Stay (Dunham series #2) (13 page)

Eric’s jaw dropped. “Vanessa? How was
Vanessa
your mom’s key to Knox?”

She stared at him. “You don’t know?”

“Know
what
?”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, covering her mouth with
her fingertips, incredulous. “He never told you. You don’t know
anything about her, do you?”

“No. I haven’t— I have no reason to. She’s just—” He
spread his arms wide, unable to make sense of this conversation.
“She’s the girl who— Yeah, saved my ass. What else am I supposed to
know?”

She took a deep breath. “Everyone in town knew that
if they so much as looked at Vanessa wrong, they’d have to answer
to Knox. He also made sure Vanessa showed up at the prosecutor’s
office after school or practice and stayed until she had her
homework done—to his satisfaction. If she didn’t show up on time,
he went looking for her. You know how Knox collects people and
makes projects out of them? Because it’s his fucked-up way of
atoning for his sins? That’s what everybody thought it was with
Vanessa, and who could blame him? With a mother like LaVon?

“Well. My mother decided that the easiest way to get
to Knox was through Vanessa. She made me recruit Vanessa for the
varsity cheerleading squad when she was
thirteen
—because she
thought Vanessa would be so grateful to me that she’d bend over
backward to hook her up with him. When that didn’t work, she went
out of her way to make Vanessa late for Knox’s version of study
hall as often as possible just to get his attention.”

Eric’s mind blew all to hell.

All this time. Knox had never said a word.

But Annie recommenced pacing and muttering to
herself. “Of course, it’s all
my
fault that he never asked
her out and she still can’t shut up about it. And what’s worse—
She’s pissed at
me
that after all the older women in Knox’s
life, he ends up marrying a woman four years younger than me. And
she still dyes her hair red in case his marriage doesn’t work
out.”

“So that’s why Knox hates your mother? Because she
was using Vanessa to get to him?”

She stopped pacing and glared at him. “Yes. Which I
thought you knew.”

But no. Quite a few of the older women in the county
had done ridiculous things to get Knox’s attention. It was just a
way of life in Chouteau County. It wouldn’t have occurred to Eric
that Knox’s aversion to Donna Franklin had any more depth than his
aversion to the rest of the women who’d thrown themselves at
him.

“So is this really about Knox and your mom?” Eric
asked carefully.

“No. It’s about the fact that not only have I been
hearing about Vanessa nonstop for the last fifteen years, but the
minute she reappears, my
fiancé
—Mr. Pragmatic—takes one look
at her and falls head over heels in love. One shot. Boom,
done.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Don’t yell at me. I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad
at Vanessa. I’m mad at my mother and the situation. Besides my job,
you were the only thing in my life that had nothing to do with
Vanessa Whittaker. As far as I knew, you didn’t even know Simone
had a little sister, and now I find out that not only is that not
true, you probably wouldn’t even be alive without her.”

Eric flinched.

She threw one hand in the air. “You are so messed
up. It was all you could do in there not to get on your knees and
kiss her feet. Gratitude. Hero worship. Whatever you want to call
it, but you’ve got some other neuroses mixed up in there besides a
hard-on and being—” She made air quotes, which he hated. “‘—in
love.’”

“Annie,” Eric growled.

“Shut up. That—” She stabbed a finger in the
direction of the school. “—kicked me in the teeth, watching you get
all flustered so much you were mean to her. I cannot believe I
never saw it before.
You
are a romantic. What, did you catch
that disease at BYU, and it’s just been in remission all this
time?” She paused. “By the way, why
were
you mean to her?
You only get that way when you know you’ve screwed up.”

His jaw tightened and he looked away. Annie threw up
a hand. “Of course! What did you do?”

“I never thanked her,” he muttered reluctantly.
“I’ve never spoken to her before.”

“No wonder she looked like you’d just killed her
dog.”

Eric said nothing while he stared at the ground and
worried a twig with his foot. “Okay, Annie,” he murmured,
guilt-ridden. “I’m
not
in love with her, but I get your
point and I’m sorry. What do you want to do?”

Silence stretched between them. “I was offered a
promotion yesterday, up in Omaha,” she said finally, low, her voice
full of what Eric heard as resignation. Regret. “Regional director
of sales. I didn’t get a chance to turn it down before my boss had
to go, but now I think . . . I don’t know. I need to think about
this, with you and me.”

“What about globetrotting and collecting cabana
boys?” Eric asked, grasping at straws.

“Look, the only thing being a
former—
divorced
—First Lady will get me is prestige and swag
and freebies along the way, but my privacy’ll be history. And you
know I think it’s a shit job anyway. So it’ll take me a little
longer to get to financial independence, but at least I won’t be
obligated or accountable to anybody.”

Eric nodded slowly, seeing half his life crumble in
front of his eyes, but strangely detached from it, as if it didn’t
really matter.

That disturbed him.

Neither spoke while Annie breathed deeply to calm
herself. After a moment, she said, “I liked Vanessa way back when.
I think I’d still like her because she’s obviously successful at
whatever the hell she does, and you know how much I like hanging
out with powerful women who know what’s what. But I’m tired of
being compared to her and coming out second best. You’ve spent the
last fifteen years horsewhipping yourself over her and I really
don’t want to know you’re thinking about what could have been with
her when you’re married to me.”

“I understand.” He did, and he couldn’t promise he
wouldn’t do exactly what she’d predicted. Annie knew him too
well.

“I’ll walk home,” she murmured, taking his hand for
balance while she pulled her shoes off. “I need time to think.
Whichever way this goes, it isn’t going to be easy for either one
of us.”

Eric sighed and dug his Glock out of the back of his
waistband and traded it for her shoes. She checked the gun
carefully, then stuck it in the waistband of her skirt.

“Be careful,” was the only thing he could
muster.

She strode off then, gorgeous as always, he noted
absently, all that blonde hair and blue eyes, that tall, lissome
supermodel body: the quintessential country beauty complete with
cheerleading, 4H, and barrel racing credentials, and oh, by the
way, an Ivy League education and a bank account far bigger than
his.

Eric ambled toward his Corvette, his head low, one
hand stuffed in his pocket and the other absently swinging Annie’s
shoes. He dropped into the bucket seat. Sliding down, he let his
head fall back and he couldn’t help the thought that breaking up
with Annie might be . . . a relief.

That shocked the hell out of him, but what shocked
him more—

It didn’t surprise him that she’d instantly deduced
his Vanessa-related angst. It was the “in love” part that killed
him.

In love? No, but Annie knew less about love than
Eric did and dismissed it just as easily. However, Annie did know
his tastes and his history and his habits, so he could see where
she’d interpret an instant hard-on as falling in love.

Vanessa Whittaker, all grown up with curves worthy
of a Varga pinup.

Average height, maybe five feet six, seven inches,
much shorter than Annie’s five-eleven. Thick, professionally cut
mid-back-length chestnut hair randomly streaked with blonde. Slight
tan to her golden skin, even this early in the spring.

She had an air of primitive sexuality about her that
her expensive grooming couldn’t camouflage. Her voice was husky,
her perfume sultry and . . .
dark
, earthy. She had those
piercing turquoise eyes that held the same deep hurt they’d held
when she was thirteen and had only deepened when he’d snapped at
her. But before he’d “killed her dog,” he’d seen . . .

Desire.

And now . . .

Eric might be free.

Vanessa was an adult.

Those facts seeped into Eric’s brain and he wondered
if he had any competition, but decided it didn’t matter. Boyfriend
or lover or husband be damned, Eric knew she wanted to get him in
bed.

But she was still hurt, still wary, and she couldn’t
hide that any better than she could hide her blatant sexuality.

And he’d hurt her feelings. Again.

“God, Vanessa,” he whispered into the dark, his hand
over his arousal, pressing, rubbing until he forced himself to
stop. It really wouldn’t do for the Chouteau County prosecutor to
fog up his windows and get caught jacking off in front of Chouteau
Elementary.

And another thing . . . where the hell did she
live?

Really, the last thing he needed in this town was to
be involved sexually with a Whittaker girl. He’d already been
punished for
not
being involved sexually with a Whittaker
girl.

On the other hand, between Simone and LaVon’s
scheming and Vanessa’s rescue, Eric had a life he had never hoped
for. At seventeen, he’d been desperate to hide his course load and
grades from his party pals, desperate to hide his dreams from
everyone, including himself. If the Whittakers had not happened to
him, he would still be managing the Chouteau County Feed and Tack,
probably with kids by a few different women and no way to pay child
support, his wispy aspirations dissipated with the first
garnishment on his paycheck.

And Vanessa . . .

. . . willing to take in “his” kid, the kid he
hadn’t known how to help, except to pay for whatever he stole.

. . . the way the kid had snuggled up against her at
the slightest kindness.

. . . the way she had overcome her surprise
instantly to pull the boy close and give him comfort.

Eric found that incredibly attractive.

Annie would’ve never done that, and he wondered . .
.

No. He couldn’t go down that road no matter how much
he wanted to. Too many issues, too many problems, too much water
that had passed under that particular bridge.

With those depressing thoughts, he heaved a sigh of
great disappointment and drove home to await Annie’s verdict.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked when Annie came in the
front door at three A.M. “I was about to go looking for you.”

“I,” Annie said calmly as she put the gun in its
place and began to undress, “have been at my mother’s.”

His eyebrows rose. “Voluntarily?”

She was down to her lingerie when she dropped on the
couch beside him. “Well, you know,” she said matter-of-factly, “it
was an experiment. By the time I got there, I’d decided it was no
big deal, your thing about Vanessa. I mean, therapy’s always an
option and shit, I don’t care if you fuck her as long as you’re
discreet.”

“Uh . . . ”

“Or, hey! All three of us could have a little party,
if she’s into that. She’s hot. I’d do her.”

“Uh . . . ” His mind shut down.

“Yes, Eric, I have.”

“Why don’t I know that?”

“I didn’t find it interesting enough to tell
you.”

His curiosity took over. “So, girls . . . ?”

“A couple of times,” she replied airily. “It just
isn’t the same without a real penis. But for her? Yeah. So my
mother,” she went on, “hit me up about Knox the minute I walked in
the door, and I’m listening to her going on and on and on, thinking
about all the times Knox told me to cut her off, wondering why I’m
sitting there like a naughty little girl allowing myself to be
yelled at over a fifteen-year-old situation that’s not my doing and
not in my power to fix, even if I wanted to.”

“And?”

“And I decided she’s too toxic and I can’t take it
anymore. I got up and walked out.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Just like I’m going to walk on up
to Omaha to take that promotion because I’m not going to live that
way, caught between her obsession and your angst. I’ll sleep in the
other bedroom tonight and pack up tomorrow. I would suggest that
you talk to Vanessa as soon as you can and apologize for killing
her dog. Poor girl.”

Eric sighed. “Monday, I guess. She’ll have to talk
to me then.”

Thus, he wasn’t sure why he found himself at
Vanessa’s motel room door early the next morning to ask her out for
breakfast. She answered the door in a thick robe, shocked to see
him there. He grimaced when her shock gave way to contempt and
bitterness, no trace of desire to be found.

He knew he’d gone down in flames just by showing up,
but he made his request anyway and almost flinched at her sneer.
And then—

“Are you out of your
fucking
mind?!” she
growled just before slamming the door in his face.

Though deeply embarrassed and feeling his confusion,
his guilt, even more heavily than usual, it did actually occur to
him that at the moment she’d spoken, she’d looked and sounded
exactly like a female brunette version of Knox Hilliard.

And no wonder.

Everyone in town knew that if they so much as looked
at Vanessa wrong, they’d have to answer to Knox. He also made sure
Vanessa showed up at the prosecutor’s office after school or
practice and stayed until she had her homework done—to his
satisfaction.

Eric went home to find half-packed boxes strewn
about the place, but Annie sitting on the couch with her laptop in
her lap, her mouth agape. “Eric, you’ve got to see this.”

And it was like nothing had changed, like he and
Annie hadn’t broken up. He plopped down beside her, intending to
autopsy their relationship a bit more, but his attention caught
when Annie turned her screen toward him.