A Family Affair: Summer: Truth in Lies, Book 3 (10 page)

So, she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t forget. “I know,” she said softly.

He stared at her, as if that comment surprised him. Then his shoulders relaxed and he frowned. “It’s a damn nuisance, isn’t it?”

“If you mean the remembering what we want to forget, yes
, it’s horribly inconvenient.” Her pulse tripled. Maybe he’d wished for a second chance. Maybe he still did.

“I’ve never seen anyone with that same shade of
blond,” he said, studying her hair. “And I’ve looked.”

Tess fingered a few strands of hair and murmured, “Genes, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess.” He traced the handle of his coffee mug and said, “What have you been doing for eight years?”

She shifted in her chair and l
et out a small laugh. “Selling lipstick.”

“Huh?”

“Selling lipstick.” She slid him a smile. “I’m very good at it, too. Did you know the right shade can give a woman confidence and make her feel beautiful? It can change her life.”

“Lipstick,” he repeated
as if she’d told him she sold farm equipment.

Tess shrugged. “It’s the little thi
ngs that can make a difference. I was the senior vice president of sales, in charge of the international division. I traveled the world, saw more places than I knew existed.” Why was she trying to sell him on the idea of how great her job was?
It had been great.
“And the compensation was fantastic.”

“What happened to nursing?”

There was no sense in avoiding the truth. “I couldn’t do it, not after what happened.”

“But you wanted to work with kids. How did what happened have anything to do with that?”

He meant JJ’s death, but she meant something else altogether. Once she’d lost their baby, she couldn’t be around children, and she certainly couldn’t work in a place where they were a constant reminder of what she might never have, of what she’d lost. But it was more than that. After JJ’s death, she could not work in an environment where she witnessed the fragility of life daily and the tragic, painful aftermath of those left behind.

“Tess? Answer me.”

She couldn’t tell him the whole truth, not yet. “When I was in school, I was so naïve. I only thought about the kids who survived. Oh, maybe they’d have a life-threatening condition that required treatment or surgery, but they’d get their happy ending. I’d be a part of that.” She paused. “After JJ, I realized not all of them would, and no matter how good the care was or how hopeful the outcome, circumstances could change things in a single breath.”

“That’
s called life.”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Look at me, Tess.” She slid her gaze to his and wished she hadn’t. There was anger in those eyes, and determination, and something that looked an awful lot like disappointment. “There are no guarantees. Do you think I haven’t wished a million times that I hadn’t been the one on patrol the night JJ died? Or picked up on some sign that he was slipping back?” His words pierced her, dug around until pain spurted through her like an open wound. “I should never have listened to everyone when you refused to see me and they said you needed time. I should have forced my way to you, broken down the damn door if I had to so we could deal with what happened. Maybe even get through it. But I didn’t.” He sighed, worked a hand through his damp hair. “I didn’t listen to my gut and I’ve regretted that ever since.”

She blinked hard, forced the tears to stay in place. “I’m not sure it would have changed anything.”

“Maybe not, but we’ll never know. When you took off, did you go to your sister’s?”

She nodded. “That’s how I ended up in Virginia.
Riki left shortly after I moved to Richmond. I hear from her now and again. One year she’s in San Francisco, six months later, Austin, then Charlotte. Same Riki.”

“I knew it,” he said under his breath. “
Damn it, but I knew you were there.”

“And you?
You’ve been in Philly the whole time? On the police force?”

A thin smile stretched across his lips. “Yup. Living the life.” He shrugged. “It gets old. You have to know when to get out and that’s what I did.”

“You resigned from the force?” Why hadn’t anyone mentioned this?

He shot her a quick look. “I did. You’re the only person in this town who knows that. I didn’t even tell Ramona yet. Hell if I know why I told you.”

“I won’t say anything. Where will you go?”

“No idea. Just considering my options.”

Was Magdalena an option? And if he said it was, what then? Would it matter?

“What about you?” There was an extra exchange of air before he finished
in a casual manner. “When do you head back to Virginia?”

He picked up a pen and fiddled with it,
as if her answer didn’t matter to him. Years ago, he’d done the very same thing, but the feigned nonchalance was merely a way to hide deeper feelings. Shades of the old Cash crept through these actions and Tess found herself admitting the truth.

“Well, since we’re sharing secrets, I’ll tell you one nobody else knows.
A few weeks ago, I got my walking papers and a six-month non-compete reminder. The company was sold and apparently my name is too closely associated with Her Lips du Jour to transition to the new firm.”

“Her Lips
du Jour? The women with the shiny red lips?”

She smiled. “Red is our signature color. Super sexy. Super shiny. Super pricey. That’s us, or it was
. Now it’s just them.”

His gaze slid to the pink stain on the rim of her coffee mug. “I’ve always been more of a pink man myself.” His voice turned soft and sensual when he asked, “So, when exactly do you head back to Virginia?”

Tess looked at him, offered a hint of a smile, and said, “No idea. Just considering my options.”

At 2:15
p.m
., Pop poured two glasses of lemonade and carried them onto the back deck, the very same spot where he’d had a sit-down with Tess just yesterday. What a sweet girl, but she had a hurting heart and a sadness in her soul that Pop figured had a lot to do with her ex-fiancé. If Pop had anything to say about it, and he usually had a lot to say about what went on in town, the
ex
in
ex-fiancé
would be erased soon enough, leaving only
fiancé
and then
husband.

The reason behind the ache in Tess Carrick
’s heart was coming soon for a chit-chat and a glass of lemonade. Years ago, when the days were hot and sticky, Cash used to stop by on his way to work and Lucy would fill a thermos of lemonade for him. A baggie of pizzelles, too. She sure did have a soft spot for that boy, said he had eyes like a chocolate bar and a smile that could make a girl melt. When the tragedy occurred, Lucy prayed for Cash and Tess to reconcile and later, when it was obvious that would not happen, she’d simply prayed for the boy’s safety and his eventual return.

Pop made his way back to the kit
chen and arranged a few pizzelles on a paper plate. Word had it the boy was thin as a stick and Lucy would curse Pop to high heaven if he didn’t do his part to fatten him up a bit. “I’ll take care of him, Lucy. Don’t you worry. I got lots cookin’ and I don’t mean food.” He smiled at the portrait of his wife hanging over the mantel. Those blue eyes of hers smiled back at him. “I’ll do you proud. You’ll see. I’ll get Cash and Tess back together, no matter what fancy footwork I have to use to do it.” He tapped his high-top-sneakered feet twice and murmured, “You just wait and see.”

When Cash arrived a
short while later, Pop had to agree with the “thin as a stick” comment. The Cash from eight years ago had muscles that rippled under his T-shirt and along his forearms. This one looked like a lean piece of meat cut close to the bone. “We got to fatten you up, boy.” He hugged Cash and shook his head. “You sure are a sight. All thin and rangy-looking.” He grinned and said, “But you’re still a looker. My Lucy always said you could melt a girl’s britches with those eyes.”

Cash co
ughed and turned the color of a beet. “Lucy said that?”

Pop shrugged. “What? You think senior citizens can’t appreciate a fine-looking person?” He winked. “Sure can, and I’ll do you one better.” He leaned forward, whispered, “There’s those that do more than appreciate. There’s those that
act
on that appreciation.” Oh, but the beet color turned deeper.

“Pop, please.
Spare the visual.”

Pop laughed and ushered Cash toward the deck and a rocking chair. “I’m just saying, it happens.” He slid a look at the boy. “Even middle-aged widows who have been alone for a long time might catch an interest in an eligible widower.” He paused. “Happens all the time; probably right under our noses.
Don’t you think?”

Cash
sat down and rubbed his jaw. “You mean Will and Olivia Carrick?”

“Huh? I didn’t say that, but now that you bring it up, wouldn’t that be convenient? No need to change out towels or last names.” He plopped in his rocker and nodded. “Now that’s what I call sensible.”

“We’ll see. I don’t picture Olivia Carrick letting any man share much more than a meal.”

“Hmm. I been breathing this air a lot longer than you
, and I’ve seen things I never thought would happen, and then they did. Have some lemonade. Lucy’s recipe.” He gestured to one of the tall glasses, picked up the other, and took a healthy sip. “No one in this whole town would have ever pinned Nate and Christine Desantro as the perfect match.” He slapped his knee and laughed. “Talk about fireworks. I thought somebody was gonna have to bring a fire extinguisher when those two got within forty feet of each other. But then, in between the anger and the hurt over Charlie Blacksworth, something happened.” His voice dipped, softened. “Lily was a big part of it. Here she was, half-sister to Nate and Christine, and she loved them both so much her little heart burst open and shared that love. Lily made people see what was really important in life and she helped those two realize they didn’t need to be enemies. And once that happened, well, there was another kind of fireworks—the kind that don’t need extinguishing.”

Cash bit into a pizzelle, chewed. “I know you d
idn’t call me here to tell me about Nate and his bride. You’ve got a message tied up in there somewhere, just like you always do.”

Smart boy
. “You think so?” Pop sipped his lemonade and waited.

“Yup. This reminds me of the time you heard I was racing down
Black Jack road. You told me to ‘get my tail over here’ before you called Will.” Cash laughed. “I was scared you were going to tell him and then I wouldn’t be allowed to see…”

Aha!
“Tess.”

“Right.” The boy pushed her name out as if it weighed three hundred pounds. “Tess.”

“She visited me yesterday.”

Cash shot him a glance. “Did she now?”

Pop nodded. “Sure did. She looked about as queasy as you do right now when I mentioned your name.” He lifted the plate of pizzelles and said, “Have another.” Pop waited until Cash took one before he continued, “The heart is a strange creature. It loves, it hates, it hopes. It forgives. Nobody else is gonna serve this to you straight up, so here goes. No matter what happened in the past, what you did or she didn’t do, nothing can change that. All you got is now and you don’t know for how long. I see two broken souls, afraid to trust or care again, and sure as heck afraid to love again, but dang if they aren’t hurting for each other. While you still got breath in you, there’s a chance.” His voice shifted as he thought of his dear Lucy. “No matter how hard it is or what you got to do, figure it out.”

“It’s not that easy.”

Oh, there was some serious hurt in those words. “Never is. Maybe I got it all wrong; maybe you
can
walk away from Tess Carrick and never think about her again, never wonder what she’s doing or wish you were doing it with her. My apologies if I was wrong.” He nibbled on a pizzelle and nodded. “But if that girl lives in your soul and you’re getting indigestion just thinking about being without her, then you got to do something about it. Talk. Talk again. Make her a batch of pizzelles; that always worked for Lucy.” Pop leaned forward and placed a hand on Cash’s arm. “You and Tess belong together and before I leave this earth, I aim to see you together.”

***

Less than twenty-four hours after Pop Benito’s “trust your heart” talk, Nate called and extended a dinner invitation at his house. He casually mentioned that Tess had been invited, too. What he didn’t say was whether or not Tess had accepted. Typical Nate. You had to pry information from the man and if it had to do with emotions, you better bring some heavy equipment to unearth that information.

Was the whole damn town orchestrat
ing his reunion with Tess? Bad enough Pop had given Cash the soft lecture about going after the woman he couldn’t forget, but who else was in on it? The Bleeding Hearts Society? Will Carrick? Christine Desantro and now, even Nate? At least he could count on Ramona to stay out of his business, though if she said anything on the subject, it would be an attempt to steer him away from Tess. His aunt blamed her for Cash’s leaving and for the coldness in his heart. He guessed she’d been right on both accounts, but what would she think if she knew Tess Carrick might be the only one who could
warm
his heart? Maybe the only one who could make him stay in Magdalena, too?

Could he trust Tess again? Give her another chance like Pop said?
Would Tess want that? He hated the indecision; it put him in a foul mood, and yet, whatever might or might not happen between them, could not be rushed. Not even for Pop Benito and his many followers.

Cash accepted the dinner invitation because he wanted to meet the woman who had made Nate Desantro human
. She must be quite a woman to achieve that feat. People probably said the same thing about him, and no doubt, they inserted Tess’s name in the “quite a woman” slot. He had another reason for accepting the dinner invitation; it was a chance to see Tess.

He could deny and complain and get angry, but he wanted to see her again. That thought didn’t sit well, but so what? Nothing much in his life was sitting well at the moment
; why not one more aggravation? And while he was making himself miserable, why not call Tess and offer to drive? If she were going, that was, and something told him she wanted to see the reformed Nate Desantro….and maybe she wanted to see Cash, too. Before he could overthink the situation, he picked up the phone and called her. There’d been a breathiness in her voice when she spoke, as if she were pleased to hear from him. The breathiness spread when he offered to pick her up and drive to the Desantros’ if she were going, which she was.

And now, here they were, traveling in Will’s new pickup toward Nate and Christine Desantros
’. Cash had picked up a bottle of wine and Tess held a bouquet of flowers on her lap. He’d worn the new jeans Ramona had insisted on buying him and a navy polo. No worries about being underdressed with someone like Nate. The man was all about comfortable and casual, which made marriage to a Blacksworth such an unusual match. From what Cash remembered, Charlie Blacksworth was loaded. He guessed you just never knew…

“I’m curious to see what Nate cooked.”

Tess’s voice covered him with its soft silkiness, doing unwelcome things to his groin. “Nate?”

She laughed. “He’s the cook in the house.”

“Damn, the guy cooks and is crazy about his wife. Next you’ll tell me he changes diapers, too.”

“I think he does.”

“Who would have thought it?”

“
Is it really that hard to believe Nate’s a good husband?”

Cash turned up the Desantro drive and said, “It’s hard to believe the guy’s a husband at all.”

“Well, I think we’re about to witness true marital bliss.”

He parked the truck and
grabbed the bottle of wine, then glanced at Tess. The sun filtered through the trees, casting a glow about her face that shimmered like an angel. His angel…his beautiful angel… “Tess,” he breathed and leaned toward her…

“Welcome!”

Cash jerked away and turned toward the door of the cabin. “Husband of the Year” stood on the porch, a smile on his face, and damn it, a baby on his shoulder. “Hey, Nate.” Cash opened the truck door and moved toward Tess’s side, but she hopped out before he could get to her, sending him a shy smile and then moving toward the cabin.

“Nate! It’s so good to see you.” She extended her hand and smiled up at him.

Nate grinned and pulled her against him in a quick hug, careful not to disrupt the sleeping baby in his left arm. “How are you, Tess?”

“I’m great. It’s been a long time.”
She darted a glance at the baby. “Who’s this?”

Nate’s voice softened. “Anna.”

“That’s a beautiful name.”

Cash
thrust a hand toward Nate and said, “I heard some sick rumors about you cooking. Back in the day, you only made hot dogs and boxed mashed potatoes, and that was a challenge.”

Nate raised a brow. “Don’t tell my wife. She thinks I was born with a
spatula in one hand and a frying pan in the other. Speaking of Christine, we better get inside before she burns the rolls.”

Christine Blacksworth Desantro possessed a mix of beauty, intelligence, and class that made Cash wonder how the hell she’d fallen for Nate. But as he watched them together, the absent
-minded touches, the lingering gazes, the compliments and smiles, he figured it out. Christine made Nate a better man, and he cherished the hell out of her. Cash guessed their relationship was built on a solid foundation of trust, respect, and forgiveness. And love, couldn’t forget the obvious.

He glanced at Tess who was laughing at some story Christine and Nate had been telling her. Her
blond hair shimmered under the soft lights just as it had in the truck, seconds before he leaned forward to kiss her…and didn’t, thanks to Nate and his poor timing. It probably would have been a mistake to kiss her so soon anyway, because damn it, he couldn’t get his head around what he felt for her or what was going on between them.
Or what he wanted to go on
.

And that was really screwing him up. He guessed the real question might be did he want a
relationship like Nate and Christine’s, which led to more questions. Was he willing to do what he needed to, as in open up and share what was going on his head? What guy willingly did that? None that Cash knew. But it sure as hell looked like that was part of the recipe. Damn.

When Tess looked at him, he almost felt like the man he’d been eight years ago
: full of ambition and plans and a boatload of dreams. Could he ever feel that way again? And what about her? She’d done more than sell lipstick these past several years. He’d seen it in her eyes. There was something she wasn’t telling him, something sad and lonely. Something she regretted. Well, he had regrets, too, and demons that visited him at night. If they were going to build anything, they had to pull out the demons and own up to them. That meant Cash would have to admit the real reason he left the force. He bolted down the rest of his wine and pushed away the thought. Not happening. Not now, maybe not ever.