“The pastries were pretty picked over, so it’s just cinnamon rolls.”
Rachael pulled out a stack of napkins, and they tore into the rolls. “Thank you, again,” she mumbled around a mouthful of food.
“You’re welcome,” he said, taking the remaining cup.
“What’s that one?” she asked.
“Black coffee.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Want some cream or sugar?”
He shook his head. “No, this is fine.”
“Suit yourself.”
Clutching her cardboard cup of heaven, Rachael let the dogs out and stepped into the sunshine. The humidity was trying to build, but it was still decent enough outside for now. Rick followed her onto the deck.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked.
Rachael dropped into a chair and sipped her latte. “Not especially well, but I got enough for today.”
“I was worried about your sister. Does she do that, have panic attacks, often?”
“Not anymore. She used to get them when we were younger—and super intense dreams, too—but it’s been a long time.” She stared off into the yard, recalling how scared she had been when Carlie woke up in the middle of the night, sobbing. The doctors said it wasn’t sleep terrors, but she had emotionally devastating, vivid dreams. Shivering, Rachael pushed the memory away.
“Does she take anything for it?”
“No. She always refused meds. Mom took her to a specialist for a little while, but she’s found success relying instead on running and meditation.”
He took a drink of his coffee, considering. “She seems better today.”
Rachael nodded, and glanced back toward the kitchen. She couldn’t see them; they must have gone back to the front room. “It’s going to be a long road for her. They were together for four years, ever since they met in college. She had even begun talking about getting married, so I imagine this came out of left field.” Or had it? She frowned as she thought again about how odd things had been lately.
“Did you suspect anything?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. They used to be so perfect together, like sickeningly so. Over the last few months, maybe more, he started flaking out, not showing up for family functions, working late. Lots of little things. She never said anything, but I think they had been having some problems. It’s still so shocking though. And to cheat on her like that. It makes me so angry!”
He frowned and took the chair next to her. “What’s she going to do?”
Massaging her temples, she shrugged. “Move on, I guess. What else can you do in a situation like that?”
“Therapy. That’s what I did.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
He smiled somberly at her expression. “I was engaged once. Went through something similar.”
Mind. Blown.
“You were engaged?”
So many questions.
“Five years ago.” He nodded slowly, brown eyes gazing across the yard. “We were together for two years. I was in love with her. She was in love with money.” He looked back at Rachael, a bitter smile in place. “It didn’t end well.”
Processing this, she watched the dogs chase each other in the yard.
He glanced at her curiously. “Does it bother you that I was engaged?”
Rachael thought about it. “I guess not. I mean, we have both had relationships in the past, right?”
“We have.”
“None of mine have ever really been serious though,” she added.
“None?”
“No,” she said, watching as Olive tackled Martini, rolling in the grass. “I’ve never even been in love.”
He was stunned. “Never?”
“No. I dated occasionally, but I never got that doe-eyed, lovey-dovey feeling. Not that there were many men in my past, but it was never . . . right.”
To her amusement, he was wide-eyed and his mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out.
“Does that bother you? It looks like it bothers you,” she observed, trying not to laugh at his fish-out-of-water expression.
He smirked and leaned over the armrests between them, breathing into her ear. “Hell no. I’m glad no one has stolen your heart yet.”
Oh, but someone has.
She swallowed and looked away.
“Tell me more about your fiancé. Is she still around?”
“Ex-fiancé,” he corrected. “No, she’s back in St. Louis. Worried?”
“No,” she said aloud.
Umm . . . Yes! Wouldn’t any person want to make sure their significant other’s ex was far, far away? And even then, farther yet would be better. Perhaps she was a bit possessive.
“How did you two meet?” Rachael asked.
“College. I was in the veterinary medicine program, and she was finishing her bachelor’s degree. We didn’t have all that much in common. But we had fun. I thought she was the one.” He brushed invisible lint from his leg. “But when I told her I was accepting the job at the animal hospital out here, she was furious. She wanted me to open a private practice there and be exclusive to high-dollar clientele. I scoffed at that. She had no idea what I wanted to do, what was important to me.”
“But you were engaged?”
“I was so naïve,” he said. “In my mind, it was the logical thing to do. I wanted to get my career started, get married, and have a family right away. Maybe that’s an only-child thing? I had hoped that being engaged would help her feel more connected, somehow help her share my vision. I thought it was starting to work, too, until I walked in on her with a classmate of mine. Guess he was willing to start this money factory.”
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
Rick opened his eyes and looked at her. “I’m not. It was awful at the time. But now? Now I’m damn glad I didn’t marry her.”
She was quiet as she thought about his words, his desire to start a family right away, then tugged at the thread connecting the past to the present. “Is she why you freaked out and quit talking to me? After the photo and the story?”
He looked out across the yard and took a deep breath. “I couldn’t let myself go through that again.”
“Rick?”
He turned to her, and she caught her breath at the exposed hurt in his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do that to you. If I could take back that dinner, that photo, everything else, I would.”
Rick leaned toward her. “I know.” He kissed her softly.
Kim strolled out to the deck, glanced at them, then walked back in the house without comment.
Laughing, they headed into the kitchen.
33
“What’s the plan?” Rachael asked.
“I’m going to the store to buy boxes and tape,” Kim said. “Then you and I are going to go pack up her clothes and toiletries.”
“Does Brent know we’re coming?”
“No,” Kim looked away sheepishly. “You’re going to call him while I’m at the store.”
Fuuuuuuck.
“What’s the address?” Rick asked.
“Why?” Rachael asked.
“So Gil and I can stop by and rough him up a bit.”
They all stared at him and time paused briefly. When it resumed, they laughed like mad women.
“Seriously,” he said. “What is the address?”
“25 Maple.”
He nodded and grabbed his phone. “Wait here.”
Mystified, she watched him walk away, phone to his ear.
“What’s that about?” Kim asked.
“I have no idea.”
Carlie was sitting on the sofa, a fuzzy blanket stretched across her lap. “Sorry to put you guys through all this,” she said.
“No problem, sunshine. You’d do the same for us,” said Kim.
Rachael bit her tongue to stop from mentioning they had done this several times now for Kim. Sometimes it was better to let it lie.
“Still, thank you.”
&n
bsp; Rick strode back in. “All taken care of.”
“What’s taken care of?”
“One of Nancy’s kids runs a moving company. He’s going to contact the ex to schedule a time today when he will not be there. They’ll arrive with boxes and packing tape. You just need to go tell them what to pack.”
Rachael’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
Kim and Carlie mirrored her expression.
“Who’s Nancy?” Kim finally asked.
“His receptionist at the hospital,”
“She’s somewhat more than that, but yes, that’s the general consensus.” He smiled. “I do need his name and phone number to send them.”
She texted him the info, and sat down, blown away by his generosity.
“Now we just need to find you a new place, Car,” said Kim. She glanced at Rick uncertainly. “Unless you’ve covered that too?”
He laughed. “Sorry, no apartments up my sleeve.”
“You could always move in here with us,” Rachael offered. “Mom and Dad won’t mind.”
She shook her head. “No. Mom and I would kill each other.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go drive around, see what’s open,” Kim suggested. “Unless you want to stay with me and Owen?”
Carlie cringed. “No, thank you.”
“I hate to be a killjoy, but it is Sunday and tomorrow is a federal holiday,” Rachael reminded them.
“I still say we go drive around. Carlie and I will take the south end of town, and you two take the north end,” Kim said.
“Works for me.” Carlie perked up.
Seeing her become animated for the first time in twenty-four hours, Rachael couldn’t deny Carlie the opportunity to take the first step in her path to freedom. “Okay. I’ll grab the folder Mom put together. Several good places in there that I had to rule out for not being pet-friendly. Unless you’re planning to get a pet?”
Carlie made a face. “No. I prefer being an auntie.”
She pulled out the leads and split them geographically. Kim and Carlie took off with the lion’s share. Rick took the remaining info sheets, skimming through and planning a route. “You don’t have to do this, Rick,” Rachael offered, giving him a chance to escape.
“I don’t mind,” he said absently as he shuffled through the papers, reordering them.
“Are you sure?”
He put the stack of papers down and focused on her. “I’m positive. I personally appreciate a plan that allows me to spend more time alone with you.”
“Well, okay then.”
“Okay then.” He grinned. “Ready to go?”
She grabbed her bag and slipped on some sandals. “Guess so.”
They started with the rentals farthest away and marked notes on the pages. A few they could rule out immediately due to location or occupancy, but there were a couple that were strong possibilities. Rachael was still making notes when they pulled up to the next one.
“An open house. That makes it easier,” he commented.
She blinked in confusion, then recognized the place. They were idling at the curb of the house she happened upon the other day. “No, this isn’t a rental. It’s just a house I liked. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m definitely not looking to buy right now, and I seriously doubt they’d entertain a lease offer. Not with the way the market is right now.”
He looked at the house for a long moment, then back at her. “Want to check it out? It is an open house after all.”
Glancing at the dwindling stack of rentals, she returned her gaze longingly to the house.
He unbuckled his seat belt. “Come on. Let’s do a quick walk-through.”
Holding hands as they walked up the driveway, they passed an orderly row of lush green plants on their way to the front door. White columns stood on either side of the entrance and an elegant metal knocker shone from the glossy door.
“Shall we?” he asked.
Rachael twisted the doorknob and they moved into a spacious foyer with pristine hardwood flooring and soft cream walls. Large windows cast bright, natural light on the wooden stairwell that led up to the second floor, while the first floor opened all around them. A pleasant real estate agent greeted them, handing her business card to Rick. “Hello and welcome! Kay McLin with Cinci Home Finders. Please look around. There are property specs and a sign-in sheet on the kitchen counter, if you wouldn’t mind leaving your names.”
“Thank you,” Rachael murmured.
She walked from room to room, falling more in love with the house with each space she entered. The large windows in each room created sizeable patches of sun-warmed floor that Martini and Olive would love. The character in the home was perfection—beautiful arched wooden doorways, window wells that were rich with soft, weathered wood, and floors that were impeccable buttery wood. She could imagine setting up an office in the smallest bedroom. The hall bath was divine and perfect for guests who would come visit. The hallways and open spaces were ripe with opportunities to decorate and host holiday parties.
“Wow,” she whispered as she entered the spacious and luxurious master suite. “This is beautiful.”
Rick followed her around the house, watching her “ooh” and “ahh” over each new feature. He was smiling indulgently, and she squeezed his hand when she passed by to check out the enclosed yard.
“Oh, Olive and Martini would love this!”
The yard was flat and wide open, two large trees offering shade over the patio. Not quite as large as her parents’ yard, but big enough to run, play, and get into plenty of trouble.
They finished up in the airy gourmet kitchen. Rachael skimmed through the pages of property measurements and tax info while Rick signed the register. “How long have you two been married?” Kay asked.
“Oh, we’re not married,” Rachael replied absently.
“No? Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, you look quite charming together.”
“Thank you,” Rick replied. “I keep trying to tell her that.”
The realtor laughed delightedly. “So charming.”
They returned to the car, and Rachael sighed. “Someday . . .”
Rick started the car and shuffled to the next page. “Onward?”
Rachael nodded and indulged in a fantasy that they were indeed a married couple—or engaged—and house hunting for that perfect family home. A shiver reached her spine, as she considered what a future like that might entail. Could she imagine marriage, a big family home . . . a family of her own? For the first time, she didn’t find the idea so foreign. Being with Rick had made her question her entire future; the plans she thought were cemented were now wavering like a mirage. A new path, a new plan, started to tease her from the edges of her mind.
She turned from the window and watched him as they made the short drive to her parents’ home. What was he thinking now? Could he be thinking about the future, too?
34
They arrived back at her parents’ house and saw no sign of her sister and Kim. Rachael bottled up her musings and returned to reality, picking through the papers in her folder and selecting the three most likely candidates from their stack. “I doubt she’ll like these, but they’re the best of the bunch we had.”
“That was fun,” he said, opening the fridge. “Water?”
She nodded. “Thanks again for coming with me.”
He sat at the table next to her and shuffled through the stacks, finding the house they walked through. “You loved it, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she sighed, looking at the pictures, wisps of dreams flitting through her mind’s eye. “But completely unrealistic. It’s too much for just me and the dogs.”
He took a drink of his water and glanced at her curiously. “Someday it could be more than just you and the dogs.”
“I suppose.”
“Like . . . maybe kids?”
She smiled. “Kids?”
“Yeah. You know, little humans. They run around. Poop a lot. Cry. That kind of thing. Or so I’m
told.”
“I know what kids are,” she laughed, slapping his shoulder.
“Do you think you’d want to have kids?”
Her laughter trailed off as she looked at him. “I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it. Maybe? With the right person. And at the right time.”
He nodded, studiously avoiding her eyes, fidgeting with the papers on the table.
“And, of course, you’d probably want to be married, right?”
“More than likely. That would pair with the ‘right person’ part of the equation.”
He glanced up briefly, then shuffled to the next page. “And what would the ‘right time’ part of the equation look like?”
“I have no idea.”
“No?”
“No. What about you?”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She saw his throat work, and he finally turned back to her. “When I was little, I dreamed about having a big family. My thoughts were always full of what life would be like if I had brothers or sisters. As I grew older, I knew I wanted to have kids, more than one. I wanted to have kids who had those brothers or sisters, the lifelong friend to always count on. I didn’t want to just have them, but be young enough to play with them, run around with them, coach their baseball teams, soccer teams . . . get out and enjoy life with them.”
She considered growing up with Carlie. They always had each other. And even Kim. Kim’s homelife sucked, her dad was as absent as one could get, but she was always considered part of their family. For the first time, it occurred to her that she’d never heard Kim talk about kids, let alone a permanent relationship. So different from Rick. Picturing the lonely young boy, desperate for companionship and permanency, was painful. She imagined a little wilderness explorer, talking to imaginary friends and using animals as substitute siblings. Lost in her thoughts, she was surprised when his hand wiped her cheek, coming away wet.
“I’m thirty-four years old, Rachael. I’ve dated. I’ve been in love. I’ve been engaged. I’ve been hurt. I’ve learned a lot about what I do and don’t want in a partner. And if I met the right woman, if we loved each other and it felt right . . .” His serious expression betrayed his casual shrug. “If that all happened, I would probably not wait long. I’d try to figure out if it was what she wanted too, sooner rather than later. And I’d probably act on it. Sooner rather than later.”
Animal Attraction Page 20
