Scarlet Vows

The memory was bitter even now. Not because she’d told him to get lost. He deserved much worse. He’d betrayed her trust. He’d betrayed his own honor. Worst, he’d hurt a valued friend.

Drew grit his teeth in regret. He couldn’t undo the past, but seeing her here today, he needed to understand. Why was Brie still serving customers instead of justice? What had become of all her dreams and plans? For some reason it felt important that he understand.

“Don’t let him kid you,” Carey was telling Nancy. “Drew had the hots for Brianna one summer. Then he found out she was just a kid. And from the wrong side of town at that.”

“She isn’t a kid anymore,” Nancy said.

“No. She sure isn’t,” Carey said thoughtfully.

Drew nearly leaned across the table with his fist. The primitive urge to turn that handsome face to pulp surprised him, particularly when it didn’t go away. He had to force his fingers to unclench.

“This is a very nice side of town,” Drew enunciated in a deadly soft tone of voice. “People who live over here don’t need expensive cars and lots of money to have a good time. They understand what’s really important.”

Carey blinked. His lips parted as the barb slid home. Zach perked up in his seat, alert to his brother’s shift in mood. Only Nancy appeared puzzled.

“Aw, hell.” Carey said. “You still have the hots for her, don’t you?”

“Don’t say another word, Carey.”

Carey clamped his mouth closed. Drew slid out of the booth and stood.

“Where are you going?” Nancy asked in concern.

“I need some air.”

“But you haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Please sit down, Drew. We don’t want a scene. And we didn’t come here for the food, anyhow, if you’ll recall.”

He stepped out of reach of the hand she moved toward him. “No scenes. And there’s nothing wrong with my memory. I just don’t feel like campaigning right now. Excuse me.”

He strode outside without looking back. He was very much afraid if he did, he’d give in to his desire to grab Carey and use his friend’s face to relieve some of the tension roaring inside him.

Hazy, late afternoon heat shimmered in the air. The boardwalk teemed with people. From skimpy scraps of material daring to be called bathing suits, to the colorful garb worn by a local fortune-teller, people strolled and chatted gaily—in direct contrast to his somber mood.

Wheels, a bar a few doors down, opened to disgorge a tall black man in a biker uniform. Music blared at decibels that couldn’t possibly be good for the human ear. Drew changed direction. A cold beer suddenly appealed far more than a club sandwich and fries.

The biker gave him a hard stare. Drew’s expression must have been as fierce as his thoughts, because the man deliberately flexed his fingers and waited. Anticipation hummed through him. If this joker was looking for a fight, Drew was in the perfect mood to accommodate him. He hadn’t been in a brawl since—

“The last time you made that mistake, she paid the price.”

Drew pivoted, startled. The fortune-teller, known as Yvette, stood on the sidewalk only a few feet away, watching him with a fathomless expression.

“Excuse me?”

“You won’t find answers in the bottom of a bottle. Nor in a barroom brawl.”

His insides twisted. People passed between them. The seer didn’t move. Her utter stillness was uncanny. So was her knowledge of what he’d been thinking.

“Can I help you with something?” he finally asked.

She let out a troubled sigh. Almost reluctantly, she shook her head. Her thick, dark hair was as long as Brie’s had been that summer.

“No,” she replied sadly. “Nor can you help her. Not yet.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I wonder if she remembers that a kiss can break the spell,” she muttered under her breath.

A fruitcake. He hadn’t heard that about her, but that crazy outfit and all the jewelry she wore should have tipped him off. No one in their right mind would dress like that on a day like this.

“The beach is crowded,” she continued. “Still, a walk might clear your head. You’ve made a serious enemy, Mr. Pierce. Tread with caution.”

So she knew who he was. She probably also knew what had happened at the gun range yesterday. Did she think he’d killed Ursula Manning as Leland Manning seemed to believe?

A noisy group of teenagers cut between them, laughing and jostling one another as they passed. He followed the orange and green swirl of her skirt as the gypsy trailed the group into the busy diner without another word.

He was tempted to go after her and demand an explanation. Only what sort of explanation could he expect from a crazy person?

Besides, Brie was inside. For several long seconds he stood there uncertainly, more unnerved by the gypsy’s strange words than he wanted to admit.

The biker had given up the wait. He pulled out of the parking lot with a roar. Drew headed for the bar. At the last moment, he walked on past, heading for the entrance to the public beach.

The sand writhed with tan bodies, loud music and yelling children. The scent of water and suntan lotion mingled in the heavy, hot air. There wasn’t even a breeze to stir the mix together.

Had there been a breeze that night four years ago?

Drew couldn’t remember. Jake and Rider, two Vietnam veterans and co-owners of Wheels, had thrown him out after his second beer. Antihistamines and beer had made his head swim dizzily as he staggered to his car that night. His fingers had struggled to make the key fit in the lock without success.

Brie had appeared at his side, still wearing her uniform. Her hair had been slipping from its haphazard knot on top of her head, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a trace of makeup. Yet he’d wanted her with devastating intensity. It had been awfully hard to remember just then why he couldn’t have what he wanted.

He’d gone all gruff and macho when she’d tried to get him to go into the diner for a cup of coffee. He’d turned back to the car and dropped the keys. Brie had snatched them up, refusing to give them to him. When he tried to grab them from her, she took off running.

That had been all the stimulus he’d needed. He could still remember how his body sang with desire as he chased her down these rickety wooden steps. Stumbling, lurching across the empty sand, he’d wanted her more with each breath. So he caught her, tumbling them both down against a still-warm dune.

She’d tasted of pie and woman and she’d kissed him back with a hunger that had first startled, then stoked his ego enormously. He couldn’t get enough of her mouth. She strained against him, incredibly soft.

He hadn’t known. Hadn’t even suspected the truth. Brianna hadn’t kissed like a virgin. She’d kissed like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And she’d wanted him.

If she’d told him to stop he was pretty sure he could have. He liked to think he would have despite his condition. But she didn’t tell him to stop and his hands and his mouth had separated from his fuzzy brain.

Drew closed his eyes against the memory, but he could feel a swell of passion as clearly as if it were happening right now. The lush roundness of her breasts when he’d unbuttoned her uniform and pushed up her bra. The heady reaction to his mouth on her tender skin. She’d been so wild. A match to the tinder of his desire.

Maybe if he hadn’t mixed the drugs with the beer…but the combination hadn’t been nearly as potent as her mouth. He’d been wanting her for so long.

His hand tightened on the wood railing. In the dark, on that very public beach, he’d succumbed to primitive urges and claimed her innocence. Drew inhaled, surprised to find his body all but shaking at the memory. To this day, he couldn’t remember anything after that stunning shock and the incredible, mind-blowing pleasure of his own release. He had no idea how he got back to his car, or how Brie had gotten home.