It had been the strangest morning that Bethany could remember.
Mama Yelverton had insisted she stay. Bethany had agreed on the condition that she cook lunch. At least then she could busy her hands and give her brain some room to think.
She didn’t trust the guy. It wasn’t the dark clothes or the tattoos. She didn’t care about that kind of stuff. It was the menacing air around him, the completely outrageous story that he’d tried to feed Mama Yelverton.
A wedding planner? Really? How stupid did he think they were?
The pot lid slammed down a bit too hard, and Bethany jumped.
“Everything okay in there?” Mama Yelverton called.
“Just fine,” Bethany said, her voice thin as she yanked open the drawer where the kitchen knives were kept. “Lost my grip.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” Mama Yelverton said.
“I’ve got this… You two just catch up.”
The buzz of voices from the living room indicated that they’d taken Bethany’s advice, and she relaxed a little.
Money. It had to be about money. This guy was taking advantage of the fact that the Yelvertons’ child had died as a baby and was pretending to be Samuel in order to get his hands on some cash. Scum-sucking jerk. To prey on a family’s pain that way—
Honestly, it reminded her of her grandmother. Bethany sliced tomatoes with a vengeance. She’d be damned if she’d watch this lowlife take advantage of the Yelvertons that way. Mama Yelverton was too kind, too generous. Sarah was much the same way, but she was busy with pharmacy school, and it wasn’t like she was close enough to keep an eye on things.
If anyone was going to protect Mama Yelverton from this money-grubbing fake, it would have to be Bethany.
“Can I give you a hand?”
She jumped and gave a little cry as that deep, sexy voice was suddenly right behind her. A broad hand steadied her, the touch sending electrical impulses from her elbow throughout her body.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said as she jerked away. “No need to get violent.”
She looked down and saw that she was still holding the chef’s knife she’d been using to chop vegetables—pointed straight at him.
“Oh God, I’m sorry.”
“No harm done,” he said with a smile that was part mischief, part evil, and all kinds of hot. “I shouldn’t sneak up on a lady like that.”
“Where’d Mama Yelverton go?”
“She got a phone call.” He nodded toward the front of the house. “Thought I’d give her some privacy and see if you needed a hand.”
His proximity was doing deliciously decadent things to Bethany’s insides. He was just so damn…big. Imagining him tossing her around like she weighed nothing was causing her heart to do loop-de-loops.
No. Focus. This guy isn’t trustworthy, and he’s trying to take advantage of people you love.
Tamping down the desire that had curled warmly in the pit of her belly, Bethany turned back to the veggies for her pasta salad.
“Nope. I’m good. Thanks anyway.”
“What’s in the box?”
She froze, her insides suddenly going cold. “What?”
He nodded toward her purse where it sat on the edge of the counter. The corner of her father’s Purple Heart case was sticking out of the top, plainly visible. The knife she’d been using clattered to the cutting board, and she reached for the purse, stuffing the box as deeply as she could to the bottom.
“It’s nothing.”
“Must be a big nothing if it made a strong girl like you cry.”
She rounded on him. “Why do you care? I’m a stranger.”
“I guess I just don’t like seeing people hurt.”
The defensive anger that had been building inside her disappeared in a cloud of confusion. She leaned against the counter, looking at him. Really looking at him this time. Past the tattoos, the muscles, the dangerous air that surrounded him.
His deep-green eyes spoke volumes. There was a steely strength in his expression, in the set of his jaw, the carriage of his shoulders, but those eyes told her he knew what it was to have a soul-deep, searing, painful loss, just like she did.
He cared. Despite the fact he’d never clapped eyes on her before, he’d noticed her pain and cared enough to check on her.
And despite herself, despite her better judgment, she found that incredibly attractive.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For asking, I mean.”
There was a moment of silence, and then there was a big, hard body leaning up against the counter, lessening the difference in their height. She tried to look away, but his eyes were so magnetic.
God, he’s going to kiss me.
And, insanely, she didn’t mind. Instinctively tilting her chin up for his kiss, she waited.
And waited.
When it didn’t happen, she opened her eyes. Trey was popping a slice of cucumber into his mouth, stepping away. As he chewed, she shook her head to clear the insanity.
It didn’t work.
He grinned, reaching for another cucumber slice. “Fishing for a kiss, huh?”
“What?” Bethany squeaked. “No, I wasn’t—”
“We just met. Give me a chance to get to know you. I’m not that kind of girl.” He winked.
His confidence was maddening and a little charming at the same time. Despite herself, she laughed. Damn him.
He leaned close, and his whisper blew across her ear, sending shivers up and down her spine. “If you want a kiss, just ask.”
She leaned closer, tipping her chin upward until mere centimeters separated their mouths.
For a second, she wondered what it would be like to give in to the screaming temptation of her body and to kiss him. A voice from the other room snapped her back into the moment.
This was a con man. And he was trying to con her as well as her surrogate family.
Not on her watch.
“You should know,” she said, not lessening the distance between them. “If you hurt the Yelvertons, I will come after you.”
“I’m going to like you, Strong Girl,” he said, then winked as he sauntered away as if nothing had happened.
Bethany stared after him.
What the? Who the hell did he think he was? Really?
She turned back to attack her vegetables. Her reaction to the man was as maddening as him being there in the first place.
Just then, Mama Yelverton’s voice floated in from the living room, grinding Bethany’s thoughts to a halt.
“Bethany? I’ve talked to Sarah. She’s still in town, and she’s coming for lunch. Will there be enough?”
Bethany did a couple calculations in her head. “Yup, I can make it work.”
“You’re a star.” Mama Yelverton smiled. “Sure you don’t need any help?”
The question reminded her of Trey’s offer of assistance, and Bethany had to fight the blood that rushed into her cheeks. “Nope, I’m good. It’ll be done in about ten minutes.”
“I’ll get the table set. Trey, would you mind helping me?”
As Mama Yelverton opened the cupboard, Bethany looked in Trey’s direction. The teasing laughter was gone from his expression, replaced by a carefully crafted blankness.
She looked harder. His shoulders were tense, a slight tremor in his hands the only giveaway. Was he…nervous? And why did she have the sudden urge to comfort him?
He looked over at her, and their eyes met. He looked away quickly, as if afraid to give away too much of what he was feeling.
Con artist. Swindler. Crook. Don’t let yourself fall into his trap. Her self-motivational speech broke the spell, and she curled her hands into fists.
She didn’t know what to make of him. But she did know she’d watch every move he made. One misstep, and she’d be all over him.
Semper fi, as her father had constantly reminded her. Always faithful. She wouldn’t let the Yelvertons down. Not even for a man that set her nerves on fire.
* * *
When the sound of the garage door met her ears, Bethany was swamped with a strange mixture of gratitude and dread.
On the one hand, the fact that her best friend was there was amazing. Never having been as drawn to a man as she was to Trey, Bethany could really use the extra support.
On the other hand, that man was Sarah’s long-lost brother.
It looked like Bethany’s frustration and unexpected attraction was her own problem for now.
“Hey, hey,” Sarah chirped as she came through the door that led to the laundry room and garage entrance. “Mom said you were cooking lunch. What’s the occasion?”
Bethany bit the inside of her lip as she finished cutting the sandwiches on the diagonal. “I’ll let her tell you.”
“Hi there, baby.” Mama Yelverton came into the kitchen, a nervous smile on her face. “I’m so glad you could come.”
“Mark had something come up, so he’s headed back to Asheville.” Sarah plopped onto the barstool opposite the counter where Bethany was arranging food on a large serving plate. “What’s with the impromptu family gathering?”
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Mama Yelverton said, reaching over and taking Sarah’s hand.
“I’ll give you guys some privacy,” Bethany said, grabbing the platter of sandwiches and scooting from the kitchen before anyone could protest.
Anxiety climbed her spine with every soft murmur of voices from the kitchen behind her.
This was an unknown. Sarah had confided in Bethany many times over the years about her mixed feelings regarding her older brother’s disappearance. Due to Papa Yelverton’s feelings on the matter, Mama Yelverton hadn’t really kicked the search into high gear until about a year after Papa’s death. Of course Sarah wanted her mother’s search to be successful, but Bethany couldn’t forget the hurt in Sarah’s eyes when she’d wondered aloud if she just wasn’t enough for Mama Yelverton to be happy.
In any case, Bethany was on Sarah’s side. She sighed as she set the plate in the center of the table, in between the pasta salad and the deviled eggs.
Footsteps behind her made her tense, but she didn’t turn around.
“Looks good.”
That voice was still doing things to her. Damn him.
“Thank you,” she said coolly, pouring herself a glass of water, keenly aware of his gaze raking her up and down.
Jesus, she had to get things under control.
“Can I get some of that?”
“I’m sure you can,” she said, setting the pitcher in front of him and creating some much-needed distance between them.
“It’s okay, Strong Girl. Wasn’t asking you for any favors.”
The urge to snap back at him was huge, but Bethany just took a sip of her water and ignored him.
“Trey?”
They both turned and looked at the kitchen doorway, where Mama Yelverton and a somber-looking Sarah stood. Mama held Sarah’s hand, looking from her to Trey as she said, “This is your younger sister, Sarah.”
“Hi,” Trey said, and for the first time, Bethany thought she saw a crack in that hard-ass facade he’d been presenting.
It was almost imperceptible, really. But the way his weight shifted before coming back to center, the way his shoulders moved, all seemed to indicate that he’d been knocked off his axis and wasn’t sure how to handle what was coming at him.
Good. Gold-digging, scum-sucking cheat had it coming. Maybe he did have a conscience and would stop this charade before it went any further.
“Hello,” Sarah said, her smile a little brittle.
Silence fell, an awkward, thick quiet that Bethany wasn’t sure she should break. Fortunately, Mama Yelverton stepped into the gap.
“Well, Bethany, this looks excellent. Should we sit down?”
“Sure,” Bethany said, pulling out Sarah’s chair before sinking into her own. It looked like her best friend could use the help. Sarah’s expression was a mask of politeness over a darkly confused mix of anger and sadness.
Bethany wished she could drag her friend from the room and give her some space to process this news before being forced to spend time with this stranger in their midst.
But in actuality, she was the outlier. The only one who wasn’t—rightly or wrongly—claiming the Yelverton name.
For a few moments, there was only the clinking of silverware as food was passed and plates were loaded. Bethany kept as close an eye on Trey as she reasonably could.
He carried himself well enough, she guessed. He didn’t make a giant mess, kept his elbows off the table. Said “thank you” when Sarah passed him the pasta salad. He even kept the olives he picked out of it in a neat little pile on the corner of his plate.
Hmm. She bit down harder than necessary on her turkey and cheese. He was just a good actor. Had to put on a good show to pull the wool over their eyes.
“So, Sarah’s about to be a doctor of pharmacy,” Mama Yelverton said, smiling over at her daughter as if oblivious to the brewing storm in that direction. “She graduates this May.”
“Mom, he doesn’t want to hear about that.”
“That’s really interesting,” Trey said with a polite nod. Bethany couldn’t help but notice how the tattooed snake climbing up his neck twitched with the movement. It was intimidating and sensuous at the same time.
Down, girl.
“And Trey runs a wedding planning company,” Mama Yelverton continued. “It’s such great timing, really. We couldn’t have asked for him to come into our lives again at a better moment. He’s already agreed to help Bethany with the ceremony plans. I thought if Sarah’s still here then, we could all get together tomorrow afternoon and—”
Sarah’s chair scraped back suddenly. “Hey, Bethany, I think this pasta salad could use more tomato.”
Mama Yelverton frowned down at her plate. “I think it’s fine, Sarah.”
“No, it definitely could,” Sarah said, grabbing the bowl. “Beth, can you come and help me?”
“Absolutely,” Bethany said, tossing her napkin down beside her plate and hustling toward the kitchen after her best friend.
She glanced over her shoulder before shutting the dining-room door. Trey’s face had gone stony, his strong jaw tight.
Good. Let him notice how his sudden appearance has rocked things. Let him realize that Easy Street isn’t a real place.
Once they were alone, she turned her full attention to her best friend. “Are you okay?” Bethany rubbed Sarah’s back. Sarah’s palms were splayed on the countertop, her hair hanging down as she faced the floor.
“I just don’t know how to process this,” Sarah said, her voice a little thick. “Mom is so freaking happy. I just… I’m happy too. But he’s so…different than I’d pictured him.”
“I know,” Bethany said, rubbing small circles on Sarah’s back.
“Honestly, I’d felt like Dad was right. That he was dead, and searching for him was just a way for Mom to put off processing the grief. And for him to show up like this? Right before the wedding? Mom said that the DNA test proved it, but…I don’t know.”
Sarah turned, and Bethany was stunned to see the sheen of tears in Sarah’s eyes.
Her best friend never cried. Ever.
“Bethy, I’m so sorry to ask you this. But right now I can’t afford to be distracted. With finals and then the NAPLEX licensing exam, it’s too much. I have to focus. I know things are different since you agreed to make decisions for my wedding, but with him”—Sarah nodded toward the dining room—“it’s even tougher. Can you please work with him? For me? For Mom?”
Of course the answer would be yes, but Bethany’s thoughts went deeper than that.
She knew he was lying about the wedding planning business. No way in heck did that huge, muscle-bound, tattooed biker plan weddings for a living. If she worked with him, maybe she could get some proof and show it to Mama Yelverton before Trey got his hooks even farther into her. DNA or no DNA, this guy was lying about his job if nothing else.
It was a good plan. Noble, even. She felt sure that her dad would have approved.
“Of course I will,” Beth said and hugged Sarah hard. “Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me.”
“I do,” Sarah whispered.
Bethany closed her eyes and held her best friend. Her family.
This bastard wasn’t going to hurt them. Not even over Bethany’s dead body.