The Secret Sin (6 page)

“I appreciate that.”

She didn’t let his charming smile make her lose focus. “Now you need to be aware that there’s a difference between going on a single date and dating.”

“I do and what we’ll be doing is dating.” He frowned. “Unless you’re already dating somebody else. Are you?”

“Not now,” she said, noting his look of relief. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll date you.”

“Then how can I get to know Lindsey?”

“The same way anybody gets to know anybody,” she said. “By being around her.”

“Nobody in town except you knows I’m Lindsey’s birth father,” he said. “It wouldn’t look right for me to be around her unless I’m also hanging around you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to argue that his argument wasn’t valid, but she still saw his point. “There has to be some other way.”

“There is. We could tell her who we are.”

Her eyes snapped open. “No! We’ve been over this. We can’t tell her.”

He trained his gaze on her. For once, he wasn’t smiling. “Then what do you say? Will you let me get to know our daughter?”

Her throat hitched. Neither of them could afford to think of Lindsey as their own, not when they’d given her away and would soon have to say goodbye again. “I already told you. She’s Ted Thompson’s daughter.”

“Not while she’s in town. While she’s in town, she’s ours. If, that is, you’ll share her with me.” His voice was low and beseeching, his handsome features strained. Annie had hardened her heart against him long ago but felt the outer layer softening.

“Okay,” she said softly, knowing she’d regret the answer but unable to give another, acknowledging that a part of her had anticipated this would happen when she’d told him who Lindsey was. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the way they had all those years ago when he’d lied and told her he cared about her. Even though he hadn’t mentioned her birthmark, it felt as though it was searing her cheek.

“See you tonight,” he said. “I’ll pick you and Lindsey up at eight.”

He unlocked the Lexus with his remote, pulled open the door and hopped inside. Within moments, he’d started the ignition and pulled away.

She stared after him, furious at herself for reacting to him.

She reminded herself she was no longer a sixteen-year-old girl thrilled that one of the most popular boys in school was paying attention to her. She was a poised, self-confident woman who’d recovered from the blow of finding out the truth about their night together.

She’d go along with Ryan’s fiction that they were dating, but she intended to set down some ground rules.

He’d hurt her once.

She was determined it wouldn’t happen again.

T
HE TELEVISION
in the family room of the gracious old house where Ryan had grown up drowned out his footsteps as he moved over the parquet floor, approaching the Queen Anne sofa from behind.

His sister, Sierra, sat with her back propped against the sofa cushions, her right leg, encased in a ski-boot-style cast, resting on a cherry coffee table.

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, then put the tissue to her nose and blew. On the television, a bright blue animated fish was swimming along with a smaller orange-and-white-striped fish in an idyllic-looking sea.

“Are you crying over
Finding Nemo
?” he asked.

Sierra’s head whipped around, guilt written plainly on features that instantly reminded him of Lindsey. She plucked the remote from the coffee table and clicked a button, causing the screen to go blank.

She wiped the tears from under her eyes. “I was not crying.”

“You were,” Ryan accused. “Who would have thought I’d find the Frost Queen bawling over a cartoon?”

“It’s an animated movie,” she said, “and don’t call me the Frost Queen. I don’t like it any better now than I did in high school.”

He sat on the arm of the sofa, enjoying this glimpse of his usually unflappable sister. “I’ll stop if you admit you were bawling.”

She glared at him. “A few tears is not bawling. And if you tell anyone, I’ll have to hurt you.”

“I should tell everybody. It’d soften your image.”

“My image is fine just the way it is,” she said. “Where have you been all day anyway?”

He let her get away with changing the subject, even though he disagreed with her self-assessment. Word around the office was that she was exceptionally bright but abrupt in her personal interactions, both with patients and staff. She wasn’t any different with Ryan. Although only sixteen months separated them, they’d never been close.

“At the office catching up on paperwork,” he said, reluctant to share the news about Lindsey.

He doubted Sierra, who’d been a freshman at Dartmouth the year Ryan studied in Spain, even knew Annie had been pregnant. Their mother had been adamant that nobody find out, and Ryan certainly hadn’t told her.

“Until seven o’clock?”

“I ran some errands, too,” he said.

She didn’t ask what sort of errands, probably because she wasn’t interested enough to find out. Ryan had moved back into their childhood home six weeks ago after Sierra had badly broken her right leg in a car accident. Most of
the time they acted like polite strangers. It might have been different had their parents been present, but their mother had moved into a retirement community after their father’s death two years ago.

Ryan stood up, reached into the bowl on the coffee table and tossed some popcorn into his mouth. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Chad’s coming over and cooking dinner for me.”

Chad Armstrong was Sierra’s long-time boyfriend. A pharmacist at a local drugstore, Chad was a nice enough guy but didn’t say much. Scratch that. A mime could outperform Chad in a debate.

“You can join us if you want.” The offer sounded more obligatory than sincere.

“I can’t,” he said, glad he had a reason to refuse. “I have a date with Annie Sublinski.”

He wondered why he’d told her that. Sierra was back at the office on a limited basis so she probably would have heard eventually. He doubted she would have asked, though.

“Wow. Really? Did she ask you out?”

“I asked her,” he said. “Why would you ask that anyway?”

“Because of the huge crush she had on you in high school.”

That couldn’t be true. Annie had hardly said a word to him until the night he’d driven her home from one of the graduation parties that sprouted up every June like the yellow wildflowers over the mountainsides. He’d been watching her closely so had spotted her ducking
out of the party after a classmate had made a drunken pass at her.

He’d followed, afraid another guy would try to take advantage of her. Once he realized she meant to walk home, he’d jumped into his car and caught up to her a short distance from the party. After she’d agreed to his offer of a ride, nothing about the evening went the way he thought it would.

Before they’d driven a mile, he’d relayed the entire embarrassing story of why he was spending his senior year in Spain. “It’s all in the numbers,” he remembered saying. “Three varsity letters. Two Cs. Two Ds. And an F.”

Annie had listened to his plan to forgo his senior year at Indigo Springs High for twelve months in a study-abroad program. She’d agreed with his parents about the need to prove he was serious about academics. She hadn’t laughed when he confessed the prospect of flying across the ocean made him nervous. She’d told him some secrets of her own, most notably about the mother who hadn’t cared enough to stay in her life.

Even all these years later, he remembered how comfortable he’d felt with her and how naturally their conversation had flowed.

When he suggested they get out of the car at a secluded spot and spread the blanket he kept in the trunk, his intention had been to gaze at the starry sky and keep up the amazing conversation.

Then he’d kissed her, she’d kissed him back and neither one of them had called a stop to their lovemaking even though they didn’t have a condom.

He’d left for Spain the next morning but had called her the moment he got there. She’d blown him off, mumbling something about a mistake even though it had been way too early to know she was pregnant.

“Annie didn’t have a crush on me,” Ryan said.

Sierra looked skeptical, but displayed the practicality that was one of her trademarks. “There’s a simple way to find out. Ask her.”

She lifted her cast off the coffee table and rose slowly to her feet. “If I’m going to be ready when Chad gets here, I need to start now.”

She hobbled off, leaving Ryan reassessing his version of what had happened that night. Could Annie really have had a crush on him? If she had, did that make what he’d done even less forgivable?

Knowing he wouldn’t rest until he found out, he decided that he
would
ask her.

O
N
S
ATURDAY NIGHT
Annie carefully eyed the windmill with its rotating arms, getting the timing down, waiting for the moment to strike.

She swung back her putter and sent the golf ball shooting toward what should have been an opening between the between the slots.

The opening closed.

The ball careened off one of the gaily painted arms and rolled back to where she stood on the turf at the start of the hole.

“Wow,” Ryan said. “I thought I was bad at miniature golf, but you’ve got me beat.”

Annie made a face at him. She wished she could blame the elbow she’d injured in the bike accident, but it was only a little sore. Her more bothersome injury was the scrape on her thigh, but only because she’d needed to wear a skirt so the material wouldn’t rub against her skin.

“You really think you’re better than Annie?” Lindsey asked him. “How about when you almost beaned that little kid on the fourth hole?”

Ryan waved a hand in dismissal. “Could have happened to anybody.”

Annie had kept quiet long enough. “
We
were on the third hole at the time,” she pointed out.

They were now midway through the eighteen-hole miniature golf course, sharing the experience with a crowd largely consisting of tourists. The establishment had opened earlier that summer and had quickly become a popular nighttime gathering place.

Annie hit the golf ball again with the same result. The third time was a charm with the ball finally sliding through the narrow tunnel that led to the hole.

Lindsey was up next. She managed to send her ball through on the first try. Ryan never did accomplish it, finally opting to putt his ball around the apparatus.

“That’s three strokes for me, six for Annie and six for Ryan, but only because six is the limit.” Lindsey wrote down their tallies on the scorecard with a tiny pencil while they waited for the group ahead of them to finish the next hole. “The way you two are racking up strokes, I’m embarrassed to be out here with you.”

“We’re not that bad,” Ryan protested.

“Not that bad? You’re horrible!” Lindsey rolled her eyes dramatically, but she was smiling. “Especially you, Ryan. Aren’t doctors supposed to be good at golf?”

“It’s not my game,” Ryan said.

“I can’t imagine you being good at any games,” she said with a laugh.

Annie waited for Ryan to stick up for himself, but he
just laughed. “He was a three-sport athlete in high school,” she heard herself say.

Lindsey bounced her pink golf ball on the pavement and snagged it in mid-air. “Really? Which sports?”

Now that Annie had started defending him, she could hardly stop. “Football, basketball and baseball.”

“Get out!” Lindsey said. To Ryan, she asked, “Is that true?”

“It’s true.”

“But how did you know that, Annie?” Lindsey asked. “Didn’t you and Ryan just start dating?”

Annie had expected to feel uncomfortable around Ryan but Lindsey had kept up a running commentary since Ryan had picked them up, mitigating the awkwardness. Now it came rushing back.

“We knew each other in high school,” Annie said.

Lindsey practically squealed. “You mean you were high-school sweethearts?”

“No.” Annie touched the left side of her face, careful not to look at Ryan. “It means we knew each other in high school.”

Annie regretted saying anything at all about their shared past. She searched for another subject, but needn’t have bothered.

“Look, there’s Jason.” Lindsey pointed to the periphery of the course, where Jason Garrity leaned against a fence that overlooked the golfers. “I’m going to say hi.”

She dashed off as fast as her skinny jeans would allow her, waving gaily to Jason. When she reached
him she tossed her long hair and laid a hand on his arm, the smile never leaving her lips. Jason smiled back.

“If he touches her, I might have to hurt him,” Ryan said under his breath. “Does he know how old she is?”

“He’ll know soon,” Annie said. “You can count on that.”

Lindsey laughed at something Jason said and rested one hand on her hip, like she was posing.

“It can’t be soon enough.” Ryan sounded as though he was gritting his teeth.

“What are you two doing here?”

Annie stifled a groan at the instantly recognizable female voice. She plastered on a smile and turned to see Edie Clark approaching, her curiosity so evident the word could have been inscribed in red ink on her forehead.

“Same as you, I imagine, Edie,” Annie said. “We’re golfing.”

Edie’s eyebrows took on twin shapes worthy of the Arc de Triomphe. “I had the impression you hadn’t seen each other in years.”

“We hadn’t,” Annie said.

“So do tell.” Edie seemed oblivious to Annie’s attempt to dissuade her from further questions. “Who asked who out?”

“I asked her,” Ryan said. “I had a thing for her in high school. Found out I still do.”

Edie’s jaw went slack and her eyes bugged out. Annie cringed. If Ryan had been within elbowing range, he would have gotten a sharp one to the ribs.

“That’s…” Edie seemed to be searching for a word. “…sweet.”

“Mom! Your turn!” A girl of about seven with braided dark hair and freckles yelled from two holes away. Edie’s twin boys were on their bellies, dragging their hands in a stream of water that ran down the right side of the hole. A harried-looking man was trying to get them to stand up. Edie hadn’t moved.

“Mo-om!” The little girl yelled again.

“I’ve got to go,” Edie said with obvious reluctance. “You two have fun.”

Edie left them to return to her family, sneaking glances over her shoulder. Edie took her golf club from her daughter but didn’t immediately take her turn, instead crossing to her husband and saying something to him. Her husband turned and looked at them.

“Did you have to tell her you had a thing for me in high school?” Annie kept a smile on her face, acting as if nothing was wrong. “It’s not even true.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Annie wasn’t interested in his lies. “She’ll tell everyone she knows what you said.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “So what?”

“So she’s a gossip.” She winced at the volume of her voice. She deliberately lowered it and moved a step closer to him, loathe for anyone to overhear. “What do you think she’ll make of it when she sees Lindsey with us? What if she figures it out?”

“How could she figure it out?” he asked. “It’s not like you had a crush on me in high school.”

Her stomach rolled.

“You didn’t, did you?”

She’d been careful during their long-ago night together not to let him find out. She lowered her eyes, wishing her honest streak wasn’t so wide. “I don’t have a crush on you now.”

A burst of childish laughter rang out, followed by a golfer’s shout that he’d made a hole-in-one, but the silence between Annie and Ryan seemed deafening.

“I don’t understand. Then why did you blow me off when I called you from Spain?” He moved closer, lowered his voice even more. “It was before you knew you were pregnant.”

A part of her wanted to hurt him the way she’d been wounded. “Maybe the fantasy was better than the reality.”

He winced as though she’d struck him.

“Hey, you two! You’re holding everybody up.” Lindsey hurried toward them, gesturing that the hole they’d been waiting to play was free. “Lowest score goes first so I’ve got honors. Again.”

Annie was so aware of the change in Ryan that she could barely keep her mind on her golf game. He was quieter, more contemplative, no doubt because of her childish, cruel comment.

She had no luck putting through the front door of the little red schoolhouse, onto the right lane of the metal bridge or into the clown’s mouth. By the time they reached the eighteenth hole, she couldn’t stand it any longer. While Lindsey was lining up a putt, considering it from every angle, Annie edged over to Ryan’s side.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not? You meant it, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, inclining his head in the direction of Edie and her family. “Edie’s been watching us all night.”

She blinked up at him, surprised by the abrupt change of subjects. “I noticed.”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” he said, “and unless we act like a couple, people might wonder why we’re together.”

“I don’t under—”

He kissed her before she could finish her sentence, just leaned down and captured her mouth. His lips felt warm and soft, and he smelled…intoxicating. Like his kiss.

His mouth moved over hers, his lips tasting and teasing, coaxing her into forgetting the very valid reasons she shouldn’t be kissing him. Remembered sensations swamped her so that she couldn’t distinguish between the past and the present. They blended together, creating one perfect moment.

One perfect kiss.

Somebody whooped.

Ryan’s lips clung to hers a moment longer, then he lifted his head and smiled into her eyes.

“Did you see that putt?” Lindsey called, swinging her head around. Annie’s brain wasn’t fast enough to signal her feet to move. Lindsey caught them not quite in the act.

Lindsey smiled knowingly. “If you’re not too busy, Annie, it’s your turn.”

Annie hit her golf ball, dismayed that she could still feel
the imprint of Ryan’s mouth on hers. She was angry at him for kissing her, but livid at herself for reacting to him.

It had taken her years to recover her self-confidence from what he’d done, time in which she’d grown up enough to learn to protect herself.

Even though one day she might be able to forgive him, she knew better than to fall for a man who’d slept with her to win a bet with his buddies.

C
OULD HE
be a bigger jerk?

Ryan doubted it. After Annie’s comment about the fantasy of who she’d thought he was in high school being better than the reality, he’d handed her a reason to believe he hadn’t changed.

He couldn’t say for sure what had possessed him to kiss her but it didn’t have much to do with gossipy Edie Clark. Maybe it was because he’d sensed the chemistry between them was still combustible and wanted to prove that it at least lived up to the imagination.

It was no consolation that he’d been right.

Now he had something else to apologize for, if he could get Annie to start talking to him again. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left the miniature golf course, not that the car had been filled with silence.

“How can you stand not having a mall nearby?” Lindsey didn’t wait for either Ryan or Annie to answer. “I think they should be the cornerstone of every civilization.”

Ryan briefly removed his attention from the winding road to glance at the silent Annie, hoping to share an
amused look. She kept her gaze averted, but she was struggling to hide a smile.

“You know what else every town should have?” Lindsey asked.

“A mascot?” Ryan answered, even though he was pretty sure it had been a rhetorical question. “When I was a kid, there was a hiker who claimed he saw Big Foot.” The local newspaper had written a story about it, although Ryan had never been sure why. “Do you remember that, Annie?”

She could hardly refuse to answer a direct question with Lindsey in the car.

“Who could forget him? The hiker got lost in the woods and said Big Foot showed him the way out.” Her smile broke free, which he chose to take as an encouraging sign.

“No way!” Lindsey exclaimed. “Did that really happen?”

“The hiker claimed it did. He said Big Foot had gotten a bad rap,” Ryan said. “Sounds like a good candidate for an Indigo Springs mascot to me.”

Lindsey giggled. “Not a mascot, a shoe megastore. I think every town should have one of those. Just wall-to-wall shoes.”

“Would the sizes go up high enough to fit Big Foot?” Ryan asked.

“You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you?” Lindsey asked.

“I believe in possibilities.” Ryan slanted another look at Annie, who still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “So I’m not ruling it out.”

Oblivious to the tension, Lindsey continued her steady stream of conversation until Ryan stopped the Lexus at the river-rafting compound. He accompanied them into the house as though it was expected, determined to talk to Annie alone before the evening ended.

He got help from an unexpected source when Lindsey yawned and stretched her arms overhead. “I’m going to my room.”

“So soon?” Annie asked sharply. “Why don’t you hang out with us for a little while?”

“Thanks but no thanks.” Lindsey was already backing toward the bedroom at the rear of the one-story house. “I’m gonna crash. Maybe listen to my iPod for a while.”

Lindsey kept retreating, increasing the distance between them until their trio became a duo. “I’ll put on my headphones. It’ll be like I’m not even in the house.”

She ducked into the bedroom and shut the door, cutting off the additional protest Ryan felt sure Annie would have made.

“What did she mean by that?” Annie muttered.

Ryan thought it was obvious. “I’d say she wanted to give us time alone.”

“What?”

“She was worried she’d be in the way when I asked her to come along tonight, remember?”

Annie marched toward the closed door of the room, showing no signs that the bike accident that morning had slowed her down, her fist already raised. Ryan cut off her path at an angle. “What are you doing?”

Annie either had to stop or run into him. She stopped.
No surprise there. “I’m going to tell her she won’t be in the way.”

He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

“What do you mean—”

He raised a finger to his lips and nodded toward the closed door. Annie fell silent, getting his point. He motioned with his head again, indicating they should relocate to the porch.

“Lindsey thinks we’re dating,” Ryan said once were outside in the night air. “It’ll seem odd to her if we don’t spend time alone.”

Annie nodded as though she understood.

“Go ahead and go,” she said, proving that she didn’t. “I’ll stay out here for a while so Lindsey doesn’t know you’re gone.”