The Naked Truth (The Honeybrook Hamdens Book 1) (3 page)

"We'll see, I guess. I'm not even sure if she'll show. She's been traveling all day. Anyway, we've got more important stuff to worry about. I'm gonna head down to the basement and see if I can sort out that tank. Meet me when you're done with the bar."

Chase nodded. When he heard the basement door close, he tossed the rag onto the bar top and leaned against one of the bar's long oak pillars.

Julie frickin’ Hamden.

Julie was back in town after all this time. It had been almost ten years since...

Well, she probably wouldn't remember that.

He rolled his eyes at himself. Even he couldn’t delude himself that much. There was no doubting she remembered every disastrous detail of their would-be relationship. She might even still feel the sting of the way things had ended...the way he did.

But that had been a long time ago.

Even if she held a grudge, it wasn't something that he couldn't talk her into working past. All he had to do was see her again. Talk to her. Tell her what a huge mistake he'd made.

He thought back to that night, their last night together. He'd climbed up the tree outside of her bedroom window, then crawled inside her room. She'd just gotten home from her date with Joey Stevens.

Joey Stevens. The name made his nose wrinkle even now.

He'd been one of the running backs on the high school football team, and even though Luke had been beside himself at the idea of one of his friends dating his little sister, Joey had gone out with her anyway. Chase suppressed a smile; in the yearbook prom pictures, you could still see Joey's swollen lip.

Damn, had Luke been salty about that. Not that Julie cared. Back then, Julie hadn't given a damn about anything or anyone if it got in the way of what she wanted. That was what made her so cool.

That was what made her Julie.

He wondered briefly if she was still like that. If she still had the same easy, too-big smile. If her front tooth was still the slightest bit crooked. If she still kept her hair one shade darker than Amy's light blond waves.

Probably not. She'd likely changed just as much as he had. Hell, after she'd packed up and headed out of town, he'd hardly heard anything about her. Luke had been too consumed with finishing this place to mention her, and knowing Julie, she wasn't too eager to pick up the phone and fill everyone in on her life.

Maybe that was better, though.

If he'd kept track of her, he might not have been able to move on. It might have ruined his relationship with Luke. Their business, this bar, might never have happened.

And then where would he be?

In Julie Hamden's bed...

He shoved the thought away.

Not likely.

No, he would have ruined two Hamden relationships instead of one. It would have been a horrible mistake. And, at the root of it, that's why he'd done what he had. He'd made a mistake that night, but it had been almost ten years ago now. Julie would have moved on the way he had.

She'd probably had other lovers, other plans...

His gut twisted at the thought, but he moved from the bar, squaring his shoulders as he made his way to the basement door.

If he saw Julie tonight--and he probably wouldn't--he'd treat her the way he was always supposed to. Like a long lost little sister. Like an old friend he hadn't seen in a long, long time.

With any luck, Julie would have matured enough by now to follow his lead.  After all, she'd been mature enough not to let Luke in on their little secret over all these years.

If he was here tonight, there was no way she'd let it all out now.

Yes, he was safe from the truth.

But whether he was safe from her fury...

He cringed.

That was yet to be determined.

A
my set
the table like it was an Olympic sport. Every dish had a flourish, every piece of cutlery was placed with finesse, and when Luke came stomping in and announced she’d need to drag in another seat for the table, she sneered at him like he’d done her a serious injustice.

Of course, Julie watched the whole thing from afar. She’d been sitting by the window, doing her homework and watching Chase and Luke play catch outside while spying on Amy from the living room.

“Did you ask mom?” Amy asked, but her mother’s voice echoed back just as quickly.

“There’s always enough for Chase.”

“Always.” Amy rolled her eyes and trotted back into the kitchen, but Luke ignored her and headed for the place where Julie sat watching the show.

“You know what’s for dinner?”

“Pork chops. Chase’s favorite.”

“I know, why do you think I’m here?” Chase stalked in from the foyer, a wide grin on his face and she did her best not to beam back at him. At least, not in front of her brother. It would seem dirty somehow, tainted, to smile at him in front of anyone else. For anyone else to see.

Of course, the struggle had become that much worse since Chase’s mother had gotten married. It seemed like he’d been at their house for dinner more nights than even Luke was, and though Chase never spoke about why that might be, Julie had her suspicions.

She hated those suspicions, but she had them all the same.

“What’re you doing, Jules?” Chase asked.

“I need to do a retake on my geometry test.”

Amy made a little throat clearing sound from the next room, but Julie ignored her.

“Need some help?” Chase asked.

“Maybe later, yeah.” Heat rose in her cheeks and she hated herself for it.

“Great. I’ll be here,” he said.

You always are…and it’s killing me. She wanted to say. Wanted, but couldn’t.

It had been thirty minutes since the glow of Amy’s presence had descended upon them and already Julie  felt sunburned. They were circled around what little of the kitchen table had been cleared off--which was, essentially, a single corner of the twelve-seater her gran used to keep in the place.

As they sat, polishing the silver their mother had found stuffed inside a 1920's picnic basket, Julie could only think of how much better everything might have been if Luke had been with them.

At least then she would have had an ally--someone who'd roll his eyes when Mom started singing Amy's numerous praises. Someone to help fend off all the endless questions about what exactly she planned to do with her life.

But no, she was here, defenseless and listening as her sister prattled on about the new finishing touches she and her husband had added to their living room.

"Wainscoting is always so elegant. It reminds me of the way Gran used to keep the music room. You know, before this." Amy waved a hand absently to the teetering stack of newspapers beside her.

"I'm sure that looks lovely." Their mother nodded her approval, then reached for another polishing cloth.

"It does. We had a dinner party to show it off. All the girls loved it." Amy smiled that same picture-perfect grin she always sported when talking about her house. Like she was in some kind of commercial for good housekeeping.

"I'm so glad." Mom held a spoon to the light, blew on it, and then set it on the table in front of her. "That looks better." She nodded, then, as if waking from a dream, she glanced from Julie to Amy and said, "So, I hope your next project is a nursery."

Amy blinked, her Stepford smile momentarily slipping from her face. When she realized her error, she plastered it right back on and said, "Jeff and I haven't decided."

"I hope you do soon. I'm getting a little old to be a Grandmom."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how that works, Mom." Julie said, and then sat her newly-polished fork in front of her.

For a second, she thought she caught Amy looking at her with something akin to gratitude, but she was distracted when her mother spoke again. "Well, you're no spring chicken, either, Miss."

"I'm not even thirty yet."

"By the time I was your age, I'd already
had
all my children." She raised her greying eyebrows, but Julie ignored her.

"Times are different now."

"Yes, women are more focused on their careers," Amy chimed in. "Mom tells me things are going really well in New York, Jules."

Julie did her best to hold back a cringe, then nodded. "They sure are. Great."

"Are you still with that guy with the motorcycle?" Amy pried. "Juan Pablo? I always liked him."

"Yeah, that was his name, but no. We’re not together.“ Though 'liked' might have been the overstatement of the century. As Julie recalled, Amy had a not-so-small meltdown when Don Pablo's motorcycle had dinged her brand new MINI Cooper two Thanksgivings ago.

"Oh, shame." Amy frowned, but their mother cut in.

"Julie has a
new
man. He drives a Lexus."

Mom said the word "Lexus" like is was the socially acceptable equivalent of saying the guy had a shlong the size of the Washington Monument.

Which, it definitely had not been.

Not even close.

"Do you like him?" Amy asked.

"Yeah, he's nice." Julie nodded. There had to be something else they could talk about. Maybe Amy's...no. Talking any more about Amy's inane life was going to send Julie diving off the roof.

Before that, they'd talked about the house, and whenever they talked about Luke Mom got this weird sad look on her face...

But she had to change the subject somehow. Maybe if she brought up politics. Or sex. Or old family dramas that had never been resolved. Surely that might be easier to cope with.

"Nice?" Mom spluttered. "Julie, you're being modest. Amy, you'd love him. He took us to the most charming tea room and he's so sweet. Like Jeff, almost."

This time Julie couldn't hide her wince, but luckily, when she looked up Amy seemed to have a grimace all her own.

How odd...

Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure her sister had mentioned her lawyer-in-shining-armor since she’d sat down. That had to be a record, right? How often did Amy go for five minutes at a time without mentioning some stunning vacation Jeff had planned, or some darling little piece of jewelry he’d picked up for her “just because.”

Julie reached into the silver box, but came up empty. It was done. Finally, blissfully, over. "Bummer. All out. You know, guys, I think I'm gonna go into town and get some fresh air if you don't need me for anything else."

"But your sister just got here," Mom moaned.

"It's fine. We have all summer." Amy offered another too-warm smile and Julie did her best not to look confused. When had Amy ever been anything besides the prim and proper little know-it-all who’d done everything better and faster than her? When had Amy ever been one to understand? No, to stick up for her?

Julie smiled back. ”Great. I'll see you guys later."

As soon as she scooted past the precarious stacks of junk in the hallway, she sprinted out the door, down the steps, and through the gate like her legs were on fire. With her luck, Mom would find some piece of furniture that needed to be refurbished before she could get away and she’d be stuck there, trying desperately to scrounge up things to talk about other than her failure of a life.

She had to reformulate her plans.

Lying to her family, necessary as it was, did not make it any easier. Especially with this new, nicer version of her older sister floating around.

She reached into her sweatshirt pocket, pulled out the carton of cigarettes, then slid one between her lips, rolling it back and forth as she trekked down the slope toward town.

If things had been this difficult with just Amy and Mom, how hard would it be to keep up the ruse with Luke, too? Impossible, likely.

Luke paid attention to her in a way that Amy and Mom never had. It wasn't that they loved her any less, it was just that...it was a different love. She and Luke had an understanding the rest of the family simply didn’t understand. It might have been from their fishing trips with their father before he got sick, or maybe just from the summer days they’d spent riding their bikes together, but whatever it was, she always felt like Luke
got
her. Even when she wasn’t entirely sure she got herself.

Maybe if she told Luke...

Yes! That was it. She'd tell Luke everything--every heart-wrenching detail of her horrible morning--and when it came up around the house, she could trust him to help her change the subject.

It’d be like forming an alliance to win a reality show.

Like healthy families did.

When she reached Luke's bar with Old Sully's green neon sign still plastered outside, she walked in with her head held high. This was going to work. She was going to own this.

And that's exactly when she saw
him
and her heart--along with her hopes--sank deep into her stomach.

Chase Westmore was taller than she remembered. More muscular, too. But his dark, tangled hair was still as haphazard as ever and his too-green eyes apparently still had the power to stop her in her tracks.

Then again, that might have had something to do with the way he was staring at her. With a vague, crooked smile, like she was a memory of something he wanted to hold on to.

She squared her jaw, swallowing hard as she walked through the throng of people and settled herself on a barstool. After a cursory glance at his dark blue button down shirt and faded jeans, she raised her eyebrows and said, "Can I talk to my brother?"

"So it is you,” he said. Like he hadn't heard her question.

Typical.

"Of course it's me,” she said. "Now--"

"I could hardly recognize you with that hair. Wow. Your mom must hate it."

She reached for her blunt, dirty blond bangs before she realize what she was doing. Then, flipping one long pigtail behind her shoulder, she said. "She'll get used to it. Now where's--"

"He's in the back. What can I do you for?"

"I just need to talk to him."

"You don't want a beer? It's on the house." His vague smile tilted even higher.

"Look, Chase. Just find Luke for me."

"Jules, you don't have to--"

"It's Julie."

"No, it's not." He stared her down, then, after a slight pause, he turned his back and walked away. Only when she saw him grabbing a glass and pouring a beer did she give herself the opportunity to breathe again.

I don't feel anything. It's in the past and I don't have to give him the power or satisfaction of letting him know he gets to me.

She glanced around the place, noticing a few more familiar faces from high school. Even some of the kids from
The Hills
were here, sipping on martinis and other fruity concoctions.

Some other people she didn't recognize were here too, but there was no doubt about it--the place was packed.

Why hadn't Luke mentioned the place was such a success?

Her heart swelled with pride for him, but then she jumped as something cold slopped onto her forearm, soaking through her sweatshirt.

"What the--" She  looked down to find a frosted beer glass in front of her, full to the brim. And behind it? A determined-looking Chase Westmore.

"Peace offering," he said, then nodded toward the beer.

Rage wasn't the word.

Rage was something that could be soothed with vengeance. But staring at Chase Westmore? She knew vengeance wouldn't be enough.

She wanted to own him. She wanted to wring him out and hang him up.

She wanted to make a chair of his bones.

"
This
is your peace offering? A beer?" She sipped it. "A
Bud Light
?”

“It was your favorite--"

"When I was sixteen." A few people nearby glanced over at her, and as heat rushed to her face, she fought to keep her voice down. "How are you not getting this? There will be no peace. I want nothing to do with you. I
thought
I had made that perfectly clear."

"Even after all this time?" Chase asked, his arms crossing over his chest.

"To infinity and beyond. Forever and ever and then, when forever ends, until the next forever."

"Jules--"

"
Julie
," she spat. "You know what? Just tell Luke I called." She hopped from the stool and started out, not bothering to look at the people watching her as she went.

She'd made it halfway up the high street before she realized footsteps were following her.

And when she spun around, it was Chase Westmore's angular face that was caught in the streetlight. She glanced around, but the street was empty. It was just him and her and the distant sounds of the bar's too-loud country music.

"We need to talk," Chase said. "We're not kids anymore."

She couldn't say why it happened. Maybe it was the eerie similarity between now and the last time they'd had a chat like this, but she remembered him as he'd been all those years ago.

That night it had been raining, she remembered. He was on the tree branch outside of her bedroom, hoping to come inside. Probably hoping to explain why he'd lied. Why he'd broken her heart.

But just like that night, she was done.

He'd already had his chance, and he'd blown it.

"No, we're not children anymore," she said.

"Will you let me explain?"

"The past is behind us."

"Clearly, it isn't." He  took another step toward her. She hesitated, wondering whether or not to step back. But he was still far enough off, so she stayed there, stuck in place, though god only knew why.

"Chase--"

"I was an idiot. I shouldn't have--"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Please. I need you to."

"But why? It's not like we...it's not going to make a difference."

"It will to me. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of coward."

"Fine. If it makes such a difference to you, then talk. But I'm not here to dole out forgiveness."