Chapter Fourteen
Paul didn’t know what the hell he was doing with Vanessa Nava.
Hadn’t he vowed to keep his distance from her?
He was in hiding from a criminal organization that took no prisoners.
He had a target on his back. This was not the time to start a romantic relationship.
It wasn’t the time to engage in a quick and dirty affair, either.
And yet, here he was, lusting after her like a horny schoolboy and trying to score points with her by sharing intimate details.
He never talked about his parents’ deaths, not even with Kyle. He didn’t want to talk about it now.
Vanessa’s brown eyes widened with sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, patting his knee.
He shrugged and finished his beer. It was his cue to leave, but he didn’t leave.
He watched her walk into the kitchen for two more bottles.
Her denim shorts revealed a lot of leg and cupped her cute ass.
He didn’t avert his gaze as she bent forward and reached into the fridge.
After popping off the tops, she returned to his side.
“How did it happen?” she asked.
“Car accident.”
“Was it a long time ago?”
“Five years,” he said, leaning back into the couch cushions.
She gave him an expectant look. She wanted to hear the story and connect with him on an emotional level.
He wanted to connect with her on a sexual level, without revealing too much about his past. But he understood women well enough to know that opening up to her would make her more receptive to his advances.
“I grew up on a cattle ranch in Katy,” he said.
Her brows rose with surprise. “So you’re not a city boy?”
“Not originally. My parents sold the ranch when I was twenty-one. They wanted an easier life, and Kyle talked them into making an investment in his security company.”
“You went to work for Kyle.”
“I did.”
“How did that go?”
“It was a struggle, especially at the beginning. When the business started turning a profit, Kyle spent his money instead of paying my parents back. Then he got married and had two kids, and he lived above his means. My parents didn’t approve.”
Her brows rose with interest. “Hmm.”
“This all came to a head at a family gathering at my brother’s house in Houston. His son’s birthday is on the 4th of July, so we always got together to celebrate. He had a nice pool, an outdoor patio. The kids were swimming. The adults were … drinking.”
“You included?”
He swigged his beer for emphasis. “Me included.”
“And you regret that?”
“We all could have behaved better,” he said, squinting into the distance. “You know how your father didn’t like your ex-husband and tried to warn you away from him?”
“Yes.”
“My mother did the same thing. She told my brother not to marry his wife.”
“On what grounds?”
“She said that Allison was shallow, spoiled, and mouthy.”
“Was she?”
Paul’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Yes.”
“Did your brother tell his wife what your mother said?”
“He did.”
Vanessa sipped her beer, contemplative. “Whose side did you take?”
“Neither. I stayed out of it.”
“You’re the Jackson of your family. Neutral.”
He got the impression she found this quality annoying—in Jackson’s case, at least. “Kyle had just bought Allison a new car. My mother found out about this the day before the party and she took it out on Allison. She called her a shoe whore.”
Vanessa’s delicate brows rose. “A shoe whore?”
“Allison didn’t let that slide. She retaliated by calling my mother a classless, ah …”
“What?”
“It’s similar to quim. But not as nice.”
She seemed amused by his reluctance to say the word. “What did your brother do?”
“He got between them and accidentally knocked my mom into the pool.”
Vanessa clapped a hand over her mouth, and Paul gave a wry smile. The story might have been funny if it hadn’t ended in tragedy.
“My mom was spitting mad and soaking wet when she left. She was too upset to drive, but my father shouldn’t have been behind the wheel, either. On the way home, he swerved to avoid a collision with another vehicle and went over a guardrail. They were both killed instantly.”
Vanessa made a sound of dismay.
Paul drank his beer, wondering if he’d ruined the mood. This was not a conversation that inspired sexy vibes.
She dropped her arm to her side. “Does your brother feel responsible?”
“Of course.”
“Who do you blame? Or are you neutral?”
He set the bottle aside and leaned forward. “I’m not neutral. I blame my mother for starting the argument with Allison. I blame my brother for causing the tension between them. I blame my father for driving in his condition. And I blame myself for doing nothing.”
She studied him sadly. “What about Allison?”
“What about her?”
“Do you blame her?”
“No. My brother blamed her enough for the both of us.”
“Did they stay together?”
“They did not. He never forgave her for the part she played in it. They got divorced a year later.”
Her lips looked pale. “You said he cheated.”
“They both did. It was a competition to see who could hurt the other one more.”
Although his eyes were dry, hers filled with tears. She glanced away, blinking rapidly. “What a horrible way to end a marriage.”
“Is there a good way?”
“I suppose not. They always say cheating is a symptom, not the cause.”
“That was true in his case.”
“Why can’t people split up before they start sleeping around?”
“Or not get married in the first place,” Paul said.
She bristled at his suggestion. “You think your brother should have listened to your mother, and never gotten married?”
Paul made a noncommittal sound. He wasn’t going to share his thoughts on matrimony. He knew from experience that his opinions didn’t go over well with women, especially bunnies, as he’d termed them.
Vanessa continued as if he’d argued with her. “People get married because they believe in love, and hope, and togetherness. They intend to be faithful.”
“But they don’t follow through.”
“So we should expect disappointment instead of loyalty? That’s like saying both partners are at fault because one was na?ve enough to take their vows seriously and assume the other would do the same.”
Paul rested his arm on the back of the couch. “What excuse did your ex give for his infidelity?”
She considered the question. “He claimed the other women didn’t mean anything, and he still loved me.”
“He wanted to stay together.”
“Yes, but I know he wasn’t happy.”
“Why?”
“He was obsessed with making money and spending money. He was a thrill seeker, always taking risks that didn’t pay off. Eventually he lost everything. When his playboy facade started to fall apart, he got manic. I was too busy to console him. I was focused on Emily, my classes, and my career.”
“He’s the one who fucked up. Why should you console him?”
She toyed with the label on the beer bottle. “I think we both lost interest. Our home life left a lot to be desired. He liked to go to nightclubs and stay out late. I was up at dawn feeding a baby after a double shift in the ER.”
“You were taking care of his child.”
“He said I didn’t excite him.”
“He was a fool.”
She shrugged, glancing away.
Although Paul could scarcely believe a woman like her would harbor insecurities, he had witnessed the ravages of divorce. It wrecked people and broke them down into little pieces. Kyle was still a mess, four years later.
He reached out to hold her face with his fingertips. She turned toward him at his urging. “You excite me,” he said, meeting her guarded eyes. “It’s not just a matter of personal preference, either. You’re objectively sexy.”
Color warmed her cheeks at the compliment.
“If your ex lost interest, it was his fault, not yours. He wanted flash over substance, and he couldn’t handle the responsibilities of a family. You had to do it all yourself. Sounds to me like he wasn’t man enough for you.”
She studied him with a thoughtful expression. She seemed surprised by his insight. “You’re good for my ego.”
“I’m good for a few other things, too.”
His offer was clear, and she looked tempted to take him up on it. Even so, she moved his hand away from her face. “Why are you acting so nice?”
He was taken aback by this pronouncement. “What do you mean?”
“When the cabin was yours, you were barely civil. Now that it’s mine, you’re bringing me sheets and plying me with compliments.”
“Plying you?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t think I’m being sincere?”
“I think you want something from me.”
His gaze scanned her body. “You’re right.”
“I’m serious, Paul. I don’t trust this new you.”
Paul didn’t mention the fact that she hadn’t trusted the old him, either. “You prefer the insufferable jerk?”
She rose to her feet. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
“Why?”
“Because if you’re not a nice guy, we can just have sex and go our separate ways. I won’t feel anything.”
Paul marveled at the irony of the situation. Instead of sharing personal details, he should have told her to shut up and get naked. He might have been more successful in his seduction attempt.
“You’re no handyman,” she said. “I know that.”
Ice filled his veins at this matter-of-fact statement. “I never said I was.”
“I found a business card in your pocket.”
He stood abruptly. “What business card?”
“Kyle McPherson, Houston PD. Are you being investigated?”
“Kyle is my brother.”
“You said he owned a security company.”
“He sold the business last year.”
“Your last name is Murphy, not McPherson.”
Paul crossed his arms over his chest. “We have different fathers.”
She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “I can’t be with another liar, Paul.”
“But you can be with another asshole?”
“As long as he’s an honest asshole, yes.”
“I’m not a liar.”
“You lied to me about the Wi-Fi.”
“I was under duress.”
“You’re secretive. You don’t share things.”
“I just told you about my parents dying! Jesus Christ.”
“You didn’t tell me your brother was a cop, which is strange, considering that my brother is a cop.”
Well, that was a bullseye, wasn’t it? “I didn’t think it was relevant.”
“You didn’t think it was relevant?”