I parked at the curb next to where she stood. In her hands, she carried two tall coffees and an over-stuffed shopping bag. I jumped out of my car, afraid she was about to spill coffee everywhere.
“I got you one,” she offered, trying to hand me a coffee.
I didn't take it. “That was nice of you, but I don't drink coffee and you can't bring yours in my car. I don't like food or drinks inside Baby—it makes me nervous. Can you please drink it or throw it away before we go?”
“Really? You named your car Baby?”
“Yes.”
She stared at me for a moment. Then she turned and headed toward the nearest trashcan, tossing both coffees. Awkward as ever, we both climbed into my car and started for home.
“How was the drive?” she asked, taking me completely by surprise since usually Clara just ignored me.
“Fine. How was the flight?”
“Kind of awful. I feel nauseated and loopy.”
“Are you going to get sick? Should I pull over?”
“Nope, I'm peaches. Totally peaches.”
She just used my freaking word. I bit my tongue—hard—and refocused on driving. I didn't even know how to respond to that. Why were we even talking at all? Then Clara laughed, which surprised me so much that I jumped a little in my seat.
“I'm just screwing with you. I didn't sleep much last night. Only maybe an hour. Then I accidentally fell asleep for twenty minutes on the plane. Don't you hate that feeling? I tried to stay awake because I knew it would be torture to fall asleep for such a short amount of time and then have to wake up all over again. Anyway...so, yeah. That's why I feel weird. I'm exhausted, not hungover. And I'm dreading Dad's inevitable ass-reaming. I can just picture him now. Sitting on the couch, biting his fingernails, waiting for me to the walk through that door so he can tell me all the ways I screwed up this weekend. Classic Dad. And—”
“What happened yesterday with you and Leo?” I interrupted. I couldn't listen to her ramble another minute and the question just sorted of jumped out of my mouth. “You seemed upset when you called.”
“Don't you and Leo tell each other everything? I’m surprised you even need to ask.”
“We do, but I want to hear your side of the story. We're sisters. We should be able to talk about stuff like this. Is that so unreasonable?”
I glanced over at Clara and she met my eyes with an easy stare. “Leo spent the night with me,” she said casually. “Is that what you're asking about?”
“What?” I gasped. She should have slapped me—it would have hurt less. “First Andrew...and now Leo? If you're trying to seek some kind of crazy revenge on me by getting to the guys in my life, then...you win! Okay? YOU WIN!”
She huffed. “Maybe Andrew deserves the broken heart I tried to give him for cheating on you. And maybe Leo deserves the same for being such an asshole to me his whole life, but—”
“Andrew never cheated while we were together!” I yelled. What a cold, heartless b—
“And my farts smell like Fruit Loops. I'm sorry I have to be the one to break this to you, but Andrew is a pig. A cheating, lying pig. You're lucky he's out of your life. And he kisses like a Doberman. Gross.”
I missed my exit. I'd been so stupefied that I missed my exit. I was now headed down Highway 81 in the wrong direction. “How do you know this? Did you sleep with Andrew too?”
She made a gagging noise. “Ew, no. Leah told me. She's been screwing him on and off for over a year and suspects there have been others. I'm sorry. In my weird way, I was trying to protect you and get even with him. My plan backfired in my face and I'm sorry for that too.”
I didn't respond. I clenched my jaw and sped for the next exit.
“And you didn’t let me finish…I would never do that to Leo. I like Leo. Like really like him. And when I said Leo spent the night, I didn't mean I screwed him. Damn, do you think so little of me? I'm a virgin, Maggie.”
My breath came out in short, sharp gasps. I couldn't focus on Clara or her claim of virginity. All I could think of was Leah and Andrew together...for over a year! “How...what...” My throat went hoarse. “Why would Leah tell you this?”
“For some strange reason, she tells me everything. I think it's because I'm the only girl who's halfway nice to her. Whatever. That doesn't matter. I thought if I dated him and broke his heart, I could give him a taste of his own medicine. I also thought if he dated me—and you saw us together—you'd be too repulsed to ever go back to him. I only wanted to hurt Andrew, never you. Leo got in the way of that plan. I can't date Andrew while I have all these feelings for Leo going on inside me. I'm so sorry. Really, I am.”
I didn't know who or what to believe. All I could focus on was the pain in my heart. Clara didn't say another word for the rest of the drive home. She just sat beside me, alternating between staring out her window and staring at me. After the longest two hours of my life, we finally pulled into the driveway.
“Thanks for telling me,” I whispered. “Someone should have sooner, but thanks.”
She got out of the car and went inside, and I did the only thing I knew to do—I called Leo. He picked up after the first ring.
“Hey, Mags. You won't believe who—”
“Did you know about Andrew?” I blurted out, cutting him off. “Did you know about him cheating on me?”
“What?” he asked, sounding genuinely shocked. “Cheating when?”
Of course Leo didn't know. I shouldn't have second-guessed his loyalty. I waited for the tears to come but they never did. My tears ducts must have been broken because I felt so incredibly miserable yet I couldn't cry. “I don't know. Something like the entire last year we were together.”
“I'm at my house. Come over. Now, Mags.”
“Okay. I'll be right there.” I dropped the phone onto my lap, restarted my car, and raced the short distance over to Leo's mansion. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I only knew I needed to be with the one person in the world who could ground me and make me feel safe.
Leo stood and waited for me at the bottom of his front porch steps. My foot slammed on the brake when I saw him. He was dressed in golf clothes—a white polo shirt and khaki shorts, his standard for summertime. I’d always known he was attractive. Always. With jet-black hair, his intense eyes, and those rare but insanely beautiful smiles of his, I don’t know why those things never really registered in my mind before this weekend. Was it really love I felt for him or was it...Robby? Oh no, not good. I'd been so focused on Leo that I hadn't noticed the person standing beside him.
I got out of my car tentatively, my insides like Silly Putty. Why on earth was Robby here? Leo moved without hesitation across the pavement and caught me in a giant hug. His arms engulfed my shoulders and he squeezed me hard. As he held me, I glanced across the driveway to Robby. His hands were in his pockets and he kicked at nothing on the ground, but he gave me a small smile when he noticed me watching him.
“I didn't know about Andrew,” Leo whispered into my shoulder. “I'm so sorry. Who told you this?”
“Clara,” I whispered back. I felt Leo tense, but surely he must have already come to that conclusion. He usually thought two steps ahead of the rest of the world and had a special way of figuring out things that other people missed.
“Why would Clara date Andrew if she knew that?” he growled, sounding hurt and angry all at once. He pulled out of our embrace and immediately started pacing beside me in the driveway. “Fuck this. Fuck me. I still can't make sense of her and Andrew together.” He ran his hands through his thick hair, making it stand on end. “One moment it feels like she’s all in with me and then the next, everything comes back to fucking Andrew.”
This was it. This was my golden opportunity to throw Clara under the bus. But I couldn't watch Leo in so much agony—not when I knew the truth that could instantly take away that suffering. “Clara hates Andrew, just like you thought. She thinks he's a lying pig who kisses like a Dachshund. Or was it a Doberman? She also sai
d something about wanting to protect me while giving Andrew a taste of his own medicine, but she couldn't date him while she had feelings for you. She wasn't mean to me today. She may have told me a bunch of stuff I didn't want to hear, but overall she was a lot nicer than she's been in years. I'm pretty sure you have everything to do with that. So stop pacing like a trapped animal—it’s making me dizzy. And don't pull at your hair like that or you’re going to go prematurely bald.”
Leo stopped moving and let his hands fall to his sides. He let out a giant breath and then started moving up the steps to his house.
“Where are you going?”
“The library. I was working on a project before Dan here interrupted me. So get rid of loverboy and then come find me,” Leo said before disappearing inside his house.
My eyes fell on Robby. We stared at each other in silence for a moment or two before he spoke first, “That was the most selfless thing I've ever seen anyone do. I'm in awe of you, Maggie. Complete awe.”
That was my undoing. For some strange reason, the tears that wouldn't come minutes ago decided to make an appearance. And they weren't the cute 'single-tear-glistening-down-your-cheek' type. No. They were the 'horrible-uncontrollable-I-hope-snot-isn’t-coming-out-of-my-nose' type. Robby had me in his arms in an instant. I bawled and blubbered into his shirt while he held me, never asking me to explain where all my tears were coming from. He just held me. When I finally calmed down, he used his thumbs to brush away at my tear-stained cheeks. I dared a peek up at him and suddenly I was fifteen all over again—lost in his touch and kindness and the depth of his eyes.
Crap.
Maybe I loved Leo. Maybe I didn't. But I knew one thing for sure—I still had it bad for Robby. “You should go now,” I told him. “Everything is so confusing right now and I just need you to go.”
He nodded. “I'm only a phone call away if you need me.”
I nodded back and he left me, walking across Leo's long driveway in the direction of his truck...his truck that I had once again failed to notice sitting nearby. Darn it—if that thing were a snake, it would have bit me. I didn't watch him leave, but instead raced up Leo's steps and into his giant home.
His library was gorgeous and sophisticated, much like every other room in Leo's house. Walls of hundreds and hundreds of books stretched to the ceiling. Heavy curtains blocked out all daylight and the only source of light came from a few 1970's-style lamps with glass shades. Leo stood in the back corner with a book in his hand. He flipped open the front cover briefly before dropping it into a large pile of books at his feet. I cleared my throat to get his attention and he looked up at me.
“I'm okay,” I told him before he could ask. “I don't want to talk about it. And no, I don't want you to break Robby's jaw or any other part of his body for me. I can handle him myself, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And same goes for Andrew.”
He frowned. “I can't make any promises with Andrew. He's at the top of my shit-list and not just because of you. Anyway, want to go watch some old 80's movies, eat ice cream, and pretend our problems don't exist?”
“Yes.” That sounded perfect on multiple levels. I tried not focus on my complicated feelings as I followed Leo out of the library and toward his movie room. I wanted a piece of sanity and a moment to breathe. Being with Leo, doing our normal routine, provided that for me.
CHAPTER 16
CLARA
“Dad,” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Dad, where are you? I guess you're not home. I guess that means I'm not in trouble. I guess you don't care that I called out of work, skipped town, and have pastel-colored hair.”
Sweet—Dad wasn't home. This was a very good sign. And then I saw the note. On the counter, in his handwriting, sat the promise of my inevitable 'ass-reaming.’
Clara,
We're having a family dinner tonight. Six sharp. Also, I scheduled you to work today at 11:00. Check in with Mary Ann at the Pro Shop. You'll be giving golf lessons. Dress appropriately please and don't make a scene with Mary Ann.
Love,
Your (very angry but trying to keep his cool) Dad
Golf lessons? Seriously? He must be angry because he knew how I despised golf—or at least I'd led everyone to believe that I despised golf. I glanced at the clock on the stove. 10:55. Well, shit. I guess I was going to be late then.
I showered, braided my wet hair, brushed my teeth, and skipping my makeup, I threw on some yoga pants and a neon yellow tank top, rather than preppy, boring golf clothes. Then I headed for the garage in search of my old golf clubs and a pair of golf shoes. I found everything I needed and started the mile-and-a-half trek toward the Pro Shop.
Mary Ann—the manager of the shop—already had a stick up her butt when I let myself into her back office. “You're an hour late,” she barked at me from her spot behind her desk. “I have half a mind to call up your Daddy and tell him. You're lucky your first appointment called and canceled or I would.”
I bit my tongue and kept my mouth closed—for once.
She huffed and pointed at a clipboard with a sign-up sheet on her desk. “I guess it's nice of you to offer free lessons. Quite a few people signed up.”
A brief glance at the list and I found that my day had been divided out into hour-long time slots. And not just today, but for the next two weeks! So this was my punishment…forced to teach others golf—for free, apparently—when, for all the world knew, I hated golf.
“Sinclair Longerburger is your next appointment. Be nice to him.” Mary Ann snatched up the clipboard before I could study it too closely and then swiveled around in her chair, effectively dismissing me. For the love of Pete! What had I ever done to her? She'd never been the kindest to me, but this was way worse than usual.
I didn't argue. Instead, I left her office and went searching for Old Man Sinclair. Fortunately, I happened to like the kooky old man who loved golf more than anything. He was Leah Longerburger's grandfather and had been a member here for many years. Most importantly, he wasn't an asshole like most of the other club members.
I found him outside massaging his knee, his wispy white hair standing on end. “Hello, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Oh my, pumpkin pie, your hair is purple.”
I laughed. “It is.”
“It's very pretty.”
That was the exact reaction I would have expected from him. “Thanks. Is there anything in particular you'd like to work on today? Your short game?” I knew he had vision problems and shot pretty blindly for the hole. It's a wonder he still played such a good game.
“Honey, I'm turning eighty-three this weekend and I'm only getting worse and worse at this game. Lessons won't do me much good, but what I'd really like is some company. Would you mind putting up with an old man?”
“I would be more than happy to do that.”
Playing with Sinclair was pretty wonderful. He was easygoing and constantly made me laugh. Typically, I played alone. Every other Sunday during the school year, I drove an hour away—so I wouldn't risking the possibility of running into Maggie—and I'd play alone at a podunk backwoods golf course in the middle of nowhere. I went to all that trouble because I didn't want the world to know I still loved golf. But Sinclair noticed immediately that I was still in practice.
“You're making me look bad, sweetie,” he said as I sunk my second birdie in a row. “But I'm glad you're finally back to playing. I hope I can watch you on TV someday like I always watch your Daddy.”
See, now that was why I didn't let people know I still played. “I'm not back, Mr. Sinclair. I'm just having fun with you today.”
He winked at me. “I understand, sugar. Anyway, our hour is up so we should head back. I think Mrs. Ritter signed up that rascal son of hers for a lesson after mine.”
For the rest of the day, none of my other appointments were as fun as my first, but my day wasn't as miserable as I might have anticipated. Actually, people were surprisingly nice. They took me seriously, soaking up ever
y moment of my lessons as if Reed Ryder himself were their instructor. I even began to not dread the fact that I would have to do it all over again every day for the next two weeks. Still, when I walked into my house at six o’clock later that day, I was utterly exhausted, slightly sunburned, and thoroughly famished since I’d skipped breakfast and lunch.
“Hey guys, I'm home.”
No answer. I walked into the kitchen and dumped my purse onto the counter. I looked out the sliding glass doors and noticed Dad hovering over the grill, while Maggie set the patio table for dinner out on the back deck.
Out of nowhere, two strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled my body against a very solid chest. I knew instantly that those were Leo's arms around me. His smell and his touch were becoming too familiar not to know. When did he get back to Blue Creek? It didn't really matter. I was just happy he was here. I leaned back, snuggling to get closer to him. Obviously not caring that I was sweaty from head to toe, he planted a trail of kisses along my shoulder and across my neck. I couldn't help it when a little moan escaped my lips.
“Hi, killer. You're like fucking nirvana for sore eyes.” His hands slipped up and down my waist. “I didn't know I could miss you so much after only a few hours, and I love that I can touch you like this.” His touch grew bolder and he moved his hands over my chest, gently squeezing and caressing above my shirt. “Tell me I'm a pervert and I have to stop. Tell me and I will.”
I didn't want him to stop—his touch was doing all kinds of funny things to me. I pressed into him more and felt the substantial hardness of his erection against my ass, letting me know just how happy he was to see me again. “Hmm,” I murmured, my voice throaty.
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