Authors: Beth Cornelison
She held her tears in check until she was safely ensconced in her Bug. Then the hot rush leaked to her cheeks as she started her engine, and with a squeal of her tires, she left the store parking lot in the dust. If only she could outrun the pain of Kevin's disloyalty as easily. But she knew losing Kevin was going to hurt for a long, long time.
C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN
For long moments after Claire’s father left, Kevin stared numbly at the check he still held. Why hadn’t he ripped it up when he had the chance and shown her father what his bribe was worth? Why had he taken the check at all? The whole surreal situation had him reeling.
With a growl of frustration, he tore it up now and threw the pieces at the trashcan. The bits of paper fluttered to the floor like dead leaves caught in a whirlwind.
When he heard a low whistle, he looked up.
"Wow," Lydia said, stooping to collect the shredded check from the floor. "What’s eating you? I haven’t seen a face that long since I convinced my mother Elvis really was dead."
She glanced down at the scraps she had picked up and gasped. "Holy cow! Kevin, this is...how many thousand? God, I didn’t know this much money existed! And you tore it up? Have you lost your mind?"
He met his cashier’s stunned look. "Maybe I have. That money would have solved a lot of financial worries for me. I could have finally paid off my mom's hospital bills, could have afforded a private mental health facility for Sam..."
Lydia gaped at him. "So why'd you rip it up?"
"'Cause it wasn't worth what it would have cost me."
"What it would cost you? Hon, what’s going on?"
He nodded toward the ripped check in Lydia’s hands. "That was a bribe. Claire’s father wanted me out of her life and thought he could buy me off."
"I see." Lydia took another longing look at the check before she crumpled the scraps and dumped them in the trash. "Lordy, with that money, I could have done some real damage at the mall in Columbia. Shoo-ee!"
She propped a fist on her ample hip. "Claire's a lucky woman. I'm not so sure Earl wouldn't throw me over for a lot less than that. You gonna tell her about this, about what her daddy tried to pull?"
Kevin rubbed a hand over his face. "No. Not now anyway."
"Why the heck not?"
He shrugged. "It's complicated."
"No, it ain't. You just say, 'Claire, your father tried to buy me off, but you mean more to me than all the gold in Fort Knox.' I don't know a woman alive who wouldn't swoon over a sentiment like that."
"That's why I can't tell her."
Lydia cocked her head to one side. "Come again?"
"It's just that right now we're at a pretty big crossroad. Last night we...moved things to the next level."
One of the cashier's painted eyebrows arched. "Meaning you had sex with her."
So much for euphemisms
.
"Yeah."
"I still don't see the problem."
Kevin sighed wondering how to explain to Lydia something he couldn't fully understand himself. "I'm in love with her, but...I don't want to tell her. I don't want her to think I'm pressuring her for a commitment she's not ready to give me."
Lydia crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "Go on."
"Even before her father showed up, I had planned to back off, see where she wanted to go with this relationship. I have to know that if we continued with what we started last night, it's what she wants."
"What about what you want, Kev?"
Claire's face flashed in his mind's eye. The way she'd looked this morning, rumpled and sexy and smiling at him as they made love. A sense of fullness and completion speared his chest, warming him from the inside out.
"I know what I want. I want to spend the rest of my life with her."
"And you don't think what
you
want counts for anything?"
Blowing out a deep breath of frustration, he rocked back in the desk chair and raked his fingers through his hair. "The point is she hasn't been given the right to make important decisions about her life in the past. Having the opportunity to make her own choices is important to her. I have to respect that. And I have to give her the time and breathing room she needs to make a choice about us. Without undue influence from me. That's the only way I'll know if her feelings are genuine."
Lydia narrowed a skeptical gaze on him. "Seems to me what you're doing, my friend, is holding back, because the last time you gave your all, you had it thrown back in your face."
Her assessment pricked him, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Maybe. And maybe I pushed Robin too hard. When she felt cornered, she ran. I don't want Claire to feel trapped because of my feelings. If she chooses to be with me, I want to know it's because she loves me and because it is what
she
wants."
"So why the frown? Don't you know she's nuts about you?"
Kevin answered with a grunt. "I might have agreed with you this morning. But then her father showed up. I'm not sure how much influence he still has over her. He made it clear he thinks I'm just after her money, and you can bet he's trying to convince her to go home with him as we speak." A new, more ominous thought occurred to Kevin, and he grimaced. "God, what if he tells her about what happened a little while ago. If he tells her I took a payoff—"
He was half out of his seat when Lydia grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down.
"Then she won't believe him. If she knows you, even a little bit, she'll know you're not the kind of man who can be bought." Lydia nodded with assurance. "You want Claire to believe in you and your love for her, right? So do the same for her. Trust her and trust in her love for you. I'm betting she won't let you down."
Kevin forced a weak grin for Lydia’s effort to cheer him. What she said made sense. If Claire knew him, really knew who he was and loved that man, she’d realize the truth and come back to him. If not, then the discerning woman he’d fallen in love with was a fable, and there was no fairy tale ending for them.
But for now, all he could do was wait. The fate of their relationship had to be Claire's choice.
***
On Sunday evening, when she heard Mrs. Proctor's light rapping on her bedroom door, Claire raised her head from her pillow and wiped her eyes. "Come in."
"Claire? Dinner is ready. I made fried chicken."
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry." Claire sniffed and pulled a tissue from the box by the bed to blow her nose.
Mrs. Proctor leaned heavily on her cane and sighed. "You didn't eat anything last night after your father left either. You're gonna waste away if you don't put something in your stomach."
Though food was the last thing her knotted stomach wanted, she hated to disappoint Mrs. Proctor since she'd made a special effort to cook Claire's favorite food. "Maybe I could sip some milk while you eat, but...I don't think I'll be good company."
After a tense parting with her father the night before, food had been the last thing she'd wanted. He'd clearly been disappointed when she'd refused for the umpteenth time to go back to Asheville with him. Despite her broken heart, she wouldn't give up her plans to start her Master’s degree in the fall. She didn't mention to her father the conversation she'd overheard, but her father had confidently told her he wagered Kevin would show his true colors soon enough.
Fortunately, she hadn't been on the schedule to work today, and Mrs. Proctor seemed to understand she needed time to grieve. So Claire had spent the day shut in her bedroom. Hurting. Furious. Missing Kevin.
"Maybe you could tell me what happened to upset you so badly. I'm a pretty good listener." The bed sagged as Mrs. Proctor settled on the edge of the mattress beside her. "They say confession is good for the soul."
Claire shook her head. She wouldn't burden her landlady with her problem. She'd figure it out for herself. That was what she wanted after all. Right? To do things for herself. To decide things about her life on her own. Even if Kevin and her father seemed unable to grasp that concept or give her that privilege. Their secret deal proved that much.
"Thanks anyway," she said, giving the older woman a wobbly smile. Mrs. Proctor would likely just defend Kevin anyway.
Besides, how did she explain all the confusion in her heart? Her hurt went deeper than Kevin's acceptance of her father's payoff. Though disillusioned by Kevin's actions, her greatest pain came from his disloyalty. She'd trusted him with her heart, her dreams, and he'd disregarded both when he chose her father's money over her love. Her judgment had been off base again, like it had been with Blaine. When would she learn? Maybe she'd never find a man to love her for
her
and not her money.
By sheer will, she tamped down the swell of pain in her chest. She'd present a brave face to Mrs. Proctor if it killed her. Swiping a finger under her swollen eyes, she dried the tears puddled there. "I'm okay. Really."
"Well, if you change your mind and want to talk, I've got nothing to do tonight 'cept put all that fried chicken away for another day."
Claire gave her landlady an apologetic look. "I'm sorry you went to so much trouble. I appreciate the gesture. Truly. It's just..." Her breath caught as the ache she'd forced down for a moment surged up in her throat again. "It's just..."
With a hiccup, she dissolved in tears again and buried her face in her hands.
Drat
! So much for her show of strength. She couldn't remember crying so hard over anything since Nana had died ten years before. Even learning of Blaine's infidelity hadn't cut her as deeply as Kevin taking her father's payoff.
She felt a frail arm circle her shoulders and pull her close. With a tiny gasp, she looked up into Mrs. Proctor's gray eyes. Compassion and comfort shone from the old woman's gaze, and the last of Claire's resolve crumbled when her landlady pulled her into a fierce hug. She wept on Mrs. Proctor's bony shoulder, cherishing the comfort her elderly friend offered.
"Oh, little one. Let it out. You'll feel better after a good cry."
"But crying is all I've done today. It doesn't solve anything. It just makes your nose runny and your eyes puffy."
"And your face blotchy."
Claire groaned. "Wonderful. I've gotta stop this. I have to pull myself together and forget about Kevin, forget that Friday night ever happened and—"
"Kevin? What does Kevin have to do with these tears? I thought you had a fight with your father." The older woman levered Claire back and narrowed a suspicious glare on her.
"I saw... He took money from my dad...on the condition he never see me again. He's...p- probably planning to fire me Monday when I go in. I...I thought...after Friday night...that he maybe...loved me, but—" Her voice caught on a sob.
Clearly Kevin had never cared as deeply for her as she'd cared for him, or he wouldn't have so easily pushed her aside when her father flashed his bank account. Or maybe her father's money had been Kevin's interest all along. It had been with Blaine.
Mrs. Proctor stroked Claire's back and shook her head. "No. Kevin wouldn't do that. He's a good boy. He puts people first. Not money. And he's crazy about you. I could see it in his face when he looked at you."
Claire took a deep, slow breath, calming herself. "I saw him take the money. I heard them talking. I couldn't believe it either. But it's true."
Mrs. Proctor frowned, looked away for a moment, then sighed. "It just doesn't fit. Let me talk to him. I'll straighten everything out."
Claire sat up, pulling away from Mrs. Proctor's arms. "No. Don't. I— This is my mess, my problem, and I'll handle it. By myself."
"By yourself." Her landlady's eyes dimmed, and she scowled.
Claire gave her a confident nod. "That's why I came to Grayson in the first place. To start living my life on my own, doing what I wanted."
"And haven't you done that? Didn't you do that the day you left your parents' house and moved here? Didn't you prove your independence and determination last night when you sent your father home without you?"
The idea that she'd already accomplished her goal knocked any reply from Claire's tongue. It turned her thinking around. She had her independence now. So what was it she was still searching for?
Mrs. Proctor squeezed her hand. "Darlin', I had independence forced on me the day my Ernest died. Let me tell you, independence can be damned lonely."
Claire sighed. Kevin had said nearly the same thing a couple nights ago.
Independence doesn't have to mean isolation. Everyone needs someone sometime.
"Tell me something." Mrs. Proctor's voice commanded her attention. "Why did you leave home? What were you really looking for when you came down here?"
She started to answer but stopped herself and thought hard about the question. "I wanted... to be happy. To follow my dream."
"Following dreams is good. Very worthy endeavor." Mrs. Proctor pushed to her feet, and her cane thumped on the thin carpeting as she headed to the door. "Now ask yourself what exactly you think will make you truly happy. Dreams are a good thing, but...don't let pride stand in the way of allowing yourself true happiness."
True happiness
.
Claire sank back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. What would make her truly happy? When she'd come to Grayson, she thought her independence and the chance to earn her Master's would make her happy. Then she'd met Kevin.
Kevin had made her happy. Truly happy. She'd been swept away by his kindness and wry humor, his sexy allure and gentleness, his dedication to his principles.
It doesn't fit.
Fresh tears filled her eyes. If only she could make sense of what she'd seen and overheard. How could he make love to her so desperately, so passionately Friday, then cast her aside the next day? She rubbed her temple where the tempest of her thoughts stirred a pounding headache.
It doesn't fit.
And yet she’d seen him take the check with her own eyes…
***
A bright flash and loud crash jolted Claire from a restless sleep late that night. She clapped a hand over her heart while she recovered from the start and listened to the echoes of the thunder rattle her bedroom windows. She saw a crack of light peeking under her door and knew the storm had wakened Mrs. Proctor as well.