Guilty as Sin
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To Gajus, who is always there to remind me I can
do it, especially when I’m convinced I can’t
Acknowledgments
As always, I have to thank the amazing Monica McCarty. I don’t know what I’d do without you, on so many levels. Thank you also to Kim Whalen, agent extraordinaire, equal parts sweetheart and badass and pure pleasure to work with. And most of all, I have to thank you, my readers. Your emails, tweets, and posts keep me inspired to find ways to tell the stories of the people wandering around in my head.
Prologue
Sandpoint, ID
Fourteen years ago
You understand what a big responsibility this is, don’t you, Kate?” her father said. “You understand that this is your chance to prove we can still trust you?”
Up until three weeks ago, there had been no reason for Senator Beckett and his wife not to. Sixteen-year-old Kate had always been the good twin, the sensible twin. The twin who kept her head on straight and never, ever threatened the senator’s image as an upstanding citizen who fully embraced so-called family values.
But that was before he’d caught her making out in the sunroom with Tommy Ibarra. While her parents had never fully embraced Kate’s unlikely friendship with the local rancher’s son three years her senior, they’d tolerated it. Mostly because Kate’s mother thought it was good for her kids to be exposed to people who existed outside their exclusive circle of Washington, D.C.’s elite. And because as far as they knew, Kate and Tommy’s relationship hadn’t seemed to go beyond a big brother/little sister dynamic.
Not until this summer, at least.
And to say her father wasn’t okay with it was the understatement of the century. Kate was afraid he was going to have an aneurysm when he caught them.
Yet not even his wrath could compel her to keep her promise to stay away from Tommy Ibarra for the rest of their annual vacation on the shores of Lake Pend Oreille.
“Of course,” Kate replied with a smile.
Her father gave her a smile and bent to kiss her on the cheek. “That’s my good girl,” he said, patting her shoulder as he straightened up. “Even after what happened, I know we can still count on you.”
“Of course you can,” Kate replied. As she looked into her father’s eyes, full of warmth and love, she felt a flash of guilt for what she had planned.
“I know you think I’m too strict sometimes, but I just want what’s best for you and our family. And I know you can do a lot better than Tommy Ibarra.”
Her guilt dissolved in a flash of anger, and she fought to keep her hands from curling into fists. Her father had no idea who Tommy really was, had no idea that there was no such thing as doing better than Tommy Ibarra. All he saw was an older local boy trying to take advantage of his teenage daughter.
And while she knew her father loved her and was genuinely concerned for her welfare, he was equally concerned about the scandal that might erupt if the press got wind of her summer romance. As a U.S. Senator whose platform centered on conservative family values, he couldn’t have his daughter’s steamy make-out sessions with inappropriate suitors become public knowledge.
She pulled her mouth into a guileless smile. “Everything will be fine.”
Her father nodded and gave her another quick squeeze. “All right then, we’ll be home tomorrow around lunchtime.”
“Here’s the number where we can be reached.” Kate’s mother pressed the slip of paper into her hand as she was walking to the door.
“I know, you already taped it on the refrigerator,” Kate said impatiently.
Her mom leaned down to kiss her cheek, enveloping Kate in a cloud of perfume and hairspray.
“And your father has his cell phone, not that the darn thing ever seems to work when we need it.”
Kate closed the door behind them and practically danced a little jig. The situation couldn’t have fallen into her lap more perfectly. Her parents would be gone for the night attending a fundraiser in Boise. Her fraternal twin sister, Lauren, was spending the night at the Burkharts’ house with her friend Hailey. Kate knew that was code for she was going to stay out all night partying because everyone except for Kate’s parents knew the Burkharts let them do whatever they wanted as long as it didn’t end in an arrest.
Which left Kate to stay home with Michael, who had come down with a nasty summer flu and wasn’t going anywhere except the living room couch.
Normally Kate would have resented having to be on little-brother detail when there was so much going on, but not tonight. Tonight all she had to do was throw him a cup of soup and send him to bed, and the house would be all hers.
Hers and Tommy’s.
She went into the great room where Michael was sprawled in front of the TV, his attention focused on the Game Boy that seemed permanently grafted to his hand. An empty glass of melting ice and a box of Kleenex sat on the coffee table in front of him. He was surrounded by a dozen or so crumpled-up tissues.
“Can I get you anything?” Kate asked, wrinkling her nose as she picked up a tissue between her thumb and forefinger and threw it in the trash.
Michael’s eyes, blue to match hers, slanted in her direction. “Maybe a pizza?”
“You threw up all morning. I’m not getting you a pizza. How about some toast?”
He shrugged, which Kate took as yes. The phone rang just as she was putting some bread in the toaster.
Kate rushed to answer. She’d told Tommy her parents were leaving at five and to call any time after. “Hey,” she said breathlessly.
But it wasn’t Tommy’s voice on the other line. “Hey, Kate, it’s John.”
“Oh, hi,” she said, her brow wrinkling as she wondered why he might be calling her. She’d known John Burkhart almost her entire life—her father and his had been close since college, and they’d been vacationing here in Sandpoint together for the past six years.
“Is something wrong with Lauren?” She looked at her watch. It was only five thirty, presumably too early for her and his younger sister, Hailey, to have gotten themselves into trouble, but you never knew.
“Uh, no,” he said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just wondering, uh, I mean I know you’re home alone with Michael…”
“Yes,” she prompted as his voice trailed off. But the uneasiness in her belly made her unsure if she really wanted him to go on.
“I was thinking I could maybe come over with a pizza and a movie or something and keep you guys company.”
“Aren’t your next-door neighbors hosting their big bonfire tonight? You never miss it.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been enough times, one summer isn’t going to matter. And I think this would be a good chance for us to hang out.”
“Since when do you want to hang out with me?” Kate asked with genuine confusion. John was twenty, a junior at the University of Colorado, and had always acted like he was way too old and way too cool to hang out with Kate and her sister.
He blew out a harsh breath. “Please, Kate, the fact that I’m interested in you can’t be a total surprise. Why do you think I’m always giving you and your sister rides and going to parties with you?”
He gave a forced-sounding laugh. “Okay, fine, you want me to lay it out there? I like you, Kate. I’ve been interested for a while, but I was waiting till you got a little older to make my move. So what do you say? Can we stop with the pretense that I’m nothing more than a family friend? Let me come over.”
Kate spared a moment to wonder what kind of pheromone she was putting out that suddenly made guys take interest. Kate was the quiet sister who stood around the edges of the crowd while the boys chased Lauren. In any case, though she truly did view John as little more than an acquaintance she never would have known had their parents not been friends, she wanted to let him down easy. “You know my father would go ballistic if he knew I was home alone and had someone over.”
“Kate, it’s me. Your father’s known me all my life. He trusts me.”
“And, more important, he trusts me,” she said, feeling a little pinch of guilt at the knowledge that he no longer had good reason too, “and I can’t risk violating that, even for you.”
“We don’t have to tell him.”
“Even if I don’t, Michael might, and even so, I’m not lying to my father.” Not for you, anyway.
“Tomorrow then. Let me take you to Mary’s for dinner,” he persisted.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kate said warily.
“Kate, do you have any idea how many girls in this town would kill to go out with me?” John snapped.
His arrogance brought an edge to her own voice. “Then ask one of them.”
“What’s the matter, Kate, am I not man enough for you? Do you only get turned on by guys who get dirty and work with their hands, like that gardener of yours? You ever wonder what he does when he’s on his ranch, all alone out there with his sheep—”
Kate’s grip around the phone tightened. Apparently news of her hookup had made it to the Burkhart house. “Good night, John,” she said, and hung up. She buttered Michael’s toast, put it on a plate, and poured herself a Diet Coke over ice. But the sweet fizziness wasn’t enough to chase away the bad taste the conversation had left in her mouth.
The awkwardness was going to be unavoidable—they’d be thrown together constantly for the rest of the summer. She could only hope John would let it go and they could just pretend the whole thing had never happened.
The phone rang again fifteen minutes later and Kate picked it up with no small trepidation, worried it was John going in for another round. But this time it was Tommy. Keeping her voice low, she said, “I think Michael’s going to zone out pretty soon, so I’ll call you after he goes to bed.”
Kate made herself a sandwich and settled on the couch to watch Dumb and Dumber with Michael, who, much to her consternation, didn’t seem in any hurry to head up to bed. When the movie ended and he asked her to put Jurassic Park into the VCR, she replied, “Aren’t you ready for bed?” unable to conceal the exasperation in her voice.
“What’s the difference to you? It’s not like you have anywhere to go.”
Kate gave a little huff of impatience and checked her watch. It was after nine. How long would Tommy wait by the phone before he gave up and came over on his own, revealing everything to her nosy little brother?
Or, worse, decided she wasn’t worth the wait and went out for the night?
“Or maybe,” Michael said idly, his gaze still glued to the television, “you’re waiting for someone to come over here.”
“What makes you think that?” she said, too quickly.
Michael, ever perceptive, slanted a look at her. “It’s Tommy, right?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “I promised Dad I wouldn’t see him anymore.”
“Oh, come on, Kate, you think I don’t hear you and Lauren gossiping all night? I can totally hear you two from my room.”
“Only if you sit with your head glued to the air vent,” she snapped, and snatched up a throw pillow to clobber him over the head.
“Hey, what else am I supposed to do?” Michael threw down the Game Boy and flung his arms up to protect his face. “You guys are the ones with the TV and the VCR player in your room. I don’t have jack crap.”
“Promise you won’t say anything to Dad.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “What’s it worth to you?”
Kate glared right back. “My allowance for the next month?”
He shook his head. “Not good enough. I want a ride to and from school every morning. The bus blows.”
“I can promise rides in the morning but not afternoons. Lauren and I will start SAT prep soon and you’ve got soccer—”
“Fine,” Michael conceded. “Rides in the morning and two months of allowance.”
“Fine,” she bit out, and called him a jerk under her breath.
They were silent a few more minutes watching the movie, then Michael said, “Just so you know, I’ve known for about a week and probably wouldn’t have said anything. Tommy seems like a cool guy. I don’t know why Dad gets all up in his head about it.”
Even her father’s disapproval of Tommy couldn’t erase sixteen years of being a daddy’s girl. Kate automatically jumped to his defense. “Because of who he is, he has to worry about how everything will look, and he has very specific ideas about the kind of people Lauren and I date.”
Michael snorted. “He’d have a stroke if he knew what Lauren’s been up to.”
“How do you know what Lauren’s up to?”
“I know a lot more than you think.”
More silence, then Kate asked. “So if you weren’t going to tell, do I still have to give you my allowance?”
“Hell yeah,” he replied. “Between your two months and the six I already have from Lauren, I’ll finally be able to buy that Jet Ski Mom refuses to let me have.”
“You can buy it, but that doesn’t mean you can keep it.”
“Dad will have me covered.”
Kate rolled her eyes and didn’t argue. It was no secret that while their dad adored and was proud of all of them, he had a particular soft spot for Michael and always let him get away with more. Whether it was because he was the only boy or the youngest or a combination of both, Kate had learned a long time ago not to let the favoritism get to her.
Satisfied Michael wouldn’t narc on her any time soon, she dialed Tommy. Her heart squeezed as the phone got to its fourth ring.
It’s too late, she thought. He got tired of waiting…
“Hello?” he answered, a little breathless as though he’d been running.
“So, um, you can still come over if you want to,” she said.
“Of course I still want to!” he said, the unrestrained eagerness in his voice making her smile.
For the next twenty minutes or so Kate watched the front windows, starting at the sight of each pair of headlights going by.
“He lives outside of town,” Michael reminded her after the third time. “It’ll take him at least fifteen minutes to get here.”
“Aren’t you getting really tired and needing to go upstairs to bed?” she shot back.
He gave an exaggerated stretch. “I’ve been sleeping like, all day, so now I’m not even tired. I could probably stay up all night at this point,” he said with an innocent smile she didn’t buy for a second.
Just then there was a firm knock at the door. She rushed to answer, shooting Michael a glare over her shoulder.
“Hi,” she said, unable to hold back her grin at the sight of Tommy, the harsh planes of his face illuminated by the overhead light. “You got here quicker than I expected.” She moved aside to let him in.
“I might have sped a little,” he said with a sheepish smile. He reached out and placed his hands on her hips as he bent his head to kiss her hello.
“Hey, Tommy.” His head snapped up at the sound of Michael’s call, and there was a flash of pani
c in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” Kate said, taking Tommy by the hand and leading him into the great room. “We worked out a deal.”
Tommy raised a hand in greeting. “Hey. Kate said you’ve been sick.”
“I’m better today,” Michael said, and turned his attention back to his Game Boy.
“But you really should get your rest,” Kate said. “Sleep is really the best thing for your body.”
“I’m getting plenty of rest right here on the couch,” Michael replied.
“Let’s go out on the deck,” Tommy said. Kate shot another glare at her brother as Tommy led her outside. He settled them onto a wicker love seat facing the lake.
He slipped his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled eagerly into his side.
“You sure we’re okay?” Tommy said.
Kate found it hard to focus with his fingers tracing up and down the sensitive skin of her inner arm. “Yeah,” she finally managed. “He named a price for his silence and I caved.”
Tommy gave a soft chuckle. “I hope it wasn’t too bad.”
“Just some money and having to put up with a smelly thirteen-year-old in my car every morning on the way to school.”
Tommy gave a soft laugh. “Remind me to keep him away from my sister Emilia. She’s only nine but she’s already figured out the blackmail thing.”
“I’m glad you could come over tonight,” Kate said, anticipation buzzing in her veins as she thought about what was going to happen.
“Me too,” Tommy whispered, and bent his head to kiss her. He smelled delicious, soapy and the fresh citrus smell of shaving cream. As always, the second his lips touched hers she went spinning out of control, her mouth hungry against his, her hands clutching at him as though she couldn’t get close enough.
And tonight they would be as close as two people could be—
The sharp sound of shattering glass startled them apart. Kate surged to her feet and started for the kitchen where Michael stood, bathed in light from the overhead fixture. He wore a guilty look on his face, and there was a puddle of lemonade and shards of glass surrounding his bare feet.