Prohibited (Tulsa City Sinners #1)

37. Evie

Chapter thirty-seven

Evie

When Roberts walked into the room, Evie almost lost her nerve. There was something extraordinarily normal about seeing him. He had always been there in the background, hovering at her elbow at any social engagement where she ended up. He was one of her father’s favorites, lord knew why. One of his favorite people to have in his pocket so he could always have his ear to the ground.

She suspected that her father had used his influence to advance Roberts’ career quickly, though she could never have proved it.

As always, his physical presence did little to affect her. He wasn’t a bad looking man. He was handsome enough in an ordinary sort of way. But something about him had always turned her completely off of the idea of being with him romantically or sexually, no matter how many times he tried to maneuver her into a dark corner and begin to touch her in places he shouldn’t .

“Evelyn,” Roberts said, rushing toward her. He captured both of her arms above the elbows and gripped her tightly.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” he said. “Where in the hell have you been? I’ve been ripping apart this entire fucking town looking for you!”

“I just had to leave town for a while,” she said, doing her best to sound earnest. “I just had to clear my head for a while.”

“And you cut your fucking hair,” he said, staring at her incredulously.

“Don’t you like it?” she raised her hand instinctively. Normally, she wouldn’t give a damn what he thought of her, but she realized that he was the first person from her old life who was seeing her with the haircut and it suddenly made her feel vulnerable and self-conscious. The pain and the humiliation she felt while Alex hacked it from her head came over her in a brief, vivid wave.

“I mean– You look– You always look beautiful,” he said, impatiently. “But that’s not the point. Walter Stanley has been–”

Evie put her fingertips on his lips. “Shh,” she said, stepping in closer. “Aren’t you sweet, Lieutenant Roberts.” She lowered her voice to a coquettish whisper.

“Don’t you–” he said, but he seemed to forget what he was saying as she pressed the line of her body against his and stared up at him through her eyelashes, tilting her head in a way that she knew accentuated her face .

“You’re a real hero, you know that?” she murmured, draping her arms around his neck. “You did all that for me?”

“Well,” he stammered, his face turning a touch red. “It’s my job. And you know I worry about you, Evie. You haven’t been exactly– I mean, you’ve– I mean–” His voice lowered a touch. “What are you doing, taking up with characters like Walter Stanley?”

Evie paused and licked her lips in a way that she hoped was seductive while she thought of how the hell to answer that question in a way that would satisfy him.

She sighed and tried to look sad, blinking her eyes a few times to try to call up some tears.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, Roberts,” she said, softly. “I’ve been feeling so badly since the war.” Which wasn’t a lie. “Sometimes I just do crazy things. Things I don’t understand, myself.”

“I– I suppose I can understand that,” he said. His hands were on her waist now, settling cautiously as he looked down into her face. “But your father, Evelyn, he’s been beside himself. You couldn’t even tell him where you went? Your husband–”

“Oh, don’t talk about him,” she said with a pout.

“Why?” he said, narrowing his eyes at her, an eagerness entering into his expression. “Has he done something to you? Is that what this is about? Is that why you–”

“Marrying Linus was a mistake,” she said, softly. Also not a lie. It wasn’t that hard to get real tears to come to her eyes. “And that’s all I’ll say about that. ”

“Oh, Evelyn,” Roberts breathed. “I’ve– You don’t know how long I’ve–”

“I do know,” she said, feeling her stomach squirm a touch at how easy it was to get him to eat out of the palm of her hand. Guilt was settling heavily on her shoulder. But, she reminded herself, this man was in league with Walter Stanley. It slowly dawned on her that no one had ever been brought to justice for Tommy’s murder. And the reason for that was likely standing right in front of her.

She caressed his face, grimacing at the texture of his skin. It felt strangely rubbery and coarse with his beard starting to come back in, ready to be shaved again the next morning. He caught her hand and turned his head so he could kiss her palm.

She forced herself to breathe. If she had to fuck him, she would. But she had to proceed carefully. Had to draw him in carefully. Had to make him feel like he would be doing her a favor because she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“I’ve known you for so long,” she breathed against his cheek. The smell of his aftershave was foreign and sent her nerves scrambling in a way that was not pleasurable. “And you’ve always waited for me, so patiently.”

He smothered a groan. “Has it always been so obvious?”

The urge to laugh was so real that she had to bite her lip in a way she hoped was provocative to keep from laughing at him. Was he serious?

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she said. Their faces were so close that their noses were almost touching.

“Well,” a cold, familiar voice drawled behind them, turning her blood to ice. “Isn’t this sweet?”