A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones



He studied her a long moment. “Do you have any idea what it would’ve done to him if you’d died?”

His question surprised her.

“He would’ve never gotten over it. He would not be the same man you see today. Besides, you helped.”

“I helped what?”

“You helped him win the fight that night.”

The snort that escaped her expressed her feelings on the subject beautifully, but she elaborated anyway. “Wynn, I literally lay there and watched as Levi was stabbed over and over. I couldn’t have been more useless if I were made of hair gel.”

“When Brick was abducting you, I guess he’d drugged you, but you fought back regardless. You bit his hand. That’s how Levi figured it out. He knew you were missing, saw Brick’s hand, and put two and two together. In a way, apple, you aided in your own rescue.”

She remembered Brick’s yell when he was taking her from her truck. Blood on his hand. But she didn’t remember biting him. “I thought he hurt it on the truck somehow.”

“You bit him. You clamped down so hard, you literally took a chunk out it. It weakened him. Made it possible for Levi to wrest the knife away.”

“He told you that?”

“He did. Again, he was high as a kite, but he rarely lies either way.”

“Wait a minute,” she said, when it dawned on her. “All those confessions muddying the waters. That was you.”

“A few, yeah. Not all. What can I say? The man is loved.”

“The man is almost worshiped, truth be known. And why do you keep calling me apple?”

He laughed softly. “You don’t remember? You stole apples out of my tree one summer. I chased your ass for a half a mile, at which point you turned and threw a half-eaten Granny Smith at me.”

“That was you?”

“God, you could run. I’ve called you apple blossom ever since. Just not to your face.”

“When are you going to tell me where the knife is?”

“When I see the girl.”

Her lids slammed shut. She had put it off long enough. Time for the ten-thousand-dollar question. “Why do you want to see her?”

“Because I’ve heard she looks like her grandmother.”

Her lungs seized and turned to cement. “You aren’t talking about my mother, are you?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he studied her. “She was a lot like you, apple. Strong. Beautiful. Fiercely protective of her family.”

“You were in love with her.”

“Body and soul.”

She sobered with the knowledge that Wynn had been in love with his sister-in-law. With Levi’s mother. “You’re telling me Levi is Auri’s father.”

“You know he is,” he said, his voice dripping with sympathy.

She took a long moment to process his words. To let them and their implications sink in. “You just said he wasn’t a part of it.”

“I don’t understand. What does your abduction have to do with Levi being Auri’s father?”

“Because that’s when it happened. I woke up pregnant.”

“You woke up with retrograde amnesia.”

“True, but I’ve remembered a lot since then. Almost everything.”

“Clearly, you haven’t. That could explain why Levi hasn’t told you the truth. Maybe he’s waiting for you to remember. And a little sad you haven’t. According to him, that night was everything. His word. One night you’re underneath him with skin as soft as an ocean breeze—again, his words—and the next you’re gone.”

The emotion simmering beneath the surface bubbled up and boiled over. All these years, the answer was right in front of her. How did she not guess the truth? Was it denial? Or just sheer stupidity?

She’d gone for so long believing she’d been violated. Raped by a monster. And she’d never wanted Auri to feel less-than because of it. Because of something beyond her control.

“Does he know?” she asked, her chin trembling. “That he’s Auri’s father?” The words seemed foreign. Surreal. Before Wynn could answer, however, she did it for him. “Of course, he knows. He loves her so much.”

“She’s yours, apple.” He reached up and brushed the wetness off her cheek. “He would love her either way.”

That wrenched the sob building inside her chest right out of it. She didn’t care. Screw policy. Screw procedure. Screw the rules. She stood, walked around the table, and threw her arms around him. He’d stood as well, anticipating her break from reality, and hugged her right back. Astonishingly, he let her cry and slobber on him like a lost puppy and didn’t seem to care in the least.

After another eon of emotional instability, she stood at arm’s length, and said, “Wait, what did you mean I have to get to Ravinder? What message were you talking about?”

Humor sparkled in his eyes. “Oh, now you want to know?”

A sheepish smile crept across her face. “Yes.”

He waited a beat, looked down into her eyes, and said, “Clay is going to take him out.”





30


Celebrating the fact that you don’t

have enough friends for an intervention?

First drink is on the house!

—SIGN AT THE ROADHOUSE BAR AND GRILL