I set down the menu. “What is it?”

Again with the secret sisterhood of exchanged glances, then, Lizzy: “We need to talk.”

“Drinks first!” Hanna protests.

Maggie nods. “Hanna’s right. This calls for vodka.”

So I sit there with anxiety tearing up my stomach as we wait for our drinks to arrive—Grey Goose with olives for Maggie, chocolate for the twins, and a vodka tonic for me.

“Enough with the suspense,” I say after we get rid of the waitress. “What’s up?”

“There are some rumors,” Hanna hedges.

“And we think you should know about them,” Lizzy finishes.

I smile but I don’t need a mirror to know it’s shaky and doesn’t reach my eyes. The PI. Whoever he was working for has told everyone the truth about me. I was hoping it wouldn’t get around until after I left. I wince, thinking of my sisters. No. I was hoping it would never get around. “What is it?”

Again, the girls exchange looks. Lizzy clears her throat. “Meredith is pregnant.”

“Everyone is saying it’s Will’s,” Hanna continues, “and…the timing is right.”

I take a swig of my drink. “Pregnant,” I murmur. Holy shit. No wonder she wants me to leave town.

“She’s not coming out and saying that it’s his.” Lizzy puts her hand on mine.

“But she’s not denying it either,” Hanna adds.

“People are starting to whisper about you,” Lizzy admits. “They’re calling you a home wrecker.”

“Because apparently men in this town aren’t responsible for their own dicks,” Maggie mutters.

“We’re telling them what’s what,” Hanna assures me. “Despite how she likes to spin it, Will and Meredith were not an item when you got to town.”

“We don’t think Will knows,” Lizzy says softly. “But we think you should tell him before she does.”

Maggie clears her throat. “Ladies, would you let me and Cally speak privately for a minute?”

The twins scoot out of the booth, leaving me and Maggie alone.

“Listen,” Maggie begins, “I like you, and I like how happy Will is when he’s with you, so I’ll tell you something I wouldn’t tell anyone else. There’s no way that baby is Will’s.”

My mouth is dry, and I down half of what’s left in one gulp. “I’m pretty sure they slept together,” I say. “Even assuming they used protection, nothing is one-hundred-percent effective.” What was it Maggie said after I first moved back? That all Will wanted was to get married and have a family? If I hadn’t shown up, would he and Meredith be happily pursuing that dream by now?

She gives me a sad smile and drops her eyes to her drink. “Would you just trust me on this one? Meredith may be pregnant, but it is not his baby.”

Slowly, I nod. I’m sure she’s trying to reassure me because she sees the panic on my face. But she doesn’t understand that I can’t give William what Meredith can. And I love him enough to let him have with her what he can’t have with me.

“Would you excuse me for a minute?” I push out of the booth before she can answer. Suddenly it’s too hot in here and I need some fresh air. I don’t make it to the door before someone grabs my arm.

When I look up, Meredith’s eyes are boring into mine. “Look who’s here.”

I step back. Shit. I don’t want to face her tonight. “Hey, Meredith.”

I try to side step her, but she holds on tight. “I had an interesting chat with Carl York today.” She actually smiles, as if what Carl told her about me is the best possible news. “I wonder how much William knows about your escapades as a call girl back in Vegas.”

I stumble backward and my feet tangle under me as my back hits a tray. The next thing I know, glass is shattering and I’m soaked with beer. The smell is more that my stomach can handle but I force myself to take slow, steady breaths.

“I’m so sorry,” I say to the waitress, who is also soaked, eyes wide in horror.

“It’s okay,” she mumbles, dropping to her haunches to pick up shards of glass.

Meredith shakes her head slowly. “Some people cause you nothing but trouble.”

I’m stuck in place and before I can unfreeze myself, Lizzy rushes over and grabs towels off the bar. “Let me help you with that.” She flashes me a worried look before dropping to her haunches.

“My offer still stands,” Meredith says, and then she turns and leaves.

As I busy myself with helping the girls clean up the mess, my stomach surges into my throat at the thought of that bitch living the life I want. A life with William. His babies in her belly. I’ll get out of the way and let Will make his choice, but now I know I can’t take her money. Because I’m not for sale anymore.

I make excuses to leave early, but Maggie follows me outside. She takes me by the shoulders, determination gleaming in her eyes. “It’s not whether or not you make the mistake. It’s how you handle it.”

“I—”

She squeezes my shoulders. “Do you understand?”

I blink at her and realize she heard Meredith. Maggie knows. “I can’t fix that,” I whisper, and to my horror, tears are spilling down my cheeks. “I can’t change what I did.”

“You explain what happened. You tell him the truth. You’d be amazed what William Bailey can forgive.”

“HEY THERE, Bailey, Carl York here. You’re one difficult man to get ahold of!”

I frown into my cell phone. I’ve been sending his calls to voicemail, trying to forget I hired him. Carl doesn’t seem to want me to forget. “What’s up, Carl?”

“I got that information you wanted. About that Brandon McHugh guy.” He whistles, long and low. “It’s a good ’un too.”

“I don’t need it anymore.” Anything I need to know about Cally’s ex, she can tell me.

“Oh boy, you want to know this. Trust me.”

I close my eyes and rub my temple. The gallery is closed for the night, and I’m alone in my office preparing the last minute details for this weekend’s exhibition opening. I don’t want to deal with Carl. I want to go find Cally and take her home to my bed.

“Listen,” Carl says, “it’s up to you, but you already paid me. Might as well get what you paid for, right? You don’t have to decide now. I’ll put it in the mail so you’ll have it all. I gave you an extra piece in there too—did a little digging on Cally Fisher. I was curious, so it’s on the house. In the meantime? I wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole….” He chuckles. “If you know what I’m saying. I know I won’t be getting any ‘massages’ from her again, that’s for sure.”

I can practically hear his air quotes around the word massages. Fucker. I hang up before he can say more.

My dad is going to have to face losing the house. My little run-in with Meredith tonight made that clear to me. The reality of the situation sucks, but I don’t see an alternative. The truth is, I won’t be around to bail Dad out, and he needs to learn to make better decisions.

When I pull up to the cabin, my heart drops like a thousand shards of glass into my already aching stomach.

Brandon McHugh is leaning against a black SUV. His long legs are crossed at the ankle as he flashes that charming smile in Drew’s direction.

The way he’s looking at her makes me want to cut off his balls with a rusty razorblade.

I hurry out of my car. “Drew, go inside and set the table for dinner.”

Drew scowls. “I’m not hurting anything.”

“Go!” I order.

He watches her run into the house. My fifteen-year-old sister. And all at once, I both wish I had a gun and am glad I don’t. He turns his attention back to me and shakes his head slowly at my jeans and T-shirt. “Cally baby, I hate seeing you dressed like that.”

“You’re early,” I say softly. “We said two months.”

“I have business in Indianapolis and Chicago, so it appears your time’s up. Your sisters are settled, and I’m done waiting.”

There’s no use arguing. I knew this could happen. “Okay.” I look over my shoulder to make sure the girls aren’t around to hear. “When do we go?”

His jaw tightens. “I have business to attend to. I’ll come for you tomorrow night. But buy some new f**king clothes before then.” He sneers. “I can’t look at you in that shit. You look old.”

I force a smile. “Of course.”

“You should bring your sisters with you. They’re cute. I’ll take good care of them.”

My stomach pitches. “Not an option,” I say steadily. “Dad has legal custody.”

He grins. “Drew likes me.”

“I have to get their dinner ready.” And buy a gun. I really have to buy a gun.

Seven Years Ago

The moonlight calls my name through the bedroom window, and the stars wink at me from the dark midnight sky. Stardust kisses my fingertips. My wishes float in the air like dandelion fluff, waiting for me to catch them. I try to concentrate, to focus so I can stretch to take one into the palm of my hand.

He stops me before I can grab the wish. His hand on my arm, his erection at my back.

His mouth is hot on my ear, and I think of William in a tuxedo. Good, beautiful William, waiting for me to get off the plane so he can take me to prom.

I lost my virginity tonight, just like William and I planned. I wore a beautiful dress that clung to my curves. Sipped wine through the dinner at a fancy restaurant. Danced. An evening orchestrated for perfection. So much just as we planned, and nothing as we planned.

Goosebumps race across my bare skin as his fingers skate up the back of my spine.

“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I would have paid anything to have you.” Fantasy mingles with reality. His words are hot against my neck, and I close my eyes and imagine William is holding me, speaking to me. The way it was supposed to be. The drugs make that easier than it should be, but I hide inside the fantasy of me and William as this man slides his hand between my legs. I imagine William is holding me after prom, seducing me with his fingers until neither of us can resist, imagine it’s William preparing to slide into me again.

“William,” I murmur.

The man flips me to my back—suddenly, painfully, violently. He pins my hands on either side of my head, squeezing. “What did you call me?”

I blink up at him, and my fantasy skitters away into the night.

“What’s my name, sweetheart?” The man over me demands. “Tell me my name.”

I try to catch my breath, reorient myself. I lock my gaze to the piercing hazel eyes of the man who bought and paid for the right to my body. The man who owns me now.

“Say it.”

“Brandon,” I whisper. “Brandon.”

Present Day

Brandon McHugh is outside Arlen Fisher’s cabin, leaning against a gleaming black Cadillac Escalade, smoking a cigarette. He gives me a disinterested once-over as I swing my leg off my bike.

I went to The Wire to track down Cally after Carl York’s call, but the girls told me she went home. Idiot that I am, I assumed that meant my house, but she wasn’t there.

“Can I help you?” Brandon asks.

“I’m here for Cally.”

“She’s not available right now. Want me to tell her you stopped by?”

Her car is parked right in front of me, but I’m not going to argue. I shove my hands into my pockets and glare at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Me? I’m her boyfriend.”

He inclines his chin. “Hmm. That’s funny, because when Cally and I made plans for her to move back to Vegas with me, she didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

His words are a punch in the gut, and I have to hold strong against my instinct to stagger back. “I’m sure there’s a lot she hasn’t told you.”

“Oh, hell.” He chuckles. “I’m such a fan of irony.”

I want to knock that grin right off his face. “Where is she?”

He grunts, then cocks his head. “You’re not f**king my girl, are you?”

“If you have to ask, is she really your girl? Why don’t you get out of here? If she wanted to be with you, she’d be living in Vegas.”

He laughs again. “My wife and I were just figuring out the details of her return.”

Wife. The word slams into me, and I spin on him, nails biting into the flesh of my palms. “Excuse me?”

“Cally’s little sisters showed me everything you fixed up for their daddy inside, not to mention the outside. Well done. Can’t say I blame you. But she’s good. You have to give her that. Not even a couple of weeks away from having me to take care of her, she found you. I guess she knows what men will do for a taste of that pussy.”

I don’t even make the decision before my arm is swinging. And soon I’m nothing but my anger and my fists and the sharp pain radiating from where his fist connects with my jaw. His fists land twice—a wrecking ball into my cheek and nose—before I manage a solid swing at his jaw. Then I lose track of where I’ve been hit and the number of punches we’ve thrown. All I care about is bringing this as**ole down, and we’re wrapped up in each other, still going hard, when someone pulls me off him.

I’m breathing hard and my vision’s blurry. My face feels wet, and I wipe my nose and find my hand covered with blood.