Suspicions (The Battling McGuire Boys Book 3) by Cynthia Eden Page A

little jerk you used to date? The one who stood you up for homecoming?” Anger roughened his voice.
    She nearly rolled her eyes. She did quicken her step and head right for the gleaming glass doors that would take her out of the museum. “Yes, that’s Alan Channing. And no, he didn’t stand me up. I broke up with him right before homecoming.” They were outside now, and the heat of the city blasted her. Memories were stirring in her mind, and she found herself blurting, “I heard him bragging about having sex with me to some of his football buddies. He was saying that he’d spend five minutes at the dance with me, then have me naked in the motel room ten minutes later.” At the time, those words had shattered her.
    Then she’d learned there were much, much worse things in life than just the words of some ex-boyfriend.
    “He said
what
?” Mark demanded. Fury was stamped on his face. Then he spun on his heel and started charging right back up to the museum.
    “Whoa! Wait!” She grabbed him as understanding hit her. He’d been going back in there to find Alan. And do what? “That was a long time ago.”
    “There’s no expiration date on a whooping.”
    Her jaw dropped. “You are not serious!”
    “If he said that about you—” his eyes were a blue fire “—then yes, I’m dead serious.”
    And she’d thought her brothers were bad. “He was a teenager. He said something stupid and I dumped him. End of story.” She’d handled it on her own. “I don’t need you fighting this battle for me.” There was no battle there
to
fight.
    “But he...hurt you.”
    For some reason, those words made her heart ache. “Do you know who I haven’t thought about? Not once in all of these years?”
    The door to the museum opened. Alan appeared.
    Really bad timing, Alan.
    “Him,” she told Mark as she slid closer to him. Both of her hands were on Mark’s shoulders now because she was more than a little worried he might break away and drive his fist into Alan’s perfect smile. “Because he didn’t matter after that night.”
    She could feel the tension in Mark’s body.
    “So let it go,” she told him. “I sure have.”
    His gaze dropped to her lips. Then he leaned forward. Kissed her—not hard and deep. But softly. Carefully. “I just don’t want,” he whispered against her mouth, “anyone hurting you.”
    Warmth spread through her. Mark had to feel some of the same emotions that she did. And he was kissing her—again! Making her feel like she mattered to him. More than anything.
    “Well...” That was Alan’s slightly nasal voice. “I thought you were meeting your brothers, Ava.”
    “You should really let me throw at least one punch at him,” Mark murmured.
    “No,” she snapped back at him. Then she looked at Alan. “You know Mark Montgomery, don’t you?”
    Alan nodded once, stiffly. “I believe you’re on the board here, too, aren’t you, Montgomery? When I signed on, they were telling me the names of a few others that I’d be working with.”
    “Yeah, I’m on the board.” Mark’s voice was flat.
    Wait, both of them? And suddenly she was wondering just
why
she’d been offered the plum job at the art museum.
    “I didn’t realize the two of you were...involved,” Alan said. He smiled at her, but it certainly wasn’t the big grin he’d worn before. Far more forced and coldly polite.
    “It’s new,” Mark said blandly. “She came back to town and—boom. I wasn’t about to let her go again.”
    Alan’s gaze slid to Ava. Softened. “I understand.” He nodded to them. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting that’s waiting.”
    A meeting that hadn’t been waiting before when he’d asked her out to lunch?
    He hurried down the stairs. She kept a close eye on Mark, making sure he wasn’t going to go all macho on her and try to take a swing at the guy. “I think he’s a bit afraid of you.” Alan had sure fled fast enough. “Why would he be afraid?” she asked. Her