Exposed by Deborah Bladon Read Free Book Online

vibrant, bouquet of dyed roses sits in a curved vase. Next to it are several framed photographs.
    "Thank you again for the beautiful flowers," I say as I search the pictures for his face. I settle on one of him when he was younger. He looks as though he's in his late teens. "Is that you?" I reach for the frame.
    "That's me," he says huskily. "That's Jax." He points to the other man in the picture.
    I pull the picture closer noting how similar Jax looks now to the boy staring back at me from the frame. "You two have been friends a long time." It's a statement, not a question.
    "We have." He reaches to touch the edge of the frame but I don't relinquish my hold.
    "Who is she?" I nod towards the woman in the center of the photograph. She's stunning. Her hair is a vibrant red, her eyes a molten blue. She's firmly got Hunter's hand grasped in her own.
    "Jax's cousin." The tension on the frame is more apparent. He's trying to pull it out of my grasp.
    "She's holding your hand." I note with a faint smile. I can sense from his reaction and his palpable desire to get the picture away from me that he's not that comfortable talking about her.
    "We dated briefly." He yanks the picture from my grip now. "It was a long time ago."
    "She's really beautiful," I offer. It's obvious that this woman meant something to him judging by his reaction. "Did you meet her through Jax?"
    "I knew her first." He stares at the picture that is now in his lap.
    "What's her name?" My curiosity combined with the wine is making it easier to ask questions I normally wouldn't.
    "Coralie." His voice breaks as he says it. "Coral."
    "That's so pretty." I push myself away from the piano seat. "I need to use the washroom."
    "Down the hall." He points past the kitchen. "It's the first door on your right."
    I walk swiftly towards the reprieve of the restroom. I can't believe that just happened. Why did I pick up that frame and ask so many questions? Why does a girl he dated when he was a teenager still cause that powerful of a reaction in him? Dammit. I wish I had brought my phone to the washroom with me so I could have texted Alexa.
    I take my time glaring at my image in the mirror before I return back to where Hunter is. He's staring out the bay window. I run my eyes across the top of the piano and notice immediately that the picture we were just looking at is now nowhere in sight.
    "I'm sorry," I mutter.
    He turns slowly to look at me, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "Sorry for?"
    "For asking about Coral?" I spit out.
    He cringes as I say her name. "It was so long ago. It feels like a lifetime ago. I was a kid."
    "It didn't end well, did it?" I want to show him that I'm mature enough to deal with a discussion about another woman. Obviously, there have been a lot of other women in his life.
    He brings his palms to his face, cradling his head briefly. "You could say that."
    "I'm sorry." I offer again.
    "Enough with the sorry this and sorry that, sunshine," he says it so effortlessly.  "Let's talk about you."
    "Me?" I giggle as he reaches to pull me closer, his hands circling my waist.
    "Who was your first love?" He kisses the tip of my nose as the question leaves his lips.
    I want to ask why he picked that particular question. Coral must have been his first love or he wouldn't be thinking about it. He has to be over her by now. He couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen-years-old in that picture.
    "That was Johnny McDunkin or McDougall. Something with a Mc." I laugh.
    A slow smile spreads across his handsome face. "He was that forgettable?"
    "We had a clandestine affair in a supply closet in middle school." I quip.
    "You had a what?" He pulls me closer to him now. I can feel the outline of his body pressed against mine.
    "We kissed and he touched my breast and then a teacher caught us." I snuggle my cheek into his chest. "It was all very scandalous."
    "Sadie Lockwood," he whispers as he pulls my chin up so our eyes meet. "The woman with the sordid past."
    I