’d give it a shot.

“When I told you that we had a safe house, I was trying to placate you to agree to our help. You’re right—it was a bad judgment call. But it seemed like the only way to get you out of your apartment before whoever shot at you returned and tried again.”

“You suck at apologies.” She gripped her hands in her lap again.

He nodded. “I’ll concede that as well. When I’m nervous, I always overthink things and words escape the brain and hence… sucky apologies.”

She released her hands, a sign of a less hostile disposition.
Fast to anger, yet quick to forgive.
He stored that fact with the others he’d collected about the woman. Most of them involved paradoxes.

Stubborn, tenacious enough to go through somebody’s files, and yet considerate enough that she visited sick cats at a vet. Freaked at being shot at, but brave enough to put
herself in danger to protect someone else—even someone she barely knew. Worried about money, but willing to pay vet bills for a cat that wasn’t hers. Lived in a dump, but kept the worn and stained space spotless. Logical, but still emotional. (Of course, she was female, which made that almost understandable.) Intelligent enough to be anything she’d liked, but instead she taught kids the alphabet. Naturally classy, but not a hint of pretentiousness.

“What are you nervous about?” she asked.

The question upped his nervous quotient. He started to overthink his answer and then just spit it out. “I don’t want you upset at me.”

Her shoulders relaxed as if she’d lost more of her bad mood. “I’m not upset, I’m… Okay, I was upset.”

Her honestly appealed to him.

He saw her eyes grow moist, and she looked to be at her breaking point. Not that he blamed her. She’d had a ball-busting kind of day. He cautiously moved to the sofa and sat next to her.

She blinked. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“The apartment?” he asked, afraid she might insist on leaving.

“Texas.”

“You really can’t blame it on Texas.”

“I know.” Her voice trembled.

He felt that slight quiver in his gut.

She shifted in her seat. “Perhaps I should just forget all this and go back to Alabama.”

“You can’t do that because…” His reasoning didn’t make itself clear.

“You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube,” he said.

She looked at him.

He explained, “My sister says that all the time.”

“It’s a good analogy, but…”

“But… what?”

“But… I know I told you all this… I just hadn’t told anyone else.”

He knew she was referring to his friends and business partners. “You’re upset—”

“Not really upset, it’s just people are going to think I’m… crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“You did at first.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what people think. What matters is getting to the truth and making sure whoever is trying to hurt you is caught and stopped.” There. Those were the reasons she couldn’t leave Texas that he couldn’t think of earlier.

She shifted. Her leg brushed against his. “But I don’t want your friends to think…”

“My friends are the last people who would judge you. Nikki found her ex-husband’s body in the trunk of her car and was the prime suspect for his murder. Ellen got stabbed when the same person who took out Nikki’s ex mistook Ellen for Nikki. When Ellen was in the hospital, stoned out of her mind on painkillers, she propositioned every single guy who came into her room.”

When that didn’t seem enough to convince her, he continued, “Eddie Nance nearly went down for a robbery he didn’t commit. Tony and LeAnn were separated, and Tony came up with some ludicrous story about bedbugs taking over his apartment so he could move back in with her and win her back. Don’t even get me started about Nikki’s crazy grandmother and Dallas and Tony’s dad.
Point is, all of us have found ourselves in crazy situations. They aren’t going to judge you.”

She took a deep breath, and those wet, beautiful eyes looked up at him. Gone was the anger he’d spotted earlier, replaced by…

“Thank you,” she said. “You might suck at apologies, but you rock at pep talks.”

Something warm swelled inside his chest. “I’ll make sure to put that on my resume.”

“You do that,” she said. “I’ll even offer a reference if need be.”

Their gazes met, and all he could think about was kissing her.

Tasting her mouth.

Touching her.

The feel of her leg pressing against his felt nice. Really nice.

There were half a dozen logical reasons why kissing her wasn’t a good idea. She was too upset. It was too soon. She’d just gotten over being angry. She’d been shot. And…

He always listened to logic.

But not now.

He didn’t move. Except to shift closer. To lower his head. To dip his chin down a few inches.

He brushed his mouth against hers.

Slow.

Easy.

Giving her ample time to pull back. This had to be mutual. He knew that.

She didn’t pull back. It
was
mutual.

And he was so damn glad he hadn’t listened to logic.

She tasted like wine to his beer. Her lips were soft to his firm. She closed her eyes, and there was something so sexy watching her eyelids flutter closed. So sexy feeling her moist lips slip against his. So sexy when she tilted her face to the right so her mouth fit better against his.

He deepened the kiss, and her tongue swept against his, inviting him to move deeper. And there wasn’t a part of him that didn’t embrace the invitation. His body hummed with pleasure. His blood found its way down south at a very fast rate.

Any resemblance to logic evaporated in the heat of the moment.

Slipping one arm between her and the pink sofa, he drew her a bit closer. But he wanted more.

As if she’d read his mind, she swung around, sat on his lap with her knees straddling him. He moaned with pleasure when her sweet bottom pressed against the top of his thighs.

Her hand moved to his shoulders and pulled him closer. Closer was good. Her breasts came against his chest, and nothing had ever felt so right.

“Is anyone here?”

Austin’s voice sent Zoe and Tyler jerking apart, just like two kids who’d gotten busted making out on her parents’ sofa. She climbed off of him, fast, and landed on the very edge of the sofa cushion and slid off the pink leather. He wasn’t even sure she landed before she popped up and plopped her butt back down on the seat.