Beguiling (Tempting #2) (22 page)

W
hen the light
in my bedroom turned from black to gray to the soft yellow of the sunrise, I rolled out my bed. At most, I’d gotten three hours of fitful sleep. Every time I’d shifted on my bed, punching the pillow underneath my head, I thought about Scarlet, wondered about her dad, then rolled through the things she’d said to me before taking off.

Fleeing was a better word, actually. Not that I could blame her. I couldn’t really be mad at her for what she’d said, though the words seared into my brain almost twelve hours later.

You’ve done nothing but distract me all summer … I’m so
stupid.

It actually would’ve been easier if I could be mad at her, if I could’ve fought back against what she said. But I couldn’t. No, the thing that tied my tongue down and shackled my ability to get defensive against the daggers she’d slung at me was a bone-deep shame.

I hadn’t given her one reason to believe that I actually cared for her. Not one. And among the thousands of new, terrifying thoughts that I had for her, I’d only given her vague statements and indistinct declarations.

So I couldn’t really blame her for viewing me as a distraction. Nor could I blame her for her silence. Of course, I was hoping that it meant her phone had died, or her dad was doing so well that she wasn’t even thinking about anything that was going on outside of the hospital.

But it still left me feeling uncomfortable, how we’d left things. I dressed quickly, grabbing the first clothes I set my hands on and made my way downstairs. My mom had always been an early riser, and when I turned the corner into the kitchen, she looked up with surprise from her seat at the kitchen table.

“You’re up early.”

“Yeah,” I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee. I added a pinch of sugar and blew on it before sitting across from her. “I’m guessing you heard about Pastor Jennings.”

She hummed, nodding her head. “It’s so sad. I was actually texting with Margaret a little bit ago.”

“How is he doing?”

The smile she gave me was sad, and it made my mouth dry out. “He’s still in ICU. He was stable last night, but I guess they had a rough morning. They’re still trying to figure out the extent of the damage from the stroke.”

My head jerked up. “A stroke? I thought it was a heart attack.”

She lifted her eyebrows at my tone, but nodded. “It was both. He had a mini-stroke, a TIA, and that triggered the heart attack. How did you know already?”

“Scarlet told me. We uhh, we met up with Adele last night and she got the call while we were still together.” I took a sip of coffee, my mind racing. They weren’t in town, so it wasn’t like Scarlet and her mom would have visits from church members, or other family members, which I knew they didn’t have many of anyway. Obviously I didn’t know a lot about strokes, or heart attacks, but I knew they were serious. Serious enough that he was in Intensive Care. “Mom, do you know what hospital he’s at?”

“Sure, why?”

I pushed my chair back a bit and scratched at the back of my neck. “Can I borrow your car?” Ugh, I fucking hated asking that. It made me feel like a child, more than staying in their house all summer did.

“Leo—”

“For a couple days?”

Comprehension dawned in her eyes, then her face softened into a smile. “Honey, why do you want to drive down there?”

I tilted my head to the side, raising my eyebrows like
really, Mom
?
You can’t figure this out?

“You two are,” she swallowed, and the way her eyes brightened, the way her tone rose with excitement made me sad. Just a little, because who knew if Scarlet even wanted to see me. “Are you dating?”

“Don’t get too excited, Mom,” I said carefully, turning my coffee mug counter clockwise. “But … but I like her. A lot, actually. And she’s probably feeling like she has to be really strong for her mom. That’s got to make it hard to process anything for herself.”

“I would imagine so.” My mom propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand, pinning me with a serious look. “But if you go, Leo, you better make sure you’re only doing this for her. Now isn’t the time to make some grand declaration, if you haven’t already.”

I laughed, the sound empty of any humor. “Trust me, no declarations have been made. She probably wouldn’t even believe me right now if I did.” I shook my head, then rolled it around on my shoulders. “I just want to be there for her. Make sure she’s okay.”

“Is it too soon for me to pretend she’s my daughter-in-law?”

“Yes,” I said, standing up from the table. I took another sip of my coffee before dumping the rest into the sink. “Now can I borrow your car?”

“No, I need it.”

“Mom, the train will take forever.”

“I know,” she said lightly, regarding me over the rim of her mug. “What if I give you your Christmas present early?”

“It’s July.”

“Very early, then.”

I leaned up against the counter, trying to stifle the frustration at still standing there when I wanted to be
leaving
, getting there as quickly as possible. “Okay, what’s my Christmas present?”

“Your father and I will buy you a plane ticket. I’ll book it while you go throw some things in a bag, but you better
promise
me you won’t bitch on Christmas Eve when you have nothing to open.”

I grinned, yanking her up from the table so I could wrap her in a hug. “You got it. I don’t even care that this entire conversation makes me feel like I’m fifteen and you just gave me permission to go have a sleepover.”

She laughed and cupped the side of my face. Her skin was still warm from holding her coffee mug. And then she blinked rapidly, her blue eyes looking shiny and wet. “No matter what she feels about you showing up there today, I’m proud of you. You may be a gigantic pain in my ass sometimes, especially when you’re off crashing cars, but this is a moment where I will gladly claim you in public.” Then she pecked me on the cheek and pushed me away. “Now go pack. And don’t forget to take some clean underwear!”

“I am absolutely going to pretend like you didn’t just say that to me,” I called over my shoulder while I fucking ran from the kitchen. I took the stairs three at a time, feeling a sense of relief for the first time since Scarlet ran from my room.

T
he drive
to Logan was a blur, the flight felt even faster, and by the time the plane jolted to the runway at Reagan National Airport, I felt like I’d been awake for about three days straight. I should have tried to sleep on the relatively short flight in, but my brain never stopped. And of course, one of the things that it kept looping around my head was that Coach was probably ready to string me up. By the time I landed, workouts had already started, so he knew I was a no-show.

Since I hadn’t checked a bag, I left the plane and jogged to the airport entrance to flag a taxi.

“MedStar Washington, please,” I said to the cab driver, who didn’t give me a response, just accelerated from the curb so fucking fast that I lurched to the side of the car. “Yeah, no problem, I’ll just buckle up a second before I die.”

I was just pulling my phone out to call Coach when his name magically appeared on the screen.

“Shit,” I whispered before bringing the phone up to my ear. “Hey, Coach, I was just about to call you.”

“You better hope you were about to call me. Because I’m staring across this field and don’t see the one person I should see out of the whole damn team. Where the hell are you, Madsen?”

“Well,” I said, grabbing onto the handle in the ceiling of the car while the cab took a hard right, “it’s kind of an emergency situation, and I just landed in DC.”

“What the
hell
?” Then he moved his mouth away from the phone to bark at someone on the field. “Move your ass, Johnson!”

“I know.” I dropped my head back onto the cheap material of the head rest. “It’s a … a friend of mine, and her dad had a stroke yesterday. And I just need to be here for her.”

He was quiet on the other end of the phone, which probably should have made me nervous. But it just erased any doubts I might have had about whether I was doing the right thing.

“Coach, I know this isn’t okay, but I had to make a choice this morning, and I’m choosing to be there for someone who I care a great deal about. And if you need to bench me for a game or two at the beginning of the season, then do it. I’ll own up to whatever consequences you might have for me.” I could hear him breathing through the receiver, and I blew out a breath. “Look, you always tell us to act like men, that if we want to be respected, then we have to act in a way that demands it first. And I’m trying to do something that will let her know that I respect her more than anything else right now, and I’ll be there for her no matter what. Isn’t that what a man would do?”

“Oh for crying out loud, Madsen, save the sermon. I’m not gonna bench you.” Then he cleared his throat. “But yes, that’s what a man would do. You made a good choice, kid. But you better believe I’m gonna work your ass into the ground when you get back.”

I laughed. “Yes, Coach. That’s fine with me. And thank you. I appreciate it.”

When I hung up, the taxi screeched to a halt underneath a huge metal, concrete and glass overhang. Tent-like peaks of glass made the sun filter through to the pavement in odd shimmers when I stepped out. I handed the driver his cash and slipped my backpack over my shoulders.

I wandered through the large doors and into the sprawling lobby until I found the information desk. While I waited behind an elderly woman looking for information on her granddaughter, I had a moment of pause. My mom had told me he was in the ICU, but wouldn’t they restrict that to immediate family? While the women ahead of me continued to talk, I leaned around and was very relieved to see a woman that was probably in her late seventies manning the desk.

Old ladies? They fucking loved me. A flash of the dimples and a genuinely spoken compliment, and they’d give me just about anything I wanted. When it was my turn, I gave her a small smile.

“I love that pin you’re wearing; it looks exactly like something my mother has.”

She looked at me over the edge of her purple rimmed glasses. “No need for flattery, Dimples. Just tell me what you need.”

“Ah, right.” I rocked back on my heels. “The room number for Robert Jennings please, he’s in the ICU, I’m just not positive which room.”

“And your relation to the patient?” She clicked away on her keyboard, no longer looking at me.

“Son-in-law,” I said easily, very fucking glad I’d tucked both hands into the front pockets of my jeans in case she decided to look for a ring.

“So that would make…” she trailed off, raising an eyebrow at me. Okay, she wasn’t dicking around.

“Scarlet Jennings. His daughter, that would make her my wife.” I smiled. “She kept her last name, obviously. She’s
very
independent.”

“Obviously,” she said, but gave me a genuine smile, and then handed me a slip of paper with the information I needed. Careful to use my right hand to take it out of her outstretched hand, I thanked her and headed in the direction of the ICU.

The hospital was busy, and I had to slow my pace around families with strollers and crying young kids yanking on their parents’ hands. People carrying handfuls of balloons and bouquets of flowers gave me apologetic smiles when they walked in front of me.

Oh shit, was I supposed to bring flowers? Or balloons?

No. I shook my head and followed the signs toward his room. If Scarlet saw me clutching a handful of balloons, she’d probably question my sanity. As would I.

“Leo?” I turned at the sound of Mrs. Jennings voice to my right.

“Ahh, Mrs. Jennings. Hi.” Lame. I sounded so lame.

“Leo.” She shook her head. “What are you doing here?”

I closed my eyes. Honesty. She deserved honesty. “I wanted to be here for your daughter. And you, if you need it.”

Her mouth dropped open, but she recovered quickly. I’d never seen her looking so disheveled, so tired. Her face was free of make-up, the wrinkles around her eyes more pronounced under the harsh lighting of the hospital. “Good. That’ll be good for her.”

“How’s your husband?”

“Stable, thank God. We thought he might need a stent put in after his heart attack, but there wasn’t enough blockage in his arteries. He’s still got some weakness on the left side of his body, and his speech is slurred, but the doctors are optimistic about that fading.”

“Good.”

We stared at each for a second before she smiled. “How did you get the room number?”

“Ummm, well, apparently I’m your son-in-law today. But don’t tell Scarlet, because she might strangle me to death with a hospital robe.”

She laughed, then reached out to give me a brief hug. I patted her back a little awkwardly. “Oh, that feels wonderful. I haven’t laughed in two days. Thank you, Leo.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Glancing down at her full coffee cup, she looked up and gave me another smile. “You know what? I’ll just drink this down here for a while. Give you a few minutes before I intrude.”

“You don’t have to do that; I don’t want to keep you from your husband.”

But she shook her head, already turning to go back into the cafeteria. “The change of scenery will do me good, don’t you worry.”

I thanked her and turned to keep walking. The whole thing felt like a Twilight Zone moment. In a hospital I wasn’t familiar with, heading toward a woman that I wasn’t even sure wanted to see me, and I was perfectly content with it. All of it. Scarlet may still be mad at me, then I’d wait around the corner, out of sight, until she wasn’t. That’s what felt weirdest of all—that I wasn’t the slightest bit uncertain about whether I should be there anymore.

When I turned the next corner, I saw her. The seating area was fairly empty, and she was curled into an overstuffed chair, her knees tucked into her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She looked so small, so pale, that my chest felt tight and achy. All I wanted to do was wrap myself around her until I knew she was warm and happy.

She didn’t see me approach, probably used to the bustle of the hospital around her. Her eyes were staring blankly ahead until I crouched down next to the chair.

“Scarlet?”

Her face snapped over to me, eyes wide and confused. “
Leo?
”

She unfolded her legs, and I set a hand on her knee once her feet hit the ground. “How are you doing, church girl?”

Then she crumpled, dropping her head into her hands, quiet sobs shaking her slim shoulders.

“Oh shit, I already screwed it up, didn’t I?” I muttered to myself, rubbing a hand down her back. Then she lifted her head and wiped under her nose. She looked so sad and beautiful, smears of mascara under her tired-looking eyes.

“You really came?” She sniffled.

I nodded, smoothing her hair down with my palm. “Is that okay?”

In answer, she pushed from the chair and sank down on o the floor next to me, immediately curling into my arms. I held her tightly as she cried her quiet, contained tears, and it still didn’t feel tight enough. If it had been possible, I would have pressed her under my skin if it would have made her feel better.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered against her hair. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, Scarlet. I promise.”