The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play #3) - B.B. Reid Page 0,41

you changed clothes to clean it up?”

“Hey, that rhymed!” She flashed me a goofy grin, and I squeezed her arm in return.

“Nice try. If you were having coffee, why does it smell like lemons and bleach in here?”

“Not everyone is comfortable with the smell of dirty socks and used condoms, Jameson. Now let me go!”

I almost laughed at her assumption, but then she tried to free herself and ended up with her breasts pressed against my chest when I pulled her closer. I leaned down and enjoyed the pure panic flashing in her eyes until I began sniffing her rubber gloves. Poison Ivy actually thought I was stupid enough to kiss her.

“What do you know… lemon. You were cleaning. Why?” She looked away, and when I finally let her arm go, she began smoothing out her apron. “Stop stalling and answer me.”

Her gaze narrowed to slits at my tone, so I leaned against the wall and got comfortable.

This should be good.

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you, and then I’ll have to get out the bleach again to clean up all the blood.”

Sighing, I stood up straight. “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m here. Bleach won’t hide blood from a forensic expert. Where’s the body?”

Not missing a beat, she nodded toward the double doors I’d snuck through so many times. “Buried out back.”

“Please tell me it’s your dad.”

Her smile was contagious, and before long, we were grinning at each other like idiots. It didn’t last, but for the first time since returning to Blackwood Keep, I didn’t lose hope. Moments like these were happening more and more often. If only I could find a way to make them last.

Frustrated, I shook off those fanciful thoughts. I wasn’t interested in falling for Barbette Montgomery ever again, but if I could make her fall for me… oh, what sweet revenge.

“Sadly, he’s still breathing and off somewhere terrorizing the villagers. He’ll be back soon, so you should leave.”

I started to respond when something she said stopped me.

Sadly?

Barbette and Elliott had never been poster models for an ideal father-daughter relationship, but to my knowledge, she hadn’t hated him. And not nearly enough to actually want him dead. Knowing I wouldn’t get any answers today, I filed the thought away for safekeeping.

Barbette had already turned away, so I couldn’t see her face when I spoke. “Speaking of dead fathers, I’d like to know why you think it’s okay to use mine for revenge.”

She spun around, her beautiful face twisted with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You made my mother cry, Barbette”—slowly, I placed one foot in front of the other until I was close enough to wrap my hand around her lovely neck—“so I came to make you cry.”

“I only told her you were smoking, and your disgusting habit was getting worse. She was angry, but she seemed fine.”

“People are not always what they seem, Barbette. You taught me that. You taught me so many things.”

Her nostrils flared, but she wisely steered clear of my claim. “What does your smoking have to do with your father’s death?”

“He’d been a smoker all his life, Bee. You know that. He died from lung cancer.” My hand tightened around her throat, making her eyes bulge. “You want to tell me you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t,” she whimpered.

I scoffed, unsure if I believed her, but knowing it didn’t matter. “And you think that excuses you?” A tear slipped from her beautiful, blue eyes, and I swiped it away with my thumb. “Is the fact that you didn’t care enough to know how my father died supposed to make me feel better?”

“I cared!”

“Not. Enough.”

“I was afraid, Jamie.”

I paused. What the hell could Bee have possibly been afraid of? That I’d reject her? Never. Not only was I not strong enough, but I could never do what she’d done to me. “So was I. It was my father who died, and you didn’t even fucking call.” I shoved her away and was caught completely off guard when she didn’t flee for safety. Her hands were reaching for me, and afraid I’d finally crumble if she touched me, I grabbed her bun in a vicious hold and backed her against the nearest wall. “Stay away from me. Forget I ever existed, and I’ll do the same.”

Lies. All lies.

Instead of heeding my warning, her trembling hand cupped my cheek. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jamie.”

“You’ve had five years to think of what to say, and the best you can give