Audrey's Promise Page 6

  “What do you think of your sister running for senator?”

  Yep, predictable as pumpkins in October.

  Adelaide smiled at Audrey in the rearview mirror. “She’ll do great! The only one with enough guts to tell the president how to do his job the right way.”

  Audrey bit back a laugh. “The governor, Addy. Senator for Texas Senate. I won’t be anywhere near D.C.”

  Audrey threw a glance at Ethan, who strangely studied her with a weird grin. What she wouldn’t give to find out what thoughts ran through that sneaky mind of his.

  “Oh. Well that’s a little less glamorous.” Adelaide’s dejected tone was hard to miss. “But she’ll kill the election anyway.”

  The grocery store came up on their left, a few cars scattered in the parking lot for last minute Thanksgiving feast items. But Audrey kept driving.

  “You haven’t been away that long to forget where the store is.” Adelaide laughed from the back seat.

  “We’ll get there. First things first.”

  “The only things out this way are the library and motel.”

  Ethan started laughing. “I hope not in the same building. Disobeying your mother? Audrey, shame on you.”

  “There’s no harm in asking.” Audrey shrugged and flipped on her blinker to turn into the small motel’s parking lot. Half of the modest two-story building was covered in tarp and flimsy construction platforms. The other half’s faded paint and rusted windows needed renovations as well.

  “Mom will tan your hide with a belt if she hears you even thinking about putting Ethan in the motel. Besides, this place is shabby and Adam’s room is so much more comfortable.”

  “You won’t be staying here, Addy. Just Ethan.”

  “You wouldn’t want your precious hide tanned because of me,” Ethan mocked, leaning against the passenger door.

  Audrey parked in the only available spot, as the rest were occupied by beat up pickups and dooleys. Her hopes for an open room dwindled, but she wouldn’t give up yet. Better a tanned hide from her mother than a shattered career from Ethan.

  They all climbed out of the car. Ethan and Adelaide started to walk inside, but Audrey waited by the trunk. “You’ll need your suitcase.”

  Ethan turned and shoved his hands in his coat pockets, wearing that conceited smile that became more irritating every second. “Not if they’re full.”

  “They’ll have a room.”

  “Let’s just check first.”

  Everything started to itch. Her neck, arms, eyes, and throat as they battled each other with their stares. The undercurrent of heat from his laughing eyes hinted at other ideas probably probing around his brain, standing outside a motel. If she weren’t so struck by the glimmer in those gray irises and nonverbal challenge, she’d be offended. Adelaide stood next to Ethan, a ridiculous smile growing on her cheeks, clearly amused by their childish display.

  “Fine.” Chin strong and high, Audrey tossed her hair over her shoulder and marched past them.

  The motel lobby had seen better days, but knew nothing of contemporary furnishings. Floral wallpaper faded to a muted brown with paper-thin carpeting that made psychiatric hospitals more inviting. An occasional orange and yellow matted shag carpet broke up the dismal color scheme. The liveliest decorations in the room were the few stuffed quail and hawks mounted throughout the small dining area next to the check-in desk.

  The town’s only motel didn’t require a concierge or bellman service. The clientele didn’t need them for their early morning hunting and fishing excursions, or their late night returns from the bar. The only other amenity they may have appreciated was a taxidermy service. Other than that, a decent mattress and a place to lock their guns were enough to consider this a five-star hotel.

  Perfect lodging for Ethan.

  The hotel clerk was as seasoned as the National Geographic magazines lying on the counter. Circa 1960s variety and just as worn.

  “Hi, there. Do you have any rooms available for tonight and tomorrow?” Audrey asked with her most pleasant political voice and Peacemaker face.

  “All booked up,” the clerk rasped out in a thick backwoods, East Texan accent, without glancing up from his newspaper. Cigar smoke trailed up from the ashtray resting behind the paper.

  “Sorry, Audrey,” Adelaide called from behind. “Can we go to the store now? I need more lip gloss.”

  Audrey ignored the sixteen-year-old beauty queen and lowered her voice. “Please, sir. It’s really important and you’d be doing us a huge favor. Could you just please check? Anything you have. I’ll pay double the going rate.”

  The man raised his eyes with a recognition that sent squirms down Audrey’s spine. “We’re all full, Mizz Biddinger. Run on home now and take your campaign and big city reporter with you.”

  Rough words from a rough man Audrey failed to recognize at first glance. Time hadn’t been kind to Mr. Packle’s face and voice, and neither had the cigar smoking. But neither had he been kind to her, even as a scrawny tomboy chasing her brother around the school fields he was in charge of maintaining back then.

  He glared back into Audrey’s eyes with the condescending stare that every southerner seemed born with. Audrey merely smiled back, grabbing her keys from the counter. Before turning to leave, she looked in his stern eyes once more.

  “Sorry for wasting your precious time, Mr. Packle.”

  When she turned around, Adelaide’s frown matched her crossed arms and hip thrust to the side, whereas Ethan’s eyes flew wide to study Mr. Packle. Audrey closed the distance between them, polite defeat on her face.

  “You want me to try and ask him?” Ethan whispered, not bothering to hide his amusement.

  “I don’t think he’d be willing to give you an interview, big city reporter. Let’s go.”

  Crawling back in the car felt like slipping underneath a rock to lick her wounds. If she were still seventeen, she’d have thrown back an insult at Mr. Packle and cared less of the repercussions. But things were different now. She was different. Some arguments weren’t worth fighting. But it still felt shitty to give up.

  “That grump has had an attitude his whole life,” Adelaide defended from the back seat as she slammed the door. “He should have felt lucky to have a reporter stay at his motel. But that’s okay. Now Ethan can stay in Adam’s old room. I’m sure the bed is comfier.”

  “I’m still reeling there’s another person in this town that the great Audrey Allen couldn’t sway.” Ethan’s dimples recessed into his face as his smile widened. Only a true cynic could gain that much entertainment from seeing her ego thrown into the Stone Age by a small-town curmudgeon. “He was all grins and giggles for you. Must be drinking the same whiskey as your brother.”

  “Adam doesn’t drink whiskey,” Adelaide interjected.

  “All military men drink whiskey.”

  The tall pine and oak trees faded from Audrey’s view as she steered the last mile toward the grocery store. Adelaide and Ethan bantered like siblings. Harmless, relentless, and annoying all at once. Just like she and Adam used to be.

  She missed it.

  It was a good thing she couldn’t see Ethan’s face as he razzed with Adelaide. She didn’t want to watch the sparkle in his eyes or the charming smile of a not-so-straight-laced paparazzo. He had the perfect face for an artist’s model. Clean lines, strong features, easily shaded, and enough layers in his eyes to keep a sketcher occupied for days. But they were also the worst combination for any woman to keep her guard up. An artist’s greatest love was the politician’s worst enemy.

  There was no doubt in Audrey’s mind which role she needed to play. Or at least which role took precedence over all others. Which is why her sketchbook sat on her windowsill back in Dallas.

  The grocery store parking lot was even fuller than before and Audrey’s gut squirmed as she pulled into an empty space. Another deep breath and a struggled swallow helped steady her mind. Flour, sugar, and lip gloss. Then back to the quasi-sanctuary of home. What
could be simpler?

  “It’s just a Piggly Wiggly.”

  Audrey looked out her window only to see it wasn’t there. Ethan leaned against the open door frame, smirking and waiting for her to step out. Was she really that distracted?

  He held out his hand, casual and undemanding, much like the rest of his posture. But there was nothing casual about that gaze. Like he’d win the lottery if he could guess the exact number of freckles on her face.

  Would it be so bad if a man paid that kind of attention to details?

  Audrey swallowed again and shook her head.

  “I’m trying to decide whether or not I want wine with dinner,” she lied.

  If the motel was any indication of the welcoming she’d receive in this town, she should shut the door and drive home now. The grocery store here was like the Galleria in Dallas. Women came here for their gossip and stopped off in the beauty salon for the rest. Audrey was about to give them enough gossip for the next year.

  And in front of a newsman, no less. One determined to uncover the details.

  Audrey stepped out of the car and gripped her purse. She followed Ethan and Adelaide to the automatic sliding doors and inhaled, plastering on her peacemaker face.

  Let’s get this display over with.

  Chapter Nine

  As Audrey Allen trailed them into the grocery store, Ethan thought he saw fear in her hesitant eyes. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of anything. Forget that she clutched her bag like a life raft, she didn’t lead the pack into a room like her normal campaign routine. News conferences, public appearances, even when she assisted Congressman Nichols on the floor, she always entered through the door first. Except now.

  The motel clerk’s open-armed welcome must have rattled her more than Ethan suspected. Hardly the kind of welcome expected for a Senate candidate on the campaign trail. Ethan couldn’t stop smiling as he walked into the grocery store.

  Shit, this was going to be a fun weekend.

  Adelaide skipped into the store ahead of him, waving to one of the two cashiers as she passed, and headed straight for the makeup aisle. So this is what a Piggly Wiggly looks like. Not an indoor pen for farm animals as the name suggested, but a six-aisled general store the size of a mainstream pharmacy. Well, five aisles. The sixth was strictly hunting gear and ammunition. Not the kind of store seen in Dallas. And definitely not in New York City.

  Ethan stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for Audrey to catch up. What were they here for again? Something for her mother. Audrey strolled past without a word or glance.

  Her perfume trailed in her wake and its sweetness matched perfectly with her sultry stride. Not that she knew it. Women like her were rare: not completely ignorant to their physique’s effect on a man’s senses, but clueless to its magnitude. No doubt Audrey knew to keep the make-up natural and the hair simple, but perhaps didn’t know how to accentuate her curves with the right clothing. But with Ethan’s trained eye on the female figure, his imagination on what Audrey hid underneath those political suits and oversized sweaters dripped with anticipation.

  It took a moment for him to realize the store went quiet; no beeping registers, no chatting customers. Dead quiet.

  Everyone’s eyes followed Audrey to the baking aisle, and no one smiled. It was as if the world had stopped to let Audrey shop.

  Had they never seen a candidate before? Ethan followed her, smiling at everyone and amused by the stunned faces, waiting for a punch line from someone.

  Audrey surveyed the limited selection of flour. The way she stood with her arm on one curvy hip accentuated her slender waist. She looked great in a business skirt, but those legs were made for skinny jeans. Or nothing at all. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in wavy curls. An inkling of warmth spread through his veins at the thought of her curling her hair just for him. Who else did she need to impress?

  “I’m impressed. Your entrances keep getting more entertaining.” Ethan grabbed a bag of marshmallows from the shelf. “They only sell one brand? How did you survive out here?”

  “Simplicity has its advantages. Easier to keep the annoying press away.”

  Ooh, touched a nerve there. What else can I touch?

  “What’s wrong with the press? Am I too sweet for you?” He waited for her eyes to meet his and gave a devilish smile. He opened the bag of marshmallows and popped a few in his mouth.

  Audrey rolled her eyes and grabbed a bag of flour. “You haven’t paid for those yet.” She turned around to swipe sugar from the shelf behind her. “And you’re more sour than sweet.”

  “You think this whole bag would make me sweeter?”

  Her mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile, but didn’t. Does she allow herself any fun? A light glimmered in one eye, proving she was capable of it, if she really wanted it.

  “This entire aisle of sugar isn’t enough.”

  A marshmallow sailed into the air and he caught it between his teeth. He tilted the opened bag toward her. She didn’t move. Just continued to watch him with those sapphire gems.

  He grabbed another one and raised it to her mouth, a hair’s width from those moist lips. Not that this woman needed any more sweetness, but there was something about hand-feeding a woman. The anticipation. The trust. Foreplay.

  Would she take the bait?

  When he cocked an eyebrow at her, she tilted her head, never once taking her eyes off of him.

  Those delectable lips never parted. She took the marshmallow between two fingers and tossed it back in the bag. “Let’s just get out of here,” she murmured.

  “Aud.” Adelaide strolled down the aisle, holding two lip glosses in her hands, oblivious to everything else around her. “What shade do you like best, strawberry diamonds or plum paradise?” She held them out and pressed her lips together. Audrey barely gave them a glance.

  “Either one, Addy. Let’s go.”

  “But…you didn’t even look.”

  “Plum paradise, definitely,” Ethan broke in. Adelaide’s eyes widened the exact way as her sister’s. He picked the plum paradise shade out of Adelaide’s hand and pretended to study it. “Strawberries are for little girls. Plums are more exotic.”

  Adelaide’s blush matched her sister’s, too. It went straight up her cheekbones into her hairline. But Audrey was quicker at hiding hers.

  “Look what the coyote dragged home,” a high-pitched voice drawled from the other side of the aisle.

  Ethan and Adelaide turned simultaneously and focused on the short, skinny woman, clearly infatuated with dark make-up and cheap hair extensions. As if the longer the hair extensions the more it would make up for her short height, only accomplishing the opposite effect. With a small basket of groceries in one hand and a fake Louis Vuitton in the other, her sneer reminded him of a few nasty ex-girlfriends.

  Sauntering down the aisle, her gaze moved from Audrey to Ethan and back again.

  “Hi, Maria,” Audrey said with a sigh and weary smile.

  “You think it’s a good idea to be back here?” Her voice was like fingernails down Ethan’s spine, and not the good kind. At least for once the hatred wasn’t directed toward him. Amazingly, it was all for Audrey. “Let alone with this handsome fella to take the brunt of your schemes.”

  “Maria, this is Ethan Tanner, reporter from Dallas.” Audrey performed the obligatory introduction with little enthusiasm, but still wore her moderate peacemaker smile. “Ethan, Maria Gonzales. She and I went to high school together.”

  “Pleasure.” Ethan held out his hand, despite the sugary powder on his fingers.

  “It’s Maria Fuente, now.”

  “Congratulations,” Audrey replied without losing her smile, and without feeling.

  “You brought home a reporter? You?”

  “Why does everyone keep asking that?” Adelaide interrupted no one in particular.

  Maria threw Adelaide a glance and shook her head at Audrey. “You really think this is the best example you want to set for your little sister
?”

  “Addy is doing very well, thanks for asking.” Audrey replied. “Have a good Thanksgiving, Maria.”

  Ethan stood dumbfounded, but had at least dropped his unshaken hand. The Peacemaker wasn’t glad-handing a potential voter or squashing this woman’s direct attack on her family. What is wrong with her?

  He normally loved watching Audrey Allen refute arguments in the middle of a debate or news conference in glorious fashion. To the point where opponents backed down within two questions and journalists lined out the door to make sure they recorded the legendary confrontations. But here she wasn’t putting up a fight. In her hometown. With attacks on her sister, no less.

  “Eric, be sure to keep a safe distance from this…woman,” Maria threw over her shoulder as Audrey walked away. “Lord knows what would happen to you given her history.”

  “Maria.” Adelaide gave her the perfect teenage scowl. “Go shove one of your hideous hair extensions up your butt and mind your business.”

  Ethan couldn’t help himself. The best way to “see the town” was get an inside look. “Maria, who will you vote for in the upcoming senate election?” He kept the best journalist tone in his voice, but could’ve guessed which way her answer leaned. Let’s see how the strong candidate handles this one.

  Maria studied Ethan, clearly confused. “Hadn’t thought about it.”

  Liar. She doesn’t have a clue there’s an election at all.

  “Well, Audrey is running for a Senate seat. Is it safe to say she has your vote? Or will you be too busy fixing your hair?” Ethan popped another mallow in his mouth.

  “Ethan.” The warning in Audrey’s voice was soft, but obvious.

  “I wouldn’t help her if she were laying dead in the street!” Maria hissed with eyes flared. She spun around and stormed off, extensions shedding as she huffed away.

  “That was uncalled for.” Audrey’s penitent eyes met his entertained gaze.