Secrets from Her Past: Scandalous, Book 2 Read online

  Dedication

  To my beautiful sister, Angel. There’s nothing quite like our trips to Starbucks which always turn into plotting…whether you like it or not. Love you more than my lattes!

  Chapter One

  He was going to hell.

  Or, quite possibly, he was there now.

  Working with his hands, gutting this old house was definitely the perfect way to let off steam. It was either that or get into a fight, which would probably end up getting him arrested, and since he had a clean record, he didn’t want to taint it now.

  Fate was a cruel bitch. There was no other way to look at it.

  But he wasn’t going to dwell on all the things that had gone wrong in his life. He certainly wasn’t going to think about all he’d lost up to this point. He was stronger than that.

  He wiped his forearm across his forehead and stepped back to look at the now-empty wall where all the old, dated cabinets had been. This process of restoring his old home was time-consuming, but the endless hours he’d put in would be worth it in the end. Considering he’d been restoring buildings and even erecting some from the ground up in the past ten years, he’d honed his skills and didn’t waste time getting to the final product.

  When he and his sister Evie were teens and lost the house after their parents died, Dylan vowed that one day he’d get it back. He was near thirty now, but better late than never.

  It felt odd being back here, sleeping in his old room. His sister had tried to get him to stay with her while he was renovating, but she’d just gotten engaged and he sure as hell wasn’t going to surround himself day in and day out with the happy couple.

  While he was positively thrilled with the fact Evie was engaged to one of his best friends and they were disgustingly in love with each other, he didn’t think it was his place to intrude on their happiness. Besides, they had enough to deal with, without big brother living under their roof.

  But thinking about his sister circled his thoughts back around to the pure hell that had landed in his life—he’d been betrayed by yet another person. One of his other friends, Alan. The man was lucky he was in jail because if he were out, Dylan had no doubt he’d kill the bastard for raping his sister and then blackmailing her about it.

  Just the sickening thought of Alan taking Evie’s innocence made him want to throw his crowbar, but he dropped it to the floor instead. No need to tear up his house more than necessary.

  Dylan walked over to the small jug of ice water he had on the sawhorses and took a long, refreshing drink.

  Glancing at the time, he realized he should probably get in the shower to get ready for that date tonight. Good thing he’d gotten all the plumbing fixed.

  This was his first date with the lady who always flirted with him at the small diner in town. She was cute, petite and just his type…considering his type was easy and not looking for anything beyond breakfast in the morning.

  He took another glance at his kitchen and sighed. Well, if she stayed that long, he’d go grab some donuts or something.

  As he walked through the bare living room—which had just had new hardwood flooring installed—he caught a glimpse of dark hair that flashed by the window.

  His gut clenched, but he knew he was either seeing things or it was just a coincidence. There was only one person he knew with that shade of hair, so black it had a glossy sheen—and she sure as hell wouldn’t be seen back in this town, considering she hadn’t been able to get out of it fast enough when they were seventeen.

  Damn. Really? Did his mind have to travel back that far through his living hell? As if his sister’s rape and his parents’ deaths weren’t enough, now he was thinking of the one bright spot he’d had in his life at that time. And it seemed when that bright light went out, so did all the others.

  A knock on his door had him shaking off the thoughts.

  He crossed to the newly installed, wide oak door and pulled it open. And that hell he’d been living in went to another level.

  “Dylan?”

  Gripping the door, he cringed at the sound of her voice. “Cori.”

  A faint smile haunted her lips. “It’s Corinne now.”

  Yeah, he knew that. Her name had been splashed across every damn magazine and news outlet in the country—hell, in the world—especially over the past six months, what with her little scandal.

  “Never thought I’d see you in this town again.”

  She laced her fingers together and stared him in the eye. “I never thought I’d be back.”

  Well, at least she was honest. Way too little, way too late.

  “I wasn’t sure who lived here now,” she went on, trying to look around him. “I just wanted to let my neighbors know that I’m staying next door again since Mom and Dad are in the assisted living facility. I didn’t want anyone to call the cops when they saw movement over there tonight.”

  Dylan laughed. “Yeah, you wouldn’t want the cops to be called. Your record is already tainted.”

  She flinched and paled a bit, but brought her chin up. “So do you and your family live here?”

  Opening the door a bit wider, he rested his hand on his hip and glared. “You may be back in town to lick your wounds, but whatever my life has going on is none of your concern.”

  “I’m sorry, I just—”

  Whatever she was saying was lost on him. He slammed the door in her face and stomped up the stairs to take a shower. As if his recent shitty mood needed to be worse—now he was going to have to deal with Miss High and Mighty next door for who knows how long.

  Great. Fan-freakin’-tabulous.

  Corinne walked back to her parents’ house. She should’ve known she’d encounter a cold reception from him, but she honestly didn’t expect to find Dylan in his childhood home either. If she’d known he was the one living there, she probably would’ve avoided the place at all costs. God knows, she’d avoided him for all these years…and for good reason.

  Reasons he could never know, because if he hated her now, he’d despise her if he knew the truth.

  She closed the door and moved into the living area. Memories enveloped her, consumed her and made her heart quicken. A lifetime had passed since she was here. So many lies, so much deceit.

  Corinne moved toward the mantel with its display of pictures. Drifting from one to the next, her throat tightened and her eyes burned with unshed tears.

  Corinne stopped at a picture of her as a little girl, maybe six or seven, playing with a bunny. The little girl in the picture was smiling, showing off her missing front teeth, and Corinne could almost hear laughter coming from the innocent child. Fear coursed through her at the fact she barely recognized the girl who grew up in this house, in these pictures. The face of that happy, innocent child wasn’t the same one she encountered in the mirror each day. Somewhere between that happy time in her life and now she’d become jaded and hardened…and crushed.

  From the looks of all the school and snapshot pictures, her parents hadn’t changed any of the photos after she’d gone. Perhaps they too were holding on to a dream that had been shattered by the man who paid a visit late one night.

  Her life had been changed forever that night and she was a victim—just like Dylan and Evie. But Dylan wouldn’t see it that way if he knew the truth. He’d probably see her as selfish, only looking out for herself and fleeing the scene. Perhaps she had been. Looking back, she’d had no other choice.

  She’d been a track star in high school. Ironic that she’d run when there was trouble at home and here she was running again when scandal surrounded her. She wished to God she were stronger, that she could come up with another way to deal with life-altering issues. />
  Corinne crossed the cozy room and fell down on the couch. This was new. They’d gotten rid of the old, bulky sectional and replaced it with a buttery-soft leather sofa. She sank into it as she rested her head against the back cushions.

  After months of grueling investigations and charge upon charge being brought against her, she’d finally been exonerated. But the DA had already warned her that he didn’t believe in her innocence and he wasn’t done digging for evidence. He assumed she’d used her name and her looks to get off. He couldn’t be further from the truth.

  In reality, she’d trusted the wrong people and had a proverbial “wrong time, wrong place” episode. Thankfully it was over. She wasn’t too worried about the DA digging because she knew there was nothing to find. She had more important things to worry about now. Especially her finances, since she’d spent nearly every dime she’d had on legal fees and investigators to help clear her name.

  Now she had to figure out how in the world she was going to continue to pay for her parents’ care at the rehabilitation facility where her mother was recovering from a stroke. Thankfully she could stay in their house, so that was covered, but she couldn’t hide here and mooch off them. They needed her and she couldn’t let them down.

  For once, she couldn’t run.

  She hadn’t been to see her parents yet, but it was getting late and she was exhausted after driving up from Miami. She’d rest and go see them first thing in the morning. She knew her father was worried about her. He’d called as soon as the story hit the news and she’d had to assure him that she was innocent. He’d been insulted she believed he thought the worst of her, but so many people she considered “friends” had hung her out to dry when she’d needed security the most.

  At least she still had her modeling contracts. That would bring in more funds once she got back to work. All she had to do was stay here for a bit until things died down, which shouldn’t take too long in this industry. Celebs were screwing up all the time, providing fodder for the media. By next week her woes would be forgotten by the world.

  No matter what happened now that she was back home, Corinne wouldn’t let the fact she’d been charged with, and then exonerated of, possession of cocaine—or the fact she was living next door to the one man who still held a place in her heart—ruin her plans. She’d recover from all of this and come out on top. She had to. Somehow.

  Dylan drove his date home, not even pretending he’d be coming inside. And that was a damn shame because Shelly had worn a tight little skirt that was just begging to have his hands pull it up and reveal the prize beneath.

  But he couldn’t. His mind was on the raven-haired vixen who was back in town, and damn if his sex life was going to be paraded past her. He’d just been thrown off his game, that’s all. He didn’t want Cori back—he’d just had a bad day and the timing of his date tonight sucked.

  Shelly had pouted a bit at her door when he’d kissed her good night, but he just couldn’t follow her inside. Not that he was in a hurry to go home alone, but he couldn’t dedicate tonight to Shelly. He may love women, but he wasn’t a jerk. He wasn’t a man who slept with one woman while fantasizing about another.

  Dylan raked a hand through his hair and turned onto his road where there were only a handful of houses to begin with, so the fact he had to live right next to her irritated the hell out of him.

  She’d seemed legitimately upset when he’d mentioned the cops and charges, but getting caught had probably not been part of her plan. More than likely she was embarrassed the whole world knew “Corinne”, the beautiful supermodel, had a small drug problem.

  And that’s what irritated him the most. How in the hell did she let that happen? She was beautiful, sexy, had everything she could ever want at her fingertips and she’d gotten wrapped up in that lifestyle?

  Damn it. More than likely, like some other celebrities, she’d used her money, and maybe even had flaunted her looks, to get the charges dropped.

  As he pulled into his drive, all the lights in the other houses were off, except for the one he’d left on in his living room and the one in Cori’s living room. He saw her standing there looking out the window and his heart clutched. No. He couldn’t feel anything for her. She’d made her choice years ago and now she was living with the consequences.

  Dylan parked in his driveway and slammed the door. His mood was just getting better and better.

  When Cori’s front door slammed, he froze. Surely she wasn’t coming back over.

  “Dylan.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. Apparently he was wrong.

  Turning to see where she was, he saw her crossing her lawn toward him. Mercy sakes, she was wearing a little black silk robe and nothing else…that he could tell. And that thin material was clinging to her breasts, her hips.

  Kill me now. Just kill me and get the torture over with.

  “What?” he asked, his voice rough—which she probably took for irritation, but if he was honest with himself, it stemmed from pure arousal.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, as if that would stop him from seeing the outline of her perfect breasts beneath that poor excuse for a robe.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. Believe me, I tried to think of something else, but—”

  “Just say it.”

  Her eyes widened and she swallowed. “There’s a bat in my bedroom. I was headed to bed a few minutes ago and it was on my curtain.”

  Shit. Was she serious? Not only did he have to see her half-dressed, now she needed him in her bedroom? And not for wild sex, but for pest control? This date night was just getting better and better. He’d turned down a sure thing, all to be drawn into the bedroom of the woman his body truly wanted. He’d no doubt leave with a hard-on and a foul mood.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you hate me, but can you help?”

  Why, why did he have to have that gentleman streak in him?

  Because his father had been the kindest man he knew and his mother had raised him right. And because he never could stand to see a vulnerable woman.

  “Come on.” He moved around her, eager to get in, get out and get the hell home. Alone. “Which bedroom?”

  She followed him up the porch. “My old bedroom.”

  Of course it was. The room where they’d both lost their virginity to each other when they’d been fifteen. God, the thought of that age…they’d practically still been kids. They’d fumbled through putting on the condom, he’d nearly come as she was trying to roll it on him. They’d both laughed like idiots afterward and had sex again a few hours later since they were “now experienced and all”…and her parents still weren’t home.

  “Do you have a broom?” he asked as he entered the foyer.

  She moved to the small closet and pulled one out. “What else do you need?” she asked, trying to clutch her robe together.

  Too late. He’d already seen the swell of those tanned breasts. And no matter the years that had passed, he could still feel them, taste them.

  Great, now he was standing in her house, ready to kill a bat in her bedroom, and he had a boner. Sex with Cori was completely out of the question, which meant he’d have to resolve that issue later by himself. Could he have a more pathetic day?

  “Grab me a bag and stay outside the door,” he told her. “I’ll tell you when it’s dead and you bring me the bag. Okay?”

  She nodded and moved down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Fantastic. Watching her walk away was just as torturous as watching her walk toward him. The robe barely covered her rounded rear and that silk slid against her body like a lover’s hands.

  Cursing himself for his adolescent thoughts and raging hard-on, Dylan went to the bedroom door and eased it open. He poked his head in and, sure enough, across the room on the bright yellow curtain was a small black bat.

  In no time Dylan killed the bat and it fell lifelessly to the hardwood floor. He tapped it with the toe of his boot to double-check before he called Cori i
n.

  “Come on in, Cori.” He purposely used her real name because he refused to call her the made-up one. Her legal name was Cori, not Corinne, as the rest of the world knew her.

  She eased the door open, her eyes darting around. “Where is it?”

  “Dead.”

  He reached for the bag and she crossed the room to hand it to him. He put his hand inside the bag to hold on to the plastic while picking up the bat. Once he had the creature in hand, he turned the bag inside out and tied it. Ignoring the visible shudder from Cori, he walked through her house and out her back door in search of the trash. Once he disposed of the critter, he went into the bathroom to wash his hands.

  Dylan stopped in the bedroom to tell her he was leaving, but the sight of her with her back to the door, shoulders slumped and head hanging, twisted something inside of him. But he had to steel himself against her because he was still feeling the aftershocks of his sister’s vulnerability and he couldn’t get wrapped up in another female with emotional woes.

  Yet he found himself moving into the room, just a step, then two. He stood right behind her, but didn’t touch her. Touching was a big hell no.

  “I’m going to go,” he told her. Saying it out loud made it more believable. “The bat is outside in the trash.”

  She lifted her head and turned, and now that they were in the light and she was looking right at him, he noticed she’d washed off her makeup and her eyes were nearly hollow with dark circles.

  With a slight smile, she nodded. “Thank you, Dylan. I’ll try not to bother you again.”

  He felt like an ass. Apparently she was upset, for good reason because her life was a mess, but there was no need for him to be a complete jerk to her. So she’d jilted him years ago. Enough time had passed that he should be over it…and he was. Well, he’d thought he was until she showed up at his doorstep earlier. They had been teens, for pity’s sake. They weren’t even the same kids they’d been.

  “Look.” He sighed, rested his hands on his hips to keep from ripping that robe off of her and seeing if she still felt the same beneath him. “I don’t want you to think I hate you. You said that earlier. We have a history and, yes, it’s uncomfortable with you back, but I’m not purposely trying to be mean. I’m sorry I slammed the door in your face. I’ve got a lot going on and you just threw me off, that’s all.”