“Aww….”
“Like when I have a hangover.”
She smiled. “There you go with those compliments again.”
He shifted closer to her, his voice lowering, his gaze trapping her. “Not all men are the same.”“Maybe not.” She shrugged.
For one long moment, he stared at her, a faint frown between his brows, the corner of his mouth pulled tight. Very quietly, he said, “The man was an idiot to let you and Ryan go.”
What did she say to that? Taylor swallowed. Clearing her throat, she picked at the tabletop with her fingernail. “Glad you noticed.” She raised her eyes back to him. “I’m sorry. You’re really nothing like Charles.”
Silence stretched, then, “Are you going to open the letter?”
The envelope lay there, pulling at her, begging to be opened. She shook her head. “No, I’ll just throw it away. Or read it later.”
Gavin tsked, and gave her a small half-smile. “Neither of those is smart. One because she might have mentioned something in there that could lead to her getting into trouble when pointed out to the correct authorities. And two, I hate to think of you reading something the mere sight of upsets you alone. Why read it and brood by yourself when you can read and unload on me, then get a good night’s sleep?”
She could read it. What he said made sense. Well, the first part anyway. She wasn’t exactly sure how to take the second half.
Taylor sighed and ripped the letter open.
Dear Ryan,
How is your new life? Must be nice to get to choose a new family, a new mom. Though, you
should know that no one can be a mother to you like I can. Only I know the real you. No one else
does. No one. I try not to think of you too often with Mrs. Shepard. Nope, don’t like to go there. I
45
only get mad. And you know what happens when I’m mad.
I’m in a class for my drug addiction and to help me control my anger. I’m finding a new
me. That’s what we’re supposed to do anyway. New me. New you. Who knows what the future
holds. When I get out, we’ll be together again.
I hope your arm has healed up real good. Hate for you to be deformed or something. That
would suck if you looked weird. How’s the cut on your face? You know, you can’t really blame
me for that. That little spill was your fault. If you hadn’t jerked away none of it would have
happened. Better yet, if you hadn’t been listening to what you shouldn’t have, none of it would
have happened. Did it leave a scar? I hope so. That way you will always remember to mind to
your mother.
You know I’ll be up for parole in a few years. After I get a job, you can live with me. They
took you away and I promise, if it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll get you back. You are mine.
Well, it’s lights out in a few minutes, I hope you get this. You can write me back if you
want. You should write your mother, you know. I haven’t heard from you yet, and I’m hoping
that’s HER fault and not yours. Would love to hear from you, just don’t talk to me about that
Shepard bitch. Don’t wanna hear about that. And remember no matter where you go, no matter
what you do. You’ll always be mine. As that old saying goes, blood is thicker than water, or in
your case—ink. Ha ha.
Love, Mom
No way in hell was Ryan going to read this. Taylor could only shake her head as the words stared back up at her, reminding her of the woman in the courtroom screaming obscenities.
Of the monitors bleeping in the hospital. Of Ryan screaming out in the night or flinching away from offered love because he didn’t know that love didn’t hurt. Not real love.
“You okay?” Gavin’s deep voice pulled her back.
Deep breath. Anger pumped through her. “Yeah, I am.” She looked up into his dark eyes filled with concern. Whatever was between them was easy and comfortable, in a strange complex way. Well, most of the time. Gavin could be patient and soothing, something, she admitted that was all too foreign to her. Yet, he also pushed all her buttons and made her want to either strangle him or kiss him. Another foreign thing.
Maybe she didn’t know as much about love as she thought. She had loved her parents, but that was so long ago she couldn’t remember exactly how that was. But she knew what love with Ryan felt like. She wondered how mutual love between man and woman would be like. Between friends. What difference did it make? Love is love is love.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.
Taylor laid the letter back on the table, caught his quick glance at it before he looked back up to her. His hand came up and grasped hers. She liked this, sitting here talking about things that bothered her with her hand clasped in his. The smells of dinner mixed with his spicy cologne. It felt right, and that worried her.
“Talk to me.” His quiet voice was cajoling and persuading, no impatience, no teasing jibe.
“Why?” What if Charles had been right and she simply wasn’t made to be a wife? No. She was
not
going to give that man credit for anything. Wife? Where had that thought come from and what difference did it make?
46
A cocky grin danced up to crinkle the corners his eyes. “Because you can’t resist me?”
Taylor only shook her head at him. “You don’t want to know.” With barely a moment’s hesitation, she handed the letter out to him. “Want to read it?”
Did he want to read it?
Hell yeah, but then again he wanted to know what Taylor had been thinking just a moment ago. There had been a look in her eyes that he thought he read wrong. Surely he must have, pain and confusion, mixed with hope. Gavin didn’t know what to think. He’d come over to ask Taylor out for dinner or drinks, but was sitting here at her table in this cozy blue and yellow kitchen.
“Do you want me to?” Gavin didn’t want to pry, he just wanted to understand.
“Doesn’t matter to me.”
Still looking in her light brown eyes, Gavin reached out and picked up the letter. He saw her glance towards the oven.
“I should finish dinner.” Taylor stood up and went to the counter.
Before he started the letter, he asked, “What can I do?”
“Nothing.” She turned and gave him a smile, though her dimples were faint and it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes.
Gavin scanned through the letter. Disbelief, bafflement, and rage mixed his emotions.
“What does she mean by his arm healing and a scar?” Gavin had a sinking feeling. He’d noticed the shiny pink scar marring the upper left portion of Ryan’s face. He glanced up at Taylor, momentarily lost in her simple grace. She moved fluidly, and she was only dumping broccoli into a steamer. For some reason, that Gavin didn’t care to contemplate on right now, he could just sit and watch her do the ordinary or the extraordinary. Taylor dusted off her hands on a dishtowel.
“That….” Her mouth frowned, and still her dimples winked at him.
Those damn dimples would be the end of him.
“Well, that would be why she’s in prison basically. The shortened version is that the adoption was halted two days short of completion and then a judge gave her one last chance.
Nina took off with Ryan.” She leaned against the counter and gave the towel she was twisting her undivided attention.
“For how long?” he asked.
“I didn’t see or hear from him for almost three days. Those were the worst days I’ve ever had. Then the hospital called at three a.m. Seems something had happened, though no one knows exactly what. Ryan’s arm was broken, his shoulder dislocated, two cracked ribs and his face was lashed open where he either fell or was thrown through a plate glass window. Nina was tripping really well. Apparently had spent days on speed, to the point the police said she was hallucinating.”
“God.” Gavin couldn’t imagine.
“Yeah.” She turned and tossed the towel on the counter top. Steam rose from a pot on the stove and she dumped the rice in.
“Were you alone? Had the divorce gone through yet?” And why did he care? Like that would make it any easier.
Taylor looked back at him over her shoulder. “No, it hadn’t. Though for the first question, I might as well have been. Charles couldn’t have cared less. Trash and riffraff was what he
47
considered Ryan and Nina and I guess me, too. I don’t know, don’t really care. He stuck with me long enough for the adoption to be finalized and then another month after that before the divorce.
He couldn’t wait to get on with that curvaceous secretary of his. Of course the rumor was that who could blame him? What man would want a wife who….” She stopped. “Well, somehow it got placed all at my feet.”
Damned bastard. “As I said, I don’t care for your ex.”
“That makes two of us, honey.”
Honey? She called him honey? Gavin smiled, he caught the slight pause of her movements as she mixed the pot after what she said must have hit home. He wouldn’t mention it, let it slide.
Honey. He liked that. And it was said with smiling vowels. Hunee.
Gavin took a drink of his tea. What else had she been about to say?
What man would want
a wife who
?
Who what? What man wouldn’t want a woman like her?
Where
in hell had that thought come from?
Didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he was thinking of Taylor as
his
woman. Just someone’s wife.
Anyone’s woman. Though, he didn’t really like that thought either. Damn.
“Hope you reamed the son of a bitch really good in the settlement.”
She shook her head and it caught the lights in the kitchen, reflecting red and gold.
He wanted to feel those strands, wanted to run his hands through those locks. They had to be as soft and silky as they looked. Had to.
Gavin grinned to himself, glancing back at the table and saw the letter. “Poor kid. At least he has you.” With a silent curse at people who would hurt their own children, he folded the notebook page and stuffed it back in the envelope.
“Thank you,” she said, turning back to the counter.
Feet pounded down the hallway and sneakers squeaked near the doorway. Taylor whirled, probably to grab the letter, but Gavin stuffed it into his pocket just as Ryan came bursting through the doorway. Her eyes reflected her relief.
“Is dinner ready yet?” Ryan asked from the doorway. “Oh.” Ryan stopped and stared. “Hi, Gavin. What are you doing here?”
“Hi,” Gavin answered him. Taylor’s face told him she’d seen him get the letter and the stark fear he’d seen there for that split second bothered the hell out of him.
Ryan shuffled into the kitchen and Gavin stood, offering his hand to the boy. Ryan stared at it for several moments before he finally grasped it. He caught the slight hesitation. However, now that he understood some of Ryan’s past, the distance between them wasn’t that surprising either, even if they had talked several times on the phone.
The table remained between them.
“Hmm.” Ryan looked at the table, then at Gavin. “I take it you’re staying for dinner.”
Was that a question or a statement? The flat words held no emotion, so there was no way for Gavin to tell if Ryan was happy about the addition or not. “Yeah, your mom invited me. I hope that is okay. I stopped by to ask her to dinner, or rather both of you to dinner since it was last minute, but she said dinner was in the oven.”
Ryan studied him for a minute, obviously weighing something. “I think you wanted to take Taylor out by yourself. Otherwise you wouldn’t have called so much lately.”
Smart kid. Gavin gave him a smile. “Okay, you’ve got me. I was going to see if I could
48
take your mom out, but now looking back, that wouldn’t have been exactly right. Maybe I should’ve called and seen if you wanted to have a guys’ night out. Catch a movie, or go to the arcade or something.” What in the hell was he thinking? Arcade? He’d taken Tori, his niece, and one of her friends to an arcade once and vowed to never, ever do that again. It was exhausting keeping up with kids.
Ryan’s smile lit his entire face, the blue eyes dancing with delight. “I bet that would be lots of fun. Can Taylor come?”
Looking at Taylor, he saw a soft smile playing on her face as she studied both him and Ryan.“All right. I suppose we can have a girl tag along. But one day it will just be us guys. Pizza, burgers, fries. Lots of root beer and junk food.”
“Cool.” Ryan plopped down in the chair beside Gavin’s. “That sounds great.”
Taylor laughed again as she removed pans from the stove, drained the contents and bowled them before setting the dishes on the table. She the fridge and grabbed a salad and dressing.
Gavin, red-blooded male that he was, could do nothing but admire the way her jeans molded to her cute little derrière. With a booted foot, she kicked it closed.
Watch her all day indeed. Maybe all night too. There was a thought. More like a fantasy, one that had plagued him night and day since one Saturday evening when the waters of fate delivered her into his hands. Time to think other thoughts.
“What are the two of you doing tomorrow afternoon? Say three-thirty or four?” Gavin asked, mentally calculating his last appointment, which was the one-thirty. Then, he had to check a couple of patients at a couple of hospitals before he was going to head up to his parent’s place this weekend. Spend some time with everyone. But he could leave later for Seneca, spend some time with Taylor and Ryan. Maybe visit a museum or something, grab a quick dinner.