by Barb Han
She seemed to search his gaze and he knew what was coming next.
“Is this a good idea, Dawson?” she asked.
Looking into those eyes, he couldn’t imagine doing anything with her would be a bad idea. Bad timing? Now that was a thing.
If he’d met her two years ago or a year and a half ago, it would be so much easier to get lost in her. Now timing was a problem. He couldn’t go back and undo the past. Normally, he understood the value of life lessons and hard situations. He could appreciate how deep he had to reach and how much he had to grow when times were tough.
Selfishly, he wanted Summer. He wanted those bright violet eyes and sweet lips. He wanted to get lost and forget how complicated all of this was.
Dawson muttered a curse under his breath. Because timing.
“Probably not.” It was difficult to say that, considering their kiss brought him to life in places that had been dead too long. No one had caused that kind of reaction from him with something so simple before Summer. Timing.
“Then, we should probably put a stop to this.” The uncertainty in her voice made him want to convince her otherwise. It didn’t seem like it would take a whole lot and it definitely wouldn’t on his part.
Her body pressing against his wasn’t making it any easier to think straight. She had the kind of curves that made her feel like a real woman. Long legs, soft round bottom, she was perfect, sexy...
Dawson stopped himself right there. His arms still looped around her waist, he dipped his head down and feathered a kiss on her bottom lip. “I want to do this. I sure as hell don’t want to stop. But, the last thing I want to do is confuse the situation any more than we already have.”
Those words were a bad idea. He heard how they sounded coming out of his mouth and the hurt in her eyes compounded it. The thing was, he could see himself going there with her. He could easily see himself doing the get-to-know-her-better thing. He wanted to know all those little details about her that made up a relationship. Could he?
Could she? Could she stick around long enough to see if there was anything deeper than spark between them? Could she stay in one place long enough to figure out if this could ignite into a flame? See if there was any substance to turn initial attraction into something so much more?
There was nothing inside Dawson that wanted to jump into another serious relationship. He would doubt his own judgment every step of the way because of Autumn. She’d burned him enough to back away from the stove the second time.
An annoying voice in the back of his head told him he was making up excuses. Was he?
Hell, maybe he was the one who needed some distance. Nothing in his body or mind or heart wanted to take a step back from Summer. And that was dangerous under the circumstances.
He could make all the arguments he wanted to. The truth was that while he was standing toe to toe with Summer, he couldn’t force himself to be the one to step back. She would have to do it. And she did.
Which also told him she could.
If he was going to guard his heart, he was going to have to do a better job than that.
Turned out Summer Grayson was his weak spot. Dawson needed to get more control over his emotions. The phrase “get a grip” came to mind.
What he needed was to get a handle before this became a runaway train.
The first time he’d seen Summer opened up a sore wound. Although, to be honest, she had seemed different from Autumn from the moment he laid eyes on her. He’d noticed all those quirks that were uniquely hers. Her personality could not be more opposite her sister despite a likeness. And he stopped there at a resemblance.
Dawson couldn’t think of Autumn and Summer as identical because they were so different. Summer had that fresh-from-the-shower face. She looked like she ran a brush through her hair and let it flow.
Autumn, on the other hand, spent quite a bit of time in the bathroom tinkering around with her looks. Being around her triggered his protective instincts, but that wasn’t the same as love. She’d been helpless and he’d stepped in. To be fair, he’d always seen himself with an independent, spirited wife for the long haul. Someone who could challenge his thinking and yet be silly enough to laugh at herself because life was guaranteed to deliver some hard knocks.
Summer, on the other hand, was strong. Yes, vulnerable, too. There was a certain undeniable vulnerability about her, which wasn’t the same as helplessness. Summer was the roll-up-her-sleeves type. If something needed doing, she was going to do it. She was far from a helpless victim.
Her personality couldn’t have been more opposite from her sister’s. Summer was quick-witted and resourceful. She was beyond intelligent. And, man, did she possess a strength about her, a dignity that he’d rarely ever witnessed.
He had to fight every instinct that had him wanting, no needing, to be as close to her as he physically could. Summer just had that way about her. She was like the sun. He wanted to tilt his face toward it and take in its warmth.
Dawson reminded himself once again that Summer lived in Washington and he lived in Texas. Those were a lot of miles to cover. And that was the easiest part about a relationship between the two of them.
“Where to first?” Again, her voice traveled over him, bringing to life those places that had been dormant far too long.
“I’d like to interview Grover Hart first. See if he knew your sister beyond her locating him on the internet. Maybe he can give us some insight into where she hung out and what she did while she was in Austin.”
“It sounds like a good place to start.” She paused for a few seconds and he could almost see the wheels spinning in her brain. “Is there some way we could change the way I look? Is there something here like a scarf or maybe a ball cap that I can wear?”
“I’m already a few steps ahead of you on that one. I do have to get witnesses to safety from time to time so I keep a duffel bag full of supplies in the closet. We’ll be traveling during the day and it’s sunny, so I have a variety of sunglasses for you to choose from. I definitely have scarves and a few other things I think you might find helpful,” he said.
Dawson turned toward the front door and motioned to the closet. He also had to force his gaze away from her backside when she headed over to the closet.
Watching her walk away wasn’t going to do good things to Dawson. He was still kicking himself for not having a better answer when the two of them had been close. And he probably would be for a very long time if he let her get away.
Chapter Nine
Summer didn’t realize she was tapping her finger against the window on the passenger side of Dawson’s truck until he glanced over at her. His look was one of concern, not annoyance. She realized her nervous tick was in full swing.
She’d like to say her thoughts were consumed with what they were about to face in interviewing Grover Hart, the internet minister, but that wouldn’t exactly be true. Her thoughts kept winding back to the kiss she’d shared with Dawson in the kitchen and the way it held the kind of passion that had been missing in every kiss for her entire life.
Since that was about as productive as squeezing a turnip and expecting blood, she did her best to shove those thoughts aside.
Grover Hart lived far north of Austin in a small town called Bluff. His house sat on what looked like at least an acre of land, and mostly resembled a junkyard. There were tractor parts and what she assumed were truck parts littering the lawn. There was a couch that looked like an ’80s relic sitting next to the front porch steps of the small bungalow.
Dawson parked and kept the engine idling. He glanced over at Summer one more time, his gaze lingering a little bit longer this time.
“This should be interesting,” he said.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
On the east side of the house was a small white gazebo. There were fake flowers wound through the slats. She imagined this w
as a place Grover performed quick ceremonies. Her sister and Dawson had married on his family’s ranch. She shuddered, thinking about the kind of person who would be on the outskirts of town needing a quickie wedding in basically a junkyard. She also wondered how legal the nuptials would be. That was a whole different issue altogether.
“Guess we better do this.” Dawson shut off the engine and exited the driver’s seat. By the time he got around to the passenger side, she’d let herself out. There was a small look of disappointment in his eyes. Opening a door was still considered chivalrous in Texas.
They hadn’t made it more than a few steps when the front door to the small green-siding bungalow popped open. A man who looked to be in his late forties or early fifties bounded out the door. He had on a variety of brightly colored prints and a matching cloth headband tied around his head. His hand was extended in front of him. He had a tanned, weathered face and a gap-toothed smile.
Grover had the whole Keep Austin Weird vibe down pat. He also looked like a bona fide hippie and she half expected him to offer them something besides the usual water or alcohol fare.
“How can I help you?” He looked at Dawson and then her. There was no hint of recognition.
Summer realized she had on a scarf, a ball cap and sunglasses. Her hair was tucked inside the hat as best she could. She removed a few articles and studied the man for any hint of recognition.
“Beautiful day,” Dawson said, shaking Grover’s hand. Dawson was stalling for time, waiting to see if Grover recognized her or him.
He looked from Summer to Dawson and back again before throwing his hands out to the side. “Would you like a tour of the wedding gazebo?”
The man looked confused when neither one of them answered.
“You married us a while back,” Dawson began, and Grover really did seem caught off guard with the statement.
“Oh.” He seemed to be searching his memory, trying to find a match to the couple standing in front of him. “I’m real sorry. I hope everything is okay with the—”
“It’s all fine,” Dawson reassured. “I was just hoping you could remember talking to my wife when you set up the arrangements.”
Grover Hart seemed genuine enough, looking like he’d rather shoot the peace sign than anything else. He had flower child written all over him and she figured he was probably too high to remember much of anything most of the time.
“I could check my records if you’d like.” He shrugged. His bushy eyebrows knitted together. “Was there something specific you were hoping I’d remember about the day?”
“No, I just thought you might recognize me. That’s all,” Summer said, figuring this was a dead end.
Dawson seemed to reach the same conclusion when he stuck out his hand and plastered on a smile. “Nothing to worry about here. We were driving by and thought we’d stop in and check with you. She lost her favorite earring on the day of the wedding and hoped you might remember seeing it. Since you don’t, we’ll be on our way.”
Grover let out his breath like Dawson had just twisted a relief valve. She didn’t think Grover was up to anything, but he did seem genuinely disappointed that he couldn’t be of help.
“Thanks for trying,” Summer said as she turned and headed toward the truck. Once inside, she said, “It’s safe to say he didn’t know my sister from Adam.”
“I got the same impression.” Dawson drove down the gravel lane, to the farm road leading to the highway. “Maybe we’ll have better luck at the coffee shop.”
She hoped.
The rest of the drive was quiet, save for the horns honking and general congestion of Austin where the term rush hour implied traffic actually let up at some point.
Using the map feature on her phone, it was easy to find Capital Coffee and not so easy to navigate downtown traffic, especially in a vehicle that took up much of the road.
By some miracle, Dawson found parking. The coffee shop was half a block away. It was midafternoon on a sunny day. Temperatures hovered around the midseventies.
He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. His touch reassured her as she walked the downtown street with her glasses, hat and scarf. It was crazy to think Autumn had walked this same path countless times on her way to her favorite coffee shop.
It was reaching for another miracle that any of the employees would remember Autumn. Turnover in a coffee shop in a town with mostly college students had to be off the charts. Then again, maybe a good job with decent tips was hard to find.
For whatever reason, Autumn had come back to Austin after leaving Dawson. Summer could only think of one reason why her sister would do that...a man. Charley? Autumn was never the type to be alone and the divorce papers had Austin as the address of the ‘lawyer.’ She hated it and moved from relationship to relationship. Summer had hoped the marriage would stick, but now that she knew the details, she realized how naive she’d been to think her sister would’ve settled down.
Again, Summer was struck by how crazy her sister’s actions had become over the past few years. She’d been straight-up crazy to leave Dawson. He was literally the perfect man.
Had she gotten herself into some kind of trouble? Autumn might have been lost and unpredictable but she’d never been one to break the law. Evidence would say otherwise, but Summer still knew her sister deep down. Autumn wasn’t capable of doing much more than her little white lies.
A thought struck. How well could she say that she knew her sister? She was still scratching her head over Autumn leaving Dawson. Granted, her sister had built a mountain of lies—a mountain that she had to know would come tumbling down eventually.
She tugged at Dawson’s hand for him to stop walking as she surveyed the street. “My sister had to know her lies would eventually catch up to her.”
“It’s possible they already were,” he said, and she was already nodding. She’d been thinking the exact same thing.
Again, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what her sister had to lie about. “I’ve been thinking about what happens when people get married.”
“Aside from the obvious part where they spend the rest of their lives together?” he asked.
“I’m thinking on a more practical level. The first thing people have to decide is whether or not to change their last names.”
“Autumn was insistent on taking my name—”
He stopped cold.
“But she really wasn’t. She only wanted people to think she was Autumn O’Connor.”
Dawson was already nodding his head. “She wouldn’t have to tell people her real last name if I believed we were really married.”
“And we already know that the ranch is a safe haven. There’s more security there than at the average bank.” She didn’t say Fort Knox even though she thought it.
“She never wanted to leave the property. A lot more makes sense about how squirrely she got when I tried to get her more involved in the plans to build. She kept saying that was my part. She only cared about the decorating.”
“She might have been avoiding it because she had no plans to move into the house, after all.”
“My thought exactly.” There was no hint of regret in Dawson’s voice. He spoke matter-of-factly about his past relationship with Autumn.
The realization gave her the sensation of a dozen butterflies releasing in her stomach.
* * *
“THIS EXPLAINS A LOT about her behavior.” Dawson remembered how reluctant Autumn had been to commit to anything that had to do with the house or their future. At the time, he’d assumed her sadness about losing the baby was the cause. Now he realized she had been wriggling out of making those commitments possibly because she didn’t want to stick him with her choices and her taste.
The strangest thing about the whole situation was that he would’ve done anything in his power to help her if she’d just aske
d. She didn’t have to go through a fake pregnancy and a fake wedding to get him on her side. That was just how Dawson was made.
But it did make him think that she must not have felt like she had another choice. Her lies stacked on top of lies. He was one hundred percent certain that he wasn’t the only person she’d been lying to. Or rather, in the other case, lying to get away from.
Signs pointed to her doing something against the law or...
Dawson had come across plenty of types of liars in the course of his career. Most of the time, people lied to save their own behinds. Other times, they did so in order to save someone else’s behind. He had to wonder which way it went with Autumn.
“Who am I looking for once we get inside the coffee shop?” Dawson motioned a few storefronts ahead where the sign read Capital Coffee.
“The guy at the coffee shop is tall and skinny. He has long, brown wavy hair that is usually pulled up in a man bun. He looks more like a local than a student to me. He seems to always have a red bandana tucked in the back pocket of his jeans that I don’t think he ever uses.” Summer’s grip around Dawson’s hand tightened as she gave the description.
Dawson hoped like hell this would be a lead. Otherwise, they’d driven a heck of a long way for nothing. He scanned the crowded sidewalk to see if anyone looked twice at Summer. They were at a distinct disadvantage considering this had been Autumn’s stomping ground.
Summer might not realize who she was looking at and she could be staring into the eyes of her sister’s killer. The worst part was that someone could mistake Summer for Autumn, just like what had happened the other day.
It had only been a few days, but they didn’t seem any closer to figuring out who killed Autumn. He didn’t have to remind his brother or anyone in law enforcement to keep the news of Autumn’s death quiet, but he’d done it anyway.
Summer took the first step toward the coffee shop and Dawson kept hold of her hand. He also realized he’d know immediately if she recognized one of the men from yesterday based on involuntary muscle spasms. Her grip would tighten on his hand. He would have a couple extra seconds of warning with physical contact that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.