Tangled Lies Read Online Free

furniture, eyeing the narrow stairs leading to the big upstairs bedroom under the eaves she’d shared with Eve and Cathy.
    “Where’s Cathy?”
    Again Eve looked away. “She goes by Cat now. And she’s . . . she couldn’t get away this weekend.”
    Which meant Cathy/Cat still hadn’t forgiven her. Sasha wasn’t really surprised, but a foolish part of her had hoped they could finally move on. Looking through the back doorway, she could see the crowd of people who had come to her mother’s party, smell the burgers and chicken on the grill, hear the laughter and country music blasting from a boom box. Pop’s choice, no doubt, since Mama would have preferred Italian opera.
    Preparing herself, Sasha followed Eve down the long hallway to the back door.
    At her first sight of Mama, Sasha froze, one hand on the screen door. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. No matter what Eve had said, she hadn’t been prepared. This frail, sickly woman wearing a colorful scarf because she’d lost her hair to chemo couldn’t be Mama Rosa. Dear God, no. Abject fear and a hefty dose of guilt slapped her, hard. She was tempted to turn around and run for her Jeep. But she wouldn’t. Not today.
    She forced the tears back, took a deep breath, and dug deep for a smile. For Mama, she could do this.

    Jesse Claybourne had just taken a sip of his drink when the screen door opened and the star of all his teenage fantasies stepped out. He nearly choked as he realized, yes, it was in fact Sasha Petrov, the prodigal daughter come home. After all these years. And by all accounts, Mama Rosa and Sal had certainly killed the fatted calf.
    Without conscious thought, he moved closer. She looked good, he decided, if a little tired and ragged around the edges. He supposed having a mother fighting cancer would do that to you. Beside her, Eve looked the same as ever: elegant and sophisticated, but with a heart as big as all outdoors. Sasha, of the amazing mane of hair and athletic body that begged to be touched, would as soon bite your hand as let you pet her.
    She tried to laugh at something Eve said, and even through the strain in her voice, the rich sound slapped him hard. Yeah, he’d always been a sucker for Sal and Rosa’s oldest.
    The sisters moved down the porch to where Mama Rosa sat in a white wooden rocker in the shade. Sasha swallowed hard, twice, before she grabbed the gold mariner’s cross she always wore to keep it from hitting Rosa as she carefully bent to kiss her mother on both cheeks.
    He understood her shock. This was not the robust fireball who’d chased him off with a broom for stealing cookies.
    Mama Rosa grabbed Sasha’s hands when she would have pulled away and whispered something that made Sasha nod and take a careful breath. He waited a moment before he eased up onto the porch, pretending he didn’t see Sasha turn her back toward her mother and close her eyes as she rubbed her heart.
    “Happy birthday, Mama Rosa,” he said. “Had I known it was your birthday, I’d have brought you flowers.” He leaned in to place his own kiss on her cheek, smiling when she held his face in her hands.
    “Jesse Claybourne, let me look at you.” She scanned him from head to toe, then patted his hand. “You’re a good boy. You can bring them next time.” She hitched her chin toward Sasha. “At least you’ll come to visit me.”
    Sasha blanched.
    “That’s because you’re the best cook around.” He glanced skyward. “No offense, Aunt Clarabelle.”
    “Thank you, Jesse.” Rosa shrugged. “We all have our talents. Your Aunt Clarabelle was a good woman and a fine schoolteacher. She will be missed.”
    Jesse nodded and, out of the corner of his eye, watched Sasha casually check him out. When their eyes met, he winked, and a lovely flush spread over her cheeks. Clearly uncomfortable, she wrapped her arms around her middle as she stepped in his direction.
    “Surprised to see you here, Money-boy.”
    He sent her his best smile.