The Playboy (Chandler Brothers 2)

Because back then she’d been viewing the pictures in a sales catalogue, not in what was meant to be a display of town pride. The thought brought her back to her surroundings and she realized she was practically naked on screen, on display for the entire town to see. In front of all the people who respected Officer Rick Chandler and the rest of his family. It wasn’t just her reputation at stake, it was theirs too.

“Oh, my God. I have to get out of here.” She jumped out of Rick’s arms and stood, but as all eyes turned her way, she realized her mistake immediately.

Whoever had been focused on the photograph now turned their attention on the subject herself. Pointing, whispering, laughing. Kendall had become the immediate object of ridicule. Her face heated and flamed and waves of nausea washed over her. How had this happened?

Rick wrapped an arm around her waist and tried to nudge her forward. “Kendall, let’s go.”

But his voice barely penetrated the fog suddenly surrounding her. Glancing back, she saw the photograph had been replaced by a more recent one of First Street. The evidence was gone but the damage had been done, Kendall was forced to acknowledge. “I thought . . .”

“You can tell me whatever you thought later. Let me get you home first.”

She felt him push at her again, to get her to move but she remained rooted in place. “I thought I could finally belong.”

But obviously belonging wasn’t a word she’d ever have the right to use. The laughter, shocked gasps, and muted whispers of people she’d come to know and care about still rang in her ears, reminding her of her first day in the beauty salon, when folks had made it clear she was an outsider.

She always would be.

* * *

“You do belong,” Rick told her, hoping his words would penetrate. She belonged here in this town and to him.

Rick knew the people in Yorkshire Falls well and for the most part they were a warm, welcoming, forgiving lot. Minus a select few. Their reaction to the photograph had been borne of shock but no one would penalize Kendall for her choice in modeling jobs, of that he was certain.

However that didn’t take into account the photo’s immediate impact. The picture had been taken for the purpose of enticing buyers—men and women whose tastes ran for the extremely hot and sexy, and to the more erotic games in the bedroom. And it had done its job well. When Rick closed his eyes, he saw Kendall in a leather bustier, her plump cleavage enticing him, her flat stomach calling to him. And though no one in town would hold a benign photograph or job against her, they wouldn’t quickly forget what they’d seen either.

Hell, he wouldn’t forget the sight of her in all that leather. Leather. He flashed back to the last time he’d seen a leather getup—on Lisa Burton. Come let me show you my props, she’d said and dangled a pair of fur-lined handcuffs at him. Son of a bitch, Rick thought.

“I belong?” Kendall asked on a high-pitched laugh. “Ask these people if I’m one of them.” She shook her head and he realized her entire body was trembling.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We’re going home.” Much as he wanted to settle things with Lisa once and for all, he needed to take care of Kendall first. “I don’t know for a fact who did this,” he told her. “But I have a hunch. You need to realize it feels bad now, but it doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

She jerked out of his grasp, staring at him with a wide, incredulous gaze. “Are you serious? It means everything.”

His stomach churned at the force of her words. Obviously she believed this had changed things for her. For them.

She’d not only withdrawn but he could see her flight mechanism kicking in, something ingrained in her from her past. When things got tough, her relatives shuffled her from one house to another. When her life as an adult got shaky, she got into her car and ran. With this photograph, Kendall was facing her biggest challenge—would she gather her inner courage, stay and fight?

Or would she continue to withdraw from him until she felt justified in leaving?

“I’m not going to argue with you now.” He tugged on her hand and forcibly pulled her away from the staring eyes and the not-so-hushed whispers, and led her toward the car.

He couldn’t force her not to run again. He just had to remind her of how he felt before that damning blown-up photograph. He loved her and he’d damn well tell her again, when she was ready to listen. Right now, the shock and pain were still acute. After she’d had time to absorb and deal with this embarrassment, he’d divulge his feelings once more.