Rodeo: A Bad Boy Romance (FMX Bros Book 2) (21 page)

We walked at his unique pace off the dance floor. Ethan was across the room. He’d made himself comfortable at the booth with the girls. “So, Ethan talked you into coming out tonight?”

“Yeah, it had been a long day of inputting data,” I glanced pointedly at him, “and gingerbread baking. Besides, it seemed your dad really wanted the house to himself. He still had papers to grade.”

He stopped and looked at me. “Is that what he told you?”

I thought back to the conversation to be sure. “Yes, that’s what he said. Maybe he just wanted to be alone and that was the first excuse that came to him,” I added quickly. But there was still an edge of suspicion in his expression.

“Dad cleaned his work out of my room yesterday morning. He’d said he was all done grading essays, so I could have the room to myself again.”

“Maybe I misheard him then. Although—” I started to mention the car but then thought better of it.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” I walked forward but he grabbed my arm.

“Tell me.”

“It’s just that tonight when we drove down the road from your house, a car turned onto it, and it looked a lot like the car that we saw drive off after snowmobiling.”

His expression darkened.

“But I could be completely wrong. I know nothing about cars. And Ethan thought they were probably just lost.”

“Cars don’t accidentally turn up that road.” He confirmed exactly what I’d thought. He looked across the room toward his brother. “Whatever the hell my dad is up to, Ethan is in on it.”

I’d now successfully created more tension between the brothers, and Dalton pulsed with it as we approached the booth. The girls smiled congenially and scooted over for Dalton and me to slide in.

Ethan looked at the girls. “Kate, Stacey, this is August. She’s helping my dad and me out with a project for the university.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said. They smiled again in return.

Dalton picked up his beer and stared contemplatively at it for a moment before turning to his brother. My stomach clenched into a knot. “What was Dad up to tonight, Ethan?”

“How should I know? Grading papers, I think.”

Dalton shook his head and took a long sip of beer. The mug hit the table hard. “He finished grading papers. Auggie said that black car was heading back up to the house.”

Ethan scowled at me.

“I said a car was heading up the road.” Now it was my turn to scowl. “Dalton, you’re twisting my words.”

“Sorry, you’re right.” But when the guy had something in his craw he didn’t let it go. “Pretty strange coincidence that a car just like the other one was heading toward the house, don’t you think, Ethan?” Anger floated across the table toward Ethan, and the girls wisely excused themselves.

As Kate slid out, she stopped, leaned over and kissed Dalton on the mouth. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.” I watched them scurry off and wondered if I should have followed them.

“I’m getting a little tired of all this suspicious questioning, Dalton. Like I said, you’re never around, and you’ve made it clear that what Dad and I do doesn’t interest you, so drop the damn subject.”

Dalton stared hard at his brother. “That makes it pretty fucking clear that something is up.” His friends, Kate and Stacy, were headed back across the floor to us, and I, for one, was relieved to see them. I hoped their return would break some of the tension.

“Dalton, honey,” Kate said flirtatiously enough to make my toes curls in my boots, “we’re heading over to Tricia’s place for a get together. This place is way too crowded tonight.” She put her hand out, and my toes curled even more as Dalton took it and pushed to his feet.

Dalton looked down at me and I forced a smile and waved. “Have a good time.” He looked slightly hurt by my easy dismissal of him, but, truthfully, there was nothing easy about it. I wanted him to stay, but it seemed my earlier rejection of his kiss was going to haunt me forever. And now, more than ever, I wanted that kiss.

I watched Dalton take the long, arduous steps to the exit, a girl under each arm, and like always, it seemed as if all the energy in the room followed him out the door.

Chapter 12

Professor North had cooked a delicious breakfast from which Dalton had been noticeably absent. Ethan and I had left the saloon just hours after his brother’s departure. I’d had my quota of beer and as the night wore on, the music eventually went from sounding great to sounding loud and obnoxious. Ethan and I were both antiquities majors and we attended the same school, and yet, we’d had little to talk about. At one point during the rather long evening, his phone rang and he’d jumped up to answer it in the quiet of the restroom. I was sure it had been his ex-girlfriend, Veronica, and after a rather short conversation with her, Ethan had been so distracted he was even less entertaining.

The large breakfast had made me sleepy, and I yawned and stretched before returning my fingers to the keyboard.

“I’m afraid this work is even more boring with a hangover,” Ethan said from across the room where he had busied himself with a few books that had nothing to do with work.

“It’s the carbohydrate laden breakfast food rather than the beers,” I responded without looking away from the computer. “Makes me want to take a nap.”

“My dad made enough to feed an army. I think he was expecting Dalton to be home.”

I stared down at the keyboard, but the numbers had flown out of my head. Ethan seemed to notice that I’d been thrown off by his mention of Dalton.

“I told you my brother jumps from girl to girl with no thought to their feelings.”

I faced him. “That girl, Kate, invited him. Are you telling me she doesn’t know your brother? Because she seemed to know him quite well.”

“They’ve been friends since high school.” He looked down and fingered the raised title on the book cover. “You’re right. Kate knows him very well. Besides, he’s probably smart not to take any girl too seriously. They are nothing but heartbreak.”

“Uh, we’re not all that ruthless.”

He tilted his head. “Really? Because as I recall, a young coed who went by the nickname, Auggie, very recently smashed the heart of Trenton Peters. Rumors were swirling like chocolate in a fudge ripple scoop of ice cream.”

“Wow, our school really needs to provide more extracurricular activities. The student body has far too much time on their hands.” I sighed. “I really did try with Trenton, but he was so damn—”

“Arrogant?”

“Yeah, he dripped with condescension.”

“Veronica had that problem too, but I could have easily overlooked it if she would have had enough backbone to stand up to her ultra-snobbish parents.”

“You should consider yourself lucky then, Ethan. Every girl on campus dreams about you. You’ll find someone worthy of your love.”

“Thanks, Auggie. But I don’t think it’s
every
girl.”

“Well, all right then, ninety percent.”

A smile split his face, and he stacked the books he’d been reading back on the shelf. “I was just about to go out and get some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“Yes please.” And then something on the shelf caught my eye. “That’s strange,” I muttered not really meaning to speak out loud.

Ethan glanced over at me and then followed my gaze to the statue of Osiris.

“It’s nothing, only I was working in here all day yesterday and I could swear that Osiris was facing that south window. Now the statue is facing this direction.”

“Maybe you just forgot that it was facing this direction,” Ethan said brusquely.

“You’re right. Or I guess it’s possible your dad had gone into the safe to look at the arm band. I know he’ll be sad to see it go.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it. Cream and sugar?”

“Just cream.”

Ethan walked out, and I stared at the statue for a moment longer. The almond shaped, heavily lined eyes of the statuette stared at me from across the room. It had definitely been facing the opposite direction the day before. I was sure of it. I smiled at the sleek little god of afterlife and thought about how Ethan immediately acted nervous when I’d brought it up. “I’ll bet you have some secrets to tell.”

***

I’d spent another two hours on the computer and then went to my room to read. And all the while I listened for the uneven footsteps in the hallway. The afternoon passed and Dalton had not returned.

Professor North had prepared macaroni and cheese, but even as hungry as I was, I’d swirled the noodles around on my plate through most of the meal. At his dad’s request, Ethan had sent his brother several text messages just to see if ‘he was still alive’ but there had been no response. My mood bordered on despondent, and I could not have been angrier at myself for feeling that way.

I’d volunteered to do the dishes and took my time with the mindless task to pass the evening away. In my head I’d calculated the amount of time I needed to finish the boxes in the office. I’d been working at a rate of ten pieces an hour, and if the remaining boxes held the usual amount of samples then I should have all the artifacts entered in the data base in four days. It was not going to take the full two weeks that the professor had calculated and then I’d have no reason to stick around. Christmas was in eight days, and it seemed very likely that I would be spending it alone in my small apartment on campus. 

I trudged wearily to my bedroom. Ethan and his father were deep in conversation in the office as I passed. They certainly had a lot to discuss.

The downy quilt on the bed felt like heaven as I tucked myself in and curled up. The quiet of the house and the peaceful sounds of a winter’s night helped me fall asleep quickly even in my blue mood.

***

My eyes popped open. I stared into the darkness of the bedroom trying to figure out at first exactly where I was and then what I’d heard. In my dream I’d heard an agonized yell. Muffled voices and footsteps pounded the wood floor in the narrow hallway. I jumped up and slid my feet into my fluffy slippers. A light flicked on in the hallway just as I opened my door.

I looked down the hall. Ethan was standing in Dalton’s doorway looking grave and upset. I could hear Professor North’s deep distinctive tone float out through the open door. I walked up to Ethan.

He turned to me and forced away his look of concern. “Everything is fine, Auggie.” He took my hand and led me toward my room. “Dalton had a nightmare. Something he’s been dealing with since Iraq, I’m afraid.” We stopped at my doorway, and the grim look reappeared on his face. “Can’t imagine the horrific visions and memories he has haunting his sleep. He’ll be fine in the morning. Try not to worry.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

I shut the door and climbed into bed. I sat up for a long time, my arms wrapped around myself to stop the shivering, but it wasn’t cold inside the room, it was cold inside my heart. I could hear the professor’s deep voice through the walls, but I couldn’t decipher what he was saying. What could he say? What could a man say to comfort a son who had lived through some of the worst life has to offer?

I pulled the cover up to my chin like I’d done as a young girl when I was certain the closet monsters were coming out to get me, but I couldn’t relax enough to sleep. The house was quiet and dark again. I climbed back into my slippers. I peeked out into the hallway and everything was still. I tiptoed to the kitchen hoping a glass of milk would make me sleepy.

I scuttled around the corner, and a gasp stuck in my throat. The refrigerator door was open, and the light pouring out illuminated his broad bare back, showing every line of hard muscle . . . and every small scar. There were many. His pajama pants hung low on his narrow hips, and I stood as quiet as a mouse for a guilty second and stared at his incredible physique.

He still had not heard me, and I wondered if he was still lost in the agony of his bad dream. I tiptoed without a sound, but as I neared he seemed to sense me. He continued to stare into the refrigerator as if he expected something to jump out into his hands.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“Please don’t apologize.” His shoulders tensed as I moved closer to him. Even in front of an open refrigerator, heat rolled off of him in searing waves.

He shut the door but didn’t turn around. He leaned his forehead against the freezer door. I stepped closer. My hand trembled slightly as I reached up and touched him. The muscles of his back tightened and then relaxed. I trailed my fingers over the tiny scars that were splattered across his shoulders. The tiny ridges were hard, and I could feel the pain of each one in my fingertips. I stood on my toes and lowered my mouth to his skin. He sucked in a sharp breath as I pressed my lips to the scars. I kissed him over and over again wanting to absorb the pain that still clung to him physically and mentally. And he let me kiss him. His broad shoulders lifted and fell with each shallow breath as I ran my lips across his marred skin.

I lifted my mouth and whispered against his shoulder. “That kiss I turned down—” I pressed my lips against the hollow between his shoulder blades. “I may never forgive myself.”

Dalton turned around. The green of his eyes looked pale in the dim moonlight falling through the window panes. His hands reached up and took hold of each side of my face. He lowered his face and his mouth grazed mine just as the floor of the dining room creaked with footsteps.

“Dalton?” Professor North called through the dark.

He released me and I nearly cried out in disappointment.

Professor North walked into the kitchen. “Oh, Auggie, you’re here too. I guess it has been a restless night for all of us then. I’ll heat some tea.”

“Not for me,” Dalton said. He opened the refrigerator again and pulled out the milk.

Professor North reached up into the cupboard for a box of tea. “I really wasn’t talking to you, Dalton. Let’s face it, you’re not exactly the tea type.” He stopped and looked at his son. “Pour some milk and come sit at the table, Dalton. Milk and conversation might help chase away the dark thoughts.”

Dalton poured the milk and stared at me over the brim of his glass as he drank it down. Professor North handed me a cup with a tea bag brewing in hot water. “Lemon verbena, it’s very relaxing.”

Dalton sat reluctantly at the table. He made no effort to hide the fact that he was watching me. I wanted him to watch me. I wanted his eyes on me.

“Dalton,” Professor North spoke, and it seemed we’d both nearly forgotten that he was sitting at the table with us. “Maybe you should consider going back to a therapist. There is no reason for you to deal with this on your own when there is help available.”

Dalton looked at me for a long, silent moment and then he dragged his gaze away and turned to his dad. “The only thing the therapist did was push pills on me. Between the mind bending drugs and the pain killers, my head was in such a deep fog I didn’t know my left hand from my right. Not feeling anything, physically or mentally, was a good thing at the time, but it’s no way to live.”

Professor North stared down at his cup. His torment showed plainly on his face. “That does sound awful, Dalton. I’m sorry the therapist didn’t have more to offer you.”

“I’ll get through it, Dad.”

“I know you will. I’ve never known anyone tougher or more resilient than you, Dalton.” It was the nicest thing I’d heard him say to his son.

A quiet fell over the table. I sipped my tea wondering if I was going to be able to sleep again or if the near kiss would keep me tossing and turning the rest of the night.

“Dad,” Dalton said suddenly, “who are the men who have been coming to see you at the house?”

It was the last question I’d expected him to ask, but his dad seemed prepared for it. Professor North lowered his cup to the table. “Those were men from the Egyptian embassy.”

Dalton waited for him to elaborate.

“As you can imagine, now that we’ve learned that the arm band had likely belonged to Cleopatra, word has gotten out and museum curators from all over the world have been contacting the university. Of course, the Egyptian government insists it be returned to them to take its rightful place in the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities. They’ve visited me several times in hopes that I will help the university make the right decision.” His explanation was more than plausible, and he delivered it with enough ease to erase any suspicion Dalton might have had. It was only hard to understand why Ethan had not just divulged the information in the first place.

Dalton nodded silently. “Well, I’m heading back to bed.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. Once again his gaze fell on me and I felt it so strongly, it felt as if he’d reached across and touched my face. “Good night, Auggie.”