Page 98 of Confessions

She took a sip of her drink. “I, um, think Thomas Fitzpatrick isn’t all bad,” she said, though, truthfully, the few times she’d met him, she’d been uncomfortable. Thomas, tall and patrician, had looked at her intently each time and his smile had seemed to have a hidden meaning that chilled her blood.

“I’d hate to see what you consider ‘all bad.’”

She wiped a drop of dew from the side of her glass. “Look, years ago, Fitzpatrick gave my father a chance and he’s kept him on, even when Dad was out with back surgery. Dad never missed a paycheck.”

Ben’s jaw tightened into a harsh line. “Yep. Fitzpatrick. Helluva guy. He and Monroe. Peas in the same dirty pod.” He scooted back his chair, handed her his glass and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I guess I’d better shove off. Big day at the Bait and Fish tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to leave,” she said, hating the fact that they’d come very near an argument.

“It’s late.” With a bitter smile he strode to the front door and she followed. “Thanks for the drink.”

She thought he might kiss her again and he stared at her for a heartbeat that caused her throat to catch. His gaze lingered on hers a second longer than necessary. “Good night, Carlie,” he whispered, his voice rough.

She leaned forward, expecting to be taken into his arms, but he opened the door and disappeared, leaving her feeling empty inside.

Disappointment curled in her stomach as she watched him through the narrow window. The pickup bounced out of the parking lot and disappeared into the night. Touching the tip of her finger to her lips, she closed her eyes and wondered if she’d ever see him again.

* * *

“I HEARD YOU were with Carlie.” Kevin lifted his head from beneath the hood of his Corvette long enough to stare his brother hard in the eye. “At the lake the other night. Some of the guys said you met her at the Daniels’s place and wound up taking her home.”

“Does it bother you?” Ben asked, wishing he hadn’t stopped by Kevin’s rented house unannounced. His brother was checking out his one prized possession—a six-year-old Corvette with engine problems. Keeping the car running cost Kevin nearly every dime he earned at the sawmill. Glossy black and sleek, the car seemed to hug the asphalt of the driveway.

“Bother me?” Kevin slammed down the hood and leaned a hip against a low-slung fender. “’Course it bothers me. She’s trouble, man. I told you that before.”

“You also said that you were through with her, that you were going with someone else...a girl from Coleville.”

“Tracy,” Kevin agreed, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “I am.”

“So it doesn’t matter—”

“Like hell!” Kevin said, bending a little so that the tip of his nose nearly touched Ben’s. “That little bitch gave me nothing but grief. Nothing! If you’re smart, you’ll stay away from her!” He opened the car door, slid inside and started the Corvette with a roar from the powerful engine. Blue smoke jetted from the exhaust as the sports car idled for a second, backfired and died. “Great,” Kevin ground out. “Now what?”

Ben ignored his brother’s question. “You’ve still got a thing for her.”

Kevin stiffened, but his mouth twisted into an ugly little smile as he glared up at Ben through the open window. “No way. I’m through with her. Used goods.”

Ben’s fists clenched and he gnashed his back teeth together to keep from uttering a hot retort. He hadn’t come over to Kevin’s to pick a fight with him. No, he’d just stopped by to clear his conscience and make certain that Kevin didn’t still hold a torch for Carlie because, for the past three days, ever since taking her home from the lake, Ben had thought of little else than her easy smile, glossy black hair and blue eyes. During the day, when he was supposed to be stocking the shelves or selling fishing tackle, thoughts of her had invaded his mind. And the nights were worse—he’d already lost three nights’ sleep, tossing and turning, remembering the feel of her body against his when he’d kissed her.

Muttering under his breath, Kevin climbed out of the car, checked under the hood one more time and, in exasperation, tossed the dirty rag into a box of tools. He reached into the pocket of his shirt for his cigarettes and his face creased into a frown. “Probably needs a whole new engine.” Then, as if he remembered why his brother had stopped by, he added, “Look, if you want Carlie Surrett, I’m not standin’ in your way. She’s all yours. She doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

“You’re sure?”

Kevin flicked a lighter to the end of his cigarette, then let out a long stream of smoke. “It’s your funeral.”

Ben wasn’t convinced that Kevin didn’t still harbor a few unsettled feelings, but it didn’t really matter. Ben had laid all his cards on the table. “So how’d you find out that I was with her at the lake?”

Kevin snorted. Smoke curled from his nostrils. “This is Gold Creek, remember? Bad news travels fast.”

Chapter Two

BEN DIDN’T CALL. Not the next day, nor the day after. Carlie began to believe that she’d imagined the passion in his kiss.

“Face it,” she told her reflection as she stared into the oval mirror mounted over her bureau. “It wasn’t a big deal to him.” She brushed her long hair until it crackled, then braided the blue-black strands into a single plait that fell down the middle of her back. Shadow was curled on the window

seat in her room, washing her face and obviously unconcerned about Carlie’s love life.

“I shouldn’t care, you know,” she said with a glance at the gray tabby. Shadow did her best to ignore Carlie and continued preening. In disgust, Carlie tossed her brush onto the bureau. “You make a lousy sister, you know,” she said, wishing she had someone in whom to confide. She considered Brenda, but shoved that idea quickly aside. Brenda was too gregarious; she didn’t know how to keep a secret. But she could always confide in Rachelle.