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“Kenna,” Dec breathed, reaching for me but yanking his hand back when the news van pulled up next to us. “Fuck!”
I slid out the passenger door of his truck, not wanting to be part of whatever was happening here. That was Dec’s mess to deal with, not mine. He was the one with secrets, not me. As Lars shouted through the window at Dec, I hurried up the embankment to the causeway, my sandals slapping against the pavement. The downtown area was just ahead. I needed to find Char. She’d give me a ride home.
Home.
Dammit, Aunt Maeve’s house had truly become home to me. But now it was tainted by the man living next door. The man whose fingerprints and memories were all over my house. If he’d lied about his identity, what else had he lied about? What other secrets could blindside me at an inopportune time?
No. I couldn’t think about that right now. I needed to get home and sort out everything that had been revealed first. Then I could deal with the fallout. The shiny glass door of Char’s salon came into view and I broke out into a run, so focused on getting to her that I didn’t even notice the other people on the sidewalk or the cars zooming by. I flung it open, two other hairdressers’ heads popping up as their hands were busy on their client’s heads.
“Char?” My voice was no more than a croak.
“In the back, hun,” one of them said kindly, pointing to the door in the corner.
I hurried through the salon and nearly sagged with relief when Char’s head lifted from the table where she was eating a snack.
“Kenna?” she asked, dropping the food and standing immediately. I fell into her arms, letting her hold me as she shoved the door closed for privacy. “What is going on, sweetie?”
I felt like I hadn’t slept in several days. My fatigue from the events of today were finally catching up to me. I pulled back from her hug and twisted to have a seat on the small couch in the break room. Char sat next to me, patiently waiting me out.
“Dec,” I began, but then sputtered out. I was angry, but I also didn’t want to cause more trouble for him. “Do you know about him?”
Char’s look turned cautious. “Are you talking about his past?”
I nodded emphatically.
“Oh, sweetie, did he finally tell you?” Char gripped my hands where they were twisting in my lap.
Tears filled my eyes. “No. But a reporter did.”
“That dumbass cowboy has not one lick of sense in his thick skull,” Char cursed, looking angry on my behalf. She squeezed my hands again. “Yeah, I knew, Kenna. The whole town knows and we protect his identity. None of us want the town overrun by paparazzi and gawkers.”
I shook my head, mind absolutely blown today. “So everyone knows?” At her nod of confirmation, I started to process everything. “Holy crap, Char! He’s a country music god! And I slept with him!”
Char’s face instantly transformed into a wicked grin. “Yeah, you did. Nicely done, sweetie.”
“No! That’s not a good thing! I mean, I slept with him and didn’t even know who he was. What a fool I must look like to him. Now I’m not sure if anything I believed about Dec is true!”
Char let go of my hands and sat back against the couch. “Listen. We don’t keep Dec’s secret to make fools out of people. Dec came here to escape, and everyone deserves a home where they can be themselves without their every move being on the front cover of a magazine. I won’t tell you why he quit country music and moved here. That’s his story to tell, and if he isn’t a complete dumbass, he’ll actually tell you before you hear it from someone else. But I need you to give him a chance to explain.”
I huffed, feeling so defensive I wasn’t sure I could listen to anything Char had to say in defense of the man who’d lied to me. “He had all summer to explain himself. Apparently what we had wasn’t worth being honest.”
Char put her arm around my shoulders. “Honey, that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I agree with you though. He should have told you, but those kinds of things can’t be rushed. If it wasn’t for the reporter today, I’m sure he would have told you eventually.”
I sagged against her. “But we can’t be sure, can we?”
Char looked as sad as I felt. “I guess not,” she finally said.
She took me home, offering to come in with me, but I turned her down. I needed to tell Mom what had transpired today before she heard it from Daniel. I needed some time on my own to figure out what I was going to do. But Mom wasn’t home and neither was Daniel. The great big house was empty, something I tried not to take as a sign for things ahead.
I went upstairs and changed, washing off the makeup I’d worn for the interview and started drawing a warm bubble bath. After my hands became prunes and I was no closer to solving the problems in my personal life, I stepped out of the bath and headed for the closet for clean pajamas.
Aunt Maeve’s urn stared down from the shelf where I’d been keeping her. The lusty mermaid wink seemed to mock me, a happy, irreverent resting place for a woman who’d lived life on her own terms. Aunt Maeve would never be the butt of a man’s joke. She was so powerful in her feminine glory even after death, she’d saved my life, coming through with an escape plan that sent me on a new path. And look how I’d already messed that up.
“I’m trying, Aunt Maeve, I’m trying,” I whispered, pulling on pajamas and crawling into bed even though it was still light out.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dec
