What Mattered Most Page 17

  Feeling trapped, Lanie walked to the glass doors and stared out at the drizzling rain. “I don’t know how. He’s not the man I thought he was.” She remembered his anguish and the cryptic comment about his mother. “There’s so much I don’t know about him. How can I love him?”

  “I don’t know. But you’re miserable with him gone, aren’t you?”

  “And I’d be miserable with him here. I’d always wonder if he was thinking of Beth, if he wanted her instead.” She glanced at Caitlin over her shoulder. “Could you live with that?”

  “Probably not.” Caitlin wrapped her arms around her knees. “I hate seeing you unhappy.”

  Lanie turned away from those all-seeing eyes. With a fingertip, she traced a raindrop’s path down the window. In the weeks since the night she’d given in to the temptation of John’s touch, she’d wrestled with her feelings and what they meant. With the memory of his mouth on hers, desire tingled in her abdomen, and she squashed it. She had only one option. “It’s the lesser of two evils, Cait. I’d rather be alone than end up like my mother, living with a man she could never really have. And I won’t do that to my baby, either.”

  Silence lay between them for long moments, and when Caitlin spoke again, her voice was too cheerful. “Did you decide if you’re going with us tomorrow night?”

  Lanie sighed, her gaze on the tear-like droplets glistening on the glass. “I don’t know. I’d love to get out for a while. I could find a sitter, but I bet nothing in my closet fits.”

  “Sounds like a great reason for a shopping bonanza. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  Anticipation shivered over Lanie’s skin. A new dress. Dinner. Music. A little dancing, and a night when she could feel like the old Lanie. A night to help her forget John O’Reilly ever existed. She turned, grinning. “You’re right. It does sound like fun. In fact, it sounds like just what I need.”

  “Well, I’m going to get out of here.” Caitlin rose, brushing at the seat of her jeans. “I’ll come by around nine.”

  As Lanie closed the door behind her cousin, the phone rang. She hurried to pick it up, not wanting the upstairs extension to wake the baby. “Hello?”

  For a second, silence shimmered on the line, and her nerves tingled. John cleared his throat. “Hi. I was calling to see if Sonny had a better evening.”

  Eyes closed, she leaned against the hallway wall. The deep roughness of his voice conjured recollections of them together, dark whispers of what he wanted from her, what he wanted to do to her. “About the same. He’s asleep now.”

  “Did you call Dr. Ridley? What did he say?”

  “It’s probably colic. It lasts about a month.”

  “A month?” The distinct squeak of shifting bedsprings carried over the line, and Lanie pictured him lying in bed, wearing just his boxer briefs. Her mouth went dry.

  “That’s what he said.” God help her, she was grateful for the inane conversation, the opportunity to bask in his voice.

  “I get off at five every afternoon. If you need help, I can come over and—”

  “We’re fine.” The words emerged sharp and brittle, but she couldn’t handle seeing him every evening, knowing he’d leave.

  Silence stretched over the line. “Fine.” His voice was clipped, harsh. “I’ll see him Tuesday, then. Good night.”

  The line went dead, and Lanie stood for a long time, leaning against the wall, the phone pressed against her lips.

  John jogged up the stairs to the small apartment he now shared with Casey McInvale. He could feel the weight of the fundraiser dinner-dance ticket he carried in his pocket, the outline burning into his skin. Casey had laid it on him after the fishing tournament that morning, and the ticket was pure temptation—an excuse, an opportunity to see Lanie. Not even a game of tennis at the Y had pushed it from his mind. Already, his resolve weakened.

  He tried to shrug off the despondency settling on him—he’d given Lanie time and space, and he was no closer to getting through to her than he’d been when she’d awakened in the hospital, looking at him with hatred in the golden depths of her eyes.

  On the landing, he sorted through his keys, still not used to looking for the brass key instead of the silver one to Lanie’s door. The key stuck in the lock, and he cursed under his breath, jiggling the handle. Finally, the door swung inward, and he stepped into a raucous blend of familiar voices.

  “O’Reilly! About time you got here.” Casey stood in front of the mirror by the front door, straightening his tie. “Look who’s here.”

  Hank Starling and Alison Rivers, the detectives who had shared the desks adjacent to his and Beth’s, greeted him with derogatory teasing about desk jockey spread and pencil pushing assignments. He laughed, but his attention was on the other occupant of the room. Beth stood by the kitchen door, a bottle of sparkling water in hand, a dark blue dress setting off her copper hair and fair skin.

  She smiled and crossed the room to envelop him in a warm hug. “Smile, O’Reilly. I’m not going to bite you.”

  He returned the hug, glad to see her eyes were bright and clear. “I wasn’t worried about that, Cameron.”

  No shivers of sensation moved over his skin. His nerves didn’t jerk. The only emotion tugging at his heart was simple pleasure that she lived. His eyes closed, with Beth’s arms around him, the only face he saw in his mind was Lanie’s.

  “God, you smell.” She stepped back, her nose wrinkled. “What have you been doing?”

  With a sheepish grin, he tugged a hand through his hair. “Playing tennis. What are you doing here?”

  “I got a personal invite from Sheriff Burnett to Haven County’s fundraiser dinner.” She shrugged, still smiling, although shadows slipped into her blue eyes. “I figured since his guys saved my life, showing up was the least I could do.”

  The ticket in his pocket took on extra weight. “Where’s Nicole? How’s she doing?”

  “Better. She’s making friends and settling down at school. The little girl across the hall from our place is in her class; she’s spending the night over there.”

  John waved a hand at the others. “I guess you guys are making a night of it, huh?”

  Casey leaned against the foyer wall and grinned. “I graciously offered to escort Ms. Cameron since my lovely and understanding significant other had to work an extra shift.”

  “And we’re making a night of it, O’Reilly,” Alison put in. Seated on the sofa arm, she tugged the skirt of her little black dress closer to her knee. “You still owe me a dance from New Year’s.”

  “You’ll have to take another raincheck, Rivers. I’m not going. I need an early night.” Beth’s presence made his decision for him. He could imagine Lanie’s reaction if he showed up with Beth, even in a group.

  “That desk job is already getting to him,” Hank said.

  “Shut up, Starling.” Beth stared John down, her eyes narrowed. “We’re not taking no for an answer, O’Reilly.”

  With a harsh laugh, he slumped into the recliner. “How about ‘hell, no’ then?”

  Casey jingled his keys. “Starling, Rivers. Let’s go pull the car around. We’ll let Cameron work her persuasive wonders on him.”

  The others filed out, leaving John and Beth staring at each other. She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one foot. “Now what’s going on?”

  Pushing the chair back, John folded his hands behind his head. “Nothing. I just don’t feel like socializing.”

  “No.” Beth waved a hand around the room. “I mean, this. You moving out. The desk job. The fact you look like walking crap.”

  He resisted the urge to jump to his feet and pace. “I took the desk job so I could spend time with my kid. I moved out because Lanie wanted me out. And maybe I look like crap because that’s what my life has turned into.”

  Beth’s eyes narrowed further, gleaming blue slits. “Poor baby. Having a little pity party, are we?”

  Fury sizzled on his nerves. Slamming the chair to an upright position, he shot to h
is feet. “Don’t give me that, Cameron. I don’t need it from you. Remember, I’ve seen you in worse condition than I’m in.”

  She smiled, surprising him. “Good. You haven’t forgotten how to fight. What are you doing, just giving in? Is that your plan, O’Reilly? Give her everything, including your back to use as a door mat?”

  He jerked his fingers through his hair. “She doesn’t want me anymore. What am I supposed to do? Hang around outside her door until she takes pity on me and takes me back?”

  “If that’s what it takes, yes. Have you tried telling her you love her?” She pointed from his head to his feet. “It’s obvious you’re pining away for her. God knows, you didn’t go to hell like this when I dumped you.”

  “I can’t tell her.” The words hurt his throat. “She wouldn’t believe me.”

  With a disgusted sigh, Beth grabbed her small beaded bag from the sofa table. “You know what, O’Reilly? You’re hopeless. Stay here; wallow in self-pity. And in six months, when you eat your gun, maybe Lanie will show up for your funeral.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lanie adjusted Sonny Buck’s blankets. After his evening screaming bout, he’d taken a bottle and fallen into an exhausted slumber. She smiled, stroking his cheek while he sucked his fingers, his newest discovery. A warm rush of love suffused her body. He changed so much every day.

  Guilt chilled the warmth. She couldn’t imagine losing these moments, and part of her regretted telling John he couldn’t come by every evening. She hated it, but even so, her sense of self-preservation was stronger than the regret.

  A soft rustle of beads signaled Caitlin’s presence. Lanie glanced up to find her cousin watching her from the doorway. A tense smile curved Caitlin’s mouth. “Tristan’s here. Ready to go?”

  Lanie brushed a fingertip over her son’s wispy hair. “Leaving him is harder than I thought it would be.”

  Caitlin crossed her arms over her midriff, her dress’s silver beading clicking with the movement. “It will do you good to get out. Tristan has your cell phone number, and mine, if anything happens. We’ll even call it an early night.”

  Lanie smiled. “You convinced me.”

  They went downstairs, Lanie wondering if the scandalous heels she’d chosen were really a good idea. When was the last time she’d worn high heels anyway? Probably that first, and only, Valentine’s Day with John, just weeks before she discovered she was pregnant. His eyes had flared when he’d glimpsed the strappy, stiletto sandals, and she’d ended up leaving them on while he made love to her.

  Putting his reaction to those dangerously high heels out of her mind, she enjoyed the feel of her new red dress. The silk shifted like caressing fingers over her skin, the asymmetrical hem fluttering about her legs. Knowing the scarlet hue set off her hair and skin, she felt attractive for the first time in what seemed like forever. With an artfully messy updo covering the incision site on her scalp, she could even let herself forget the scar and still-bare spot.

  Dennis lounged against the banister, and his playful, appreciative whistle boosted her spirits further. He wrapped an arm around Caitlin’s shoulder and grinned. “Ladies, I am going to be the envy of every guy at this shindig.”

  Excitement tingled under her skin. Music and dancing were old loves, and she felt their call tonight. With Tristan’s reassurances relieving her last remnants of maternal guilt, she followed Dennis and Caitlin to the car.

  The historic Seaview Hotel rose above the beach with restored twenties splendor. Images of crystal chandeliers and a polished ballroom floor danced in Lanie’s head as Dennis handed his car off to a valet. In the spacious lobby, small groups congregated, talking, laughing, and sipping drinks. Surrounded by friends and acquaintances, Lanie relaxed further.

  Moving through the lobby, they stopped several times as Lanie fielded hugs, handshakes, questions about her health and congratulations on her baby’s birth.

  When they walked away from the last group, Dennis glanced at his watch. “We’ve got a while before dinner. How about if I go to the bar and get us something to drink?”

  Grateful, Lanie smiled. “A white wine would be wonderful.”

  Dennis nodded. “What about you, Cait?”

  “Make it two.”

  “Be right back.” Dennis disappeared into the chattering, laughing crowd.

  “Are you tired?” Caitlin fingered the fringe of beads at the hem of her dress. “Do you need to sit down?”

  Lanie shook her head, the noise of countless conversations pressing in on her. A slight ache began at her temples. “But when Dennis gets back, I wouldn’t mind stepping out for some air.”

  “Hey, gorgeous, fancy meeting you here.” Casey’s enthusiastic voice brought a smile to her face, and she turned to greet him. The smile froze on her face, her breath strangling in her throat. Standing with Casey, hand tucked through his elbow, was Beth.

  Lanie stopped herself from taking a step back. Beth’s split lip had healed, and wearing a dark blue dress that hugged her curvy, petite figure, she radiated beauty and confidence. She stared at Lanie, a smile on her lips and something like anger crackling in her bright blue eyes. Lanie’s gaze darted away, seeking John. Acid bitterness curled in her. He wouldn’t be far away.

  The impressions jumbled through Lanie’s mind in seconds. If Casey noticed anything amiss in her reaction, he didn’t show it. He wrapped her in a quick, hard hug and stepped back, whistling. “That is some dress, Lanie. You look awesome.”

  Pride forced her to widen her smile. She curved her fingers around his forearm, a teasing, flirtatious gesture. “You don’t look so bad yourself, McInvale. Where’s Lisa?”

  Casey grinned. “She had to work, so I’m making the extreme sacrifice of escorting Beth tonight. It’s a hard job, but—”

  “Oh, stop,” Beth commanded. She smiled at Lanie again. “You’re looking very well, Lanie.”

  “Thank you.” Lanie struggled to keep her voice even. Beth wasn’t to blame for the mess Lanie’s life was in. She couldn’t help the way John felt about her. “You look great.”

  “We sound like a mutual admiration society.” Casey’s lighthearted enthusiasm did little to alleviate the tension. He glanced at Caitlin. “Gorgeous, you want to introduce me?”

  Her mind whirling, Lanie made the introductions automatically, including Dennis as he returned. Sipping her white wine, she scanned the crowd again. No John.

  “John should be along in a little while,” Casey said, as though reading her mind. “He didn’t want to come, but Beth worked her magic on him. He was in the shower when we left.”

  Anger washed Lanie’s vision with a haze, and she swallowed past the lump of jealousy in her throat. Of course, he’d show up. Beth was here. She turned to Caitlin. “You know, I am a little tired.” She winced at the brittle tone of her own voice. “Let’s see if a table is available yet.”

  Casey glanced around at the crowd. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard yet. Tell you what—we’ll find Hank and Alison and join you.”

  Her only reply a tight smile, Lanie spun and walked away.

  Dinner turned out to be a miserable affair. The Seaview cuisine, famous throughout Texas, tasted like dust and ashes in Lanie’s mouth. She pushed baby salad greens around her plate, unable to eat more than a bite of the spiced cornbread croutons. Conversation bounced around the large table, Casey kept the air lighthearted, but Lanie couldn’t forget the empty chair between Hank and Casey.

  Finding Beth’s narrowed gaze on her every time she looked up didn’t help either. Beth reminded her of a cat, waiting to pounce on it prey. Spearing a cob of baby corn and dipping it in the light house dressing, Lanie swore not to give her the opportunity. As soon as dinner was over, she was out of there. She would use Sonny Buck as an excuse and catch a cab.

  The escape route made her feel marginally better. Commanding her stomach to settle down, she took a long sip of ice water.

  A server approached to remove their salad course. He eyed the untouc
hed plate in front of the empty chair. “Is your other party not joining you?”

  “The other party is here.” John’s deep voice turned every bite Lanie had eaten into a lump of ice in the pit of her stomach. She glanced up to find him standing behind Hank’s chair, his unreadable gaze steady on her. He clapped Hank on the shoulder. “Shove over, would you, Starling?”

  With good-natured grumbling, Hank shifted to the empty chair, which left John seated at Lanie’s right. Along with his woodsy scent, his warmth enveloped her, and the muscles low in her stomach trembled. Aware of his gaze on her face, she lowered her eyes and fiddled with her napkin, wondering why he hadn’t asked Casey to move so he could sit next to Beth.

  The interrupted conversation picked up again. The waiter began to place the main course, and John shook out his napkin, his elbow brushing Lanie’s bare arm as he spread the linen square in his lap. He tilted his head toward her. “Who’s with Sonny Buck?”

  She didn’t look at him, his voice doing crazy things to her nerve endings. “Tristan. He was asleep when I left.” She lifted her goblet again, wetting her dry throat. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  He leaned back to give the server more room, his arm around the back of her chair. When he spoke, his breath stirred the hair at her temple. “I didn’t know until this afternoon.”

  “Beth convinced you, huh?” She picked up her fork, using the action as an excuse to scoot away from his enticing heat.

  “In a way.” He straightened and reached for his own fork, but didn’t drop his arm from her chair. “But I’m not here because of Beth.”

  With his torturous presence, there was no way she could eat. Lanie choked down a few bites of grilled seafood and vegetables, his every movement filling her with tingling awareness. Hoping to be distracted from his appeal, she tried to focus on the current topic of discussion at the table.

  Casey laughed and waved his fork in John’s direction. “This is how spoiled the kid is going to be—it’s March, and O’Reilly is already hiding Christmas presents in the closet.”