Sins from Her Past (Scandalous) (17 page)

She cursed her moment of weakness. Why hadn’t she given him a knee to his most prized possession? Why hadn’t she hit him, slapped him, anything to make him see she wasn’t going to be that same girl he once knew?

Even though she’d just left Vin’s house, she headed inside to pack a bag. There was no way she’d let Alan get near Vincent. Evelyn didn’t think he’d really hurt his friend, but she’d also never imagined him for a rapist when she was younger, either. Looks could be so deceiving and he had that handsome, rich politician’s son look down to a fine art.

Vin wouldn’t question her at all for coming back and staying. He’d begged her not to leave anyway, but she had to make sure he didn’t think this was her moving in with him.

Somehow, she had to keep an eye on him, keep control of her roller coaster of emotions and make sure Alan didn’t completely lose his mind and cause everything to blow up in her face. Because if the past came out, then not only would the rape come out, but so would the fact that she’d allowed it to go beyond that for so long, just to keep those she loved happy.

Vin drove to Dylan’s childhood home. The place was literally falling down after years of being neglected and abandoned. It was one of five houses on this little road and the other ones weren’t much better. Vin had a feeling Dylan would end up buying each house, now that he could afford to, and fixing them up to sell.

He pulled in behind Dylan’s black work truck and got out. As he circled the old home, he couldn’t help but see a young Evie running through the yard, perhaps swinging on a tire swing or sitting on the porch steps giggling with her friends. He wanted to know more about her childhood, her past…the evil period that weighed so heavily on their relationship. He knew he would never get those defensive walls fully down until he knew the whole truth.

Did she think he’d love her less if she told him? Whatever it was, didn’t she know that he didn’t care? He’d loved her for so long, it just didn’t matter to him.

But she had to realize that for herself. She had to trust him enough to let him handle the truth. God help them both when he finally learned it, because he had a feeling, whatever it was, it could and probably would break his heart.

“Hey, man.”

Vin turned to see Dylan shirtless, sporting a tool belt low on his hips.

“Just thought I’d stop by to see if you needed any help.”

Dylan wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. “I’ll always take another hand. Aren’t you working today?”

“Evie is handling some calls and finalizing a few things. I’m leaving the interior in her capable hands.”

“Smart man,” Dylan laughed. “She tends to get grouchy when people try to tell her what to do.”

Not always,
he thought as an image of her in bed flashed through his mind.

“I’m in the middle of tearing out the floor of the kitchen if you’ve just got a hard-on for boring grunt work.”

Vin shrugged. “I’m here to serve.”

“Come on in,” Dylan motioned toward the back porch. “I’ll show you around, but don’t expect much. And watch your step.”

Vin followed Dylan into the old Victorian-style house. The kitchen was fairly small, but the ceilings were high and it had one wall of windows in what he assumed would be the breakfast area.

The living room, dining room and foyer were all good-sized rooms and Vin listened as his friend boasted with pride about all the ideas and dreams he had for this house.

“So you’re going to live here, right?” Vin asked.

“Yeah. There’s no way I’ll let this house get away from me again.” Dylan moved to the narrow, curved steps. “I haven’t even started up here so it’s still pretty much a mess.”

Heat blasted him about halfway up. No wonder Dylan had started downstairs. Hades was probably cooler than the second story of this home.

Whoever had lived here last had not taken care of the place. The old wooden rail was squeaky and wobbly and the carpet in the upstairs had been stained and half pulled away from the floor beneath.

“The original hardwood is all under here,” Dylan told him. “I’ll pull this shit up and make sure it’s still in good condition to be refinished.”

There was an impressive master bedroom and three smaller bedrooms and one more bath. Vin couldn’t imagine taking something as large as this and doing it alone.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you,” Vin said as they started back downstairs.

“It’ll all be worth it,” Dylan told him. “I love the work and I’m just happy to have my house back.”

“Has Evie been by yet?”

Dylan came to the bottom of the steps and headed back to the kitchen. “Not yet. I think it’s still too hard for her.”

She hadn’t even mentioned it to him. Just another part of her past she was suppressing and trying to keep out of their future.

“She’ll come around,” Vin said. “She’s been really working hard on this project of mine.”

Dylan turned and smirked. “You sorry I asked you to give her a chance?”

“Hell no.” If Dylan only knew how much he meant that. “Her ideas are fresh. Nothing at all what I was envisioning, but better. She’s got an amazing talent.”

“I’m glad you guys are getting along so well.”

A twinge of guilt irritated Vin, but he couldn’t say anything, not without knowing what Evelyn wanted. If she wanted her brother to know, either she could tell him or they would tell him together. This relationship was still so new, he wasn’t quite sure how to handle things and he sure as hell didn’t want to screw anything up.

“So where do you want me?”

Chapter Fifteen

By the time Vin got home, he was already sore, tired and sweaty. He loved working with his hands. Reminded him of years ago when he and Dylan had worked for that construction company during the summers between college terms. Getting back to his roots was very humbling and made him respect his best friend all the more.

He smiled at the black Jeep in his drive. Evelyn was here…where she belonged.

When he went into the house through the garage and into the kitchen, he didn’t see her. He worked his way through the whole downstairs and still didn’t see her.

It was getting late, maybe she’d already gotten in bed. His bed. Also where she belonged.

He stripped off his shirt, jeans, shoes and socks and left the smelly pile in the laundry room. Wearing only his black boxer-briefs, he made his way up the steps to his room. By the time he hit the second floor, a floral scent of…jasmine?…hit his senses.

Off-key singing came from his room and he smiled. Lord, she was a terrible singer, but her flaws were so few, how could he complain? The singing was so bad, in fact, he couldn’t even identify the song she was butchering.

He walked through his room, grinning when he saw a small purple suitcase with her things in it, open and on the floor beside the bed. She should go ahead and unpack. She wasn’t going anywhere if he had any say-so.

Vin propped a shoulder against the doorjamb and watched as Evelyn shaved one shapely leg. Her body was covered in bubbles as she continued her bath in his oversized garden tub. With her back to him, and that singing that only dogs could identify with, he knew she hadn’t heard him approach.

He waited until she was done shaving before he entered, because if he startled her, he sure as hell didn’t want her to cut herself.

“Ma’am, I believe you’re breaking and entering,” he said as he came to stand beside the tub.

Evelyn sat upright, then laughed. “God, you scared me. I wasn’t sure when you’d be home and I wanted a bubble bath. Hope you don’t mind.”

“A naked woman in my house? Yeah, I really mind.” He laughed, shucking his underwear. “I’m so pissed.”

She scooted up when he slid into the tub at the opposite end. “You look filthy,” she told him. “All sweaty and…sexy.”

He grinned as his legs intertwined with hers beneath the girly bubbles. He’d be more than happy to smell like a flower garden if it meant having Evelyn comfortable enough in his home to let her guard down.

“I was helping your brother,” he told her. “We ripped up the old kitchen tile and started tearing out the cabinets.”

Sadness flashed through her eyes. “Was it terribly run-down?”

“Yes,” he told her. He had never lied to her and wouldn’t start now just to sugarcoat things. “But Dylan has some great plans and it will be amazing when he’s done.”

“He’s so talented,” she said with a grin. “I just don’t know if I can go see it yet.”

“Nobody said you had to.” Vin scooted up, gripped her thighs and pulled her so her legs were back behind his waist. “Have I mentioned how glad I am you’re here?”

“No.” She rubbed against him. “But I can tell you’re pretty excited to see me.”

“You have no idea.”

With his hands around her waist, he eased forward until his lips gently touched hers. Her hands came up to cup his shoulders as he coaxed her mouth open and slid his tongue in. She tasted of ice cream.

He eased back and grinned. “Help yourself to my rocky road in the freezer?”

“Maybe,” she replied with a grin. “You know it’s my favorite.”

“Mine too. You better have saved me some.”

“I may have left a bite or two.”

He laughed and moved his hands to her shoulders and she winced.

“You okay?” he asked, swiping away the bubbles that had covered her.

Small round bruises stared back at him and Vin saw red. “What the hell happened, Evie?”

“It’s nothing. I just bruise easily.”

“Like hell, Evelyn.” He looked into her eyes and was surprised she wouldn’t meet his. “What the hell happened? Those are finger marks. Who touched you?”

She turned her face away and sighed. Silence slid between them and before he knew what she intended, she pushed up from the tub and got out.

Damn it. What asshole had done that and why the hell did she feel the need to cover for the bastard?

“Evie—”

“No.” She turned to face him with her hand up. “I said it’s nothing, just leave it at that.”

He came to his feet and stepped out onto the mat, grabbing a towel from the rack. After he rid himself of all those damn bubbles, he felt he could actually man-up and talk to her.

“I can’t let this slide,” he told her. “I love you and if some asshole touched you, hurt you, I have the right to know.”

After wrapping herself in a towel, she glared at him. “You have the right? Because we have sex? Because you love me? I’m not owned by you or anybody else and I’m sick of people thinking I owe them anything.”

Her voice cracked on that last word and she fled from the room. Vin clutched his towel and watched her until she disappeared. The slam of the door from one of the guest bedrooms soon followed.

While he didn’t want to push her, he also refused to allow anyone to hurt her. Ever. She might not tell him now, but he would find out and he would tear apart the bastard who had the audacity to put his marks on her.

He knew storming after her would only make the situation worse, but he didn’t want her to think he’d let this go either. He hopped into the shower to wash off the sweet floral scent.

When he was done, he hadn’t cooled off any over seeing Evie’s tanned skin marred by some bastard’s fingerprints, but he had calmed enough not to yell at her for protecting the jerk.

Vin pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and went out into the hall. The room across from his was the only one with the door closed. He knocked and waited. He tried the knob and was surprised she hadn’t locked him out.

When he pushed open the door, he found her lying on the bed. Asleep. Her towel had slipped somewhat and the swell of her breasts was exposed as were her shapely, sexy thighs. As always, his body responded, but he wasn’t going to wake her for make-up sex. Especially since he’d moved closer and now saw the tear tracks on her cheeks.

Her damp hair hung in ropelike masses across the pillow and comforter. Vin moved around the other side of the bed and came to lie behind her. When he wrapped an arm around her waist, she sighed in her sleep.

Vin vowed to defend her, to protect her, and to guard her from here on out. Whatever the hell she had faced in her past, he had a gut-wrenching feeling they were about ready to come face-to-face with it before they could move on to their future.

“Come on, Evelyn.”

Tears streamed down her cheek. She had no choice. What should she do? If she didn’t let him have his way, his father may not believe her, then where would she be? In a foster home at the age of sixteen? What would happen to her brother’s college tuition?

“Why are you doing this to me?” she pleaded. “I don’t want to do this again.”

Alan’s fingertip slid over her shoulder and down to the V in her T-shirt. “You’ve only done it once. I think you’ll get the hang of it. Besides, there are new things I want to show you.”

She cried harder. Being sixteen and having your virginity stolen was nightmare enough. Why did he want more?

“I can’t,” she told him.