Backlash Tender Trap Aftermath - Lisa Jackson Page 0,50

here,” she replied, keeping her voice low.

“In the house?”

“I think so.”

Mitchell swore roundly, twisting so that he could see his sister.

Hoping beyond hope that Mitchell wouldn’t notice her swollen lips or flushed cheeks, Tessa poured herself a cup of coffee with unsteady hands. “How’s Dad?”

“How do you think he is? He told me what happened in the barn.” Mitchell’s green eyes darkened dangerously and deep lines grooved his forehead.

“Dad shouldn’t drink so much,” Tessa said, taking the chair across from her brother. Placing her elbows on the table, she sipped from her cup, but didn’t taste the coffee.

“Who’s gonna tell him? You?”

“Maybe.”

“Why? You’ve tried before. Nothing changed.”

“I know, but tonight was different. He dropped the bottle, the whiskey sprayed all over the floor. If he’d been smoking, God only knows what would’ve happened.”

“Dad doesn’t smoke in the barn.”

Tessa gritted her teeth. “What if he forgets? If he’s had one drink too many?”

“When has that ever happened?”

Tessa swallowed back the cold lump of betrayal that formed in her throat. “Maybe seven years ago.”

Mitchell’s feet dropped to the floor. “No way.” His green eyes squinted indignantly as he scanned her face and his jaw became granite-hard. “Don’t tell me McLean’s got your thinking all turned around,” he whispered. Shoving a lock of wheat-blond hair off his forehead, he let out a long, low whistle and shook his head. “Well, I’ll be,” he murmured sadly. “You’re falling for him again, aren’t you?”

“I am not.”

“Oh, no?” His gaze dropped to her lips, so recently kissed, then traveled a knowing path to the scarlet creeping steadily up her neck. His jaw slackened. “Come on, Tessa, don’t do this. Not again. McLean’s no good. You and I both know it. I was there to pick up the pieces, remember?”

Tessa would never forget how good Mitchell had been, how he’d helped her battle the numbing cold that had settled upon her when she’d finally accepted the fact that Denver had left her. “If Denver’s so bad,” she asked, her spine stiffening, “why all the friendly talk at the table tonight?”

“He’s the boss,” Mitchell said simply. “I don’t like it, but there it is.”

Sighing, she leaned against the wall. “You sound just like Dad.”

“I’m just trying to get through the next few weeks, then I’m out of here,” he reminded her. “School starts the end of September. I may not like McLean, but I’m trying not to ruffle his feathers—which, by the way, was your advice.” His lips tightened and sadness stole into his gaze. “Besides, I’m just trying to get along with the bastard—you’re on the verge of having an affair with him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She wanted to slap him and shout that a love affair with Denver McLean was the last thing on her mind, but Mitchell had already guessed the truth. She cleared her throat. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I saw enough of his kind in the Army. A different girl in every city.” She started to protest but he held up one hand, palm out. “Sure, you’re here and available. So he’s interested.”

“I am not ‘available.’”

Mitchell’s face grew taut, as if he could read something new in her gaze. “Oh, God, Tess, don’t tell me you’ve been saving yourself for him.”

“I’m not telling you anything! What happens between Denver and me is between us.”

Mitchell looked sick. “I just don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself again. Don’t you remember how much he hurt you? How he left without one word? How he and Colton accused Dad of murder? Murder!”

“No one actually said—”

“If it hadn’t been for John McLean, Dad would have been strung up by his heels. Colton and Denver would have seen to it.”

“But it didn’t happen, did it? John gave Dad a chance.”

“And now you’re giving Denver one.” Mitchell’s hands were actually shaking when he shoved his hair from his eyes. “I can’t tell you what to do, Tessa. I never could. But for God’s sake, be careful. I wouldn’t trust Denver McLean any more than I would a nest of rattlesnakes.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Mitchell scraped his chair back. “While you’re remembering, don’t forget that McLean’s been in L.A. a long time. You think he’s been without a woman all that time?”

“I don’t really care.”

One golden eyebrow arched as Mitchell said, “No? Well, think about it, Tessa. All of a sudden, he’s interested in you. So what happened to the past seven years? Why hasn’t he called, written or stopped by? All that time while his uncle was