Page 34 of Texas-Sized Scandal

“I’m sorry you had to see it,” he said, as he lifted his head. “I have to remember that neither of us is responsible for our family’s actions.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “You’re not your father.”

“No, I’m not,” he said. “Neither are you.”

She sat back from him and narrowed her eyes, not sure why he would bring up her father. “What are you saying?”

“Just that you must endure some questions about your father. That’s pretty tough to ignore.”

“Not for me,” she said. “The rumors aren’t true. You must know that.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to dealing with people whispering behind my back. You might have to get used to that on your own, even without adding the Bartelli name to the mix.”

“What are you saying?”

“That people think your father had something to do with Vincent Hamm’s murder,” he said.

“If that were true, I think Sheriff Battle would have brought it up,” she said, wondering where he was leading with all of this. “But he didn’t. Don’t try to paint my father with the same brush as yours.”

“I’m not painting him with anything. I’m simply saying your father has rumors swirling all around him.”

She shook her head, trying not to let her anger get the better of her, but the more he talked, the worse he was making it. “We were talking about you, Slade. Not my dad. Who, by the way, is nothing like your father.”

“Well, that has yet to be seen,” Slade said.

“Why would you say such a thing?” she asked, angry and hurt that he’d even think her father would be part of anything illegal, especially murder. She stood up and grabbed her purse and Pixie’s leash, glaring down at him.

“How dare you, Slade Bartelli.”

He stopped her by grabbing her arm gently. Her handbag hit him in the arm but he ignored it. He couldn’t let her walk away like this. Not now. He pulled her into his arms when he noticed some of the other patrons looking at them, and kissed her gently, but she turned her head. She was ticked at him and fair enough.

“People are watching,” he said, under his breath.

She looked at him with such disdain that he knew his solution was going to kill whatever had been simmering between them. She was something he was afraid to keep for himself, and he was doing what he always did when he had someone in his life who cared. Driving them away.

“Let’s finish our drinks so we can both leave together,” he said.

“Let’s go. I can’t do this right now,” she said.

“All right, let’s go,” he said loudly, linking their hands together and leading her and Pixie out to the street. Wanting to get inside and find privacy, he decided not to walk back to her condo. Instead, he hailed a taxi.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close to his body and he was pretty sure he was the only one who knew that she pinched him on his side when he did it, but she smiled up at him at the same time.

He simply smiled back and as soon as they were at her building, he got out and held the door for her as she scooped up Pixie. He put his hand on the small of her back as he guided her toward her building. A flurry of paparazzi was waiting at the entrance, snapping pictures and yelling questions. This was crazy. How had he ever thought his plan was going to help? But he’d had no other idea how to protect her and he hadn’t been ready to stay goodbye. He still wasn’t. But was he holding on for himself only?

He knew that this was harder for Melinda than she’d ever admit. A clean break would have been better. He should have said he didn’t want to be a father and just walked away. Better to let her think he was an ass than to break her heart.

As soon as they were across the lobby and in the private elevator bank, she stepped away from him.

“You don’t have to come up.”

“I do. We’re not done with this,” he said. Granted, his father had a much longer history of criminal activity than any Perry did. But her father had been making some interesting choices of late, so Slade’s comment wasn’t completely out of line. She had to know what people were saying. In fact, she probably did but she didn’t want to hear it from him.

“I’m done. I can’t believe you accused my father of murder. I’ve defended you more times than I care to admit, and everyone knows your family is organized crime. And I’ve taken your word that you’re not involved,” she said, jamming the call button for the elevator with more force than was necessary.

“Yes, you have. With good reason,” he added. “When have I lied to you?” It bothered him that everyone judged him to be like his father without knowing him, but he couldn’t say something... Hell, he knew he’d lashed out because that damned sheriff had made him remember he wasn’t good enough for Melinda. It wasn’t like that would be the last time in his life when a law enforcement official would question him, even though he had never done a single damned thing that was against the law. “Even when lying would have benefited me, I’ve always been honest with you.”

She sighed. “I know. I know, Slade. God, I’m sorry, it’s just that your question hit a little too close to home. And I’m tired of pretending. I...” She hesitated, as if she didn’t want to finish her thought, then finally said, “I like you, and I don’t want to break up with you because you’re afraid of commitment.”

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