by Regina Cole
Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit.
He rested his elbow on the tabletop, knocking a magazine to the floor.
“Whoops. Sorry.” He bent down to get it.
A woman in a beautiful white gown was spread across the back of the magazine. The tagline for a bridal boutique advertisement read We help you tie the knot in style.
“Not a problem. So, you were saying?”
His mind was blank. Totally, completely blank. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Mrs. Yelverton furrowed her brow in obvious concern. “Are you okay?”
He had to say something. He looked down in desperation. The magazine was still there, facedown beside him, the laughing woman in the white gown like an angel of salvation.
“Weddings,” he blurted out as he straightened in his seat. “We organize weddings.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck. Had. Just. Come. Out. Of. His. Mouth?
“Weddings. Wow, I hadn’t expected that.”
He coughed. “Yeah, me neither.”
Mrs. Yelverton laughed. “I can imagine. How did you get into it?”
Wanting nothing more than to jump up and leave the county at a dead run, Trey shrugged, trying to play it off. “I got a chance to do some, enjoyed it, made my own business.”
“That’s really impressive! What’s the business called?”
His hand was lying atop the magazine beside him, his knuckles lining up with the ad copy perfectly. He read the words out together.
“The Iron Knot.”
Mrs. Yelverton laughed, clapping her hands delightedly. “That’s absolutely perfect. Trey, I’m so proud of you.”
Those words should have made him feel amazing. Instead, he felt like a scum-sucking bastard for lying to her.
Just then, the door behind her opened, and Trey’s chest went vise-tight, his heart flinging itself against his ribs in triple time.
She was long, lean, with bone-straight blond hair and elfin features complementing porcelain skin. Her blue eyes were a bit red, as if she’d been crying recently. But despite the obviously brimming emotion beneath the surface, she wore a bright smile. It was the kind of expression he’d adopted many times over the years. Pretending things were all right when everything had turned to ashes around him was the only option he’d had at times, and seeing the same kind of defense mechanism in her touched him in a way he wasn’t expecting. Physically, she was just his type, and the way she moved into the room, both cautious and confident—strong as hell despite whatever was trying to bring her down—sparked immediate interest and admiration in his gut.
This was…unexpected.
“Oh, Bethy, I didn’t expect you until late this afternoon.” Mrs. Yelverton rose and pulled the girl into her arms.
A wave of nausea overtook Trey. Was this girl…Was she…
Well, so much for that short-lived spark of attraction.
“Trey, I’d like you to meet Bethany.”
“Hi,” the blond said, and Trey stood. She looked a little intimidated as he stood to his full height.
He’d been about to step toward her for the introduction, but he stopped. No need to make her more uncomfortable. But the idea that she found him scary was oddly disappointing.
“I’m Bethany Jernigan,” she said, sticking her hand out for him to shake.
“Trey Harding,” he said, gripping her much smaller hand in his, trying to ignore the softness of her skin, the faint tremble of her touch.
“Bethany, I hope you won’t mind keeping this quiet from Sarah for now. I haven’t had a chance to tell her about it. But this…” Mrs. Yelverton drew Trey’s arm through hers. “This is Samuel.”
Bethany gasped, her hand over her mouth, and Trey looked away. “Samuel? That Samuel?”
Mrs. Yelverton nodded delightedly. “My son. He’s finally home.”
“Oh…oh my God.”
Trey hated this. He felt awkward, like a sideshow freak. His spine prickled, his feet nearly bouncing with the urge to get the hell out of there.
“Trey, Bethany has been part of our family for years now. She’s your sister Sarah’s best friend and lived with us until she went to college. Of course, she’s still got a room here. She’ll always be welcome to come back home.” Mrs. Yelverton’s smile was gentle as she looked at Bethany.
“Wait. So we’re not related?” Trey gestured between himself and Bethany.
Mrs. Yelverton laughed. “No, not by blood. But I hope you’ll be close.”
Something uncurled in his belly then, a knot of anxiety releasing as he looked at Bethany Jernigan—no relation—with new eyes.
“I hope so too,” he said. She blushed a little and glanced away.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Bethany said, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder. Something he hadn’t noticed before slipped in her hand with the movement, nearly crashing to the floor before she snagged it and stuffed it in her bag.
Weird. The way she clutched the purse closer after putting that little rectangular box inside declared it to be something really important to her. For a moment he wondered if that might have been the reason for her obviously tangled nerves.
“I just thought I’d do a little preliminary work on the wedding before we met this afternoon.”
Wedding? Ah, hell.
“Oh, Trey was just telling me he runs a wedding planning service! We have to hire him for Sarah’s wedding, don’t you think?”
Trey’s mouth fell open. Air wouldn’t leave his lungs. He was never lost for words, but just then, he couldn’t have uttered a syllable if he tried.
Bethany looked from him to Mrs. Yelverton and back again. “Well, Sarah’s paying me to plan the wedding. It seems like a waste to hire two people for the same job.”
He could have kissed her right then. An out. Perfect.
“I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes,” Trey said hastily. “You were hired first, so it’s only right you have the job.”
“I was thinking the two of you could collaborate. And besides, it will be a great way to get to know each other. Working together as a family.” She smiled at them, and the expression sapped the fight right out of Trey. “Don’t you think?”
Bethany’s shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly, but she nodded. “Of course, well, whatever you think is best.”
Mrs. Yelverton looked at him, gripping his nerveless fingers in hers, drawing him in with that clear, honest, kind gaze of hers.
“Trey, I would be honored if the Iron Knot could help Bethany plan Sarah and Mark’s wedding. I’ll pay all your normal fees. It would be so nice to see what you’ve built, to meet your associates. What do you say?”
Suddenly he was a little boy again, the kid who’d wanted so badly to have a real mom to please. He’d hated every Mother’s Day, every time he’d been reminded there was nobody who cared if he made them happy or not.
And for that moment, that one single moment, he wanted to please her, and damn the consequences.
“I’d be happy to.”
Chapter Four
It had been the strangest morning that Bethany could remember.
Mama Yelverton had insisted she stay. Bethany had agreed on the condition that she cook lunch. At least then she could busy her hands and give her brain some room to think.
She didn’t trust the guy. It wasn’t the dark clothes or the tattoos. She didn’t care about that kind of stuff. It was the menacing air around him, the completely outrageous story that he’d tried to feed Mama Yelverton.
A wedding planner? Really? How stupid did he think they were?
The pot lid slammed down a bit too hard, and Bethany jumped.
“Everything okay in there?” Mama Yelverton called.
“Just fine,” Bethany said, her voice thin as she yanked open the drawer where the kitchen knives
were kept. “Lost my grip.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” Mama Yelverton said.
“I’ve got this… You two just catch up.”
The buzz of voices from the living room indicated that they’d taken Bethany’s advice, and she relaxed a little.
Money. It had to be about money. This guy was taking advantage of the fact that the Yelvertons’ child had died as a baby and was pretending to be Samuel in order to get his hands on some cash. Scum-sucking jerk. To prey on a family’s pain that way—
Honestly, it reminded her of her grandmother. Bethany sliced tomatoes with a vengeance. She’d be damned if she’d watch this lowlife take advantage of the Yelvertons that way. Mama Yelverton was too kind, too generous. Sarah was much the same way, but she was busy with pharmacy school, and it wasn’t like she was close enough to keep an eye on things.
If anyone was going to protect Mama Yelverton from this money-grubbing fake, it would have to be Bethany.
“Can I give you a hand?”
She jumped and gave a little cry as that deep, sexy voice was suddenly right behind her. A broad hand steadied her, the touch sending electrical impulses from her elbow throughout her body.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said as she jerked away. “No need to get violent.”
She looked down and saw that she was still holding the chef’s knife she’d been using to chop vegetables—pointed straight at him.
“Oh God, I’m sorry.”
“No harm done,” he said with a smile that was part mischief, part evil, and all kinds of hot. “I shouldn’t sneak up on a lady like that.”
“Where’d Mama Yelverton go?”
“She got a phone call.” He nodded toward the front of the house. “Thought I’d give her some privacy and see if you needed a hand.”
His proximity was doing deliciously decadent things to Bethany’s insides. He was just so damn…big. Imagining him tossing her around like she weighed nothing was causing her heart to do loop-de-loops.
No. Focus. This guy isn’t trustworthy, and he’s trying to take advantage of people you love.
Tamping down the desire that had curled warmly in the pit of her belly, Bethany turned back to the veggies for her pasta salad.
“Nope. I’m good. Thanks anyway.”
“What’s in the box?”
She froze, her insides suddenly going cold. “What?”
He nodded toward her purse where it sat on the edge of the counter. The corner of her father’s Purple Heart case was sticking out of the top, plainly visible. The knife she’d been using clattered to the cutting board, and she reached for the purse, stuffing the box as deeply as she could to the bottom.
“It’s nothing.”
“Must be a big nothing if it made a strong girl like you cry.”
She rounded on him. “Why do you care? I’m a stranger.”
“I guess I just don’t like seeing people hurt.”
The defensive anger that had been building inside her disappeared in a cloud of confusion. She leaned against the counter, looking at him. Really looking at him this time. Past the tattoos, the muscles, the dangerous air that surrounded him.
His deep-green eyes spoke volumes. There was a steely strength in his expression, in the set of his jaw, the carriage of his shoulders, but those eyes told her he knew what it was to have a soul-deep, searing, painful loss, just like she did.
He cared. Despite the fact he’d never clapped eyes on her before, he’d noticed her pain and cared enough to check on her.
And despite herself, despite her better judgment, she found that incredibly attractive.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For asking, I mean.”
There was a moment of silence, and then there was a big, hard body leaning up against the counter, lessening the difference in their height. She tried to look away, but his eyes were so magnetic.
God, he’s going to kiss me.
And, insanely, she didn’t mind. Instinctively tilting her chin up for his kiss, she waited.
And waited.
When it didn’t happen, she opened her eyes. Trey was popping a slice of cucumber into his mouth, stepping away. As he chewed, she shook her head to clear the insanity.
It didn’t work.
He grinned, reaching for another cucumber slice. “Fishing for a kiss, huh?”
“What?” Bethany squeaked. “No, I wasn’t—”
“We just met. Give me a chance to get to know you. I’m not that kind of girl.” He winked.
His confidence was maddening and a little charming at the same time. Despite herself, she laughed. Damn him.
He leaned close, and his whisper blew across her ear, sending shivers up and down her spine. “If you want a kiss, just ask.”
She leaned closer, tipping her chin upward until mere centimeters separated their mouths.
For a second, she wondered what it would be like to give in to the screaming temptation of her body and to kiss him. A voice from the other room snapped her back into the moment.
This was a con man. And he was trying to con her as well as her surrogate family.
Not on her watch.
“You should know,” she said, not lessening the distance between them. “If you hurt the Yelvertons, I will come after you.”
“I’m going to like you, Strong Girl,” he said, then winked as he sauntered away as if nothing had happened.
Bethany stared after him.
What the? Who the hell did he think he was? Really?
She turned back to attack her vegetables. Her reaction to the man was as maddening as him being there in the first place.
Just then, Mama Yelverton’s voice floated in from the living room, grinding Bethany’s thoughts to a halt.
“Bethany? I’ve talked to Sarah. She’s still in town, and she’s coming for lunch. Will there be enough?”
Bethany did a couple calculations in her head. “Yup, I can make it work.”
“You’re a star.” Mama Yelverton smiled. “Sure you don’t need any help?”
The question reminded her of Trey’s offer of assistance, and Bethany had to fight the blood that rushed into her cheeks. “Nope, I’m good. It’ll be done in about ten minutes.”
“I’ll get the table set. Trey, would you mind helping me?”
As Mama Yelverton opened the cupboard, Bethany looked in Trey’s direction. The teasing laughter was gone from his expression, replaced by a carefully crafted blankness.
She looked harder. His shoulders were tense, a slight tremor in his hands the only giveaway. Was he…nervous? And why did she have the sudden urge to comfort him?
He looked over at her, and their eyes met. He looked away quickly, as if afraid to give away too much of what he was feeling.
Con artist. Swindler. Crook. Don’t let yourself fall into his trap. Her self-motivational speech broke the spell, and she curled her hands into fists.
She didn’t know what to make of him. But she did know she’d watch every move he made. One misstep, and she’d be all over him.
Semper fi, as her father had constantly reminded her. Always faithful. She wouldn’t let the Yelvertons down. Not even for a man that set her nerves on fire.
* * *
When the sound of the garage door met her ears, Bethany was swamped with a strange mixture of gratitude and dread.
On the one hand, the fact that her best friend was there was amazing. Never having been as drawn to a man as she was to Trey, Bethany could really use the extra support.
On the other hand, that man was Sarah’s long-lost brother.
It looked like Bethany’s frustration and unexpected attraction was her own problem for now.
“Hey, hey,” Sarah chirped as she came through the door that led to the laundry room and garage entrance. “Mom said
you were cooking lunch. What’s the occasion?”
Bethany bit the inside of her lip as she finished cutting the sandwiches on the diagonal. “I’ll let her tell you.”
“Hi there, baby.” Mama Yelverton came into the kitchen, a nervous smile on her face. “I’m so glad you could come.”
“Mark had something come up, so he’s headed back to Asheville.” Sarah plopped onto the barstool opposite the counter where Bethany was arranging food on a large serving plate. “What’s with the impromptu family gathering?”
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Mama Yelverton said, reaching over and taking Sarah’s hand.
“I’ll give you guys some privacy,” Bethany said, grabbing the platter of sandwiches and scooting from the kitchen before anyone could protest.
Anxiety climbed her spine with every soft murmur of voices from the kitchen behind her.
This was an unknown. Sarah had confided in Bethany many times over the years about her mixed feelings regarding her older brother’s disappearance. Due to Papa Yelverton’s feelings on the matter, Mama Yelverton hadn’t really kicked the search into high gear until about a year after Papa’s death. Of course Sarah wanted her mother’s search to be successful, but Bethany couldn’t forget the hurt in Sarah’s eyes when she’d wondered aloud if she just wasn’t enough for Mama Yelverton to be happy.
In any case, Bethany was on Sarah’s side. She sighed as she set the plate in the center of the table, in between the pasta salad and the deviled eggs.
Footsteps behind her made her tense, but she didn’t turn around.
“Looks good.”
That voice was still doing things to her. Damn him.
“Thank you,” she said coolly, pouring herself a glass of water, keenly aware of his gaze raking her up and down.
Jesus, she had to get things under control.
“Can I get some of that?”
“I’m sure you can,” she said, setting the pitcher in front of him and creating some much-needed distance between them.
“It’s okay, Strong Girl. Wasn’t asking you for any favors.”
The urge to snap back at him was huge, but Bethany just took a sip of her water and ignored him.
“Trey?”