My Favorite Mistake (20 page)

In the bathroom, I swept aside the torn shower curtain and broken rod and lowered myself to the edge of the tub. The amount of blood staining the white tile floor was distressing, but when I stuck my foot under cold running water, I was relieved to discover it was actual y a smal wound. Stil , my eyes overflowed and I was shaking. My engagement ring glittered from the vanity. I reached over and picked it up, then slid it onto my finger, my tears coming in earnest now.

“Are you okay?” Redford said from the doorway.

I looked up, then hastily brushed at my cheeks and nodded. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” I pul ed the shower curtain over me—it was much too late for modestly, but stil .

“Let me take a look,” he said gently. “To make sure the glass is out.”

I yielded, lifting my foot and swiveling. He cradled my foot in his big hand, then pinched open the cut. I flinched.

“Sorry,” he said, then patted my foot. “But it looks clean. Let me see if I can find a bandage. I’m sure Sam has plenty of supplies around.” He rummaged in the vanity, then

removed a bottle of peroxide and a box of adhesive bandages.

I was stil while he dressed the wound, my throat and chest tight. He occasional y glanced to my left hand, at the ring, but he didn’t say anything.

“Does it hurt?” he asked final y.

I wiped at more tears, but shook my head. I couldn’t tel him why I was crying. I wasn’t even sure myself.

He made a rueful noise. “It wil in the morning.”

I swal owed in resignation.

I was pretty sure that everything would be hurting in the morning.

17

KENZIE OPENED
the back door when I knocked the next morning. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I said with as much nonchalance as I could muster considering every muscle in my body screamed with pain.

Her smile was questioning, but she simply sipped from her coffee cup while I fol owed her into the kitchen.

“You’re limping,” she said, pointing.

I stacked the unused clothes that Sam had loaned us on the table and lowered myself onto a bar stool. “Um, we had a little accident last night.”

“We?” she asked.

I squirmed. “I hope the furnishings in the apartment weren’t family heirlooms.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you set a fire, too?”

“No, thank God. But one of the beds is broken, the shower curtain is torn and the curtain rod snapped…and the floor lamp is history. Oh, and there are a few, um, bloodstains

on the carpet.”

She frowned. “What?” Then she gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about the furniture, it’s al secondhand. But what on earth did you two do over there?”

My face flamed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

She handed me a mug of coffee and smirked. “Is he as big as you remember?”

I took a deep drink. “Yes.”

She gasped, her eyes dancing, until she spotted my engagement ring. “You’re stil wearing your ring?”

I shifted on the stool. “I took it off…
during.
Now things are…back to normal.”

She looked worried. “So that’s it, then. This thing with Redford was just a fling?”

“Right. It was always just sex between me and Redford. This was…my last hurrah before settling down.”

“So he goes back to Kentucky—”

“And I stay in New York, where I belong,” I finished.

Footsteps sounded in the mudroom, ending our conversation. Redford stuck his head in the kitchen. “Sorry, I knocked.”

I busied myself drinking from my cup. Mine and Redford’s conversation this morning had been brief and stilted. Worse, I could barely look at him without wanting to go at it

again. I was pathetic.

“We don’t stand on ceremony here, Redford,” Kenzie said. “Come on in. Coffee?”

He wore his hat and coat, and his cheeks were red from the cold. “Sounds good.” He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “I started the truck to warm it up. Looks like the roads wil be fine for the drive back.”

“Good.” I had cal ed my office from the clinic and told them I wouldn’t be in today.

Kenzie handed Redford a cup of coffee and he thanked her. “Sam’s truck is gone. Has he left for the day?”

Kenzie nodded. “He asked me to give you his regrets. He got a cal about an expectant cow mom in distress on a farm across the county.” She grinned. “I figure if I get as big

as a cow with this baby, he’l feel right at home.”

“Are you feeling better this morning?” I asked, standing.

“Much.”

“Are you coming back to the city this week?”

She sighed. “I hope so. I have to admit, I’m getting cabin fever on this mountain, especial y since it’s too cold to go outside. I miss the city. And you girls.”

I gave her a hug. “Cal me when you get back and we’l have lunch.”

“You bet,” she said. “Redford, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

He nodded and thanked her for the hospitality. “Good luck with the baby.” He smiled. “And with the foal.”

She fol owed us to the door. “Good luck to you guys tomorrow on the audit.”

I closed my eyes briefly—one more thing to dread.

The drive back to the city was, shal I say,
loooooong.
If we exchanged ten words, it was a lot. We listened to music and I plowed through the rest of the tax documents. But even though we didn’t talk, Redford’s body communicated with mine, sending out vibes that kept my senses on edge. Scenes from the previous night kept flashing into my mind. By the time we began to see signs for the city limits, I was almost frantic to be away from him.

“I left some cash in the apartment to cover the damages,” he said suddenly.

“Oh…that was good of you.”

“How’s your foot?”

It throbbed. “It’s okay, just a little sore.”

He rol ed his shoulders. “I’m sore al over.”

I averted my gaze to my hands…and my ring.

He made a rueful noise in his throat. “I have the distinct feeling that you have regrets about last night.”

I exhaled slowly and looked out the window. “Don’t we al have regrets about things in our lives?”

“Absolutely. Vegas, for instance.”

My chest tightened. “Right. Vegas.” At least we agreed on one thing.

I was never so happy to see my apartment building. Redford pul ed in to a rare empty parking space in front, then reached across the seat and picked up my hand. The gesture

was unexpected, and sent my pulse spiking.

He rubbed his fingers across my palm. “Denise, I’m sorry about last night.” He glanced up with a wry smile. “I feel like I’m always saying I’m sorry.”

I swal owed hard. “Redford, you don’t have to apologize. You gave me a choice, and I made my decision. I went to you with my eyes wide open.” I just hadn’t realized my heart

had been ajar, too.

He looked thoughtful and kept stroking my palm, sending little shivers up my arm. “It wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position.” He turned my hand over and fingered my

engagement ring. “I know you feel guilty about what we did. I feel as if I’ve stormed through your life…again…and messed up your plans.”

I didn’t say anything, especial y since I could barely speak when he touched me like that. He was trying to apologize for last night, and heaven help me, al I could think about was him kissing me again.

And suddenly, he
was
kissing me. First tenderly, then hungrily. We devoured each other, our tongues parlaying, our lips sliding, our teeth clicking. He hauled me across the seat into his lap and I ran my hands over his chest, his arms, drove my fingers into his hair.

“We could do it right here,” he murmured raggedly, unbuttoning the top button of my blouse.

A memory chord vibrated…the very words I’d said to Barry, tempting him to do something naughty…

But when Redford stroked my nipple, I was wil ing to do anything he asked.

I loved him, I realized with a burst of adrenaline.
I loved this man.

I returned his kiss like a starved woman, our hands roving, hunting for buttons, snaps.

A sharp rap on the window startled me—and Redford. My first thought was that it was the police and we were about to be booked for public indecency. But when I saw the

astonished face of the person on the sidewalk, my stomach bottomed out.

“Mom?” I whispered.

“Mom?” Redford said, his voice panicked. “That woman is your mother?”

“And that man is my father,” I murmured, utterly and completely horrified to see them staring in at us. Although, in fairness, they looked equal y horrified. I slid off Redford’s lap, straightening my clothes, gasping for air. “Omigod, omigod, omigod. Redford, when I get out, just drive away.”

He frowned. “I’m not going to drive away like some teenage kid. I’m going to introduce myself to your father.”

I was starting to hyperventilate. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We’ve done a lot of things this weekend that weren’t particularly bright. Come on.”

There was no time to calm myself. I opened the truck door and climbed down, my heart jumping in my chest at the sight of my parents standing there, the epitome of upper-

middle-classdom in their prim winter resort wear, surrounded by suitcases, looking shel -shocked.

“Mom…Dad…what a surprise.”

My mother drew herself up. “That’s obvious, dear.”

“We tried to cal you,” my dad piped up, “but you weren’t answering your cel phone, or your phone at work. We thought we’d take our chances and see if you were home.”

“I th-thought you were in
England.
”

“The weather was miserable, so we decided to cut our trip short and stop here on our way home to congratulate you—” her eyes cut to Redford suspiciously “—on your engagement.”

I wanted to evaporate. After a few seconds of gluey silence, I cleared my throat. “Um, Gayle and Harrison Cooke, this is Redford DeMoss.”

Redford removed his hat and shook their hands. “How do you do, ma’am, sir?”

“And how do you know our Denise?” my mother asked sharply.

Oh…my…God.

Redford turned to me, his mouth slack with surprise. “Ma’am, I’l let Denise explain it.” Then he put his hat back on his head. “After I leave you folks to enjoy your reunion.”

Without being asked, he picked up the suitcases and carried them to the landing, then came back and tipped his hat. “Ma’am…sir…Denise.” He looked at me, his eyes hard.

“I’l see you tomorrow morning?”

The audit…of course. “I…I’l meet you there.”

He nodded curtly, then climbed into his truck and drove away. My heart caved in when I saw him glance in the rearview mirror, then look away. Watching him leave was jarring to my senses. But I would have to get used to it.

I turned and gave my folks the best smile I could manage under the circumstances. “We need to talk.”

My mother gave me a disapproving look. “I believe so.”

I couldn’t even bring myself to look at my poor dad—no doubt to his great relief. As we entered my apartment, I experienced age regression. By the time we had deposited their

suitcases in a corner of the living room, I felt about twelve years old. The day of reckoning had arrived—the day my parents discovered that little Denise, squeaky-clean honor student who never caused them a day of trouble, wasn’t perfect after al . Not even close. I thought I might be sick.

We had barely removed our coats before my mother crossed her arms and demanded, “Denise,
who
was that man you were
kissing
on the street?”

I turned to look at them and sighed. “Please sit down.”

They sat on my couch and looked at me expectantly.

I took a deep breath and on the exhale said, “Redford and I were…married.”

My mother clutched her chest.
“What? When?”

“Three years ago.”

She shrieked and grabbed my father’s arm. “You’re
married,
and you didn’t even tel us?”

“No,” I said, holding up my hand. “We
were
married. For six weeks. I had the marriage annul ed.”

My father looked completely lost. “Is that legal?”

“Yes. It means our marriage never happened.”

He lifted his hands. “Who is this man and how did you meet him?”

Another deep breath. “I was in Vegas for the holidays. He was a Marine, on leave from the Gulf. That’s where we met and…were married.”

“In
Vegas?
” My mother looked horrified. “Harrison, it’s our fault. That’s the year we went on the Bahamas golf trip with the Sutherlands. If we’d stayed home, Denise would have been with us and this would never have happened.” She teared up. “I didn’t want to go on that trip—it was your idea—and just look what happened!”

Dad handed her his handkerchief. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Oh, Denise,” she cried, “tel me the wedding at least took place in a church, not in one of those tacky chapels.”

I winced. “It was in a tacky chapel.” I cleared my throat—in for a penny, in for a pound. “Actual y, in the drive-through.”

My mother looked faint. “Harrison, get my heart pil s.”

My dad dutiful y reached for Mom’s purse and rummaged through the various prescriptions before handing her a bottle.

“Did that man take advantage of you?” he demanded. His face turned red. “Were you…with child?”

This was going wel .

“No, Dad, no. Redford was…is a complete gentleman.” I thought of the scene they’d witnessed outside and swal owed hard. “Ninety-nine percent of the time. We got married

on the spur of the moment and when I came back to New York and he went back to the Gulf, we realized we’d made a mistake. That’s al .”

“That’s al ?” my mother asked. “Denise, marriage isn’t something to take lightly.”

I balked. “I know that. I’m not proud of what I did, which is why I didn’t tel you.”

“I don’t understand,” my dad said. “If you had the marriage annul ed, then what is that man doing here?”

“He had to come to New York because our joint tax return is being audited by the IRS. We have an interview in the morning.”

Now my dad looked truly horrified. “The IRS can ruin your life.”

My mother’s head bobbed. “Do you remember the McGoverns? Their 1040 form went astray and they lost their house. The IRS came and threw al their things out in the yard for