Mr. Serious Read online

  “Are you implying that you think my sister would hurt me out of a jealous rage or something? That’s silly. She wouldn’t do something like that. Maybe she just wanted the ring to sell. She may have just needed the money—like you said.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say, so she simply sat watching him as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other with discomfort. Regardless of whatever he thought or felt about her sister, Alli would never hurt her—at least she hoped she wouldn’t.

  “You know, I gave her about forty thousand dollars when we divided our assets during our divorce. She should have at least been able to put a down payment on a little place. I bet my mother would have helped her get a place, too, if she’d wanted. So why didn’t she? I mean, where did the money go? She’s been erratic and dangerous. What if she had other problems?”

  Christina stood up and brushed off a wayward Lego that had embedded in her thigh when she had sat down. “Do you mean you think my sister might have been a drug addict?” she asked ever so slowly. If Waylon was as smart as she assumed he was, he would hear the warning in her tone.

  “No!” he said, panic filling his voice. “No. God, why do you always have to jump to the worst conclusion first? I just was wondering if she had gotten herself into some kind of trouble. I guess, yeah, she could have been into drugs.” He glanced over at her. “Is that what you think was happening? That she had some kind of drug addiction—and that’s what moved her toward murder and theft?”

  Christina believed this had all happened because Alli had fallen in love with William Poe. Sure, falling in love was sometimes just like being an addict—her sister had always been chasing the next hit. And toward the end, before she’d left, she hadn’t let anyone or anything stand in the way of getting the man she had wanted—even when it meant killing Bianca and Monica. Yet drugs and love weren’t the same—not at all. You could only do so many drugs before you overdosed.

  Christina looked up into Waylon’s brown eyes. He was still staring at her like he wanted some kind of sign that she agreed with his thinking. In truth, she agreed with him—Alli had more going on than anyone knew. Heck, every time they looked into her sister’s activities before her disappearance they learned some new deeper, darker secret. And everything came back to men—either Waylon, William or any number of her other lovers.

  Men and love were more trouble than they were worth.

  Waylon took her by the hand. The sensation of his warm fingers against hers made her wonder if she was wrong. Was Waylon right, and her sister was involved in something far more sinister and dangerous than Christina had assumed? Everyone had simply presumed that Alli had done what she had out of jealousy, but what if there was something more at play? Something that could affect them all?

  “You know how Alli is...or at least was when you were with her. She is impulsive. I guess it wouldn’t surprise me if she got into something and got in way over her head,” she admitted.

  “There was this one time, when we were together...” He stopped, almost as though he hadn’t realized that he was reminiscing until it was already out of his mouth. He looked at her as though talking about his relationship with Alli suddenly made him uncomfortable.

  He gave her a sexy half grin, and it had an air of apology to it.

  “You don’t have to stop. We both loved her once,” she said, secretly wondering if his feelings toward her had something to do with his reluctance to talk about her sister.

  She hated to even think about what he felt toward her, fearing if she did it would somehow make things between them more real—and even more tense. She didn’t want more of her body or her mind telling her that she needed to kiss him.

  In fact, if he talked about her sister more, Christina was sure she could pull herself back to reality and out of the fantasy that seemed to fill her thoughts every time she let her mind drift. No matter how good the dream was of taking his lips, letting him lace them over her skin and down her neck, it wasn’t healthy to give her daydreams any room to grow.

  She drew in a long breath, and at its edges was his scent. He smelled of men’s cologne and the sweet crisp scent of winter air.

  “I guess right now it doesn’t matter what pushed Alli to her breaking point,” he said. “What does matter is the ring and Winnie’s safety. After she sells that ring, it may be only a matter of hours before she comes to get her daughter. Maybe she just needed the money in order to run.”

  “There are all kinds of things that she could take from this ranch and sell if she wanted to make money. This can’t be about that,” she said, trying to find some other reasonable answer behind her sister’s illogical behavior. “She had to have done this just to send me a message.”

  “You’re right.” He nodded. “Maybe she could have stolen some other things from the ranch and that’s how she’s been getting by. But what if someone connected some of the things that she was selling to this ranch? Maybe she had to steal something that wasn’t so obvious—maybe she was afraid that someone would come to the family with information...information they wouldn’t have wanted to give to the police.”

  “Not everyone wants to protect this family, Waylon,” she said, but the words came out much harsher than she had intended. “I mean, there’s more than a few people out there, just like William Poe, who would go out of their way to make sure Dunrovin fails.”

  He stopped her with the wave of his hand. “I know we aren’t the Kennedys, Christina, but we have a lot of love and support in this community. My mother and father give a lot to charity, they bankroll the high school extracurriculars when they can and, heck, you know how much they foster.”

  Waylon wasn’t wrong. His family as a whole was nothing if not altruistic and kind. They were the picture of giving. Yet not everyone in the world appreciated that kind of people—and more often than not, they were the first ones to get taken advantage of. Heaven knew she had stopped more than one employee from taking advantage of Eloise. Just two months ago, they’d had a young woman apply for a job. She’d plied Mrs. Fitzgerald with a sob story about getting kicked out of her parents’ home after they had caught her with a man they hadn’t approved of.

  Of course, Eloise had hired the girl, letting her work as a housekeeper. In only two weeks, the girl had robbed at least three guests that they knew of, to the tune of nearly two thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry and cash. Eloise had covered the loss, but it had been up to Christina to fire the girl. If she hadn’t, Eloise without a doubt would have kept her on.

  Almost exactly the same thing had happened with Alli when she had arrived at the ranch, except instead of jewelry, she had stolen Waylon’s heart.

  Christina glanced over at him. He was staring at her, and there was a whisper of empathy on his face as their eyes locked.

  “It’s not a secret that Alli has stolen before.”

  “I know.” She walked out of the bedroom. There was nothing more they could do here. Alli had sent her message—she wasn’t coming back, and she didn’t care about Christina.

  “Wait,” Waylon said, calling after her as she made her way down the hall. “Where are you going?”

  She had no idea. She just couldn’t be in the center of her sister’s mess anymore. “Your brother and his team can handle this. I’m out. I’m so tired. I can’t handle this...any of this.”

  She made her way through the living room toward her bedroom on the other side of the ranch-style house. Partway down the hall, she stopped. She didn’t want to be in this house or anywhere near it for a while. Yet there was nowhere else to go. She didn’t have anything but this place, and thanks to Wyatt and Gwen, she didn’t even have her niece to keep her company. All she had was Waylon and the feelings that flooded her whenever he was near.

  She turned back to him and, taking him by the hand, pulled him toward the front door. “Let’s get out of here.”

 
“What?” he asked, but he didn’t resist her leading him out of the house and to the truck. “Wyatt’s on his way.”

  “Whatever,” she said, motioning for him to get in as she made her way around to the driver’s side. “He can handle this.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald were standing in the yard next to Wyatt, who was sitting in his squad car. He gave them a two-finger wave as they made their way out of the house.

  She sighed, letting go of Waylon’s hand as they changed direction toward his brother’s car. They were never going to be able to get out of this place now. Why was it, when all she wanted to do was run away, there was always something that had to be done, or someone who needed something from her?

  No wonder Waylon had taken the chance to escape when he could. And it was no wonder, now that he was back, all he wanted to do was leave. This place was like a giant pit of quicksand from a cheesy action movie. Put even a toe in, or give a little bit of your heart to the ranch, and pretty soon you were in over your head, and the more you struggled to pull your way out, the deeper you sank.

  Waylon walked ahead of her as she trudged toward Wyatt. She could hear him telling his brother about the state of the bedroom and the missing ring.

  Wyatt looked around his brother and waved her over. “Do you have a picture of the ring we could give to the pawnshops in the area?”

  So even he thought her sister was going to sell it. Perhaps it was time she saw her sister for the person she really was—everyone else seemed to get it. They all saw Alli for the terrible person she had become, and they weren’t tethered to the past by their emotions. She had made choices that were unforgivable. She had cost people their lives and others their families. She had cost Winnie her mother, and she had cost Christina a sister.

  Some things were unforgivable—and heartbreaking. It was time that she truly let go of the person she had always thought her sister was. Alli simply wasn’t the girl Christina had known; rather, she had become some warped and heartless stranger.

  Waylon put his hand on the small of her back. “Do you have a picture of the ring?” he asked, repeating Wyatt’s question.

  She shook her head. “I don’t have one,” she said, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. “But the ring is one of a kind. It’s a three-carat cushion-cut diamond inlaid with blue sapphires.” Her voice cracked as she talked. It was unlikely she would ever see the ring again, and it was the last tangible thing that connected to her grandmother.

  “Don’t worry,” Eloise said, coming over and wrapping her in her arms. “The boys will find it and your sister. She couldn’t have gone far. It’ll turn up, and we’ll get this all figured out. We’ll find it.”

  The way Eloise repeated herself made it obvious that even she didn’t believe what she was saying, but Christina appreciated the attempt at comforting her.

  “And who knows,” Eloise said, giving Waylon a questioning look. “Maybe you will be getting a new ring soon.”

  What in the hell was the woman talking about?

  Christina pulled herself out of the woman’s grasp. There was no possible way Eloise could have known what Waylon felt for her, or what she felt for him. Heck, she barely knew what she felt toward the man. Sure, he was good-looking, and she kept imagining him between the sheets, but that was where things ended. She didn’t have the time or emotional space to deal with a man like him.

  She turned and started to walk away, unable to stand Eloise’s teasing look or the surprise on Waylon’s face. She couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t stand all the emotions that seemed to fill this place. Everyone had an agenda, and none of them were making her any less confused.

  “Where are you going?” Eloise called after her.

  She didn’t turn around. Instead, she waved behind her.

  “Wait,” Waylon called. She heard the crunch of gravel as he jogged to catch up. “With your sister out there, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be going anywhere alone. What are you thinking, anyways?”

  She got in the truck and waited for him as he jumped in next to her, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Are you going to tell me where you’re going?” Waylon asked again, pressing her for answers that she wasn’t ready to give.

  Christina started the truck, letting it rumble for a moment as it warmed up, and tried to collect her thoughts. The clouds that collected on the mountains had started to thicken and take on the dangerous gray color of a looming storm. It was an eerie reminder of her life. Just when she thought she had figured herself out and was on a forward path, storm clouds threatened to overtake her and make her lose sight of who she thought she was and what she thought she wanted. Yet with storms came the refreshing promise of rain, as long as one could survive the winds and lightning.

  She sighed at the thought.

  “What?” Waylon asked, looking over at her.

  “Nothing.”

  She looked up to the clouds one more time. She couldn’t decide who, exactly, was the most destructive force in her life, between her sister—who left pain and chaos in her wake—and Waylon, who, equally sexy and frustrating, seemed to make promises with his touch and his gaze that she knew he couldn’t keep. At least with her sister there was a hope that when they found her and she went to prison, maybe she could go back to the girl Christina had once known. If Christina allowed Waylon any deeper into her heart, she would be left with nothing but an identity in tatters.

  If she fell for him, her whole life would have to change again. And she couldn’t change what she wanted or who she was for him.

  The gravel of the driveway slipped and spattered as she gunned the engine and they roared out of the ranch and into the vast expanses of the pastures. Regardless of the threatening storms that rested on the horizon, she needed to get out of the place and escape her reality, if only for a few moments. She needed to find a sense of peace.

  Waylon reached over and put his hand on her thigh. The action was so unexpected and his hand was so warm that she jerked the wheel slightly, and the truck drifted off the road, catching a bit of the grass, which made a whipping sound against the metal.

  “Whoa, cowgirl. You okay? Are you sure you’re up for driving?” he asked, but he didn’t move his hand from her thigh.

  She shook her head and tried to ignore the way her heart thrashed in her chest as the heat of his touch intensified on her leg and radiated up to more forbidden places. She wasn’t going to find peace with him touching her like that.

  “I’m sorry about Winnie’s room. I’m sure that Wyatt will pull something usable from it,” Waylon said, having completely misread her emotions. “And at the very least, we got Winnie out in time.”

  Though he was thinking about something far different than her, she was glad he was talking about something that didn’t involve his hand on her thigh, or the way she didn’t really want him to move it, no matter how much he should. It felt so good to be touched by a man—and not any man, but Waylon Fitzgerald. The man she’d sworn to hate for a lifetime—but after having met him, she couldn’t even manage the feat for a day.

  Did he have that effect on all women?

  He was so serious, but under the facade was something so lovable, so kind and unexpectedly gentle that it was hard not to fall. Not that she was falling. No. She was just dipping her toes in the cool waters of Waylon Fitzgerald.

  After a few miles, they hit the deserted wilds of an old logging road. She’d been on it before, but only a few times, and when the road forked, she passed him a questioning glance. Without a word, he smiled and gestured to the left with his chin.

  Apparently, he was more than willing to take a minute and get lost together.

  She followed the dirt road deeper into the timber, until they were high on the mountain and the clouds seemed so close that if they reached out the window they could have touched them. She’d
always loved this part of living in Montana, where it seemed like in just a few minutes all were within a finger space of heaven.

  Bits of wet snow started to flutter down from the clouds, a tentative warning of what could come. Yet instead of turning around and getting off the hill that promised nothing but icy roads and danger if the storm cut loose, Christina pushed the truck deeper into the depths of nowhere.

  She glanced over at Waylon to see if she was making him nervous.

  For once, she could understand his desire to constantly be on the move. It was so much easier to live in the moment, to let the wind be her guide.

  The wet snow collected on the windshield, finally forcing her to turn on the wipers. Before the first pass moved over the glass, one front tire hit a rut, sending them jumping in the bench seat. Waylon had been jostled closer, making her heart race.

  She veered into a pullout next to the narrow road and threw the truck into Park. “Let’s go,” she said.

  “What? Wait,” Waylon said, grabbing her hand and stopping her from getting out of the truck. “Where are you going?”

  Christina motioned feebly toward the small game trail beside them. “Let’s hike.”

  He frowned. “We can’t hike. It’s starting to snow, and it’s going to be dark soon. What’s going on with you?” He took hold of their entwined fingers with his free hand. “What’s the matter? Is there something you’re not telling me about you and Alli? You know you can tell me anything. I’m not going to judge you.”

  She didn’t know if she believed him, and she most certainly didn’t dare admit the thing bothering her the most was her growing feelings for him.

  Waylon reached up and pushed a stray hair behind her ear as she turned to him. She looked up into his face. The gray clouds were reflected in his dark brown irises, but in his eyes the storm didn’t have the same ominous tone; instead, his eyes only seemed to promise that with one simple blink the storm would be gone and the sun would shine once again.