Distortion Control (A Makayla Rose Mystery Book 3) by Audrey Claire

Could I? The ridiculous explanation hung on the tip of my tongue.
    He bared his teeth in the dim lighting, and I had the impression of a wild animal. “Mind your business, Makayla. It’s safer.” He spun away to stomp over to his bag. I noted as he retreated, he didn’t wear a shirt, and he was in the same shape now as he was in the photo.
    Dismissing thoughts of his physical attributes, I drew myself up. Makayla Rose did not back down to anyone. “What was your relationship with Penelope?”
    He swung around to face me. I couldn’t see his expression very well, so I threw the curtains back farther, flooding the room with light. He squinted and raised a hand to his eyes. “Jeez, my head is killing me. Do you have to do that?”
    “Don’t change the subject, Ash.” I strode closer. “I want to know. Were you having an affair with Penelope?”
    His eyes bugged, and his mouth fell open. Where he had been shocked a moment before, I watched as the emotions flitted over his countenance. Seconds later, I couldn’t have told you what he was thinking or what was real or faked. Ash didn’t respond for a long time. When he did, my respect and attraction to him plummeted.
    “Yes, I did. Is that what you want to hear?”
    “Why would I want to? I’m disappointed in you. Spencer is your brother.”
    Something flitted in his gaze that reminded me of my own past. I had no right to judge him, and I shut down any additional comments I might have made. I swung toward the door.
    “Makayla.”
    I paused and looked back. His expression was cold, charm gone.
    “I’m not going to explain myself to you, and I expect you to stay out of my room. And…”
    “And what?” I demanded.
    This time I did see a small vulnerability in him before it disappeared. “I need to know if you’re going to mention this to Spencer.”
    I gaped. “Why would I want to hurt him? His wife is dead. Murdered. ”
    What was I thinking, emphasizing the word that way? Ash took a step in my direction, but I backpedaled to the door and bumped into it. My fingers searched blindly for the knob, and when I found it, I jerked the door wide before fleeing through it.
    By the time I reached my car and sat inside with the power locks thrown, I panted. Ashamed, embarrassed, confused, I waited until I calmed down and turned over the engine to head out. I had wanted to believe Ash was a good guy. Now I didn’t know what to think. He didn’t attempt to follow me, and I thought it might be my imagination that he seemed alarmed that I had fled from him. I could be mistaken.
    The next morning, I stared at my computer screen without comprehending a single shot I had downloaded from my camera. The colors blurred before my eyes, and try as I might, I couldn’t get my mind to focus. These particular ones were of the progress of Peony’s shop and the new appearance of the inside. Peony had had the workmen move the counter and the stove from being the focus and holding center court to occupying the space just outside the actual kitchen. To everyone involved, it made much more sense.
    My problem came in with this series of shots themselves, and I needed to work my magic. The prospect of fixing errors always excited me and could keep my head down for hours at a time. Even my appetite couldn’t compete. Yet, today, I was worse than useless.
    The sound of a car pulling into my lot distracted me, and I frowned. A quick check of my schedule showed no clients due. This was a day for editing and for hopefully hearing news from Paul.
    The door opened, and I went still. Ash’s broad shoulders took up the entrance, and he stepped into my tiny space then shut the door behind him. Doubtful he would attack in broad daylight, right? Wait, you were already attacked in broad daylight, Makayla.
    I used the only weapon I had on me at the time—the cold shoulder. “What can I do for you, Ash?”
    He flashed a smile, his weapon of choice. I think his was sharper. He affected a shiver.