In This Town (21 page)

“I don’t need my son’s permission to date,” Tori said with a
smile.

“No, I’m sure you don’t. But it’d probably be nice if he didn’t
fight you on it, either.”

“It didn’t bother him when Greg started seeing Colleen,” she
pointed out, unable to hide the bitterness from her voice. “I really don’t see
why I should let his attitude dictate my actions, especially when he’s so
enamored with his soon-to-be stepmother.”

“Because he’s a kid and you’re the adult and that’s the way it
is. It’s not fair. But if being a parent was easy, there wouldn’t be as many
kids in the foster system, wouldn’t be so many kids who were neglected or abused
or spoiled to the point that no one can stand them.”

She leaned against the door. “I hadn’t realized cops were also
therapists.”

His smile flashed in the night and her breath caught. “You’d be
surprised at my insight.”

No, she wouldn’t be. Tori knew he already saw too much,
expected too much of her, thought there was more to her than what she showed the
world.

He was wrong. She was all flash and sparkle, sex appeal and
fantasy. That was all she wanted to be.

She closed the distance between them. Smiled at him as she laid
her hands on his chest. Was reassured and relieved when his heart jumped under
her fingers. But he didn’t pull her to him, just watched her. Waited.

“I don’t need your insight,” she said, making her tone husky.
Sent him a look from under her lashes. “And you don’t really want to
psychoanalyze me.”

“You’ve got that right,” he growled, his eyes hooded. “That’s
the last thing I want to do to you.”

Trapping her hands with his own, he kissed her, a heated,
hungry kiss that made her forget everything. That her son was inside, that this
was her game, one she played better than anyone else, one that she always won.
All she could do was feel the scrape of his whiskers against her lip, the taste
of him, like the coffee he’d had after dinner. His fingers on hers, steady and
warm, the rasp of his tongue against hers.

And she wanted. For the first time, she wasn’t just the object
of someone else’s desire. She desired. She craved. His touch, his taste, his
body next to hers, inside hers.

The wanting was enticing. More so than she’d ever dreamed. But
it was also dangerous. Because wanting too much made you vulnerable, made you
dependent on someone else’s will, their decision.

Tori broke the kiss, hated that her heart was racing, that her
thoughts were sluggish, her will so weak.

Hated that he stared down at her as if he knew exactly what
power he held over her.

And was no happier about it than she was.

“I don’t want to want you,” he told her in a low, raspy tone
that only amplified the desire in her veins.

“I know,” she said softly.

And with the taste of him lingering on her lips, desire for him
heating her blood, she stepped inside and closed the door.

* * *

“W
HERE
ARE
you going?”

At the sound of his mother’s voice, Anthony stopped, his hand
on the door handle. “Out.”

“Out?” she repeated, coming up behind him. “Out where?”

His fingers tightened. “Just out.”

“Anthony—”

“Damn it,” he yelled, whirling around so that her eyes widened
and she took a step back. “I’m an adult, a grown man and I’m going out.”

Though she seemed taken aback, she recovered quickly. Nothing
kept his mom down for long; she was too well-bred for that. Not even a lying,
cheating husband could put a chink in her armor, could faze her.

“You may be an adult—” though she didn’t sound so sure about
that last part “—but I’m still your mother and I will not tolerate you speaking
to me with disrespect. Do you understand?”

His hands shook, anger built. “You won’t tolerate me speaking
to you that way but you’ll let Dad lie to you, cheat on you? You’ll tolerate
that?”

She went white and he regretted his words. But he couldn’t take
them back, not when he felt as if they were choking him, not when he felt as if
he didn’t even know his parents anymore.

As if he didn’t know himself. What he was capable of. He
couldn’t stop thinking of how he was like his father. He’d hurt Jess, had taken
advantage of her. He’d do it again if she wasn’t with Tanner, if she’d give him
another chance. He still wanted her.

Christ, there was something wrong with him. Something rotten,
poisonous inside of him.

Like father, like son.

“My marriage is not up for discussion,” his mother said
sharply. “This is about you and your appalling behavior lately.”

“My behavior’s been appalling?” He shook his head in disgust.
“How can you stay with him? How can you even look at him knowing what he did? He
screwed his brother’s wife.”

“That’s enough, Anthony.” But her voice shook. Her throat
worked as she swallowed.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He had to get it
out before it exploded inside of him. Before it destroyed him. “He got her
pregnant. He’s Nora’s father. I can barely even look at her now. How can you
stay after that?”

“None of this is Nora’s fault. Don’t you ever, ever put the
blame on her. We raised you better than that.”

They had and it shamed him to admit he had this resentment
toward his favorite cousin. He loved her, always had. She’d babysat him, had
been another sister to him.

The joke was she truly was his sister.

“What’s going on?” Ken asked as he came in from the study. “I
can hear you two across the house.”

Astor’s mouth was thin, her shoulders back. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. It’s you,” he snapped at his father. “You
walking around here like you’re some sort of king that nothing and nobody can
touch. You think you can betray the people you’re supposed to love and we’re all
supposed to just forgive you.”

His father looked stricken. “Why don’t we all go sit down?” he
asked in that calm, unruffled way. “Talk this through?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Anthony said. “It won’t change
anything. It won’t change what you did.”

“Nothing can change what I did,” Ken said wearily. “All I can
do is apologize. But if we work together, we can get past this.”

Anthony shook his head, filled with disgust for his father, for
the man he thought he was, the man he’d looked up to his entire life. “That’s
just it. I can’t get past it.”

He met his mother’s eyes. She stood next to her husband, but
they didn’t touch, weren’t a strong unit like they were before the truth came
out. And as much as Anthony wanted to pretend that everything would someday
return to normal, would go back to being the way it was before, he couldn’t.

“How can you pretend it never happened?” he asked his mom.

“I’m not pretending anything,” Astor insisted. “But whether or
not your father and I stay together is between Ken and me. We’ve been through
good times and bad times, we’ve raised two incredible children together, have
been incredibly blessed.”

“He ruined it,” Anthony said. “All of it.”

Her expression softened and she reached for him. He didn’t back
up, let her take a hold of his hand. She felt small and delicate to him, not the
strong woman he’d always seen her as and that, too, was his father’s fault. He’d
made her weak and vulnerable. He’d hurt her.

“Your father made a mistake.” She looked at Ken. “One I’m
working really hard to forgive.”

“How can you?” Anthony asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Because I love him. I’ve lived with him, loved him, for all
these years of marriage. And that, more than anything, more than any mistake,
matters more to me.”

Disappointed and angrier than he’d ever been in his life,
Anthony stepped back so that her hand fell away. Then he did something he’d
never done in his entire life.

He turned his back on his parents.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T
HE
ANSWER
WAS
there, Walker knew,
right in front of him, but for some reason, he couldn’t see it.

Rubbing his burning eyes, he picked up a picture, this one of
Dale’s body as it’d been found. Walker wasn’t sure why Taylor had gone to the
trouble of documenting the scene when he’d had no reason to suspect foul play
had been involved, but Walker was glad he did. He studied the photo—Dale’s body
on the bed, his mouth and eyes open in death. A lamp, a bottle of whiskey and a
half-full glass on the bedside table. He flipped through the other pictures. No
sign of struggle, nothing out of place.

Nothing to prove that Dale had been murdered.

Walker crossed to the minifridge and pulled out a bottle of
water. Took a long drink. Lowering the bottle, he frowned at the contents on the
counter. Ice bucket. Coffee, sugar and powdered creamer packets, coffeemaker,
two coffee mugs, two glasses…

Two glasses.

He practically leaped across the room, tore through the
pictures again, then did another, slower search. One glass. There had only been
one drinking glass in Dale’s room when his body had been found. Walker thought
back to every hotel and motel room he’d ever stayed in. There were always two
glasses.

He picked up his phone only to set it down again. Who would he
call? What would he say? Even if he could prove there had been two glasses in
Dale’s room, he had no proof that someone had been with Dale the night he died.
That someone had murdered Dale and taken the glass.

He was back to square one.

Someone knocked on the door. Pulling his wallet from his back
pocket, he opened it but it wasn’t the pizza he’d ordered. It was Tori, looking
like some walking fantasy in snug dark jeans and a low-cut top the color of
plums.

Damn, but he’d always liked plums.

He leaned back. “This is a surprise.” He just wished he knew if
it was a good one or one that was going to bite him in the ass.

“Is it?” she murmured as she sashayed into the room, making it
seem smaller, more intimate than it was. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Late for a visit.”

“I guess that depends on the reason for the visit.” She sat in
the chair at the desk, crossing her legs, much as she had the first time he’d
seen her when it’d felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach.

He hadn’t been able to catch his breath since.

Tori leaned forward, scanning the pictures he had scattered
across the desk. He quickly gathered them together, shoved them into the
folder.

She smiled. “Working on the case? Gathering all the facts to
prove my sister is a dirty cop? Or maybe you’ve discovered my other sister is
really some murdering mastermind?”

She was acting different. Oh, she looked the same, beautiful as
always but that sexy grin seemed strained, her gaze wary and, if he wasn’t
mistaken, nervous. Maybe even sad.

There were so many facets to her, so many nuances. He’d always
considered himself the type of man who preferred things black or white but with
her, he found he liked knowing there were many things yet to be discovered.

And that’s why he’d kept his distance these past few days.
Because when he was around her, he forgot about the job. Lost sight of why he
was there. Lost sight of who he was.

“Actually,” he said, tidying up the mess he’d made on his bed,
“I was just finishing up.”

“Am I allowed to ask how the case is going?”

“You’re allowed to ask anything you want.” He put the reports
into his briefcase and snapped it shut. “It’s whether or not you get an answer
that’s the question.”

She swung her leg idly. “Will I get an answer?”

“I guess that depends on why you’re asking.”

He wanted her to be straight with him, to admit the truth and
show a part of herself that she kept hidden from everyone else. Wanted her to
share something real with him. Was afraid if she did, he wouldn’t be able to
pretend his initial view of her hadn’t changed.

“I’m curious as to what you’re going to tell the D.A. about my
sister,” she admitted. “But I’m also wondering how close you are to being
done.”

“Eager to get rid of me?”

“No.” Her gaze dropped, her throat worked. “And that’s the
problem.”

Her voice was quiet. Unsure. It about did him in.

“I’ll tell the D.A. the truth,” he said roughly, but damn it,
she had no right to come here, to mess with his mind, to tempt him when all he
could think about was her.

She rose gracefully to her feet and sort of glided over to him,
not stopping until she was a mere hairbreadth from him. He could smell her
perfume, feel the warmth of her body.

“What if I asked you to make sure that report was favorable to
my sister? Would you do that one little thing for me if I asked, really…” She
laid her hands on his chest. “Really…” Slid them up to link behind his neck and
stretched that glorious body of hers against his. Lowered her voice so that it
was a breathy purr. “Really nicely?”

Disappointment flowed through him, the strength of it, the
depth surprising and staggering. He placed his hands on her waist, tortured
himself by sliding his hands up her sides, dragging the material of her top up.
She was warm, the shirt was soft but he knew her skin was softer and that
thought was even more torturous.

“If you put it that way,” he said, not having to feign the
hoarseness in his voice, “then I’d definitely fail this little test you’ve got
going on.”

She settled back, would’ve stepped back, he knew, if he hadn’t
tightened his hold on her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.” Watching the emotions flicker across her
expression was fascinating. She was fascinating the way she tried to hide her
true self all the time when that was the most interesting part about her. “This
is one of those tests you like to give people, make sure they’re worthy of you
or that they’ll stand by you or do exactly what you want. Except even when they
pass, you don’t believe it, don’t believe in them.”

“I prefer to believe in what I see,” she said tightly as she
slid her hands out from around his neck to fist at her sides.

She was so adamant, so goddamn beautiful even as she lied to
herself. Lied to him. He wasn’t sure he could trust her, not with anything,
especially not with his heart, but that was okay. He wouldn’t give it to her.
Not fully.

“Now you’re lying to yourself,” he said, surprised to find
himself enjoying how her eyes narrowed, her body stiffened against his. But she
still didn’t pull away because that would be a sign of weakness and the
all-powerful Tori Mott never backed down from a man, from a challenge. “You only
trust what you can control, not what you see. You don’t trust what’s right here,
right in front of you,” he continued softly. “I think the real reason you don’t
go after what you want isn’t because you’re afraid you won’t get it. But that
you will.”

Now she moved, stepping away from him. “Oh, believe me, I like
getting what I want. I like it just fine.” She tossed her head and struck a
provocative pose, one he couldn’t help but think was contrived. “And you have
some nerve, judging me, Detective, when you don’t go after what you want,
either.”

She was baiting him. He knew it, recognized it easily, just as
he recognized his reaction to it. He wanted to prove her wrong, wanted to show
her he was the type of man who didn’t sit back waiting for life to happen to
him.

But that was what she was counting on. And he couldn’t do
it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly. “The truth,
Tori.”

Her mouth thinned but her expression turned sultry and she sent
him one of those looks she liked from underneath her lashes. “You know why.”

He shook his head. “I want you to tell me.”

She laughed but it was harsh. “Now who’s playing games?”

“It’s not a game. It’s not a test. That’s what you do because
you’re afraid to trust in what you see. So, I’ll ask you one more time. Why are
you here?”

Silence filled the room, heavy and loaded. And he knew she
wouldn’t tell him, wouldn’t open up to him that much, not enough. Not fully. And
that’s what he wanted. All of her. Even if it was for just one night.

Someone knocked on the door. The pizza. He went to open the
door.

* * *

T
ORI
FELT
LIKE
an idiot. She mentally
rolled her eyes. Make that
was
an idiot.

She stood in the middle of Walker’s hotel room. Gooseflesh rose
on her arms and she rubbed her skin but it did little to warm her. To soothe
her. Not even the warmth of her humiliation could do that, she thought as Walker
spoke with the pizza delivery guy, exchanged money for the food.

From the way the pizza guy’s face lit up, Walker had added a
big tip. A generous one.

Guess he had a little bit of nice guy in him after all.

He wanted her to rip herself open for him, to bare her soul.
She couldn’t. Once people saw who you really were, they turned their backs on
you. They realized you weren’t good enough, weren’t smart or kind enough.

Walker shut the door and carried the pizza and the paper plates
that the delivery guy had given him to the small, round table in the corner.
“I’d invite you to stay for a slice,” Walker said, “but I think it’d be best if
I didn’t.”

Tori’s jaw dropped. She blinked. “What?”

He straightened, watched her with that patient look in his
eyes, the one that said he’d wait for her but she knew that would change. No one
waited. Not for her.

“I think you should go,” he said, his impassive tone so much
more hurtful than if he’d been cold.

Her throat constricted. “You’re…you’re kicking me out?”

She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. He was a man, wasn’t he?
He was definitely interested. She wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t been positive
of that. Even now she saw it in his eyes. The attraction.

“Do you know how many men in this town would love to be in your
shoes right now?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking. “How many men want
me?”

They all wanted her. It was her blessing. Her curse. It was who
she was, all she knew. It gave her a sense of control over her life.

Walker set a slice of pepperoni pizza onto a plate. “They don’t
want you,” he said as calmly as if they were discussing Tom Brady’s quarterback
rating. “They want your body, that face of yours. They want you to remain
voiceless and nameless. They want to use you, sleep with you then set you aside
like they would any other plaything.” He bit into his pizza and shrugged.
Swallowed. “If we were to be together, I’d want more.”

Fear coated her mouth. She knew that. God, didn’t she know
that? It was what terrified her. “I don’t have more in me to give.”

“I think you do,” he said, not sounding too happy about it. “I
think you have more in you than you could ever imagine.”

Tears pricked her eyes. She ducked her head and blinked them
back. Damn him. Damn him! Why did he have to do this to her? Why couldn’t he be
like every other guy and just take what she had to offer without wanting,
without expecting more? Couldn’t he see he was wrong about her? She couldn’t
trust what she saw when she looked at him, couldn’t believe he was everything he
seemed. No one was. Everyone had their secrets. She couldn’t share hers.

She sneered. “Well, I guess it’s your loss, then.”

“I guess it is.”

But she wondered if she wasn’t the one losing.

She stalked to the door, opened it. Hesitated, gave him time,
plenty of time to call her back, to rush over and stop her. To make the decision
for both of them, to make it easier on her. But there was only silence behind
her.

Her fingers tightened on the door handle and she stepped
outside, found herself whirling around, facing him. “I told Brandon he could
live with his father. That I wouldn’t fight for custody of him if that’s what he
wanted.”

“When?”

“Tonight.” She twisted her fingers together. “A few hours ago
when I dropped him off at Greg and Colleen’s.”

Walker approached her, his steps slow, his gaze intense. “That
must’ve been difficult.”

Difficult? It’d broken her heart. “I wanted him to say he’d
changed his mind. I wanted him to choose me,” she whispered.

“He loves you.”

She nodded. “He does. I guess…I guess that’s going to have to
be enough.”

“What you did, letting him go, that was very brave.”

“I don’t feel brave. I feel…empty. Alone. And I…I thought maybe
you could help. With that last part.”

Shutting his eyes, he exhaled heavily. “Tori, I—”

“I’ve never been with another man except Greg.”

Her words, blurted out in a desperate rush, hung in the air
between them. One of her secrets, one of many, out in the open for him to see.
To judge. One he could use against her.

“What?” he asked, sounding as if the word was strangling
him.

She swallowed, lifted her chin. “Greg was my first. And I
haven’t been with anyone else.”

“Shut the door.”

Tori looked down, realized she was holding the door open. She
shut it, her heart racing as Walker came closer, and closer.

“You’ve only been with one man?” he asked, not sounding so much
disbelieving as everyone in town probably would be, but more intrigued.
Curious.

She tried to play it cool. “We met when we were sixteen,” she
pointed out. “Dated for a year before we went all the way.”

“And when you were older?”

“I was faithful during my marriage.” She’d had no desire to be
otherwise. Had known she could’ve cheated, could’ve been with any number of the
men who’d flirted with her but she’d had no interest. She’d respected Greg, had
cared for him enough not to betray him that way, not to hurt him.