The Sinner

Slip chuckled. “He jumped all over me, said it was all my fault. And partly it was, I guess. By law I should have checked your ID. I think he would have sicced the cops on me if he hadn’t been so desperate to hush it all up. Still, maybe he listened, because it wasn’t long before that little chippy was packing up and moving on.”

“Yes,” Bryce said with a short laugh. “But they all did that anyhow, eventually.” He raised his beer in a small salute. “Still, it was a nice gesture, and I appreciate it. Thanks.”

“Any time.” Slip grinned, his gold tooth flashing in the candlelight. “Not that you’re likely to need it again, I guess once is enough for that.” He glanced over at Lara. “Anyhow, sorry to interrupt your drinks. Nice to meet you, Ms. Gilbert. And Bryce, now you’re back, don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Bryce made another noncommittal salute and, combined with a smile, it was enough to send the other man off happy.

When they were alone again, Bryce turned to Lara. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I probably shouldn’t have brought you here. But Heyday isn’t exactly full of choices at this hour.”

“No problem. He seems nice. But what was that all about?”

“Oh, God, let’s don’t get into that at this hour of the night.” He looked suddenly tired. “Didn’t you say you moved here to unearth the secrets of my past? Well, I’ll let you ferret out this one for yourself. It shouldn’t be hard. That stale, seedy tale is the only thing anyone in Heyday remembers about me.”

She waited. Though she would have liked to hear this story from Bryce himself, she could tell he really didn’t want to tell her. She had to respect that. She had no right to crowd or push.

Still, there was one thing she could clear up. “All right. But that’s not really true, you know. I didn’t just come here looking for gossip.”

He frowned. “Well, you couldn’t have come here looking for me.”

“No,” she said. “Actually I thought this was the last place on earth you’d be. I know how you’ve always despised Heyday. I was shocked when one of the other students told me you were teaching a class at the college.”

“Yeah, well, God knows it shocked the hell out of me.” He took a long drink of beer and, putting the bottle down, gave her a half smile. “So help me out here, Lara. If you didn’t come to find me, and you didn’t come to snoop into my checkered youth, I’m back to my original question. What the devil are you doing here?”

She took a breath. “I guess I needed a quiet place to think things through. To begin to heal after—after Kenny. Heyday seemed perfect for that. I want you to know I didn’t intend to come across like some kind of stalker myself—as you said, I had no idea you’d ever set foot in Heyday again. But knowing you had once lived here, that it was your hometown, well, it made Heyday seem a little less foreign than other cities I might have chosen. A little safer.”

She looked at him, feeling ridiculously anxious. She didn’t need his permission to live in Heyday. He didn’t own it. Well, actually, she’d heard that he did own a lot of it. But even so—he couldn’t exactly run her out of town.

He had a deep crease between his brows and a tension in his shoulders that told her he wasn’t buying it.

“For God’s sake, Lara. You’re smarter than that. I understand that you’re scared, that you need something to make you feel safe. But there’s nothing magical about me, or the town where I was born. I’m nobody’s guardian angel.”

“I know that. It’s just that I—”

“Look, this idea that you…care about me. It’s absurd. You hired me to carry a gun and use it if Kenny Boggs got too close, and that’s what I did. It was a job, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” She squared her shoulders. “Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely.”

For the first time, she felt a touch of anger rising. She knew he hadn’t much respected the well-oiled, waxed, tanned and highlighted Lara Lynmore. He had despised her sweet-and-sexy, mega-expensive designer clothes that lured fans into hungry obsession. He’d stood somberly by through the long hours of her late-night parties, refusing to be moved even when she twirled over, tipsy enough to tug his hand and beg for a dance. And though he hadn’t said a word as he mutely handed her an aspirin the next morning and turned her over to her personal trainer whose job it was to ensure that the parties didn’t wreck her all-important looks, she knew what he was thinking.

He was thinking that Lara Lynmore was a self-absorbed, superficial piece of eye candy.

No, he hadn’t respected her. Maybe he hadn’t even really liked her.

But he had wanted her. It was dishonest, and pointless, to try to deny that now. Within days of his arrival, every time they were in the same room, the air had sizzled. Within weeks, they had been in each other’s arms.

“What about the night of the art gallery opening? When we got home, when you kissed me… If Darryl hadn’t called—”

“That night was a mistake,” he said flatly. “But even so, it was just sex.”

“Just sex? I don’t feel like that very often, Bryce. Can you honestly say you do?”

He shrugged. “Often enough to recognize it for what it is.”

“And that is?”

“An intense but temporary hormonal flare-up. Quite pleasant, as long as you don’t read anything more serious into it.”

She felt her cheeks grow hot. Part of her simply couldn’t believe he’d said that. Were they talking about the same night? Her veins buzzed a little whenever she remembered it, even now.

But she had no intention of sitting here begging him to admit that their interlude had been something magical. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe it had only seemed extraordinary to her because she had so little to compare it to.

“All right,” she said, struggling to keep her voice from sounding as hot as her face. “If you say it meant nothing, I believe you. Even so, I would have thought that you might, at the very least, respect my efforts to remake my life. But if you don’t, that’s not going to stop me, because this isn’t, in the end, really about you—or even us. It’s about me.”

“Lara—”

“Please. Hear me out. I didn’t come here to pester you, and I don’t intend to. Heyday is small, but surely we can avoid each other if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She stood up. “And now I think I’d better get home. Because, as ridiculous as it might seem to you, I have an early class in the morning.”

CHAPTER FIVE

BRYCE HAD A BAD NIGHT, thanks to the encounter with Lara, which had gotten under his skin more than he would have expected. He kept rehashing their conversation, wondering how on earth she expected him to believe a word of it. Movie star turned music therapist? Trading the red carpet for troubled children and chemo-therapy patients? Right. She’d tire of this little game in…he’d give her about another month.