by Jeannie Moon
Leah knew how it felt to be used, and she didn’t want it to happen to anyone she loved.
God, she hated being this way. Hated wondering about every new person in her life. It was isolating. Lonely. Which was why she enjoyed her growing friendship with Tris. He didn’t need anything from her.
“There she is!” Her sister, Amy, spotted her coming toward the table, and all eyes were on her.
Amy had been the only one who hadn’t taken her to task over the mess she’d caused between Nate and Jenna last July, probably because Amy didn’t like Jenna’s marriage to Nate any more than Leah did. But she hadn’t blasted her disapproval all over the Hamptons. That was Amy—discreet to a fault. She was the only one who knew why Leah had turned into herself, why she’d gotten so hard and cold.
“Finally rolled out of bed, did you?” her father teased. He was a big man, and as he rose from his seat to greet her, his size was more apparent, towering over the people nearby. When he wrapped her in his arms, she felt the same warmth and safety she had when she was a little girl. Then, there was nothing her Da couldn’t fix.
Leah wished that was still true.
“You’re late,” he said, drawing attention to the obvious. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I just overslept, and the traffic out of the city was horrible. I should have taken the train like I did yesterday.”
Leah made her way around the table, saying hello to Sally, her sister, and cautiously greeting her brother and his wife. Things still weren’t right between them, although she was trying. Last, she leaned over and kissed her mother.
“You could have stayed at the house last night,” Mom whispered. “Unless, of course, you got a better offer.”
Gobsmacked wasn’t a word Leah used often, but the words that just came out of her mother’s mouth did just that. Unable to respond, Leah locked eyes with her mother, and in the crystal-blue depths, she could see her mother already knew the answer. How did she do that? Was there some psychic tie between women and their children—their daughters specifically?
“I probably should have. Remind me next time, okay?”
It was the best nonanswer she could give. Yet her mother still grinned knowingly. But there was no way. None. Jesus. She did not need this.
The only seat left was one between her mother, at the end of the table, and Nate. At least her mother would talk to her. Since the blowup over the summer, Nate, whom she’d always been close to, had barely spoken to her. Not that she didn’t deserve it. She did. She deserved every bit of the cold shoulder he dished out. But this was hurting both of them, it was hurting the whole family, and she didn’t want it to go on any longer.
Nate nodded a greeting and passed her a plate of sticky breakfast buns. She could smell the cinnamon and sugar in the glaze.
“So,” he said with a wink, “did you have a better offer?”
Her brother and his wife had seen her leaving with Tristan. And unlike the others who just saw their casual exit, Jenna and Nate saw Tris pulling Leah to his car.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Leah shrugged. Taking a bite of the sticky bun, she chewed happily, unable to answer.
Her brother’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Fine. If you want to play it that way, go ahead. I will find out.”
She swallowed before engaging. Nate had barely spoken to her in four months, and now he was going to be the protective big brother?
“Find out what?” Did he not understand he was playing with a trained litigator? “Look, you obviously think you know something, so I wish you’d just come right out and ask me what it is you want to know.”
The look on his face was priceless. There was no way he would ever ask her about something so personal, especially in front of their parents. The man was a rank amateur, and she’d called his bluff. It was a good thing he was getting out of Reliance before the company went public. When that happened, shit was gonna get real, and Nate just wasn’t the guy to deal with it. He was the perfect person to take over the family’s horse farm, but he wasn’t a suit.
“Well, missy. I’m glad you made it in one piece.” Sally was technically their housekeeper, but she was more like a member of the family. “So did the Brit just drop you home then? No hanky-panky?”
She shouldn’t have come. She should have feigned sick and avoided the nightmare. “I’m not talking about this.” Another bite of the sticky bun.
“You said to ask straight out, so I’m askin’.” Sally would not be deterred.
Not knowing how to answer, she picked up her menu. “So have we ordered yet? What looks good?”
She knew the family was curious. Hell, she was almost thirty-one and not married—they were more than curious. It wasn’t that they didn’t respect her independence. That was one of the things her parents always said they most admired about her. Leah could take care of herself. Which was one of the reasons she hadn’t told them the truth about what had happened at her old job. They’d be disappointed. They’d question her judgment. It would change how they saw her—they might not respect her—and she couldn’t handle that. It had been three years since she’d left the nightmare behind, but she still felt the burn, the worry, that her family would be disappointed.
“So, everyone, we have an announcement to make.” Jenna’s voice cut through the chatter, silencing the entire table, and all heads turned toward her and Nate. “We found out the sex of the baby!”
Nate leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath. “I thought we weren’t going to tell them.”
“Oh,” Jenna said, glancing at Leah, and winking so quickly no one else noticed. “We’ll keep it to ourselves, but I want them to know! I couldn’t help it. I’m so happy.”
“I don’t understand.” Mom was annoyed, and she rarely got annoyed. “You announced it, but you’re not going to tell us?”
“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.” Jenna smiled her million-watt smile, and Leah felt a sudden affection for her sister-in-law, who had graciously diverted her family’s attention away from Leah’s sex life.
“That’s just mean,” Sally sniffed. “What’s to be served by such a secret?”
“I don’t know.” Jenna shrugged. Smiled. “We could make it a game. I’ll give hints along the way.”
“Och. That is mean,” her father grumbled. “You shoulda just kept it to yourself, lass. Sally’s right about that.”
“They’re never going to leave us alone,” Nate said quietly, leaning in so no one else could hear but Jenna . . . and Leah. “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s the excitement. Don’t be mad.” The sweetness in Jenna’s voice almost gave Leah a cavity.
But she had to give credit where credit was due; the woman had her brother wrapped around her little finger.
“I guess, but . . .”
A kiss. Jenna dropped a kiss on Nate’s knuckles and he was putty in her hands. Wow.
The waitress came and took their orders and sufficiently defused the situation. Leah would be eternally grateful to Jenna. It appeared that while her brother may still be treating Leah like the Wicked Witch, his wife wasn’t so inclined.
It made her feel bad. Over the past few months, she’d seen pregnant Jenna at her worst and at her best. Cranky, sick, and overtired, or shining like a new penny, it didn’t matter. Her brother was positively smitten, and Jenna obviously loved him. Leah’s nasty words at the barbecue in July were the cause of a lot of trouble, and she’d never felt so guilty. Especially now that Jenna had run interference. “I’m going to go on the deck and breathe in some salt air. It’s cool, but it’s a gorgeous day.”
“I could use some air, too.” Without a second to say anything, Jenna was at her side and nudging her toward the large glass doors that led to the expansive deck.
There were a few intrepid souls who were braving the cooler temperatures and enjoying br
eakfast outdoors, but what always captured Leah’s attention was the deep-blue water of Huntington Harbor. The breeze stirred ripples across the surface, and sailors were taking advantage of the perfect conditions to enjoy their boats before the winter settled over them.
“It really is pretty.” Jenna leaned on the deck rail and stared at the boats bobbing in the distance and the houses on the opposite shore.
“The beach is my favorite place to decompress,” Leah added. “I don’t get to go enough now that I’m in the city.”
“I think I spent half my life at Jones Beach,” Jenna added about the famous state park that claimed a good portion of Long Island’s south shore. “It wasn’t summer unless we were freezing in the ocean.”
“I’d go there with friends sometimes, but we spent a lot of summers on Fire Island, or in the Hamptons.”
“Nate told me. That must have been nice.”
Leah nodded, remembering the summers with her siblings, before their older brother died. But Leah pulled herself from the past and back to the present. “Thank you for saving me with the family. You didn’t have to throw yourself under the bus like that.”
“I know. I wanted to help you out. You don’t need all those prying questions about Tristan.”
“No, I don’t.”
Easing closer, Jenna grinned. “And there was no way you could honestly answer without sending your parents and Sally under the table, could you?”
“Are you fishing for information?” Leah had to admit, Jenna was smooth.
“No, pssht. No.” Jenna shook her head and looked away.
“No? Okay. Good.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake! Of course I’m fishing. Well? Was it hot? I know you went home with him, Leah.”
“Why should I tell you? You’re going to tell Nate!”
“Tell Nate what?” Now her sister Amy had joined them. “That you slept with Tristan?”
“Why does everyone assume that? I haven’t said anything. I mean we are friends, but . . .”
“But nothing,” Amy said. “You aren’t stupid, Leah, and not taking that man to bed would be very stupid. I’m not saying you should marry him, but doing him is definitely worth your time.”
“Especially considering the way he was looking at you,” Jenna added. “Hot.”
There was no getting around it anymore. They both had her dead to rights, and if her sister and her sister-in-law knew what was going on, Leah would, at least, have people to talk to about it. Tris was already messing with her head in a big way. Amy and Jenna could keep her securely on the friends-with-bennies path because she couldn’t let herself get attached to him, no matter how tempted she was to do so.
With a flash, a memory from the previous night blew through her mind. A memory so hot, Leah ached for him from the inside out.
Closing her eyes she saw him, felt him, and at the same time denied anything was going on. “You two are speculating.”
Amy grinned and looked out at the water before poking Leah in the ribs and locking eyes with her. “I guess we are, but you’re evading, counselor, and the evidence is stacked up against you. How do you plead?”
Leah gave up.
“Guilty.”
Chapter Three
Breaking up a Tuesday by blowing your entire calorie quota on the best tiramisu in the city was a good day, indeed. Doing it with your sister was even better. Even if she did constantly give you a hard time. Leah and Amy made a point of having lunch together at least once a week. They met between their offices at a pretty restaurant in Little Italy where they ate like teenage boys and talked nonstop. Even though they spoke on the phone every day, the two never ran out of things to say, and frankly, the women were so entwined in each other’s lives, Leah wouldn’t know what to do without her sister. Through every problem, every crisis, Amy had been Leah’s advisor and confidant. The two were Irish twins, born ten months apart, and complete opposites.
Amy was tall, slender, and blond like their mother. A refined package with emerald-green eyes and creamy, fair skin, she was an architect specializing in the restoration of historic buildings and she was currently working on bringing a large brownstone in Williamsburg back to its former elegance. Amy was sweet, and levelheaded on the surface. Underneath the polished exterior she had a take-no-prisoners attitude that Leah had always envied. An excellent judge of character, she inherently knew what to say to put people at ease—she was subtle, refined, and for the life of her, Leah couldn’t figure out why Tristan was with her when her sister was available.
Next to Amy, Leah felt a bit like the ugly duckling. She knew, even today when they were at lunch, that the waiter would fawn all over her beautiful sister. And while Leah would be treated politely, she was just another guest at the table. Amy was a goddess, perfect and lovely. Leah, on the other hand, was a leprechaun, with a riot of freckles across her nose and a hot temper.
The temper was her curse. Passionate and impatient, Leah didn’t have a natural ability with people like the rest of her family. She said things without thought. Amy was constantly coaching her, trying to help her finesse her reactions rather than being quite so direct. It was her flaw, and the thing that got her in so much trouble. When everything went south at her job three years earlier, the only person who knew the whole story was Amy. Now, the thing with Tris . . . or the non-thing with Tris, was driving her nuts, so she was hoping Amy could help her make sense of it. If she couldn’t, her sister would, at the very least, tease her mercilessly and beg for details. If nothing else, that would be a distraction.
Tristan confused her. He made her feel, he made her want, and she hadn’t reacted that way in a very long time. Over the past several years, Leah had built a pretty solid wall between herself and the outside world. She didn’t let anyone in; she just kept her eye on her objective, and plowed forward. Then a tall, velvet-eyed Brit walked into her view, and she was done for.
She didn’t expect it, didn’t plan for it, and she certainly didn’t realize she’d be so damned transparent.
Amy swept into the restaurant, dropped her briefcase on the chair with a thud, and threw her leather jacket on top of it. “Since when does it take an hour to get to Little Italy from Brooklyn? When? I could have walked here faster.”
“You’ll have to redesign the train line,” Leah responded.
“Pssht.” Amy poured a glass of red wine from the bottle on the table. “A civil engineer has to design it. I’ll turn the stations into pieces of art, though.”
Her sister leaned in and gave her a big hug. “Okay, first things first. What’s going on with the hot English guy who has you all aflutter?”
“I don’t think I’m aflutter, as you say.” Leah had practically tied the white cloth napkin into a knot. “He wants to keep things casual, you know, which is fine. I don’t have time for a relationship, but . . .”
Amy jumped all over her. “But you really like him, you want a relationship, and you’re afraid you’ll be hurt. Does that sum it up?”
Once again, Amy nailed it. “Yes, pretty much. But, look, we have a nice thing going as friends and he’s going to be part of Reliance. That’s a complication neither of us needs. It was fun and a great way to blow off some steam, but it was a onetime thing. It’s not happening again,” she said, taking a sip of her water. “Besides, I’m not his type.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Are we still going to do this?” Amy swore so seldom, it made Leah realize how pathetic she sounded. “You are so damn gorgeous, Leah. Why don’t you see it?”
“Thank you, but not compared to you.”
“Oh, please.” Her sister reached for the bread. It was warm and fragrant, and Leah hadn’t touched it, because even a bite would mean her clothes wouldn’t fit right. It was bad enough she was going to have pasta today. “I’m just your average run-of-the-mill blonde. You? You’re unique. You draw attention. Your eyes alone are en
ough to own a man.”
“I don’t see it. But going past my looks, why would he want to? I’m not that nice.” She used to be. She wasn’t anymore.
“Just a little self-control issue. Maybe he likes difficult women?”
“Well, I am that.”
“Look, you’re nice to people who deserve it. Like Tristan. Now tell me about him. He’s so damn hot. He looks like a pirate off the cover of a romance novel.”
“He makes love like a romance hero. That’s for sure.”
Amy slapped both her hands flat on the table. “Okay. Now you have to spill. What got you into his bed? You’re extremely picky, he must have really wowed you.”
It had been something so simple, really. She’d found Tristan attractive from the get-go, but Leah was admittedly gun-shy—overly cautious. Then they’d gotten to know each other a little and he didn’t judge her. He didn’t expect her to be deferential and sweet. There were so many things she liked about him, but only one thing got her into his bed last weekend.
“He touched me.”
Amy froze, the glass of wine touching her lips. “Excuse me?”
“He touched me, Amy. We were at that dinner party the other night and he reached out and stroked my cheek with his thumb. I don’t know . . . he said something about my freckles.” She smiled at the memory. “But when he touched me, and looked in my eyes, that was it.”
The contact drove home how wickedly appealing he was; every fiber of her being responded to him, and it scared her to death. “He touched me and he owned me. I guess I’m easier than I thought.”
“You’re damn smart is what you are, I’ve said that before. He’s a good guy. But let’s be clear about this, you don’t just like him, you like him a lot.”
