Large canvas bags are still resting on the counter in the kitchen, and I sigh in relief. I grab the first two and… drop them both to the ground as my jaw falls unhinged.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask the man who is walking into the kitchen with my mother’s robe on—her pink, far-too-short, satin robe.
“Oh, Wren. Sorry. Didn’t know you were here,” Ray Fucking Drivel says on his way to the fridge, acting as though I shouldn’t be shocked out of my damn mind right now.
I watch, unable to form anymore words that can possibly relay how confused I am in this moment. After he opens the door on the fridge, he bends over way too far, revealing much more of his body than I’ve ever wanted to see, and I whirl around to fight back a gag.
“Why are you naked under my mother’s robe?”
“Because my clothes are in the wash,” he says as though it should be common knowledge.
“And your clothes are in the wash because?”
“I got them dirty when I was crawling under the house.”
The more questions he answers, the more confused I become. But before I can truly interrogate him, my mother walks in from the other side of the kitchen—the side I’m facing. Her eyes widen as she tightens the strings on her long, black satin robe.
Oh hell no.
“Wren,” Mom says in surprise. Her hair is ruffled, her face is flushed, and her lips are swollen. I’m going to be sick. “I would have thought you’d be here sooner.”
I gag silently when I think of what I might have heard had I gotten here earlier. Mom reads my horrified expression and shakes her head vigorously. “I meant much earlier. I thought you’d go shopping with me so you could do it on your own next time.”
Ignoring the man who is pouring a glass of orange juice much closer to us than he was and making himself entirely too comfortable in my childhood kitchen, I take a steadying breath before trying to answer.
“My phone messed up again. Lost track of time,” I say through clenched teeth, feeling my body tense all over when Ray slides his arm over Mom’s waist and tugs her back against his front. When she giggles and leans against him before stroking his face, I gag out loud.
“Oh, Wren. Stop it. I’m a grown woman.”
“And he’s a fucking con artist! Last I checked, you’re exactly the sort of woman he targets.”
Ray cocks an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t act offended, which only pisses me off all the more. But Mom… Shit. She looks like she’s ready to beat my ass.
“Wren Prize, I love you, but you don’t get to judge people for making mistakes in the past.”
I glare at her when I hear her underlying meaning. “I fucked up one night. He fucked up for years. He’s a—”
“A man who served his time and now works for the FBI. He’s also a security designer for highly reputable businesses, and a very wealthy man on his own who doesn’t need my money.”
I wasn’t going to say any of those things and she knows it.
“I should probably leave the two of you alone,” Ray says with smile while leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I deserve what he’s saying, dear. I’ll see you upstairs.”
Dear? He did not just call her dear!
Bile rises to my throat upon hearing that oversharing tidbit about seeing her upstairs. My eyes are already burning from the images my mind is imagining against my will.
Ray walks off, and I immediately start back in. “When the hell did you start… dating Ray Drivel?”
“Capperton. He prefers Capperton because of his daughter. And we’re not dating… exactly. We’re just two people who happen to enjoy the physical company of each other.”
I’m going to be sick for days.
“I’ve got to go,” I groan, darting out of the house even as my mother says something my ears can’t hear. Apparently they’re scarred as much as my eyes are and refusing to let in anymore traumatizing words.
It’s not until I get almost to Allie’s place that I realize I never did get the groceries I dropped in the kitchen floor when I saw the con in my mother’s robe.
Not a good day.
Chapter 3
Cancun — Seven Years ago…
ALLIE
“Allie Thrash. I’ll be damned. In Cancun and drinking,” Chris says, assaulting me with his toxic breath when he stands too close.
Only in Mexico and under the influence of a lot of tequila would the captain of the football team suddenly recognize me. Small towns are terrible for having some stupid hierarchy, and I’m sure as hell on the bottom.
“Nice ass, nice tits, nice… share,” he slurs. I think he meant to say hair.
“Thanks,” I grumble, doing what I can to peel myself away from him. I never should have agreed to this stupid senior trip, but I know Bella wanted to come. She hasn’t ever been any more popular than me, but she has sure as hell blossomed and turned into a girl the guys want. Too bad she no longer wants any of them.