Page 21 of Texas Scandal

Her stomach felt like she was base jumping as he brought his chest flush with her body. Melody couldn’t remember the last time she felt anything near this magnitude with a guy before. Was it the circumstances?

Did it matter? She was here. He was here. And all she wanted to feel was nothing but him, surrounding her, inside her, moving to their own tempo until the building tension found sweet release.

Tiernan abruptly stopped kissing her, but he didn’t move. She gripped his forearms, willing him to stay right where he was for a little while longer.

“You’re beautiful,” he started, and she feared the rejection that was sure to come next. “But this can’t happen.”

Those four words were her least favorite from now on. She wriggled out from underneath him, making certain her robe didn’t open in the process and reveal more of her than she intended. At least she was covered. “You’re right.” Her cheeks heated. If embarrassment could kill a person, she’d be dead. The minute she thought the wordskillanddead, she wished she could take them back. Her heart ached for the kid. She forced her thoughts back to the current situation as she picked up her coffee cup and then took a sip.

What was this murderer doing here? Was he really coming for her? Or did he have questions? Questions about their father? About her? About Coop? The sheriff wasn’t giving up information, so they needed to figure things out on their own.

When she looked over at Tiernan, she realized he was studying her. No matter how gorgeous this man was or how tempting those Cupid’s bow lips were, she didn’t have to touch a stove twice to remember it burned. She got the message loud and clear.You’re great, but...

It didn’t matter what came after the last word because everything she needed to know had been said right then and there. Practically throwing herself at a stranger, no matter how drop-dead beautiful, was crossing a line that she’d never once considered doing. Then again, she’d been running on instinct and pure need, and had gotten caught up in the moment. There would be no repeat.

“I won’t ask if everything is okay,” he said. “I won’t waste your time with a stupid question.”

He was dead on the nail there. Everything was most certainly not fine.

“I’m here instead of in my own home,” she said. “This is a great place, but it’s not mine. I have no idea what the sheriff and his deputies have done to my personal belongings. I probably should have been there to catalog what was taken, if anything.” The idea someone could have planted her address in Jason’s pocket struck like a physical blow. The same person might have put something in her home to tie her to the murder, which could also explain the note on her vehicle telling her to get away for a while. “Will Prescott check out the area where I was instructed to go?”

“I’m sure he already has someone on it. Probably already did after learning about it last night,” he reassured.

She nodded.

“There are so many questions, and it feels like my life is on the line,” she explained. The look on Tiernan’s face was the same one from the sheriff’s office yesterday. It was a mix of determination and frustration on her behalf. “I’d like to find out more about Jason, too. Where did he grow up? We have the name of the high school, but did he live in a house or apartment? Was his mother married or single? Did she work two jobs or live off a trust fund? How long did she know my father?” She calculated the math on the age difference between her and Jason. “I was fifteen years old when he would have been born. That’s high school. The last name Riker doesn’t ring any bells but the incident happened eighteen years ago.”

“Do you think it would help to visit your father?” he asked.

“In jail?”

“Captive audience,” Tiernan said.

She thought about it for a minute before responding. “You do make a point. It isn’t like he can go anywhere.” Even so, the idea of confronting her father about another affair was as appealing as sticking a butter knife through her eye sockets. “He could refuse to talk about it with me. Or, he could ask the guard to take him away.”

“How long has it been since you’ve visited him?” Tiernan asked.

“I haven’t,” she said. “We have spoken on the phone. To be honest, I didn’t think I could handle seeing my father locked behind bars. He hurt people, and I’ll never forgive him for what he’s done. People lost their homes and their savings because of him. But at the end of the day, he is still my father. That little girl tucked deep inside of me still wants this all to be a misunderstanding. And as long as I’m wishing, I might as well go all in and ask that my father turn out to be the hero six-year-old me believed in.” In real life, people were flawed and sometimes jerks, and everything she believed she knew could be turned upside down in an instant with no rhyme or reason.

“Bad things happen to good people every day,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “People can be damn disappointing.”

“That sounds loaded,” she said, flipping the tables. “Who let you down?”

Chapter Nine

Tiernan issued a sharp sigh. He opened his mouth to speak but then clamped it shut again. “Let’s just say I’ve learned not to take people at face value. And when someone shows you their true colors, believe them. Don’t stick around and give them second or third chances because you think you know them and convince yourself the signs aren’t red flags.”

It was the reason he’d stopped the kiss before he fell down that rabbit hole again. Besides, Melody had been through a traumatic experience and was most likely searching for proof of life. Nothing could happen between them. Not after he’d been burned.

“Sounds like there’s a story behind those words,” Melody said. Her eyebrow slightly arched.

“But with your parents, blind trust is usually the case,” he continued, purposely not addressing her comment. He’d said too much already.

She studied him as she tilted her head to the right. He’d seen this look before. It seemed to be her go-to while she was deciding whether to push a subject or move on. After a slow sigh, she said, “I went all in with mine. Granted, I noticed that my mother was on the shallow side and my father could be superficial, but I kept making excuses for them in my mind. Like my dad just likes nice things and my mom enjoys friends and tennis more than carpool and baking cookies. I convinced myself that not every mother asked how their children’s day was. Mine volunteered at school on a regular basis. She was on the PTA and kept close tabs on my grades.”

“Those are acts of caring,” he said.

“Looking back, I think mine and my brother’s successes were her report card to our father,” she countered. “It was as though she justified spending her days at the tennis club if she volunteered a couple of times a month at our school and we were the ‘perfect’ children. Once the money train stopped, she was out.”

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