Smolder (Georgia Smoke #6)

• Nine •

“I take it, you won’t believe that I came to charm you?”

Royal

It was slightly hard to breathe. I was sweating. As in my hands were so damp that it was hard to make notes. Every time I looked up and found Professor Brereton’s gaze pause on me, my heart rate sped up. He’d never paid much attention to anyone in this class. I always sat in the back, never asked questions, blended into the crowd. Today, he saw me and only me, it seemed.

By the time he dismissed the class, I felt slightly ill. I gathered my things, trying not to look in his direction, but I could feel his eyes boring into me.

He had been tipped off. Had I made someone mad? What was so different about today that he was suddenly very aware of me?

His monotone voice and apparent boredom with everyone had been working so well for me.

“Excuse me, Miss Shelton, is it?” he asked.

I felt the blood drain from my face. He knew my name. Which meant he knew I wasn’t on his class roll.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap . I needed to think fast. I had to come up with something.

He could find out about all the classes I attended. I needed the money I got for the papers, but this was also my way of getting educated, even without the degree to go with it. This was something I enjoyed. It helped with accepting that I couldn’t take the scholarships I’d been offered because the schools were too far away for me to live at home. Grams needed me. Leaving hadn’t been an option.

Straightening my shoulders and taking a deep, calming breath, I tried to regain my composure as I held my books to my chest and turned to look at Professor Brereton. He was in his late fifties, I’d guess, with silver hair that he kept neatly trimmed. He wasn’t unattractive, but he wasn’t necessarily attractive either. He just was.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, smiling as if I had no reason to be concerned. Possibly arrested. Could I be arrested for this? Was it illegal to do what I’d been doing? Sure, the papers for other students were bad, but not jail-time bad. I didn’t think. Why hadn’t I checked into that?

He crossed his arms over his chest. “It strikes me as odd that you are always here, in the back of the class, yet it’s been brought to my attention that you aren’t actually registered for this class. In fact, after some digging, I found you’re not even enrolled at Howison. Would you like to explain?”

I was going to vomit. Right here, on the floor at his feet. Then possibly faint while he called security to escort me off campus. Remaining calm was something I was typically good at. I had an excellent poker face, which was one of the reasons I was so good at it. But right now, that technique had left the building. I was in full panic mode. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I couldn’t get one single sound through the panic clenching my throat.

“Nothing to say?” he asked.

He raised both gray eyebrows at me. He had a mole over his left one. I wondered if he’d gotten that checked. It didn’t look good.

Why was I thinking about his mole?

I needed to say something. Get myself out of this mess. I had four hundred dollars’ worth of papers in my satchel that I had spent hours on. That was money I’d planned on using for the electric bill and part of the phone bill.

“I, uh …” The words came out in a stammer.

“Yes, I’d love to hear what you have to say about this and the fact that you are doing essays for students at a price. That makes this even worse. Don’t you think?”

Oh God. Oh God. How did he find out?

I needed a good lie—no, an exceptional one—but nothing was coming to me.

I heard the door to the room open, and I wasn’t sure if I should look. What if it was campus security—or worse the police?

I sucked in a breath, on the verge of tears.

“Professor, sorry to interrupt,” the deep, familiar drawl startled me.

I spun around to see Amory walking toward us.

What was he doing here? Was it him who had told on me? No, surely not. I mean, unless he’d been working undercover for the college. Did they have those here? Why would they? Why had I trusted this man?

His smile shifted to me. I held my breath, afraid of what was coming next. I’d trusted the wrong person. He knew too much. Was it because I had turned him down for a date? This was a little drastic of a response, if so. We’d been texting some. It had been friendly. What else had I told him?

“I’m handling a situation, Mr. …” Professor Brereton replied sharply.

He didn’t know Amory, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t the one who had ratted me out.

“Yes, I can see that. The problem, however, is, you’re holding up my friend who I’ve come to visit, and she has another class soon.”

Then, it wasn’t Amory who had told on me? Or was it?

I watched in confusion as he turned his attention back to the professor.

“Your friend, it seems, is in some trouble,” the professor began.

Amory shook his head. “No, I don’t think she is,” he replied.

“I’m sorry, but who are you, and why do you think you have the authority to waltz into my classroom and tell me what is or is not going on?” the professor snapped at him.

Although deodorant wasn’t my biggest issue right now, I hoped mine was equipped for this kind of sweating. If I didn’t have a full-blown panic attack in the next five seconds, it would be a miracle.

“Forgive me,” Amory replied. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Amory Blaine. I believe you’ve heard of my father, George.”

There was a polite arrogance in the gleam in his eyes as he stared down Professor Brereton. One that briefly distracted me from my building anxiety.

“I see,” the professor replied, sounding impressed.

I swung my gaze back to the professor, who now appeared to be nervous.

What was going on? How was the mention of Amory’s father causing Brereton to change so rapidly?

The professor cleared his throat. “I was unaware that Miss Shelton was a friend of your family.”

“Indeed, she is, and if you would be so kind as to”—he glanced at me with a smirk, then back at the professor— “forgive and forget whatever it is that has her so worked up, my family would appreciate it. I hate to see her upset like this, especially with another class to attend.”

If I had been speechless before, then I was full-on mute now. All I could do was stand there and watch in shock—or horror.

“Yes, of course,” Professor Brereton replied, taking a step back. “She is free to go.”

Wait. What?

I stared at him, waiting for him to say he was joking or pick up a phone to call security.

He glanced at me. “Excellent job on your paper,” he told me, although I hadn’t turned in a paper.

Two other students had turned in papers that I’d written for them, but my name wasn’t one either of them.

“Excellent,” Amory replied, and I looked back at him.

He held out his arm to me. “Ready?”

No. I was not ready. Professor Brereton knew what I had been doing. Walking out that door would not get me out of trouble. No, out there, I’d have to face it and deal with it.

Why he was letting me go with Amory, I didn’t understand, but I also knew Amory wouldn’t be here for the next class.

“I—he was—I mean, Professor Brereton was—” I was bumbling up my words, not sure what to say exactly, but knowing I had to say something.

“He was accusing you of not being enrolled here and doing other students’ papers for them,” Amory said as he held my gaze.

There was a twinkle of mischief in his eye, and once again, I wondered if he’d done this. Told on me. But why would he do that, then show up here, using his father’s name like a weapon? I didn’t understand.

“Yes.” My voice was just above a whisper.

Amory shifted his gaze back to the professor. “I’m sure Professor Brereton has forgotten all about that. Haven’t you?”

I watched as the professor nodded his head jerkily, his expression somewhat grim.

“Really?” I asked, not trusting that this was actually going to be dropped.

“Yes,” Professor Brereton replied. “You’re an excellent student, and your work is exceptional.”

“That sounds about right,” Amory replied. “If you want to get a milkshake—aka what you call a coffee—from the cart, we need to hurry up. Can’t be late for your next class.”

Perhaps it was shock or just sheer bewilderment, but I nodded my head. Amory waved a hand for me to walk in front of him, and my legs began moving, thankfully, as we headed for the door. I kept going, not stopping until we exited the building completely and were several feet from it.

Turning back around, I gawked at him. He just stood there, all relaxed, in his snug-fitting blue shirt that matched his eyes a little too well, faded jeans, brown leather belt, and boots.

“What was that?” I asked under my breath, not wanting anyone to hear us.

He leaned slightly closer to me. “It’s called saving your ass. At least, that is what most would consider it to be.”

I shook my head, and a short, unamused laugh fell from my lips. “That—how—I was—where did you come from? Were you the one who told? Why were you here?” My head was filled with a surge of questions and emotions. I didn’t know what to think or feel.

His dark brows drew together. “Me? You think I told someone? Why the fuck would I do that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. But you were right there. Barging in and scaring the man with the mention of your dad’s name—which, by the way, I’d also like an explanation for. None of what just happened makes sense.”

Amory reached for my books. “Here, let me carry these,” he replied, taking them from my arms. “Let’s walk so you can get your caffeine, and I’ll answer your accusatory questions—even though they sting.”

I pointed to the building behind him. “You were in there. What would you have me think? That you swooped in like Superman and saved me? Sorry, I’m not that naive.”

He chuckled. “No, you’re definitely not that. I take it, you won’t believe that I came to charm you? Waiting outside your class when you exited. Take you to get a coffee as I walked you to your next class.”

I shook my head. “Too much of a coincidence.”

He nodded toward the path. “I’ll talk as we head in the direction you need to be going. You’ll have to stop me when we reach your building though. I don’t know which one it is.”

He started to walk, and I fell into step behind him because he had my books. He was right; I didn’t need to be late. After what had just happened, walking into a class last would make me stand out. Although I wasn’t sure my heart could take another class today. I might need some time to accept that I wasn’t headed for jail after all.

“Truth is, I did come to charm you. You were on my mind all weekend, and I wasn’t ready to give up on getting you to agree to a date with me. I had it all planned out. Show up, perhaps make you laugh. Spend some time with you between classes. It was a well-laid-out attempt.

“But when you didn’t come out of the building when the class mass exited, I decided to see if you were inside. I thought perhaps I’d gotten your class wrong today. I parked a few cars over from your Vespa, so I knew you were here. When I reached the door, I looked in and saw the professor scowling at you with disapproval, and you were pale. I also knew the professor speaking to you when you weren’t a student enrolled in this college was bad.” He sighed, then paused to look down at me.

“My father is not only a Howison College alum, but it was also his endowment that built the football stadium. He golfs regularly with the president of the college. I’ll need to make a call to my father as soon as I get you to class and let him know what just happened so that he can help out and do some damage control, but his name was enough to shut down the professor from whatever he was about to do. Momentarily. He’ll hit a wall when he goes higher up with this, and that will be the end of it.”

It all sounded too easy. I didn’t trust easy.

“How can you be so sure? You think you can just call your dad and he’ll help me out? A girl who is sitting in classes here that she doesn’t pay for and doing assignments for other students at a price?” Saying it aloud made it sound even more unlikely. I was screwed.

“Technically, what you are doing is a self-audit. Many colleges even allow it. You might be sitting in them for free, but you aren’t getting a degree or credit for the courses. As for the work you are doing at a price, I’d call that using your skills, working with your strengths; it’s enterprising. My father respects an entrepreneur.”

I let out another laugh and shook my head. He was dead serious. There was no teasing laughter in his expression. He believed what he was saying. I, on the other hand, didn’t have as much faith in his father. That, and my heart rate still hadn’t returned to normal. I needed to go home and regroup. Decide how to proceed.

“If you are full of shit, then you are really good at the delivery,” I told him.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a crooked grin. “Thanks. I think. But I’m not full of shit. Just so we are clear.”

Whatever. My head was starting to hurt. I had to accept he’d been there at the right time and gotten me out of a bad situation even if it was temporarily.

“I’m not going to go to the next class. My head is pounding, my heart is still racing, and I need to think. Thanks for coming and for what you did back there. I can’t imagine I am worth the effort you are putting into trying to get me to go out with you. I must warn you that I’ll probably be a disappointment. Whatever you think about me is a lot less interesting than the reality. But you did save me, and I owe you one. So, text me later—tomorrow, whenever—and I’ll give you that date so you can see that chasing me isn’t worth your time.”

His smile deepened, and it was hard not to simply gaze at the man. He was gorgeous. Over six feet tall, muscular, broad shoulders, a square jawline that made his aristocratic features seem more masculine. Otherwise, he’d be entirely too pretty.

“Deal. I’ll walk with you to your Vespa,” he replied.

Since he was parked near me, there was no reason to argue with him about it. We were going in the same direction.

“Sure you don’t want that coffee milkshake thing you like to drink?”

I glanced up at him. “How do you know about that?”

He winked. “Stalker, remember?”

A laugh bubbled out of me, and the tension slowly eased. Maybe this wasn’t the end of my college career. He sure seemed to believe his dad would help me out with this. I was struggling with it, but then, with a father like the one I had, I didn’t have much faith in parental figures.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I stopped walking to pull it out. I’d put it on silent for class, but I had to keep it on me in case something happened with Grams. A number I didn’t recognize lit up the screen. That was never good.

“Hello?” I said into the phone, trying not to jump to the worst-case scenario.

Dad was home with Grams until I got back today. It was fine. She was okay.

“Is the Royal Shelton?” a man asked.

I tensed up, gripping the phone tightly. My eyes lifted to meet Amory’s.

“Yes,” I replied.

“This is Sergeant Phillips, down at the police station. One of my officers brought in your father, Vinson Shelton, about twenty minutes ago for driving with a suspended license. He asked that we call you. Your grandmother is home alone, and he is saying she has dementia. He is being, uh, rather difficult, or he’d have called you himself. There is a fine for him to be released if you want to come here and pay that.”

I was already walking toward the parking lot again, almost at a run. How long had Grams been home alone? When had he left her? Why had he been driving? I should have taken the car, not my Vespa. This was what I got for saving money on gas. Damn him.

“How much is it?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t said anything.

“It’s one thousand for this offense. The next time, it will be higher with jail time included.”

Shit! We didn’t have that kind of money to blow on this right now. Bills were coming due. I had enough to cover them all, but not that much left over.

“Okay, he’ll have to stay there for the time being. I need to get to my Grams. I’ll figure something out,” I told him as my Vespa came into view.

“Yes, ma’am,” the officer replied.

I ended the call, shoving my phone into my pocket, then glanced over to see Amory was beside me. He still had my books.

“I have to go. I need those,” I told him, reaching for them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etching his face.

I might as well tell him. He was the one coming here, doing all he could to get me to go on a date. If he saw what a shit show my life was, he should back down quick enough.

He didn’t hand me my books.

“My dad has a suspended license and was pulled over, then arrested. He was supposed to be with my Grams, who is home alone and has been alone for God knows how long. I need to get to her, then figure out how I’m going to come up with a grand to get him out, although I’d like to just leave him in there. I would if it wasn’t because Grams needs someone with her when I’m not home.” I reached out for my books. “Please, I need to go. I have to hurry.”

He held out my books and opened my satchel to shove them inside, then turned to my Vespa.

“I can give you a ride. It’ll be faster. Not sure it’s safe to drive when you’re worked up like this. Especially that thing.”

Nope. I’d told him the truth, but he wasn’t about to witness it firsthand.

I shook my head and turned to my Vespa. “Thanks, but I’m fine.” Which wasn’t the truth. This day was just getting worse.

“Uh, no, you’re not. Looks like you’ve got a flat front tire,” he told me, and my stomach instantly sank as my eyes dropped to the tire.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.

“Back looks low too. You must have run over something on the way here this morning. Come on. My car is right over here.”

Fantastic. I had no option. Amory Blaine was stepping in to fix all my problems. Well, some of them at least.

I nodded, no longer able to argue. I had to get to Grams.

“Thanks,” I said as he led me over to his shiny silver Porsche.

I heard the doors unlock as we reached it, and then he opened the passenger side for me.

“Just glad I’m here,” he said.

Sometimes, I was sure fate hated me. Today, it seemed to have some pity on me and toss me a sexy, wealthy, tall man to make some of the shit that was being thrown at me less difficult. I’d thank it for the mini break, but since I still had to deal with my dad in jail and the possibility that Grams had burned the house down, I wasn’t going to be that generous yet.

I buckled my seat belt as Amory walked around to get inside the driver’s seat. My hands were balled into fists on my thighs as he started the car up and backed out of the parking spot. I would have to come back here and deal with the tires at some point today. Leaving it here would cause attention I didn’t need. Which meant spending more money that I didn’t need to spend.

“Can you call the house? Check on your Grams?” he asked me as he headed toward the main road.

I shook my head. “No house phone. We had one a couple of years back because she refused to use cell phones, but when she got worse, the sound of it ringing confused her and caused her to get upset.”

He glanced over at my seat belt. “You buckled up tight?” he asked.

I nodded, unsure why he was asking until the car shot off, causing me to be pressed against the smooth leather. My eyes closed when he swerved around a car going slower—at the speed he was going, every car was going slower.

“If we end up in jail for speeding, it’s not gonna help Grams,” I said.

A deep chuckle had me opening my eyes to look at him. He seemed amused, as if he was above the law.

“We won’t. Trust me.”

Oddly enough, I found that I was starting to—trust him, that was. I wasn’t one to trust, but Amory was making it easy to give in and believe him. He’d done nothing but be there for me today when things could have been much worse. Perhaps he was above the law. He seemed to make others bend to his wishes. Even me.

“That seems to be the mantra of the day,” I replied.

He cut his eyes at me. “What?”

I pointed at the road. “Please, if you’re going to drive like you stole this car, then keep your eyes straight ahead. We might not go to jail, but death is a possibility.”

He grinned, but he was looking where he needed to be now.

“Trusting you,” I told him. “The mantra. I don’t have any other choice but to trust you.”

He started to jet around another car, and I held my breath until we were safely in front of them.

“Don’t make me regret it,” I added.

Because I had trusted before, and I’d been burned. Too many times. I had trusted friends, who let me down; my father, who had taught me at a young age not to trust him with anything; and then I’d trusted Merce.

My thoughts went to Merce. Could it have been him who told on me? Would he do that? I hadn’t broken up with him. He was the one who ended it. But I had refused to talk to him in front of the other guys in his fraternity on Friday night. He stayed the entire game, then followed me out, pleading with me to let him explain. There was nothing left to explain. It was over. What had he expected me to do? I was moving on with my life. He’d told me to, and I was.

He had an ego the size of Mount Rushmore. Would my not speaking to him have caused him to retaliate like this? I didn’t want to think he would blatantly hurt me this bad, but then I’d learned he couldn’t be trusted, hadn’t I?

“Whatever you’re thinking, I hope I’m not in it,” Amory said.

I swung my gaze to him. “Why?”

“The scowl on your face is fierce.”

I took a deep breath and tried to relaxed my clenched fists. “I told you to keep your eyes on the road.”

“It was barely a glance,” he said defensively.

We were almost there. My heart sped up some more. What if Grams was hurt? She could have tried to cook something and burned herself. She could have fallen. She could have broken glass and cut her hand and be bleeding to death.

“Easy. Less than a minute. Don’t go having a panic attack on me. Let’s get you inside and make sure all is okay first.” Amory’s voice eased me some, but not enough.

He slowed the car as we neared the house, and it was a straight-up miracle we hadn’t been pulled over. Amory had to be the luckiest person I had ever met. Things seemed to always go his way. Must be nice.

As soon as the car came to a stop, I unbuckled, shot out of the car, then sprinted for the front door, digging out my keys from my bag as I ran. I heard Amory getting out behind me, but I didn’t have time to stop him. If he was coming in, then so be it. I might need help in here anyway. I had no clue what I’d find inside.

Shoving open the door, I left the keys hanging from the lock and rushed inside. “GRAMS!” I called out, running past the empty living room, where I heard her favorite soap opera playing on the television.

I was in the kitchen when I heard the shuffle of her feet. I swung my gaze to the small hallway to see her coming toward me, and I almost fell to my knees and wept in relief. No blood. Nothing was cooking. She appeared to be fine.

“Grams!” I said, going to her. “You’re okay?” I scanned her body for any signs of a problem.

“Course I’m okay,” she chided. “Just got the beds made up and was gonna start on the apple pie that Vin loves so much. Thought he might want a slice when he gets back from work. Why don’t you go wash your hands? I’ll let you peel the apples while I work on the crust.” She patted my arm, smiling, lost in the past as she walked on by me. “Scrub them up good now. Ain’t no telling what all you touched at school.”

I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, then let it out. It was okay. She was okay. All that could have gone wrong hadn’t. I rested my head against the wood paneling and took a moment before going after her to stop whatever mess she was about to make. We didn’t even have apples, much less the stuff she needed to make a pie. If we did, I might just help her make one. Not that Dad would be eating it. As it was, I had no extra money for ingredients. I needed to make a grand if he was going to come home anytime soon.

Turning my head toward the kitchen, I saw Amory standing there, watching me. I’d forgotten he had followed me inside. Straightening, I forced the embarrassment of our home from my thoughts. I would not go there. Not again. I’d been so ashamed of it when Merce came here the first time. But this was a home that my grandfather had bought. He’d taken care of it with Grams. She’d loved this place when I was a kid. She had been proud of what she had. My being embarrassed by it was insulting to them both.

“Seems all is well,” I told him. “Except I need to make sure she doesn’t burn anything down, trying to make a pie.”

His lips quirked, but he didn’t smile. He seemed to be thinking or perhaps trying not to make any expression to give away how he felt about the place where I lived. I was sure he lived in some mansion to go with his fancy car.

Walking back into the kitchen, I found Grams standing in front of the refrigerator, staring at it like she was lost. This was common.

I put my arm around her shoulders and closed the door. “Hey, Grams, your story is on,” I told her. “I can hear it playing in the living room, and you don’t want to miss it. Someone could always return from the dead. And who knows what Victor is up to today?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes. I need to watch it, don’t I?”

“You sure do. Let’s go get you seated in your chair, and I’ll heat you up a slice of pizza.”

She scrunched her nose. “Not the pizza. Do we have any pork chops?”

Gran couldn’t eat pork chops with her dentures, but by the time I had her meal fixed, she’d have forgotten about the pork chops.

“Sure,” I agreed and walked past Amory, who was standing silently.

Grams, however, stopped and turned back around to look at him. “Aren’t you a handsome young man?” she said, her eyes widening. “Isn’t he handsome, Royal?”

I glanced up at him, and he was giving her one of his female-slaying smiles. He closed the space between us and took her hand, then pressed a kiss on the top of it. “Amory Blaine, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you. I can see where your granddaughter gets her beauty from.”

Grams giggled. She actually giggled. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t keep from grinning at him. Merce had never spoken to her. He’d only come inside once. Amory had said he’d come today to charm me, and I had to admit, he was successfully doing so.

“Well, isn’t that sweet?” she said, smiling at me with a pleased look on her wrinkled face. “I like this one. He’s a sharp boy. Just like your father.”

I grimaced and patted her shoulder. “Let’s hope not,” I muttered under my breath and turned her back around toward the living room. “I believe I hear Victor now,” I told her.

“You do? That scoundrel. There is no telling what he’s doing.”

She hurried over to her chair and sat down, her eyes now glued to the television.

I left her there and looked back at Amory. “Thanks for that. She won’t remember you tomorrow—or in ten minutes probably—but thanks.”

His gaze went from her to me. “I was just being honest. You can tell a beauty, no matter what the age. I’m sure she had the men falling at her feet back in her day.”

I headed back to the kitchen. “Oh, she did. Back when she could tell me the stories. My grandfather was four years older than her and would come to her high school and buy her lunches. He worked at the coal mines, and she was from a poor family, much like his. He knew she didn’t have much in the lunch she brought from home. Normally, a cold biscuit from breakfast or an apple, if she was lucky. So, he wooed her with hot lunches from the cafeteria.”

I’d heard that story so many times that I knew every detail by heart.

“If only a hot lunch was all it took these days,” Amory replied teasingly.

I opened up the refrigerator to get the last piece of pizza out to heat up. I needed to go get some more food tonight. I hadn’t been by Rise and Dine in a week. Anya could probably hook me up with the leftovers this afternoon.

“It was more than the food, I assure you. Grams loved him so much that even though he died before she even turned sixty, she’s never looked at another man. We once had a neighbor, Mr. Burnswell. He had a thing for Grams. Brought flowers and chocolates over. When he had a good watermelon crop, he would bring us fresh ones all summer long. But not once did she give him more than a thank you . Poor guy finally gave up.”

I placed the piece of pizza in the microwave and prayed it worked today. It had been struggling lately. Sometimes, it was fine, and other times, it wouldn’t stay on for longer than five seconds before cutting off. Due to it being difficult, I’d been using the oven for almost everything. It continued to cook, so it seemed that Amory’s luck was rubbing off.

“I thought she wanted pork chops,” he said.

I cut my eyes over to him. “We don’t have pork chops, and even if we did, she can’t chew them with her dentures.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “But she will forget she asked for one,” he guessed.

I nodded. “Yep.”