She hadn’t seen him since the summer she’d turned fourteen. He’d been all of eighteen, caught in that half-boy, half-man stage that was both appealing and awkward. He’d grown up, filled out and gotten sexier and more dangerous looking. But the disbelief in his eyes made her want to die right there on the spot.
“I can explain,” she said, then wondered if she really could. Were there any words that would convince him she wasn’t still crazed stalker girl recently released from a mental institution?
“Gracie Landon?” he repeated.
She noticed he’d lowered the shotgun so it wasn’t pointing directly at her. That was something.
“This isn’t what you think,” she said and took a step back. Maybe it would be better for both of them if she just disappeared into the night. And where was her sister? How just like Alexis to fade away when the going got tough. She’d always let Gracie take the fall for things.
“You weren’t lurking outside my house, taking pictures?” Riley asked.
“Okay, yes, I was doing that, but it wasn’t about you. Not technically.”
His eyes were the color of stormy midnight. At least that’s how she’d described them when she was a teenager. She’d written really bad haiku about his eyes and his mouth. She’d imagined how he would kiss her when he finally came to his senses and realized they belonged together. She’d even written poems to his various girlfriends—after he’d dumped them—commiserating with their pain.
Yes, my dear Jenny, I alone can understand, the magic of the moment, when he takes your hand.
Gracie placed her palm on her stomach where she could feel the acid churning. Most days she couldn’t remember where she’d left her car keys, but she could recall lines of horrible poetry written a lifetime ago?
“There’s something seriously wrong with me,” she muttered.
“I’ll second that,” Riley said.
She narrowed her gaze. “You’re not helping the situation. You know that? I know this looks bad, but here’s a news flash. I’m not here for you. My brother-in-law, Zeke, is supposed to be helping you with your campaign for mayor tonight. That’s what this is all about.” She waved the camera in his face.
He frowned. “You have a thing for your brother-in-law?”
“What?” she yelped. “No. Yuck. Of course not. My sister, Alexis, asked me to—” She pressed her lips together and turned away and started for the car—assuming Alexis hadn’t driven off in it after slinking away. “Just forget it.”
“Not so fast,” Riley said as he grabbed her arm. “You can’t show up like this, take pictures, then walk away. How do I know you haven’t put a bomb in my car?”
Gracie jerked free of his grip, then squared her shoulders before turning around to face him. “I never tried to hurt you,” she said as calmly as she could when what she wanted to do was run screaming into the night. This was so not fair. “When I had a crush on you, I tried to keep you from seeing your girlfriend, but I never actually hurt anyone.”
“You threw yourself in front of my car and begged me to run over you.”
Heat exploded in her cheeks. Why couldn’t everyone just leave the past where it belonged? Why did every humiliating detail of her life have to be dissected in public?
“That was about my pain, not doing injury to you.” She drew in a deep breath. Peaceful thoughts, she reminded herself. And a couple of antacids. That’s all she needed. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’m sorry I let my sister talk me into coming here. I knew it was a bad idea. It won’t happen again. Whatever her problems with Zeke, I’m not getting involved. Ever.”
His gaze narrowed. “What problems with Zeke?”
“That’s personal.”
“Look, lady, the second you started taking pictures in my windows, it became my business.”
He had a point. Not a very big one, but still... “Zeke has been acting funny—staying out late, not talking about things. He says he’s busy with your campaign all the time but Alexis thinks he’s having an affair.”
Riley swore and grabbed her arm again. “All right. Come on.”
“Let go of me.”
He didn’t and he started walking, dragging her along with him.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Inside. We have to talk. If my campaign manager is cheating on his wife, I want to know about it.”
“I don’t think he is. He just doesn’t seem the type. What time did your meeting with him end tonight?”
Riley stopped on the front porch. Light from the big fixture by the front door illuminated his perfect features—dark eyes, high cheekbones and the kind of mouth that made normally reasonable women want to run out and do something really, really sinful. He still wore an earring, but a diamond stud had replaced the gold hoop she remembered so well.
“We didn’t have a meeting,” he said flatly. “I haven’t seen Zeke in three days.”
The churning got worse. Gracie pulled free of Riley’s grip and rubbed her stomach. “That can’t be good.”
“My thoughts exactly. So come inside. I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything you know about Zeke and his affair.”
“For one thing, I don’t know if he’s even having one. Alexis could be overreacting.”
“Does she usually?” he asked as he held open the front door and motioned for her to step inside.
“I don’t think so. Maybe. I live in L.A. I don’t actually spend all that much time with her.”
She walked into the house and came to a complete stop in the foyer. The place was huge. Old, but beautiful with high ceilings, carved moldings and enough furniture, knickknacks and artwork to monopolize an entire month of Antiques Roadshow.
“Wow. This is pretty cool,” she said as she turned in a slow circle. “I think my entire house would fit in the foyer.”
“Yeah, it’s big. The library’s in here.”
Once again he grabbed her arm and dragged her along. She caught a glimpse of a formal dining room and a parlor or living room before he pulled her into the library. He released her and walked to a liquor tray set up by the window. After setting the gun on the desk, he poured what looked like Scotch into two glasses. She set down her Polaroid.
“Let me say for the record—ouch,” she said as she rubbed her arm again. “I don’t remember you manhandling women before.”
He glared at her, then handed her a drink. “I don’t trust you.”
“It was fourteen years ago, Riley. You really need to let go of the past.”
“I was happy to until you showed up again. You tortured me for two years. They wrote about it in the newspaper. The ‘Gracie Chronicles.’”
Embarrassment made her want to squirm. “Yes, well, that part wasn’t my fault. Can we talk about something more relevant? Like Zeke.”
“Why does Alexis think he’s having an affair?”
Gracie shrugged. “He’s coming home late and not saying where he’s been.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“About six weeks. At first she figured he really was working on