And Then He Kissed Me (26 page)

BOOK: And Then He Kissed Me
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Kieran took a breath. “I’d better start again.”

Audrey listened as he poured out his story, her heart plummeting farther into her body with every word until it was lodged in her heels and she was certain it would never beat inside her chest again.

“My sister?” she whispered. “She paid you to leave?”

Kieran nodded. “She thought I was a no-good. Not worthy of you. And in a way she was right, Audrey. I had a gambling problem. And I’m not sure I could have faced it if Casey hadn’t sent me packing.”

Audrey shook her head. She wanted to dislodge the information.

Kieran was a gambler. He had lost the money meant for his
sick mom
.

“I don’t…” She started to form a thought, then stopped. As awful as it was to think of Kieran gambling away money meant for his mom, she was somehow less addled by that than the thought that her own sister had sent Kieran packing. The notion of it had her stomach roiling with nausea. Did her sister honestly think so little of her? Could that really be true?

“So why not just tell me?” Audrey asked, swallowing back tears. “Why not just tell me the truth?”

“Because then I wouldn’t get the money,” Kieran said. “Five years ago, I had to pick the money or you and I chose...” Here, his voice trembled dangerously. He took a breath. “I chose the money.”

“But Casey knows you’re back,” Audrey said, grasping at logic. “So you violated the terms of the agreement. Only she hasn’t said anything to me.”
Ergo you are lying,
she thought.
This is all a bunch of hooey.

“It paints us both in a bad light, so I can see why she’d wait. Only I couldn’t wait. I thought I could come back here and just stay away from you and things would be fine, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I tried talking to her, to straighten things out, but it didn’t go very well.”

“You and Casey spoke recently?” The idea was dumbfounding.

“Yes. I told her I was going to try to repair our relationship. Needless to say, she wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea.”

Audrey was still having trouble grasping that Casey and Kieran had spoken not just five years ago, but in the recent past.

Kieran exhaled. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy for you to hear. I know she’s your only family. But I will say this. She loves you, and she was only trying to help you. In her way.”

“By manipulating my life behind the scenes?”

“Both of us are guilty of that. Not just Casey. If I could do it over again—if I could change my decisions—I would. I’m sure Casey would, too. I want you to know that I care for you so much. I’ve never stopped.”

Kieran’s voice was gravelly with emotion. Audrey’s nerves knotted at the sound of it.

Audrey looked down at her hands. For so long, she’d wondered if she’d imagined what had transpired with Kieran all those years ago. She wondered if she’d made a mountain of emotion out of a situation that had barely been a grain of affection. If she’d imagined love, when he was imagining lust.

Turned out, she hadn’t misread him. He’d cared for her. Their affection had been mutual.

It was almost enough to wash away the fact that he’d chosen money over her.

Almost.

Part of her wanted to rush headlong into his arms, to plunge her hands into his thick hair and pull his face toward hers. She would kiss away the worry etched into his brows. She would smooth away his concerns, absolve him of their mangled past.

She closed her eyes. The other part of her wanted to push him away and continue her course of independence. She hadn’t needed Kieran Callaghan for five years, and she could let this conversation be the reason she didn’t need him again—ever.

She could do either of these things, she knew. The options were right there, tearing her heart apart in an unwinnable battle. She could wrestle with those options as much as she liked, but the one thing she could
not
do was think that her sister—her closest living relative—had started this avalanche of misery in Audrey’s life.

“I need time to digest all this,” she said slowly.

“Of course.”

“Honestly, I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Any part in particular?”

“About Casey. I don’t—I can’t see her doing any of this.”

Couldn’t she? No. Never.

“Then ask her,” Kieran said.

“I will. But you should be there when I do.”

“What purpose will that serve?”

Because you’re an addict and maybe a liar, too.

“Because then we’ll get everything out on the table. All of us. If she’s lying, I’ll know. Whatever happens from here, it happens with the truth front and center.”

Then I’ll have proof that I was naïve about many things—my job, my love life—but I wasn’t misguided by the one constant in my life. By my sister.

Oh, God, she was almost yearning for Kieran to be making all this up.

“I’m not lying,” Kieran insisted, his eyes flicking across Audrey’s face.

“Then let’s make sure of it tomorrow. I’m meeting Casey at the Paul Bunyan Diner at noon. Can you make it?”

“If that’s what you want, then yes.”

“It is.”

Time passed, but whether it was seconds or minutes, Audrey wasn’t sure. All she knew was that, at some point, she couldn’t bear to have Kieran’s concerned gaze on her another moment.

“I need to go,” she said finally. She stood, tottering in her heels. Kieran reached out across the conference table, as if to steady her, then pulled his hand back.

“Tomorrow at noon,” Audrey said, trying to sound strong.

“I’ll be there.”

Not daring to look at Kieran again, Audrey left the conference room. She could feel her shattered heart pressing against her skin—but whether it was broken over the truth about Kieran or the idea that her own sister had orchestrated the most destructive concert of Audrey’s life, she wasn’t at all sure.

C
HAPTER
TWENTY

I
t was early, not even noon, but Audrey wanted a drink.

After the morning she’d had, she figured she might just have
six
drinks.

In fact, she was fairly determined that she wanted to drink asparagus beer until she couldn’t remember who Kieran Callaghan was. Steering her car out of the Harley dealership parking lot and into the bright May sun, she drove to the Wheelhouse Bar.

*  *  *

The smell of spilled beer and old wood greeted Audrey as she opened the door to the Wheelhouse. The space was dim, the jukebox was quiet, and no one else was there. She looked at her watch. No wonder it was deserted—it was only ten fifty. Not even eleven o’clock yet.

This
was
desperate.

Ignoring every voice inside her head telling her to leave now and go for a long run, Audrey shimmied herself onto a worn leather stool at the bar. She was still wearing her outfit from the dealership, and she desperately wanted to peel off the constrictive layers, but she didn’t have anything else to put on. She’d reeled out of White Pine Harley, barely aware of anything, much less her clothes.

Now, she was at a bar looking like an alcoholic S&M Barbie.

Fabulous.

Nevertheless, she folded her hands and waited for someone to notice she was there.

After a moment, Dave Englund emerged from the kitchen door to Audrey’s right carrying a dish rack full of clean glasses. He stopped abruptly when he spotted her. Audrey couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he tightened his grip on the large plastic rack, perhaps to keep from dropping it.

“Audrey?” he asked, his head tilting slightly. If his black hair had been longer, it would have flopped.

“Hey, Dave,” Audrey said, smiling too big. She worried that she looked freakish, trying to pretend it was totally normal for her to be sitting on a barstool, dressed in a corset at ten fifty in the morning. “How’ve you been?”

Dave walked over and set the clean glasses next to the bar’s stainless steel sink. “Ah, fine, I suppose.” She wondered if he’d mention the other night, maybe chastise her for the way she’d flirted and then run off with Kieran, but instead he was staring at her with something like concern lining his face. “And you?”

His emphasis on the word
you
was unmistakable. The subtext all but screamed: What are you doing here?

“I’m great,” she lied. “Never better. I was just hoping I could get a little more of that asparagus beer. I promise to keep it to myself, just like last time. Pinkie swear.” She held out her pinkie and instantly regretted it. What was she, sixteen?

Dave stared at her. “Beer came out yesterday. Festival starts tonight, you know.”

“Right,” Audrey said, pulling back her errant digit. Of course she didn’t have to keep the beer a secret—the festival would be in full swing soon, no doubt right about the time she was parading around hoping to be crowned Asparagus Queen.

“Can I just have some, then?”

Dave grabbed a clean glass off the rack he’d just brought in. He pulled the tap’s handle, and Audrey watched the golden liquid flow, her spirits already lifting.

Dave placed it on the bar.

“Thanks,” she said, and immediately tipped it back. The ice-cold beer went down her throat like bubbly, asparagus-y heaven. After she swallowed, a small hiccup escaped her. And no wonder. She’d consumed half a pint in one gulp.

Audrey looked from the glass to Dave, who was just standing there. “It’s good,” she offered.

“Best batch I’ve made so far.” He said it lightly enough, but she could see worry creasing the skin just above his dark brows. A moment passed. She took another sip, just to avoid having to look at him.

“You going to hit the festival, then?” Dave asked.

Audrey nodded. “I filed the paperwork to be in the running for Asparagus Queen.”

“You don’t say.”

“Is that surprising?”

“No, not at all. Not that I want that hunky boyfriend of yours glaring at me for saying so.”

Audrey shook her head. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Huh. The way the two of you were going at it on the dance floor the other night, I just assumed—”

“He’s
not
my boyfriend.”

Another moment passed. “Is that possibly the reason you’re in here drinking before noon on a Friday?”

“No.”

Dave lifted a brow.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Audrey said, exasperated. She swallowed down more beer. “I feel like I don’t even know what’s even going
on
anymore.”

But of course that wasn’t exactly true. She certainly knew that what she wanted—desperately—was to take a chance on Kieran again. But he’d put her in an impossible situation. If he was lying about Casey, then he was just a no-good fibber and gambler, same as he’d always been. But if he was telling the truth, then it meant he and Casey had plotted behind her back and conspired against her five years ago. And to turn the other cheek for them both would require a level of forgiveness she wasn’t sure she could reach.

Dave set down his towel and joined her. His strong, lean frame sat on the barstool in one easy motion.

“I don’t normally do this,” Dave said. “Fraternizing with the customers, I mean.”

“But you’ll make an exception for me?” Audrey asked, taking in his tight black T-shirt, his black hair, and his brown eyes. Up this close, she could see they were such a rich, golden color they were almost amber.

“We go back,” Dave said, shrugging.

Audrey tried to conjure the spine tingles from the other night, when Dave had flirted with her.
Here is an attractive man,
she thought,
and we’re alone.
But the idea went nowhere. Whatever sparks Dave had started to ignite, Kieran had made sure they’d gone out. Kieran was so large in her mind and her heart, there just wasn’t room for anyone else. Possibly ever.

Audrey barely held back a groan at the thought. The only silver lining in the situation was that there seemed to be a platonic easiness between her and Dave. Possibly he’d also come to the conclusion they’d make better friends.

“I remember in middle school,” Dave was saying, “when our English teacher had us write about the person we want to be most like when we grow up. And all the other kids said basketball players or rock stars or actresses, and you said—who was it again? Some kind of veterinarian?”

“James Herriot,” Audrey replied, blushing at the memory. “A British author and vet.” She stared at Dave’s boyish face. “You remember that?”

“I do. It was just so different. At the time, I probably thought
nerd
—”

“Thanks a lot.”

“No, but now, when I think back on it, it’s really amazing. You had the most individual idea of any of us. You were doing your own thing before it was cool. I admire that. Especially since, well, here I am, tending a bar and the most individual thing I get to do is make asparagus beer once a year.”

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