A Touch of Scarlet. Liz Talley

said, shuffling papers around on his desk. “I’m pretty busy here, so if you don’t need anything, I’ll have to let you—”

      “Wait,” Angi chirped. “I do need one itty-bitty favor.”

      He slapped down the paperwork. Of course she did. “What?”

      “Well, it’s not that big of a deal, but this past Wednesday I went out with some girls from the shop. We all thought Sheryl Lynn was the designated driver. It was her turn. But she thought it was Cathy’s turn. Well, anyway, I ended up having to drive ’cause Sheryl Lynn had four belly shots and—”

      “You got a DUI?”

      “Well…” She hesitated, the slightest edge to her voice. “Yeah.”

      “Nothing I can do about that, Ang.”

      “But you know people in the department. You can call Chief Ahern and—”

      He tried to remain calm. Had to. “I don’t work for HPD anymore. Besides, you—”

      “But your daddy is the—”

      “Do not go there,” he said, no longer able to keep the anger out of his voice. He knew who his daddy was. No one had to tell him.

      “Please, Adam. I don’t want to have to deal with all this. Things have been slow at the store and—”

      “No.” The anger wasn’t because Angi had called him to use him. He’d accustomed himself to her manipulations long ago. The fact she wanted him to use, no, abuse, his family’s connections to get her out of something she damn well deserved…that snapped something inside him.

      “Adam, just this once, baby.”

      “You deserve the citation. You’ll have to take the punishment. You could have killed someone or even killed yourself. You do a lot of stupid things, lady. But that takes the cake.”

      “I can’t believe you won’t help me,” she cried, all pretense now gone. “You want to play morality police, when you have the power to make this go away. I guess I should expect that from someone like you. You throw your weight around when it benefits you, but you wouldn’t deem to spit on me. I forgot. I’m nothing but trailer trash, right? Never was good enough for you. I can’t believe you didn’t make me get an abortion in the first place. You—”

      “This conversation is over. Our relationship is over. Don’t call me again.” Pain ripped across his chest at her words. They were the same words she’d battered him with every time they fought. She threw up her less than advantageous background. She threw up his wealthy family connections. And she threw up the baby who had never been born. The baby who had slipped away two weeks after they’d gotten married at the courthouse.

      “You mean, until you’re ready to get busy,” she said, her tone low and mean.

      “That was a mistake I won’t be making again. You’re a beautiful woman, Angi, but you were right from the beginning. We don’t belong together. We never did. Don’t call back.”

      He pressed the end button before he said anything more. Anger, regret and guilt twisted in his gut, and his fist itched to connect with something. He stared at the silent office before shoving his chair from his desk and grabbing the hat he’d earlier tossed onto the table beside the battle-scarred door.

      He felt twitchy and restless. Only one solution for that.

      Strip down and go toe-to-toe with someone.

      The image of Scarlet Rose with arched back and jutting breasts flashed across his mind. Not exactly what he had in mind.

      He needed a fight. Not a woman.

      He punched the numbers on his cell phone. The ones that would bring him needed release. Then he’d call Jared back to the station to cover. He needed to pound the frustrations from his body and then he could do another sweep of the town.

      If he got lucky, he might find that damned pig.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      SCARLET STARED AT HER PLATE before sliding her gaze to where her eight-year-old nephew sat chomping happily on Pop-Tarts. “What’s the white stuff in the eggs?”

      Henry shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. Probably goat cheese. She likes to put that in everything.”

      “Bluck.”

      Her sister’s new husband glanced at her before redirecting his attention to the freshly squeezed orange juice sitting at his elbow. “Thought city slickers liked fancy eggs.”

      “You thought wrong.” Scarlet couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice. She didn’t want to talk to Brent Hamilton. She edged one shoulder forward, effectively cutting him out of her world. She scooted closer to her nephew, who stuffed his frosted pastry in his mouth, though he eyed her a bit warily. Guess he thought she might go after his breakfast. She was tempted. “Are you supposed to be eating those? I thought your mom wouldn’t allow you to eat anything with chemical crap in it.”

      Henry slid his gaze to Brent, who had, for the most part, ignored her after her venomous comeback. And she, too, had tried to pretend he wasn’t sitting kitty-corner from her, but that mission remained unsuccessful. For one thing, Brent was a good six-three and easily weighed two hundred and thirty pounds. For another, he was the type of guy who attracted attention as naturally as he breathed. With his dark wavy hair, icy-blue eyes and rugged good looks, he’d been popular with the ladies of Howard County for excellent reason.

      She wished her parents had stayed at the inn instead of with a friend outside town. Nothing like Moon-beam—or whatever her mother was known as these days—to bring serenity to a table. Her mother preferred silent contemplation during meals.

      “Pop-Tarts every now and then won’t hurt,” Brent said, meeting her gaze. He didn’t look afraid of her. More as if he didn’t want to bother with her.

      “Oh, really?” Scarlet challenged, for no other reason than she was pissed she had to eat goat-cheese eggs with a man she knew was going to break her sister’s heart…if not give her VD.

      He didn’t blink. “Yeah, really.”

      “At it already, I see,” Rayne said as she breezed into the breakfast room. She looked gorgeous in a ruffled skirt and sleeveless lawn blouse with tiny roses embroidered along the neck. Her copper curls tumbled around her shoulders, framing her smiling face. Rayne looked…in love.

      “Morning,” Rayne said, scooping an arm around her son and dropping a kiss on his head. She snagged a corner off the pastry and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm, strawberry. My favorite.”

      Scarlet gaped. Her sister never ate anything that wasn’t “of the earth.” Which certainly did not include anything that came in a box or contained frosting and dyes.

      Rayne moved on to her husband, grazing his scruffy cheek with a light kiss. “Morning to you, too. Again.”

      A devilish light appeared in Brent’s eyes. Scarlet wanted to barf.

      “Morning, baby,” he said, tugging her toward him so he could cop a cheap feel. Okay. Maybe a pat on the bottom wasn’t a cheap feel. Maybe it was a sweet display of affection. And maybe Kim Kardashian would win an Oscar.

      “You, too, Scarlet,” Rayne said with a little smug smile.

      Did she think the little display of family bonding would suddenly change Scarlet’s opinion on the bone-head decision her sister had made in marrying Brent? Scarlet wasn’t that easy. Even if some people thought she was.

      “Morning,” Scarlet said, pushing a piece of asparagus to the top of the plate in order to make a roof over the family of disgusting eggs. Who in the world ate asparagus for breakfast anyhow?

      Rayne grabbed a floral-patterned plate off the buffet and loaded it with asparagus and one piece of toast. Guess that question was answered. Yuck.