"She was good."
Liam smiled. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me, Aidan."
"What am I supposed to feel, then?"
Liam leaned across the table and smiled patiently. "I just want you to think." He pulled money from his pocket, tossed it onto the table and said, "Think about what you've found. What you could have. And think hard before you let yourself lose it." Then he left.
And Aidan sat alone, not sure of anything anymore.
* * *
Eleven
« ^ »
"I can come home early."
"You don't have to do that," Terry said, clutching the phone receiver as she walked around the kitchen, pouring herself some iced tea. "Honestly, Donna, everything's fine."
"No damage to the store? The house?"
Terry sighed. She'd already reassured her friend a half dozen times over the last few days. But she supposed it wasn't easy to be thousands of miles away from home when disaster struck.
"There was a small leak in the bookstore," she told her again. "A tiny puddle in the back, by the kids' play area."
"Damn it. Should have had the roof fixed last year. I knew that and put it off anyway."
"It's a very tiny leak, Donna. Honestly. The store did not float away."
"Okay, okay, I know I'm being a little obsessive."
"Just a tad," Terry agreed, smiling as she closed the refrigerator door and picked up the glass of tea off the table. Taking a sip, she said, "Just enjoy the rest of your time with your folks."
"To tell you the truth, they're jumping up and down on my last nerve."
Terry laughed, pulled out a chair and sat down. God it felt good to think about something else besides her own situation. Her brain had been running in circles over Aidan Reilly for days—and she still had no idea how to handle what was getting to be a more and more complicated relationship.
Of course, to Aidan, it probably wasn't complicated at all, she thought wryly. It was her own fault she'd made the mistake of feeling more than she should have. Now she just had to figure out what to do about it.
"Don't get me wrong," Donna said, "my parents are great. But they spend all their time giving the kids chocolate, which hypes the little tormentors into outer space and then they drive me insane."
A sigh of regret whispered through Terry as she wondered what her life would be now, if Eric had only lived. He'd be twelve now. Almost a teenager. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that sweet baby face as it would be now, and couldn't quite pull it off.
She'd always wanted children. At one time, she'd assumed she'd have a houseful of them. Now, it looked as though those dreams had been buried with Eric. She was alone. And despite what she felt for Aidan, she was going to stay alone.
Shaking her head a little, she said, "Sounds like things're just the way they're supposed to be then."
"I guess. I'm just ready to be home."
"Yeah," Terry said softly. "So am I."
"Tired of small-town life?" Donna asked. "Ready to go back to Manhattan and start whipping those fund-raisers into shape again?"
Truthfully, Terry thought, but didn't say, no. She liked Baywater. She liked having neighbors, even though they were only on loan from Donna. She liked the small-town feel, the slower pace, the sense of community she'd experienced when the hurricane swept through.
And mostly, she liked Aidan.
Instantly that quick grin of his filled her mind. His dimple. The deep, stormy blue of his eyes. The gravelly voice in the middle of the night. The callused fingertips sliding over her skin. His laugh. His humor and strength.
She liked it all.
Oh dear God.
She'd really done it.
She'd fallen in love.
Sitting up straight in the ladder-back chair, she stared blankly at the wall opposite her. Why hadn't she noticed this when there was still time to prevent it?
But then, maybe she'd never had a chance against it. She'd felt something new, something incredibly strong and powerful from the first moment they'd met.
She'd known then that he was different. That he could be dangerous.
She just hadn't realized how dangerous.
"Hello? Earth to Terry, come in, Terry."
"Huh? Oh." Shaking her head, she grabbed up her tea, took a long drink and swallowed the icy liquid and felt the chill of it swamp her right down to the bone.
But it wasn't the tea giving her the shivers.
It was the knowledge that she'd given her heart to a man who wouldn't want it.
"Oh, no."
"What? What's wrong?" Donna demanded.
"Oh, I've made a big mistake."
"Sounds bad."
"Couldn't be worse."
"And is the name of this mistake Aidan?"
"How'd you guess?"
"Not really a big jump," Donna admitted, and she couldn't hide the delight in her voice.
"You don't have to sound so pleased about this," Terry muttered, grimacing at the phone she was clutching tightly enough to snap in two.
"Why wouldn't I be pleased? Two of my closest friends find true love and happiness? This is good news."
"Hah!" Terry leaned back in her chair. "As far as Aidan's concerned, we've found sweaty sex and completion."
"And you?"
She sighed. "Donna … I'm an idiot."
"No, you're not, sweetie," her friend crooned. "You fell in love. That makes you lucky."
"No. It just makes it harder to leave."
"You're not going to stay and see what happens?"
"Nope." Terry stood up, walked to the window and stared out at the sun splashed backyard. The sky was blue, white clouds drifted lazily across the sky and a puff of wind teased the brass chimes into a soft tune. It was as if the hurricane had never come.
And she knew, that once she was home, buried in work, in the familiar, this feeling for Aidan would go away, too, and it would be like these few weeks had never been.
If a part of her was saddened at the thought, it was just a small part. The hard reality was, she didn't want to love someone again. Didn't want to risk loss again.
After Eric's death, Terry had been lost. Devastated. She'd spiraled into an overwhelming need for risk. She'd put her life on the line time and again, chasing down thrills, adventure.
She hadn't really taken the time then to realize that she had been, in a way, chasing death. Her own life had felt inconsolably lonely. She'd missed her son desperately and hadn't reconciled with her family enough to find comfort there.
Instead she'd jumped into a whirlwind of activity that was dangerous enough that it kept her mind too busy to grieve. Her heart too full to break.
Until that one morning five years ago. Waking up in that hospital bed, she'd finally faced the sad truth. That she'd become as empty as her world had felt. That she'd chased danger so she wouldn't have to face life without her baby. And that was a slap in the face to the love she'd found with Eric.
Since that morning, she'd changed. Built a life that was based on giving. On helping. On reaching out a hand to those who felt as alone as she once had.
But if she were to chance loving Aidan, wouldn't she be going back into the danger zone? Wouldn't she be handing the universe another opportunity to kick her in the teeth?
"Terry?"
"Sorry," she murmured, still half lost in thought.
"You're really shook, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I am," she admitted, grateful at least to have this one old friend to talk to. To confess her fears and worries to.
"You know what? I'm coming home early."
"You don't have to do that," Terry said.
"I know. But I miss my own place anyway."
"Donna…"
"I'll be there tomorrow or the next day."
"Okay," she said, already planning her return to Manhattan. She wasn't running, she told herself firmly. She was retreating. Quickly. "And, Donna?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
* * *
Two hours later, Liam opened the door to the rectory himself.
The housekeeper was out doing the weekly grocery shopping and the monsignor was in the church hearing confessions. Which left Liam to wait for the roofer to arrive and give them an estimate.
But when he opened the door, he didn't find Mr. Angelini. Instead a tall, curvy blonde with summer-green eyes and a quiet smile greeted him. Instantly he knew who she must be.
"You're Terry Evans."
"Father Liam Reilly?" she asked with a smile. "Aidan didn't tell me his brother was psychic."
"Oh, I'm not," Liam said, opening the door wider and waving one hand in invitation. "But Aidan's described you too well to be mistaken on this."
She stepped into the foyer, her cream colored heels making quiet clicks on the gleaming wooden floor. Liam closed the door, then faced her, a beautiful woman in an expensive, beige suit and yellow silk blouse. She looked … uneasy and Liam's instincts took over.
"Can I get you something cold to drink? We have soda, which I would recommend over my housekeeper's hideous iced tea."
"No. Nothing, thanks," she said and walked with him into the living room off the hall.
"Please. Sit down."
She took a seat on the sofa and Liam perched on the coffee table in front of her. There was unhappiness in her eyes and a wistful quality about her that tugged on his heart. Now he understood why Aidan had fallen so fast and so hard. The wonder of it to him was that the man was still struggling so against it.
"What brings you here, Terry?"
She inhaled sharply and looked around the room before shifting her gaze back to his. "Direct. I like that."
He nodded, waiting.
"Aidan told me," she said, "that you were going to use the ten thousand dollars from the bet to replace the church's roof."
He smiled. "Did he?"
She opened her purse, dug inside for an envelope, then pulled it out and studied it. "I don't know if you know this already, but he had planned to give you the money anyway, even if he had won that stupid bet."
His eyebrows lifted. "No, I didn't know. But it sounds like something Aidan would do. He's a good man."
"Yes," she said, running her fingertips idly across the back of the envelope. "He is."
"And you love him."
Her gaze snapped up to his and Liam smiled. Even if he hadn't been expecting it, he would have spotted the sharp jolt of emotion in her eyes. And it made him glad for Aidan. It was high time his brother found something that meant as much to him as the Corps did.
"You sure you're not psychic?" she asked, giving him a wary smile.
"Oh, I'm sure. But if you don't mind my saying so, it's easy enough to read your eyes."
"Great. I'm an open book." Terry shrugged slightly. "I hope Aidan's not in a reading mood."
"You don't want him to know?"
"No," she said it softly, firmly. "Neither one of us was looking for this, Father—"
"Liam," he corrected.
"—Liam. What happened between us … well. It doesn't matter."
"You're a lot like him," Liam said.
She laughed shortly. "No reason to be insulting."
He grinned, liking this woman more and more and wanting to kick Aidan's ass for even taking the chance of losing her.
"Anyway," she said, "that's not why I'm here."
"Okay, then why?" he asked, bracing his forearms on his thighs and leaning in toward her.
"For this," she said and handed him the envelope.
Confused now, Liam opened it, looked inside and stared in stunned shock. Her personal check for twenty-five thousand dollars, made out to St. Sebastian's, was nestled inside.
Lifting his gaze to hers, he said, "Not that we don't appreciate the donation, we do. But that's a big check. Can I ask what motivated it?"
She snapped her small purse closed again and folded her hands on top of it. "Ten thousand wouldn't have been enough to get you a new roof, Liam."
"True, but that doesn't explain your generosity."
She inhaled sharply. "Let's just say that I've come to like Baywater." She jumped to her feet and walked briskly across the room to stare out the front windows at the trees that lined the driveway. "It's a nice place. Nice people. I'm going to miss it. And I wanted to help in some way, before I left town."
"You're leaving?"
She turned to look at him nodded, and looked down, but not before Liam saw the gleam of regret in her eyes.
"When?"
"A day or two."
"Does Aidan know?"
"No—and I'd like your promise that you won't tell him."
"Are you going to?"
"I don't know yet."
Sighing, Liam set the envelope down on the table beside him, walked toward her and took both of her hands in his. "Is there some way I can help you?"
She smiled briefly and shook her head. "No, but thanks for offering."
"Are you sure you want to leave?" Liam asked, wondering how in heaven two such stubborn souls had managed to find each other.
She drew away from him and shook her head. "I didn't say I want to leave. Just that I am."
He smiled sadly. "That makes no sense at all, you know."
A short, harsh laugh shot from her throat. "Maybe not. But it's something I have to do."
"Maybe you should tell Aidan how you feel."
Now she did laugh. "Oh, no." Shaking her head she said, "Even if I was willing to take a chance on love again—you know as well as I do that Aidan's not interested."
"He cares for you."
"Yes. I think he really does." She started past him, headed for the front door. "But it's not love, Father. He doesn't want that any more than I do."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Sure enough."
Liam followed her to the front door. She opened it before he could and then stepped out onto the small porch, shaded by a climbing wisteria vine.
"Thank you again," he said, "for your donation."
"You're welcome, Liam. It was nice meeting you," she said and took the two steps to the sidewalk, leading around to the parking lot behind the church.
"Terry?"
She stopped and looked back at him, bright green eyes shadowed with pain.
His jaw tightened and though his every instinct was to help, comfort, he held himself back—knowing somehow, that she wouldn't welcome it. "My brother's an idiot if he lets you get away."
She shook her head. "Sometimes, Father, getting away is kindest all around."
She left then and Liam stood in a splash of sunlight wondering how in the hell he could wake his brother up to reality before it was too late.
* * *
Twelve
« ^ »
Aidan smiled as he pulled into the driveway at Donna Fletcher's house. Dusk was just settling over Baywater and the sky was still streaked with dark reds and orange. A slight wind pushed at the trees and from down the street, came the shrieks of children playing. Next door, Mr. Franklin was mowing the lawn and the older man nodded and waved as Aidan stepped out of his car.
He grabbed the still hot pizza box from the passenger seat, then snatched up a bottle of merlot he'd brought to go with it. Grinning, he headed for the house.
He'd been thinking about this moment all day. Through the work, through the joking around with the other guys, in the back of his mind, Aidan had been planning a nice, quiet night, with Terry cuddled up close beside him.
Funny. A couple of weeks ago, he never would have imagined that a cozy night at home would sound so damn good. But then, a couple of weeks ago, he hadn't yet met Terry Evans.
And ever since he had, his world had taken a subtle shift.
He shook his head and sprinted the last few steps to the front porch. Didn't want to think about what he was feeling. Didn't want to examine anything too closely. Better to just shut up and enjoy it.
He used the bottom end of the wine bottle to tap
on the door and when it swung open, his smile dropped like a stone.
Terry stood there, wearing a pale beige suit and high heels. Her makeup was perfect, her hair styled and surprise flickered in her green eyes. "Aidan? You said you couldn't make it tonight."
Frowning, he said, "I got Monk to cover for me."
"Oh. Well."
His brain tried to work. He could almost hear the gears grinding slowly inside his head. She wasn't expecting him, but she was dressed to the teeth and ready for … what, exactly?
He glanced past her then and noticed the suitcases stacked in the foyer. Ice settled in the pit of his stomach as he lifted his gaze up to hers again. "Going somewhere?"
Clearly nervous, she licked her lips, pulled in a long breath and said, "Yes. Actually, when you knocked, I thought it was my cab."
"Your cab."
"To take me to the airport."
"You're leaving."
"Yes. I'm going home."
"Tonight."
"Yes."
The ice in his stomach melted with a sizzle under a sudden onslaught of fury. She was looking at him as if he were a stranger. She was leaving. And didn't look sorry about it.
"Without even telling me?" he asked. "Without saying a damn word?"
She blew out a breath that ruffled the wisp of bangs drifting across her forehead. "Aidan, don't make this harder than it has to be."
He laughed shortly, harshly and felt it scrape his throat. "Not really sure if I could do that."
He felt like an idiot. Standing there in jeans and a T-shirt, clutching a swiftly going cold pizza and a bottle of wine—while she stood there and told him she was leaving.
Shouldn't he have known this?
Shouldn't he have felt something? A warning of some kind?
"So what was the plan?" he snarled. "Were you going to call from the airport? Or just let me show up here to find you gone?"
She stiffened and her lips flattened into a grim line. "Donna will be here tomorrow. She could have—"
Another laugh, tighter, harsher than the first. "That's great. You were gonna let Donna tell me that you were too chicken to face me."
THE LAST REILLY STANDING Page 11
