Stipulations and Complications

by Becki Willis

  “Okay, I guess I see the similarities,” Bethani said.

  “Wonder if our love circle will turn out the same way theirs did? Everyone liking the other one, all at different times. Your mom and Momma Matt dated for a while, my parents married for a while, and then everyone broke up.”

  “And then, eventually, your mom married Momma Matt. So she still got her happily-ever-after.”

  “Yeah, I know. So maybe I’ll get mine, too, with Russell. What do you think?” She smiled broadly, quite proud of her keen sense of deduction.

  “It could happen, I guess.”

  “Of course it could! Just like your mom can still have her happily-ever-after.”

  Bethani shook her head, a shadow of sadness falling across her face. “She had hers already. But it didn’t last ever-after.”

  “Not with your dad, I’m sorry to say,” Megan said, her tone gentle. Her voice brightened. “But it still could, with my dad!”

  “Your dad?” Bethani’s blond hair whipped through the air as she spun around to stare at her friend.

  “Yeah. Oh, come on, surely you’ve seen the way they look at each other! They are obviously into each other. Big time.”

  “My-My dad just died. My mom’s not ready to date again.”

  Megan saw the look on her friend’s face and knew to tread softly. “Maybe not right now,” she quickly amended. “But when she’s ready. You know, in a few months or so. But wouldn’t it be cool if they got together? I mean, we could wind up sisters!”

  Bethani stared at her blankly. “Sisters? You mean, like, if they got married?” Her voice was borderline hysterical.

  “Not-Not any time soon. Eventually. Like-Like a few years from now.”

  “I-I don’t know. I’m not sure my mother will ever get married again.” Bethani liked Mr. de, she really did. He was pretty cool for a policeman. He had been a famous football player back in the day and had gone on to coach at big name colleges. He doted on his daughter and he was nice to Bethani whenever she came to visit at his house. She had nothing against the man.

  As long as he doesn’t trample my dad’s memory. Her dad had only been gone five months. Not nearly enough for her mom to be interested in another man. Sure, her parents had fought a lot in the end. They had even had separate bedrooms. Bethani knew things hadn’t been right between her parents for a long time, but as long as he was alive, there was always hope they could get back together and they could be a happy family again. His death had changed all that, but she wasn’t about to dishonor his memory by accepting another man into her mother’s life. Not even if it was Brash deCordova, her new BFF’s own father.

  A terrible thought occurred to her. What if her mom had always been in love with Mr. de? What if she had never really loved her dad to begin with? What if Bethani’s whole life had been a lie?

  “Beth?” Megan asked in concern. “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”

  “It’s nothing,” Bethani lied. “I’m just tired.”

  Megan tossed her friend a chocolate bar. “Here, have some energy. You’re going to need it, if we stay up to watch the whole Hunger Games saga.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “This way,” Madison instructed as they stepped off the grand staircase. “It’s in the upstairs library.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Brash put a hand on her arm, his voice hushed with caution. He cocked his head to listen.

  A full ninety seconds ticked by. All Madison heard was an old house, settling in for the night. She watched his face for clues. What had he heard? Was someone in the house? And how was it possible that he had grown more handsome through the years?

  Brash wore maturity well. His athletic build was still finely honed and muscular. His shoulders had broadened with the years and his chest had thickened. His stomach was still flat, his legs long and lean. The fine lines that edged his soulful brown eyes hinted at life lessons learned. A few strands of silver wove through dark russet hair still thick and wavy. And Madison needed no reminder of how sensuous his mouth was, nor how devastating his smile could be.

  Madison blinked in dismay, appalled that she had allowed her imagination to run away with her. This was no time to be mooning over the man, even if he had fulfilled her teenage fantasy tonight. Kissing Brash had been everything she dreamed of, and so much more. But there were more important issues at hand.

  She saw the slight pucker of his brow. He was unsure as to what he did or did not hear. Another thirty seconds passed before he visibly shook off the concern. “I think it’s okay,” he said, but his words were still quiet. “Lead the way.”

  “I found several hidden niches in here,” she informed him, pushing a button on the light switch. It was an old-school variety, an antique replica of the home’s original push button switches. Home Again rewired the entire house and updated most of the switches, but in the formal rooms, Madison had chosen to remain historically accurate to the style of the day. “Including one niche that holds a gun.”

  Typical for a man, particularly one who worked with firearms and enjoyed hunting sports, Brash was as impressed with the old shotgun as he was with the hidden vaults. She almost had to pry him away to inspect the overhead cabinet in the alcove.

  “You’ll probably need a chair,” she advised. “You’re tall, but not quite tall enough to- Never mind.” Before she could finish her sentence, his nibble fingers found the latch to the cabinet and the door swung open.

  Brash gave a low whistle. “I think we hit pay dirt.”

  “We found them? They’re really there?”

  “Well, it has some sort of books, anyway. I’d say at least two dozen. The spines are leather, no titles. Looks like they could be journals.”

  “What are you waiting for? Get them down.”

  Brash hesitated, glancing around the room. “Are you sure there are no cameras in here? I ordered them all turned off, and we didn’t find any when we were in here, but I need to be certain.”

  “According to your friend Amanda” — even Madison could hear the slight sneer in her voice — “they add cameras on an as-need basis. They haven’t started on this room yet, so there’s no need for cameras.”

  “My friend?” he questioned, arching his trademark imperial brow.

  “You two seemed rather cozy the other day. And I heard you had supper with her a couple of weeks ago.” She hadn’t meant to bring it up, hadn’t meant for him to know she still had her doubts. A few kisses, no matter how perfect, could not erase years of insecurity. And a part of her kept thinking that ‘perfect’ was most always too good to be true. Certainly too good to last.

  “That’s right,” Brash acknowledged. “Both business related.”

  Madison shrugged, but the gesture fell short of indifference. “Like I said, your friend.”

  “It’s the way you said it.” He marched toward her, his words practically a growl. “Let’s get one thing straight, right now.”

  She expected a fiery speech. Indignation. She didn’t expect Brash to jerk out his arm and snag her in close. She didn’t expect his mouth to plunder hers, stealing her breath away with the intensity of his kiss. She didn’t expect her knees to buckle and her blood to catch fire. She didn’t expect to melt.

  He ended the kiss on an impossibly sweet note. His arms released her so that he could cup her face in the palms of his hands. He kissed her with exquisite tenderness.

  At last he lifted his lips from hers, still so close the air from his lungs whispered across her face. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Completely unraveled by his kiss, Madison could only nod.

  His thumbs traced the contour of her cheeks. Brown eyes stared into hazel. Breaths quickened. Eyelashes fluttered close.

  “Maddy,” he breathed into her eager mouth.

  “Brash,” she responded.

  The kiss heated, melding their bodies close. Just as his hand began a slow trail of exploration, a sound from downstairs interrupted their moment.

  Brash jerk
ed his head up, listening as a bumping noise came from below. He moved away so quickly that Madison swayed in surprise. By the time she got her equilibrium under control, he had opened the secret panel and pulled out the old shotgun.

  “Still loaded,” he confirmed, just before he thrust it into her arms. “If anyone other than me comes through those doors, pull the trigger.”

  “Where are you going?” she cried in alarm. He was already halfway across the room, headed to lock the door leading into the bedroom.

  Task completed, he quickly moved to the main entrance. “I’m going down. Keep the doors locked and don’t let anyone in but me.”

  “But—”

  “It will be okay, sweetheart.” His words were so full of strength, she almost believed them.

  “Be careful, Brash!”

  “I will be. And Maddy? If you have to use the gun, hold it tight against your shoulder. It’s going to kick like a mule.”

  ***

  It seemed he was gone forever. Madison held the gun at ready, until the weight of it became too much for her sagging muscles. She lowered it to her side but remained vigilant, alternately watching the doors for any sign of movement.

  The house was too quiet. Every little sound, no matter how innocent, made her jump. Was that the sound of footsteps on the stairs, or a clock ticking away each slow, agonizing moment? Was that a limb brushing against the window, or someone trying to pick the lock? Was that the sigh of an old foundation, or the sound of Brash lying hurt and broken at the hands of some unknown intruder?

  When she finally heard his voice, a tiny cry of relief escaped her lungs. She ran to the door and fumbled with the lock before she finally tugged it free.

  “Are you all right?” They barked the words simultaneously.

  “What was it?” Maddy asked. “Did you see anything?”

  Brash shook his head. When he stopped to shut and lock the door behind him, Madison knew they might still be in danger.

  “Brash?” Her voice was worried.

  “I didn’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t there. This is a big house. And we both know it’s filled with secret passages and plenty of places to hide.”

  “What are you doing? Why are you going to the bedroom?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Madison followed him to the door, watching as he crossed to the bed and pulled back the designer duvet. He shook two pillows free from their cases, and then deftly stripped the bed. He was back by her side in no time, arms full of linens, locking the door behind him.

  “We need to take the journals with us,” he explained. “But I’d rather not be seen carrying them out. So if anyone’s watching, all they’ll see is us carrying out dirty linens.”

  “Good thinking,” she murmured.

  His dark eyes twinkled with merriment. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “How can you joke around at a time like this?”

  He dropped a quick kiss onto the tip of her nose. “You’re just so cute when you’re worried.” As he situated the pillowcases to his liking on the floor, he chuckled over his shoulder. “Not so much when you make that face.”

  “You don’t have eyes in the back of your head.” To prove her point, she childishly stuck out her tongue to his turned back.

  “Sure I do. I’m a dad. Not to mention a lawman. And as fond as I am of your tongue, you might want to put it back in your delightful mouth.” He glanced over his shoulder to wag his brows suggestively. “Save it for later use.”

  “As many times as I’ve pulled that on my own kids, I guess I deserve it,” she grumbled. “Let me do that. You start handing down the books.”

  “Use both pillow cases. I don’t think I can carry them all at once.”

  “I’m not helpless, you know. I can carry one bundle.”

  “Fine. But make one smaller than the other.” Seeing the exasperation on her face, he grinned. “What? I was going to give you the bigger one.”

  They worked quickly, transferring the books from the upper cabinet to the linens on the floor.

  “This is them, Brash,” Madison said excitedly, but she kept her voice low. “These are old journals, written in her hand. I recognize the writing from old letters and papers I’ve seen.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high,” he warned. “They may not tell us anything.”

  “Maybe. But then again, they might explain it all. At least why she had all the secret passages.”

  “It’s going to take a while to go through all those,” he said, stepping off the chair with the final handful of books. “How many is this, twenty-five?”

  She took the books and placed them in the larger pile. “Twenty-six. Sixteen in that pile, ten in this.”

  “So each one must cover several years.”

  Maddy nodded. “That rose-colored one began in 1980. The last entry was dated ’83.”

  “I’m thinking we need the early journals. Probably those plain black ones. They look the oldest.”

  “I can’t wait to get them home and start reading.”

  “You can’t take these home with you, Madison.”

  “Why not?”

  “First of all, it’s too dangerous. Someone has been going to an awful lot of trouble to keep you from finding these. Imagine what they might do to keep you from actually reading them.”

  She bit her lip. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “And second, there are cameras at your house. Even if we manage to sneak these out, it wouldn’t remain a secret for long.”

  “So what do we do with them?”

  “We’ll take them to the station. If I’m hiring you to do some work for us, no one will question why you’re spending so much time there.”

  “Again, good thinking.”

  He flashed another charming grin. “Again, glad you approve.” A twinkle lit his eye. “Or, we could take them to my house. Give you a good excuse to be over there, too.”

  Even now, at this inopportune moment with danger lurking near, his smile did crazy things to her insides. “The station would be safer,” she muttered. “On all accounts.”

  “You’re mumbling beneath your breath.”

  “I said I think the station is the better choice.”

  “Unfortunately, I agree.”

  Madison hesitantly turned to face him. She nibbled on her lower lip without quite meeting his eyes.

  “Brash,” she began. “About tonight…”

  “Uh-oh. We haven’t even slept together, and here I am getting the morning-after speech.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked in annoyance.

  “Isn’t that what this is? You had a good time tonight, yada, yada. Picnic was fun, kisses were great, more yada, yada. But you don’t need any more complications in your life right now.” He crossed his arms and gave her a challenging glare. His jaw was set in a square of granite. “Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

  “No,” she said stubbornly. A few beats went by. “Maybe. But it’s not what you think.”

  “And what do I think, Madison?”

  “You think I still don’t trust you. That I’m still hung up on all my old issues and that they reflect directly on you. That’s what you told me before, isn’t it?” Her eyes lit with a challenge of their own.

  “I told you that your distrust reflects on me, on my integrity. I told you a relationship has to have trust and respect, or it has nothing. And I told you I don’t do halfway, Maddy. It’s all or nothing. You trust me or you don’t.”

  “I trust you, Brash.”

  “Maybe with your life, but what about with your heart?”

  She could hear the pain in his voice. His vulnerability touched her to the core. Stepping close to him, she put her hands upon his crossed arms. “Yes, Brash, I trust you with my heart. This isn’t about that. This is about privacy. About the cameras and the reporters and the way my life has become a public exploit. The truth is, I’m not ready for people to know about… about
us.”

  She felt his arms give. While she marveled at the sudden look of pleasure warming his dark gaze, his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her close. His smile was smug as he confirmed, “So you finally admit there is an us?”

  She answered cautiously. “I could deny it,” she said, picking at a button on his shirt. He stiffened at the words. With her own smug grin, she gazed up at him and her voice softened. “But we both know I’d be lying.”

  He tugged her a bit closer. “So where do we go from here?”

  “Picnics are good. There are no cameras at the ranch.”

  “So basically, we have to sneak around to see each other.”

  Her lips curled into an unhappy twist. “I’m afraid so.”

  “I don’t like it,” he claimed with a frown. “I’m not ashamed of us, Maddy.”

  “I’m not ashamed of us, either. It’s not about that. But can you imagine what the press would do with this story? How they would twist it around? I’m a widow, Brash. My husband just died five months ago. No one knows that our marriage died long before that. All they’ll talk about is how I’m already moving on. And look who I’m latching onto, the town’s most handsome and eligible bachelor. A former football giant and current chief of police, the man in charge of investigating the strange goings-on at my house. By the time they get through with it, they’ll make it sound like we’re both involved in some sort of shady venture to scam the public. Like we planted the skeleton and the ghosts, just so we could have the house remodeled as our little love shack.”

  “I make it a rule to never move in with a woman, at least not until our second date.”

  She swatted at his arm. “Would you stop joking around? This is serious!”

  “You’re blowing this all out of proportion, sweetheart.”

  “You don’t know what the press can be like, Brash.”

  “Actually, I do. I opted out of my contract with the NFL so I could come home and be a husband and father. Don’t you think the press had a field day with that one? I was head coach at Texas A&M during not one, but two losing seasons. I was coaching at Baylor when they had that big referee scandal. The press ripped me to shreds both times. But that’s nothing compared to what they like to do to police chiefs. Every time a crime is committed, every time an innocent person dies, the press makes it about the cops in charge, not the criminals. So, yeah, Maddy, I do know about the press.” His voice held a hard edge. It was a reminder that even though he often joked and teased, he was a dedicated officer of the law and a formidable adversary.