A Wicked Kiss by M. S. Parker Read Free Book Online Page B

my chest to keep myself from slapping my brother. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Jasper and I care about each other. It’s called a relationship, Mitchell.”
    His eyes flashed. “You can’t be serious. Him ? Allen’s only been gone for four months. What’s gotten into you?”
    I took a slow breath and then let it out just as slowly. “I’m an adult, Mitchell. I know you care about me, but I’m twenty-six years-old and have been on my own since I left for college. I’m a widow, not some naïve little college girl about to go off on her own for the first time.”
    “You’ll always be my little sister,” he said gruffly.
    “I know.” My voice softened. “But it’s my life. My choice.”
    I went downstairs without waiting for a response. I tossed my dirty clothes into the basket near the washer and then went back into the living room. Mitchell was still there, scowling, but at least he didn’t argue when I walked in. I picked up the mail sitting on the table and began to go through it, wanting to give Mitchell the chance to finish absorbing what I’d said before I spoke to him again.
    I immediately tensed as I saw the envelope. Blank except for my name. This time, my first name was also included. My fingers were shaking so badly that I could barely tear the flap open.
    It wasn’t a letter this time. It was a picture.
    “Shae, what’s wrong?”
    Mitchell’s voice sounded like it was coming from a far-off distance.
    I couldn’t stop staring at the picture. It was Allen in a UCLA sweatshirt. He was young, his face youthful and smiling. Tawny hair, hazel eyes. Strong jaw. Nose that was a bit too long. It was Allen. My Allen.
    Except I wasn’t the woman standing next to him. No, I amended, a girl, not a woman. She might’ve been eighteen or nineteen, but she had the kind of build and features that would have people thinking of her as a girl for years to come. Her eyes were a dark brown, her hair long and curly, the color of cocoa. She was tiny, barely coming to Allen’s shoulder.
    His arm was around her in a possessive gesture I recognized all too well.
    I flipped the picture over, but there wasn’t anything written on it. No note in the envelope. Only the picture of my late husband and some woman I’d never seen before.
    Who was she? Why had I been sent her picture?
    A thousand things flew through my mine, but before I could get a grip on any of them, someone knocked on the door.
    I walked over and opened it to find Jasper standing there, my purse in his hand. I hadn’t even realized I’d left it. He took one look at my face and his expression darkened.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Don’t worry about it, Whitehall,” Mitchell growled from over my shoulder. “I can take care of my sister.”
    Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean take care of her?” He looked at me. “Shae, what’s going on? Why is Mitchell here? And why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”
    I barked out a nervous laugh. A ghost. Yeah, that was pretty close to the truth. I held out the picture.
    “Shae,” Mitchell warned.
    “Didn’t you say you had somewhere you were supposed to be today?” I asked, shooting my brother a sharp glance.
    He glared at me and then at Jasper before turning back to me again. “I do.” He stomped past us both and climbed into his truck, peeling out of the driveway.
    “What’s going on, Shae?” Jasper glanced down at the picture. “Why do you have a picture of Aime Vargas?”
    Oh. She had a name. Of course she did.
    I walked over to the porch swing and sunk down on it. “Who is she?” I asked.
    Jasper came over and sat next to me. “She and Allen dated during his junior year of college and he broke it off at the end of the year. She didn’t come back to UCLA the next year. Where did you get this?”
    “In the mail,” I said, holding up the envelope.
    “I don’t understand.”
    I nodded. “I know you don’t.” After taking a moment to collect myself, I