Cunningham, Pat - Legacy [Sequel to Belonging] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Pat Cunningham

  “She never stops,” Jeremy said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know how Annie and Gus keep up with her. Where does all that energy come from?”

  “Remember what I said about the sugar.” Shayla’s abandoned fries sat temptingly close to Colleen’s salad fork. Fries to thighs, she warned herself, but their siren call dragged her in. She reached over to pluck up a fat, greasy fry at the same moment Jeremy did. Their fingers collided. Something tingled between them like a jolt of static shock. She didn’t jerk back. Neither did he. “Hey. Get your own.”

  “I ate mine.”

  A glance at his tray confirmed it. Somehow his entire bag of large fries had vanished in between burgers. Taking advantage of her distraction, Jeremy snatched up the fry then handed it to her. He claimed a couple of smaller fries as compensation. “Help yourself. She won’t want them.”

  “Thanks.” The fry slid down her throat like a salty slice of heaven. All sorts of heaven, she thought, gazing into Jeremy’s eyes. Her psychic prickle kept muttering “taken,” but she found it easy to ignore.

  Between them they quickly polished off the fries. Conversation came in bursts while both kept an eye on Shayla. Colleen learned Jeremy was twenty-four, two years younger than herself—“Cougar cougar cradle robber!” she could hear Norelle hooting already—and was a part-time psych student living over in Collegeville, currently on summer break. He worked as a junior counselor at St. Jude’s Hospital under Gus Stanton’s mentorship. Once he had a few more classes and some seasoning under his belt, Gus planned to start easing him into his private practice.

  “Dr. Stanton’s retiring?” Colleen asked.

  “Never say that word to him. He intends to die at his desk at the age of one hundred and six.” Jeremy said this in profile because he was watching Shayla clamber up the slide. Colleen fought the urge to brush his hair back from his eyes, so she could see them more clearly.

  Dropping her stare from his face, she noticed for the first time what appeared to be ink on his upper left arm, partially hidden by the sleeve of his dark green tee. “Is that a tattoo?”

  “Hmm?” He dragged his attention away from Shayla and followed her nod to his bicep. “What, this? Yeah.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the whole image.

  The cartoony scarecrow in the jaunty straw hat took her by surprise. She hadn’t pictured Jeremy as a tat man. On second thought, however, the scarecrow’s long body, happy grin, and limber pose fit him perfectly.

  “I’ll bet there’s quite a story behind that,” she said.

  “Not much of one. It’s my nickname. My boyfriend’s the Tin Man.”

  Boyfriend. Oh. Oh. My. God. Well, that explained “Uncle Wally” and the married vibes. Thanks for the heads-up, psychic powers. Colleen went on smiling, while the waves of her half-formed hopes furiously dashed themselves against reality’s shore. “Scarecrow. Okay, I can see that. How long have you two been married?”

  “We’re not—wait, I guess we are. We’ve been together over a year now. We’re—what are you giggling about?”

  She didn’t even try to stop herself. “My friend at work thinks you’re hot. I’m picturing her face when I tell her.”

  “Oh. Well. I’m not looking for outside action. But tell her I appreciate it, would you?”

  “I’ll do that.” Colleen reined in the giggles. They’d picked up a hitch. Not helping, she told herself.

  Unexpectedly, he took her hand. “Friends are a whole different thing. Wallace wouldn’t yell if I made a new friend. Would you tell her that, too?”

  Friends. Okay, she could do the friend bit. She squeezed his hand. “Sure thing.”

  A startled yelp distracted them. Both automatically looked to the playground. Shayla had tumbled off the end of the slide. Jeremy surged to his feet, Colleen a split second behind. Before either could move, Shayla picked herself up, dusted off her skirt with a businesslike sweep, and darted back to the ladder. Colleen loosed her breath. Across the table from her, Jeremy did the same.

  “They should ban all playground equipment,” Colleen said. “Or else—”

  She realized she was still holding tight to Jeremy’s hand. He reached the same realization at the same time. He let her go with an apologetic little half smile. Her fingers tingled when his left them, as if they missed his touch already.

  “I should get Shayla home,” he said. “I’ll remember to tell Annie.”

  “Tell Annie?” she echoed vaguely.

  “About the sugar.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  At his call, the little girl returned to the table without a speck of protest. “Would you like to come on to the Stantons’?” Jeremy asked Colleen. “I can give you a ride home from there.”

  “No, thanks. I’ll be fine. I need to walk off those fries now.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Don’t go vibrated between them. Colleen couldn’t tell which of them had broadcast it first. “I’m sure,” she said firmly. If she didn’t shut it down now she’d be pining for weeks over something that could never be. Stay smart, stay sensible. Sensible had served her well over the years. “Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful meeting you. I’m glad to know Shayla’s in good hands.”

  “Me, too.” He smiled down at her but didn’t try to touch her again. So he had felt it, too. A sharp twinge of envy stabbed into her. Uncle Wally must be a helluva man. Lucky as all get-out, that was for sure.

  They parted in the parking lot. Colleen watched them both until they turned the corner, then set out for her own empty apartment. Perhaps someday she’d find someone. They might even manage to defy the odds and have a child together. Someday she’d sit at the Burger Barn with her husband and her own little girl. As long as she didn’t let Norelle push her at any more gay married men, things would be okay. In a slightly better mood now, she made her way home.

  That night she dreamed, but not about Jeremy. She dreamed of the Woods and the Waters.

  Chapter 2

  “You’re kidding me.” Norelle’s eyes widened then thinned down again. She and Colleen kept watch at the edge of the playground, where the shouts and laughter of the children masked their grown-up conversation. “He’s gay?”

  “And married to some guy named Wallace. They’ve got a place out in Collegeville. I told you he was taken.”

  “He’s lying. I watched the two of you together yesterday. That boy’s eyes were all over you, and his hands were itching to follow. If he’s gay, I’m Queen Latifah.”

  “It’s for real, Norelle. They’ve got matching tattoos and everything.”

  “What a pisser,” Norelle grumbled. “He should at least have the decency to wear a wedding ring, or carry a business card or something. ‘Hello, my name is Jeremy and I’m into guys, so don’t bother wasting your time.’ Are you going to be okay, Col?”

  Colleen sighed for the fifth time that morning. “I’ll survive, Norelle, I swear. He’s not the only man out there.”

  But he was the only one who’d piqued her interest in too long a time. Her head knew he was forbidden, but her body hadn’t gotten the news yet. Each afternoon when Jeremy arrived, her heart gave a lurch and her breath quickened. Stupid body. Didn’t it know any better?

  Thursday dawned hot and sunshiny as usual. By lunchtime clouds began to scud in off the Pacific, and by pickup time the sky had grown dark enough to prompt the streetlights to snap on. Colleen stood by the front window and eyed the threatening sky. “I thought they said it would be clear today.”

  “And the Channel 7 weather team scores another hit.” Norelle had already begun to line up the children at the door. “If it holds off until everybody gets home, I’ll be happy. A little help here?”

  Colleen turned from the window. Checking on the state of the sky had only been an excuse. She spotted Jeremy at once, under the elm by the gate with three moms and two dads. Shayla didn’t come in on Fridays. Today his pickup duty ended. She’d never see him again. She took Shayla’s hand and stayed with her in line. Norel
le smirked but had the grace not to comment.

  The moment Colleen stepped beyond the doorway a sense of dread enveloped her. She had the distinct feeling someone was staring at her with the hungry intensity cats displayed over injured birds. Her heartbeat fluttered with the same instinctive panic. She shot a look across the street toward where her psychic prickle insisted the danger emanated.

  There! No, that was just the mailbox. She blinked at it to be sure. For a second, she thought she’d seen a blur. No matter how hard she squinted, however, the mailbox remained solid and unthreatening.

  For God’s sake, Colleen, get a grip. Nobody’s there. You’re just sulky because Tall in the Saddle is riding off into the sunset. Back to his boyfriend, Mr. Kitty. She forced herself to turn her back on the mailbox and get back to her duties.

  One by one, she handed children over to their parents. That awful sensation of being spied on kept tugging at her attention. She didn’t even notice Jeremy come up behind her until Shayla pulled free to run to him. The part of her that wasn’t distracted by her imaginary watcher felt a stab of disappointment. She’d been keeping Shayla close to her, not only to protect the child but to prolong Jeremy’s presence.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you over there.”

  “No problem.” For the first time this week he didn’t smile at her. His gaze bypassed her face to fix beyond her shoulder, across the street. The sun had fled his storm-cloud eyes, leaving them hard and alert.

  “Well.” She swallowed. “I guess you’ll be going.”

  He grunted something and continued to stare over her shoulder. The sense of menace faded. Whatever had been watching her moved off to go watch something else. Her anxiety dropped several notches but didn’t go away.

  Shayla’s voice broke both their concentration. “Can we go? It’s gonna rain.”

  “Uh? Yeah. Sure, peanut.” He set his stare on Colleen. For a second the sun peeked through in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course I am. We have a security system here. Hotline to the police and the ambulance service.” Now why had she blurted that? She hadn’t actually seen anyone. She wondered if Jeremy had. “Because of the kids. If somebody falls off the jungle gym, we’re responsible.”

  He nodded brusquely. “Did you bring your car today?”

  “No. I’m only a couple blocks away.” All of a sudden those few blocks seemed like an endless distance. What if that spied-on feeling returned or turned into a stalky feeling? What if it turned into more than a feeling? “You know, I think I’ll ask Norelle to give me a lift. I’d hate to get caught in the rain.”

  He brightened immediately. “Good idea. It could open up at any second. I’d better get Shayla home.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” She couldn’t bring herself to say good-bye.

  He also hesitated. He leaned forward a fraction. For one thrilling moment, she thought he meant to kiss her. Then he pulled back, muttered, “See ya,” and hurried off with Shayla. Colleen managed to mask only some of her disappointment.

  With Jeremy gone, she finally looked around and was shocked to see how empty the yard had become in only a couple of minutes. Fearful of imminent rain, parents hustled their children into cars and hurried homeward. She checked the line of cars for an unfamiliar auto with Jeremy behind the wheel. No sign of him. If he’d brought a car, he’d have offered to drive her home. He was that kind of a person. She thought of her own car, sitting in its assigned space in the apartment complex lot, and prayed she wouldn’t regret her choice to walk to work this morning.

  The last parent ducked into his car and pulled out. Norelle had already gone back inside. Colleen headed for the door.

  Stop.

  The command hit her like a club, so powerfully she actually rocked on her heels. The spied-on feeling rushed over her anew, only now upped in intensity. It felt almost like physical claws in her flesh. Oddly, the deeper the claws sank in, the less it seemed to hurt.

  Slowly, as if caught in a nightmare, she turned to face that spot across the street. Still, she saw nothing. No, wait. Was that someone by the mailbox? Colleen blinked, and the blurry figure came into focus. It appeared to be a man, but she couldn’t be certain. A coat hid his body from his neck to his ankles, and a thick scarf shielded his throat. A broad-brimmed hat obscured his face. Was he smiling? Colleen thought he might be. She’d have to get closer to check.

  That’s it, pretty. Come to me. You’ve nothing to fear. We won’t hurt you. You belong with us.

  He hadn’t spoken aloud, she was certain of that. She must be hearing his voice in her head. The sensation stirred foggy memories she’d thought successfully buried. A voice like dry leaves, eyes like polished silver, the touch of fingers chilly as a corpse. The revulsion tied to the memories roiled up inside her like bile. She froze where she stood and refused to obey or even listen to that insistent call.

  Yet here was her foot, sliding forward as if pulled by a puppeteer’s string. Her other foot jerked after it. Then her stubborn streak kicked in. She planted her feet firmly on the blacktop.

  Go away! Leave me alone!

  The mental voice took on a sour sting. Come, pretty. Don’t be difficult. Scarlet eyes seemed to rush forward until they hung right before her face. They demanded obedience. She tried and failed to avert her own eyes. All by itself, her right foot moved again.

  A hand came down on her shoulder, and she nearly screamed.

  Colleen jerked her head around. Eyes the color of a storm-cloud snapped the scarlet spell. “Would you like to come have dinner with us?” Jeremy asked. “The Stantons, I mean. I can’t just walk out on you without saying a proper good-bye.”

  Reeling physically and psychically, she managed a weak, “Uhhh, dinner?”

  “I just called Annie, and it’s fine with her. She’s coming by to pick us up. Please say yes.”

  The cold voice attempted to reassert itself. Automatically, she reached for Jeremy. His solidity swept the last oily traces of its awful tones from her head. She straightened her back and made herself smile. “I’d love to.”

  “Great. Let’s go. I don’t like the looks of that sky.”

  It wasn’t the sky he was looking at, she noticed. He was watching the opposite side of the street while trying not to let on about it. He slid his arm around her shoulders and hustled her over to the elm, where Shayla played with an umbrella as tall as she was. Colleen snuck a glance back over her shoulder. The mailbox stood alone and innocuous. Now that she had Jeremy beside her, the whole episode seemed like some weird hallucination. Had she even seen or heard anyone at all?

  Jeremy, his hand firmly clasped around Shayla’s, stayed at her back while Colleen went in to gather up her sweater and purse. They lingered until Norelle got into her car and drove safely away. Outside once again, both of them carefully surveyed the street. Jeremy handed Colleen the umbrella and picked up Shayla.

  “Looks like Annie’s not here yet,” he said. “Wait, or start walking?”

  Colleen stole a look at the mailbox. The horrible sense of surveillance had edged in again. “Let’s start walking,” she said, and was relieved when he nodded. He also shot a look toward the mailbox, but didn’t say anything.

  He set a brutal pace, almost a trot. Adrenaline helped her keep up. If she’d thought leaving the school, and the mailbox, behind would ease her distress, she quickly learned otherwise. The sense of being watched progressed to one of being followed. Stalked, like prey. She held the umbrella like a weapon. Jeremy smiled at her and made pithy small talk, but Colleen didn’t miss how warily his eyes scanned the streets or how firmly he held on to Shayla.

  They’d gone barely a block and a half when a navy SUV abruptly swung up to the curb beside them. The window lowered. Colleen hefted the umbrella, tensed for scarlet eyes. Mental coercion or not, nobody was getting anywhere near Shayla without the fight of their lives.

  “Hey, good-looking,” a woman’s voice sa
id from within. “Want a lift?”

  Jeremy’s whole lanky body relaxed. “Hey, Annie,” he said, and Shayla squealed, “Hi, Mommy.”

  Colleen lowered the umbrella. Her past encounters with Dr. Annie Stanton had been brief but pleasant. The woman always left a friendly glow in her wake. She smiled at them now while she opened the passenger door. “Hop in, kiddos. That pot roast won’t stay warm forever.”

  “’Tatoes?” Shayla asked hopefully as Jeremy set her in the back seat. Colleen clambered into the front, beside Annie. With everyone safely strapped in, Annie peeled out and took off at a speed Colleen considered excessive. Was Dr. Stanton also scanning the street? Colleen decided she must be paranoid.

  The sense of being followed had trickled down to a whisper by the time Annie pulled into her driveway. Once inside their house, it shut off completely. Colleen blew out a sigh of relief and let the homey cheeriness of the house wash her clean of that awful, stifling anxiety. She touched her fingertips to her forehead. They came away dampened with sweat.

  Shayla tagged after Annie into the kitchen, but Jeremy stayed by her side. “Are you all right?”

  “I am now.” She smiled up into his eyes. She’d take their stormy darkness over red any day of the year. “I feel like I had a panic attack or something. Looks like it’s over. Is there some place I could freshen up?”

  “Of course. Dinner won’t be for at least ten minutes. There’s a bathroom up the hall there, to your right.”

  A brisk splash of cold water on her face, Colleen decided, would do her a world of good. So would a slug of whiskey, but that would have to wait. She scurried up the short hallway to the bathroom before post-panic shakes could hit. At the doorway, she glanced back. Jeremy had pulled out a cell phone and spoke into it in low tones that didn’t carry as far as her ears. He glanced up and caught her eyes on him. Colleen ducked into the bathroom.