Exposed (32 page)

Holding onto Ruth’s arm, June slipped into pointed toe satin mules and stared at herself in the mirror. She carefully settled her features and even attempted a smile at her reflection. 

“Ready?”

June found she could only nod. She didn’t trust her voice not to betray the emotions warring within her.

“You look wonderful, June. Really,” Ruth said.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come to the dance? Just tell your father you’re handing out flyers directly to the sinners.”

“June,” Ruth said sharply. “My father is following his faith. As am I.”

But then the corner of her mouth quirked up in a smile. “Though it would be nice to drink some punch and see the decorations.”

June grabbed Ruth’s hands between her own. “Come with me. Please?”

Ruth chewed on her lip, her eyes darting to the flyers. “I … I should really get home.”

“Dessert at the soda fountain? You name the day, and I’ll treat. I miss you, Ruth.”

A big smile crawled across her face. “Okay then,” she said. 

June pulled her close in a hug. It’d been too long since she’d seen Ruth smile—truly smile. But for now, June had her own happiness to tend to. Even if it was just for tonight.

June waved good-bye to Ruth at the front door and waited for Ivan.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Ivan

June’s house was dark, the windows shut against the evening breezes. 

Ivan pulled up into the drive and turned off the truck, giving himself a few moments to gather his nerves. His hands shook, and his nerves made the flowers—the Purple Junes—shiver in the bouquet until he calmed his thoughts and reined in his power.

Ivan stepped from the truck, the bouquet tight in one hand while he closed the bottom button of his suit jacket with the other. He smoothed his hand down the dark jacket and patted at his pants pocket where the velvet pouch hid. He could barely wait to slip it around her neck, see it settle against her throat and tell her what it meant. It meant love; it meant a promise.

Ivan’s boots were light where he skipped the two steps up to the porch, and his knuckles were sharp where he tapped them against the front door.

Ivan peered around the porch into the living room window. It was still and silent inside. The evening sun glinted off brass peacocks preening on either side of the wide stone fireplace, their blue paste-jewel eyes staring back at Ivan. The first little frown furrowed Ivan’s forehead, but he smartly rapped his fingers against the door again.

Ivan shifted back and forth on his feet and worried at his mop of hair. The other men in town used creams and waxes, but he’d never cared enough to buy any hair cream for himself. Now, with his hair curling at his ear, he wished he had. 

He was just about to worry at it more when the front door pulled wide. June was in shadows, and she paused for just a breath of a moment.

Ivan’s hand went tight around the bouquet, but then June stepped into the sunlight and smiled.

The air in Ivan’s chest fled. She looked … she looked intoxicating. The sort of creature who lived in dreams. The dress skimmed over her body, showing off all her graceful curves. Her hair was pinned to fall dramatically over one eye, and her lips were the color of cherries. He wanted to lick them, see if they tasted as good as they looked.

“For you,” he said, his voice suddenly gruff. He thrust the flowers toward her and watched carefully as she took the bouquet and dipped her nose to the flowers.

When June looked up, her eyes shone. “Oh, Ivan,” she whispered. “They’re—”

“For you,” he said again. “Everything I do, it’s …. I’ve called them Purple Junes.”

June dropped her head with a small sniffle and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “I love them,” she said, eyes on the flowers.

Ivan took a step closer, closed his hands around her arms. “June, I—”

She flinched.

A frown pulled his brows together. Why had she …? 

But then June smiled wide. “Will you sell these at the general store? I kind of hope you don’t.”

Ah. So she already knew he’d gone to Peter Powell on his own. 

“I was nervous he’d say no. That’s why I didn’t wait for you,” he said quickly. Maybe that’s why she was acting a bit distant.

“Oh, I don’t mind. It’s only been two days, and already shoppers have been coming back for more. My father said the Sharpe’s cook bought up all the peppers, and Mrs. Erikson was raving about the flowers.”

Now Ivan had to drop his chin, this time to hide his wide smile. 

“Let’s go, shall we?” June said, lightly touching Ivan’s arm. “I can’t wait to dance with you.”

Ivan opened the truck door for her then jogged around to his side. The truck rumbled to life, and they set off. But it was silent inside the cab, the air brittle and stretched thin.

June sat close to the door, her eyes out the window. She clasped her flowers to her chest and bent to sniff them once or twice. But other than that, she didn’t move. She didn’t look at Ivan.

The first shoots of doubt sprouted deep within him. Tendrils of it spread, but he pressed the worries down and smothered them. 

“You look beautiful,” he told her.

June finally looked at him and smiled again. But there was a tightness at the edges, and her brown eyes were dull.

“And you clean up nicely,” she said.

Ivan touched the knot of his tie.

“Really, you look so handsome,” June said. She tried for a laugh that sounded just this side of forced. “I’ll have to fight the girls off you.”

“You’ll never have to fight for me, June.”

June turned away from him again, her gaze lost out the window. Had he said something wrong? Ivan blinked in confusion. Something was off. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. 

Before June, Ivan would have immediately assumed the worst. Assumed it and called her on it. But now …. Now he wanted to show her the sort of kindness she showed others. She was probably nervous about arriving together, after all. She was taking a big risk going public with their relationship. 

Ivan reached over and walked his fingers up her thigh. “Or, you
can
fight for me. Evie and the other girls would be shocked right out of their garters.”

June giggled, and the sound shivered through Ivan and relaxed his shoulders. 

“Wouldn’t you like to see that,” June teased. “But you’ll just have to be happy with me, Ivan Sokolov. For as long as we have.”

See? Everything was going to be okay. No, more than that. Everything was going to be perfect. 

Cars lined the streets in town. It seemed as if everyone in the valley had turned up for the dance. Ivan found a spot down a dark lane and cut the engine. He was half ready to give June the necklace then, to slip it around her neck and slip the dress down her body. But he didn’t. The anticipation was too wonderful. He’d give it to her after the dance, then drive her back to his cabin and make love to her all night. His body tightened just at the thought of it.

But first. First, Ivan had a beautiful woman to escort to the dance.

He helped June down from the truck and hooked her hand through his arm. It felt good there, like it belonged. His breath shuddered just at how right it felt. He imagined the looks people would give them, the whispers. Ivan Sokolov with perfect June Powell. He smiled wide; he couldn’t wait.

They joined the couples strolling toward the town square, the men in their lean suits and the women in bright, summer dresses. Ivan could hear the dance before he saw it. It swelled around him with the sounds of violin and clarinets, laughter and clinking glasses.

Ivan and June rounded a corner and faced the dance from across the street. Strings of light dipped between makeshift poles all around the square, the tops of the poles tied with rosettes and fluttering ribbons. Between the lights and the bright ribbons, the square glowed like a sunny afternoon. Tables swathed in sheer white were clustered across the open lawn and surrounded a dance floor where even more rosettes and streamers made the whole scene something out of a fantasy. 

Couples drifted over the lawn or through the formal gardens, holding pink punch in little crystal glasses or arms woven together to waltz over the dance floor. With June at his side, Ivan hovered at the edge of the square. This was it. For June, there was no going back once they crossed the street.

He peered down at her and found June looking up at him. Again, her eyes were wet with unshed tears. Ivan lifted a thumb to swipe at the corner of her eye. He wanted her to be happy. That was all he wanted, June’s happiness.

“If you don’t want to go ….”

June squeezed his arm. “Ivan, I’ve never wanted something more in my life. I need this night with you.”

Ivan cupped her face then made to push her hair out of her eye. 

June moved just slightly. “You’ll ruin my hair,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Fine,” Ivan said, dipping his lips close to hers. “I’ll just ruin your lipstick instead.”

The kiss was sweet and brief, but it made Ivan’s heart soar. What reason was there to doubt June? He believed in her, in them. And in just a moment, the whole town would see what they were to each other.

Arm in arm, they walked under the strings of lights and entered the dance.

People stared, leaned toward friends with mouths hidden behind their hands and eyes tracking their movements. But June didn’t pull away, didn’t look down. She held on tight to Ivan, and when he peeked at her he saw her face was open with a smile.

Across the way, Peter Powell looked past Annette’s gold-swathed shoulder and raised his eyebrows. But then he turned back to whatever his wife was saying and left them alone. Maybe that was all the approval Ivan was going to get from June’s family, but did it really matter? A small part of Ivan knew it did. He wanted June’s parents to like him. 

The others, they could deal with. 

But maybe they wouldn’t have to. Meg and Will held up hands in hello and waved them over to a table they shared with Lucy, Frank, and Teddy. Evie was there too, but Ivan kept forgetting her. 

Frank glared at Ivan and stalked off before they could sit down. Ivan watched him go with a shrug; he’d never really cared for him anyway.

“June! … And Ivan,” Lucy said as they sat down. “I … well, I think you both look wonderful.” Lucy smiled at Ivan. “You look quite dashing in that suit.”

“Doesn’t he?” June covered Ivan’s hand with her own and grinned. She turned to him. “Care to get us some punch?”

The request was plain to all—June wanted a second alone with Meg and Lucy. And Evie. Ivan felt a pang for the poor woman. He knew what it was like to be ignored; she didn’t.

Ivan threaded through the crowd with Teddy and Will behind him. He ladled out two cups of punch, adding a splash of rum to his from the flask hiding in Teddy’s suit jacket.

All around, he felt eyes on him, heard whispers in his wake. But with June waiting for him, Ivan found he really didn’t care. He even spied Butch at the edge of the crowd, glaring. Ivan gave the brute his widest smile.

Back at the table, June and the other women stopped talking quite abruptly when the men rejoined them. Ivan held a hand out to June as the orchestra played the opening bars of something soft and romantic.

“Dance with me?”

CHAPTER THIRTY

June

The beauty of the Mountain Pearl Dance made June’s heart ache. 

She just wanted to be happy, to forget all that had gone wrong. Even if just for a few hours. She wanted Ivan to remember this night with a smile … she did too.

But her bruises felt hot and tender under the makeup and outfit, and her head pounded from lack of sleep and Butch’s assault. She found her shoulders kept bunching up around her neck, and she had to
make
herself relax.

Why hadn’t she been stronger? Why had she let Butch manipulate her so easily? June stumbled backward at the force of the disappointment in herself, and Ivan’s hand where he held her arm squeezed. She winced against the pain.

“Is everything all right?” His eyes were worried, and he rubbed his thumb gently against her skin. Even that hurt.

June settled her shoulders and smiled. “Everything is perfect, Ivan,” she said.

He paused, furrowed his brow. “Are you sure?”

June leaned into him. She could just tell him … just admit what she’d done. How weak she was ….

“Ivan, I ….”

No. She couldn’t drag him into this mess. Butch had threatened to hurt Ivan if she told anyone. And Ivan … there was no way he’d be able to keep her secret. He’d find Butch, put himself in danger to save her. She couldn’t—she
wouldn’t
—do that to him. 

Her only way out was to find Clayton. With his last name, his place in the town, people would have to believe him if there was trouble. Clayton could help her. He had to.

She’d asked Meg where he and Cora were, but apparently they’d not shown up yet. But they would. They had to. June didn’t know how much longer she could make it without getting help. June pushed the creeping fear back down and focused on Ivan. 

“I maybe forgot to eat,” she said with a guilty smile. “I was just so excited, and then I spent all that time getting ready.”

“There’s food here,” Ivan started.

“No, I want to dance with you, Ivan. Please?”

With a nod, he led her through the crowd of revelers. All around, laughter and joy and an intoxicating hope swelled through the evening air. It was a sweet top note to the deeper, richer scent of the garden and trees, of the growing things that reminded June so much of Ivan. He wasn’t just the man at her arm. He was everywhere.

They stepped from grass to the parquet dance floor, and Ivan’s hands led her into the swirling couples as the orchestra began.

One of his hands found her waist, his fingers curled around her. His other hand lifted hers up, and he looked down at her with eyes the color of the sea. Deep and blue and moving.