by Darcy Burke
“Which is why I call bullshit on that line you just tried to feed us. Even if you had done that—and I don’t think you did—you’d never say so.”
Jamie snorted. “And yet you both still ask.”
“Oh, like you haven’t teased us about women,” Luke said.
He flashed them a smile. “It’s a younger brother thing.”
Cam rolled his eyes. “Well, I think you should ask Crystal out. Seemed like you guys maybe had some chemistry. She’s great.”
“Can’t disagree with you there,” Jamie said. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, he liked her. They’d had a good time together. Which was why he’d texted her—to see if they could do it again.
“Kelsey thinks you should too—if you’re gathering opinions.”
Like they mattered. The only one that counted was Crystal’s, and so far she’d sent her message loud and clear: not interested. “I’m actually not, but thanks.”
“I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but a relationship might do you good.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Jamie shook his head. “I never thought you’d be the one to say that either.” Cam had been a player for years after his girlfriend had dumped him just before he’d proposed. She’d been cheating on him for months and had married the other guy instead. Jamie knew what it felt like to be dumped—not that his brothers were aware of that. “What’s wrong with me that I need a relationship?”
“Nothing,” Cam said.
Jamie narrowed his eyes at Cam. “But you said it would do me good. I took that as an implication that things aren’t good.”
“Don’t overthink it,” Luke said. “I think Cam and I are maybe just trying to share the contentment we’ve found. But really, it’s none of our business.” He slapped Cam’s knee. “Come on, let’s leave him alone to crunch numbers.”
Cam stood. “I still think you should ask her out.”
Luke rose and pulled Cam toward the door. “Leave it.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” Jamie called after them as they left.
Cam had partially closed the door, leaving it the way he’d found it. Jamie stared straight ahead, thinking about what Cam had said, that a relationship would be good for him. He didn’t agree, at least not in the serious, long-term sense. He’d tried that once with great failure.
He’d met Sadie in London. She’d been gorgeous, vivacious, and totally out of his league. Her father had been a knight, for crying out loud. But he’d fallen hard and fast, and for six glorious months, they’d spent every possible moment together. Then she’d taken him home to meet her parents.
Sir Geoffrey hadn’t liked Jamie. One would have thought Jamie’s brilliance and his pursuit of dual master’s degrees at the London School of Economics would’ve impressed him, but no. Jamie was American, had no fortune, and he was…odd. Or so Sadie had told him when she’d explained why she had to break up with him. That they’d loved each other hadn’t mattered. In retrospect, Jamie was pretty sure she hadn’t loved him at all. He, on the other hand, had been completely smitten.
He blinked and dropped his chin, shaking his head to clear the dismal thoughts. Best to leave them where they belonged—in the past.
His phone vibrated on his desk, drawing his attention. But the text on the screen wasn’t from Crystal. It was a reminder about the service appointment for his car the following day.
He rested his elbow on his desk and rubbed his fingertips along his forehead. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t want a relationship.
No, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to get laid again. And he did like Crystal. Besides, she was the perfect person to see on a casual basis. She didn’t even live here.
None of that mattered, however. She didn’t seem the least bit interested in pursuing anything past their wild New Year’s Eve. Which was okay. It was a fantastic memory, and Jamie had learned to keep himself quite warm with those.
Things were far easier that way.
4
Crystal doffed her coat and hung it on the hook on the side of the booth before sliding into the seat at The Arch and Vine in downtown Ribbon Ridge. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck in traffic coming from Newberg.”
Alaina, who was next to her on the bench, turned her head. “What were you doing there?”
“I needed to get a prescription filled, Miss Nosy, and that’s the closest Walgreen’s.” She blew a kiss at her bestie and looked over at Kelsey and Brooke on the other side of the booth. “What’d I miss?”
Brooke tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “Not much. We were just speculating on what might’ve happened with Jamie after we left on New Year’s Eve.”
The server, a young guy with a pierced eyebrow and several tattoos and a wicked sense of humor, brought a pitcher with three glasses plus a sparkling water for Alaina.
“Thanks, Duke,” Alaina said, looking wistfully at the hard cider she couldn’t drink since she was pregnant.
“I’ve got buffalo tots on the way. You gals ready to order?” he asked.
They all put in their orders while Crystal poured the cider, then Duke left.
Alaina sipped her sparkling water and looked askance at Crystal. “So what did I miss on New Year’s Eve? You stayed there with Jamie Westcott?”
Crystal’s insides instantly heated and twisted as she sought to keep those lurid memories at bay lest she reveal anything. She shrugged, hoping her expression was as cool and aloof as she intended. “We hung out for a bit.”
Kelsey and Brooke both stared at her as if they didn’t buy it. Shit.
“What she’s leaving out,” Brooke said, “is that we all played pool—with Sean and Tori. Crystal kicked everyone’s ass.”
“With The Humiliator, no less,” Kelsey interjected.
Alaina’s brows rose. “Wow.”
Crystal pressed her lips together, still feeling protective about her new pool cue. “His name is Hugh now.”
Alaina’s eyes lit with mirth. “I see,” she murmured.
“It was awesome,” Brooke said, smiling. “Anyway, there seemed to be this undercurrent between her and Jamie.”
Hell’s bells. Crystal searched for a decent excuse. Or defense. Or whatever. “That’s just because we were the only single people there.”
“That’s true,” Kelsey said.
Alaina waved her hand. “Eh, Crystal’s at a lot of parties with a lot of single people, and I don’t necessarily get a vibe. Were they flirting?”
“Seemed like it,” Brooke said. She smiled at Crystal, but it faded as she perhaps realized Crystal didn’t look enthused about this conversation.
For crying out loud, if she acted like this was a problem, Alaina would just read more into it. “We probably did flirt a bit,” Crystal said. “Like I said, we were the only single people there, and we were drinking.” She summoned a smile and a little laugh for good measure.
“Speak of the devil,” Alaina said, nodding toward the door. “Look who just came in.”
Crystal darted her gaze in that direction as both Brooke and Kelsey turned their heads.
Jamie walked toward the bar and exchanged words with George, the bartender. He wore a dark wool peacoat, which he shrugged out of and hung on a hook on the corner of the bar before taking a stool at the bar. A burgundy V-neck sweater hugged his shoulders and reminded Crystal of his amazing biceps. Had she really looked for a measuring tape the other night so that she could find their circumference?
She jerked her attention away from him before she exposed what had really happened. Which was stupid. Her friends would never be able to glean the reality from her facial expression, even if she drooled while looking at him.
And if she thought about that night, about him, for too long, that just might happen.
Luckily, she had just the subject to distract all of them for a good while. After taking a long drink of cider, she smacked the glass back on the table. “Wait until you hear about my meeting with Darryl today.”
Kelsey curl
ed her hands around her glass as her eyes grew animated. “Right, I forgot you were seeing him today. Do tell!”
“Hold on to your hats, because this is crazy.” Relieved her now-rapt audience had abandoned their former topic, Crystal launched into a retelling of everything she’d learned. With each revelation, everyone’s eyes widened a bit more.
Finally, Kelsey held up her hand. “This is batshit insane. The KKK?”
Crystal nodded. “Yep.”
Brooke shook her head. “Whoa. I’ve heard about the KKK in Oregon—there was a pretty big presence in southern Oregon in the 1920s, if memory serves.” She was from that area. “But I didn’t realize it was here too.”
Crystal pressed her shoulders against the wooden back of the booth. “Apparently it was everywhere in that time period—Oregon had the largest KKK presence west of the Mississippi.”
“That’s horrifying,” Kelsey said.
“But whatever was going on around the turn of the century was likely on a smaller scale. Darryl was surprised to find it and is doing more research. Obviously, we want to be able to definitively say whether the group was responsible for the fire at Bird’s Nest Ranch.”
“Bastards,” Brooke muttered.
“And the leader of the group was actually mayor of Ribbon Ridge at some point?” Alaina asked. “Damn, that’s a story if ever I’ve heard one. You going to write this, Crystal?”
Crystal had expected her to ask, but she still didn’t have a solid answer. “I don’t know. It is an intriguing story.”
Alaina gave her a long, probing look. “I can hear the hesitation in your voice. You can do this. You should do this.”
“I agree,” Brooke said. “When I think of Dorinda struggling with her husband, him dying, her opening a brothel which burned down—” Her eyes widened. “If the KKK set that fire, they probably murdered Dorinda.”
That was the part that bothered Crystal most, of course. She felt a connection to Dorinda for some inexplicable reason, even though she barely knew anything about the woman. Somehow Crystal just knew her story should be told. Maybe she had her answer after all. “Yes. And people should know.”
Kelsey sipped her cider. “I don’t disagree, but what a horrible event to publicize about Ribbon Ridge.”
“Good point,” Brooke said.
Irritation climbed Crystal’s spine. “Are you saying we should just ignore that it happened?”
Kelsey reacted instantly, her head shaking and her eyes widening. “Hell no. You better believe I’m going to include this in the history project. History is history—and it isn’t all pretty.”
“True that,” Alaina said, raising her glass.
They all offered a silent toast.
“I have to say, I can actually see this as a movie,” Alaina said. “Obviously there’s a lot we don’t know, and I don’t want to sensationalize anything, but it seems like this part of Oregon’s history should be told.” She looked at Crystal. “Maybe this is why you’ve felt so passionate about Dorinda. Maybe this was meant to happen.”
Crystal resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Alaina was a great believer in fate and serendipity and all that nonsense. She always used their friendship as proof. Without one another, Alaina would likely be a drug addict like her mother, and Crystal would probably be married to her dealer. Yikes, that was a dark thought.
The buffalo tots arrived, and they all dug in. Brooke dipped a tot into the ranch dressing. “I could see this being a movie too. Does that mean you’ll produce it, Alaina?”
Crystal, pouring ketchup onto a small plate, became momentarily distracted by Brooke’s question and too much flowed out of the bottle. Oh well. She loved ketchup. It wasn’t like she wouldn’t use it all.
Alaina’s gaze strayed to the plate. “I don’t know. It’s Crystal’s project.”
Crystal sent her a grateful look. Kelsey had started all this with her history exhibit at the library, then they’d all jumped in to help. But it had been Crystal who’d really connected with Dorinda and had continued the research—with Darryl’s help, of course.
Brooke looked a little uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to suggest it wasn’t.” She sent Crystal an apologetic glance.
“It’s okay,” Crystal said. “It makes sense you would ask Alaina about producing. That is her job, after all. Well, one of them,” she added with a laugh.
“So what all do you know about this KKK group?” Alaina asked before popping a tater tot into her mouth.
“Not much. Just that the Grand Cyclops was mayor and then his son was mayor at the time of the fire at Bird’s Nest Ranch. And the group stretched as far as Lane County, which is where that letter originated.” Crystal had started her tale with the letter, as Darryl had done.
“Right, that Dell Beatty asshole,” Kelsey said. “What did you say the Grand Cyclops’s name was?”
Crystal wasn’t sure she’d said. “Redmond Stowe.”
Brooke, who’d been taking a drink of cider, started to choke. Beside her, Kelsey lightly hit her back. “You okay?” They exchanged concerned glances.
Nodding, Brooke took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Did you say Stowe?”
Crystal’s Spidey sense jerked to attention. “Yeah.”
Brooke and Kelsey looked at each other again, their eyes widening in concert.
“What?” Alaina said, sounding slightly alarmed, which was how Crystal felt.
It was Brooke who finally spoke. “Stowe is Cam’s—and Luke’s, obviously—mom’s family.”
Well, fuck all. Crystal’s gaze strayed to Jamie at the bar. He chose that moment to look in her direction too, and they locked eyes for a moment. The edge of his mouth tipped up. It wasn’t a smile but a hint of…something. Heat flooded her insides, and she forced herself to look away.
“Maybe they aren’t related,” Alaina said.
Brooke and Kelsey both stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head.
Alaina rushed to say, “No, seriously! Back in Blueville, there were two families named Dick—yeah, Dick. Anyway, they weren’t related at all. And Blueville’s about the same size, right, Crystal?”
Crystal had been listening to the conversation but her brain had lingered on Jamie. More accurately, on New Year’s Eve. The way his mouth had just curved. He’d done that several times, usually right before he did something particularly fantastic to her. Hell.
She shifted on the bench and took another drink of cider. A good, long drink. “Uh, yeah, Blueville’s about the same size.” Small and judgmental-sized.
Brooke and Kelsey exchanged looks again and shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible,” Kelsey said. “But I doubt it.”
Crystal realized she could settle this. “Darryl did find a Stowe in Ribbon Ridge—Randy. I don’t suppose that rings a bell?”
Both Kelsey and Brooke exhaled. “That’s their uncle,” Brooke said, sounding resigned. “Well, that sucks.”
“Do you think they don’t know?” Alaina asked.
Kelsey blinked. “No idea. Not that it’s ever come up. ‘Hey, have I ever told you that my family is descended from a KKK leader?’”
They all stared at each other. “Uh, yeah,” Crystal said. “Awk-waaaard.” She drew the last syllable out, and they all nodded in agreement.
Alaina sipped her sparkling water and looked at everyone, half wincing. “Still, we have to ask, right?”
Kelsey straightened, sitting taller. “I think so. I can do it.”
Crystal’s gaze drifted to Jamie again. He was drinking a beer and chatting with the bartender. Damn, he was sexy. And young. Too young.
Only five years—or so, her mind argued.
Gah, he’d been in middle school when she graduated high school. He’d barely been driving when she and Alaina had been partying in LA. He was still in his twenties, while Crystal…wasn’t.
And why was that a big deal?
Because Tommy had been a year younger than her. Younger meant immature and so many other things she didn’t want
to deal with.
“Actually, why don’t you let me handle it?” Crystal suggested, surprising herself. “It makes more sense for me to approach them. You’re both attached to that family now. I’m not. If they get upset or I piss them off by asking, no harm done.”
Kelsey tipped her head to the side. She didn’t look convinced. “But they know we’re all involved in this project. And they know I’m coordinating the history exhibit.”
“True, but let me break the bad news—if they don’t know, that is.”
Brooke nodded. “Okay. How do you plan to do it?”
Crystal slid a glance at Jamie. He was watching her again. Her body hummed with desire. Dammit. Maybe this was a bad idea.
No, she could do this without falling into bed with Jamie Westcott again. Not that doing so would be terrible…
Duke brought their dinners, and it was a few minutes before they got back to the conversation.
“So what’s your plan to find out about the Stowes?” Brooke asked.
Crystal had been thinking about it while they’d settled into their food. “Jamie and I hit it off the other night. I’ll talk to him first. Just leave it to me. I’m good with people, right, Alaina?” She smiled at her friend, who nodded.
“The best,” Alaina said. “It’s why I asked her to come to LA with me.”
That wasn’t true at all, but Crystal wouldn’t correct her. That would stay their secret.
Brooke looked over her shoulder toward the bar. “He’s still here. Are you going to talk to him tonight?”
“Might as well.” Or at least reestablish contact. Since she hadn’t replied to his texts, she ought to apologize—and not just because she was hoping to get information from him. In fact, she didn’t want to come off like she was only talking to him to find out about his family. Except she sort of was, wasn’t she? Hadn’t she planned to just play things cool in the event that she ran into him again before heading back to LA?
Yes, that had been her plan, but everyone knew what happened to the best-laid plans.
Best laid.
Her lips curved into a smirk as she recalled New Year’s Eve and the feel of Jamie’s rock-hard thighs between hers. Best laid indeed.