Perfect Secret by Molly McLain
Chapter 10
ALANA
“What in the hell is going on with you and Holden?” Aiden demands as soon as I accept his call bright and early Sunday morning. I expected he’d call last night or blow up my phone with a bunch of texts, so the fact that he managed to hold back a solid twelve hours is impressive.
“Good morning, dearest brother. How’d you sleep last night?” I ask, ignoring his question while I make a pot of coffee.
“Don’t try to change the subject,” he grumbles. “You go from complete lockdown to gallivanting all over town with this guy. For fuck’s sake, he’s been here five days.”
I laugh and tug my robe a little tighter around myself. “For one, we’ve only officially gone out once. The other time, he was just walking me home from Pony Up. And two, you were the one who made him my neighbor, so if you’re going to get cranky with anyone, it should be yourself.”
He makes a throaty sound, and in the background, I hear his cruiser start. “Yeah, but I figured you’d been living like a nun, so I wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”
“Oh, Aiden.” Another laugh rises.
He’s quiet for a moment and I imagine he’s backing out of his driveway, heading to work. “Look, he’s a nice guy, but there are some things—”
“He told me.”
My brother gasps. “He did?”
“Yes, and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t allow a guy with a dirty background to move in next to me, so I know you’re not worried about it.”
He’s silent for another beat. “He told you about the assault accusation.”
I close my eyes and press my fingers to my forehead, a headache already starting and it’s barely five in the morning. “Yes, Aiden. He told me. God, you’re a pain in the butt sometimes.”
I can hear him swallow through the line. “Did he say anything else?”
Oh my god. “Like what? That he’s a serial killer and plans to chop me into a million pieces? No, Aid. We’ve talked about a lot of things, but his plan to put me out of my misery wasn’t one of them.”
“Alana…” Aiden’s tone is a mix of annoyance and warning.
“Look, I know you haven’t had to play the protective big brother role in a while, but please don’t think you need to start now.”
“I’m not trying to warn you off of him, Al. I’m just saying there are probably some things you should know.”
“And I hear you. But here’s the thing—I don’t need to know everything about him. He’s only here for a few weeks and I just want to let loose and have some fun. Is that really such a bad thing?”
A low, rumbling sound slides through the line and I roll my eyes, already knowing what’s to come. “Fun?” he spits. “What the hell kind of fun are we talking about?”
“Nope.” I laugh, grabbing a mug as the coffee pot stops brewing. “We aren’t talking about it whatsoever.”
He pulls in an audible breath, surely preparing to lecture me on how I better not be banging my new neighbor, when the bathroom door opens and a freshly showered Holden steps into my apartment.
“‘Morning,” he says, his voice still rough from sleep. Just like it had been yesterday when he stopped by for coffee before heading to the ranch.
“He spent the fucking night?” Aiden roars.
I don’t even bother clarifying. Instead, I wink at Holden and point to the phone. “Aiden says good morning.”
Holden’s eyebrows dart up and a sly smirk plays across his lips. “Good morning, Faulkner,” he taunts, leaning into the phone as he pops the top off of his travel mug.
I clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing as Aiden snarls, “I’m going to kill him.”
“No, you aren’t. You like your job too much for that. Anyway, I have to get going. I have extra donuts to frost this morning for the church crowd. Thanks for calling to check in.”
“Alana,” Aiden warns again, but my finger is already hovering over the end button.
“Love you, Aid! Have a great day!” Before he can argue, I click off the call with a lighthearted sigh. “Well, that was fun.”
“He called you already this morning?” Holden chuckles.
“Yep. Must’ve stewed about it all night and couldn’t wait any longer.”
“What’d he say?”
“That you’re dead.”
Holden grunts a laugh. “Yep, he’ll definitely be paying me a visit today.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He turns to face me and leans a denim-clad hip against the counter, the delicious scent of his body wash wafting over me in the best kind of way. His dark gray T-shirt fits him just like the black one did last night—snug in all the right places. “I signed up for this, darlin’, remember?”
“Actually, I don’t recall you signing up to be harassed by my brother for a relationship we’re not even in.”
A small smile tickles at his lips as his gaze slips down to the V of my robe, then my bare legs, and back up again. “I’d say the perks more than make up for it.”
“The perks?”
He reaches out and trails a rough fingertip from my collarbone down to the once again gaping V in my robe. “Getting to see you like this first thing in the morning is one hell of a way to start the day, darlin’.”
Gulp.
“We still on for a picnic this afternoon?”
“Uh, yeah.” If I don’t self-combust before then. “Providing Aiden doesn’t kill you first.”
He winks as he heads for the door. “Let him try, babe.”
HOLDEN
“Why the hell is Aiden Faulkner texting me at five thirty on a Sunday morning?” Wilder holds up his phone as soon as I hop out of my truck at the ranch.
“I don’t know.” I chuckle. “Maybe because he thinks I spent the night with his sister?”
“Did you spend the night with her?” my friend asks, eyes wide and chin lowered, like he’s ready to rain hellfire on me, too.
“Of course, not. What the hell kind of guy do you think I am?”
“The kind with a dick?”
Laughing, I grab my lunch box and water from my back seat and toss it into the ranch truck. “You got me there.”
“What are you doing with Alana, man? Just cut the shit and just be straight with me. I saw how you two were at Pony Up last Friday night. I know you’re into her.”
“And if I am?”
“You gotta tell her who you are. Before shit gets out of hand.”
“Aren’t you the one who told me not to tell anyone?”
His expression falls and he pulls in a breath. “That was before you even came to town and when I didn’t think it mattered. But if you’re going to do more than share her bathroom…” He leaves the rest unsaid while I grab my gloves and Stetson.
“Yeah, I know.” I slap the gloves against my palm. “I almost told her last night, but we were at the diner and I didn’t want anyone overhearing. The last thing I need is for that damn gossip column to post my name and location and for the media to spin this like I’m hiding out like a guilty bastard.”
Wilder nods. “I get it. But don’t fuck around with this. And trust me when I say she’ll cut you out of her life faster than a Burdizzo on a set of nuts if she finds out the truth from someone else.”
“I’ll tell her.” Not because he’s telling me to, but because it’s the right thing to do.
“Good. Because I’d hate to have to kick your ass if you don’t.”
* * *
Wilder and Ispent all day in Rebel River helping out an old friend of his, who recently acquired full responsibility of the ranch her deceased husband had run for decades. She’s a firecracker of a lady and she knows her way around, but she doesn’t have the best relationship with the ranch manager and that’s made things tense.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if Sandy put the place up for sale soon,” Wilder muses as we pull back into the Roman Wilde Ranch later that afternoon. “Her heart isn’t in it now that Hank is gone and she’s not the type to roll over and let Dean run the show. Not with the way he disrespects her like he does.”
Yeah, I wasn’t impressed with the guy, either. Something about him rubbed me the wrong way and then he opened his mouth and cocked off to the woman who now signs his paychecks. Wasn’t cool in the least.
“It’s a hell of a spread. Damn near as nice as Roman Wilde.”
Wilder grins. “Nothing’s as nice as the RWR.”
I laugh. “I mean, it’s all right…”
He throws a fist across the console and smacks me in the chest before flipping me off and hopping out… just as Aiden Faulkner pulls up in his cruiser.
“Fuck,” I grumble and Wilder just laughs.
“You asked for it, McMurray, now take your punishment.”
I want to tell him that I didn’t technically do anything wrong, because Alana and I aren’t really dating, but then I remember the way I’d held her hand and kissed her a cheek a couple of times and laid in bed with my hand around my dick, thinking about her.
“McMurray,” the broody cop grumbles as he approaches. He’s dressed casually enough in a pair of jeans and MCSO polo, but the gun strapped to his hip is all business.
“Faulkner,” I greet him in return, grabbing my stuff from the ranch truck.
“You got something you want to tell me?” he asks, coming to stand a little too close with his hands on his hips and fire in his eyes.
“Not particularly, no.” I flash a cocky smirk and take my chances turning my back on him to stow my stuff away in my own truck.
“Are you messing around with my sister?” he asks bluntly and, as much as I want to deny the accusation, I also want to feel him out. Is he really pissed or is he just doing his brotherly duty? And more importantly, would he mind if Alana and I dated for real?
Closing my truck door, I level with him. “If by messing around, you mean sleeping with her, no. And, to be honest, I wouldn’t tell you if I were, because I don’t disrespect women like that. But if you mean, am I seeing her, then yeah, I guess I am.”
“She doesn’t date bull riders,” he snaps, and I cock my head to the side, curiously amused. I almost ask what the hell she has against bull riders, but I’m not about to give him the upper hand.
“No? Huh.” I wink and leave it at that.
His jaw clenches a little tighter and I start to feel bad for the guy. I don’t want to make him stroke out about something that might not ever progress beyond what we’re doing now.
“Look,” I begin, because I really don’t want to piss him off or make him stroke out. “Wilder and I had this conversation earlier and I’m going to tell her what I do for a living. I know she won’t tell anyone.”
Aiden’s gaze narrows. “Her telling anyone is the least of your concerns.”
What the hell does that mean? “I’m seeing her this afternoon. I’ll clear the air.”
He glares for another long beat before his shoulders relax and a slow smile curls at one side of his mouth. “You do that. And then let me know how it goes.”
Why do I get the impression he thinks I’m about to get my ass kicked?
Hell, maybe I am. But I can guaran-damn-tee that a five-foot-five, one-hundred-and-forty-pound woman ain’t got nothing on a fifteen-hundred-pound bull with a cowboy on his back.
Then again, this is Alana Faulkner we’re talking about.