Audrey's Promise (8 page)

If the motel was any indication of the welcoming she’d receive in this town, she should shut the door and drive home now. The grocery store here was like the Galleria in Dallas. Women came here for their gossip and stopped off in the beauty salon for the rest. Audrey was about to give them enough gossip for the next year.

And in front of a newsman, no less. One determined to uncover the details.

Audrey stepped out of the car and gripped her purse. She followed Ethan and Adelaide to the automatic sliding doors and inhaled, plastering on her peacemaker face.

Let’s get this display over with.

Chapter Nine

As Audrey Allen trailed them into the grocery store, Ethan thought he saw fear in her hesitant eyes. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of anything. Forget that she clutched her bag like a life raft, she didn’t lead the pack into a room like her normal campaign routine. News conferences, public appearances, even when she assisted Congressman Nichols on the floor, she always entered through the door first. Except now.

The motel clerk’s open-armed welcome must have rattled her more than Ethan suspected. Hardly the kind of welcome expected for a Senate candidate on the campaign trail. Ethan couldn’t stop smiling as he walked into the grocery store.

Shit, this was going to be a fun weekend.

Adelaide skipped into the store ahead of him, waving to one of the two cashiers as she passed, and headed straight for the makeup aisle.
So this is what a Piggly Wiggly looks like.
Not an indoor pen for farm animals as the name suggested, but a six-aisled general store the size of a mainstream pharmacy. Well, five aisles. The sixth was strictly hunting gear and ammunition. Not the kind of store seen in Dallas. And definitely not in New York City.

Ethan stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for Audrey to catch up. What were they here for again? Something for her mother. Audrey strolled past without a word or glance.

Her perfume trailed in her wake and its sweetness matched perfectly with her sultry stride. Not that she knew it. Women like her were rare: not completely ignorant to their physique’s effect on a man’s senses, but clueless to its magnitude. No doubt Audrey knew to keep the make-up natural and the hair simple, but perhaps didn’t know how to accentuate her curves with the
right
clothing. But with Ethan’s trained eye on the female figure, his imagination on what Audrey hid underneath those political suits and oversized sweaters dripped with anticipation.

It took a moment for him to realize the store went quiet; no beeping registers, no chatting customers. Dead quiet.

Everyone’s eyes followed Audrey to the baking aisle, and no one smiled. It was as if the world had stopped to let Audrey shop.

Had they never seen a candidate before?
Ethan followed her, smiling at everyone and amused by the stunned faces, waiting for a punch line from someone.

Audrey surveyed the limited selection of flour. The way she stood with her arm on one curvy hip accentuated her slender waist. She looked great in a business skirt, but those legs were made for skinny jeans. Or nothing at all. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in wavy curls. An inkling of warmth spread through his veins at the thought of her curling her hair just for him. Who else did she need to impress?

“I’m impressed. Your entrances keep getting more entertaining.” Ethan grabbed a bag of marshmallows from the shelf. “They only sell one brand? How did you survive out here?”

“Simplicity has its advantages. Easier to keep the annoying press away.”

Ooh, touched a nerve there. What else can I touch?

“What’s wrong with the press? Am I too sweet for you?” He waited for her eyes to meet his and gave a devilish smile. He opened the bag of marshmallows and popped a few in his mouth.

Audrey rolled her eyes and grabbed a bag of flour. “You haven’t paid for those yet.” She turned around to swipe sugar from the shelf behind her. “And you’re more sour than sweet.”

“You think this whole bag would make me sweeter?”

Her mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile, but didn’t.
Does she allow herself any fun?
A light glimmered in one eye, proving she was capable of it, if she really wanted it.

“This entire aisle of sugar isn’t enough.”

A marshmallow sailed into the air and he caught it between his teeth. He tilted the opened bag toward her. She didn’t move. Just continued to watch him with those sapphire gems.

He grabbed another one and raised it to her mouth, a hair’s width from those moist lips. Not that this woman needed any more sweetness, but there was something about hand-feeding a woman. The anticipation. The trust. Foreplay.

Would she take the bait?

When he cocked an eyebrow at her, she tilted her head, never once taking her eyes off of him.

Those delectable lips never parted. She took the marshmallow between two fingers and tossed it back in the bag. “Let’s just get out of here,” she murmured.

“Aud.” Adelaide strolled down the aisle, holding two lip glosses in her hands, oblivious to everything else around her. “What shade do you like best, strawberry diamonds or plum paradise?” She held them out and pressed her lips together. Audrey barely gave them a glance.

“Either one, Addy. Let’s go.”

“But…you didn’t even look.”

“Plum paradise, definitely,” Ethan broke in. Adelaide’s eyes widened the exact way as her sister’s. He picked the plum paradise shade out of Adelaide’s hand and pretended to study it. “Strawberries are for little girls. Plums are more exotic.”

Adelaide’s blush matched her sister’s, too. It went straight up her cheekbones into her hairline. But Audrey was quicker at hiding hers.

“Look what the coyote dragged home,” a high-pitched voice drawled from the other side of the aisle.

Ethan and Adelaide turned simultaneously and focused on the short, skinny woman, clearly infatuated with dark make-up and cheap hair extensions. As if the longer the hair extensions the more it would make up for her short height, only accomplishing the opposite effect. With a small basket of groceries in one hand and a fake Louis Vuitton in the other, her sneer reminded him of a few nasty ex-girlfriends.

Sauntering down the aisle, her gaze moved from Audrey to Ethan and back again.

“Hi, Maria,” Audrey said with a sigh and weary smile.

“You think it’s a good idea to be back here?” Her voice was like fingernails down Ethan’s spine, and not the good kind. At least for once the hatred wasn’t directed toward him. Amazingly, it was all for Audrey. “Let alone with this handsome fella to take the brunt of your schemes.”

“Maria, this is Ethan Tanner, reporter from Dallas.” Audrey performed the obligatory introduction with little enthusiasm, but still wore her moderate peacemaker smile. “Ethan, Maria Gonzales. She and I went to high school together.”

“Pleasure.” Ethan held out his hand, despite the sugary powder on his fingers.

“It’s Maria Fuente, now.”

“Congratulations,” Audrey replied without losing her smile, and without feeling.

“You brought home a reporter?
You
?”

“Why does everyone keep asking that?” Adelaide interrupted no one in particular.

Maria threw Adelaide a glance and shook her head at Audrey. “You really think this is the best example you want to set for your little sister?”

“Addy is doing very well, thanks for asking.” Audrey replied. “Have a good Thanksgiving, Maria.”

Ethan stood dumbfounded, but had at least dropped his unshaken hand. The Peacemaker wasn’t glad-handing a potential voter or squashing this woman’s direct attack on her family.
What is wrong with her?

He normally loved watching Audrey Allen refute arguments in the middle of a debate or news conference in glorious fashion. To the point where opponents backed down within two questions and journalists lined out the door to make sure they recorded the legendary confrontations. But here she wasn’t putting up a fight. In her hometown. With attacks on her sister, no less.

“Eric, be sure to keep a safe distance from this…
woman
,”
Maria threw over her shoulder as Audrey walked away. “Lord knows what would happen to you given her history.”

“Maria.” Adelaide gave her the perfect teenage scowl. “Go shove one of your hideous hair extensions up your butt and mind your business.”

Ethan couldn’t help himself. The best way to “see the town” was get an inside look. “Maria, who will you vote for in the upcoming senate election?” He kept the best journalist tone in his voice, but could’ve guessed which way her answer leaned.
Let’s see how the strong candidate handles this one.

Maria studied Ethan, clearly confused. “Hadn’t thought about it.”

Liar.
She doesn’t have a clue there’s an election at all.

“Well, Audrey is running for a Senate seat. Is it safe to say she has your vote? Or will you be too busy fixing your hair?” Ethan popped another mallow in his mouth.

“Ethan.” The warning in Audrey’s voice was soft, but obvious.

“I wouldn’t help her if she were laying dead in the street!” Maria hissed with eyes flared. She spun around and stormed off, extensions shedding as she huffed away.

“That was uncalled for.” Audrey’s penitent eyes met his entertained gaze.

“Me? She was the one throwing insults at you.” This wasn’t a funny situation, but why did he have a hard time containing the laughter building in his chest?

“You baited her.”

“Come on, she was asking for it. That ridiculous make-up and hair? She looked like Prostitute Barbie.”

Adelaide laughed, her eyes almost gleaming. Audrey gave her an admonishing look and sighed.

“Why didn’t you defend yourself?” It was about time to ask Audrey the question she clearly didn’t want to hear. The serious words hung in the air as Audrey stared at him, with eyebrows lowered and sad lips. Something shifted in her eyes and it went straight to his heart. Regret? Annoyance? Fear?

But it slowly faded into a polite upturn of her mouth.

“It’s time to go.” Audrey turned on her heel and marched to the checkout counter.

Adelaide followed slowly, casting unsure glances between them.

Peacemaker face was back in place. This weekend grew more odd with every minute. He needed to get to a computer with Internet access, and fast. Everyone alluded to something about Audrey’s past, and Bose was right. Small towns were ripe for juicy dirt. The Internet had everything.

Audrey strolled to the register. Something ached in his gut as her cheeks swayed with every step. Bodies like hers were made for fantastic romps in the bedroom. Round, plump curves connected to legs longer than the Golden Gate Bridge. Legs that Ethan imagined wrapped around his waist and squeezing with wave after wave of pleasure.

Whoa.
Get it together, man.
Fantasies like that don’t belong in the middle of the grocery store when the goal is to expose Audrey Allen. A different kind of exposure.

The seasoned cashier was friendly to every customer, calling each by their first name as she scanned their goods. Amazing how small towns could remember everyone’s name. Ethan envied that ability. It didn’t take long for them to know not only names, but birthdays, favorite foods, and family quarrels. Of course they knew everyone’s dirty secrets and favorite sex positions, but they liked to be a little more discreet. But they still knew it. Ethan could tell by the little smirks on their faces.

Towns like this could write bestsellers with real stories.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Gladice,” Adelaide sang as she placed her lip gloss on the counter. Beauty queens were required to wear their winning smiles 24/7, and Adelaide had clearly mastered hers. Ethan noted it was the same smile as Audrey’s when she wasn’t negotiating political peace.

“Same to you, Miss Addy,” Gladice replied with a grandmother smile and started scanning. The white-haired woman glanced up at Audrey and Ethan, losing an inch of her smile. “Full house today?”

Audrey opened her mouth to speak but Adelaide answered for her. “Audrey’s finally home! You remember her, don’t you? She’s running for Senate. Not sure if you heard. Ethan here is a reporter and writing an article—”

“That’s nice, dear,” she muttered. Noticing the opened bag of marshmallows, she frowned and threw disapproving eyes at Audrey. “You’re supposed to pay for these before you open them.”

Oh, this could be fun. Would Audrey try to placate her, make excuses, or ignore it?

Ethan laughed when Audrey turned to him with a smirk, hand on her hip. “Would you care to answer Mrs. Covington, Ethan?”

God, the fire in Audrey’s eyes is begging for playtime.
It was clear this woman could hold her own in a fight. Suddenly, all he wanted was to fight with her.

Ethan reached into the bag that Gladice still held and popped another one in his mouth. “You’re the one who said I needed to be sweeter.”

Audrey’s smirk twitched into a smile for just a second. But she kept her gaze on Ethan’s grinning face. “More considerate wouldn’t hurt, either.”

Gladice scanned the opened package and bagged the items together, critical scowl still intact.

“Gladice, which way do you plan on voting in the upcoming election?”
Is this grandma as distrustful of all politicians as she clearly seems to be with Audrey?

The cashier fished out change from the register and set it on the counter, glowering. “My husband and I vote for the most deserving candidate…with the cleanest record.” Gladice glared at Audrey from across the counter, using her bitter eyes to convey her obvious message. Audrey wasn’t that candidate.

Audrey paused, absorbing Gladice’s answer before she picked up her change. Something in her posture changed—sunken shoulders, slightly lowered chin. Almost like a nonverbal apology.

Come on, Audrey. Show her you’re that deserving candidate, like I’ve seen you persuade others a hundred times. Answers like that warrant a come back, and you’re the Queen of Zingers.

“Thank you, Mrs. Covington,” Audrey replied softly. “Have a nice Thanksgiving.” Without another word, Audrey grabbed the bag and strolled out of the store, not waiting for Adelaide or Ethan to follow.