Outside The Lines (Love Beyond Reason Book 2) (14 page)

Caught in the headlights and thrown for a loop, Maria smiled and gave a little wave to the group of women inside the salon. “Hi.”

Colleen took her arm. “This is Andi, she owns the place. She’s been a dear friend for years.” She leaned in and whispered, “She’s been my gossip monger, keeps me up to date on all the goings on in town. And Sylvia over there is her number two. And she gives a wonderful scalp massage. When you’re more comfortable and settled, you must come down for a shampoo and cut.”

“You come down any time, dear. First cut’s on the house.”

“Thank you, Andi. It was nice meeting you, and you too, Sylvia. I’ll be sure to come in for your magic hands.”

Sylvia barked a laugh. “You do that.”

13

David stretched, felt a sharp jab against his spine, and then the discomfort of sand rubbing against his left butt cheek. His shorts had ridden up when he finally fell asleep on the beach last night. The driftwood he’d been using as a seat to watch the sky darken had become the uncomfortable support at his back.

He rubbed a hand through his hair, the small bits of sand biting into his scalp.

Prying his eyelids open, he had the first glimpse of the sun, coming up over the horizon. Instead of getting up, he sat for a minute, elbows on his knees. He wanted this place. Without knowing it, the resort had become his out, his extracurricular activity…a hobby? Over the years, he’d bought and sold. But what he really wanted was to own and run. He wanted something to call his own.

The feeling was branded on his brain.

It was his, his dream. No matter what bullshit Tammy pulled or Valiant tried, he was going to get this place. A pipe dream. He sighed.

He should have waited to leave Maria. The unsettled feeling in his gut hadn’t gone away. The unworthiness he felt now made his demands in California pompous.
Ass-ish.
She was his wife, but only because he was incredibly lucky…not because of anything he’d done right.

He had to get back to her.

Getting up, he brushed as much loose sand from his shorts and shirt as he could. He looked around for his canvas tennis shoes, picked one up off the sand dune and dug the other one out from near where he’d been lying. Right next to the mostly full bottle of scotch. He didn’t bother putting the shoes on, just retrieved the drink and trekked up the beach toward the resort.

He didn’t care about the wrinkles in his shirt, the sand in his hair.

When he hit the patio and pool, he saw Donald sipping a morning cocktail at a table to his right, and as he closed in, Donald’s expression went from easy-going to shock…to a little bit wary. “Rough night?”

“You could say that.” The scowl came without effort. “I want this place, and I’m willing to sign—today, right now.”

“Well,” Donald wavered. “I need to look at the counter offer.”

His scowl deepened. “This is bullshit, Donald and you know it.”

“Now, come on, David.” Donald frowned. “It’s not like you to get spooked over a counter offer. It’s part of the business. You’ll hear from me before anything final happens.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the other company right now.” He blew out a breath and calmed his racing heart, forced himself to think. “I have some things to take care of at home. And, I don’t like unexpected unpleasantness. Valiant is unpleasant. And they wouldn’t know what to do with this place anyway. Tammy specializes in residential real estate. I want to own and run this place. Let her fucking buy it, if she wants. She’ll be looking to sell within the year, and I’ll snatch it up for half the price.”

Donald’s brow rose. He shuffled papers around on the table in front of him and quickly made neat piles before standing. He stuffed the papers into his briefcase. “Guess I have a few calls to make. You’ll hear from me soon.” He looked around with a nod. “It’s the perfect spot on the coast. It’s been well-managed, well-run for over twenty years. You could do a lot worse in the way of real estate down here.”

“I know. It feels right. I like a good feeling.”

After Donald left, David looked for Tammy but didn’t find her.

He didn’t know what he planned to do or say, but the need to put her in her place had grown in leaps and bounds over his long, restless night. Finally, after searching the pool and the bar, David made his way to the front desk. “I’m looking for Tammy Gorman.”

The young lady behind the counter clacked away on the computer, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, sir. There’s no one here by that name here.”

“Did she check out last night?” Maybe she’d left after the fiasco.

Clickety-clacking again. “No sir. There’s been no one here by that name in the last month.”

David scowled. She hadn’t been staying here? She’d come just to torment him. “Thank you.”

The woman smiled, her glance his way friendly and maybe a shade too appreciative. Or maybe he was going crazy. Did he have a sign on his head that said easy and sleazy?

He didn’t like this new David Tammy had introduced him to. Never in his entire life had he been more than a regular, red-blooded male. He’d always at least cared for the person he was with, and he’d never paid for sex. So, why all of a sudden did he feel cheap and dirty?

He couldn’t wait to see Maria and get his hands back on her. When he was with her, he felt…whole. She didn’t look at him and see the man everyone else saw. He’d never had a woman search him out, want him like she did. And that made him want to be a better man, be the guy he let loose on those rare occasions when investing in a relationship didn’t mean risking everything.

He grabbed his packed bag and left, glad for the premature departure when he ended up with a layover in Newark and a weather system coming through the northeast. He’d be lucky to make it home at all at this rate.

If he’d waited to leave until tomorrow, after signing for the hotel, he’d have been stuck in Jersey, twiddling his thumbs.

And that was not going to work for him.

~*~

Maria woke up late, rolled over in her bed, and stared down at the tiny bump of her abdomen. She pressed her hands against the swell and then rubbed circles over her skin. She’d bought a few items the day before. A cute pair of maternity jeans and a couple of shirts. Her doctor in Red Bluff told her it would be about three or four more weeks before she really caught anyone’s eye as pregnant. Especially since this was her first.

David had noticed it though. Of course, they’d practically been mauling each other in the kitchen. She grinned.

After the
heart-warming
meeting with her father-in-law yesterday, she wondered if she should have stayed in California. But, no. Colleen made up for that, and with David on his way back, her tension had eased. Now it was just the ache of wanting him to be here.

With a small growl, she pounded her pillow. She hated feeling this way, hated being so needy.

With no other excuse but laziness to stay in bed, Maria finally got up.

Right away, she saw a small manila envelope sitting in front of the door, as if it had been slid under from the hallway side. She frowned, pursing her lips. Something about it reminded her of Mr. March and the residual feelings from their meeting the day before. He wanted to pay her off. She wasn’t a fool. He’d have offered her a check to leave and never contact David again.

Maria hesitated to pick the envelope up. Who would be sending her something? Who would have slid it under the door instead of just handing it over to her when she woke up?

A look at her watch showed it was ten thirty. That
was
pretty late. Mrs. Kraus might have left to go to her knitting circle.

Crouching, she touched the corner.

Her name, nothing else—no address, no return address. That could only mean someone here had left it for her. Standing, she did what she didn’t want to do, did what instinct and gut screamed at her not to. She opened the envelope, reached in, and pulled out a small stack of photos.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to David, all suited up and looking so handsome. She brushed his face with her finger. There was a smile, not like when he laughed, but something more subtle, and he held a glass of liquor. He could be on the cover of GQ, she thought.

She shuffled the first to the back of the pile, and her heart stopped. Without a sound, she shuffled again, one then another and another. Images of her husband—with Tammy. The last one, so strikingly stark, with the sun setting behind them. He was kissing her. His hands held her arms, and she was practically bare in the mini-skirt and bikini top.

His gaze was intense on that woman.

Even as Maria’s head swam, her fingers tingled, and her stomach turned, she stiffened her spine.
Brave.
Strong.

He would come home.

She would ask him about this. Their agreement had included fidelity, and he had promised.
He’d also left, you stupid ninny
.
And he never promised love. Without love…what else was there?

The easy feeling she’d woken up with was gone, and in its place pain.

But more than pain, because she loved him. She saw the Chevy-driving, old-lady-helping man in there. His need to please his dad and let go of a painful past with his mother. Perhaps let go was a bit of an exaggeration, but he wanted something better for his own family, which was why he married someone he didn’t love.

He doesn’t love you!

She swallowed the cry and looked around the room she’d made home in the last weeks. It was never an easy task to admit defeat, admit a mistake. Picking up the photo of David and Tammy entering a hotel room, she fisted it, crumpling the damn thing with a bitter, strangled cry. And then she threw it.

Foolish dreams of making him love her, of their marriage aging like wine and getting sweeter with the years, mocked her in that photo.

Quickly, she got dressed, adding an extra layer under her loose-fitting jeans. The sweatshirt from home covered the thermal and a t-shirt. She put her tennis shoes on and wished she’d thought to buy a pair of boots yesterday.

She hurried downstairs, grabbed her coat and gloves, and left through the backdoor. The kitchen was empty. The house was quiet as if everyone had deserted her. But she didn’t care. She had hours before he came back, and she was not going to spend it in this house…even if she had to walk to town and get a room with Mrs. Boehler.

But evidence of a path in the backyard drew her that way and led her to the treeline on the north side of the property. When she passed a shed on her right, a man in the window waved to her. The caretaker was middle-aged, probably late forties. She hadn’t said two words to him, but he’d been in and out, speaking with Mrs. Kraus. Whenever Maria showed up, he’d move on his way with a nod and a smile. Not very talkative.

As she walked, it occurred to her she’d let exercise go since being pregnant. Not on purpose. Hell, she’d been so danged tired in the first two months, she was only now getting her feet back under her anyway.

The fresh air invigorated her as she took a deep breath to banish the bad…and she prayed. For the first time in a long time, she prayed for the strength to do what was right. And to know what that was. To her, it didn’t matter that they hadn’t been married in the church. They promised each other and exchanged vows.

They were married.

As she neared the tree line, the snow got deeper. Looking back, she could see she’d made quite a trek already.

“Oh.” From the back, the house looked just as gorgeous as it did from the front. Perhaps even more so. There were trellises along the walkways, and she imagined in the spring they would be rich with flowers and greens. More white lattice rose along the stone wall where the tallest peak came off the house. And she studied it for a moment, trying to place her own room and David’s, the den off to the left where the large windows stretched across the lower level.

A beautiful light snow began to fall. A winter spell that made the ache of everything she’d wanted and might have to give up squeeze her heart, like a vice. She turned away and followed the trail into the trees.

14

October

David tossed the last of his tools in the back of the truck. Last year he’d made a trek to Texas but it had been cut short by the sale in Sacramento. The place had needed extensive renovations, updating and remodeling. He was still on the fence about keeping the property. So, for the first time in almost five years since working for March Industries, he was using his time on the road as a business trip. Partly.

The situation did not make him happy. But Grandpa was off the grid again, and his dad had finagled his wishes into a demand. Unfortunately, the demand made sense, and checking up on the hotel would take just a day or two, while he was in Red Bluff.

The giving in made resentment grind against his backbone.

Grow up
. He liked his lifestyle, enjoyed the benefits of the wealth his grandfather and father had acquired and earned. If he wanted to keep it, it was time to let go of the idea that he could walk away. And maybe, just maybe, this would be his last trip.

He needed to settle down. Get serious. His dad had started making hints about the next step, wondering what he planned for his life—marriage? But he hadn’t had a serious relationship since Van—in Connecticut, and knew getting married would never be for him. But his dad was right. There had to be an heir—

Shit.
The fact that the word even crossed his mind gave him the heebie-jeebies. This wasn’t fucking England. He wasn’t some silver-spooned Charles—no, William. “What the fuck ever,” he whispered to himself.

But no matter, his dad had one son. His grandfather had one son…

And when all the bullshit was set aside, he knew that’s what everyone was thinking. Settle down. Find a nice girl. Have a baby or two.

His stomach actually curdled at the thought.

He cleared his throat and looked up when a little Audi drove up the drive way and parked behind his truck. His mom got out. His gaze went from her to the woman still sitting in the passenger seat.

Hell, he hadn’t let himself think about his mom at all in a long time. She’d quit the letters in the last year, too. So her appearance in his drive unsettled him. Oh, he was aware enough of her to know she lived in the neighboring town and practiced medicine at a clinic there, but inside, apathy displaced the anger. He had nothing. Not forgiveness or sadness. Just…a big fat nothing.

“What do you want?” He checked for his wallet in his back pocket and stepped around her to his side of the vehicle.

“You’re leaving.”

He turned to her. “And…”

“Um, well. I—” Mom cleared her throat. And he frowned. She wasn’t usually indirect or hesitant to have her say. “I’d thought we could have lunch. Coffee.”

David made a show of checking his watch, but inside his heart pounded like he was a school boy again. Pissed him off, too. “I’m on my way out of town. Won’t be back until the end of the month.”

“Right.” She cleared her throat again and glanced back at the woman in the car.

“What, Mom? Just spit out whatever it is. I need to get on the road before Dad finds me and gives me one last form to sign and then I end up sitting and reading the small print for the next forty minutes.”

She laughed, nervously. “Right.” She paused. “I love you, David.”

Everything in him drew back as if she’d slapped him. The reaction was juvenile instinct and threw him for a loop.

Her hand slipped into the purse on her shoulder and she pulled something out then stepped forward, took his hand in her own, and placed a small box in his palm. He noted the large, very shiny ring on her left hand.

She’d remarried, finally.

“This is yours now. It was your grandmother’s first. And it goes to the March women, down the line.”

David frowned. “I don’t need this.”

“You will.”

But he shook his head.

“Keep it. It’s worth a fair amount of money.” Her smile then was sad, but she reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “When you’re ninety and old and crotchety so that no woman will ever have you, you can sell it and finance that cruise ship for a good long sail around the world.”

He tucked the ring box into his pocket. “I really need to go. Trying to make Pennsylvania before nightfall.”

She nodded, her lips pressed together and the tell-tale sheen of tears in her eyes. “Have a safe trip.”

“Thanks.”

She turned back to her car.

“Mom,” he said, feeling hollowed out but wanting to fill that space, too. “Thank you, really.” For saying
I love you.
For being there even though he’d thrown her affection back in her face, over and over.

“No problem.” And then she was gone.

The resentment of the last eighteen years sat heavy on his heart. He didn’t want it anymore.

As he got on the road, he put it all out of his mind and let Aerosmith drown out thoughts of his own happiness. His wants. His needs. His desires…

Had that really only been five months ago?

It was like his mother had known what was coming. That was unsettling, to say the least, yet also in a weird way, comforting. Perhaps they were connected on some level, and maybe that’s why he’d refused to get rid of all those letters over the years.

The closer to home he got, the harder his pulse pounded. He’d texted and called several but gotten no response. The snow was falling heavily as he pulled into the drive and noted that his dad’s car was also here. Good. He wouldn’t have to drive into town.

He came into the kitchen and was met with silence. “Maria?” he called out to her. “Maria!”

Mrs. Kraus poked her head out of the laundry room as he hurried down the hall toward the front of the house. “Haven’t seen her in a while. Maybe she found the library?” She folded a towel in thirds. “Welcome home, by the way, young man.”

David’s forward motion stopped and he turned back to kiss the housekeeper on the cheek. “Thanks.”

Her gaze narrowed on him, and he felt a blush rise on his neck.
Stupid.

“Mmhmm,” she said, nodding her head. “I knew it.”

“What?”

But she just shrugged.

At the front hallway, he turned right down another narrow hallway that led to a tall, just-as-narrow doorway. Inside was the library. Nothing obscenely large, it was a room packed to the gills with shelves from floor to ceiling. Dark mahogany woods and deep burgundy tapestries. As a kid, it had always reminded him of being on a ship. Or what he’d imagined a ship would be like. The two porthole windows high on the walls reinforced that idea.

The sitting area in the corner was empty. No one sat in the wingback chair or lounged on the floor against the over-sized pillows.

David made his way upstairs and threw open the door to his room, but it was also undisturbed. He frowned as a bad feeling settled inside him. She hadn’t come back here when she’d returned from California. A part of him had thought…maybe, because of their night together and the connection that seemed so strong whenever they were on the west coast…she’d be with him here, too.

“David.”

He turned to his father, immediately suspicious. “What happened here? Where is Maria?”

“I’m sure she’s around somewhere. She wouldn’t leave her sugar daddy.”

A rage streaked through him.

“She’s been living it up while you were gone. Withdrawing cash, shopping to her dear heart’s content.” Dad’s words came out on a sneer. But David’s thoughts veered into a completely different zone. He’d meant to add her name to an account. Even in the first week after she’d arrived, but so much had happened he’d forgotten.

“Fuck.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything to that girl.”

David strode by him and down the hallway to the guest bedroom. “She has her own money, Dad. She’s never been a tramp or a gold-digging hussy, ever.”

“She’s not one of us, son.”

“She’s mine!” He whirled around. “And if you’ve done anything to hurt her, I swear—”

He opened the door to her room. The bed was unmade and clothes were strewn about, as if she’d, what? Thrown a temper tantrum? No. Not Maria.

And then he saw them—the photos, the manila envelope, and his father’s small neat handwriting. His heart sunk and his hand shook as he picked up one of the photos. “How—?”

“There’s one thing I’ve never been able to get across to you, David. It takes more than business smarts to run a business, and those you’ve got. But you have an image to keep—in this town, with your clients. I won’t have you ruining the face of this business with that woman, with a child you still don’t know is yours—for sure—”

“I’m sure—”

“Naïve.” His dad interrupted, shaking his head in disappointment. “It was easy enough to have you followed, and easy enough to convince Tammy you needed help.”

Pressure built against his breastbone. “You, you…you’ve ruined everything.”

He clenched his fists, the ache to take a swing so strong he stepped forward. He didn’t care about what was right or wrong.

“Now, David—”

“Shut up,” he yelled, but his gaze was caught by the dark line of a shadow in the backyard. He hurried to the window. A trail. “Oh, no.”

He began a quick search of her room for anything—shoes, jacket…her gloves.

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m looking for something,” he answered with a bite to his voice he’d never used with his dad before. Nothing. “She left, took a walk. Just walked out the back door after getting…this!” David shook the ugly evidence at his father. “And it’s supposed to start blizzarding in the next hour.”

“She’s probably fine—”

“Don’t,” he started as he left her room and headed back to his own. David hurriedly changed into winter gear and then ran down the stairs. He made a quick stop for his long coat and grabbed an extra set of gloves and a scarf. “Mrs. Kraus,” he called as he passed the laundry and walked into the kitchen.

She grinned from her place at the counter where she was organizing a pile of note cards. “Did you find Maria? She’s been so anxious to have you home.”

“No, but…did you see her come through here?”

“Well, she woke up late today.” Mrs. Kraus dropped the cards. “I assumed she’d found something quiet to do. She wasn’t in the library?”

“No. I saw footprints in the backyard. I think she left.”

“Oh, my dear. It’s really snowing now. Even if she stayed to the trail…” Her words faded on the horrible unspoken thought. “Call your grandfather. He can track from the cabin.”

David left the house and hurried to the trail, which existed since before David was born. There were parts of it that had been paved, parts that were laid with railroad ties, and still other parts so worn and overgrown a person might not see it at all.

His parents had never worried when he got the itch to visit Grandpa. And adventure would begin. He’d strap his little knife to his belt and pack a bag over his shoulder. But he’d been a boy, who was raised in these woods. Maria was…not.

He loved it here, and loving it, knew how dangerous it could be—in the cold, in a storm. More than an idiotic tourist or two had lost their life to the winters here. His feet crunched over dead wood and iced snow. And still, he followed her footsteps as he took his phone from his pocket.

“Tanner here,” his grandfather answered the phone, and David knew that he stood at the fireplace and the small table with an old rotary phone on it.

“Grandpa,” he spoke, blowing out a breath of relief. “I need your help. I got home and my—wife,” Crap. He almost said friend, because he wanted to hide the truth, and avoid what he really felt—shame; he’d cut himself off, even from his grandpa— “Maria, went for a walk. I’m following her trail, but the snow is really coming down now.”

And he thought of all his dad had said about Maria, and what Tammy had said about him. Maybe he was a bastard. He hadn’t even told his grandfather he’d gotten married. “I’m really worried.”

“Dark-haired woman, about five five? Slim? Pretty?”

David stopped on the trail. “You have her?”

“Well now, she’s here,” he answered with a laugh. “Why don’t you make your way, and you can
have her back.
”

“She’s okay?” David asked, as the tension fled his bones and his feet sped up on the slick ground.

“She’s fine. Fired up but fine.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll be there soon.”

He stuffed the phone into his pocket and ran through the tall pines and bare eastern oaks, which opened up to a clearing. Snow and fog obstructed his view. His hands were frozen in his gloves. His jeans, without thermals under them, were stiff against his skin.

But he knew his grandpa would have water on the stove and a firing roaring in the fireplace. If he was lucky, Maria would still be here—steaming mad. He didn’t care if she was angry at him, as long as she was safe and unharmed.

He stomped his feet on the wood planks that crossed the front porch, and the door opened in front of him.