Page 91 of Confessions

Carlie shuddered, thinking of Kevin. Too many times he’d wanted to touch her, kiss her, get her alone. They hadn’t had one thing in common and she probably didn’t have much more with Kevin’s younger brother, Ben.

So what was she doing here? Crashing a party because of Ben Powell, Kevin’s younger brother? Boy, Carlie, you are looking for trouble!

She tied the boat to one of the sturdier pilings, walked carefully across the bleached boards and hiked along a weed-choked path to the broad front porch, where an old rocking chair swayed slightly with the breeze. The sound of voices grew louder, some from inside the house, others from around back, but a heavy chain and padlock on the front door suggested they find another entrance.

“I’m starting to have second thoughts about this,” Brenda admitted. “It’s kind of creepy, you know. Aren’t there laws about criminal trespass and breaking and entering?”

“I thought you didn’t want to turn back!” Carlie, too, was torn. She remembered another party, less than a year before, when a group of kids were gathered at the F

itzpatrick house on the other side of the lake. Things got out of hand and Roy Fitzpatrick, the golden boy of Gold Creek, heir to the Fitzpatrick fortune, had been killed.

Jackson Moore was suspected and arrested for the crime, but Carlie’s best friend, Rachelle Tremont, had given Jackson the alibi he needed to avoid being indicted. Jackson had walked away from jail a free man, but he’d left town, leaving Rachelle with a soiled reputation and a broken heart.

The aftermath of the party had been devastating, but now, even remembering the hell the Fitzpatricks and Tremonts had gone through, Carlie still couldn’t turn around. The lure of seeing Ben was greater than her fear of being caught breaking some kind of minor law. She walked off the porch and took an overgrown trail of flagstones toward the back.

Why she was so attracted to Ben, she didn’t know. He should be the one boy in town to avoid, considering the fact that he was Kevin’s younger brother. But everything about Ben appealed to her—his rugged good looks, his easy, slightly cynical smile, his open irreverence for all things monetary.

Shorter and more compact than Kevin, Ben wasn’t quite six feet, but he was more muscular and his hazel gaze seemed to burn right into her soul. So here she was, acting like a sneak thief, sticking her nose where it didn’t belong and stepping around the corner to...nearly run right into him.

She gasped and Brenda, walking behind her bumped against her backside.

Ben didn’t seem the least surprised. Stripped to the waist, wearing faded Levi’s with split knees, he stopped dead in his tracks. A bottle of beer dangled from his fingers and a slow, lazy smile spread across his beard-darkened jaw. “Carlie, right? Carlie Surrett?”

She nodded, her throat dry, her heart hammering.

“And I’m Brenda.” Her friend stepped out of Carlie’s shadow to introduce herself.

Ben seemed amused. His lips twisted upward a little and an intense spark of interest lighted his hazel eyes. Never, not for one second, did his gaze waver from hers.

Carlie swallowed hard and shoved a handful of hair over her shoulder. She suddenly felt awkward and wondered why she’d been so stupid as to come party crashing.

“Kevin isn’t here,” Ben said, taking a long pull from the beer. Carlie watched in fascination as he swallowed. Sweat trickled down his neck and his Adam’s apple moved slowly.

“I didn’t come looking for Kevin.”

One dark brow shot up. “Who then?”

“Nobody,” she lied and heard Brenda’s sharp intake of breath. “I just, um, heard there was a party.”

He leaned a palm against the rough sides of the building and moved his fingertips restlessly along one hand-hewn log. She noticed his tanned arms, the muscles of his shoulders, the veins bulging beneath his skin. “So this is what you do...crash parties?”

“I didn’t know it was engraved invitation only.”

He smiled at that. “We were just trying to keep it small. Avoid a fiasco like what happened at the Fitzpatrick place.”

“No one knows we’re here.”

“No one?”

Brenda shook her head.

“You can trust us,” Carlie said, wondering why she felt like baiting him.

“Can I?” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Kevin seems to think you’re his girl.”

She felt the hackles on the back of her neck rise. “Kevin’s wrong.”

He took another swig from his beer. “So why he’d get the wrong information?”