Authors: Sherryl Woods
Startled and disappointed that he wouldn’t be joining her, she warned herself not to show it. “How can you possibly have that much energy to spare?” she said, too cheerfully. “I’m drained.”
“I’m not sure I do. If you hear me yell, I trust you’ll come save me.”
She gave him a considering look, then forced a grin. “Yeah, I suppose I would.”
He chuckled and left her then. Uneasy and unable to explain exactly why, Kate didn’t linger under the steamy spray, even though it felt wonderful. Something inside nagged that she and David ought to be talking about what had happened, not suddenly ignoring it. She sensed that his retreat in that bed a few minutes earlier had been more than just physical. There had been something in his eyes, a shadow of regret perhaps, that reminded her that she should have heeded all those warnings to stay away. She toweled herself dry, then remembered that her clothes were still in the pool house.
Wrapped in the oversize towel, she started to walk back into the bedroom. Then she saw David standing beside the bed, head bent, shoulders slumped. A man in real torment. At first she wanted to run to him, but then she realized what had captured his attention so completely. He was holding a silver-framed picture in his hands. She’d noticed it herself earlier on the bedside table. It was his wedding picture.
She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes as she imagined the agony of regrets churning through him now. Reminded that the past few hours had been only an interlude, she felt her heart ache far more than it should have, given all the stern lectures she’d given herself lately. Obviously, intellectually knowing something was a far cry from the gut-wrenching pain of experiencing it emotionally.
It shouldn’t have mattered. She had never wanted anything from any man, least of all this one. Clutching the towel together as she debated what to do, she finally admitted to herself that she had lied.
It was a lie that was going to cost her dearly.
Chapter Thirteen
I
f nothing else over recent weeks, Kate had learned a couple of valuable lessons. Nothing ever got solved by shoving it into a closet and ignoring it. Her own problems with her family, and Davey’s problems with his father, were proof of that. The wounds had festered far longer than they’d needed to.
With that in mind, she crossed the bedroom until she was standing next to David. Careful not to brush against him, she said quietly, “She was very beautiful.”
A sigh shuddered through him. Without turning to look at her, he said, “Yes. She was.” He opened the drawer of the nightstand beside the bed and started to put the picture inside.
Pushing her own feelings firmly aside, Kate stayed his hand. “Don’t.”
His gaze, dark with anguish, clashed with hers. “It’s time to let go of the past. Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me for weeks now?” he said angrily, slamming the drawer closed, the picture inside.
“Yes,” she said evenly, opening the drawer and taking it back out. She placed it carefully in its former spot on the nightstand. “There’s a difference between moving on with your life and locking the past away as if it had never happened. What message would it send to Davey if he saw that his mother’s pictures had all been shoved away out of sight? He’s already afraid to mention her for fear of upsetting you.”
For the space of a heartbeat, he looked taken aback. Then, if anything, his eyes flashed even more stubbornly. “Surely one of those pop psychology books at your house has a chapter on grief,” he said sarcastically. “Perhaps you should look it over. I suspect it says that everyone handles grief in his or her own way.”
Kate tried not to lose her temper, but he was so damned bullheaded and irritating. “That’s true,” she shot back. “But you’re not
handling
it at all.”
She thought for an instant he might lash back at her, hoped for it, in fact.
Instead, he simply said coldly, “What would you know about having your life shattered? You’re always in control, always so certain of what you should be doing, what everyone should be doing. I’m sure you refuse to allow any little ups and downs.”
Kate winced at the unflattering image. All too recently, however, his description would have been on the money. After her breakup with Ryan she had sought control, prided herself on it. But that hadn’t always been the case, and she had paid heavily for that mistake, just as it appeared likely she would pay again for having fallen in love with a man who wasn’t ready to give himself to anyone.
“You’re wrong,” she said. “You see, a long time ago I fell in love with a man I was sure was the man of my dreams. We were in law school together, but he dropped out, decided that there were other ways he could help the poor and downtrodden. I thought it was the most idealistic decision he could have made. I was very proud of him.”
She watched David for a reaction. His expression was stony, his gaze directed at the floor. She plunged on anyway, hoping something about the rarely told story would get through to him.
“It didn’t stop me from finishing school, though. He thought I would join in his fight, but I didn’t. I had always wanted to go into a big law firm. I had wanted to be a powerful divorce lawyer, not because I wanted the money or the fame, but because I wanted to be there for women who gave everything to a marriage and then, it seemed to me, were always getting taken when it came time for a settlement.”
She smiled ruefully as she thought about what had happened after that. “We lived together. I volunteered with some of his causes at first, but then my own career took off, and I had less and less time. He took it personally, accused me of selling out. Finally he told me he was leaving. I guess by then I wasn’t all that surprised, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.”
Now at last David was watching her intently. “There’s more, isn’t there? What happened then?”
“A few days later, while I was still mourning our lost dreams, I received some legal papers. He was filing for palimony. He wanted a cut of everything I’d earned. He figured it was his due for letting his career take a back seat to mine.”
The disgust was evident in David’s expression. “How the hell would he figure that?”
“It’s amazing how facts can get twisted to suit someone’s purposes,” she said with a shrug.
“Did you give him what he wanted?”
“I wanted to rip his heart out. I wanted to drag him through the entire legal system and show the world what a lousy creep he was. I was persuaded it wasn’t in my own best interests. We settled out of court. Pragmatically I know it’s what I had to do to avoid a scandal that could have hurt my career, but it’s a decision I still regret.”
She met his gaze. “I’m sure you’re wondering what this has to do with you and Alicia, but I am trying to make a point. What happened with Ryan made me angry and bitter. Ironically, it probably made me an even better divorce lawyer. It gave me my go-for-the-jugular edge. At any rate, I allowed it to color every choice I’ve made—or not made—about relationships. In other words, I stopped living, and for all the wrong reasons.”
She reached up and touched his cheek. “You have happier memories. You know how wonderful love can be. That won’t change if you move on with your life. It won’t be a betrayal of Alicia. If anything, it will be the opposite, a testament that what you shared lives on in you.”
His expression instantly hardened, deliberately shutting her out. “I really don’t want to discuss Alicia,” he said adamantly. “I’m going for a swim.”
He walked off and left her staring after him. Kate saw then that for all of their closeness that day, for all of the physical intimacy, one very real barrier stood between them. Alicia.
Until David could deal with his grief, until he could bring his memories into the open and discuss her with Davey or Kate or anyone else, a part of him would remain locked away and unreachable. It wouldn’t matter what he believed about having moved on.
If she tried to force David to discuss Alicia with her, he could easily call her motives into question. Urging him to have those same conversations with Davey, however, was another matter altogether. Davey needed to talk about his mother, he needed to remember those times before she got sick and he needed to share his grief not with Kate, not with strangers, but with his father.
And no matter the cost to her, she was going to see that it happened. Bringing Alicia’s name into the open so the healing could begin would be her final gift to the two of them.
* * *
From a chair in the shade beside the pool, his head throbbing, David watched Kate slip from the bedroom to the pool house wrapped only in a towel. Even after making love to her twice already this morning, he wanted her again. His body, primed by recent reality rather than distant memories, responded like an adolescent’s, with hard, urgent need.
Unfortunately, given his behavior not ten minutes earlier, effectively telling her to mind her own business, he doubted she was going to be too anxious to accommodate this sudden need he had to hold her in his arms again.
When Kate emerged from the pool house, he fully expected her to mumble a polite goodbye and take off. Instead, she strolled over as if nothing,
nothing,
had gone on between them. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and sat down opposite him as if she’d just dropped in to chat about the weather. Puzzled, he waited for the verbal knife to be unsheathed and aimed at his belly. He watched her uneasily.
“Expecting Davey soon?” she asked.
“Any minute now.”
“Good.”
“You going to stick around?”
“If you don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “I don’t mind.” What he minded was this sudden, cool inanity, but he couldn’t think of a blasted way to end it. Actually, he could think of one way. He could finish the conversation she had tried to start inside. Given that alternative, he opted for silence and watched as Kate slipped farther and farther away, lost in her own thoughts.
He glanced up and saw Mrs. Larsen bustling toward them. If she had any clue about what he and Kate had been up to, it didn’t show in her stoic expression.
“I thought I’d clean up these dishes if you’re finished,” she said. “Need to get things done around here if Davey’s going to have those boys over tonight.”
He glanced at Kate. “I don’t need anything else. How about you?”
“Nope,” she said, giving Mrs. Larsen a smile. “Thank you, though. It was a lovely breakfast.”
The housekeeper nodded. “You staying for lunch?”
“I would like to see Davey,” Kate said, glancing at David.
Which caught him between a rock and a hard place. He wanted her out of here so he could get his equilibrium back, maybe even figure out what the hell she was up to now. At the same time he wanted her to stay, so these thrilling new off-balance sensations would last. “By all means, stay,” he said. “Davey would be furious if I let you get away before he sees you.”
If Mrs. Larsen sensed the undercurrents, she ignored them. “I’ll be fixing something around one o’clock, if that’s okay.”
“Something simple,” David said. “I know you’re baking all those cookies for tonight.”
“Yes, sir,” she said and lumbered off with the tray of breakfast dishes.
“So, what’s happening tonight?” Kate inquired.
“Davey’s having a sleepover. Eight of his friends are coming. I’ve given Mrs. Larsen the night off. Otherwise, I’m afraid she’d quit.”
Kate’s expression turned wistful. “I think it sounds like fun.”
David regarded her skeptically. “Fun?”
“Sure. Ghost stories. Games. Lots of cookies.”
“Don’t forget the pizza.”
“Pizza and cookies,” she said, nodding approvingly. “Every kid’s dream menu.”
“You know,” he said slyly, “if you play your cards right, you could wind up as a chaperon.”
Instead of backing down instantly as he’d anticipated, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she beamed, as if the whole idea genuinely appealed to her. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Mind?” he said, refusing to examine the consequences of having this woman in his home overnight…in a guest room. “I’d welcome the prospect of adult conversation.”
“Not from me. I intend to tell ghost stories, too.” She looked uncertain. “Do you think Davey will object?”
“To your being here or to your sitting in on the ghost stories?”
“Either one.”
“I think he’ll be ecstatic to have you around. As for the ghost stories, it depends on whether you know any really scary ones.”
“I think that between now and tonight, I ought to be able to dream up one that’ll have them all hiding under the beds. What about you?”
“Forget the ghost stories. I was thinking of spending the entire evening under the bed with earplugs.”
“No. No. No,” she said, her eyes unexpectedly alight with laughter. “You have to get into the spirit of this.”
“Just how many sleepovers have you hosted in your time?”
“Only one, for my youngest niece. It was for her thirteenth birthday. It wasn’t any fun,” she said with obvious disgust. “All they wanted to do was practice using makeup and styling each other’s hair.”
Startled by her genuine indignation, David suddenly found himself laughing with her, letting the tension finally ease away. “Oh, Kate, you really are something.”
“I trust you’ll remember that the next time I irritate you,” she said.
“Do you intend to irritate me often?”
For an instant, she looked nonplussed, a little sad. “No.” She stood up suddenly. “If I’m going to spend the night, I’d better go home and change and pick up a few odds and ends.”
“I thought you were staying for lunch.”
“I’ll try to get back, but if I don’t make it, tell Davey I’ll be here tonight.”
Suddenly David didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts. “Why don’t I drive you? I can pick up the soft drinks for tonight.”
She hesitated, then nodded finally. “Sure.”
On the way through the house, he stopped to tell Mrs. Larsen they were going out. “Anything else you think we need for tonight?” he asked her.
“Extra toothbrushes,” the housekeeper suggested. “Kids never remember their toothbrushes.”
The instant they were outside, Kate met his gaze. “Don’t you dare buy extra toothbrushes. Half the fun of staying out overnight is not having to do all those things your parents are always insisting you do. Nobody’s teeth will rot between tonight and when they go home tomorrow.”