by Cindy Kirk
“He’s meeting with some of the guys about Keenan’s appeal.”
Some of the guys. Tripp?
Anna blinked away the image of tousled blond hair and blue eyes. “Do you think your brother will get a new trial?”
“The petition has been filed.” Betsy placed the heavy tumblers filled with ice and tea on the coasters on the coffee table before taking a seat on the sofa. “I want it to happen so badly I can taste it. But, like I’ve said before, I’m trying not to get my hopes up. That’s why I decided to stay home tonight. If it all falls through, I’ll be devastated.”
Anna sighed. “I know the feeling.”
“What happened with you and Tripp, Anna?” Betsy appeared genuinely puzzled. “Did he get scared? Is that why he called it off?”
Anna stiffened. This was the part of the gossip that infuriated her. The assumption that Tripp had been the one to call things off. “Actually, I broke up with him.”
“You’re kidding.” The shock on Betsy’s face would have been laughable at any other time.
Anna felt oddly disappointed.
“You’ve loved him since you were a teenager,” Betsy continued, and Anna realized that having a friendship that went way back wasn’t always a good thing.
She took a sip of tea, carefully schooling her features. “I’m not the one for him.”
“Is this about Gayle?” Not bothering with plates or forks, Betsy lifted a slice of pizza from the box and took a bite. “After seeing the two of you together...I really thought he was over her.”
Before Anna could speak, Puffy strutted back into the room and hopped onto a nearby chair.
Anna shifted uncomfortably beneath the Pomeranian’s unyielding stare. In her arms, Nathan began to stir.
Betsy dropped her slice onto a plate and reached for her baby. “I’ll put him in his Pack ’n Play. That way we can keep an eye on him.”
Giving up the warm bundle snuggled against her chest was hard, but Anna handed the baby to her friend, hoping this interruption would be a perfect opportunity to change the subject. Once Betsy resumed sitting, Anna smiled. “What did you call that thing?”
“Pack ’n Play.” Betsy reached over and took her hand. “Do you really want to talk about baby equipment?”
“More than I want to talk about Tripp,” she quipped.
A look of compassion settled over Betsy’s face. “Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” To her horror, tears welled in her eyes. “Or him.”
She blinked rapidly at Betsy and Puffy. Both had pity in their eyes. “He was mounting a campaign for mayor and didn’t even tell me.”
“He never mentioned it?”
“Well, maybe once,” Anna grudgingly admitted, “in passing.”
Betsy thoughtfully chewed on a bite of pizza. “Is that why you broke up with him? Because he withheld that fact?”
There was no condemnation in her tone, only curiosity.
“That’s right.” Anna lifted the glass of tea to her mouth with shaky hands.
Puffy barked once, her dark eyes firmly fixed on Anna.
Puzzled, Anna glanced at Betsy. “What does she want?”
“She doesn’t believe that’s the whole story,” Betsy said with an airy wave. “Neither do I.”
Anna shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, so maybe the reason is a little more complicated.”
She found herself slanting a glance at Puffy, who remained silent. Apparently the Pom found her answer acceptable as far as it went. The dog’s deep brown eyes bored into her, demanding she further explain. “I have all these jumbled-up feelings I can’t decipher.”
“I think I know you pretty well.” Betsy’s voice was solemn, her eyes serious. “Do you mind if I take a whack at it?”
“Yes, I mind,” Anna retorted.
Betsy grinned. “Well, I’m going to give you my theory anyway.”
Anna settled back against the sofa and crossed her arms. “If you feel you must,” she said stiffly.
“When you were growing up, you focused your romantic fantasies on Tripp, not only because he was good-looking and kind, but unattainable.”
Confused, Anna cocked her head.
“It’s the same reason teenagers fall in love with rock stars and actors. They’re safe. You know you’re free to fantasize and love them from afar.”
“But I never stopped liking Tripp.”
Puffy gave a staccato bark.
Anna whirled toward the dog. “It’s true.”
“Think carefully,” Betsy urged.
“He was at another school,” Anna protested. “And in love with Gayle. Then, married.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I didn’t think of him in the same way then.”
Puffy stared for a second, then bent to lick a paw.
“What about after that jerk you were dating disappointed you?”
“I may have thought about him a time or two after that,” Anna admitted.
“You refocused on Tripp because you were scared. You didn’t want to give your heart to someone new because you might be hurt. Tripp was safe. He was married. And even after he lost his wife, he was on the East Coast, two thousand miles away.”
Anna pondered the words and swore she saw Puffy nod.
“What does that have to do with now?” Anna asked. “I’ve gotten to know Tripp well since he moved back, even better once we began dating.”
“I’m thinking that once you got to know him, the blinders were off. You didn’t like what you saw.” Betsy’s tone was matter-of-fact. “That’s natural. We build someone up in our mind and often once we really get to know them, we discover they aren’t that great of a person.”
“Tripp Randall is a wonderful man,” Anna said indignantly, sitting bolt-upright. “He’s caring. He’s compassionate. I won’t allow you to speak badly of him.”
Betsy lifted a glass of tea to her lips, partially hiding a smile. “If he’s so wonderful, why break up with him?”
The decision to call it quits with Tripp had been an impulsive one, brought on by a stressful day. But the underlying reasons that had troubled her, that had fueled that decision, remained. “While I think Tripp cares about me, perhaps even loves me, I’m not his soul mate.”
Anna stumbled over the word, remembering the conversation she’d overheard between Tripp and Hailey. “I know you think what I felt for Tripp when I was young was simply infatuation. But there was this moment, when I was fourteen, and our eyes locked...”
Her heart fluttered, remembering the connection. “I looked into his eyes and, for me, something clicked.” Anna gave a little laugh. “It was probably just an overactive adolescent imagination.”
Betsy—and Puffy—remained silent.
“I could lie and tell myself that even if he didn’t love me quite as much, I loved him enough for both of us. But I can’t do it. I want to be first in my husband’s heart. I want him to kiss me senseless—anytime, anywhere—simply because he’s crazy about me. I don’t think that’s asking for too much.” By the time she finished, Anna was breathing hard, as if she’d just run a long race.
A race she’d lost. A race that was over before it had began.
Puffy jumped off the chair and hopped up on the sofa. The Pomeranian rested her head on Anna’s lap and expelled a heavy sigh.
“My sentiments exactly, Puffball.” Anna stroked the dog’s soft hair and let a wave of sadness wash over her. “Sometimes life sucks.”
* * *
I need more. I deserve more.
The last words Anna had said to him played over and over in Tripp’s mind, like one of those records his father spun on his old-fashioned turntable. Tripp’s business mind had mentally noted all the co
mplaints she’d lodged. He didn’t talk to her about Gayle, hadn’t immediately told her about meeting Poppy for lunch or mentioned he was conferring with someone about mounting a campaign for mayor.
His anger rose. What if he didn’t want to discuss Gayle with her? Most women would be happy not to have a man bring up a former woman in his life. And he had told her about Poppy and about looking into running for mayor.
Tripp raked his fingers through his hair. Why hadn’t she just told him the truth? She’d wanted out. Anna just plain didn’t want him anymore.
The thought was a lightning bolt to his heart, the pain hot and searing. Strong enough to bring moisture to his eyes, which he quickly wiped away.
It was for the best, he told himself. If losing her now hurt this much—and he was man enough to admit that it did hurt—how much worse would it have been in a year? Ten?
The doorbell rang and Tripp bit back an expletive. All morning the buzzer had sounded with kids selling candy, popcorn and cookies. And today was just the start. They’d be coming all week. So far he’d bought from every one of them. He didn’t need any more candy, cookies or interruptions.
He strode across his living room and jerked open the door. “Look, I already bought—”
“Good morning to you, too.” His mother slipped past him and stood poised by the living room sofa. “Can I stay if I promise not to try to sell you anything?”
Tripp grabbed pieces of newspaper off the floor and kicked a pair of shoes behind a chair. Since Anna had walked out of his life, he’d found it difficult to summon much energy for household chores. “Is Dad okay?”
“He’s fine. Sends his love. I’m here because you haven’t returned my calls. Your office said you were working from home.” Her brows furrowed in motherly worry. “You look terrible.”
“I’m okay.” Every day was easier, he told himself, though he recognized the lie. “Great, in fact.”
She settled herself on the sofa. “I heard you and Anna aren’t together anymore.”
He braced himself, ready for her to expound on how perfect they were for each other and what a fool he was for letting her go. God knew he’d heard that little sermon enough the past couple of days. That was one of the reasons he’d decided to work from home today. He couldn’t stand the sympathetic looks and the advice.
“I’m sorry,” his mother said.
He widened his eyes in surprise.
“I know you’re hurting, son,” she said softly. “Is there anything I can do?”
His laugh was devoid of humor. “I thought you’d be telling me that I need to go to her, to make amends for whatever it was I’d done. Telling me you love her and she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“There’s no need for me to say it.” His mother leaned forward. “You know all those things. But for whatever reason, that’s not the path you’ve chosen to take.”
Tripp dropped down into a chair to face her. He blew out a breath. “It’s not that I don’t want to make amends. I just think that perhaps it’s better this way.”
“Do you love her?” The question was so soft and low that for a second he wondered if he’d only imagined it.
“I do,” he said, then decided to bare his soul. “I believe I love her more than I did Gayle. Does that shock you?”
His mother’s gaze searched his. “Why should that shock me?”
“Because Gayle and I were together forever.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Yet, things were often hard between us. With Anna, everything seems easy.”
“To be fair, there will be difficult times with Anna. Anytime you’re with someone a long time, there are valleys as well as peaks. That said, I do believe you and Anna are a better match.”
“That’s what Gayle thought.” He gave a harsh chuckle. “I can’t count the number of times she told me to leave, to go to Anna.”
His mother’s eyes widened. “You and Anna were involved while you were married?”
“No. No, of course not.” Tripp closed his eyes for a second and gathered his composure. “Can I get you something to drink? I don’t have much, but—”
“Why would Gayle say such things to you?”
“She was jealous. Way back when we were in high school, she told me she didn’t think Anna was pretty. I disagreed. She got upset and we had a big fight. It was around the time her parents split.”
“When her mother found out her father had been cheating on her for years,” his mother mused.
“I put it off to that, but it got so every time we fought she’d bring up Anna. Then she started saying Anna would be better for me. It hurt.” Tripp leaned forward and met his mother’s gaze. “I loved my wife. I was faithful to her, body, mind and soul.”
“I know, son.” His mother reached over and squeezed his hand. “In her heart, Gayle knew that, too.”
They sat in silence for several heartbeats.
“Losing her and the baby...” Tripp visibly shuddered. “I never want to go through that again.”
His mother’s eyes were solemn. “It hurts to lose someone you love.”
“I can’t go through that again,” Tripp repeated. “I won’t go through that again.”
“I’m afraid you don’t get that option,” his mother said softly. “None of us do. Death is a part of life.”
Tripp lifted his chin. “I won’t put myself in that position.”
His mother tilted her head. “You love me and your father.”
“Of course.”
“And Hailey.”
“Yes.” He pulled his brows together. “But what—”
“Something could happen to any of us at any time,” she said quietly. “You’re already in the position you’re determined to avoid.”
“My feelings for Anna are so strong already that—” He stopped. “I can’t imagine how much stronger they’ll be in five, twenty or even forty years.”
His mother placed a hand on his arm, stopping his words. “It isn’t the loss you should fear, but never loving. Finding that someone is rare. It’s a very special gift, one not to be tossed aside lightly.”
Silence sat between them for several seconds.
“If I lose Frank—” his mother paused and cleared her throat “—I’ll take the pain and be thankful for all the wonderful years he and I’ve shared.”
Tripp leaned back in his chair and dug his thumbs against his nose. “I blew it.”
“Probably.”
He jerked his head up. She sounded almost cheery.
“Don’t you understand? I’ve lost Anna. I’ve lost the woman I love.”
“Oh, honey, don’t be ridiculous. Anna loves you. She simply needs to know you love her, too.” His mother rose, stooping to pick up her handbag. “All you have to do is convince her.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The flowers started arriving shortly after Anna got home from work on Friday. By eight, they filled her entire living room. Deep red long-stemmed roses, flirty bunches of daisies in a rainbow of colors, exotic Asiatic lilies.
Even though they didn’t come with a card, she knew who’d sent them. She sat in her living room, breathing in the heavenly scents and wondered what Tripp was trying to do.
Impress her? Well, he’d succeeded. Curry her favor? That was harder. Because as much as she loved the fragrant bouquets, that didn’t change the fact that she wanted—needed—to occupy the top spot in his heart.
She’d tried to reach him on his cell after the first six bouquets had arrived. Either he deliberately wasn’t answering or he was too busy ordering more flowers.
When the doorbell rang, her heart didn’t even flutter. It had lurched the first dozen times she’d answered it. But each time it had either been more flowers or a child hawking candy, cookies or popcorn.
She pulled it open and froze.
Tripp stood on the stoop, a bottle of wine in one hand, a book in another.
“Hi.” She managed to push the word past a suddenly dry throat.
“Hi.” His blue eyes were dark and watchful. “May I come in?”
She stepped back.
“I brought a bottle of wine.” He held up the bottle of burgundy. “Your favorite. I thought we could have some and talk.”
“What’s there to talk about?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
His gaze met hers. “A lot.”
She shivered. Having him this close was pure torture. He wore jeans and boots and a blue long-sleeved Henley that turned his eyes the color of the sky. And he smelled yumm— She stopped herself. “I’ll get glasses and a corkscrew.”
He was standing by the sofa when she returned from the kitchen. She placed the glasses on the table and took a seat on one end of the overstuffed couch and gestured for him to do the same.
“Thanks for the flowers.” She gestured with her hand all around her. “They’re, uh, beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
Heat rose up her neck. What was there about this man that turned her into a blushing fool? He expertly uncorked the bottle and poured the burgundy into the glasses. He handed one to her and lifted the other. “I remember everything you said the last time we were together. As you recall, I didn’t say much.”
Anna brought the glass to her lips and took a sip, barely noticing the taste. “What was there to say?”
She glanced down at the book he’d brought, now sitting on the coffee table. Anna lifted it, then tilted her head to one side, puzzled. “Good to Great?”
“You’ve read it.”
“A long time ago,” she admitted.
“While it’s dated, a lot of the concepts still ring true.”
“I don’t really remember much about it.” Anna shrugged. “The last time I picked it up was years ago, in a high school business class.”
