Page 39 of Barbed Wire and Burglary
His brain hurt.
His chest ached.
His heart pounded.
Topping the razor-sharp pinnacle of her betrayal was the realization of just how wrong he’d been about her brother. If Aaron hadn’t been moving around the country to steal jewelry, he’d been doing it to protect his sister and the mission of Diamondback Corporation. And it had nearly cost him his life. Twice!
A.J. pivoted back in the guy’s direction, knowing he owed him a mountain of apologies, but no words came. Never before had he been so wrong about a person. Never before had his suspicions and preliminary conclusions been so off-track. It was the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
To Aaron’s credit, there wasn’t even a hint of triumph in his gaze. No gloating. Nothing but concern. “Why don’t you go talk to her while I wrap things up here?”
A.J. nodded dazedly, finally understanding how committed Aaron was to the pursuit of justice. He should’ve been in bed. Instead, he was bagging evidence and preparing to chase down their next lead. It was a solitary life, staying on the move the way he did. He’d never win anylongevity or popularity awards. Even so, he was the walking, breathing definition of a real hero.
A.J. cleared his throat. There was so much he wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time. “Call me when you’re ready to head back. I’ll come pick you up.”
Aaron waved away his offer. “Nah, I’ll hitch a ride with the sheriff. Just…” He circled a finger in the air, making the rally sign.
Right.“I’m going.” A.J. jogged to his pickup and drove to his apartment, feeling like the weight of the universe was on his shoulders. He had no inkling what he was going to say when he next laid eyes on Aurora.
She was beautiful and clever, and her acting skills were worthy of an Oscar.
She sure had me fooled.
The hardest part about their coming confrontation was not knowing what her duplicity meant for their relationship. Did she truly care for him, or had that all been an act, too? No, that wasn’t even the hardest part. The hardest part was knowing that he’d completely fallen for her, lies and all. He could only hope he hadn’t fallen for a woman who didn’t really exist.
He reached the massive white two-story on the lake with its four-car garage that his apartment rested on. Parking and jumping to the ground, he jogged up the stairs, pausing only when he reached the door.
Unsure what he was about to step into, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The first thing that met him was sublime warmth billowing from the heater vents on either side of the faux fireplace in the living room. Normally, A.J. was more accustomed to returning to a cold apartment. The second thingthat met him was the scent of coffee. The woman he so desperately needed to speak with was seated on the sofa.
Waiting.
Ready.
Someone had told her he was coming. Probably Aaron.
She stood and faced him.
Though his heart ached from her betrayal, she was still beautiful to him. She would always be beautiful to him, even when she wasn’t trying to be. Her white peasant blouse and faded jeans encased her slender figure to perfection, and her long blonde hair tumbled past her waistline, practically begging for him to run his fingers through it.
“Please.” She was the first to speak. “Don’t look at me like that.” Her voice shook. “I can’t bear it.”
He folded his arms, no more able to help the way he was looking at her than he could prevent the sun from rising or setting. He was too busy trying to figure out what was left of their relationship…if anything. It felt like his whole life depended on finding out.
She stepped closer to him. “Before you sentence me to hang, at least acknowledge that I haven’t been the only one lying.”
“Omitting,” he corrected mechanically. “I never lied to you and I never will. I just didn’t tell you everything.” There was a huge difference between fabricating stories and protecting someone he cared for from the full truth.
“Okay, fine. I lied to you if that’s what you want to call it.” She paused in front of him, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm.
It took a superhuman effort not to flinch. Or reach back. Or fall to his knees and beg her to keep loving him.
“What else would you call it?” His words came out so hoarse. He sounded nothing like himself.
“A cover story,” she supplied flatly. “Believe it or not, it has less to do with fooling anyone and more to do with keeping me alive.”
Though her words gave him hope, he was nowhere near satisfied. “When were you going to tell me?” He grated out the question.
