Stargazing (The Walker Family Book 2) (14 page)

“And did you read his books?”

“Only one. Under protest.”

“And?”

She let out groan. “I liked it. I liked it a lot. I’ve downloaded the others to my Kindle.”

He laughed. “Maybe it’s just a mutual appreciation.”

She liked that. Yes, that’s what it was.

“He invited me to go to his next tour stops.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know. I don’t know him, really. My luck with men is about as good as your luck with women.”

He choked on his lunch and sipped his water. “Well, you are my daughter aren’t you? Just say what you think.”

“Sorry,” she said hiding her smile behind her water glass.

“I know you can take care of yourself, so what are you afraid of?”

Bethany sat back in her chair. “What if I fall in love and come up short? What if I’m just like my mother and I drive him away?”

“And what if you’re a very different person and you find true love? My brother found it. I have been jealous of that marriage from day one. I’ll admit it. They love each other and stand by each other. But he had to make mistakes first.”

“Eric’s mother?”

“Yeah, but I think Eric turned out fine. Don’t tell him I said that.”

She laughed and pulled her plate closer. “You think I should go?”

“I think you should consider letting yourself actually feel what I think your heart has already felt.”

“That’s kinda deep, Dad.”

“I gamble at everything. Even matters of the heart. But once in awhile, when you win—you’re on top of the world.”

That part Bethany understood. It was when you lost there was sure destruction. She’d seen that too. Would Kent hate her forever if she broke his heart?

A keen sense of loss had crept into her chest and squeezed as she left the restaurant.

Lunch should have been relaxing. It had been a moment to bond with her father, so why was she leaving feeling so weighed down?

She knew why and she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to admit that every negative thing that had been said about her mother reflected on her.

Every muscle in her body was tense. Even her hair was weighing her down. She needed something. Something stirred in her that needed to be awakened. An energy burned in her core and even her breath became quickened.

Bethany hadn’t even been thinking of where she was driving until she pulled up in front of Kent’s hotel.

Maybe she just needed some company—some validation that she wasn’t Violet Waterbury.

Chapter Seventeen

Pearl had run her bridal boutique for four years, Kent had learned. She’d won some award too, for a bridal design, or something. It didn’t make sense to him.

The man Bethany had met at the coffee shop was her brother Jake. He was a mechanic during the day, but had quite a reputation as a race car driver. That was fascinating, he thought. He could always use that kind of information in a book.

Lydia seemed to be following in her mother’s footsteps in real estate. Her mother owned the building where the
Garden Room
was located and Lydia was part owner of the restaurant they’d dined at the other night. Her father was military and had passed. Her grandfather was some wealthy landowner who also had oil rights.

A lot had been written on Byron Walker over the years, Kent found. He’d skipped over a few articles, just to not become too knowledgeable. It seemed as though there was a reason Bethany wasn’t too close to him.

Eric Walker ran a horse boarding company which had been closed down earlier in the year when two horses died. A few weeks later his house had been set on fire and Eric had been shot.

Kent scooted the laptop closer to him and kept reading the article which had been published in a local paper.

Bethany had said that she and Eric were in the house when it caught fire, but she’d left out a key element. The house had been set on fire by Officer Douglas Brant after he’d shot Eric Walker and kidnapped Bethany Waterbury, daughter of Byron Walker.

Kent felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Officer Douglas Brant had been arrested after he was treated at a local hospital for a gunshot wound inflicted by Ms. Waterbury upon her escape from her captor.

Kent ran his hands through his hair. This maniac had hurt her. He’d shot her cousin and kidnapped her.

His stomach churned. What else had he done to her in that time?

Kent was sick, but he needed more. He needed to know that Bethany Waterbury hadn’t suffered at the hands of this man.

Blinking at the bottom of the screen was a link. Because of his searches, it had brought up other relevant topics.

The Death of actress Violet Waterbury.

Kent closed his laptop and rested his head against the headboard.

He wouldn’t go there right now. Bethany could share that with him when she was ready. Right now he’d get a shower and then call her. Knowing what she’d been through, he had a desperate need to be with her, protect her, and love her.

Setting his computer on the table, he headed toward the bathroom to take his shower, but not before the tone chimed on his phone, alerting him to a text from his sister.

Call me now!

Panic ripped through him as he hit the contact icon and then her picture. One ring and she answered.

“Have you done your homework on this woman you’re in love with?” His sister’s voice shrieked through the phone.

“I have. What are you doing? Snooping?”

“I’m just surfing the Internet.”

He couldn’t accuse her of anything. He’d done that too.

“Kent, she was kidnapped.”

He let out a breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I know. I read that.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“She told me she was in the house when it caught fire.”

“
Caught fire?
” Her voice rose in pitch again and he pulled the phone from his ear. “She was kidnapped. Her cousin was shot. That man set fire to the house. She shot that man! Her mother committed suicide—well overdosed, but… And…”

“Stop!” He stood. “Stop! You’re making me crazy.”

“Kent, this woman has a big past and you’re swooning over her.”

“Swooning?”

“Yes. Swooning. I know you. You’re jumping in with both feet and you don’t know her.”

But he did, he thought as he sat back down on the bed. He knew her soul and all of this drama wasn’t part of who she really was.

He thought about what his sister had said. “Her mother…”

“Drug addict, Kent. There’s a lot of information on her. I thought you said you’d read this stuff.”

“That’s where I stopped,” he admitted.

“Well, you’d better read it. She was a tart.”

“Hey!” he shouted in defense—though he didn’t know her.

“Seriously. She moved from person to person, place to place. Some of the articles are old enough to say
she and her young daughter.
” She let out an audible breath. “She was a prescription drug user and alcoholic, it says.
Violet Waterbury found dead from overdose of prescription sleeping pills. Daughter Bethany Waterbury discovered her mother’s body after she neglected to show for a photo shoot.
”

Kent felt the sharp pain of grief pierce his chest. “She found her?”

“Yep.”

“God, that’s horrible.”

“You need to figure out who this woman is,” his sister said. Desperation filled her voice.

“She’s a lost soul.”

“And you’re going to find her?”

“I think I have,” he admitted. None of the facts that he’d learned about her should change how he felt.

“You’re going to get hurt.”

“She’s hurt. What if I’m the person that makes it all better for her? What if…”

“What if you find her dead from some overdose?”

“That’s not fair!”

“I’m just saying. Kent, you’re good natured. You have a good heart. You’re lonely.”

“I’m not enjoying this attack on my character or hers,” he argued with her. “Is this why you called?”

“You know that’s not why. I worry about you.”

He winced. He knew she did. “I won’t let anything happen to me—or her.”

“Mom wants to meet her. It’s only a matter of time before dad finds this crap on the Internet and tells her about it.”

“She’ll freak out,” he admitted.

“Yes, she will.” There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. “You really care for her?”

“I know it’s crazy, but I do.”

“You’re a good judge of character.”

“Oh, I’m glad you said that. I was beginning to think you didn’t trust me with the good sense God gave me.”

Now she laughed. “Keep me posted, okay?”

“I will.”

“I forgot to ask about last night. You said you had company.”

Kent winced again. “Yeah. She stayed the night.”

“Already an intimate relationship? You are lonely.”

“No, actually it wasn’t that at all. She got sick after dinner and I took care of her.”

“Sick?”

“Too much wine with her dinner. She’d had a fight with her cousin’s fiancée, who she works for. She was just overwhelmed and got sick.”

“Kent, people get worked up all the time.”

“Right and they get sick from it.”

“You know—Hollywood is full of people with eating disorders.”

He growled. “And just because she was an actress, she has one?”

“I’m just saying. Maybe that’s what happened. If they eat a lot they purge.”

“You’re making me crazy. She does yoga and runs all the time. I don’t think that…”

“That’s an addiction too,” she added.

“You’re trying to get me to not like her and that’s not going to work,” he argued as he stood and walked to the bathroom. He hadn’t argued with his sister in a long time and he was remembering that he didn’t like it very much. She had to have that last word. She had to make her point.

“Just be mindful. If you love her then we will too.”

“I didn’t say I loved her.”

“You didn’t say you didn’t. Just be careful.”

“I will. I love you. Kiss the rugrats for me.”

“I will. Call me later, okay?”

He agreed and said goodbye then turned the shower on hot. His muscles were tense now and his mood had been shot. There had been a reason he hadn’t clicked on the link that discussed Violet Waterbury’s death. Now he wished he hadn’t made the phone call either.

Kent pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants just as there was a knock at the door.

Timing sucked, he thought and he headed to the bathroom. Whoever it was could just wait.

Just as he shut the door, he heard the knocking intensify. And he was fairly sure he heard a woman’s voice call his name.

He let out a groan, walked to the door, and pulled it open.

Kent hadn’t completely registered that it was Bethany before she pushed her way in and against him. Her mouth was quickly on his, hot and needing.

He kicked the door closed as he spun her against it.

Her fingers were on his chest and he was sure he might have a heart attack with her touching his bare skin. Oh, it would so be worth it, he thought as her nails dug into his skin.

Bethany laced her arms around his neck as he hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around him and the pressed their bodies even closer together.

He could die happy and he hadn’t even touched her.

“What are you doing here?” he managed between breaths before their mouths consumed each other’s again.

“Need—you,” she said, her breath labored as she took him under with another kiss that had his knees going weak.

A moment later she lifted her head. “Who’s in your shower?”

“Me.”

A laugh escaped her breathlessly. “You’re here.”

“Was getting in,” he tried to focus now on the conversation while he still had her wrapped around him.

She wiggled from his arms and looked toward the bathroom. “You’re alone?”

“Of course,” his voice cracked.

“Good,” she said as she pulled the dress off of her body and let it fall to the floor.

The blood quickly drained from his head and he leaned against the wall just to hold himself up. She stood before him in a matching set of pink lacy bra and panties. Yep, this is exactly how his fantasies of her had begun.

“I’m joining you,” she said as she unclasped the bra and dropped it atop the dress.

He forced himself to breathe as she winked at him and disappeared into the bathroom.

Chapter Eighteen

Kent rolled over on his back and panted. His body was slickened with sweat and his hair showed the obvious trailing where Bethany had run her fingers through.

She rolled to her side and twirled the small tuft of hair on his chest around her finger. Did she know this was what she needed when she left the restaurant? Or had she caused a rip in the nice, calm relationship they were building?

“What are you thinking?” Kent asked, his breathing still labored.

“Are you sorry we…”

“Are you really going to ask me that after the shower, the counter, the floor, the bed, the chair, the bed…”

“Okay,” she laughed. “I guess not.”

Kent rolled to face her. “Are you sorry?”

“No. I’m not sorry. I’m scared.”

He pushed at her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Why are you scared?”

“This is where it ends. This is the point that I don’t know how to have a relationship.”

He narrowed his gaze on her and traced his finger over her shoulder. “Your relationships end with sex? Isn’t that when they’re supposed to get serious?”

She watched his eyes. They didn’t hold judgment and neither had his words. Seriously, wouldn’t a man usually get upset when he considered the woman in his bed having been with other men?

“I come from a place where sex isn’t based on relationships of the heart. They’re deal makers.”

Now there was the shift in his gaze. “So there is no chance in assuming sex is love?”

“Right,” she agreed as he sat up.

“Did you come here to make a deal?”