Have Bouquet, Need Boyfriend (25 page)

“You used me to get to know my father so you could get this job.”

His mouth gaped but guilt flashed into his eyes. “What?”

“I heard you at my grandmother’s party, Thomas. I knew you were going to

talk to my father today.”

He ran a hand over the rough stubble of his beard, looking panic-stricken.

“You didn’t have to sleep with me or bring me flowers or wine. You could

have simply asked, and I would have introduced you.” She waved her hand

around, fighting emotions. “Romancing me wasn’t necessary.”

He jerked up. “Geez, Rebecca, just listen, I didn’t-“

“You didn’t date me so you could meet my dad? Come on, Thomas.” Anger

tinged her voice now. “Once I heard you at the party, I put two and two

together. I must admit you flattered me at first, but the timing should

have been obvious, the way you showed up at the cafe at the same time my

father did that day, the way you finagled an invitation to Grammy’s

party, you even complimented my paintings-“

“I complimented your art because I liked it. You’re very talented,

Rebecca, but you hide your talent away here in this small town.”

“I like this small town. I’m happy here.” She folded her arms. “But you

charmed me, and you’re good at it, Thomas. Better than I would have

imagined, but maybe that’s because I was such an innocent little fool.”

“No.” He grabbed her arms and forced her to face him. “I admit that at

first I wanted you to introduce

me to Bert, but then I got to know you and I fell in love with you-“

Hurt knifed through her again. “It’s over, Thomas, you don’t have to

keep up this act-“

“It’s not an act.” His dark eyes flared. “I came here to tell you I love

you, and to ask you to move to Atlanta with me.”

She stared at him, the emotions in his eyes confusing her even more. “To

come with you?”

“Yes, we can get married and buy a big house in the city or the suburbs

and you can show your art there. You won’t have to work at the

bookstore. I can support us so you can open a studio if you want and

you’ll be fantastic with the committees-“

“I like running the bookstore,” she said, unable to believe how little

he understood her. He was more like her father than she’d ever imagined.

He had the drive, the ambition, the intelligence, and he wanted the wife

to help him make it to the top.

But she could never be what he wanted, what her father had wanted her to

be all these years. And she would not make herself miserable trying.

“I’m not moving from Sugar Hill, Thomas. I finally have a home.”

“Why not?” Thomas shook her gently. “We can have it all in Atlanta.”

“Don’t you understand? I have it all here.” At least I thought I did.

“I’ve never approved of my father’s trophy wives, and I certainly don’t

fit the image.”

“I want you, Rebecca, not some trophy wife.”

“Do you, Thomas?” She stared at him long and hard. “Or do you want that

sophisticated woman

who’ll raise money for the center, who’ll hobnob with the rich and

famous and be the perfect doctor’s wife?”

His throat worked as he swallowed.

“Because I like small-town life. I like owning my own business and

working with the children at story hour. I like painting for myself and

my family. I don’t need to be rich or famous like you do.”

“For God’s sake, Rebecca, this is not about me wanting to be rich or

famous. It’s about helping people.”

“Then why do you have to leave? You have a great job here. The people in

Sugar Hill respect and love you. They need you just as much as the

people in Atlanta, maybe more, because we don’t have all the choices of

medical care. So if this is about helping people or loving me, you

wouldn’t need to move.”

His heart raced painfully in his chest. He was losing her; he could feel it.

When he spoke, his voice was low, full of hurt. “If you cared about me,

you wouldn’t mind moving, Rebecca.” His voice turned gravelly, breaking.

“But you obviously don’t love me.” He paced across the room, ran his

hand through his hair, stood at the window for several seconds, then

turned, and his gaze fell to the desk in the corner. To the books on

pregnancy she’d bought months before. His gaze rose to meet hers, and

pain and suspicion flashed in the dark depths. “Are you pregnant?”

“No.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Don’t lie to me, Rebecca.”

“I’m not. I swear I’m not pregnant, Thomas. I would never lie about that.”

“But you wanted to be?”

She couldn’t very well deny it, so she nodded. “It…it all started with

that hope chest.”

A puzzled look crossed his face. Then suddenly the hurt in his eyes

flared into anger. “That e-mail-you sent away for information for

yourself. You lied to me.”

The devastation in his voice was so raw that she realized she had to

make him understand. “Thomas, it’s not how it looks.”

“You accused me of dating you to get to know your father, but you used

me, too, didn’t you? You wanted a baby, and I gave you the perfect

reason not to go to a sperm clinic. I was the real thing.” He stepped

backward toward the door, his face pale. “That’s the reason you showed

up at my door and seduced me.”

“No, at first I wanted to ask you, but I was so shy…” She clenched her

hands into fists, dug her fingernails into her palms. It was time to end

this before they hurt each other any more. “I thought you…you would

never love me. I wanted to ask you to help me, but then…”

“Then what, Rebecca?”

“Then…” How could she admit she loved him when he still didn’t want

her for herself? When they wanted such different things in life.

“Then…we sort of got involved.”

He dropped his gaze from her face then, the seed of hope she’d seen

sprout for a moment washing away with anger and betrayal. Then he shook

his head and turned and walked out the door.

Rebecca felt her heart being ripped out.

But she didn’t move, because she had no idea how

to fix what had gone wrong, so she let him take her bleeding heart with him.

Hurt, betrayal and anger bombarded Thomas as he drove to his house.

Rebecca has used him just as his mother had used his father. And when

he’d found that stupid e-mail and confronted her, she’d lied to him, and

he had believed her.

If she’d gotten pregnant, would she have sent him out of her life as his

mother had his dad?

Emotions tightened his chest as he let himself inside the house. The

empty walls screeched with silence, yet everywhere he looked and turned,

he sensed Rebecca. Her perfume lingered in the den, the sight of her

wearing his shirt while she made coffee in the kitchen as vivid as it

had been the morning after she’d spent her first night with him. And the

imprint of their bodies lying together on the pillows in front of the

fireplace would be etched in his mind forever.

He’d been a fool.

He tossed his jacket onto the cold leather sofa and picked up the phone

to call Trish Tieney, his Realtor. He’d tell her to put the house on the

market tomorrow.

Then he’d call Hannah and work out some kind of arrangement for his

patients so he could start the job in Atlanta as soon as possible.

There was nothing left for him in Sugar Hill.

Maybe there never had been.

The next day Rebecca phoned in sick. Business had slowed with the new

year, and Gertrude could handle any customers that did drop in. Besides,

.she couldn’t face the possibility of running into Thomas downtown.

It wasn’t likely, she reminded herself. In fact, he would probably be

avoiding her.

Fueled with hurt and anger and running on nerves, she spent the day

cleaning out closets, reorganizing her bookshelves and trying to forget him.

But echoes of his voice remained in her small apartment, remnants of his

compliments and tender touches and lovemaking whispered to her at the

oddest moments. Like when she’d smelled his cologne on one of her new

shirts. And when she’d gathered items for the cleaners and remembered

the way he’d looked at her in that violet dress.

And her art-she’d avoided painting, even going into her studio because

Thomas’s face flashed into her head each time she looked at an empty

canvas. She’d been so nervous about allowing him to see her art, yet

he’d immediately alleviated her anxiety by praising her work.

Had everything been a lie?

The doorbell chimed and she froze, half wanting it to be Thomas, but

knowing it wouldn’t be. Probably Jerry. She wasn’t in the mood to hear

about his newfound love.

It chimed incessantly, though, so she finally dragged herself to the

door. Instead of Jerry, her cousins Hannah, Mimi and Alison stood on the

stoop with bags of ice cream in their hands and sympathy in their eyes.

“Thomas called and told me he’s moving,” Hannah said softly.

“I’m so sorry,” Alison whispered.

Mimi looked furious. “He’s a dirtbag. But don’t worry, Bee, we’ll find

you someone better.”

Rebecca’s lip trembled. “That’s just it—I don’t

want anyone else. I-love him.”

“Ann, sugar,” her cousins murmured.

They pulled her into a group hug, and she tried to make herself believe

everything would be all right. But she didn’t think she would ever

survive losing Thomas.

And she didn’t know how she’d get over loving him.

Thomas was miserable all week.

Hannah had offered to take over his patients and had relieved him

immediately.

Apparently she wanted him out of Sugar Hill as fast as possible.

Just as Rebecca obviously did. Until the last second, he’d hoped she

would stop by to see him and tell him their whole nightmarish

conversation had been a figment of his imagination.

But that hadn’t happened. And it wouldn’t. He was too much of a realist

to expect miracles.

So, he’d checked into a rental suite at a hotel in Atlanta until he

could find time to house shop. He had already moved into his office and

would start seeing patients next week. This week had been filled with

committee meetings, routine sessions on acclimatizing himself to the new

facility and their philosophy, along with all the accompanying red

tape-he’d forgotten all the politics and paperwork attached to a

bureaucracy.

He opened a box of medical journals and began to stack them on the

polished cherry bookshelves in his plush new office. He’d have plenty of

time to keep up with journals now that his weekends wouldn’t be tied up

with a woman or a family.

Every good doctor had to make sacrifices.

He glanced around at the pristine walls, looked out the windows at the

impressive view of the city and smiled. He had achieved his goals.

So, why did he feel so empty inside?

It wasn’t as if Rebecca missed him or wanted him back in her life.

A knock on his door jerked him from his thoughts. Before he could even

reply, Suzanne Hartwell flounced in and stalked toward his desk,

brandishing a bad attitude that he didn’t quite understand.

“You scum bucket, how dare you hurt my sister like you did!” She pointed

a sharp, blood-red fingernail at him that looked lethal. “I can’t

believe you used her to get to know Daddy. Buddy, if I’d known your

intentions, I would have told him not to hire you!”

“Is that what Rebecca told you?” he asked, irked by her attitude. After

all, Rebecca had used him, too.

Not that it alleviated his own guilt.

“No, she hasn’t told me anything, but Mimi called, and I talked to

Hannah and Alison.”

“Oh, dear God, is your uncle Wiley running our personal lives on a

billboard now?”

“Don’t you dare insult my family,” Suzanne stammered. “I have a good

mind to tell Daddy what you did-“

“Then tell him how his lovely daughter used me because she wanted a baby.”

“What?” Suzanne barked out a laugh. “That’s the most ridiculous thing

I’ve ever heard.”

“But it’s true.” He stood and gripped the desk with white-knuckled

fists, then leaned forward, pushing his face in her angry one. “I went