Rushed: Hushed Part 16

She sat down beside me. "Not the best picture of me. I was so...sick that day."

And there was my imagination again, imagining she really meant heartsick.

I reached for the photo alb.u.m in her lap. "Are there any more pictures?"

As I pulled it from her, I startled her. She jumped and the photo alb.u.m fell from her lap. As we both reached for it, a letter envelope fluttered out.

I leaned forward to pick it up at the same time she did. She s.n.a.t.c.hed it up. But not before I got a look at the return address scrawled in the left-hand corner in a distinctly masculine block script.

Rick Butler.

My world spun. For a second, I felt dizzy, nauseated, and sick. Like I'd been spinning and spinning and suddenly come to a stop. This can't be!

My mouth went completely dry, but I managed to speak. "What's that?"

"Oh, nothing. Just an old letter from a friend." She snapped the alb.u.m closed. "That's enough reminiscing."

She held out her hand for the wedding picture.

I handed it back to her and watched as she put it and the letter back in the alb.u.m.

"We should call Ken. Make him take us out to dinner and bore him to death with bridal show talk." She was trying hard to be lighthearted.

I told myself to breathe deeply. I was still reeling with shock and needed time to process. I needed to talk to someone. Like Olivia. Before I exploded. Even if I had to call her in Mexico.

"You and Ken go. I promised the girls we could get together tonight after I got back from the bridal show. You don't mind, do you?"

She stared at me for a minute, like she was trying to determine if I was feeling all right. "No. Not at all. Of course your friends from home want to see you. Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said, with that same note of false brightness in my voice.

But later, after Mom and Ken left, I sneaked back to her room and found her photo alb.u.m. Yes, snooping was despicable business. But I had to know what was in that letter. Had to make sure I wasn't imagining things. I grabbed the alb.u.m.

The picture of Mom and Dad was there where she'd stuffed it between the pages. But the letter from Rick Butler was not, no matter how many times I shuffled through the pages.

It was pretty clear Mom didn't want me, or anyone, to see that letter. I could have turned her room upside down looking for it. But she could have hidden it anywhere. Or even destroyed it. I'd reached a dead end.

"Rick Butler, d.a.m.n you," I whispered. "Did you break my mom's heart? What kind of a douchebag are you?"

I s.h.i.+vered, full of dread about going to Chelan. Yet I had to know. I had to meet this man that I suddenly hated on principle. I could find an excuse not to go. But that would hurt Seth. And damage our relations.h.i.+p. Morbid curiosity combined with irresistible pa.s.sion was a potent force driving me toward some inevitable fate.

But before anything else, I had to talk to Olivia.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. But it felt like the house had ears and anything I said here would be held against me and reported to Mom. So I went to the coffee shop on the corner and called Olivia.

She listened while I told her the whole story. And had the good sense not to tell me I had an overactive imagination.

"You love Seth, right?" she said in her circ.u.mspect, intellectual, I'm-your-friend-and-I'm-right-about-this voice.

"Yes, of course."

"Then you have to go. You don't know what happened all those years ago. Rick Butler may not be the douche you think he is. But the point is, you can't ask your mom what happened without blowing your family apart. Like she'd tell you the truth, anyway. I mean, what if she destroyed that letter?"

"Yeah, I know." I nodded my agreement, even though we weren't Facetiming and she couldn't see me. "She certainly hid it from me."

"So you need to find out from Rick what happened. While not tipping Seth off. Until you can figure things out."

"Oh, great," I said. "Nothing like asking the impossible."

On Friday morning, I hugged Mom, jumped in my car, and headed to Seth's two hundred miles and four hours away. Fortunately, the two mountain pa.s.ses I had to drive over were all clear and the roads good.

I had those four hours to think. My mind wandered toward worst-case scenarios and a complete family meltdown. Even the music I blasted didn't drown it out.

I had never been to Chelan before. It was a quaint tourist town on the lake. I stopped to gas up and get last-minute directions and texted Seth that I was minutes away. Just outside of town toward Wapato, the hills around were more arid-looking but still dotted with green.

Vineyards on the hills were coming to life with budding leaves. The lake below was a deep blue. The scenery spectacular. It was easy to see why Rick Butler loved it enough to move here. Though I considered Seattle pretty awesome and beautiful.

The Butlers lived in a house on acreage on the edge of the vineyard. Land in the Chelan area was expensive, and Rick Butler owned a lot of it.

I followed the GPS on my phone through twisting country roads, up a hill, through a wrought iron gate past a sign welcoming me to the winery and listing the tasting hours. Past the winery and tasting room, a heavy, cla.s.sic building sat on the edge of the hill with balconies jutting out over the hillside, facing the lake below and a view east to the surrounding hills. Up a private drive through fields of grapevines.

As I turned the last corner, a large, modern, villa-style house with windows and balconies galore came into view. My heart pounded into overdrive.

Seth waited for me on the front porch.

I had a vision of his father, old and paunchy. Gray. A worn-out, sagging version of Ian. I thought I'd find some satisfaction in that. That Mom remained pretty and young-looking while Rick Butler had aged terribly. That she would be way out of his league now.

But then, I thought of Ian or Seth in thirty years, aging badly, no longer hot and handsome. The vengeful thought became a lot less satisfying.

Seth bounded down the steps as I pulled to a stop in the circular driveway. Mom lived in a nice, middle-cla.s.s house. Dad had left her enough insurance money to keep her comfortably middle cla.s.s. But Rick lived in splendor. The house was obviously high end and professionally landscaped.

Which peeved me even more. How could he make his son work in that horrid Double Deltsie house when paying for his education would have been like handing out pennies?

Seth was at my car door, opening it for me before I could unbuckle my seatbelt. He was beaming. The look on his face totally priceless as he pulled me from the car and into his arms.

"I've missed you, Mads." He pressed me close and kissed me, a quick, ardent kiss where his tongue slid into my mouth, tantalizing me until I trembled.

"I can't wait to show you around." He let go of me and grabbed my hand. "Dad is eager to meet you."

As we turned toward the house, a man came out the front door. My heart did a major thud and skidded to a stop. Our eyes met. Time stood still.

He paled. I swear he did. Like he was seeing a ghost.

I was, too. Seeing a ghost, I mean. A ghost of things past and future.

"Dad." Seth pulled me by the hand toward the man. "This is Maddie."

"The infamous Maddie." His voice was warm and deep, like honey in the sun. He recovered quickly and put on a welcoming smile that lit up his face as he extended his hands and took mine in both of his.

I knew what he'd seen in me-Mom. Little Laura, as my grandpa used to jokingly call me. And it had stunned him. If I'd needed any more confirmation our parents knew each other, I certainly had it now.

My forced smile wobbled as I looked into his eyes. I had the feeling he was a.s.sessing me as much as I was him. It was natural he would size up his son's girlfriend. But this was more. I tried to guess what his stunned reaction meant. How had he felt about Mom? He obviously remembered her. Good? Bad?

His hands were warm. His grip firm. "Welcome."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Butler." In so many ways. And in others, it was a complete lie. Life would have been so much simpler if I hadn't.

"Please. Call me Rick. Mr. Butler is my granddad, not me."

Such simple, ordinary words. So much charisma. In his voice. In the way he held my hand. In his smile and even in his very demeanor. Some people just have it, that special magnetism. Successful politicians. Rock stars. And Rick Butler.

With his money and confidence, he would have been alluring even if he had gone to seed. But he hadn't. The man who could very well be my brother's father was tall, toned, and fit. Younger-looking than his true age by at least ten years, just like Mom. Her equal.

Looking at him, I was both entranced and filled with bitterness. There was no way a young Mom could have resisted him. My stomach burned with the very real fear that he'd charmed her into his bed, gotten her pregnant, and abandoned her. And that those events, thirty-five years ago, were going to ruin my life now.

This man was my boyfriend's father. And possibly my brother's. Life was such a mess.

Chapter 14.

Seth I didn't understand Dad. He couldn't keep his eyes off Maddie. Yeah, she was hot. But I didn't need Dad looking at her like he thought so, too. And flirting with her. He talked and joked with her as I got her bag from her car and carried it into the house. He kept talking while I was trying to excuse Maddie and me and show her to her room. And show her how much I'd missed her.

What was wrong with the old man? He'd never acted like this with the girls I dated in high school.

And Maddie? She stared back at him, not exactly sure about him, clinging tightly to my hand as I carried her suitcase upstairs to her room.

"Your dad is-"

"Making a fool of himself." I set her suitcase at the foot of the bed.

She laughed. "I was going to say charming."

"When he wants to be." I paused. "Don't let him scare you off."

He'd already won her over.

She smiled and stepped into me, so close her b.r.e.a.s.t.s brushed my chest. Go to h.e.l.l, Dad. This girl is mine.

"This is a gorgeous house." She looked up at me, moving her lips inches from mine. "I missed you so much."

I was hungry for her. Desperate. I kissed her and pressed her to me. She kissed me back with enough pa.s.sion to turn me to a hot burn and let me slide my hands beneath her blouse and play with her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Finally, she stepped away, breathless, and tucked my hands in front of me. Her eyes wide and a smile on her face. "I need to freshen up. Is there a bathroom in this place?"

"You have your own private bathroom." I pointed the way.

She smiled. "Meet you downstairs?"

"I was hoping we'd stay here."

She lifted one eyebrow. "With your dad downstairs?"

I sighed, resigned that she wanted to make a good impression. Good thing I had other plans for later, away from the house. "See you down there."

Dad sat in the living room staring into s.p.a.ce. He looked up briefly when I walked in.

"What's Maddie's last name again?"

"Foster."

He nodded absentmindedly, like he was deep in thought. "Foster, Foster, Foster...Foster." He frowned like he'd remembered something unpleasant and unthinkable. He muttered to himself before looking at me again. "She's a gorgeous girl."

I nodded. "Duh! What did you expect? Your son has excellent taste."

I expected him to laugh or joke or tease me about it.

Instead, he nodded. "Very pretty. And sweet. Intelligent."

"And mine," I said.

He looked startled, like I'd misinterpreted his interest in her. But d.a.m.n it, Dad had never flirted with my dates before. Maddie was different. Special. What the h.e.l.l was he doing?

Maddie cleared her throat behind me. I practically jumped. How much had she heard?

She came up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder, facing Dad.

"Am I interrupting?" Her voice was soft and concerned.

Dad's eyes lit up.

I pulled her even with me.

"No. Of course not." Dad didn't look the slightest bit rattled. But he studied her closely. "I was asking Seth the usual fatherly questions about you." He smiled, putting on the charm for her.

Then Dad did something he rarely did. He hesitated. Like he was nervous. What the h.e.l.l?

"You remind me of someone, Maddie." He s.h.i.+fted in his chair, another sign of nerves.

I slid my arm around Maddie and felt her stiffen.

"Oh?" She sounded almost too casual, like she'd almost been expecting this question. And was not at all surprised, just leery. "I get told that a lot." She glanced up at me. "I must have a common look."