Page 127 of Nothing to Fear

And she couldn’t even unload on anyone. Get out all the tension and stupidity and emotion. Yvette had enough on her plate, and what would she say anyway? How could she explain her reasons without admitting her shame? Her association with Darroch had been private. What would be the point of admitting it now it was over?

No, she wouldn’t dwell on it. Over meant over. New chapter time. Time for something completely different.

Someone knocked on the front door. Who’d be visiting? Doubt a job just sauntered up to say hello and offer itself to her. If only.

She went down the stairs and checked the peephole. Darroch wouldn’t—

She stepped back.

Was that really?

No.

Sliding back one lock while turning the other, belief didn’t kick in even with her eyes on the guest.

“Roxanna Kyst?”

The woman held two bottles aloft. “I brought wine.”

Stepping aside when the woman strode on in, the guy on the threshold, the tall, built, gorgeous man on her threshold, took it upon himself to lean in and close the door.

“How bad is it?” Roxie called from upstairs. “Do we need glasses or are we chugging straight from the bottle? I have Astrid on standby if we need anything stronger.”

Getting with it, she hurried up the stairs. Roxie had already kicked off her shoes and taken her hair down.

The corkscrew on the couch next to her looked like hers. Had Roxie…?

“So here’s the thing about Tripp Breckenridge…” Roxie twisted the corkscrew in. “He’s the catch-all brother. The one everyone else goes to with their oopsies.” She paused to show her a palm. “And that is not to minimize what happened. God, no. No way.” Straining, she held the bottle between her thighs and pulled at the impaled corkscrew. Except the cork stayed stuck. “Ballard!”

The scream was so loud, she ducked like it had physical mass. The downstairs door opened and the scowling door-closer came stomping up. Roxie, without seeing her rise, scampered across the room to meet him at the top.

“I swear to fucking God, Little Rox,” he murmured not so under his breath.

In a single pull, he freed the cork. Roxie grabbed his neck in one hand and the wine in the other, she pulled him down for a cheek kiss, then waved him away.

“I keep him on the reservation,” Roxie sang to Ballard as he glared to stamp on out and slam the door. “Makes his job easier, Ballard’s job. See once upon a time…” In a twirl, Roxie snagged her arm in hers to link them and continue to the couch. “Once upon a time, my guy could be all kinds of grumpy and erratic. He’d get stressed and need to disappear or be reckless with his safety.”

Arms still looped together, Roxie dropped to the couch, forcing her to sit too.

Her guy? “Zairn?”

Roxie tilted the bottle toward her. “Mm hmm.”

“I’ll get glasses.”

As much as to buy time than anything else. Leaping up, she hurried to the kitchen for a breather.

If Roxie knew, did everyone know? If they did, it would be from Darroch’s tongue, not hers. Who would share something so shameful? Someone proud of their achievement, that’s who.

So much for not a dare or a bet. Damn, talk about misjudging someone, or in this case, a whole family.

“Do you need some help?” Roxie called, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“No, I’m good.”

Just lost in her own kitchen.

“So when I got with my guy…” Roxie’s raised voice carried like they were next to each other. “He told the whole wide world, on international television, he was in love with me, and we were going to be together forever.”

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