Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

Her own heart started to hammer as she recalled promising David earlier in the week that she’d go golfing this morning. Even after their “bad conversation” last night-David had once said he didn’t believe in arguments-he was here like clockwork to carry out the preordained schedule.

Nice. Consistent. Reliable. Just what she’d always wanted.

And what she so didn’t need right now.

“Iris? Are you there?” David’s voice carried through the keyhole. Of course, he wouldn’t want to disturb the neighbors, wouldn’t want to make a scene.

“Just a second.” She checked the robe again to be sure she was mostly covered, then turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

The planes of David’s face relaxed into that news-anchor smile he had down pat. “Look at you. You overslept, didn’t you?” He bussed her on the cheek as he strode into the room, looking as poised and polished as a model for some pro shop.

“Yeah.” Her voice still felt scratchy with fatigue. She glanced toward her bedroom. She couldn’t get ready with Mickey in there, and besides, he’d said he needed her. “Look, David, I’m sorry, but I didn’t get much sleep-”

“That was at least partly my fault.” He came forward to grip her upper arms, not with Mickey’s forceful domination, but with gentle pressure that engendered trust. So perfectly David. “I’m sorry, Iris. I was thoughtless and selfish, and you deserve so much better.” He leaned forward to kiss her.

She twisted her head slightly so his lips pecked her cheek.

David pulled back. His lips formed an uncharacteristic frown beneath his serious eyes and knit brows. “You’re not still angry with me, are you?”

“No.” She smiled to reassure him. She wasn’t angry, just preoccupied thinking up plausible explanations for the man in her bedroom.

“Good, because I’ve been thinking. You know I’m not crazy about your dad, but I’d like to meet your sisters, maybe take them to dinner. I mean, if you think you plan to get to know them.” He sniffed the air. “Mmm, coffee smells great.” He headed into the kitchen, where he poured himself a cup.

“Well, actually, they were over here last night for a while.” Iris stole a glance at her bedroom door.

“So you’re already getting to know them. Good. We’ll need to vet them, you know.”

“Vet them?”

“For the campaign. The press will be digging all through your family once we formally announce our engagement. Your father will be enough of a challenge.” He sipped some coffee and ran his tongue along his lips. “Mmm, this is the best cup of coffee you’ve ever made. Have you been practicing?”

While David was perfect in so many ways, there was one little wrinkle-he didn’t care for her cooking. She inhaled the aroma from her cooling cup and had to admit that Mickey made a good cup of joe.

“So, your sisters, they won’t be any sort of liability to us, will they?”

Interpreting “us” as David’s campaign, she gritted her teeth against any caustic retort. She barely knew those women, why let them start an argument between her and her fiancé? She wouldn’t. Nothing would spoil this Sunday morning.

From the master bathroom, her shower began to blast water.

Iris closed her eyes. Mickey Kincaid better drown himself, because-gun or no-she was about to murder him.

“Iris, is someone else here?” David asked.

Nothing to do but brazen it out. Opening her eyes, she said brightly, “Oh, I forgot to mention…I mean, that’s why I got so little-” No, she shouldn’t say that. She didn’t know what to say.

Frowning at her sudden tongue-tied state, David set down his coffee and marched toward the bedroom. He turned the knob slowly, then pushed open the door.

Iris winced, waiting for Mickey to jump out with gun drawn.

But the room looked pristine. Her bed was made, and last night’s clothes-the ones she’d peeled onto the floor with as much thought as a snake sheds skin-were nowhere to be seen. On her closet doorknob hung one of her business suits, she suspected as a signal to her.

“David, everything is fine, but maybe it’s best if you played without me today.”

Surveying the neat room, his gaze flitted around until it came to rest on the bathroom door. He shook his head. “Aww, no. It’s him, isn’t it?”

“Who?” she said, stalling.

“Cosmo.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I’m running for public office, and you’re harboring a fugitive from the law. Well, it’s wrong, Iris. I know you mean well. I know he’s your father, but he’s going to get you into all sorts of trouble if you’re not careful.”

Iris nodded, biting her lip.

“I think it’s best if he gives himself up, don’t you?” He raised a brow at her.

“Well, I’m not-”

David didn’t wait for an answer but flung open the bathroom door.

“Hey! Easy there, tiger.” Steam billowed out of the tiled bath, but the glass door didn’t leave a lot to the imagination as Mickey swiped the water from his face.

Iris averted her eyes to the floor, though they had a tendency to move northward with no conscious thought.

“You!” David exclaimed.

“Oh, hey, Dave.” He waved nonchalantly, like he saw “Dave” in her bathroom every morning. He even shot “Dave” his swashbuckling grin.

David turned to her, as bewildered as any armadillo just before it was run down by a truck.

“You remember my cousin Mickey, don’t you, David?” she said weakly.

Behind him, her unwanted visitor grabbed a towel and began to dry himself.

“Good to see you again, Dave. You talk Rissie into golfing instead of working today?” Mickey was being infuriatingly affable. Even she wanted to slip into that shower and wring his…neck.

God, she was shameless. She deserved whatever accusations David was going to fling at her. She should have told him the truth about Mickey straight up.

David exited the bathroom, leaving her to make eye contact with her naked “cousin.” With an almost imperceptible nod, Mickey had her retreating in David’s wake.

“I know I should have mentioned that he needed a place to crash-”

“Your sisters were here, too, last night?”

“Yes.” She was grateful to be able to say it honestly. “For a while.” She held her breath.

David took in the perfectly made bed, her clean floor, her clothes hanging for work-all the signs of her orderly life. Slowly, his shoulders dropped to a more natural angle. “And your father hasn’t been here?”

“Cosmo? Oh, no. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Although she was beginning to wonder if David was blind, worrying more about her aging father than about the virile man in her shower.

Mickey chose that moment to stride into their conversation, the damp towel wrapped around his waist. He smelled of soap and humidity, his wet hair curling around his ears in the most intriguing way. But it was the defined arms and chest, the way his ribs tapered to a tight six-pack with the knotted towel riding low on his hips, that had her all but salivating.

Her perfect engagement was about to go up in flames, and she was fantasizing about a two-bit jewel thief. She needed to have her head examined.

“Rissie, thanks for the shower, sweetheart. After camping for the past few days, I really needed a soak in some hot water.”

David stared the other man down.

“No problem, Mickey. Just let me know the next time you plan to do a camping trek this way.” Hell, now she was lying right along with him.

David turned on her, no longer bewildered. In fact, she almost felt for a pulse. “Iris, I’m going to the club. I take it you have to work today?”

Behind him, Mickey nodded emphatically.

She spread her hands. “Yes. There were so many interruptions yesterday-”