Why was she even thinking about that now?
She had to get things straight with him if they were going to coexist in the same town. She wasn’t going to back down now.
“No, I just—I wondered if we could have a word in private?” she said.
“Sure,” he said, waving a hand toward his office.
She walked in, and what she saw surprised her. He’d clearly inherited Chief McGregor’s massive glass-topped desk, and it was covered with stacks of papers. But in the deep windowsill behind the desk there were…plants. A philodendron climbing all around the window frame and headed to a nearby bookshelf. Palms and other houseplants and even a cactus.
A blue-and-black-striped rug sat tidily under his desk and the walls were painted a light blue. A cluster of framed photos hung on the wall near the desk, including one of Chief McGregor linking arms with three smiling cop buddies, arms around each other’s shoulders. A German shepherd lying in a dog bed in the corner perked up his ears as soon as she walked in.
“Police dog?” she asked.
He nodded. “Champ’s working,” he said, his mouth lifting at the corners.
“I see.” She nodded as the dog trotted over for affection. “Can I—pet him?” The dog nudged his nose against her palm until she did, taking that decision off the table.
“Actually, he fell a little short of passing the K9 exams as a puppy,” Colton said. “He’s my dog now. I bring him to work with me most days.”
“You’re a handsome boy,” Sara said as she scratched behind the dog’s dark ears. The dog sniffed her hair and licked her face. “And ferocious, I see.” She took a seat in one of the simple navy upholstered chairs on the other side of his desk. “Look, I came here to get something straight between us. Leonore overheard what you said to my dad this afternoon about—about maybe being a little more—flexible—and I—maybe you were trying to help, but…”
Well, she was quite articulate, wasn’t she? She thought of all those years when Colton had definitely not ever tried to help her. Why on earth he’d be interested in doing so now she couldn’t fathom. The Colton Walker she’d seen over the past two weeks seemed like someone she’d never met before.
She tried again. “I appreciate what you were trying to do, but I have to handle my dad on my own. If it looks like I need help to do that, I’ll never gain anyone’s respect. Plus Leonore and Glinda are convinced you’re sweet on me, and that is not only insane but the last thing I need to contend with in the office—or in town, because if that gets around, neither of us will have any peace.”
When she’d been a teenager with braces and pimples, she’d had no words. She’d been completely and utterly tongue-tied in front of him, intimidated by both his good looks and by whatever mean things he could utter. But now the playing field between them had been leveled. And Tagg was no longer in the middle. It was just the two of them.
A peculiar feeling slid through her. That they were both different people now. That this was a completely different ball game, and she wasn’t sure of the rules.
He leaned forward a little. A desk lamp was on, shining a blue-white beam over all the paperwork and the dozen sticky notes marching in a neat row down his desk. It also highlighted his great bone structure—his strong jaw, that five o’clock shadow already well on its way to becoming a full beard. He stared at her, mulling over his reply.
“For what it’s worth, I respect you.” He paused to let that sink in. “Since I’ve been chief, I’ve become a problem solver. It’s what I do. I was just trying to be helpful. I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing.” He tapped a pencil on his desk, which worked his forearm muscles, which were…impressive. Plus he was tanned. And he had nice hands. He used to have great hair too, but it was short now, no nonsense. Like he’d shaved all his vanity off.
Sara sucked in a breath. That was it? She’d expected…resistance. Anger. At least sarcasm. But an apology?
She was completely thrown.
“Another thing, Red, I know you’re eager to get your dad’s office up to snuff and running efficiently but you might just want to…relax a little. This isn’t Columbia. Not that some things don’t need changing around here but big adjustments take time, you know what I mean? Just my two cents.” He didn’t say it in a know-it-all way. In fact, he sounded concerned. Like a friend. Except the feelings coursing around inside her right now weren’t exactly giving off a friends vibe.
“I get it. Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that.” She cringed. God, could she babble any worse?
He leaned back in his chair. “I have something else to ask you too, while you’re here.”
“OK, what is it?” He seemed so calm. When it felt like a flock of geese had suddenly overtaken her stomach.
“It’s my sister. She needs a physical before she starts college.”
A simple enough request. “Oh, sure, of course. There’s still time to get her scheduled for that.”
He cleared his throat. “I want to make sure she has…all the facts. Before she goes off to school.”
“Facts?” What he was really asking suddenly dawned. He wanted her to make sure Hannah was informed about sex. “Oh, facts. Of course. Sure, I’d be happy to see Hannah. Just have her call the office.”
“Great. Thanks. Anything else we have to talk about?”
He stood and walked around his desk until he was mere feet away. She stood too, but she still had to look up—way up—to see him, a definite disadvantage. And God, he was tall. Even though he was a little disheveled at the end of the day, he looked devastatingly handsome. And—something she’d never noticed before—he had beautiful, full lips. Plus he smelled good, a light, barely there scent that reminded her of the woods after a rain. She took a step back, trying to escape his pheromone field, but he moved a step closer, spearing her with that deep-blue gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words got stuck somewhere. Hot and cold flushed through her, and her heart suddenly felt like it was trying to beat itself right out of her chest. “Colton, I—”
That was all she managed. His mouth turned up in the slightest quirk. He was amused! Oh God, who would’ve known a simple apology could be so…arousing?
She shook her head. Swallowed hard and backed up with a step so big she knocked into one of the navy chairs.
How could she allow herself to be so flummoxed over him? It suddenly dawned on her that maybe all his nice behavior was a reaction to something else—his behavior last year. The bachelor party. “Look, you don’t have to make up for—”
He frowned. “For what?”
All those years of torment? Culminating in that awful bachelor party that got so, so out of control? Maybe his trying to help her out today had been a result of his guilt over that.
“For the past.”
His eyes narrowed a little. “What about the past?” he asked.
“Maybe you’re trying to help me because you feel bad about things that have happened.”
“What are you talking about?” He looked completely clueless.
She sighed. Might as well come out with it. “The bachelor party.”
“Wait a minute.” He stepped back, almost as if startled. “You think I’m being nice to you because I feel bad about the bachelor party?”
Sara put her hands up in defense. “I don’t blame you for what happened. But maybe you’re trying to make up for that by trying to…help me.”
“I think you do blame me for what happened, if you think I’m trying to make up for something.”
“Well, things clearly got out of control. And maybe you feel guilty for that.” She slid her gaze over to his, which was lit up with anger.
“Guilty? You think I feel guilty for Tagg acting like an idiot? Maybe you need to ask him what happened instead of always assuming the worst about me.”
Fine. Except Tagg, that bastard, had never had the courage to explain his behavior. He’d just done this desperate, severing act to get out of their marriage. What other explanation did she re
ally need? So Colton was technically right, Tagg was the idiot. Except now Colton was pissed, and he wasn’t going to tell her anything either. And maybe Tagg was a nitwit, but it sure seemed that Colton was still loyal to him. “Looks like you and I are back to square one, Chief Walker.” Sara turned to go, but Colton held her back.
“No. No, we’re not. I want you to know.” He took a deep breath, and she had no idea what he could possibly say next. “I took Tagg home after the bachelor party and put him to bed. That’s how I left him. I should’ve stayed with him. Made sure he was OK. Made sure you’d be OK. I am sorry for that. And I never hired Val. She came with the cake. I had no idea.”
Her eyes filled with tears, even though she willed them not to. Took Tagg home? Put him to bed? And he’d still found Val. Sara closed her eyes. This shouldn’t be painful anymore, but the hard truth always was.
“I’m sorry, Sara.”
“You’re right,” she said, “I did assume the worst about you. I didn’t think you took anything seriously. I figured you sat by and watched things get out of control.”
“I should’ve cut him off. I wish I would have.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t a bachelor party mistake. He didn’t want to marry me. I knew as much. But thank you for telling me the truth.” She took a big breath and swiped at her eyes. “I’m late for dinner out with my family. I’d better be going.” She had no idea what time it was; all she knew was she had to get out of there.
“Let me give you a ride home.”
She shrugged away from his touch. “No, I—walking will be good, thanks.” Which made no sense if she was really late. She headed for the door, and frankly, she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
* * *
“How’s work going, sweetheart?” Rachel asked as the family settled around a large table on the patio at Giuseppe’s, where Sara’s family celebrated every graduation, birthday, and family event. Tagg and Sara had announced their engagement here, right on this very patio under the lovely wooden arbor covered with grapevines. The fact that he’d stood up to make a toast and smacked his head on a low-hanging branch should have been a sign that things would not go well for them.
Sara took a sip of her wine. “It’s going great,” she said. “Thanks for asking.”
Sara had learned long ago with Rachel to simply say things were just fine. While Rachel was kind, and they always got along, their relationship had never really deepened into something more. Maybe because of the simple fact that Rachel was not her mother. By the time her dad remarried, Sara was eighteen, and she and her sisters had become a tight network of support, together mothering Rafe. They’d learned not to need a mother anymore.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Rachel said with her usual enthusiasm. “Your dad is so thrilled to have you in the office.” And did she mention that Rachel also tended to speak for her father?
“We had a pretty good day today, eh, Dad?” She elbowed her dad playfully.
Sara decided to make the best of the evening. She was with family (except for Rafe, who was working, and Nonna, who was at her twice-monthly bingo night with her girlfriends), and it was a gorgeous night, the summer evening sweet smelling and warm, flowers overflowing from boxes rimming the patio, and tiny white lights twinkling everywhere.
Funny, though. She wasn’t really fretting about all the office issues she wanted to work on that had been at the forefront of her mind. Instead she had an image stuck in her mind of Colton in his cop uniform, bending down to pet his dog. That navy uniform showing off those baby blues, that muscle peeking out from his sleeves, those competent-looking hands.
Dear God, he’d taken Tagg home and put him to bed and still felt guilty he hadn’t done more. Yet she’d accused him of inciting things, riling things up. She’d thought the worst of him.
She rubbed her chest. It suddenly felt funny in there. Oh, Rachel was looking at her strangely. Probably wondering why she was staring off into space.
“Rachel, how’s the shop lately?” Sara asked. “One of these days we’ll have to have lunch.” If there was ever time for lunch. By noon the office was already backlogged, and today, like most days, she and her dad had both worked straight through the lunch hour.
“Oh, I’d love that. The shop is great. In fact, it’s going to be featured in the Lifestyle section of the Plain Dealer next month. Because of my trip to Italy and all the Renaissance antiques I brought back.”
“That’s really cool, Rach,” her sister Evie said. “I’m glad the shop’s doing so well.” She looked at Joe. “I love being home with the kids, but I miss working sometimes.” The fact that the rent on her studio at the art space had gone up too high for her to justify the expense of a sitter had factored into her decision to stay home with the kids, but Sara knew Evie really missed her pottery wheel.
Joe grabbed his wife’s hand. “I was thinking maybe we should turn the garage into a little studio for you.”
“A kiln is expensive,” she said.
“You should do it, Evie,” Sara said. “You’re so talented. Plus it would be good stress relief.” Evie threw everything she had into being an amazing mom, and Sara knew she loved being home with her kids. But she’d really loved being an artist too.
“I’m plenty busy with the kids right now, but…maybe.” She smiled at her husband and he winked back. Aww. They always were the perfect couple.
Which reminded her. “Don’t forget I’m babysitting next week for the Fourth,” Sara said.
“Oh, thank you,” Evie said. “The kids are already getting excited for the fireworks.”
“I am too.”
“OK, just so you know, Michael sometimes pees his pants when he gets excited, so nothing too thrilling.”
“Gotcha,” she said. Now that she was back home, she was really looking forward to being able to spend more time with her niece and nephew. She couldn’t wait to spoil them rotten.
Just then Gabby arrived with Malcolm, who looked like he just stepped off the cover of a Billionaire romance novel. Sara smiled politely and greeted them. It was obviously important to Gabby that he meet the family, so Sara owed it to her sister to try and keep an open mind.
“You all remember Malcolm, right?” Gabby said. “He’s a partner at his hedge fund group now.”
It was no accident Gabby shot a look at their father. That Malcolm was a hedge fund manager was sure to press a couple of acceptable-spouse buttons in their father’s mind. Seemed Sara wasn’t the only one of them to seek their father’s approval.
“Tell us, son, what kinds of funds do you manage?” her dad asked as he got up and leaned across the table to shake Malcolm’s hand.
“Only the lucrative kind, sir,” Malcolm said, slicking his hair back in a gesture that bespoke vanity. “I work for Wernor and Vescott downtown. We’re doing quite well. So rest assured, I can keep Gabriella in the style to which she’s accustomed.”
Sara took another sip of her wine. What the hell did that mean? Her sister made a great income on her own. Plus she hung out in sweats and flip-flops. She wasn’t “accustomed” to a life of wealth or leisure. Sara had forgotten a lot about Malcolm in the years since Gabby had broken up with him, but she was beginning to remember why she’d disliked him so much.
After the waiter brought more wine and poured some into everyone’s glass, Gabby cleared her throat. “Now that our drinks are finally here, I can tell you all the good news.” She paused. “We’re getting married.”
Sara choked on her wine, which promptly spilled down the front of her brand new cream-colored romper. She hurriedly dipped her napkin in water to try to flood the stain as exclamations went up around the table.
Gabby hadn’t even hinted about this to Sara in their conversations, which created a new wave of guilt. Maybe Sara had been too wrapped up with her own problems lately to really listen.
“How long have you two been dating?” her father asked, frowning. Rachel gently put her hand over his.
“We reconn
ected six weeks ago, Dad,” Gabby said. “But you only knew our mom that long, right?” She beamed at Malcolm. “We knew right away it was love.”
Malcolm beamed right back, which was a little reassuring. He was very Italian looking, tanned and toned, with a head of hair whose thickness rivaled John Stamos’s. His custom-tailored suit clung to his muscular frame like a wet suit, and his very nice haircut had probably cost more than their dinner. Sara could understand lust, maybe. But love?
She tried to reconcile this Malcolm with the guy she dimly remembered from Gabby’s college years. That Malcolm had worn seersucker pants and brightly colored polos with the collars lifted up. This Malcolm dressed better but was still showing signs of trying too hard to flaunt his wealth and status. But wait—just then he took Gabby’s hand and stared lovingly into her eyes before he addressed her father and Rachel. If Sara wasn’t mistaken, his eyes were a little teary. “I love your daughter, Dr. and Mrs. Langdon. More than anything.” Gabby blushed prettily.
“Well,” her father said judiciously, “congratulations.” Turning to Malcolm, he said, “If my daughter loves you, we will too. Welcome to our family.”
As everyone hugged and congratulated the happy couple, Sara thought it was a good thing Rafe wasn’t there. He wouldn’t be as accepting, at least outwardly, as their father. But she couldn’t help thinking their father was right. They owed it to Gabby to give him a chance.
“Let’s show them your ring, honey,” Malcolm said, holding up Gabby’s hand, which she’d been subtly hiding under the table. A diamond the size of a small snow globe gleamed and sparkled on her ring finger. Gabby had never wanted a snow globe. She’d wanted something out of the box, unique. Vintage, maybe. But flashy and enormous? Sara just couldn’t see it.
Sara chided herself. Maybe she was just being bitter and envious because of her own broken plans. She’d never been jealous of her sister, but maybe being back home was stirring up all her own conflicted emotions—and, let’s face it, loneliness. She could do better. Be more positive. For Gabby’s sake. Still, she couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling that shifted through her.
Then There Was You Page 11
