Author: Tiffany Reisz

“I feel like we’ve gotten off to a bad start, Mr. Railey,” Nora continued. “Can we talk inside for a few minutes? Wesley used to work for me back in Connecticut. He—”

Wesley’s father started forward at a leisurely place. Nothing new with that. Jackson Railey was well-known for doing everything at a leisurely pace. Back when he was a kid, Wesley had thought it meant his father was the laid-back sort, never in a hurry, never rushing himself or anybody else. As he got older, got smarter, he realized his father moved slowly because he liked making people wait for him. He’d make his mind up in a second, but make you wait a minute for the answer. He’d spend hours on something that should take only minutes, to prove he had the time and money to waste…even if nobody else did.

“I know who you are, Miss Sutherlin.”

Wesley’s heart raced harder with every step his father took closer to Nora. Things had started out ugly and were getting uglier by the second.

“A fan? How nice.” She kept smiling.

“Not quite, madam.”

“Dad. Let’s go in the house and talk.” Wesley took a step to the side, trying desperately to put himself between his father and Nora. His dad wasn’t the violent type, but he didn’t need to be. Words were weapon enough for his father, especially when he was angry like this.

“That woman is not allowed to cross the threshold of my home, J.W. And quite frankly, I’m shocked that you’d even suggest it.”

“That woman?” Wesley stood up straighter and stared into his father’s blue eyes. He’d gotten his brown eyes from his mother, his temperament from her. Most days it was only the similar set of their jaws that betrayed Wesley and his father were even related. “‘That woman’ is my best friend, Dad. She’s also a four-time New York Times bestselling author.”

“Five, actually,” Nora interjected with a sly wink at him.

That wink gave Wesley the courage to keep going. No matter what his dad said to her, Nora could take it. In their fifteen months apart, he’d almost forgotten how much fun she had getting yelled at.

“Sorry, Nor. Forgot about the new book. Multi-New York Times bestselling writer. She’s also—”

“A whore.”

The word came out of his father’s mouth and hung in the air between them. Wesley’s right hand balled up into a fist. His dad might not be violent, but he was coming damn close to getting Wesley to that point.

“Ohh…” Nora said with that wicked smile of hers, that smile that made men either fall at her feet or run for their lives “…he totally went there. I can respect that.”

“Take that back, Dad.” Wesley leveled his coldest stare at his father. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about, J.W. Did you think your mother and I believed it when you said you just wanted to come back home to Kentucky because you were homesick? You spent two years telling us how much you loved it at Yorke, how much you wanted to spend your whole life in Connecticut, how happy you were, and then one day it’s ‘I’m ready to come home.’ You think we bought that? Your mother did, because that’s what she wanted to believe. I knew better. Did a little digging—”

“Jesus, Dad, you investigated me?”

“Had to be done. And I did it for your own sake.”

Nora laughed softly. “Can I take a moment here to tell you both how cute your accents are when you’re angry?”

Wesley and his father both looked at her, Wesley in shock, his father in disgust.

“Okay, that’s a ‘no’ then. Carry on.” She took a step back and waved her hand at them to continue.

“You think this funny, don’t you, miss? Well, it’s not funny to me. Or to my wife. Our son was a wreck when he dragged his tail back down here. I had an uncle come home from Vietnam looking less shell-shocked than my boy did that day he turned up here.”

The smile fell from Nora’s face. Nodding, she stepped forward again and took Wesley’s hand. He squeezed her fingers and found them surprisingly cold, as if she was nervous or something. His Nora? Nervous?

“I’m sorry, Mr. Railey. I know I hurt your son. And I’ll regret it until the day I die. But I—”

“Hurt my son?” Wesley’s father shook his head and gave a horrible, cold laugh. “You didn’t hurt my son. He falls off a horse and gets hurt. You broke that boy’s spirit. Crushed him. I know about the smut you write. The wife’s got a whole case of trash like that in the library. From what I can tell, only thing different about your books and the ones she reads is that in yours they get a little more creative. Your books don’t bother me a bit. That you sell your body doesn’t even bother me. What does bother me is that you pulled your tricks on my son. You used him, chewed him up and spit him out.”

Wesley opened his mouth to protest, but Nora spoke up first.

“You say you know me, Mr. Railey, but obviously, you don’t. If you did, you’d know I don’t spit out.”

“Nora, please,” Wesley said, ready to drop on his hands and knees to beg her to let him handle this. Not that it would work. For a single second Wesley felt a pang of sympathy for Søren. Nora was lawless, unmanageable, uncontrollable. You told her one thing, she did everything but that. She laughed when others cried. Danced when others sat. She clawed her way to the top and didn’t even chip a nail on the way up. No one could break her. No one could handle her. No one could shut her up.

God, he had missed this woman.

Wesley turned to his father, stepped directly in front of Nora and raised his chin.

“Dad, my private life with Nora…what happened between the two of us isn’t any of your business. We worked it out. And she’s not a whore. I can’t believe you’d say that.”

“I said it, and I’ll say it again. What else do you call selling your body?”

“A good career move.” Nora peeked around Wesley’s arm. “Although technically, I was a Dom—”

“Nora, can you give me a minute here?” Wesley tried to ask as politely as his raw nerves would let him.

“Take your time, Wes.” She patted him on the back again.

“Dad, I love you. But you’re kind of pissing me off right now. Nora’s my best friend. She’s my girlfriend. She’s staying here with me while I figure out what I’m going to do next. If you’ve got a problem with that—”

“I certainly do have a problem with that—”

“Then we’ll go to a hotel.”

“Hotel’s a good idea,” Nora said from behind him. “I liked that castle we passed. Can we rent a turret? I’ll call about the weekly rates.”

“I’ll stay in a Motel 6 before I’ll let anybody treat you like this, Nora.”

“They do leave the lights on for you, I hear. Nice of them.” Nora already had her phone out, clearly ready to get the hell out of Kentucky. Or at least off his front lawn. He couldn’t quite blame her.

“Motel 6? What on earth?” Wesley’s mother called out from the front porch. “Wesley? Did you make it home?”

“Hey, Momma.” He grabbed Nora’s hand and pulled her across the lawn to where his mother stood under the archway. “I want you to meet my girlfriend, Nora. She came down from Connecticut to visit me.”

Wesley wanted to pull his mother into a bear hug, but decided against it. His dad had accused him in the past of using his mother to get away with murder. He wanted his father to accept Nora, not merely tolerate her because his mother liked her.

“Hello, Mrs. Railey.” Nora had a smile on again, but not the smile that made Wesley nervous. A simple smile he had only seen her wear it in private with him, or when she met a child. He’d never met anybody as good with kids as Nora. Broke his heart that she claimed to not want any. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nora, you say?” his mother repeated, and returned Nora’s smile. His mom looked tired tonight. The business side of the farm wore her out, enough that Wesley feared guilt alone would keep him on the farm forever. “So nice to meet you, too. But, Wesley, I thought…”

Wesley laughed. “Mom, Bridget and I broke up a while ago. Nora and I were together when I was at Yorke. We’re back together again.”

“I’m much younger than I look, I promise.” Nora’s smile broadened. “I’m aging horribly.”

His mom laughed. “I had a feeling my Wesley would fall for an older woman. Girls his age just aren’t smart enough for him.” She reached up and ruffled Wesley’s hair. Nora stuck her tongue out at him and gave him that Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it? look.

“I’m definitely not smart enough for him. Must not be if I let him get away once. I’ll be more careful this time.”

“Smart girl.”

Wesley grinned as his mother reached out and patted Nora on the arm.

“It’s getting late, Mom. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he asked, worried that his argument with his father had woken her up.

“Yes, Caroline. I think that’s a good idea,” said Wesley’s father in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Yes, sir,” she said, and reached for her husband’s hand. “Put me to bed. Make sure you tuck me in nice and tight.”

“I always do. Gotta tuck you in or you might run away on me.”

Wesley’s mother smiled broadly and her pale face instantly lit up with love.

Wesley couldn’t help but smile, too. He and his father had their differences, but they both worshipped the ground Caroline Railey walked on. That alone kept them from launching the New Civil War on Kentucky soil most days.

“It was nice to meet you, Nora,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as Jackson led her into the house. “Wesley, you make sure she’s got enough blankets. Might get even colder tonight.”

“I will, Mom. She’s out in the guesthouse with me.”

“I did not hear that, young man,” she said, laughing. Wesley glanced at Nora, who grinned at him.

Alone with her once again, Wesley slumped against one of the pillars on the front porch.

“Okay, that went worse than I thought it would,” he confessed. “Nora, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe my dad investigated you and me and—”

She closed the distance between them in two big steps and threw her arms around him.

“Whoa, where did that come from?” He wrapped her tight in his arms.

“Wes, you’re my hero. I can’t believe you talked back to your dad like that. He’s a little on the…” Nora pulled away and mimed the Psycho shower-stabbing scene. Wesley could only nod in agreement.

“Yeah, can’t argue with that. He’s a good guy. He is. Just overprotective of me and Mom.”

“Family man. I respect that. My father would have sold me down the damn river to pay off a ten-dollar debt if he thought he’d get a Hamilton for me.”

“Dad only dislikes you—”

“Hates…he hates me,” she corrected.

“Fine, he only hates you because he thinks you hurt me.”

Nora reached up and caressed Wesley’s cheek. He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm.

“Wesley…I did hurt you.”

He nodded and said nothing else. Nora hugged him again. She held him for a long time, so long he forgot what she was hugging him for. He kissed her hair, inhaled the scent of her—orchids. Nora always smelled like orchids... Someday he’d remember to ask her why.

“I should go.” She pulled away.

“What?”

“I can stay in town somewhere. I don’t want to cause you more trouble than I already have. Nora Sutherlin in the house equals trouble. It’s basic math.”