Throbbing like a sore tooth, Cassaundra Reynolds pulled off highway ___ onto Meander Road

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Throbbing like a sore tooth, Cassaundra Reynolds pulled off highway ___ onto Meander Road Page 3

by Susan Shay


  Her gaze wouldn’t meet his as she settled into the car. “Sorry, she’s old and kind of cantankerous. If you’d rather ride with Mir—”

  “Oh, I can find my way around her. In my hands, this baby will be very happy.” Gingerly caressing the leather-covered steering wheel, he glanced at Cassie in the semi-darkness to see her mouth drop open. While he hadn’t intended to give the words a sexy spin, seeing her face after she took the phrase the wrong way—eyes at half-mast, cheeks pinking, and her glistening bottom lip caught between her teeth—made him wish he could do it again.

  “That’s right. You owned a Volkswagen in college, didn’t you?” Her voice rasped slightly as she buckled her seatbelt, then leaned away from him to angle her back against the door. In a play of shadow and light, the simple red dress she wore made her body look perfect, touchable, kissable. When at last she turned her head to look at him, the heat in her gaze stole the air from his lungs.

  Without breath, he couldn’t speak or think, so he nodded. It didn’t matter what she’d asked. Whatever it was, he’d do it. Or find it. Or climb it. Or build it. For the woman gazing at him with eyes that could heat his very marrow, he’d do anything at all. Even take on a monster, if need be.

  Startled at his reaction, he gripped the steering wheel. What had happened to him? His brain must have liquefied to warm Jell-O for him to suddenly have the hots for her. He usually had more self-control. More reason.

  Hoping for some semblance of normality, he fumbled blindly for a moment before he found the key and started the engine. Rolling down the window, he stuck his head out and took a deep breath, but it didn’t help.

  “Is anything wrong?” Her velvet voice curled toward him like a caress.

  Yes! he wanted to yell, but he couldn’t make his tongue work. My brain stopped and it’s your fault. I can’t remember which pedal is the clutch, how to shift gears, or even how to turn on the headlights. All I can remember is how to look at you. How I’d like to hold you, kiss you, make love to you.

  What was she, some kind of witch to have cast this spell on him? No woman in his life, no matter how long or how well he’d known her, had ever affected him that way.

  Hell, this was the way the other guys behaved in junior high—but not him. Never him. He was too cool. Too calm. Too controlled.

  He was a train wreck.

  “Um, I think your sister is waiting for us.”

  The thought of having to explain to Miriam if she came back to see what was keeping them was enough to rouse him. He rolled up the window and shifted into reverse. Finally on the road, he did his best to concentrate on Miriam’s taillights, because if he lost her, he’d never find his way to the restaurant—especially with Cassie next to him.

  Why had his brain gone into a meltdown? Damn it all to hell, he was helpless. Make that hopeless. His only chance was to stay as far away from Cassie—mind, body, and soul—as possible.

  Gritting his teeth so hard his jaws ached, he concentrated on driving. Maybe, if he focused hard enough and his face hurt enough, he would keep his mind from the captivating woman sitting beside him. Damn, there he went again.

  He drove with a death grip on the steering wheel, barely seeing the streets of Stone Hill. It was possible he could relax a little now that he had his libido under control. He allowed his attention to stray to the edge of his peripheral vision and almost flinched as another bolt of lightning flashed through him.

  Maybe not. But he had to find a way. He couldn’t go around turning into a puddle each time he was near her.

  Sucking his cheek between his teeth, he bit down hard before looking her way. In the dim light, he could see the glisten of tears in her eyes, and all thought of self-preservation drained from his limp brain. “My God, Cassie, what’s wrong?”

  Startled, she widened her eyes, then closed them and turned her face to the window. “No-nothing.”

  Downshifting, he frowned at her. “Women don’t usually cry just for the fun of it—at least, I hope they don’t.”

  Her words were so low, he barely heard her. “It’s just too hard to explain.”

  Were the tears a ruse? “Hey, don’t be like that. Why don’t you just tell me?”

  “I can’t. It’s too...” With a sigh, she paused mysteriously.

  Finally he was on solid ground. He’d seen this ploy before. Like a three-year-old with a secret, she got off by telling a little, and clamming up. She wanted him to plead, but for what?

  Then he remembered what Miriam told him about her. With his body on the rampage, he’d forgotten the reason he offered to drive her car. If he could prove she wasn’t psychic, that finding the little girl had been the opening volley in an elaborate scam, he could save his sister and Stone Hill from a lot of misery. “What is it?” he coaxed, joining her game.

  A measuring look came over her face before she lowered her gaze. “I dropped the cup because I felt something.”

  Afraid to tip his hand, he hesitated. “Something? You mean, like a sharp edge? Were you cut?”

  Her mouth drooped, making him wish he could forget everything and coax a smile. He wouldn’t let himself meet her eyes because he didn’t want to see the sadness there. Didn’t want to know what a consummate actress she could be.

  “Not something physical, Keegan. It was more of a memory.”

  A great sigh because of what he had to do built in his chest. He couldn’t release it, though, no matter how hard it was to breathe. This was his job, to protect society, and his sister, from frauds. He lowered an eyebrow. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. What was it?”

  She hesitated for several moments. When the restaurant came into view, he cut a glance her way. “What’s wrong? Is it a big secret?”

  Shaking her head, she gripped her hands in her lap. “I-it was a memory of a young woman’s body being pushed over a cliff.”

  Startled by the gruesome nature of her story, Keegan almost missed the turn into Ron’s. Jerking the wheel at the last minute so that the tires protested loudly, he pulled into a parking place, then stared at Cassie as she finished.

  “The report in the paper last week of the girl whose body was found in the ravine?” Her voice dropped so low that he had to lean closer to hear it. “I believe she was murdered.”

  Remembering the black and white photo of the laughing girl, he felt a chill sweep down his spine. That story had bothered him, too, so maybe Cassie’s “memory” was plausible. Maybe she had an overactive imagination. Maybe she’d had a nightmare.

  Or maybe she lied.

  A sudden tap next to his ear made him jump so hard that he cracked his knee on the steering column.

  “Have a little trouble remembering how to drive a Bug?” Miriam asked as she leaned against the window of the Volkswagen. “You pulled in here like a kid on the first day with his license.”

  He forced a chuckle as he escaped from the car. “When they said it’s just like riding a bike, they must not have been talking about German engineering.”

  Finally Cassie stepped out, as unruffled and unwrinkled as if their ride together had never happened. Her cool gaze passed over him, hesitating only momentarily before moving on to Miriam. “Um, smell those burgers. I’m famished.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Cassie and Miriam turned toward the restaurant’s door, then realizing they’d left him behind, his sister glanced over her shoulder. “What’s the matter with my big brother?”

  Cassie gazed at him, blinking rapidly as if she were trying to look away but couldn’t. She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  As if breaking through an icy shell, he walked toward the pair. What had happened to him? He used to be so impervious to the people around him, but now he was a puppet on a string, reacting to a pretty face and a perfect body.

  He was toast.

  ****

  Cassie walked with Miriam into the restaurant filled with gray tables flanked by black vinyl benches, leaving Keegan to follow. Although she hated rudeness, sometimes a little helped in a
big way to keep someone at arm’s length. And with Keegan, she needed all the help she could get.

  As she sniffed appreciatively at the odor of frying onions, she wondered what had caused her to ignore the check on her spirit and tell him about her vision. Had the emotion she experienced from the cup been so strong it flowed out of her without her desire, or was it a link between her and Keegan?

  Neither option was a comfort.

  Emotion, still alive with so much strength, after all that time on a cold, inert object could mean disaster for her. If she experienced a residual passion with that intensity again, she might not be aware of what she said and did during the resulting vision.

  And long ago she’d learned psychic verbalization terrified people, especially those close to her, which was why she’d worked so long and hard to contain it. She couldn’t rid herself of the curse, but at least she could hide it from others. Usually.

  The thought of losing any part of the restraint she’d found over her ability spread fear through her like a cancer. If she started verbalizing, she’d never be able to keep her curse a secret.

  The other possibility was she and Keegan might have a psychic connection. Lovers, coupled because of their emotional, spiritual, and physical bonds, often had such a connection.

  A dead weight slowed her breathing as she realized the implications. If she and Keegan were linked, it meant the emotion in the cup hadn’t made her talk, Keegan’s presence had. And while she wouldn’t be in danger every time she encountered a powerful emotion, she was vulnerable to him.

  But she didn’t know what kind of a man he was. Having read his articles that Miriam saved over the years, she’d learned a little about him. For one thing, he’d developed his career by destroying the lives of the people he investigated. He didn’t hesitate to expose to the world the most embarrassing details, and he made no apologies for it.

  Goose flesh crept across her shoulders and down her spine as a new idea skewed the direction her thoughts were taking. Dear God, what if he had come to Stone Hill, and was staying, because he’d read that stupid article in the paper when she found the lost child?

  What if the flash had been a nightmarish premonition? A non-factual vision of the future brought on because he was there to debunk her? To “kill” her existence there in Stone Hill? Expose her to the world?

  After Miriam slipped into a booth toward the front of the cozy restaurant, Cassie numbly sank down beside her. Miriam smirked at Keegan as he slid in across from them. “Ha! I won! I get to face the door.”

  At Keegan’s chuckle, Cassie looked from one to the other, concentrating hard to follow their byplay. “What’s going on, you two?”

  “Aw, my little sister will never grow up. We used to race to see who got to sit facing the door in a restaurant, because we’d be the first one to see people we knew when they came in the place.” He folded his hands on the table and leaned on his elbows. “You watch, she won’t leave that seat once while we’re here, because she’s afraid I’ll take it.”

  Miriam lightly smacked his arm. “Hey, buddy, you made up the rules on this game, not me.”

  Grinning mischievously, he winked at Cassie. “In that case, I can make up new ones, if I want.”

  “No, you can’t. I’m not young enough to believe you when you tell me they’ve been there all along, that you just forgot to tell—” Miriam’s face dimmed as quickly as if a bulb had just burned out. While the smile in her eyes fled, her lips remained frozen in their upturned position, leaving her an empty caricature of the woman she’d been just moments earlier.

  Miriam caught her breath as she watched the man who’d just walked into the door of the restaurant. Steve. Her heart lurched, then knocked so hard against her chest, she had to squeeze her fists to keep from crying out. After all, they weren’t divorced yet. Maybe he’d come to his senses and was trying to find her so he could tell her he’d realized his mistake.

  But her buoying excitement quickly fled when his latest conquest followed him in the door. The blonde’s hair was bleached too white, her makeup applied too heavily, and her clothing was way too tight—just the kind of woman Steve enjoyed.

  Fighting tears, Miriam couldn’t keep her stomach from heaving when he stopped to take the woman’s hand, then started toward their table. If not for the bimbo, he would be a sight to fill her aching heart. How could he have done this? How could he have destroyed their family? With all her being, she’d wanted ever after.

  His attitude had become whatever.

  Even though she couldn’t help but stare at him, he hadn’t even noticed her—but why should he? She was no longer the kind of woman he cared to know. Because of the tournament, she’d been running late that morning. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail, hadn’t bothered to apply makeup, and chose her most comfortable outfit, a wind suit that was loose and casual. To the man she was doomed to love for the rest of her life, that made her all but invisible.

  As she watched, his eyes widened when he recognized Cassie, then finally he looked at her. After a slight hesitation, he pulled the blonde a little closer and started toward their table. Miriam forced herself to breathe.

  Dear God, he’d lost even more weight. When he’d started jogging each morning and evening, she’d been disturbed, but he’d claimed it was for his health. She should have been more worried when she offered to run with him, but he discouraged her, saying that she could never keep up and he wanted the best workout he could get. He’d acted as if it was for her, but all along it was so he could attract younger women. And break her heart.

  When Steve reached their table, Miriam could smell the cologne he wore. It was something new, something she’d never smelled before, and brought to mind the pain of his leaving all over again.

  He gave Cassie another glance, then finally turned his attention to Miriam. “Hello,” he murmured in a low voice.

  Stop it, she wanted to shout. Don’t use your sexy tone on me when you don’t really want me. When you’ve thrown me away like yesterday’s newspaper. When you’ve got a bimbo by the hand.

  But she didn’t say any of those things. She could barely find enough air in her lungs to echo his word. “Hello, Steve.”

  When Keegan stood, surprising Steve into taking a step back, a sense of relief flooded her. Recovering as quickly as possible, Steve stuck out his hand. “Well, Keegan. Long time no see, buddy. When did you get into town?”

  To her joy, Keegan looked at Steve’s hand as if checking to see that it was clean. Then, his back stiff, he glanced at the woman. “Who’s this...?” He left the last word unsaid, but his meaning was clear. And for dating a man who was still married—to her—the blonde deserved it.

  Steve had always reddened around the collar when he was flustered, and tonight was no exception. He glanced over his shoulder as if surprised to see the woman there. “Oh! Twyla, this is Keegan, this is Cassie, and that’s Miriam.” His voice went flat on her name, as if they’d never laughed together. Never shared joy or love.

  Keegan didn’t change his focus, but glared into Steve’s face. “You’d better leave.”

  Surprise lifted Steve’s newly tanned features. “Leave? But Twyla and I want—”

  When Keegan went into protective brother mode, Miriam shoved back in her seat, wishing they hadn’t come. He took a step toward Steve, removing what distance there had been, and shoved his face close enough she expected their noses to bump, then spoke in a low and menacing voice. “If you don’t leave now, everyone in the place is going to find out just what you’re really made of.”

  Blinking in surprise, Steve shrugged and nodded. After he tried to swallow a couple of times, he nodded again. “Okay, okay, Keegan. We’re going. Don’t get—” Whatever he’d been about to say, he thought better of it, turned, and slammed out of the restaurant.

  Miriam fought the tears that filled her eyes as Keegan slid back into the booth. After glancing back once more to make sure Steve hadn’t returned, he reached out and covered her
hands with his own. For the first time, she realized they were cold as the rock that comprised her heart. “He’s gone, Sis. There’s no reason to cry.”

  Surprised to find her cheeks wet, she grabbed a napkin, dabbed at her eyes, and dried her cheeks. “Thank you, Bubba. You don’t know how much it means to me to have my big brother here, standing up for me.”

  His half-smile filled her with a security she hadn’t known since Steve packed his things. Years ago, their parents moved to Arizona while she and Keegan stayed with Aunt Hattie to finish high school. He’d been everything to her—friend, mentor, father-figure, and biggest supporter. He’d helped her with her homework every night instead of going out with his friends, and even lived at home during college, when he had a full scholarship that would have paid for his room and board so he could be there for her. It was wonderful to have him home again, even if she knew it couldn’t last.

  Remembering Cassie, she sent her a weak smile, the best she could muster. “Sorry about all this. I hope you weren’t embarrassed to be part of the…ugliness.”

  Her responding smile wry, Cassie shook her head. “No way. I was just sorry Keegan didn’t smack him for bringing that woman in here. Steve knows this is one of our favorite places.”

  With a light of approval in his eyes, Keegan chuckled. “Next time let me know what you’re thinking—because I was thinking the same thing. I was just worried that if I slugged Steve, you two might have to handle Twyla.”

  Cassie glanced quickly at Miriam, the smile still playing around her lips. “We weren’t worried, because we knew Twyla the slut wouldn’t intervene.”

  “Oh, you did?” Keegan clearly enjoyed the interaction with Cassie. “And what if she’d turned out to be a lady wrestler or one of those kick-boxers?”

 

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