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It’s an ugly fucking question, one I don’t want to answer.
For months, I’ve been trying to fathom how she wasn’t charged with embezzlement and theft. When she confessed everything and put her spin on it, I believed her. Her explanation sounded so real and she seemed so guilt-ridden and torn. But if I take emotion out of the equation, I gotta be honest…Bret’s suggestion makes a lot more sense.
I let out a rough breath. God, this can’t be happening. Please tell me it isn’t. I close my eyes and try to process Bret’s words away. The agony in my chest insists my brain find some other explanation. There must be a perfectly rational one, right?
Like what? And why didn’t she tell you the truth about the video?
I have no answers.
Still, I refuse to jump to conclusions. I need to talk to Beth, hear her side.
See how she’ll squirm out of this one.
“What did you do with the video?”
“Made a copy. I left the original there, in the envelope she used to mail it to herself. You want to check out the fine piece of blackmail for yourself?”
Do I want to see the woman I’m in love with fuck someone else to avoid being charged with a crime? Even the thought of it cramps my gut.
“Send it.” No matter how much I don’t want to, I have to watch. I have to see if anything on the footage indicates why she hopped into bed with James Braden.
“I’ll do it when I get home.” Bret sighs. “I get that you’re really vibing with this chick, and she’s obviously smart enough to feed you a believable story. But it’s better to know the truth now, before you’re in even deeper.”
Like after we were engaged?
It feels absolutely shitty, but my brother is right.
Behind me, the bathroom door opens and Bethany walks out with a towel wrapped around her clean hair—and absolutely nothing else.
My jaw drops. My blood races. Guess what my cock is doing?
How stupid does that make me?
“Um, thanks. I gotta go.”
Bethany sends me a catlike smile and revs my libido even more.
“Call me tomorrow, after you’ve seen the footage,” Bret says. “Then we’ll talk about how to nail the bitch to the wall.”
“Later,” I mutter, staring at the woman who seemed to be everything I needed and wanted in a wife…and staggering because my happy vision from mere minutes ago is now falling apart.
“I’m serious, Clint.”
Bret is, and he has every reason to be.
“I know you’re trying to help. I’ll take it from here. And…thanks for looking out for me.”
“I’ve always got your back, bro. Get your head out of her pussy and do the right thing.”
With that, we hang up, and Bethany sways toward me. “Who was that?”
“One of my brothers.”
“Everything okay?”
No. It’s a fucking disaster. I want to confront her, but on the off chance Bret somehow got everything wrong, I don’t want to accuse her before I’ve seen the video. Besides, I’m tired. I’m stupidly fucking emotional. And I also haven’t found a way to be honest with Beth myself.
I can’t deal with any of this right now.
As I hurtle myself out of the chair, I swoop down and clandestinely scoop up the little ring box before pocketing it. Then I turn to her. “Fine. I’m ready to call it a night. You?”
“Well…” She sidles up to me, pressing her naked body against my bare chest and dusting kisses up my neck. “I’m ready for bed.”
If I take what she’s offering, she’ll only cloud my head. And if she lied to me, I can’t let myself want her anymore.
Somehow, I manage to grab only her shoulders and ease her away. “Sorry. I need a shower and some sleep.”
“Oh. Okay.” Bethany tries to hide her crestfallen expression, but I see her hurt. “All right. Good night.”
When she turns away, I hate to end our great—even momentous—day together on a sour note. I wish she could come clean and allay my worries, put this goddamn terrible suspicion to rest once and for all…
“Hey.” I grab her wrist and turn her to face me again. “I meant to ask you, what was on the video your dad is after? How did you blackmail the federal prosecutor?”
“He hooked up with a suspect.”
That’s all she’s going to say? “Who? Anyone you know?”
She blinks away. “No one important.”
Her lie guts me. I release her quickly, as if touching her burns me. Fuck, if she was so easily dishonest about this question, what else was she dishonest about?
“Gotcha. Sleep well.”
Shaking, I turn away and shut the door between us. That ring in my pocket? I might as well throw it in the trash. I’m still going to sleep on this and wait for Bret’s video, just in case it contains something that changes my mind. But it’s wishful fucking thinking. My broken heart finally agrees with my head. Bethany has played me, and I’ve just been too dazzled to see her for the beautiful manipulator she is.
