Needing Nicole (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy Book 2)

by Patricia Kay

  About five minutes later, the front door opened and Justin emerged. “Lisette,” he called. “Come in.” His voice rang with happiness. “You too, Nicole. Come back in.”

  Nicole let Lisette go ahead of her. Her heart was pounding as if she were a major player in the drama unfolding, and she could only imagine how nervous her aunt must feel, how Elise and Justin must feel. Would they be able to handle this? Would it really be okay, as she’d assured her aunt? She needn’t have worried.

  Lisette and Elise looked at each other for perhaps five seconds, then Lisette moved forward. She smiled. “You are every bit as beautiful as I imagined you to be, ma fille,” she said.

  A kind of radiance slowly spread over Elise’s face, and with shining eyes, and a tremulous smile on her lips, she walked into Lisette’s arms.

  Just at that moment, the grandfather clock in the hall struck the noon hour, and as the sound of the chimes permeated the room, Nicole knew this family had been reborn.

  Chapter 15

  Jenny was leaving New Orleans Monday morning. Nicole said her goodbye to Jack’s sister on Sunday night.

  “Chin up,” Jenny whispered as they hugged.

  Nicole tried to smile. She had had a hard time keeping a smile on her face once they’d left Abbeville. Even thoughts of the wonderful reunion between Elise, Justin and Lisette didn’t help. As they drove back to New Orleans, all three seemed lost in their own thoughts.

  Jenny tried to initiate conversation. She talked about Elise and her future. “Isn’t it wonderful that your uncle and aunt want Elise to come and live with them? I’m thrilled for her. This is what she needs. To belong to someone. To feel a part of a loving family unit.”

  Nicole and Jack agreed, but neither pursued the subject, and after a few more tries at conversation, Jenny subsided into silence, too.

  And then they were at Jenny’s hotel, and it was time to say goodbye.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty in the morning,” Jack said before getting back into Nicole’s car. “That should get you to the airport in plenty of time.”

  “Are you sure it’s okay for you to drive?” Jenny asked.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” His tone didn’t invite argument.

  Nicole felt as if someone had put a rock into her stomach. She and Jack didn’t talk after they left Jenny. They rode the rest of the way to Nicole’s cottage with a strained silence between them. The rock in her stomach grew heavier with each passing mile.

  When would Jack leave? Would this be their last night together? Was he planning to tell her goodbye tonight? By the time they reached her house, she was so afraid, her body felt numb.

  The tense silence continued as Nicole pulled her car into the garage, as they walked together to her house, as she unlocked the front door. Jack turned on lights, and Nicole headed immediately for the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door, slipped down the toilet lid, sat on the seat and let the tears that had been bottled up for hours slide down her face.

  She wept silently. She didn’t want to make a scene. She didn’t want him to feel guilty or sorry for her. She certainly didn’t want him to stay with her out of pity or some misguided sense of loyalty. Even though she didn’t know how she’d go on living once he left, she knew if he stayed with her for any of those reasons, he would grow to resent her.

  Eventually he would hate her.

  Finally she stopped crying. She washed her face with cold water, looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. God, she looked terrible. Her face was blotchy-looking. Her eyes looked red.

  She washed her face again, then carefully applied makeup, more than she usually wore. She brushed her hair, looked at herself again. Well, she might not look wonderful, but she looked presentable. Maybe he wouldn’t know she’d been crying. Just as the thought formed, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

  “Nicole? Are you all right?”

  She gritted her teeth, forced herself to answer brightly. “I’m fine. I’ll be right out.”

  When she opened the door, she could see him in the kitchen. He was leaning against the kitchen counter. His head was bowed. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked into the kitchen. “Well,” she said, “are you hungry? Do you want a sandwich or something?”

  He looked up. Lines of weariness were etched around his eyes. “I’m not hungry. But you go ahead. Fix yourself something.”

  Nicole shook her head. “I’m not really hungry either.”

  He straightened up, walked toward her. His eyes were filled with tenderness as he gazed down at her face. He raised one hand and slowly stroked her cheek.

  Nicole closed her eyes, savoring the gentle touch. Her heartbeat was slow and steady. The kitchen clock ticked loudly.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Jack murmured, slipping his arm around her and pulling her close.

  She nodded, the ache around her heart too acute to speak.

  That night their lovemaking had a poignancy that Nicole had never felt before. For her part, she knew this might be the last time, or at least one of the last times she and Jack would be together, and her passion was tempered with pain, her ecstasy with anguish, her fulfillment with fear.

  They made love slowly and with great gentleness, then lay together in their favorite spoon position and drifted off to sleep. They didn’t speak, as if by avoiding words, they would avoid the inevitability of their parting.

  * * *

  Jack took Jenny to the airport Monday morning, then went to the hospital to have his shoulder checked.

  The doctor who checked him said, “You’re healing up nicely.”

  “Is it okay for me to drive back to Houston?” Jack asked.

  “Don’t see why not, especially since this wound is in your left shoulder—and you’re right-handed.”

  Jack walked out of the hospital and into the bright December day. He got into his car, but instead of turning the key in the ignition, he just sat there. The same thought pounded through his brain. There was no longer any reason for him to stay in New Orleans.

  No reason except Nicole.

  But he’d been over and over their situation. He loved her. He thought she loved him. Those were the two positives. But Nicole wanted so many things he could never give her. And she deserved those things. She deserved a man who would make her first in his life, a man who would build her a secure future, a man who could put down roots and be contented.

  What it boiled down to was that Jack wasn’t good enough for her. And he knew it. Nicole was the finest person he had ever known. With the exception of his sister, Nicole was the only woman he’d ever known who was completely giving and unselfish, completely loving and generous, completely open and honest. She was a wonderful woman and a wonderful mother.

  She deserved the best.

  And she’d never get the best if Jack kept cluttering up her life.

  He had to leave. To be fair to her, he shouldn’t prolong this episode between them. Oh, he knew she’d be hurting when he left, but she’d get over him. A woman as beautiful and sweet and passionate and exciting and terrific as Nicole would soon be beating potential suitors off with the proverbial stick.

  At the thought, Jack’s guts twisted.

  How could he stand thinking about Nicole with another man? He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but unwanted images refused to disappear: someone else touching her, someone else kissing her, someone else burying himself in her sweetness, her warmth.

  Jack hit the steering wheel with the heel of his right hand. He swore out loud. Don’t be a jerk. Get out of her life. Get out of her life now!

  * * *

  The day inched along. But finally it was five o’clock. Finally it was time to clean off her desk. Finally it was time to go home.

  But when Nicole got there, she found herself dreading seeing Jack. Dreading hearing what she knew she would soon be hearing. She pulled into the driveway, left her car running, went to open the garage door.

  Suddenly h
er heart slammed against her chest.

  Jack’s Miata wasn’t there!

  Fear barreled through her. Her throat closed up. Her hands shook. No. No. No. No. He’s just out running an errand. There’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s not gone. Of course he’s not gone. He would never just leave. Somehow she managed to pull the car into the garage. Somehow she managed to walk back to her house. Somehow she managed to get the door unlocked.

  The minute she walked in she knew.

  But still she clung to a thread of hope. “No, no, please God, no,” she whispered as she headed straight for her bedroom. She looked at her dresser, devoid of Jack’s cologne, his hairbrush, his deodorant. Vainly trying to keep from crying, she flung open the closet. “No, no!” she wailed. “No.” The tears gushed out of her eyes, poured down her face. All his clothes were gone.

  He was gone.

  Her heart pounded like a wild thing, and she was shaking so badly she could hardly walk. She staggered to the bed, collapsed onto the side. “No,” she whispered brokenly. “Oh, Jack. Oh, Jack.”

  Then she saw the folded piece of notebook paper sitting propped next to the phone on her bedside table. She reached for it. She was crying so hard she could hardly read it.

  Dearest Nicole,

  I know I should have waited until you came home, but I wanted to avoid what I knew was going to be painful for both of us. I have gone back to Houston. I will never forget the time we spent together. I will never forget you. You are the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known, and I hope you’ll find the happiness you deserve.

  Sobbing aloud, Nicole crumpled the note in her hand, then threw it against the wall. She flung herself across the bed, beating her fists against the mattress. “Damn you, Jack Forrester. Damn you. Damn you forever.”

  She cried until there were no more tears left. Then, like an old woman, she dragged herself up and into the kitchen. Her head was pounding like someone had taken a hammer and driven nails into it. She gulped down some aspirin, then turned out the lights. She went back into her bedroom, stripped off her clothes, tossing them around indiscriminately.

  Then she crawled into bed and lay there huddled under the covers. The darkness closed around her, and she wondered if she’d ever stop feeling the pain.

  * * *

  “Jack, you’ve been like a bear with a sore paw for the last week,” Rebecca Post, one of his co-workers, said. “What the devil is bothering you? You’re not angry about my getting the Moscow assignment, are you?”

  Jack looked up. Rebecca, an attractive journalist with whom he’d worked many times in the past, stood in front of his desk. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her khaki slacks and her green eyes were filled with curiosity.

  He grimaced. “Of course I’m not angry about your assignment.”

  She gave him a reflective look. “Then what’s bugging you? It’s not like you to grouch at everyone like you’ve been doing.” She pushed her straight blond hair back from her face.

  He sighed. He knew damn well what was wrong with him. He was going through withdrawal, the most painful, excruciating withdrawal anyone could ever experience. He missed Nicole. He missed her so profoundly that it was like a piece of him was gone. There was a great emptiness inside him, and try as he might, he couldn’t seem to get past it.

  He’d been back in Houston for a little over a week. He had thought that the pain of leaving Nicole would fade, little by little.

  It hadn’t.

  Instead, each day the pain had intensified, until now it was like a great, gaping wound, throbbing and pulsing with a life of its own.

  He couldn’t eat.

  He couldn’t sleep.

  He couldn’t concentrate.

  He wished Gerald Crampton would give him a new assignment. Anything. Just to get him out of here. Maybe if he was sent to some remote jungle or some godforsaken desert or some place equally miserable, he’d be able to put thoughts of Nicole where they belonged: in the recesses of his memory where they could be trotted out occasionally to remember as a wonderful interlude in his life, but nothing more.

  But Gerald Crampton had said, “There’s nothing doing anywhere right now, Jack. Besides, I want you to go to London right after New Year’s. I want you to cover the summit meeting the president has planned. That’s only about ten days away, so it’d be crazy to send you somewhere else now.” He’d bitten down on his cigar. “Just enjoy the Christmas holidays with your family, and relax, for Christ’s sake.”

  Relax.

  As if he could.

  As if he wouldn’t sell his soul to relax. And forget.

  But each waking moment, and all of his dreams, were filled with images of a laughing, dark-eyed, dark-haired woman. A woman who could turn his blood into fire and his bones into water. A woman who could take him to the highest peak with a simple touch. A woman who could send him to the deepest recesses of hell.

  Which was exactly where he was now.

  * * *

  “Nicole, what’s wrong, chere? Are you sick?”

  Nicole looked at her mother. “No, Mama, I’m fine.”

  “Sure, you’re fine. That’s why you won’t eat my cookin’, that’s why you mopin’ around the house all day long, that’s why you don’ want to go to the fais-dodo with your brothers and sister.”

  “Mama, just because I’m trying to lose a little weight and don’t feel like dancing tonight doesn’t mean I’m sick,” Nicole said tiredly. “I’ve been working hard lately. I need rest.”

  “I’ve never known you to pass up a night of dancin’ chere, unless you was sick... or in love.”

  Nicole swallowed. She could feel her eyes filling with tears. God, she was weak. If she couldn’t even survive a little motherly questioning without breaking down, how did she hope to survive the rest of her life?

  Arlette sat down at the kitchen table. “Chere, ” she said softly. “What happened with you and Jack?”

  The gentle question, the love shining in her mother’s eyes, were too much for Nicole. She flung herself into her mother’s arms, weeping like a child. “Oh, Mama, what am I going to do?” she cried. “I thought it was going to get easier, but it hasn’t.”

  * * *

  “Jack, I’m tired of looking at your long face,” Jenny said. “I thought we were supposed to be finding something for you to give to Mother.” It was midafternoon the day before Christmas Eve, and Jack and Jenny were standing on the second level of the Galleria, overlooking the ice skating rink. All around them last-minute shoppers rushed by, laughing and talking. Christmas carols sounded from the loudspeaker system, and the very air was charged with excitement and festivity.

  Everyone, it seemed, was into the Christmas spirit.

  Everyone, that is, except Jack.

  Jack didn’t answer. He knew he was acting like a lovesick idiot. He just couldn’t seem to help himself.

  Jenny sighed. “Jack, look at me.”

  He turned. His sister’s blue eyes were filled with compassion. She smiled gently. She looked particularly lovely today, he thought, and wished he were better company for her.

  “If you love her, why did you leave her?” Jenny asked.

  He shrugged. His chest felt tight.

  “Talk to me,” Jenny urged softly. “Maybe I can help.”

  “No one can help.” Nothing could help. The only thing that could help would be having Nicole here, right now, and that was impossible.

  “Try me.”

  He sighed heavily. “Okay. Let’s go get a drink or something. Then we can talk.”

  Over coffee in one of the small restaurants, Jack said, “I’ve never been in love before.”

  Jenny smiled. “I know.”

  “I’m not sure I like it.”

  She chuckled. “I know that feeling, too.” She reached across the table, touched his hand. “Come on. Tell me what went wrong.”

  His gaze met hers. “Nothing went wrong, not the way you mean. I just had to leave her, that’s all. And it hurts.
It hurts like hell.”

  Jenny’s tone was sympathetic. “Why did you have to leave her?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I’m not marriage material. I traipse all over the world. My home, if you can call it that, is a one-bedroom apartment in Houston. Nicole has a three-year-old-daughter, and she wants a regular family life—a home, a husband who’s there at night, and more kids.”

  “And you can never give her that.”

  “No. At least not that way.”

  “Don’t you ever want to get married, Jack? Haven’t you ever considered it?”

  He shrugged again. “Sure, I’ve thought about it. I mean, hell, I’m not crazy about always being alone, but I’ve never met a woman I wanted to marry before Nicole, and she wouldn’t be happy sharing my kind of life.”

  “You asked her?”

  “No.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t see.” But a tiny spark of hope flared inside him. He stared at his sister, his heart thudding.

  She met his gaze squarely.

  “Maybe I should have asked her,” he said slowly.

  Jenny shrugged. “No, I’m sure you’re right, Jack. You’re much better off finding someone who just wants a casual relationship, someone who just wants to have a good time. You’ll be happier that way.”

  “I won’t be happier that way.”

  “Nicole needs stability, security, family life.”

  “I could give her all those things.”

  “But you travel all over—”

  “Maybe Nicole wouldn’t mind that.”

  “No, Jack. You were right to leave her. I mean, after all, how much security and stability can a person have traveling all over the world? Just because the two of you would be together, just because you love each other—”