by Zoe Dawson
I rested my hand at her waist. “Why did you lie for me, Aubree?”
She closed her eyes tightly, her voice fierce. “Because you deserve to have someone on your side. Because you saved me! Because you were there that night when no one else was. And, Booker,” she snuggled closer to me. “Because even though that was one of the worst days of my life, I’ve only now discovered what I didn’t realize then. I wasn’t alone. It finally registered and hit home. I’m not alone.”
“No, you’re not alone.”
“I was terrified you would be implicated. I couldn’t bear for you to have to endure more hurt and pain from this town than you’ve already had to endure. I’ve got to tell you everything Booker, because I can’t keep any more secrets from you. I have two left. Would you please sit down?”
I folded down onto the bench and turned toward her as she sat and turned toward me. “My car didn’t break down that night, because I was always vigilant about it.”
“No,” I said. It was what I had suspected. Damien had been stalking her. Guilt tore at me. I should have known.
“Don’t give me that look, Booker. It wasn’t your fault. Damien Langston sabotaged my car. He must have been following me. I loved taking that shortcut home, loved the Magnolias that lined the road. The beautiful, rich fragrance of those white flowers in the spring. He grabbed me as soon as I got out and snatched my cell and threw it back into the car. Then he dragged me to the base of one of those magnificent Magnolias. He knew you had won. He didn’t know how, but after what I saw behind the bleachers, I couldn’t ever be ignorant about how you felt about me and what you had done for me. It changed me, and he knew.”
“How?”
“Because he told me.” She stared into my eyes, the raw emotion making her expression stark. She held my gaze for a long time, the muscles in her throat contracting. She let out an unsteady breath and said, “He told me that he’d seen that I was stupid enough to get soft on you.” She curled her hands into the fabric of my t-shirt. “He said he was going to get there first, even if he had to force me. He told me that you would know that he had fucked me first. He told me not to fight, but I did. I fought so hard. He was as shocked as I was to hear you shout his name like you were going to kill him.”
I grabbed the back of her neck, tense beneath my fingers and I massaged the muscles. “I would have. I went insane when I saw him on top of you and you crying and fighting like a wild animal.” My chest tightened at the memory. “It was only pure luck that I had been frogging over there that day because you have the best bullfrogs.”
Her eyes bleak, she whispered, “I think he meant to kill me in the road, in the dust, while you were too far away to stop him. I saw it in his eyes. But you distracted him, bearing down on him like a wolf out for blood. I struggled with him and the knife fumbled out of his hand.” Her voiced hitched and her hands tightened in the cotton. “He grabbed for it at the same time I did. I missed, and he grabbed it by the hilt, except the blade got turned around in our struggle. That’s when you got there, and when you jumped on him, it shoved the knife through his breastbone and into his heart. When his hand fell off the knife, I grabbed the hilt. I told you I had killed him. I lied. I didn’t want you to know that you had caused it.”
The wonder of having Aubree Walker hide such a terrible thing from me for my sake swamped me with so much love for her, I could hardly breathe. When the tightness in my throat released, I asked, “Why, Aubree?”
She closed her eyes, smoothing her hands down my chest. “In case it ever came out that he was dead and they found his body.” Cupping my jaw, she titled her head and said with conviction strong in her voice. “I know you would have confessed to doing it. Between your reputation and his father’s power and money, I knew you couldn’t win, even if I said it had been to protect me. But I had a chance to get through it without going to jail.”
The pain of what I had to do now was almost unbearable. “Aubree. I will admit that part of my problem was that I idealized you. I put you up on a pedestal without thinking about you as a real person. It wasn’t until we started spending more time together that I realized that. But it also reinforced what I always knew.” Even though it hurt my shoulder, I cupped her face with both of my hands, looking deeply into her eyes, my heart breaking. “You are a forever type of girl, and you need someone who’s going to be there for you.”
The look on her face was worse than I had anticipated and I had to clamp my lips together for a moment to keep my emotions tightly under control.
“What are you talking about? You have been there for me. You’re just afraid of making a commitment.”
I pressed my forehead against hers. “It’s not that. I just feel that with my genes, it’s best for you. What I want doesn’t matter.”
She cupped my face in her hands, her hold tight. “You think you’re going to be like your father? Is that it?”
“Yes,”
She shook her head slightly. “You already broke that mold. You’ve never let me down—ever—Booker.”
“My brothers told me you found out that Lottie is your real mother, and she’s marrying the sheriff, so you’ll have a solid family to support you. You won’t be alone anymore. And, I heard you were going back to Tulane. I think it’s a good idea.”
She shook her head, again but I stood and walked away. Out around the house and to my car. With my hand on the door flap, I hesitated. Brax’s words came at me out of my subconscious like a dagger. I was already doing it. Walking away from her when we had something amazing together. And, damn Brax and Boone to hell, they were right. I was afraid, terrified that she would be the one to walk, so I was walking first. Bury the pain, keep it surface.
It sucks to act like a grownup.
But we had so many possibilities. If I had the courage to find out.
And I hadn’t allowed her to tell me everything. She still had one more secret.
And once again, there was just no getting around it.
That. Girl. Just. Got. To. Me.
My chest tightened, and I let go of the door handle and broke into a run.
#
Aubree
I sat there, devastated. Crushed by my own hope. But instead of spiraling into despair, I rose from the bench and sprinted for the edge of the house. I wasn’t done! I hadn’t told him everything yet. I hadn’t even told him the most important part. I would finish it.
I hit something hard and bounced onto the grass. When I looked up, it was Booker.
“Aubree. I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
He knelt down and I pushed up into a sitting position.
“I still have one more secret.”
“You had one more secret.”
We spoke at the same time. Then we just stared at each other, and something profound and electric passed between us.
“I love you, Booker. I fell in love with you that day when I stood behind the bleachers with my momma’s bracelet clutched in my hand. For all that you had done for me and for what I failed to do for you. Because I had to be perfect, and I chose that instead, I don’t deserve you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face against his throat. “After Damien died, I took advantage of you, your feelings for me, and your silence. I ran away because here in Suttontowne I wasn’t perfect anymore, and I didn’t know how you felt about that. But I betrayed you. Just like I did when I hid instead of coming forward to wipe that smirk off Damien’s face.
He pulled me away so that he could look into my eyes and I saw what I was hoping to see. My heart soared, breaking free. I continued bolstered by the look in his eyes. “I want to make it clear to you that I know I was wrong in not talking to you.” I had to pause the flood of words and feelings to catch my breath. “I’ve never trusted anyone like that, not my mother, not my real momma, not even River Pearl or Verity. No one. There was only you and what you had done for me all those years. You stood by me, in silence, with no hope of reward or acknowledgement. You were more special than I
deserved. I felt flawed and broken and ugly, so much so that I couldn’t see past that, and in my deepest and darkest despair, I couldn’t understand how you could see past it.”
He smiled, his eyes going soft and tender and I almost cried because I had wanted him to look at me like that for so long.
“How could I see past it? There isn’t anything to see past. I love you, Aubree. I didn’t really know you before…only in my dreams. But you’re real, gorgeous and complex. And I need you.”
I watched his face, saw the way his jaw hardened against some unpleasant memory, saw the anger in his blue eyes and the vulnerability that lay beneath it, and my heart ached for him.
“Regardless of that lame excuse you gave me about being afraid that you would leave me, I don’t buy it.”
“My father….”
“Isn’t you.”
His chest heaved.
“My mother said you were good for me,” he admitted.
“She’s a smart, resourceful woman who put up with three hell-raisers. I’d listen to her, if I were you.”
He closed his eyes took a few breaths. “You don’t pull any punches, Aubree.”
“I can’t afford to right now, Booker. I can’t…won’t lose you. I want more,” I admitted. “If that makes me a fool, then I’m a fool. If it makes me weak, then I’m weak. It’s the truth. Too much of my life has been wasted on secrets.”
He looked down at me, meeting my gaze with his intent one. He pressed his lips into a thin line. He blinked at the moisture in his eyes.
I reached up into the silk of his hair, thinking how unique and special he was, even with two carbon copies running around the bayou. But there was only one Booker Thomas Outlaw, and he was mine.
“We’ll work it out as we go. Does that sound okay?”
“Huh,” he said, his eyes going slumberous, his mouth softening.“I always knew you were a belle all the way, but there was just a hint of sultry in your Southern that made me wonder…no, hope…that there was a tiny bit of bad girl in there somewhere.”
“You, Booker, are Outlaw through and through.”
“That is for certain, sugar. Wanna getcha some?”
I laughed as he captured my lips, in the sun, in my momma’s yard.
Epilogue
Aubree
I stood in front of the altar as Boone sang “When a Man Loves a Woman.” Braxton’s accompaniment on the fiddle was heart-wrenchingly beautiful. Each pew had a white ribbon on it with baby’s breath. Boone’s rich, smoky voice echoed off the stunning stained glass windows.
I smiled at Verity and River Pearl while everyone turned toward the back of the church. My momma looked amazing in the gown that Verity had designed and made for her, and she hung onto Booker’s arm as they slow-stepped down the aisle.
He gave me one of those wicked grins, looking so sexy in his tux. He’d even gotten a haircut.
Sheriff Mike Dalton beamed so hard I thought he was going to bust. He reached out and took my momma’s hand as Booker went to stand across from me. How we’d put together a wedding in two weeks was nothing short of a miracle.
Since the Outlaws were involved, we didn’t have as many guests as we’d thought we would, but my momma didn’t care about that. The people she cared about the most were here.
The music came to an end, and Mike and Momma turned toward the preacher. She reached out and squeezed my hand.
As Verity’s father started to say their wedding vows, I met Booker’s eyes. His gaze was hot and magnetic, sweet and tender. Through all that had happened, I’d grown up a little, learned a few things and found love, found it and intended for it to flourish.
Later, at the reception, while the DJ played a slow song, Booker and I danced under the awning in my momma’s back yard, just being together, thankful that our lives were now entwined.
A week later we found ourselves at Outlaw’s, where Braxton was hosting a huge barbeque. There was no way I was going to miss out on his pulled pork and his amazing barbeque sauce. When we arrived, Verity and River Pearl were already there. I felt so blessed to have so much in my life with my friends and Booker beside me.
Verity continued to give Boone nasty glances and I bided my time. She would tell me what was going on there eventually. It would be interesting to see how she handled her father and her aspirations. River Pearl continued to goad Braxton. Something was building there, too. It was only a matter of when it would explode between them. Yes, both of my friends had their own perfect journey to experience. All and all, it should provide a very interesting rest of the summer. I had decided to stay and enjoy myself before I had to return to the demands of school.
I bit into the pulled pork sandwich, and turned to Brax. “You’re going to make someone a great wife someday.”
Brax smiled with a knowing grin that was almost as good as Booker’s. “I have the frilly pink apron to prove it,” he said.
Booker blew beer through his nose, coughing and laughing, and I looked at Boone for a translation.
He said, “Don’t ask. Believe me. You don’t want to know.”
Afterwards, the Outlaws took the stage and they showed us a rip-roaring, sweaty, toe-tapping good time. Their three-part harmony told me how in tune these brothers were. At the end of the evening, Booker said, “Sugar, this one is for you. Only you.”
His voice smooth and gorgeous belted out “I’ll Be” totally without music. As he sang, he left the stage and walked down to stand in front of me. One of the unholy trinity, sexy, tough, talented—and all mine.
The rough timber of his voice, filled with so much emotion, touched me deeply. As he sang about being my crying shoulder, I remembered how he had comforted me in my momma’s guest room. The heat of him and the safe haven I’d found in his arms. That was us, unembellished, simple. We didn’t need the music to make music. We saw each other’s souls and recognized them as flawed and beautiful…and perfect. When he sang and asked me to tell him we’d always be together, I smiled and cupped his face, his eyes shining into mine, already knowing the answer. He hit the chorus and when he sang he’d be my greatest fan, I saw the conviction in his eyes.
And later, back at Booker’s place, where I was officially staying, he groaned as he half lifted me, moving me across his lap on the bed in his room, his mouth sliding to my neck, where he licked my skin, then glided back to my mouth, sucking. It was the hottest, sweetest sensation, having him practically devour me.
My mind reeled with pleasure, my body’s most intimate secrets his. The idea thrilled me. I tangled my fingers in the black silk of his hair, my body melting into his kisses, his touches, his possession of me.
Booker pressed me down, reared over me and took me, touching off a powerful release. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me to him, holding himself still while my muscles tightened around him with powerful, throbbing bursts.
As the pulses eased, he moved slowly, pushed me toward yet another peak. He kissed me softly, tenderly. He pushed my hair back from my temples and smiled into my eyes.
I tried to smile back, my breath hitching in my throat at each deep, reaching stroke. I slid my hands down his back, over the hot, flexing, sweat-slick muscles. My hands curled over his butt as I urged him to increase his tempo until I was nearly frantic with the need for the release we achieved, one on the heels of another.
Afterwards we dozed, exhausted, replete. Booker settled on his side with one leg thrown across mine. I turned toward him and pressed my hand over his heart. He lifted his and touched my cheek, idly brushing back a strand of hair.
“So where do we go from here?” I asked.
“Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath.”
“Booker….”
He chuckled. “I’m already looking for an apartment in the city. We can live there while you go to school. I’m a writer. I can work anywhere. Hell, I might even take a class or two. And, we’re only two hours away from Suttontowne, so it’ll be very easy to visit when we can. How does that soun
d? ”
“Make it in the French Quarter and you have a deal.” I kissed the corner of his mouth and nuzzled my face against his.
“You’ll get fat on beignets.” He pinched the skin of my waist and I giggled.
“There’ll just be more of me to love. Think of the possibilities.”
He grinned. “Oh, sugar, I am.”
After a minute he said, “Aubree, it’s more than love.”
“It is?”
“Yes, you get to me. You always have.”
“I like that, Booker. What we share is so amazing.”
He pulled me against him, burying his face into the hollow of my neck and shoulder and blew a raspberry against my skin.
I giggled. “You do need me, you know,” I said.
He looked up at me. “Why is that?” he responded that wonderful, wicked Booker smile sliding across his face.
“You can’t even count to a gazillion, huckleberry, let alone two.”
***********
Don’t miss Verity Fairchild and Boone Outlaw’s romance. A Perfect Mistake, Book #2 – A preacher’s daughter, a reckless Outlaw, and a secret that will change her life forever.
Coming in 2013!
About the Author
Zoe Dawson is the alter ego of multi-published¸ bestselling author Karen Anders. Karen started her career because her grandmother gave her a book to read. That book made her fall in love with romance and started her on the trek to get published. She achieved that goal in 1996 with the publication of Jennifer's Outlaw for Silhouette. Even with many books under her belt, she can't wait for that next idea, that next exquisite sentence and, of course, the next hero and heroine who fall in love.
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