A Touch of Scarlet

by Liz Talley

  Adam felt his stomach sour.

  He hadn’t known. Or he hadn’t wanted to know. Hadn’t wanted to know she’d been doing more than biding her time with a small-town police chief. What had grown between them was about more than sex. More than friendship. More than admiration. And Scarlet had embraced it. Felt it.

  Just like he did.

  Adam looked at John. He gave a slight shake of his head—clearly not willing to touch this situation. Adam couldn’t blame him. Scarlet had heartbreak written all over her and, this time, it wasn’t John’s fault. It was Adam’s.

  Scarlet looked so beautiful, almost like a princess, as she tried not to break down. Sleeping Beauty…with a broken heart.

  He did the only thing he could think of.

  He became her prince.

  And he kissed her.

  SCARLET HAD BEEN THINKING about the least painful way to die when she felt someone move above her.

  Adam.

  His hands slid up her cheeks, smudging the stupid tears that had escaped, mixing them with something she must have fallen in, something with pickles in it. They threaded a bit painfully through her braided hair, tugging a bit at her temple. She opened her eyes as he lowered his head.

  His lips met hers.

  “Oh,” she said against his lips, but she didn’t stop him. It felt too good. He tasted like lemon pie and his lips were soft and sweet. He kissed her the way he’d looked at that stupid Sophie. Tender. Romantic.

  Scarlet felt his kiss all the way to her toes. She was certain little chill bumps had broken out on her body.

  She lifted herself on her elbows and kissed him back.

  In the back of her mind, she knew they shouldn’t be lying in the parlor of a seniors’ center, kissing as though they were starved for love. But the knowledge wasn’t enough to stop her from drinking Adam in, reveling in his mouth on hers. She wasn’t turned-on, though it could easily shift that way if she opened her mouth a bit.

  No, this was something…wonderful.

  Then it ended.

  “Are you giving her mouth to mouth?” a voice asked, breaking into Scarlet’s subconscious and ripping her from the world she and Adam had created.

  Adam jerked his head up. “No.”

  Scarlet felt heat suffuse her cheeks. Was she blushing? She never blushed. She looked at the man who had interrupted their intimate moment. At least somewhat intimate since John had been witness to the whole melodrama.

  The man looking at them wore khaki trousers and a golf shirt, but had a commanding sort of presence. Totally a doctor.

  “She fainted,” Adam said, rising and offering his hand to the man. “I think she’s okay, but you might want to check her out.”

  The man took Adam’s spot on the edge of the settee. “Hi, Ms. Rose, I’m Dr. Patterson. Let’s check you out.”

  Scarlet shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  The door to Tucker House flew open and Rayne skidded in, followed by her assistant, Meg, and Meg’s boyfriend, Bubba Malone. “What the hell is going on?”

  No one said anything.

  Finally, John leaned forward. “Scarlet fainted and this guy gave her mouth to mouth.”

  “What?” Rayne looked at Scarlet then Adam. Then she looked at John, whose hands dangled off his knees. The sight of the red mark on his cheek should have made Scarlet feel bad, but it didn’t. He’d deserved it. Thirteen months of pain had driven her fist. Not in the least ladylike, but Scarlet had never been one for decorum.

  Rayne turned on John. “Who are you? And why would Adam give mouth to mouth? Did she stop breathing?”

  Dr. Patterson stopped his whispered counting. “Not the medical kind of mouth to mouth. The fun kind. Your sister passed out.”

  “I’m John Hammerstein.” John stood and offered his hand. Rayne took it, but didn’t look interested. She was more focused on Adam, who had the appearance of a kid caught raiding her cookie jar.

  Everyone exchanged looks, before finally landing on the doctor, who was busy trying to get the timer on his diver’s watch to work. Meg and Bubba shifted their feet and inched toward the door. Discomfort was the name of the game. Scarlet felt she’d fallen into a sitcom. All they needed was a hipster doofus to skid into the room and crash into the piano in order the break the tension.

  Scarlet took in a deep breath.

  “Relax,” Dr. Patterson said, pressing an insistent hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t want to lie back. It felt too vulnerable, and after all that had occurred, she didn’t want to be lying down when the shit hit the fan.

  Because it would.

  She’d fainted into something squishy and picklely.

  She’d slugged her ex in front of the whole town.

  And Adam had kissed her in front John and Dr. Patterson…who felt obliged to share the 411 with her sister. Not to mention Bubba and Meg.

  Dr. Patterson grabbed her wrist and started taking her pulse again.

  “Scarlet had a little episode, but she seems fine now.” Adam looked less guilty and more determined to control the situation.

  Scarlet was glad he felt better about things because she certainly did not. She’d allowed her emotions to boil over and ruin the agreement she and Adam had…the one where they kept their feelings for each other under lock and key.

  “So why did you kiss her?” Rayne kneeled beside the sofa and pushed Scarlet’s hair back to study her eyes. “Are you okay? Do you feel lightheaded?”

  Scarlet shrugged off her sister’s ministrations. “I’m fine. Totally fine.”

  “Is she okay?” Rayne asked the doctor.

  “I can’t be absolutely certain without running tests, but her color is good and her pulse is normal.”

  Scarlet pushed her sister away and stood. Her legs felt a bit shaky, but she could stand just fine. She waited for Adam to say something, but his expression was shuttered. He was in take-charge mode. Or clean-up-in-aisle-Scarlet mode.

  “Adam?” she whispered, very aware everyone wanted the answer to Rayne’s earlier question. She could feel their curiosity. What had the good-as-gold police chief and the bad-girl actress been up to? How long had they been getting it on? Why would he risk his career for a woman who would be gone before the first cold front came through East Texas?

  He smiled, then shrugged. “I’m no saint.”

  Rayne shook her head, making her corkscrew curls fly around her shoulders. “What’s going on here?”

  “Come on, Rayne,” Scarlet said. “You know I love a challenge. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to seduce this man? If I had known fainting would do the trick, I’d have hit the pavement a week ago.”

  “Well, hell, Summer Rose,” Bubba Malone said in a deadpan tone. “If you needed a kiss that badly, I’da done you a solid.”

  Meg elbowed him in the gut, causing him to grunt, but Adam didn’t move. His unflinching gaze held Scarlet’s. She was the first to cut eye contact.

  “This one was hard to break. Thought I’d have to pull the ol’ catsuit out of the closet and play Veronica to get him to notice me.” She rubbed her sweating hands against her denim short shorts, unwilling to risk glancing at Adam in case the truth—that she’d screwed up the moment she put her bare foot on the town square—was plain on her face.

  Bubba chortled. “Well, if you ain’t using that catsuit, can Meg borrow it? I’ve got this fantasy where—”

  Meg reached up and twisted her boyfriend’s ear.

  “Ow!” Bubba hollered, swatting at her hand.

  “Pardon this hick for a moment. I need to remind him of the manners his mother taught him, and I think you guys need some privacy. Come on, Brandon.” Meg tugged on Bubba’s arm and they escaped to the front porch, where Scarlet could see Adam’s date sitting on the steps.

  Guilt crept around the corner of Scarlet’s conscience.

  Sophie was probably a nice girl, but Scarlet wasn’t as nice. She didn’t want someone so pretty, thin and, well, so good to have Adam. If any man needed a lit
tle kinky in his life, it was him. He wore pristine running shoes, a tucked-in T-shirt and not one strand of hair was out of place. Here was a man who needed a little mussing up in his life. He needed…

  Her.

  She pretended to crack her knuckles. “Well, I guess my mission here is accomplished. Now, who else can I go out there and seduce? Who is the man least likely to want me?”

  “Harvey Primm,” Rayne drawled, tilting her head. Scarlet knew her sister was in the process of making connections, drawing conclusions and creating a game plan for dealing with Scarlet, her ex-lover and her not-yet-but-she’d-really-like-him-to-be-next lover.

  “Good idea. I’ll work on Harvey next.”

  “Well, you might have some success,” Dr. Patterson said. “I heard from Rita Frasier over at the library that the old man asked for a copy of the book and she saw him reading it in his car.”

  Scarlet faked a brittle smile. Inside she felt a little sick and a lot scared because she and Adam had blown it. Her little charade had fooled no one. “Then maybe I can loan Meg my catsuit after all.”

  Rayne put her hands on her hips. “You can stop with the whole acting thing. Everyone can see what’s going on here.”

  “Well, if you’ve got a handle on it, I wish you would share it with me because I don’t know my up from my down anymore,” Scarlet said, feeling better, stronger and not willing to deal with her sister’s admonishments. “And did I hear right? Did Meg just call Bubba Brandon?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JOHN HAD REMAINED virtually silent throughout the melodrama. Scarlet didn’t blame him. After the way she’d hit him, she was surprised he’d stuck around. But he had to have good reason to be there. No man left New York City and traveled over a thousand miles merely to say hello to an old lover.

  “John?” Scarlet said, ignoring the others. The place smelled like roses and baking bread, which should have relaxed everyone, but no one seemed to be soothed by the smells nor the comfortable, old-fashioned parlor. “We need to talk.”

  She glanced at Adam, who spoke quietly with an elderly lady wearing an American-flag shirt and a sun visor. He caught her gaze and gave an imperceptible nod, and it felt as if a guiding hand pushed her John’s way. She had to deal with the past that had cropped up before she could move on to Adam and her future.

  If there was one.

  John stood close by, watching her with wariness in his eyes. He seemed so out of place in his Gucci loafers and stylish linen pants. He’d lost a good deal of weight, but it didn’t look bad on him. He appeared older, but it had been over a year since she set eyes on him.

  “Do you mind going outside?”

  He took in all the people covertly studying him under the guise of chitchat. “That would probably be best.”

  “Y’all can go out back, sugar,” the older woman said. “Plenty of places to talk away from prying eyes.”

  Everyone watched as she and John left, moving through the dining area, into the kitchen and finally out the back door. The backyard of Tucker House, peppered with bird feeders, large potted plants and benches, was fairly secluded. Scarlet waved John toward a stone bench near a wooden garage.

  “I’m sorry I hit you,” she said quietly, glad the grass was lush and thistle free. “You didn’t deserve that. Well, maybe you did, but I still shouldn’t have done it.”

  “I deserved it.”

  She pressed her lips together, smearing the leftover lip gloss. “What are you doing in Oak Stand?”

  “I came for the picnic,” he said with a wry smile.

  She didn’t answer. Simply lowered herself onto the bench, still a bit unsteady. He took her elbow.

  “Thank you,” she said. John had always been solicitous, taking her under his wing long before he’d taken her into his bed. He’d been a mentor, a sort of father figure, and she’d wondered many times over the past year if that had been her fascination with him. He’d given her something she’d never had.

  Oh, she loved her father. Both her parents loved her, had given her gifts many parents could not give their children. They’d given her room to grow and flourish in any spot she so chose. But they hadn’t given her much stability.

  John had been her stability, grounding her, advising her and protecting her.

  “I’m sorry I surprised you like I did,” he said, settling beside her and plucking a blade of grass from the planter next to the bench. He twirled it between his fingers. “I tried to call your phone. I even called your aunt’s inn.”

  “Not so good with my phone. And I’ll be honest. I erased your message without listening to it.”

  “I’m not surprised. I handled things badly.”

  She sighed. “No, you didn’t handle them at all.”

  “Touché,” he muttered, moving to take her hand, but she shifted away. She didn’t want him to touch her so intimately. Those days were long over. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she knew she no longer loved John. If she did, she would have been overjoyed to see him, despite her anger with him. She’d felt nothing. Nothing but shock that he’d turned up in the middle of a world he had no business in.

  “So do you hate me now?” he asked, splitting the blade of grass and tossing pieces of it onto the ground at his feet.

  “No, of course not.”

  He smiled. “You wouldn’t. You’re a good person though you sometimes allow people to think the worst of you. Like that little sham with the police chief.”

  She flinched. “What do you mean?”

  “Come now, Scarlet. It was evident to everyone in that room he is head over heels for you. To pretend you’d been trying to seduce him was akin to saying the sky is falling. Total falsehood.”

  She looked up at the cerulean sky. “But the truth is, he hasn’t touched me. We’ve shared one kiss, now two. But that is all. So there was truth in what I said. He’s a man of character.”

  “That may be, but he still wants you.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Ah, you want to avoid talk of the chief?”

  She met his gaze with a hard one of her own. “Not any of your business, John. Instead, why don’t you tell me how it is you’re sitting here after a year of silence.”

  “I’ve been seeing a good therapist, and she helped me realize I’ve been grossly unfair to you. I never told you the truth about why I ended our relationship.”

  “It took a therapist for you to see what a shit you were? Why come all the way to Texas to tell me that?”

  His face held no expression, but tenderness crept into his eyes. “Scarlet, your anger is not unexpected. I hurt you, but I want you to know I did it out of love.”

  “What a bunch of crap. This is a different version of ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’”

  “No, I loved you. That’s no lie. But, eventually I realized I held you back.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously? That’s your excuse for dumping me after screwing my brains out the night before? You wanted to set me free?”

  “Jesus, Scarlet.”

  “The truth isn’t glossy and pretty.”

  “That’s not accurate.” He paused a moment. “Or maybe it’s only half-accurate.”

  The silence pressed down on them.

  “I was sick, and I was scared.”

  “Sick? What do you mean?”

  He sighed and clasped his hands between his open knees. “You remember that night in Central Park? We danced under the trees and talked about going to Italy.”

  “It was a beautiful night.”

  “It was,” he said. “The next day I went to the doctor. I’d been having some pain in my ribs—a nagging that wouldn’t go away. They did some tests and found a mass. I had bone cancer.”

  “Oh, my God, John,” she said, touching his arm. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t—”

  “I intended to.” He gave her a sad smile. “You met me at that coffeehouse, remember?”

  How could she forget? She’d been wear
ing a new sundress, one she’d bought for their trip. Later, she’d stripped it off and thrown it in the trash. “I remember.”

  “You were brimming with plans. Hiking in Trentino. Dancing in Rome. You talked nonstop about everything we’d do. And I listened to you, watched you. So young. You deserved those things, those experiences. You didn’t deserve to have to watch me get ill from chemo or traipse around Manhattan with a shrunken, bald man.”

  Scarlet felt anger creep alongside the pity. “You didn’t give me a choice in the matter, did you? You broke things off and—”

  “No, I didn’t give you that choice. That was wrong of me.”

  “You made me think I was unlovable. That’s what you gave me. Not a choice. A death sentence to a woman who thought she was in love for the first time in her life.”

  “I thought I was saving you from pain. From hurt. I thought I was freeing you.”

  She plucked a blade of grass and tore it until little remained, much as John had done earlier. The bits scattered around her bare feet, a symbol of their relationship. Torn, scattered, not destined to be whole again. “But you weren’t.”

  “That’s why I came here. I needed to tell you. I thought I was being selfless, but Monica helped me see I wasn’t being fair. You deserved the truth. You deserved to make your own decision about your life. I needed to fix things with you before I could move on in my life. So I came to Texas.”

  She nodded, her heart conflicted, a regular occurrence these days. She wanted to be angry, hold fast to the bitterness that had been her constant companion for many months. Somehow it didn’t seem to matter as much as it had weeks ago. Somehow the gash in her heart had been healed. “You protected me.”

  He slid his hand along her arm. At one time it would have warmed her, but now she felt nothing. “I always wanted the best for you.”

  She studied his tanned hand against the fairness of her arm. She’d loved him once. But no longer. Her heart had moved on before she even realized it, and filled itself with tender new feelings for Adam. “I can forgive you, John, because I no longer carry that burden of heartache. I won’t lie. It hurt, but I’m in a new place in my life. I can’t go back.”