She Walks In Moonlight (Second Chances Romance Book 1)

by Jennifer Silverwood

  “You work here?” I blurted out again. Three heads turned to stare my way. I shook my head and pointed to Adam. His mouth turned down at the corners.

  It was a struggle to speak English suddenly. “I can’t believe you, after everything you said the other night. You work in my brother’s garage.” I turned on Peter. “And you!” I sputtered, unable to form coherent sentences anymore.

  Leach threw his hands up. “Well, I’m out.” He fled back into the garage with the newbs.

  Adam clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t drag your brother into this. He’s done nothing but help me since I got back. Is it so hard for you to believe there’s at least one decent person in your family?” His chest expanded as he inhaled and exhaled.

  “Don’t you dare try to tell me about my brother!” I wanted to sock him in the face, to grab his head and kiss that hard mouth soft. I was standing closer to him than I had been five seconds ago. Had he moved, or had I?

  Adam’s nose flared, and the light in his eyes danced with whatever insult he was itching to throw my way. I craved his words and the mutual urge we seemed to feel to rip and tear at each other. So it was probably best when Peter placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. It was the first time I realized how much smaller my brother looked. Or maybe it was Adam who had filled out and grown taller.

  “Head on into the garage. Leach can catch you up on today’s jobs.”

  Adam nodded. “Sure. Thanks, Peter.” His expression was as hard as stone, and I wanted to crack it with my fist, penetrate it with something, with anything. It wasn’t fair that he could keep his emotions in control while I was losing it.

  Peter stepped into my line of sight before I could speak my mind again. Unlike Adam, my brother’s face was an open book I knew too well. He waited until Adam left through the side door that went into the garage then said, “Sorry, baby girl.”

  “How could you lie to me? How long has Adam King been working for you? Maybe you could have mentioned it instead of treating me like a frigging pariah.”

  Peter shrugged. “I just figured it was under your ‘don’t talk about Adam King’ rule.”

  I wanted to growl and shout at him, but he was right, and he knew it. I sighed. “Yeah, I guess it did. We didn’t exactly redefine the rule when I came home. But it’s obvious I can’t avoid the Kings now that I’m back. I think it’s safe to say that rule no longer applies.”

  Peter nodded and smiled, the wrinkles in his brow smooth again. “Good.”

  I wrung my hands and wished I had a fraction of my brother’s coolness. “I just hate being blindsided like that. And you could have at least warned me he was working here. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so eager to hang around all day, you know?”

  I thought of Adam King not twenty feet away from me and suddenly felt helpless. Even though it wasn’t fair to Petey, I was still a little pissed.

  “I’m heading home. You’re right—I should have left already.” I grabbed my things and shoved them into my bag. Peter did the smart thing by letting me huff and puff. He knew I could never stay mad at him. I needed some space and maybe a long nap.

  I’d lied about the jetlag nap. I had traveled so much for so long, I was used to feeling endless exhaustion. Over the years, my coping choices came down to caffeine, nicotine, or pills. My healthier drug of choice was coffee. I made a fresh pot when I got home and tuned the stereo system to something loud and angry. After that, I cleaned. A cooking connoisseur I was not, but there was something satisfying about cleaning.

  Every speck of dust I wiped away was another problem solved, a small thing I could control. I took the anger I felt toward my brother and Adam King out on the kitchen tile.

  I didn’t notice the kids were home until a pair of dirty sneakers stepped into my peripheral vision. I shoved back the hair that had escaped my bandana band.

  Sasha had his arms crossed over his chest with a typical scowl, while Anya held her hands over her ears. “Aunt Dani! It’s too loud!”

  I jumped up and ran over to the living room to turn the stereo off. As I unplugged my phone, I saw a new message from Mrs. King. Supper was cooking already, she said, and she’d invited me to come as soon as I was ready. I shoved my phone in my pocket and rounded on my niece and nephew.

  “Hey, sorry about the noise. How was school?”

  Sasha sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”

  I sniffed. “Um… Mr. Clean?”

  Sasha threw his backpack on the kitchen table, and I tried not to cringe at the tracks his shoes made.

  “It smells funny,” Anya shouted.

  I laughed as I came over and pulled her hands away from her ears. “It smells clean, actually.”

  Sasha inspected the bucket of dirty water on the kitchen floor. “You cleaned? Why?”

  “You know, most people like a clean house. I didn’t think this would freak you out. Don’t you guys use a cleaning lady?”

  Sasha shook his head as he continued to inspect the house. “She doesn’t clean like this.”

  Anya smiled, the baby tooth gaps in her teeth prominent. “You should be our cleaning lady, Aunt Dani!”

  “Why not. I’ll charge your papa triple.”

  Peter came home soon after with the same sheepish look on his face I’d left him with. The kids swarmed him, and I used the opportunity to escape upstairs. I didn’t want to admit I was angry with my brother because I wasn’t quite ready to forgive him. Because I had to wonder, if Adam had been working for him all this time, what else did Peter know? And more unsettling, what did Adam know?

  Mrs. King had given me the perfect reason to leave.

  10

  Everything

  The Kings’ farm had been in the family for four generations. Each time it changed hands, the farm changed. What was once several hundred acres of tobacco fields had gone to cotton and then cattle. By the time Mr. King inherited the place, he had sold all but two hundred acres, and his cattle weren’t making the money he’d hoped they would. He left before he could teach Adam the family business firsthand. When we were little, my best friend had dreamed of bringing the farm back to life and buying back the pieces his father had sold. All Adam had ever wanted was to live an honest life, to be a family man. There was something unsettling about a kid who knew exactly what he wanted.

  Today, the old King place looked much the same as it had the last time I was there—the night Adam had almost lost his life. A long driveway led up to the two-story whitewashed farmhouse. The farther I pulled in to join the line of unfamiliar cars, the more I recognized the differences. Mrs. King’s garden looked freshly landscaped. A new coat of paint made the house appear bright even in the fading sunlight.

  I tried not to be too obvious about checking out the new cars next to mine. Pushing aside a fresh wave of nerves, I pulled out the bottle of white wine I’d bought for Mrs. King. It was a poor peace offering, but it had to count for something, right?

  Déjà vu set in the moment I stepped foot on the stone step path and walked up the front porch steps. I glanced up at the window to Adam’s old bedroom and wondered if he still lived there. He said something earlier about coming “back” but from where? I realized for the first time, it may have been stupid for me to scratch out all mention of the Kings from my talks with Peter through the years.

  The door opened at my first knock, and I imagined my feet had roots to keep from stepping away from Hailey King’s hostile glare. “What are you doing here?”

  I held up the bottle of wine and shrugged. “I was invited.”

  Mrs. King rushed up behind Hailey and beamed at me. “Danica! So glad you could make it, honey. Come on in. Supper is almost ready. Hailey, don’t stand in the doorway like that. Let the poor girl in.”

  It was with some small satisfaction that I saw confusion mar Hailey King’s brow, and I didn’t hesitate to brush past her.

  How does it feel to have your home invaded?

  I handed over the bottle of wh
ite wine in the kitchen. Mrs. King acted like I’d just given her the Pope’s best vintage, the way she carried on.

  “You are too sweet! This is exactly what we needed for supper. How did you know this was my favorite?”

  “Lucky guess?” I offered and watched Mrs. King pull steaming lasagna from the oven. “That smells like heaven,” I said with a sigh and shook my head. “Why can’t I ever cook like that?”

  Hailey waltzed past me and, under her breath, murmured, “Talent, bitch.”

  My grin felt tight on my face as I ignored her. Mrs. King waved away the compliment.

  “It just takes practice; that’s what my mother used to say. Though I still can’t get her fried chicken right. You won’t believe the hours I’ve spent agonizing over that.”

  “So, you’re in charge at the hospital now, right?”

  Hailey poured herself a helping of white wine and watched us over the rim of the glass with narrowed eyes. Around Peter, she was lovey-dovey eyes and simpering smiles. I felt more comfortable seeing her in her natural habitat.

  Mrs. King unraveled tinfoil from a loaf of garlic bread. “I suppose I’ve earned it after twenty-five years in that place. Though most days, being in charge feels more like a chore than anything else. But enough about me. I want to hear all about your adventures! Peter said you travel for your work with the university?”

  This was the part I hated—the life I didn’t care to think about while playing nanny and chauffeur. “Yeah… I mostly deal with other colleges and universities. I negotiate certain items in their possession and make trades. Sometimes they let me take relics back to Petersburg on loan; sometimes they don’t.”

  “How exciting! What I wouldn’t give to travel Europe like that.” Mrs. King set the plates on the table, and for a moment, the dreamy quality her eyes had adopted reminded me so much of her son.

  I forced a laugh. “Yeah, just call me Indiana Jones.”

  Mrs. King’s gaze fell on me, and her lips turned up in a soft smile, the one she reserved for her children. My eyes stung with sudden pressure. “I think it’s a wonderful thing, you giving all that up to come home. We’ve missed you.”

  Funny that ten years ago, I left Fayetteville thinking of St. Petersburg as home.

  Hailey dropped a handful of forks on top of the plates.

  Mrs. King pulled glasses down from the cabinet. “Danica, would you like a glass of wine with supper or something else? I’ve got sweet tea and lemonade in the fridge.”

  “Wine sounds great,” I replied.

  Mrs. King was right—the wine tasted perfect with the lasagna. My host filled me in on the Fayetteville gossip over the next few minutes. Not only was she vice president of the local garden club and a Daughter of the Confederacy, Mrs. King was a genuinely wonderful person. Everyone on her good side said so. Everyone on the other side stayed clear, lest they face her wrath. Her gossip was the right blend of humor and kindness. As long as I had known her, she hated painting people in a bad light.

  “And did you hear about the McSpadden girl, Amber? She’s flying in tomorrow, matter of fact. Mrs. McSpadden is reaching beyond herself, if you ask me. Trying to set her daughter up with Leach? Can you imagine those two together?”

  Hailey paused between bites of lasagna. “Mama, if Leach agreed to go on a date with Amber McSpadden, it was probably just to shut her mother up.”

  Mrs. King poured herself the last of the white wine and winked at me. “All I know is I hate seeing that poor boy miserable and lonely all the time. He won’t look at most of the girls in town. Hailey, didn’t the two of you date at one time?”

  I leaned forward, eager for this slice of news, and enjoyed Hailey’s humiliation.

  “Mama, leave it alone! That was five years ago.”

  “Not that anyone could call what you two did dating.”

  Hailey set her fork down and was on the verge of digging her hole deeper, when the back door burst open. I was too busy hiding my laughter behind my wineglass to turn around and look.

  Mrs. King stood, wineglass still in hand. “Oh, Adam, honey, so glad you could make it! I didn’t know if you would get off in time.”

  “I just finished up on the Thunderbird, actually. She’s a sweet piece.”

  “Sorry we went ahead and ate, but I saved the last third for you. Knew you couldn’t resist my lasagna.”

  Adam laughed. “When have I ever turned down a home-cooked meal?”

  I looked up and met Hailey King’s smug-ass grin then whipped around in my seat.

  Mrs. King had come to stand in front of my chair, I realized, and she motioned toward me as she stepped aside. “Hope you don’t mind, but I thought a little mixed company tonight might liven things up.”

  Adam King was dressed in normal clothes that showed off his well-defined chest. Damn… My mouth went dry as I let my gaze travel up to find his beautiful eyes already fixed with that special brand of fury reserved for me.

  My earlier resolve faltered, but only for a moment. I was Mrs. King’s guest, not his. I did a stupid thing when I smiled.

  Adam’s answering smile was almost cruel as he grabbed Mrs. King by the arm. “Mama, can I talk to you for just a second?”

  “Sure thing, honey!”

  I decided now was the time to make a quick getaway. I made a beeline for the front porch and tried to pretend I couldn’t hear Adam and Mrs. King shouting inside behind me. Maybe coming there wasn’t the best plan after all.

  I heard the screen door open and shut behind me, and I stared confused at the full glass of red wine offered to me.

  Hailey King held another full glass in her hand. “Here, this will help.”

  “Did you slip arsenic in here?”

  Hailey laughed and eyed the wine. “Guess you’ll find out.” She leaned against the banister with me.

  With only the screen door as a barrier between us and the storm inside, I could hear almost every word. “Did you even think before inviting her over here?”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Wyatt Adam King!”

  I cringed at the threat looming behind Mrs. King’s voice and was grateful Hailey interrupted.

  “Sorry you have to listen to this. Adam isn’t the best at dealing with emotional situations, not like many guys are.”

  “I shouldn’t have come over tonight. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I’ll give you this—my mother can be damned persuasive when she wants to be. She always sees the best in people too, you know.” Hailey leaned in a bit closer, until I could smell the alcohol and the hospital on her. “She never believed the gossip about you, used to defend you to anyone who would listen.”

  Somehow that knowledge didn’t make me feel any better than what I was about to admit to. “I wasn’t the slut everyone thought I was in high school, but I changed after I left.”

  Hailey nodded. “I figured as much.”

  “You’re being awfully nice to me,” I remarked.

  “Am I? Hmm… must be the wine.”

  “Girls, you can come back inside now,” Mrs. King said from inside the screen door. We followed her inside, me with more than a little trepidation. I didn’t breathe easy until I found the kitchen empty.

  Thank God for small miracles, I thought with a smirk that faded when I saw the strain in Mrs. King’s face. “You sure this is okay? Maybe I should just head home.”

  Her brow furrowed, revealing old and new wrinkles. “You’re my guest, Danica, and I invited you here for supper. Now we are going to sit and damn well enjoy what’s left of this evening.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hailey and I both echoed as we took our seats. The reflex was instinctive, embedded in me after years of firm discipline. Mrs. King never spared the rod with me, even though I wasn’t her natural daughter. And it was that, along with the effort she made to make us laugh for the next thirty minutes that reminded me why I’d come there.

  I hugged her goodbye after a firm promise to come to dinner next week, same time, and escap
ed to the front porch once more. The wine and good food had filled me with just the right blend of happiness, so I almost forgot about Adam… until I ran into him on the front steps.

  “I’m so sorry!” I shot my hands out to prevent tripping onto the front lawn and, for one blessed moment, felt the curve of a hardened shoulder and brush of hair. Then his hand was reaching up and guiding my waist so I was forced to sit beside him. It was too close for comfort. He was still angry. I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and hear it in the sound of his voice.

  “Didn’t you hear a word I said the other night?”

  I shook my head and tried to shake off the tingling butterflies dancing in my stomach. Damned butterflies. “You never said anything about your mother, just the Brewers.”

  He sighed. “You knew what I meant, Danica.”

  “Look, it’s not like I planned on running into your mother yesterday. She invited me to dinner; I said yes. I had no idea this was supposed to be some big family night. Besides, you know I could never deny your mom anything.”

  He paused and sounded almost reluctant when he answered with, “Yeah, I know…”

  The crickets filled the silence between us. I felt my blood pressure building. I was ready for a fight. “Is that it?”

  “What?” His tone was bleak, tired.

  “You aren’t gonna yell at me some more? Threaten me again with a lawsuit or more bullshit?” I know I was crazy for wanting him to, but I preferred the anger, the fire in his eyes as opposed to this, whatever it was.

  “Last time I yelled at you, you didn’t listen. Why should I waste my breath?”

  I opened my mouth then held my breath and paused. He had a point, and I smiled because I felt as though I had finally gained a little ground. It made me feel generous enough to make small talk when I should have stood up and walked away right then and there. “So, you work at the garage with Peter now?”

  “He sort of took me in after I got back from the army.”