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[Kate's Boys 03] - Mistletoe and Miracles

Page 10

by Marie Ferrarella


  The only giveaway was the huge, wide smile that curved her lips. Chapter Ten

  Enveloped in night, the car’s smooth ride had all but rocked her to sleep. Laurel struggled to rouse herself. Taking a deep breath, she sat up straighter, adjusting her seat belt’s shoulder strap to move it away from the side of her neck where it had slipped.

  They were almost home.

  Twisting around, she looked into the backseat. Cody was sound asleep. Peace descended over her. When she saw him like that, she could almost pretend that everything was all right, that this was still the little boy who loved to run and play.

  “That was wonderful,” she said to Trent in a soft voice. “When you first suggested it, I didn’t think it was a very good idea.” Lord, but she was glad Trent hadn’t listened to her protest. “But he really started coming around today, didn’t he?”

  Trent pulled up in her driveway and switched off the ignition. “We’re still pretty far from the goalpost, but getting there.” It was obvious that he was pleased with how the outing had turned out.

  Getting out of his car, Trent rounded the hood and paused to open her door, then Cody’s. He leaned in and released the belts holding Cody in place. Very gently, he picked the boy up in his arms.

  “I can do that,” Laurel told him, moving so that she was beside him.

  But rather than transfer the boy into her arms, Trent continued to hold him. “No problem. Cody’s not exactly a big, husky kid,” he noted, his mouth curving. And then he raised his eyes to her face. “Takes after his mom that way.”

  Both she and Cody were small-boned. She laughed softly as she fell into step beside Trent. “It frustrated him, being the smallest in his kindergarten class. He wanted to be like his father. Tall and athletic. I told him he’d grow into it.”

  Her smile turned sad as she stopped by the front door. Trent thought it was because she missed her late husband. But her next words told him her mind was elsewhere.

  “It all sounds so normal, doesn’t it?”

  There was longing in her voice. He knew what she was thinking. She didn’t miss Matt. She missed the way Cody had been before the accident.

  “It will be again,” Trent told her. Unconsciously, he drew the sleeping boy closer to him, as if he could somehow transfer his own tranquility to Cody. “I promise.”

  Laurel pressed the keypad next to the door, disarming the security system before she inserted her key into the lock and opened the door. She entered first.

  “You can’t promise that,” she told him. Laurel shut the door behind Trent. “You don’t know that he’ll ever come around.” She’d been trying to educate herself about Cody’s condition ever since Trent had begun working with him. “I read a case study the other day online that said—”

  He turned toward her with Cody still nestled in his arms. About half of the information online was actually accurate. He didn’t want her to be misled.

  “Stop reading,” Trent advised her. “Every case is different. Cody will come around. I’m not going to give up on him.” It was a solemn, unshakable promise. She believed him. Not just because she wanted to, but because Trent was as good as his word. He always had been. “I don’t know how to thank you.” How do you begin to thank the person who saves your child?

  “You don’t have to,” he told her simply. “It’s my job. It’s what I do. What I am.”

  Her mouth curved. “A patron saint to lost children and their parents?”

  His eyes took on a twinkle as humor filled them. “I wouldn’t exactly go that far—

  but you can if you want to.” And then he looked at her more closely. Shadows began to form beneath her eyes. “You look tired, Laurel.”

  “It was a long day,” she reminded him and, except for the rides and the trip home, the entire time had been spent on her feet. It was taxing, keeping up not with Cody but with Trent.

  “Why don’t you stay down here?” he suggested. Trent nodded at the child in his arms. “I’ll go put him to bed.”

  Laurel opened her mouth to protest. After all, Cody was her son, her responsibility. But Trent was already heading toward the spiral staircase. For a moment, she just stood and watched him, holding back a flood of emotions that threatened to undo her.

  A bittersweet feeling pervaded Trent as he carried Laurel’s son up the stairs. He truly liked children, liked helping them, but the idea of having his own had never crossed his mind. Not since Laurel had vanished from his life. Because before children, there had to be a woman he loved, a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, have children with and share both laughter and tears.

  There was no such woman in his life. Not anymore.

  For the most part, when it came to matchmaking, Kate and his father had pretty much left him alone. But both Mike and Trevor had better halves now. While he was very fond of both his sisters-in-law, Miranda and Venus thought it was part of their responsibility to find a suitable match for him. Miranda would invite him over for dinner and, likely as not, a fourth place at the table would be occupied by some woman from the science community, where most of her friends were. Venus did the same, except that her friends were women whose faces on occasion graced the society pages of the L.A. Times. All in all, there’d been a bevy of interesting women, even beautiful women, but not once had he felt the slightest spark of electricity. There never had been that chemistry between him and a woman. Except for once.

  “And that was your mother,” he murmured out loud, addressing his words to the sleeping boy as he placed him on top of the comforter. Very carefully, he removed the boy’s sneakers and socks, putting them side by side on the floor next to the bed. He thought of getting the boy into pajamas, but he had a feeling that might wake up Cody. It was more important to let him continue sleeping. So instead of undressing him further, Trent took the end of the comforter and lightly covered the boy.

  For a moment, he just stood there, looking at Cody. Sleeping, the boy looked a great deal like his mother, Trent thought, an ache slipping into his chest. When he finally turned away, he found himself all but walking into Laurel, who stood in the doorway, apparently watching both of them. She nodded toward the sleeping boy, amusement curving the corners of her mouth.

  “You sleep in your clothes, too?”

  “Only when I’m too exhausted to change.” That had happened on a couple of occasions, back in his college days when he’d been cramming for a major exam on the next day. “I was afraid putting him into his pajamas might wake him up.”

  “He is a light sleeper,” she confirmed, and then she smiled. Trent just always inherently seemed to do the right thing. “Good instincts.”

  “Sometimes,” he allowed.

  Instantly, she knew he was talking about her. Or maybe that was just her paranoia spiking. Laurel quietly eased the bedroom door shut, then followed Trent downstairs. It seemed that lately she was always trying to keep down feelings that threatened to erupt. Seeing Trent again had stirred up so many emotions, causing her to revisit memories better left in the shadows.

  He was getting ready to leave. She could tell by his body language. It was late and he’d done more than enough for her, but she didn’t want to see him go. Not just yet. She didn’t want to let this feeling of hope, of well-being, evaporate, at least not for a few more minutes, and it would once Trent went out that door. She cast about for something to postpone the inevitable.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she offered. “Coffee, tea, something with alcohol?”

  What he wanted wasn’t anything that could be contained in a glass or a cup. The velvet darkness had ushered in some of the old feelings, making him want her. Which was why he knew he had to leave.

  “No, thanks. It’s late and I’d better get going so that you can get to bed, too.”

  Lately her nights had been long and drawn out, marked by bouts of sleeplessness.

  “Don’t leave because of that reason,” she urged. “I probably won’t get much sleep anyway.”


  She’d piqued his interest. “You have trouble sleeping?”

  She shrugged, realizing she shouldn’t have said anything. She didn’t want Trent thinking she’d become some high-strung, neurotic woman.

  “Can’t seem to shut down my mind at night.” It was at least partially true. “Too much to think about.”

  He wondered what kept Laurel up at night. Was it just her concern for Cody, or did she regret what might have been between them?

  “You could have your doctor prescribe a mild sleeping pill,” he suggested. “A lot of new things on the market might help you.”

  She shook her head. “That’s okay. I’d rather not start pumping things into my system like—” Realizing her mistake, Laurel abruptly stopped talking. She didn’t have to finish. He knew what she was about to say.

  “Like your mother?” he asked gently.

  He didn’t know all the details of the story, but in a particularly stressful moment, she had told him that after her mother had thrown her father out and they’d divorced, her mother had started taking pills to get to sleep. Moreover, she had begun to drink to get through the days. Grace Valentine had remained a prisoner of both for more than ten years until she’d finally managed to triumph over her addictions.

  Laurel raised her chin. She and her mother had gone through some rough patches, especially after she’d married Matt, but she was devoted to the woman and very protective of her.

  “She’s still on the wagon,” she said defensively.

  He smiled, nodding. He knew how much that meant to Laurel. “Good for her.”

  Nerves began to surface. Maybe it was better that he left now. These feelings she was having would only further complicate things. She could handle one problem at a time, she told herself.

  “Thank you again,” she said.

  His eyes crinkled. “The pleasure was entirely mine, Laurel.”

  This was where he was supposed to turn on his heel and head out the door. Why he didn’t was a testimony to the fact that he was only human. Maybe a little too human.

  He caught himself missing Laurel. Missing the feelings that only she was capable of generating within him, even now. Only she had made him willing to risk the heartache and disappointment that lurked within the shadows of a relationship.

  Of a marriage.

  And how’s that working for you? Trent mocked himself.

  But common sense proved no deterrent. Trent knew what he was going to do the second he looked into her eyes. It was a foregone conclusion. It was his destiny, karma or whatever the proper term was for the madness that assaulted him.

  He had no choice. He had to kiss her. Had to take hold of her shoulders and bring his mouth down to hers. The moment his lips touched hers, he felt the explosion, felt the rush.

  He wanted her—wanted her so badly that he felt if he didn’t have her he would self-destruct right here in her grand foyer with its marble floors and seven-tiered crystal chandelier.

  Trent deepened the kiss, hardly aware that he was even doing it. Deepened it as his hands slipped from her shoulders and moved up along the sides of her neck to frame her face, touching her as if she were fragile and precious. As if a single wrong move would make her break into a thousand little pieces. Her head spun. Only Trent could do that to her. Only he could make her blood rush and her pulse race. Only he could make her knees turn to mush. A soft moan escaped her lips as Laurel bent into him. She could feel her body heating.

  And then the old demons came back, the ones that had been forged the night her father had come into her room and with one thoughtless, self-centered and cruel act, had ripped her away from her childhood.

  No, you can’t do this.

  Shaking, Laurel pulled back her head. There were tears in her eyes as she looked at him. How could she be afraid of the very thing she yearned for?

  “Trent—”

  Her tone stopped him far more effectively than any words could. Memories of squelched frustration assaulted him. Nothing had changed. She was still withdrawing from him. Withdrawing from him while she’d given herself to the man she’d married.

  Trent took a step back, struggling for composure. “Sorry,” he apologized stiffly.

  “Told you I should be going.” With that, he walked out.

  He’d almost reached his car when he thought he heard her. Turning, he asked,

  “What did you say?”

  Laurel leaned against the doorjamb. The word nothing hovered on her lips. But that would have been a lie. He didn’t deserve a lie just because she’d lost her nerve. Taking a breath, she repeated her words. “It wasn’t that I didn’t love you, you know.”

  Out of the many meanings Laurel could have intended, he instinctively knew a lack of love hadn’t been the reason she’d turned down his proposal. His lips twisted in a bitter smile. “It’s just that you didn’t love me enough.”

  She shook her head, struggling to keep tears at bay. She couldn’t feel sorry for herself. Her life had played out a certain way and she had to accept that.

  “No, that wasn’t it.” She spoke so softly, she forced him to double back in order to hear her. “I loved you more than I thought I could.” She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, to moisten them. “I was just afraid.” Laurel raised her eyes to his face. “Afraid to say yes and then disappoint you.” Distress filled her voice. “Afraid that I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be.”

  He wouldn’t have put demands on her. Didn’t she know that? He’d loved her too much to bring her pain. “And what is it that you thought I wanted you to be?”

  “A wife,” she whispered. A wife and all that entailed. Because she was frozen inside. So frozen. The little girl whose virginity had been stolen from her had shut down the woman who came to be in her place.

  He would have believed her—if it weren’t for the fact that she had gotten married so shortly afterward. “And you could for Matt?”

  That, too, was something she would always pay for. But there, at least, she had done some good. “That was different.”

  “How?” Trent asked, his emotions getting the better of him. He raised his voice without realizing it. “How was that different?”

  She turned away from him, knotting her fingers together helplessly. She just should have let him leave.

  “It just was,” she finally said to him, her eyes pleading for understanding if not forgiveness. “It had nothing to do with how I felt about you, I swear it.” She pressed her lips together, thinking of how she’d sold herself for a price. “I had to marry Matt.”

  Trent stared at her, not quite processing what she was telling him. Was she telling him—“You were pregnant?” he asked incredulously.

  “No.” And then she laughed shortly, although there was no humor in the sound.

  “That was one of the reasons he married me, I think. Because I was such a challenge for him. Because I was a virgin and his ego liked the idea of being first. No one had ever said no to him before.” Matt had been so certain that he could make fireworks go off for her. And he had become angry when he saw that he couldn’t. To avoid blaming himself, he blamed her.

  She closed her eyes, doing her best not to relive the memory.

  “But it bothered him that I couldn’t respond to him. I tried.” Opening her eyes again, she looked at Trent, afraid of seeing pity in his eyes. “I really tried but every time he touched me, I just froze.” As she spoke, her breathing grew shallow.

  “Especially when he became angry and demanding.”

  But that, she thought, was the nature of the beast. She just hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

  “Matt was accustomed to getting—or buying—everything he wanted without any opposition, so he wasn’t a very patient man. But it got harder instead of easier.” A shiver slid up and down her spine. “I cringed inside every time he came to bed. So he stopped coming.”

  Trent heard what she wasn’t saying. “And started spending time with other women?”

  She
nodded. “Not that Matt needed much of an excuse. I think the women would have come even if I had satisfied him.” She tried to shrug off the matter, but he could see that it had hurt her. “He was just that kind of a person. Matt needed to be revered, needed to bask in the light of adoring eyes.”

  Moved, wishing he could make the pain in her eyes disappear, Trent touched her face ever so lightly. “There is a very hypnotic glow in your eyes right now,” he told her, his voice low, seductive. “I could see how a man could get trapped there.”

  To his surprise, rather than saying something self-deprecating, Laurel threaded her arms around his neck. And then she kissed him. Kissed him hard.

  With feeling.

  As if she were desperately trying to outdistance her demons. The ones that so often commandeered her, mind and body, so that she couldn’t let herself go. Couldn’t allow herself to be his.

  Stunned, Trent drew back. Either he was dreaming or had somehow slipped into a parallel universe.

  “You might not realize it, but this isn’t exactly the right way to say no,” he pointed out. A man could only be so strong before all control was torn out of his hands and he became a pawn of his own desires.

  “That’s because I’m not saying no,” she told him breathlessly, a heartbeat before she sealed her lips back to his.

  Chapter Eleven

  Trent knew he had no option. He had to save Laurel from herself—even if he was going to hate himself for this in the morning. Hell, what morning? He wasn’t all that delighted with himself right now. But he knew that Laurel was exceptionally vulnerable and he couldn’t take advantage of that, couldn’t, only because of a weak moment. It just wouldn’t be right.

  So, hard as it was, he gently removed her arms from around his neck and drew his mouth away from hers. He could feel everything inside of him shouting in protest. He continued to hold her hands in his as he searched her face for his own answers.

 

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