Evasive Action (Holding The Line Book 1)

kitchen counter but now sat perched on a stool, hunched over his phone and a second bottle of beer.
“I’m going to have to do some catching up.” She pinged his empty bottle with her powder-pink-tipped fingernail.
He shoved the other bottle toward her. “Haven’t touched it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want it?”
“I probably need a clear head for what’s coming.” With his foot, he nudged the other stool in her direction.
Hitching up the legs of the sweats, she sat down and grabbed the beer. She raised the bottle. “Here’s to catching the SOBs who murdered that woman and defiled her body.”
“The particular SOBs? Probably not, but we’re working night and day to bring down Las Moscas.” Clay scratched at the damp label on the empty beer bottle. “That wedding dress?”
April took a long pull from her beer and squared her shoulders.
Clay’s cell phone buzzed next to his hand and he held up one finger. “Hold that thought. I’d better get this.”
How much should she tell Clay about Jimmy and the whole mess? She’d never even told him why she ran out on their own wedding—and she never would.
“You sure Adam’s not here?” Clay held up his phone.
“Of course.” She squinted at the call coming through and pressed a hand to her chest. “Why is Adam calling you?”
Clay lifted a shoulder and answered his phone. “Adam?”
He paused for a few seconds and then held out the phone to her. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Me?” April’s fingers curled into the soft cotton of the T-shirt. How did Adam know she was with Clay? She hadn’t told him where she was going. Hell, she hadn’t even known she’d wind up in Paradiso when she’d texted him.
She grabbed the phone from Clay’s hand and hopped off the stool as he swept her beer from the counter and headed for the back rooms.
“Adam? How’d you know I’d be with Clay?”
“C’mon, April. Give me some credit. You’re in one big mess. Where else would you go?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “What do you know about my big mess?”
“I know a lot more than you indicated in your text. When you told me the wedding was off and to steer clear of Jimmy, I figured you’d found out.”
April gritted her teeth but managed to grind out the question on her lips. “You knew about Jimmy?”
“I did.” Adam had the decency to cough. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Why did you...?” April braced her hand against the front door. “Never mind. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“April, I know I don’t have the right to ask you this, especially after what I just admitted, but do not tell Clay about Jimmy. You haven’t told him anything, have you?”
“Not yet.” She pounded the door with her fist. It was happening again. “Why shouldn’t I tell him?”
“Because if you do, Jimmy will kill me...and then he’s gonna kill you.”

Chapter Three
“Everything okay?” Clay peered into the living room from the hallway.
April started and spun around, the phone clutched to her chest, her face as white as that wedding dress she’d stripped off. “Yeah.”
“Or as okay as things can be with Adam.” He cocked his head. “Is he still getting into trouble?”
“You could say that.” She held out his phone. “Thanks.”
He crossed the room and took the phone from her trembling hand. “Why’d he call for you on my phone? Where’s yours?”
“I thought I told you. I took off with nothing—no phone, no money, no ID.” She shrugged her stiff shoulders.
“Where’d you get that car?” He jerked his thumb toward the window.
“A—a friend. I got it from a friend.”
“What’s the story, April?” He held up the beer bottle, the label shredded to bits. “I finished your beer. Do you want another?”
“I’ll take one.” She smoothed her hands over her face and emerged with her lips stretched into a smile. “There’s no real story.”
She followed him into the kitchen and sat on the edge of a stool. “I ran out on another wedding. That shouldn’t be a surprise to you, of all people.”
He popped up from the fridge, beer in hand. He set the new bottle on the counter in front of her. “I never got the whole story on that wedding, either. I guess I can’t expect to get the truth out of you when it comes to your wedding to someone else.”
“I decided he wasn’t the one for me.” She pressed the sweating bottle against her pink cheek.
“You just figured that out on the morning of the blessed event?”
She nodded and took a sip of beer.
“What was the hurry? You took off in a borrowed car with nothing? Not even your purse? You didn’t have the backbone to tell the poor sap?” He clicked his tongue. “April, April. You’re getting worse and worse at ditching weddings and fiancés. At least you had the guts to tell me to my face.”
April bit her bottom lip. “H-he’s not a good guy, Clay.”
“Did he hit you?” His fists curled at his sides, despite his resolve to steer clear of April and her problems.
“No. Nothing like that.” She blinked her eyes. “But he has a bad temper, and I didn’t want to deal with the fallout. Call me a coward.”
“Will he come after you?” Like he never did.
She twisted a lock of blond hair around her finger, and Clay swallowed as he remembered the smell of that hair—all sunshine and foolish dreams.
“He doesn’t know where I am. I was actually on my way to Mexico when I saw the highway for Tucson and thought...” She curled her hand around the bottle and took a swig of beer. “Oh, hell. I don’t know what I thought. I just had a strong desire to see you again.”
“Did you love this guy?” Clay held his breath. He couldn’t stand the thought of April in love with someone else, wanting someone else the way she once wanted him.
She rounded her shoulders. “I don’t think so.”
“You have a bad habit of agreeing to marry men you don’t love.”
Her blue eyes