Secret (Peters Junction Series Book 1)



  Secret

  Peters Junction Series Book 1

  by Nicola Sinclair

  Copyright © 2016 Nicola Sinclair

  Published by Nicola Sinclair

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, copied, distributed or otherwise made available by any persons or entity in any form (including, but not limited to, printed, electronic, digital, visual) or by any means (including, but not limited to, photocopying, recording, scanning) without prior written permission from the author.

  For permission to use any part of the material in this book, contact Nicola Sinclair at https://www.nicola-sinclair.com

  This book is entirely a work of fiction. People, places, events and incidences described are entirely the product of the authors imagination, and any references to actual locations or real people are used solely for the purpose of establishing authenticity, and are used fictitiously. Any resemblances and similarities to persons living or dead, or to actual events and situations is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Also by Nicola Sinclair

  About the Author

  For Maresa.

  Thank you for encouraging me to write my stories down.

  Chapter One

  April Pope sat behind a little bar table tucked away in the back corner of Trend, the hottest and most exclusive nightclub in Sydney… and she couldn’t wait to leave. She had only a few sips of her drink left and then she would gather her things and walk out. If it wasn’t for the fact that the tropical fruit concoction was the best cocktail she’d ever tasted, she would already have left, but as it was she was loath to leave behind the heavenly coconut goodness. At least her table was way in the back where the music volume was lower and you could actually have a normal conversation without losing your voice from yelling all night. Or leaving with a splitting headache.

  Karen, her agent, had already headed home to her pregnant daughter, and Abigale had just left on the arm of some reality TV lifeguard she’d been dancing with for the past hour. April was just about to call it a night herself. She hated nightclubs and had only agreed to come because Abigale was an assistant producer with the firm who wanted to buy the movie rights to her books, and when a person standing between you and an enormous payday asks you to accompany them to a nightclub, well, you just accept. Don’t you? Even if you didn’t particularly like them?

  Including Trend, April had only ever entered two nightclubs. Pretty pathetic for a twenty-six-year-old. She’d been twenty-two her first time and knew the moment she’d stepped into the dimly lit Adelaide club that she didn’t belong. The blaring music had vibrated every nerve in her body, and the crowds of people pushing against her made her feel claustrophobic despite the cavernous room. She couldn’t wait to leave. But she’d promised her younger sister that she’d at least try to relax and have a good time, so she’d hung about for an hour before bolting for the door.

  Thankfully, Trend was slightly more tolerable, at least in the back corner. And although she hadn’t exactly been enjoying herself, April had been able to relax a little.

  One week, she reminded herself. One week and then you’re on a plane home. One week and you’ll be back in Peters Junction, and all this will be over.

  April took another slow sip of her cocktail and sighed her appreciation. She glanced over to the table nearest her in time to see a man shoving a wad of cash into the bag of a tall, leggy, peroxide bombshell wearing a dress so tight it may well have been sprayed on. The woman laughed at something the man said and he beamed at her with pure adoration, but April noticed the calculating look in her eyes. This girl was working, and she quickly rewarded her customer with ardent and overt appreciation.

  She couldn’t help comparing herself to the beauty before her. They were probably the same height—although it was hard to tell when they were both sitting down—but where the blonde was as thin as any catwalk model and had her hair cut below her ears in a sleek, modern style, April was curvaceous with long chestnut brown hair that fell below her shoulders in waves which, rather than looking elegant, often tangled itself in knots that wouldn’t be out of place on a sail boat. She didn’t think of herself as unattractive, but with her dark boot-leg jeans and black woollen tunic that barely showed her cleavage, her look was more regular-and-comfortable than bombshell. Sure, she’d dressed her outfit up a bit with a chunky beaded necklace that matched her green eyes and a wide green belt that accentuated her narrow waist, but it didn’t do much to change her prospects. Men didn’t fall all over themselves to gain her attention.

  “You’re hot.” A drunk guy slurred as he propped himself up against her table, slipping sideways when his coordination was challenged by his inebriation. “Wanna come dance?”

  Okay, so maybe some guys did fall all over themselves while trying to gain her attention, but only when they were wearing beer goggles.

  “No, thank you.” April offered him a fake smile for his effort but quickly averted her eyes in dismissal.

  “Bitch!” The guy grumbled while walking away, and April’s gaze strayed once again to the bombshell and her mark.

  A loud giggle from another nearby table drew April’s attention away from the couple who were in desperate need of a room, only to be confronted with another couple so involved in each other’s embrace that they seemed to have forgotten they were in a public setting. To make it worse, the tall man with designer grey streaks slicing through his rich black hair was easily recognisable as Dan Pulter—star of that Aussie cop show—and the woman with him was young enough to be his daughter. April cringed inwardly. She wasn’t usually hung up on age gaps between couples but the guy was acting like a randy teenager rather than a fifty-something adult.

  He wasn’t the only celebrity in the place either. The club was crawling with them. In fact, most of the Trend’s clientele seemed to have some recognisable hold in the entertainment industry and the only reason April and Karen had even been able to get in was because Abigale had enough influence with the doorman.

  Her gaze was drawn again to the bombshell as she moved into the lap of her companion and began slowly rotating her hip across his groin while she whispered something into his ear. Hastily he stood up, surprising the woman as she slipped off his lap before his arms quickly wrapped around her waist to steady her. Then, without giving her time to regain her balance, he grabbed her arm and dragged her through the club towards the door.

  April quickly pulled her little notebook out of her bag and began writing down her many observations. As an author, she had always felt that the best way to write authentic characters was to observe the natural interactions between the people around her and then mimic their behaviours in her words. She may as well make the most of this night. Especially since this was not a setting she normally researched.
br />   Surveying the crowd for other interesting exchanges, April failed to see the tall man approach until he stood blocking her view. His black skin tight jeans and royal blue silk shirt hugged his figure superbly so that you could make out just enough muscle definition to know that he would be magnificent with his shirt off.

  Holy shit! April blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. She didn’t usually indulge in such stimulating observations, but her fingers twitched on her pen, wanting desperately to write those thoughts down. Fighting the blush working its way into her cheeks, she summoned the courage to raise her eyes to the stranger standing before her.

  “Can I join you?” A jolt of recognition shot through her, but for a moment she fumbled through her memories to connect his face to a name. Then it hit her and her stomach flipped over. If she wasn’t sitting down, she would have already collapsed to the floor.

  Lachlan Kennedy. Young, gorgeous, Australian movie star, Lachlan Kennedy. He was even better looking in person than he was on screen, and she couldn’t stop the thrill that raced up her spine at the sight of him.

  “No worries.” The words were out of her mouth before she could decide if it was a good idea or not. Why would Lachlan Kennedy want to talk to her?

  He grinned broadly as he lowered his considerable height onto the barstool beside her. “I’m Lachlan.”

  “Kennedy. Yes, I know. I’m April.” She reached out to shake the hand he offered, pulling back after only the briefest touch. The physical contact had lasted long enough for her to feel the shock of energy that coursed through her. Static electricity, she scolded herself, nothing more. And when had her palms become so sweaty? Beneath the table she wiped her hand on her jeans.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” The question was merely a formality because at that moment a waiter walked over and placed another cocktail before her and a beer in front of Lachlan. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, that really irritated her.

  “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” She observed drily as the waiter walked away. What is wrong with you? She mentally banged her head against the table, hoping that would knock some sense into her. Why the hell was she chastising Lachlan Kennedy for buying her a drink? He was Lachlan Freaking Kennedy. And he was buying her a drink. Her. April Pope. She needed to find out which deity had brought to life this fantasy and then she needed to start bowing down and giving thanks.

  “Sometimes,” Lachlan admitted cockily, his crooked half smile causing her stomach to flip-flop, “but if you don’t want it, don’t drink it. I won’t be offended.” His eyes locked with hers, daring her to refuse the drink.

  Sapphire blue. It was the only thought in her head that made any sense and it was because of the two gems fixated on her. Her pulse quickened and she struggled to keep her breathing calm. When she could no longer stand the intensity of his gaze, she broke eye contact and reached out for the drink in front of her, taking a long, slow sip. She hummed her enjoyment when the fruity concoction hit her tongue and the icy liquid cooled her as she swallowed it down, a welcome relief against the sudden temperature rise in the club. Seriously, has the air-conditioner crashed?

  When she looked up again, he was still staring but this time, his focus was on her lips around the straw and she felt another blush creeping up her neck. She quickly took another sip in an attempt to cool down, hoping she could keep her flush under control. Lachlan must have realised he was staring because he cleared his throat and his eyes darted away.

  “So April, what’s a beautiful girl like you doing hiding in the back corner of a place like this?”

  She choked on her cocktail as a snort of laughter burst out of her. She couldn’t help it. Was he seriously going with a variation of the What’s-a-nice-girl-like-you-doing-in-a-place-like-this pick-up line? It was so cheesy. She’d expected an A-list movie star to be more subtle, more sophisticated. He frowned at her as she hurriedly tried to compose herself.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, still trying to suppress her laughter. “It’s just that as pick-up lines go, that one’s at home amongst the dinosaurs.”

  A wide grin cracked his face and he chuckled in a self-deprecating manner. April stopped laughing. She stopped breathing too. His smile transformed his face and what before was handsome suddenly became devastating. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think before I opened my mouth. It wasn’t a pick-up line. I was genuinely asking what you’re doing.” He gestured to the notebook in front of her.

  “Oh.” April quickly snapped the book shut. “Um, working.”

  “And do you always bring your work to nightclubs?”

  “No.” April could have kicked herself. She should be charming and witty. Hell, she wished she could give more than just a single-word answer, but for some reason her brain was foggy and all she could think about was that his shirt pulled casually over his chest, hinting at the broad expanse that lay beneath. In his last movie, Explosion, there was a scene where he had his shirt off and his chest was bereft of all hair. She wondered now if that was natural or if he waxed it off. She wondered what it would be like to run her hand across it.

  Stop it! This was getting ridiculous.

  “You’re not very forthcoming are you?” He chuckled to himself. She jerked her eyes back to his face.

  “Sorry.” She felt awkward. How does someone talk to a movie star without looking stupid?

  “All right, how about we start with something easy then? Where are you from?”

  “South Australia.” He waited expectantly for her to elaborate, so after a brief pause, she continued. “Well, actually I’m from Queensland, but I currently live in Peters Junction… about three hours north of Adelaide.”

  He grinned and a lock of chocolate brown hair fell across his forehead. She couldn’t help thinking how much she loved chocolate and her pulse leapt again. “So what brings you to Sydney, April?” Lachlan asked, absentmindedly brushing his hair away without any notion of the effect he was having on her.

  Stop being stupid! He’s just like any other man. Who cares if he’s gorgeous and famous… and so goddamn gorgeous! She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and exhaled shakily.

  “Work,” she said, only this time she grinned cheekily. If he wanted more information out of her, he would have to ask the right questions. When he grinned in response, April’s heart fluttered again and did a little happy dance in her chest.

  “And what line of work are you in?” he persisted.

  “I’m an author.”

  “Really? And you find trendy nightclubs a good place to work?”

  “Sometimes,” she said a little bit too defensively. “When I need to get a new perspective.”

  “I didn’t mean any offense, I’m just curious, that’s all.” He leaned back casually in his chair and narrowed his eyes slightly. “Usually, the only people you find in a place like this are those who want to be seen, those who want to get drunk or those who want to get laid. Sometimes all three at once. But here you are, hiding in the back corner so you obviously don’t want to be seen. And before I came over you were sipping the same cocktail for nearly an hour, so you obviously aren’t planning on getting drunk. And you’ve ignored at least three men that I’ve seen who’ve been trying to catch your eye all evening, so you don’t appear to want to get laid. I was curious.”

  “You’ve been watching me?” She was shocked by the revelation. She hadn’t even noticed him in the room until he’d walked up to her table. And he was Lachlan Freaking Kennedy. Not exactly the most inconspicuous person in the world. She didn’t even bother to entertain the idea about the other men trying to catch her attention, because she didn’t believe that for a second.

  He cleared his throat and his eyes widened slightly. Clearly he hadn’t meant to tell her that and it sent a thrill through her body. “So would I know your work?” he asked, ignoring her question.

  “Now how could I possibly know if you’ve read my work?” She tried to come across as flirtatious but then quickly cont
inued when she realised she just sounded pathetic. “I write fantasy fiction. I’m currently working on a new trilogy.”

  His eyes widened again and a delighted expression crossed his face. “I love fantasy! My favourite author is A.D. Pope. Perhaps you know of him? He wrote the Green Man Trilogy.” He came in close and lowered his voice, thoroughly warming up to the topic. “Apparently he’s here talking to producers about making it into a movie. My agent is trying to get me a meeting. I really want to be involved in the project.”

  April’s face fell, and it felt as if a lump of lead had landed in her lap. “Is this a joke?”

  “What?” He sat back in his chair. “What do you mean?”

  “I should have known you wouldn’t sit at my table without a reason.” Anger surged through April. She knew it was too good to be true. Why would such a good looking, successful movie star with the world at his feet deign to sit beside her in a club crowded with beauties like the blond bombshell? He wouldn’t. It was that simple. Not unless he was after something, and in this instance he was after the lead in her movie. Well she was having none of it. She may not be aware of the rules of the game in showbiz, but that didn’t mean she had to play by them. Holding her back ramrod straight, she raised her chin proudly.

  “Does this ploy work for you?” she said furiously. “Find the unsuspecting nobody who doesn’t know a thing about how this business works, show her a bit of attention, flatter her a bit and then hopefully you’ll get what you want? I bet you thought that because I was a girl, it would be easy to sweet-talk me into putting in a good word or something. Well forget it! I don’t take kindly to being used.”

  She gathered her things, scraped back her chair and stalked away. In a heartbeat he was on his feet and had caught up, grabbing her arm to stop her.

  “Wait! What are you talking about?”

  “Oh please! Like you don’t know.” She shook off his arm and turned to leave again. Inside she was fuming. Who the hell had told him? She knew she shouldn’t have trusted those goddamn movie producers to keep their word. She should sue the lot of them. Yeah, right! Like that was even a possibility.

  “Look April, if I somehow offended you, I’m sorry, but could you please tell me what this is about?”

  April paused and turned again to look at him. He’s an actor. He’s an actor. He has to lie for a living. But somehow, the mantra running through her head wasn’t convincing because she believed the confusion she saw in his eyes.

  “You really don’t know who I am?” she asked, still not wanting to believe him.

  He shook his head, his lips pressed firmly together, his eyes intense.

  “April Daphne Pope.”

  As soon as she’d said it, April trapped her mouth shut and wished she could take it back. She hadn’t volunteered that information in ten years, and here she was blurting it out to a stranger. What was wrong with her?

  Lachlan shook his head again, not understanding. But a moment later, she could see realisation dawning on him. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped until his mouth was gaping. He quickly shut it only to have it fall open again as if he still couldn’t process the information.

  “A.D. Pope?” He eventually stammered, and she nodded briefly, mentally scolding herself for telling him. “You’re a girl!”

  A laugh escaped her before she realised. She couldn’t help it. The way he’d said it made it seem as if being a girl was as ridiculously unbelievable as being an alien, or the Queen of England.

  “And you thought that I was—” Again she nodded, only now she felt a bit sheepish for going off at him the way she had. “Well I wasn’t, I swear! I honestly thought A.D. Pope was a bloke. I mean the biographical info on the back cover of all your books makes no mention of you being a girl and there’s no photo.” He was telling the truth about that at least. She had written up her own bio and deliberately kept the information vague and generalised.

  “I like my privacy.” It was all she could think of to say, but it didn’t even come close to explaining anything. Lachlan, however, simply nodded his understanding.

  “So, can we sit down again?” He gestured towards their table, but it was already occupied by another couple so caught up in each other’s embrace, they might as well have been sharing the same chair.

  “Or we could find another table…” For the first time he seemed unsure of himself, something April found endearing. But the place was getting a bit too crowded for her liking and the only free tables she could see were towards the dance floor where the music was so loud she wouldn’t be able to hear herself think, let alone hear him speak. She hesitated as she looked up at Lachlan, wanting nothing more than to spend time getting to know the man who made her heart flutter for the first time in her life. But at the same time, alarm bells rang loudly inside her head, overriding the blaring music and pounding base spewing out from the club’s speakers. This was Lachlan Kennedy. Apart from the obvious fact that to someone like him, she would be merely a diversion for the night, just being with him would draw unwanted attention her way.

  “To tell you the truth, Lachlan, I had just decided to leave when you sat down. This really isn’t my scene. I don’t like crowds and I’d rather just call it a night.” He was stunned, she could tell. It wasn’t often Lachlan Kennedy was turned down by a woman. She doubted many men would turn him down either.

  “There’s a coffee shop down the street that’s open late. At least let me buy you a coffee.” Still April hesitated. “Please?”

  Oh Crap! There went her heart fluttering again, and it was so hard to resist the plea in his eyes. Before she realised what she was doing and against her better judgement, she nodded her agreement and allowed him to escort her out of the building. He pressed his hand against the small of her back as he guided her through the crowd and her body thrummed beneath the contact.