In This Town

“Just sex.”

That was Nora’s first problem. She should keep whatever was between her and Griffin purely physical. Keep her heart out of it. “Does it matter?” she asked, lifting the tray and walking into the dining room.

Never one to give up anything easily, Nora caught up with Tori as she set omelets in front of a twenty-something couple.

“Of course it matters,” Nora said when Tori returned the tray to the alcove. “You’re my sister.”

“And yet you continue to ignore my sage advice about Griffin.”

“Because you’re wrong about him.” Her tone gentled. “He’s a good man. I lo—”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Tori covered her ears. “Do not start spouting off about your great love for him. Let me keep believing it’s only physical between you two and will someday soon come to an end. It’s the only way I’ll be able to sleep at night.”

Nora crossed her arms. “You know, instead of blaming me for this perceived distance between us lately, you might want to start considering how you’re partly to blame.”

Tori’s eyes widened. “Because I don’t like your boyfriend?”

“Because you don’t respect my ability to make decisions for myself. Most women would be happy to hear their baby sister is in a serious, committed relationship with a man who loves her.”

Tori couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Honey, I’m not most women.”

She may not have Nora’s brains or Layne’s ability to frighten the masses with one scowl—and legally carry a gun—but she did know men. It was one of her greatest strengths. And Griffin York was trouble.

Okay, so he was the best kind of trouble, the kind that came wrapped in a brooding, darkly handsome, super sexy package.

A pretty exterior for sure, but underneath? A cynical, bitter person who only hurt those who tried to get close to him. Who tried to love him.

Took one to know one, after all.

“Speak of the devil,” she murmured as she stepped out to check her customers’ drinks and noticed Griffin come in through the front door. The man looked like the poster child for the Bad Boy Club in his work boots, faded jeans and battered leather jacket.

She crossed to the drink station only to be followed by Nora. A moment later, Griffin joined them, making Tori feel cornered.

“Is she coming?” he asked Nora.

“Yes,” Nora said at the same time Tori spoke.

“No.”

He rubbed his thumb along the underside of his jaw. “Glad that’s cleared up.”

Nora took a hold of Tori’s arm and gently tugged her into the hallway. “I’m sorry this is a bad time for you,” Nora said, and Tori knew she meant it. Nora rarely said anything she didn’t mean. Tori almost envied her ability to be so open and honest. So willing to put her true self out there for others to judge. “But we all know this must be about the case.”

The case. Their mother’s murder case. Tori bit the inside of her lower lip. Hard. She was tired of hearing about it, thinking about it. It was over. Done. The man who’d killed their mother eighteen years ago, who’d left Valerie Sullivan’s body to rot and decay like so much garbage in the woods, was dead himself.

As his son stood before her, looking so much like his father, with his dark, tousled hair and slight dimple in his chin, it was all she could do not to throw herself at him, slap and scratch him. Try to inflict some of the pain her mother had suffered at his father’s hands on him.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Tori said, hating that she cast Dale York’s sins onto his only child. Especially when so many people cast her mother’s sins onto her. “No sense rehashing it all. It won’t change anything. Won’t bring Mom back or ensure that Dale is rotting in hell as punishment for what he did.”

“I could carry her out of here for you,” Griffin said to Nora, conveniently pretending Tori hadn’t spoken.

He’d fit in with her family just fine after all. They tended to ignore her, too. Underestimated her.

“We could toss her in the trunk,” he added. “Let Layne deal with her when we get to the station.” He rolled his shoulders as if warming up for some heavy lifting, his focus on Tori, his gaze assessing. “What do you go? About one twenty-five?”

A sound of outrage escaped her even as she sucked in her stomach. “I’ll have you know—” she jabbed a finger at Griffin’s chest, wished it was a fork “—I weigh one-fifteen.”

Give or take…oh…five pounds.

“If you say so.” Then he smirked.

Her hands fisted. God, what she wouldn’t give to knock that stupid grin off his face.

She tossed her hair back, her high heels bringing them almost eye to eye. “Listen, as much as I’m sure you two enjoy playing Bonnie and Clyde in your spare time, leave me out of it. Because if you lay one greasy finger on me, I’ll have Layne arrest you for assault after I’ve taken my hedge clippers to your—”

“Now, now,” Nora said. “No need to get all threatening and violent. It was only an idea.” She patted Griffin’s arm. “A sweet one.”

Tori gaped at her usually levelheaded sister. “There is something seriously wrong with you. What did he do? Perform a lobotomy on you while you were sleeping?”

“We need to go,” Griffin told Nora.

She sighed, as if dealing with Tori taxed the last of her usually limitless energy and patience. Well, it wasn’t exactly a day at the beach on Tori’s side of things, either.

Nora nodded. “I guess we’ll just tell Layne she couldn’t get away.”

It took a moment for Tori to realize she was the “she” Nora was talking about. “Okay, first of all, I’m standing right here and you acting as if I’m not is really irritating. Secondly, I don’t need you or anyone making excuses for me.” Didn’t want anyone doing so. She stood up for herself. Took care of herself.

After she’d realized the hard lesson that no one else was going to take care of her.

Too bad taking care of herself and her son wasn’t as easy as she’d thought it would be.

Nora sent her a beseeching look, one made all the more powerful by her sister’s sweetness. “Layne really wanted us both there. She wants you there.”

Tori’s resolve started dissolving like sugar in hot water. “I guess she’s going to be disappointed, then,” she said lightly before brushing past Griffin and heading back to work.

But guilt nudged her, hard and insistent as a toothache. Damn Nora. Damn Tori’s love for her. That’s what love did. It trapped you. Made you worry all the time about pleasing someone else, about putting your own wants and needs aside.

Love made you weak.

And Tori couldn’t afford to be anything but strong.

CHAPTER TWO

“WHAT ARE YOU doing?” Celeste Vitello asked Tori.

Tori set a stack of dirty dishes into a heavy, plastic bin. “Giving Mr. Jeffries a lap dance,” she said dryly, glancing at her boss. “You?”

“Now that is a horrifying thought.” Celeste’s dark, wildly curly short hair was held back from her face with a wide, black headband making her brown eyes appear larger, her cheekbones more pronounced. A white apron covered her stretchy black pants and orange T-shirt. “And while I admire your clever wit as much as, if not more than, the next person, shouldn’t you get going? Layne wanted you at the station at nine and it’s already eight fifty-five.”