by Dee Davis
“There you are. I was about to give up on you.”
Startled, he dropped the bag, irritation warring with anger. “Lacey, what the hell are you doing here? You scared the crap out of me.”
She lifted one delicate eyebrow. “Now, Jake, is that any way to treat your ex?”
He leaned over to get the bag, fiercely working to pull his emotions into control. “How the hell did you get in here?”
She held out a slender hand, a silver key dangling from one finger. “You never asked for it back.”
“And that gives you the right to invade my home?”
“Oh, give me a break. I’m hardly invading. I told you I was going to come by for the boxes.”
“You could have called first.”
She smiled up at him. “I tried. See, there’s the message.” She pointed at the blinking light on the answering machine. “I’ve just never been good at waiting.”
Despite his misgivings, he smiled. Lacey was definitely not known for her patience. “The boxes are in the guest bedroom.”
It was her turn to smile. “I know. The doorman’s just left with them.’’ She eyed the greasy bag with disdain. “I see you haven’t changed your eating habits.”
He sank into the chair. “I haven’t changed at all, Lacey.”
“Everybody changes, Jake. Sometimes it’s just hard to see the differences.” She frowned. “You look tired. I take it things aren’t going well with the senator’s daughter.”
He opened his mouth to deny it, then decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “It’s over.”
“Over as in permanently? Or over as in a brief hiatus.”
“Over over, okay?”
“Why don’t I believe you?” She leaned back on the sofa, her eyes narrowed in speculation.
“More important, why do you care?” He stood abruptly and walked over to the small alcove that served as the bar. “You still drink gin?”
Lacey nodded.
Jake poured a measure of tonic into her glass. “You haven’t told me how you knew about Riley.”
“I know you, Jake.” She reached up to take the glass from him. “And I talked to David.”
“Great, just what I need—a friend with a big mouth.”
“He cares about you. And believe it or not, so do I.”
“That would be why you slept with everyone in Atlanta but me.”
“Ancient history. Everyone makes mistakes. Even me.” She shrugged, the gesture making the ice in her glass tinkle musically.
He sighed and sat down again, sipping his beer. “I made mistakes too, Lacey.”
“Our relationship is in the past, Jake. It doesn’t have the power to hurt us anymore. What’s important is that we learn something from all of it.”
“And have you?” Jake watched her over the rim of his glass.
“I’d like to think so. I know that I hurt you. And I know I did it to try and get your attention. You keep yourself so segmented off, Jake. Sometimes I just wanted to know that you were in there.”
“Believe me, I was present.” Even as he said it, he realized that she was right. It was over between them, the hatred vanishing along with the love.
She smiled. “The point is, Jake, you can’t keep living like that. You have to open up to someone. Trust someone. I wasn’t the right one. But maybe Riley O’Brien is.”
“No.” His answer was sharp. A retort.
“I see.” Lacey took a long sip, her look knowing.
“You don’t see anything. Riley is from a different world, Lacey. She wants the same things in life that you do. Things I can’t possibly provide.”
She held up her hands. “You have no idea what I want from life, Jake. You never did. And I doubt you know what Riley wants either. If you’re running true to form, I’m guessing you’re thinking of disengaging. Running away at the first sign of trouble.”
“Maybe.” He tipped back his head, suddenly feeling tired. “But she was the one who walked away.”
“And that means you aren’t allowed to go after her?” Lacey leaned forward, her eyes soft with compassion. “Go after your dreams, Jake. Don’t let them slip through your fingers. We screwed up our relationship, but the fallout doesn’t have to ruin our lives. I’ve found Martin, and believe it or not, he makes me happy.” She set her drink on the table and stood to go. “All I want is for you to have the same thing.”
He couldn’t explain why, but he believed her. “Thank you, Lacey, but I don’t think my happiness is in the cards.”
“Sometimes, Jake, you have to fight for what you want.”
Jake sighed. “I’m not sure I know how.”
She shrugged, smiling as she opened the door. “You do it like everything else in life. One step at a time.”
He listened as the door closed, reaching for the bag of tacos, afraid to face the truth in what she said.
Dinner was going to be cold—again.
Chapter 22
SHE’D RUN AWAY from him. It was as simple as that. She’d let Amber Northcott’s death scare her. No, truth be told, she’d let it all scare her. The car bomb, the hit and run, Daniels, Michaels, Caroline—Jake. Okay, mainly she was afraid of Jake.
Afraid of her feelings for him. Afraid of his feelings for her. Not that he’d admitted them, but it was there. She could feel it when he looked at her. When he held her, touched her—yelled at her. Riley smiled, then frowned.
What did it matter what they felt? There was so much between them. Her father, the presidency, Jake’s job, everything. But maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe nothing mattered except the two of them. But then, life didn’t exist in a vacuum. She couldn’t just ride away into the sunset. There was always a morning after, and she couldn’t pretend hers didn’t exist. Could she?
God, it was all too much to think about. It made her head hurt.
Which, as excuses went, was rather pedestrian. Riley sighed, and wrapped her arms around herself, looking out at the moon. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe she was letting her father run her life. Maybe she had made his dreams her own. But then again, maybe there was nothing wrong with that.
She rubbed her temples, trying to sort through her tangled thoughts. She hated cowards, hated them with a passion. And she was hiding in her room, hoping against hope that somehow all her problems would just fix themselves. She’d lied to Jake. She’d lied to her father. And she’d lied to herself.
Jake was right. Life was messy. Especially hers.
She’d wanted a life of her own, and now it was right here, within her grasp, if only she had the courage to reach out and take it. But what would the cost be?
Her mother had deserted her father. And Caroline, through no fault of her own, had deserted him too. She knew she couldn’t leave him as well. Not after all they’d been through. Not with the presidency hanging in the balance.
And there could be no halfway. Her father would never forgive her defection. He’d made it more than clear how he felt about Jake Mahoney. And if that weren’t enough, Leon seemed to have developed an instant dislike for the man, and her father always listened to Leon. No, her father would never see Jake as anyone but the enemy.
It was between a rock and a hard place, if ever there was one. She loved her father, and she cared about Jake. Maybe even loved him. But like Maudeen said, sometimes loving wasn’t enough.
She laid a hand on the window glass, beseeching the moon. But there wasn’t an easy answer. Any way she looked at it, someone was going to be hurt. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall. Why did everything have to be so difficult?
She thought back to her last day with Caroline. They’d been reading fairy tales, discussing happily ever afters. Caroline had believed in them. Absolutely, irrevocably. Riley hadn’t been so sure. But she’d wanted to believe. Oh God, how she’d wanted to believe.
Then everything had crumbled to ashes, her sister dead—her family shattered. And Riley had given up on happily ever afters once and for all.
She
sighed, wishing that Caroline had lived, that life had been different for all of them. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. And perhaps there was a lesson to be learned in it all. Caroline’s secrets had gone with her to the grave. Whatever it was she longed for in life, she’d kept it from her family.
Truth was, if Caroline had been pregnant, and if she’d told their father about her baby—about her lover—he would never have accepted it. No one would have ever been good enough for Caroline. And by default, the same was now true for her.
Riley opened her eyes, the truth hitting her like a stone.
For years she’d battled against the memory of a perfect family struck by tragedy then frozen in time, she and her father forever grieving for what could have been. But it was nothing more than an illusion. There had been no perfect family. Her sister had had secrets. Her mother had been unstable. And her father had been too busy to see any of it.
Had Caroline lived, their world probably would have exploded anyway.
For twenty years, Riley had lived with the pain of her mother’s betrayal and her sister’s death. She’d spent her life working to make it up to her father. To help him see that he could go on without them. And now she realized that even if Caroline had lived, things would never have been the same.
The thought was liberating—and tragic.
She and her father had lived with a false memory all these years, believing Caroline was something she was not. It didn’t make her love her sister any less. In fact, in some ways it made her love her more. But it did make her realize how important it was to live for the now—to make the most of all that you have. Because, like Caroline, it could all be taken away in an instant.
Riley turned from the window, reaching for her jacket, facing the truth head-on. She loved Jake. And no matter how much she wanted to please her father, she couldn’t do that at the risk of her own happiness.
There were simply some things more important than a campaign.
He was behaving like a lovestruck adolescent. Or worse still, an insane one. He looked up at the dark windows of Rivercrest, trying to decide what it was he’d thought to accomplish in coming here. It wasn’t like he could walk up to the front door and ring the bell.
Even if the good senator didn’t toss him out on his keister just for being within a mile of his daughter, it was the middle of the night. Hell, there were probably Secret Service men watching him at this very moment. He tipped back his head, feeling like a colossal fool.
But he’d be damned if he’d let it end like this. Lacey was right. It was time he faced his fears. He loved Riley. And all the differences in the world wouldn’t change that. He owed it to himself to face her head-on. To tell her how he felt. They belonged together.
At least he hoped they did. And he wasn’t about to let her throw it all away in some stupid attempt to sacrifice her life for her father. If the man loved his daughter half as much as she claimed he did, he wouldn’t ask that of her.
Riley was afraid of fallout. She wanted life to be neat and orderly. But it wasn’t. Life was messy and complicated—and wonderful. And he wasn’t about to let her off the hook so easily. Any more than he was letting himself off. And nothing, not her father, not his own in-securities, was going to keep him from telling her so.
He stared at the house again, clutching his flashlight, plotting his strategy. He didn’t even know which room was hers. There must be fifty windows. Obviously, a little reconnoitering wouldn’t have hurt. So much for inspiration. He blew out a frustrated breath.
Moonlight dusted the lawn with a sprinkling of silver, giving the garden a magical feel. He walked toward the house, without a plan, knowing only that he had to see her. A figure emerged from the shadows, the pale light illuminating her.
Riley.
His heart leapt to his throat, his palms suddenly sweaty. He tried to think of all the things he wanted to say, but his mind had gone blank, registering only the moonlight, the magic, and the woman walking toward him.
She made her way slowly, looking behind her to make certain the house was still quiet. Part of her—the logical, rational side—was busy informing her that she was making a huge mistake, that she was letting her emotions get the better of her. And the other side—the free-spirited part of her—was applauding, egging her on.
She fought the urge to tell herself to shut up, and swallowed a laugh, wondering if perhaps she was going a little crazy.
Absolutely, the rational side hissed. So what’s wrong with crazy? the Gypsy side whispered. It was enough to drive a girl around the bend, or at least make her turn around and go back in the house.
“Riley?”
She jumped about ten feet, her two alter egos heading for the hills. And just as she was about to follow them, her beleaguered brain registered the sound of the voice. “Jake?”
He stepped from the shadows into the moonlight, sending her heart racing all over again, but this time it wasn’t from fear.
“What are you doing here?” Her whisper sounded sharp against the soft silence of the night. “You scared me half to death.”
His smile was hesitant, his eyes intense. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you wound up over here?”
He took a step toward her, so close now that his breath touched her face. “We left things unfinished between us.”
She nodded, her eyes meeting his, giving up all pretense. “I was actually on my way to see you.”
His eyes were dark against the night, but she could see the emotion reflected there. “I’m sorry, Riley. I said things I didn’t mean. I hurt you.”
She shook her head, reaching for him, needing to feel his heart against hers, wanting him inside her, part of her. “I’m sorry too. I was angry and frightened. Oh God, Jake, I was so afraid that it was too late, that—”
His lips found hers, cutting off the words with a crushing kiss, one that drew her in, captivating her with both its tenderness and its power.
There was a difference tonight. Maybe it was the moonlight, or maybe it was because she wanted him so much, but regardless, there was something more to their caresses, something beyond the physical. As if in joining tonight, they were connecting themselves in some deeper, more spiritual way.
The thought should have scared her, made her run for cover, but instead it only made her want him more. This was where she belonged. It was almost as if she’d spent her whole life waiting for this moment—this man.
She broke away, grabbing his hand. “Not here. Someone might see us.” Tugging impatiently, she led him toward the shelter of the trees. He followed her wordlessly, his trust in her humbling.
She led them through the trees, impatiently pushing the undergrowth aside, the beam of his flashlight cutting a path, until finally they came to a small clearing. Glass glittered in the wash of white moonlight, making the gazebo seem untouched by time. It was only on closer inspection that damage became apparent.
The gazebo’s door hung drunkenly from rusty, broken hinges, rotten boards jutting at odd angles from the frame. Part of the roof appeared to be missing, and vines crawled up the smooth expanse of windowed walls, tangling together to create swaying topiaries of gigantic proportion.
“This was Caroline’s retreat.” She whispered the words, worried she might break the spell, wondering if the place might indeed be enchanted. “I haven’t been here since she died. But I don’t think she’d mind us being here.”
Together they walked through the gaping doorway, moonlight fracturing through the windows to throw a kaleidoscope of light on the floor, its soft light forgiving. Stars twinkled through two skylights, one of them, long devoid of glass, open to the night.
A cool breeze gently fanned the dry leaves on the floor, adding an undernote to the nearby sound of creek water tumbling over a fall of rocks. Bookcases lined the back wall, shelves in tumbled disarray. A ragged velvet chaise stood in a corner, next to an open book which rested on a table. It was almost as if Caroline had only left for the night.
Jake reached out to touch her, one finger tracing the line of her lips. The simple gesture was more sensual than a thousand kisses. She covered his hand with hers, kissing first his palm and then each of his fingers, her eyes never leaving his.
Then, with a slow smile, she pulled off her jacket, throwing it on the chaise behind them. Moving to a rhythm only she could hear, she began unfastening each button on her dress, watching the blue of his eyes darken with need. Wanting her. Only her.
Cool air kissed her breasts, her nipples hardening with excitement as she pushed aside the cool silk, allowing it to billow to the floor. Accompanied by the wind and the soft fall of water, she slid satin panties to the floor, stepping free, ready, her body a silent solicitation.
With a groan, he accepted the invitation, closing the distance between them, his hands running along the line of her shoulders, down the curve of her back, to settle on her bottom, pulling her close, groin-to-groin, his mouth hungrily taking possession of hers.
She opened to his kiss, welcoming him inside her, knowing that tonight there could be no barriers between them. Not in this place. She worked the buttons of his shirt free, relishing the feel of his skin, hot against hers. There was an urgency now, the need for more, always more. She moaned, pressing closer, feeling his hardness through the rough fabric of his jeans.
As if sensing her need, he thrust his tongue deeper, his hands finding her breasts, his thumbs rasping across her nipples, sending shards of sensation spiraling through her, the pleasure so potent it was almost painful.
Jake felt his desire rising to a fever pitch, and the touch of her skin against his only heightened his need. He bent his head, taking her nipple in his mouth, circling, sucking, until it was taut and hard. She pressed against him, urging him to take more, and he sucked harder, faster, satisfied when he heard her moan, the sound coming from deep in her throat.
