Sweeter Than Sin

by Shiloh Walker

  Why the hell did you do it, Rita?

  Why didn’t I see this coming?

  Why didn’t I get to you sooner?

  Why didn’t I just go home with you that night?

  Dozens of questions, and all of them boiled down to why.

  Even worse, there were no answers.

  Rita had danced with depression before, had even once tried to kill herself. But Adam had been pretty good at seeing when she was sliding down that edge again. Yes, she had even more of a reason that day than any other, but to just up and end it, so fast?

  Why?

  It just wouldn’t settle in his mind.

  Of course, his mind was jumbled, too full of questions that had no answers, worries and fears that he just couldn’t calm no matter how hard he ran, no matter how far, how fast. Only half of that chaos came from Rita.

  He kept seeing Lana’s face in his mind. Her face. The scars on her body. The scars on her soul that he had glimpsed in her eyes. Twenty years of her life, all but stolen from her.

  She’d run. She’d lied to him. He’d lied for her.

  But not because she’d wanted to. And it was all for nothing. There had to have been a better way. Maybe the kids they’d all been couldn’t see any other option, but he wasn’t a kid anymore and he knew there had to be other ways. She was too close to it, even now. It was possible she couldn’t see any other way, but it had to exist.

  His mind spun in circles as he chased the sun and eventually ran himself out, circling back around until he ended up back up on his street, walking until his heart slowed, his muscles like jelly and his hands curled into impotent fists.

  Even after his heart had gone back to normal, he couldn’t go inside. Instead he moved into the cool, quiet shade of the backyard, staring up at the house, waiting for some of the turmoil to ease.

  The door opened and Lana was there.

  A different sort of turmoil settled inside him and he clenched his jaw.

  Instead of turning away, he nodded at her and figured the best thing to do would be head inside, shower, change, then get the hell out of the house.

  It was, really, a good, sensible plan.

  Her soft grey eyes met his and he started toward her, too aware of her, the way she watched him, the dark hair she’d woven into a braid, the glasses she didn’t need perched on her nose.

  He wanted to pull them off, crowd her up against the door and strip her naked. After he’d brought her to climax, when she was weak and whimpering and still panting from him, he’d see if he couldn’t get her to talk. It was dirty and sneaky as hell and he was just fine with that if it would finally get him answers.

  Oh, he had some answers … like why she’d been gone. She’d stayed gone because she was protecting David, and that was typical Lana.

  But Adam wanted more.

  Why had she come home now?

  What was she hoping to accomplish?

  Was she going to leave again?

  Had she missed him?

  Did she want him?

  As he reached the door, she edged out of his way. He caught the scent of her, something soft and gentle, like wildflowers and rain. He wanted to press his face to the curve of her neck and find out just where that scent came from.

  Instead, he brushed past her.

  Behind him, Lana shut the door.

  “There were about ten calls while you were gone.”

  “Only ten?” He turned the cold water on and bent over, drinking straight from the faucet. The muscles in his legs were quivering and he thought maybe he should have something to eat, sit down. He didn’t think he’d eaten breakfast. Or dinner. He was bad about that when he was pissed off or stressed. The past few days, he’d been in that state of mind a lot.

  Lana showing up. Rita dying.

  “Margaret Troyer called several times.”

  He pulled away from the tap and looked at Lana.

  “She called eight times.” Lana grimaced and added, “She left messages, warned you not to dare show your face at the funeral.”

  “That’s restraint for her.” He shrugged and turned the water off.

  Lana opened a cabinet and pulled out a glass. “You know, you have a good dozen of these. They hold water. They are useful.”

  “Yeah, but then I have to wash them.” He grabbed a towel from the little hook hanging by the window and dried his face off before he turned to look at her. “The other two calls?”

  She nibbled on her lower lip. “One was a cop. Ah, Detective Bell.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll catch up with her in town at some point.”

  “If cops are going to be nosing around here, I need to find someplace else to go.”

  Everything inside him screamed at the idea.

  No.

  “No.” It burst out of him before he could stop it and she whipped her head around to stare at him.

  Clearing his throat, he shrugged and moved over to the cabinet. He wasn’t thirsty now, but he’d drink if it distracted her, kept her focused on something other than the cop. Running some water into the cup, he drained it and then rinsed it out, taking his time on each little detail as he formulated a response. “It’s not like you can check into a hotel or anything,” he pointed out. “And your dad’s house has been sold. You don’t have a lot of options, right?”

  She lifted a brow. “I’ll figure something out. I don’t need the cops to know I’m here just yet.”

  “And when are you going to let people know you’re here?” he asked softly. Putting the cup in the dish rack, he crossed over to her and touched her cheek. “Lana, you’ve been here almost a week and all you do is sit inside my house and poke around online. Just what are you doing here? Why did you come home?”

  * * *

  His eyes bored into hers and she opened her mouth, the words hovering on the tip of her tongue.

  How could she tell him that she just didn’t know why she was here, what she was doing?

  She needed to have some sort of answer. Some sort of game plan. She’d come down here to set things straight, and she was slowly trying to make connections, vague names from her memory to those people still in town. She needed to talk to people, but whom did she trust? Besides Adam, she didn’t know.

  Licking her lips, she shifted on her feet and glanced up.

  He was staring at her mouth.

  Her heart stuttered to a stop, her breath catching in her throat as their gazes locked.

  “Fuck, Lana,” he muttered.

  And then he lowered his head, his mouth slanting over hers, his hands pushing into her hair.

  Well, that was one plan she could get on-board with. That one night kept replaying itself over and over in her mind and now it was a fever in her blood, something that was turning into an obsession.

  He was turning into an obsession.

  His body was hot against her own, his chest damp and sweaty under the ragged T-shirt, his skin furnace hot. She wanted to peel his clothes away, then her own, and press up against him, have him press her against whatever surface was available and then push inside. Hot, hard and fast. Anything to ease the ache inside her.

  Groaning, she slid her arms around his waist, skimming her hands under the hem of his shirt. When she found his skin, silken smooth and hot, she sank her nails into it.

  He hissed against her mouth and nipped at her tongue.

  That only made it worse and an ache settled deep down inside, panging inside her womb, a hungry, needing little beast that was going to drive her mad.

  He caught her face and angled her head up and to the side as he ran his mouth down her neck. “You want to drive me mad,” he muttered. “That’s just all there is to it.”

  “We can go mad together,” she said, trying to breathe around the raging ball of want inside her.

  “Sounds like a plan.” He leaned back, grabbed the hem of her shirt.

  “Good plan.” She started to strip his away.

  The little clicking sound didn’t register at first. N
ot right away. Even the light breeze dancing across her flesh didn’t entirely click. Not until Adam looked away.

  She followed his gaze. And her heart jumped up into her throat and lodged there.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The side door was where everybody came and went at the Brascum household. It had always been that way, and even though Noah hadn’t known the older Brascums well, he was close enough with Adam that he was in and out of this house often enough that it felt like a second home.

  He hadn’t knocked and just then, as he stood there, staring, he realized that was an oversight on his part.

  His gaze bounced off the brunette at first—there was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t place her face, not at first. His gaze moved to Adam’s and Noah grimaced, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, an awkward apology forming on the tip of his tongue.

  Adam stared at him, his dark eyes intent and focused.

  “Ah … sorry,” Noah said, forcing the words out.

  Both of them just continued to stare.

  And they were so quiet, so damn quiet.

  They had dual expressions of shock on their faces and Noah looked from Adam back to the woman, and this time his eyes lingered on her face.

  “I…” The word lodged in his throat as they continued to look at him.

  She backed away from Adam, her motions jerky and erratic, her gaze locked on Noah’s face. She went to smooth her shirt down, looking down at the floor for a second before her gaze bounced back up to meet his.

  Grey eyes.

  Haunted and beautiful.

  Those eyes—

  Noah’s blood started to roar, thrumming in his ears, so loud and fast.

  “Noah,” Adam said, his voice low and intent as he cut in front of the woman.

  Noah had been backing out of the room, but now he took a step forward, then another, barely even aware of Adam. The woman shot Noah another look and he felt his heart slam into his chest, adrenaline crashing through him, hard and fast.

  Two decades fell away and he could see that mischievous grin on the face of the girl he loved, the way her eyes glinted as he cupped her face in his hands.

  “Just what are you up to now?”

  “Nothing.” She stared up at him, her face the picture of innocence.

  “Uh-huh.” Dipping his head, he pressed his brow to hers. “You don’t lie very well. Especially not to me.”

  She poked out her lip. “I lie just fine. You just don’t accept my bullshit the way others do.” Lana reached up and pressed her finger to his lower lip. “Look … I just…” She shrugged. “I just have something I need to do, okay? Something I need to do…”

  Now those words echoed in his ears.

  Something I need to do …

  Adam tried to block him, but Noah pushed past him, staring at the woman who’d once been the girl he’d loved.

  Lana …

  “Noah, damn it. Just—”

  He couldn’t think. He just couldn’t think. Shooting out a hand, he caught the glasses she wore and tugged them off her face. And now, without those masking her features, he could see her plainly.

  Lana stared at him and the world that had seemed so steady and secure just a few minutes ago was shaking under Noah’s feet. That hole that had narrowed down almost into invisibility swelled up, like the giant mouth of a monster, gaping wide for him to topple straight inside.

  Spinning away, he hurled the glasses down on the table and stared at the door. For a long moment, he couldn’t do anything. And then, because he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, he just strode out.

  * * *

  Lana, shaken, stared at the door as it slammed shut behind Noah.

  She was no longer the girl he’d loved; some part of her wished she were. And there was nothing in her that had wanted to see him hurt.

  “I need to talk to him,” she whispered, passing a shaking hand over the back of her mouth.

  But when she went to go after him, Adam caught her shoulders. “Not a good idea,” he said, squeezing.

  She jerked away from him. “I have to—” She stopped and just stared dully at the door. She had to what? Tell Noah exactly what she’d told her father? Nothing? Too many of the secrets she knew just weren’t hers to share. Tell Noah that she was sorry? Talk about empty words. She was sorry, but if she had to do the same thing, in the same circumstances, she might make the same choice. Well, with the exception of making sure she took the sons of bitches down with her this time.

  But what could she say?

  There was nothing she could offer him.

  Adam cupped her cheek and she looked up at him. “You can’t have anybody seeing you yet,” he said. He cocked an eyebrow and waited. “Unless you’re ready to come out of hiding.”

  “I…” She stopped and blew out a breath. “Yeah. I have to find somebody and I haven’t had any luck doing it and until I find him … well. It’s not going to be easy to do it if I end up arrested.”

  “How likely is that?”

  She just stared at him.

  Adam groaned and shoved the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. “Okay. For now, you stay here. I’m going after Noah.”

  “I feel like I should be the one doing that.”

  “Oh, you should be.” He dropped his hands and stared at her. “And don’t worry; you still have plenty of explaining to do and I haven’t forgotten that.” Then he shook his head as he started for the door. “The first thing, though, I need to make sure Noah doesn’t go telling anybody he saw you.”

  “Is…” She winced. “Is he likely to do that?”

  “No. But then again, he’s never been sucker punched like that.” He lingered another moment, lifted a hand to cup her cheek. Eyes intent on her face, he pressed his thumb to her lower lip and dragged it across the swell.

  Heat gathered like a storm inside her and then he moved in, replaced his thumb with his mouth, soft at first, like he wasn’t sure of his welcome. She sighed against him, unable to pull away, unable to even think of it. When she opened for him, he banded his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, so that not even air separated them. The heat of his body was shocking and she wanted to curl around him, rub against him like a cat. His mouth ate at hers, his tongue stroking, teasing, tasting … and then she was back on her feet while he put distance between them. “This isn’t done,” he said as he turned away. “You know that.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  So she didn’t bother answering.

  The door banged shut behind him as she sagged against the counter.

  She was in so far over her head. And not just because of what happened twenty years ago.

  * * *

  Everybody had a place, that one spot they went to when the entire world had just been ripped away.

  Adam’s spot was the path along the river.

  Noah’s was in the park. He liked hiking up to one of the more secluded waterfalls and he’d stay there until the park rangers basically kicked him out. Adam wasn’t particularly happy about dragging his tired ass down one of those trails after his run, but as he pulled into the spot next to Noah’s truck, he knew there wasn’t much choice.

  Noah was already on the trail, and if Adam wanted to talk to him, he was going to have to catch up to him.

  This really wasn’t the kind of talk people had on a cell phone.

  It wasn’t really the kind of talk people had anywhere as far as Adam was concerned. Just how did he approach this?

  He didn’t know, and in the thirty minutes it took to catch up to Noah, no bright, shining revelations slammed into him, either. Of course, it might be easier to think about if he didn’t still have the taste of Lana on his lips, if he wasn’t still feeling the sweet weight of her breasts against his chest, the strong, determined grip of her hands on his shoulders as she wound herself around him.

  He found himself facing Noah with absolutely no idea what to say. That turned out to be okay, because be
fore he even had a chance to catch his breath, Noah slammed him up against one of the massive, mossy rocks that had fallen away from the cliffs hundreds of years ago. Staring into Noah’s haggard face, Adam stood there, passive and unresisting. Waiting.

  “How long have you known?” Noah demanded. His hands fisted in Adam’s shirt and he shook him. “How long?”

  “Just a few days,” Adam said softly.

  “Don’t lie to me!”

  “I’m not.” He reached up and closed his hands around Noah’s wrists, squeezed. “I’d lie to a lot of people, Noah, but I wouldn’t lie to you. I didn’t know until I saw her down at the river. She just came back a couple of days ago; I swear.”

  Angry, confused eyes stared at him.

  Then, just as swiftly as Noah had grabbed him, Noah turned away. Without saying a word, he dropped to the ground, harsh, ragged breaths coming out of him.

  * * *

  The logical thing to do was stay inside.

  Lana knew that.

  She didn’t give a damn.

  She’d already screwed up, hurting the last person on earth she’d ever wanted to hurt.

  Now, before she could do anybody else any damage, she needed to find the man she’d come back here to find.

  Nothing could change until she could talk, but those secrets … they weren’t hers to share and she needed to know if he’d kept the video.

  She almost called for the information she needed, but paranoia had been her constant companion over the years and in the end she decided she’d make her request in person. Other than what had had happened with Noah, she was actually pretty damn good at evading notice, and she figured she could get to where she needed to be without being seen.

  She should have done it the first day she’d seen him—no, the first day she’d arrived—but the shock of seeing Adam, her father, the shock of being home … all of it. She’d taken a few days to hit her stride, but enough was enough.

  She hit her small cache of clothes and changed, going with yet another pair of baggy, wrinkled pants that hung too loose on her hips, a skintight bodysuit and a baseball cap she pulled down low over her face. The clothes were dark, leaving her looking paler than she really was, and she hunted down the glasses, putting them on before she left.