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Until the Tequila: A Killers Crossover Novella

Page 4

by Brynne Asher


  July seems to be contemplating just how trustworthy I might be. “Mary loves Addy. I’m almost jealous because, even though Mary moved away years ago, I miss her.”

  I cock my head and start putting things together. “You’re from Tennessee?”

  “Yes. From the outskirts of Nashville. I met Mary through my sisters and even though I’m a little older, we were inseparable. She’s close with my whole family, but Mary and I are tight.”

  “Last night Mary opened up about something from her past and I can tell she’s worried. You know anything about that?”

  “Evan,” she calls for me even though I’m right here and she knows it. “You’re there and are able to watch out for her. I’m here and have all the information. I think we might need each other.”

  I look to the closed bedroom door and wonder what the hell is going on with the sleeping woman behind it. I think I might’ve just found my in with Mary.

  “Accidental allies,” I state. “Tell me what I need to know. I’m willing to do whatever’s necessary to pave the road for her and me.”

  Her tone turns sing-songy. “That’s so sweet. I can’t wait to tell her that.”

  I think about this afternoon when I had her bared to me. “Trust me. She knows. Now, tell me everything.”

  And Mary’s friend with the strange name proceeds to blow my mind.

  7

  BARREL-OF-MONKEYS KIND OF FUN

  Mary

  I WAKE UP in my own bed without a hangover.

  Look at me, winning at life.

  I am, however, still in the same clothes I wore last night. And next to me is my cell phone and a handwritten note folded into a tent on my pillow with my name scribbled across the front.

  After I rub my eyes, I unfold it.

  It’s six in the morning. Yeah, I stayed all night. I didn’t want to wake you and, for the second night in a row, I enjoyed watching you sleep. Call me creepy, I don’t give a shit. I learned a lot while you were snoozing away last night. I also drank all your Diet Coke and checked your schedule book. I know you work today, so I’ll be back tonight at seven. I’m bringing you a case of Diet Coke so you don’t fall asleep on me again. We’re going to talk about Tennessee, your fucking jackass of a father, and then you’re going to pack a bag because you’re not staying in your apartment any longer until we know where he is. You only have a double bed. I have a queen. I win.

  By the way, you’re just as beautiful when you sleep as you are when you’re glaring at me and as you are when you’re naked and moaning for me.

  Don’t make me wait.

  Evan

  One thing is certain—the man is verbose.

  Another thing that is even more certain—I will not be in my apartment at seven o’clock.

  And damn him for drinking all my Diet Coke!

  TWELVE HOURS HAVE passed. The clock is hanging over my head like a ticking time bomb. I know Evan works in the tasting room until six every day and sometimes stays later.

  I called July while my client’s highlights were processing and she spilled the beans about how she spilled all the beans to Evan while I slept. She told me the whole thing and showed no remorse because, in her words, “Your fucking father found out where you live. Some skank at the bar told Mic who told Harlen who called Wes right away and informed him that Duane Giesen jumped into a creaky old Chevy with rusted out bumpers and headed east.”

  I told her I couldn’t believe my childhood friend betrayed me by spilling all my dirty laundry to a stranger, to which she replied, “I love Evan! I can’t wait to meet him. He made me promise that Wes and I would visit soon and he said he’d take care of our accommodations. I’m so mad that you didn’t tell me how amazing he is. I feel so much better after talking to him last night. I know he’s going to do everything he can to watch out for you.”

  See? Total betrayal.

  Then I got a call from Addy and, after she made an appointment for a Keratin treatment, she basically chewed my ass for holding out on her about my father looking for me. Of course, blabbermouth Evan told her everything. She’s so sweet, she actually made me feel bad that I hadn’t told her sooner. Before we hung up, I had apologized and promised that if I didn’t feel safe, I’d come and stay in her guestroom since she has about two million of them in her big-ass farmhouse.

  Great. On top of having to avoid Evan, and how I feel bad about Addy, I’m annoyed that July is so happy for me. But I can’t help but wonder what accommodations Evan was talking about.

  I’m exhausted.

  I look up at the clock and wish I could turn into a pumpkin when I see it click over to seven. I’ve stayed at the salon longer than necessary—I’ve swept and cleaned every station, washed and dried all the towels, and cleaned out my drawers. I hate staying late but, after my day, I’ll do anything to avoid Evan.

  My phone dings from across the room. I walk to my station, plop into my chair, and brace. When I open my messages, I’m right. It’s him.

  Evan – Why are you avoiding me?

  Me – I’m not. I’m at Addy’s. We’re making jelly.

  Wow. I’m really going to go to hell for lying so much.

  Evan – No you’re not. I just called Addy and she didn’t know where you were.

  Me – She’s too preoccupied with Crew. He’s totally into her. I’m with Bev and we’re in Addy’s kitchen cleaning rhubarb. You know we come and go as we want.

  Evan – Bullshit.

  Me – Look, I’m good for the night. I don’t know what my so-called best friend said to you, but she’s dramatic. Whatever it was, it’s not a big deal and I’m pretty sure she lied to you.

  Evan – It is a big deal. It’s a huge deal and I looked into your dad after what July told me last night. None of it’s good. It’s all really bad.

  I need to quit texting so I’ll quit lying.

  Me – I gotta go. We’re out of sugar and I need to run to the store.

  Evan – Bullshit.

  Me – No, it’s true. All out of sugar.

  Evan – Turn around.

  What?

  I put my toe to the floor and twirl my chair to find him standing at the door. He’s sliding his damn cell into his pocket and hits the glass with his flat, open palm. “Open the door.”

  I’m never going to get away from him.

  I get up, trudge across the room, and grab the keys off the desk. When I flip the lock and open the door, he doesn’t move. “You know, you’re a real killer to a guy’s confidence.”

  I shake my head and close my eyes. I’m done playing. And lying. When I open my eyes, I’m as serious as I’ve ever been when I beg, “Please, Evan. I can’t do this with you. Not right now. Whatever July told you today is true but she didn’t tell you everything because she doesn’t know everything. You don’t want to be with me. I know I look like I’m a barrel-of-monkeys kind of fun, but you’ll come to your senses eventually and I’m not sure if I can take that slap of reality. Not with you. I need you to stay my frenemy. Addy and all of you at the vineyard, you’re all I have here. If it gets weird between you and me, I’ll be the one to go because I’m already on the outside. I always have been and I always will be.”

  He holds the door that’s still standing open and, between his gaze and the evening air, I shiver.

  He lowers his voice and I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him so serious. “I’d never do that. Not to you, Mary.”

  I shake my head. “No, you wouldn’t do that on purpose because you’re the perfect, all-American guy with all the fireworks, but it could still happen. It is the way it is and we wouldn’t be able to stop it.”

  He holds out his hand. “Give me one night to change your mind. One night is all I need. Come with me.”

  I nibble on my bottom lip because he makes it seem so easy when everything is excruciatingly difficult. It always has been.

  “You have to give me a chance to prove it to you. I know you will because it’s who you are. It’s why I want you.”

&n
bsp; I sigh.

  “Open yourself up to me. I swear, you won’t regret it.” He means it because he’s good to the bone. I’ve watched him and, even after all the teasing and heckling to get my attention, I know it to be true.

  “Let me get my purse and lock up.”

  His face transforms. Not in arrogance because he’s gotten what he wanted. No.

  Evan Hargrove is relieved.

  I don’t know what he has planned but the man is smoother than a freshly-waxed upper lip. I certainly need to be on guard and definitely—most definitely—keep my clothes on.

  8

  MATCH MADE IN HELL

  Evan

  “ARE WE NOT going back to your apartment?”

  Keeping my eyes on the dark country road, I shake my head. “I’ve decided if I want the upper hand, I need to keep you on your toes and alert so we’re going on a field trip. I don’t need you sneaking off to take a nap.”

  She’s not getting away from me again. Now that I know what her problem is, I don’t want her at her apartment anyway. She didn’t pack a bag like I told her to, but that’s okay. I’ll have anything she could need where I’m taking her.

  All I know is I’m done fucking around with this cat-and-mouse shit. That’s over. Especially after our time in her kitchen yesterday. No way is she running away from me again.

  “I need to be home early. I have appointments first thing in the morning.”

  “Nice try. I’m on to you.” I glance over at her before I turn and pull up to the gate, rolling down my window. “I memorized your schedule. You don’t go in ‘til tomorrow afternoon.”

  She shakes her head. “I have another headache.”

  I can’t help but smile. She’s ridiculous. “How about I promise to make you ache in other places?”

  Her gaze jerks to me, her vibrant long hair flips across the back of her seat as she widens her eyes. I don’t know whether to laugh or kiss her.

  “Where are we?” she asks.

  I key in the code and wait for the gates to part. “My parents’ house.”

  “Evan, please. I don’t want to be here.”

  I pull through the heavily-secured entrance onto the property. “We’re not going to their house. I’m taking you to the barns. I still don’t know everything about your dad, but if it’s as bad as you make it out to be, he won’t find you here, not that he could step foot on this land, it’s so secure.”

  She doesn’t say a word but sits beside me looking so worried, you’d think I was driving her to the guillotine.

  “Relax, Mary. My parents aren’t home, not that we’d see them if you didn’t want to.” What I don’t tell her is they’re in the South of France for the next month. I park and move to get out. “I promise there won’t be any other humans in sight.”

  When I go around to open her door, she’s sitting there with her arms crossed and her leg bouncing with nervous energy. She’s biting her lip in a way that makes me jealous. I hold my hand out. “Come. It’ll be just you and me. I want to show you something.”

  She closes her eyes and sighs. “Okay, but you have to take me home tonight.”

  I don’t agree to that, shut her door, and take a second to enjoy the view as she walks ahead of me toward one of the barns. She’s downright tiny and her hair is so long, it swishes as she walks even pulled back. Her fine ass, that I’m now well acquainted with, fits in my hands like it was made for me, and makes me hungrier for her now more than ever.

  I grab her hand. “Had you not turned instantly wet for me yesterday, I might think you don’t like me.”

  “Can we not talk about that?” She doesn’t try to pull her hand from mine and a blush creeps up her fair skin. “Wow. I had no idea barns could be so fancy.”

  This farm has been in my family for three generations. Hargrove Farms is one of the largest thoroughbred breeders on the east coast. I lived here my whole life until I moved out for college, so I rarely think about the opulence I grew up around. Sliding the door open, I lead her through the bay with stalls on either side. “All barns probably smell the same, so I apologize for that.”

  We walk through the long aisle to my target. I let go of her long enough to slide open the door to the stall and we hear him before we see him—our newest foal born just last month.

  I go to his mom first and look back to Mary. “Come meet Narnia. She’s mine and so gentle, she was made to be a mom. She comes from impeccable blood lines. This is her ninth foal.”

  Mary approaches slowly. Since I doubt she’s been around horses before, I take her hand and lift it to Narnia’s forehead.

  “See?” I move behind Mary and wrap my arm around her. “Let her smell you and then she’ll trust you around her baby.”

  Mary strokes Narnia and, despite her actions earlier, leans into me and sighs. “I knew you came from a lot, but not all this.”

  I put my lips to her ear. “We’re not that different, you know.”

  Mary huffs and shakes her head. “Said the guy who grew up on an estate and is the son of a horse breeder.”

  The colt appears, dipping his head under his mother’s neck and nudges at us with his nose, giving us a nicker. Mary laughs for the first time since she was drunk and loose the other night. “He’s so cute. What’s his name?”

  “He’ll be given a formal name for the jockey club when he turns one. I’m sure he’ll earn a nickname as his personality develops.”

  The foal crowds Mary, nuzzling her, and I step back to watch. Standing there in her flip-flops and cut-off jean shorts, topped with a vintage Nirvana T-shirt, she might seem out of place. After last night, I know for a fact she’s worried about our worlds colliding. But I’ve never seen anyone I want more.

  I lean against the stall and stuff my hands in my pockets. “When I was five, my mom OD’ed on painkillers.”

  She turns her head, giving me her big blue eyes. “What?”

  I shrug. “I was the one who found her. She was lying naked on her bathroom floor. Luckily, the maid was there. I guess she’d been strung out for years but I was too young to know the difference. I figured everyone’s mom slept their days away. She spent years in and out of rehab. I got old enough to realize that wasn’t normal.”

  Mary’s face softens. “I’m so sorry.” She turns back to the foal who’s demanding her attention. “Why did you tell me that?”

  “You think we’re different. You think we don’t belong together. And, by the way, in your drunken state, you told me I wasn’t weird enough for you.”

  The foal grows bored, moves away, and Mary turns to face me. “Well, that wasn’t a lie. You’re like,” she throws her hand out to me, “barely weird at all. Whereas my weirdness is off the charts.”

  I push away from the wall and take her hand to pull her out of the stall. “You’re not weird. You’re colorful.”

  “Too colorful for you and your horses and your estate.”

  I secure the barn door and push her up against the wall. When I tip her head to me, her face is masked with everything I hate. Uncertainty. Dread. Fear. “I know about your past. July told me everything. Your dad’s an asshole and your mom died a meth head.”

  She grabs onto my shirt, but not to push me away. She hangs on tight as her eyes well. “I hate that you know that about me. I did everything I could to get away from that life and everyone who knew me then. I don’t tell anyone about that part of me.”

  “You are not them. You’re no more your mom than I am mine. My mom finally got better and beat it, but it doesn’t erase the past. We’re not our parents, Mary. We have no boundaries. No definitions of who we have to be. Not unless you lay those on us and, if you do, I’ll be pissed.”

  Her clear blue eyes gaze up at me and I can tell she’s trying to make a decision, though, in the end, I know there’s no choice. Not when she reacts the way she does. She wants this as much as I do, she just needs to quit fighting herself.

  I slide my hand under the hem of her T-shirt and tease her smooth skin, w
atching her face change by the second.

  She settles into my touch and her eyes fall as she shakes her head. “I don’t know. I have a feeling this isn’t a good idea.”

  I let my hand settle on her skin and grip her hip to get her attention. “Why do you think your dad is looking for you now? July explained that he’s bad news and told me about all the trouble he’s been in.”

  “I have no idea. He’s made a career of getting women hooked on anything they’d try. When they become desperate, he pimps them out and they’re happy to do it for their next fix. That’s what happened to my mom even though I barely remember her. Everyone who knew my mom was only too happy to inform me where I came from. Our worlds, Evan … they couldn’t be more different.”

  I move to kiss her and murmur against her lips, “That might be his world but it’s not yours.”

  She doesn’t turn away from my kiss. “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is.” I slide my hand up her back and pop the hook on her bra. “Don’t carry the weight of your father’s sins. I want you to stay here with me tonight. Just you and me. Tell me you don’t want it.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Evan.”

  “Guess I need to convince you.” I pull her bra away from her body and, just like in her kitchen, I cup her tit and give it a squeeze. Lust-driven, her lids fall heavy over her blue eyes and my dick swells.

  “Convince me of what?” she breathes.

  “That the idea of us could be the best thing that’s ever happened.”

  I kiss her and allow my tongue to invade her mouth. I’ve wanted her for so long. I took advantage of a talkative Mary the other night when she drank too much. I made her fess up about why she thinks we shouldn’t be together. It was then she told me bits of what her fucking parents put her through and July pieced the rest together. It’s nothing short of a miracle she survived that unscathed, let alone turned out as perfect as she is today.

  I let her mouth go and my fingers work the button on her shorts. “The other night you rambled on about dandelions.”

 

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