Page 62 of Wine and Research
“Yes.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes,” she replied again.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, I know I was an ass last year, but why keep this a secret?”
Okay, so that was a lot to unpack.
She moved out of his arms and stepped toward the front window, trying to form her words. “It wasn’t a secret. It’s just not something I talk about with people.”
“I see,” he said, and something in his tone had her turning to face him. “I’d like to think I’m more than just ‘people’ to you.”
“You are.”
He shrugged, and she watch some of the warmth leave his gaze. “Obviously, not.”
“That’s not true.” Her gut twisted, hating that she’d hurt him. “It’s hard for me to talk about Patrick and my past. And it might not be a good idea because…” She let her voice trail off. Elle doubted the cop in him would understand her irrational fear or any talk about a curse.
“Because of what, Elle?” he asked, his gaze emotionless now. When she didn’t answer, he hooked his thumbs behind his vest and cocked his head. “Can you at least tell me why you and your brother have a different last name? Did you have different fathers?”
She shook her head, and braced herself, knowing he wasn’t going to be pleased with her answer. “Murphy is my maiden name.”
He stiffened and his arms fell to his side. “Jesus, Elle. You’re married?”
“No! Not anymore,” she rushed to say and even stepped toward him, but he moved away. “Callum and I have been divorced over a decade now.” Pain sliced through her chest at his cold shoulder, but she knew keeping her past from him hadn’t helped. “Did you really think I’d mess around with someone if I was married?”
God, was his opinion of her that low?
“Hard to say, since I clearly don’t know you as well as I thought,” he said, lips twisting into a scowl. “Considering you’re writing a series to honor my father for trying to save your brother but didn’t bring it up once in the year we’ve known each other.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled before opening them again. “I didn’t know your father wasthatOfficer Mercer. Besides, my mother told me it was Officer Martin who’d tried to save Patrick, then she forbade me to bring it up. I was seven, Jeremy. I took my mother’s words as gospel and obeyed her. It wasn’t until I saw this article that I discovered the truth. So I pretty much found out right before you.”
He blew out a breath and shoved a hand through his hair before he nodded. “Sorry,” he said, and the knot in her stomach loosened a little but not a lot, because his gaze was still closed off.
She tried to think of something to say to break the tension, but her gift for words abandoned her, proving absolutely useless in real life. Suddenly too exhausted to stand, Elle leaned her hip against the desk, at a loss as to what to do next.
Maybe she wasn’t supposed to do anything. Maybe this was fate’s sign that it was time to cut and run…or pay the consequences.
“Are there any other secrets you’ve kept from me, other than a brother and husband?” he asked, right before his radio went off.
Elle jumped then set a hand over her aching heart to steady it, while he talked to dispatch. His brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed the information, and she knew that despite his calm exterior, a sense of readiness hummed beneath the surface, implying his willingness to spring into action at a moment's notice. She admired that about him.
That and many other things. But it was probably all moot now.
As the dispatcher concluded the transmission, Jeremy responded clearly, acknowledging receipt of the call.
Then his attention returned to her. “I have to go.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said before he turned and rushed out of the room and then the house, without waiting for her reply.
Elle had no idea when “later” was…or for that matter, if she’d still be in Pennsylvania.
Chapter Nineteen
Since she could write the rest of the series anywhere, there was technically nothing keeping Elle in the Poconos now.
