“Hey, I’m just looking out for both of us. The sooner I get my money, the sooner I’m outta your hair, and you can go on with your life.”
Anger boiled in her belly. “Don’t you dare patronize me. Say you get your money. What then? You haven’t given me the web site URL. For all I know the photos will still be there and you’ll come back to me the next time you find yourself strapped for cash.”
“Hey, the deal was you get me twenty grand and I don’t divulge this information to the sainted town of Bakersville. There was nothing more than that.”
“So my photos stay on the web site then? You want me to pay twenty grand for that?”
“That’s your only choice for now. I have no power to get the photos down.”
“Then what good are you?” She clicked the phone off.
“You’re just going to piss him off,” Angie said.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t give a damn!”
But she did. That was a lie. She didn’t want to be ruined in Bakersville. She loved it here. She’d finally found a place that felt like home. She’d found friends. She’d even found a man. A man who felt like home.
Maybe he’d understand. Angie thought so.
Angie took both her hands. “Go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. We’re going to go see my brother.”
* * *
“Harper, you’re not being fair.”
Harper paced up and down. “Fair?” He glared at his sister. “None of this is fair.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Angie said. “But it’s the most unfair to Amber.”
He looked over at the woman—the beautiful woman he’d begun to think of as his—and his heart broke. He could handle that she’d been a stripper, that she’d been kicked out of her house by a drunken mother and she had to find a way to earn a living. That was admirable. Noble even.
But the photos?
True, she claimed to have no knowledge of their existence prior to yesterday. Could he believe her? He wanted to, but evidence pointed against her. By her own admission, she was awake and fully active in the photos.
And after supposedly finding all this out, she’d come to his home, slept in his bed, in his arms, as if nothing had happened.
What the hell am I supposed to think?
He didn’t know her at all.
“You’re not the woman I thought you were.”
“Harper, please.” She walked toward him, reached out to him.
His heart hurt. How he wanted to take her hand. He ached to pull her into his arms and hold her, to promise her he’d do anything, anything at all to make sure that look of sadness and horror never marred her beautiful face again.
But no. He’d be strong. He’d always thought she wasn’t his type. Turns out his first hunch had been right.
He pulled away from her. “I’m sorry, Amber.”
“Harper,” Angie said, “please.”
“I’ll help you,” he said. “I’ll do what I can to get rid of Buchanan’s threat. I have some information I got in confidence from a friend. It should work to hold him off, at least until you relinquish your rodeo queen crown in a few months. That’ll keep the scandal at bay. After that, you can”—he gulped—“leave town if you want.”
Angie whipped her hands to her hips. “Damn it, Harp! How can you be so cruel?”
“Cruel?” He thumped his fist on his father’s—his—