by Heidi Betts
Kara hoped she wasn’t grasping at straws, but what Laurel was saying made sense to her. Parts of it, anyway.
“What about him jumping from you to me so quickly?” she wondered. Half-aloud, maybe, but really wanting—needing—an answer. “He couldn’t have been ready to marry you, then suddenly develop feelings for me in the space of a single week. Could he?”
“No, I don’t think he could,” Laurel said, her features softening. “I think maybe you’re the one he’s been interested in all along—even if he didn’t realize it. He was only marrying me because he thought it was time to settle down and start a family, and we’d always been close. Good friends who could maybe grow to be something more.”
Reaching out, Laurel took her hand. “But, honey, we weren’t sleeping together. That’s one of the things that helped me realize we probably shouldn’t be married. We’d kissed, of course, but even that was…bland. There was no spark between us, no need to be together or inability to keep our hands off each other. We were just friends, and I was afraid that’s all we’d ever really be.”
The air got trapped in Kara’s lungs and she suddenly couldn’t breathe. No sex. No spark. Just friends. Three things that definitely couldn’t be said about her time with Eli.
With them, there had been enough sparks to light up the entire North American sky on the Fourth of July. The sex had been spectacular. They’d done it round-the-clock…and tried to find time to squeeze in even more.
And the just friends part… They were friends, but didn’t think they could ever again be defined as “just friends.” Maybe they hadn’t ever been; maybe there had always been more between them but lying dormant. Lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be let loose.
She lifted her head to find Laurel grinning at her. “The sex was good, huh?”
“Phenomenal,” Kara admitted, barely able to hold back a starry-eyed sigh.
“I told you,” Laurel said, looking entirely too smug and self-satisfied. “He’s always been closer to you than the rest of us.”
It was Kara’s turn to frown. “What do you mean?”
“Kara,” her sister said gently, “haven’t you ever noticed how solicitous he is of you? At Sunday dinner, he always finds a way to sit next to you. Even while we were engaged, he somehow managed to finagle himself so that you were on his one side and I was on the other.”
She hadn’t noticed, though thinking back, she realized he did end up next to her during most of her family’s gatherings.
“He calls you ‘sugar’ and ‘darlin’,” Laurel continued. “He never used endearments with me. I was always simply ‘Laurel’.”
That was true. He called her those things all the time, she just hadn’t realized he didn’t also use them with her sister or other women.
“And whenever we all get together, he seems to gravitate to you. Sitting on the arm of your chair…hanging out in the backyard while you help Mama with her flowers…offering you a hand while you’re in the kitchen putting together a plate of cookies or making a pitcher of sweet tea.”
True.
True.
True.
“He never did those things with you?” she asked.
“No,” Laurel replied. “He was a gentleman, don’t get me wrong. He pulled out chairs, brought me drinks, walked me to the door after we’d been out to dinner. But he didn’t look at me the way he looks at you. His voice didn’t go whiskey-soft when he spoke to me the way it does when he talks to you. And he never took me away for the weekend so he could ravish me within an inch of my life.”
Kara flushed at her sister’s pinpoint accuracy—and the knowing grin on her face.
“I don’t know what the deal is with this Diane woman,” Laurel volunteered, “but I’d be careful about taking her at her word too easily. Talk to Eli. Ask him flat-out whether or not he’s having an affair with her behind your back.” Her lips twisted in distaste. “While you’re at it, ask if he was seeing her behind my back, just because I’m curious. If he was—and is—then he’s just about the biggest jerk on the face of the earth, and I think we should hire a mercenary to take him into the jungle, stake him spread-eagle to the ground, and leave him as fresh meat for big cats and flesh-eating ants.”
The image made Kara chuckle, even though she would never actually want to see Eli subjected to such an act. Then again, if he was a cheating, two-timing S.O.B., he deserved much worse.
“But, really, ask him,” Laurel suggested again. “Give him a chance to defend himself—or come clean, if need be. I’d hate to see you miss out on something phenomenal—” she winked, tossing Kara’s own descriptive term back in her face “—over little more than a misunderstanding…or a third-party troublemaker up to no good.”
Propping her elbow on the table, Kara blew out a breath and rested her chin in the cradle of her hand. “When did you get so dang smart?” she asked her sister, slightly annoyed that she suddenly felt like she deserved to sit in the corner with a dunce cap on her head.
Laurel chuckled, reaching for the final bite of her muffin and popping it into her mouth. “I’ve always been this smart. You just never noticed before because you didn’t want to admit your older sister might actually be able to teach you something about life.”
They both knew that wasn’t entirely true, but if Laurel wanted to gloat, Kara was more than happy to let her. This time, at least.
“Well, you’ve taught me something today,” Kara told her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Though I’d appreciate it more if you were thanking me for keeping you from making the biggest mistake of your life…and for helping you find true love.”
With a wide smile—the first she’d let slip out since she’d returned from Ocean Breezes—Kara leaned over and hugged her sister tight.
“Give me a little more time,” she said just above her sister’s ear. “Maybe I still will.”
Fifteen
Once Laurel was certain Kara had no intention of climbing back into her pajamas and under the covers with a pint of fudge ripple to wallow in self-pity for another week, she agreed to leave her to her own devices. Seeing her home, she gave her a hug and a peck on each cheek, then headed back to work.
Her sister had nothing to worry about, though. Kara felt excited, energized, hopeful.
As soon as she shut the front door behind her sister, Kara tossed her purse at the hall credenza and raced upstairs, kicking off her shoes and beginning to undress along the way. To go out with her sister, she’d thrown on a simple pair of white shorts and turquoise camisole top embellished with sequins and beading along the neckline. But that wasn’t remarkable enough for what she planned to do next.
Because her makeup was, indeed, a mess from her crying jag, she washed her face a second time, then left her skin to dry a bit while she rooted through her closet for just the right dress…just the right shoes. She didn’t want to overdo it, though.
Look good? Yes.
Show Eli what he’d be missing if he gave the wrong answers or turned out to be a jerk of the first order, after all? Yes.
Look as though she belonged down by the docks, selling her wares to every sailor and fisherman who stumbled off a boat at the end of the night? No.
Look desperate or needy or gullible? Definitely not.
So she bypassed the “evening wear” and “beauty pageant” sections of her wardrobe. The “summer casual” and “work formal” collections were out, too. That left her everyday, nine-to-five clothes—which were actually very nice—and things she wore to luncheons or the country club.
Perfect.
She opted for a satiny slip dress in butter yellow with blue piping at the arms and throat, and tall blue bachelor’s buttons at the bottom as though they were growing up from the hem. Next came a pair of retro wedge sling-back espadrilles, and then she was off to the bathroom to fix her hair and re-apply her makeup.
Half an hour later, she retrieved her purse from the floor beside the credenza and darted out the
door. It took what felt like forever to get through midday traffic to the business district where Eli’s office was located and make it up to his floor. She was positively vibrating the entire elevator ride.
With a quick finger-wave to the main receptionist, she headed down the hall to Eli’s office. She’d been here so many times, she didn’t bother to stop out front anymore, but went straight to Penelope, Eli’s personal assistant.
The older woman was sitting behind her desk, fingers flying across the keyboard as she worked. She must have seen Kara in her peripheral vision, though, because her head came up the second Kara stepped through the doorway.
“Well, hey there, Miz Kincaid. How are you today?”
“Fine, Penelope, thank you. How are you?”
“Just dandy, thanks.”
“Is Eli here?” Kara asked. “I really need to speak with him.”
“I’m so sorry, hon, but he’s not in. He took the whole day off, actually.”
“Oh.” Kara’s face fell, taking her heart with it. She hadn’t expected that and didn’t have a back-up plan.
Penelope cocked her head to the side, giving Kara a sympathetic glance. “I’m not supposed to do this, but I don’t think he’d mind me telling you. He’s at the park.”
“The park?” Kara asked in surprise. That didn’t sound like Eli. Except for their time on Seabrook Island, he tended to be a bit of a workaholic. He’d rather be closed up in his office poring over paperwork than out taking a leisurely stroll.
“Yeah. Wannamaker Park. He’ll be there for a few hours, at least.”
“Thank you,” Kara said, spinning on her heel and rushing out of the office.
“Good luck!” Penelope called after her.
Kara couldn’t imagine what Eli was doing at the park. On a beautiful spring day like today, the place was packed. Children everywhere—running, playing, laughing. Parents watching, chasing, wiping runny noses and blowing on scraped knees. It didn’t seem even remotely Eli’s style.
Still, she was here, and Eli supposedly was, so she wasn’t leaving until she’d either found him or scoured every inch of the park to be certain he wasn’t here. Which was easier said than done.
She checked the playground and the picnic areas. Dodged skateboarders and bike riders.
Just when she was about to give up, she heard loud singing, and turned to see a crowd dotted by balloons and party hats. The group was mostly children, but children of varying ages with a few adults thrown in.
Moving closer, she found herself humming along with the off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” as she glanced over everyone’s heads, thinking perhaps Eli was standing on the other side of the birthday gathering, watching the festivities.
The song drew to a close, followed by a group outcry for the birthday boy or girl to “Blow out the candles! Blow out the candles!” But when it came to that, six or eight of the children gathered most closely around the table leaned in to do the deed.
Odd, Kara thought, but though she was distracted by her search for Eli, Kara couldn’t help smiling at the sheer joy emanating from the partygoers. Warm memories of her own childhood birthday parties, and those of her brothers’ and sisters’, played through her head.
And then, at the very center of the crowd, a man who must have been crouched down beside the picnic table stood. He was holding a large plastic knife in anticipation of cutting the cake, wearing a yellow, pointy-tipped, glitter-covered paperboard hat and smiling the widest smile she’d ever seen.
Eli laughed at something a young black boy said, and began doling out evenly sliced squares of the giant sheet cake to the two or three dozen other children dancing around, awaiting their sugar high.
Rooted to the spot, Kara watched him. He was dressed very casually in jeans and a blue chambray shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscled forearms, and looked more handsome than she could ever remember seeing him. Then again, they’d been apart for a whole week, so maybe she was simply starved for the sight of him.
She couldn’t quite make sense of what Eli was doing in the middle of a child’s birthday bash, but she didn’t care. Her head buzzed and her pulse raced while she waited none too patiently for him to finish passing out cake. A woman beside him was adding scoops of ice cream to each plate, which slowed down the process and added to Kara’s growing anticipation.
Finally, all the kids and most of the adults had their servings and were digging in, and she couldn’t stand it a moment longer.
“Eli,” she called out, hoping he would hear her over the voices of the boisterous children. “Eli!”
He turned, his eyes going wide when he spotted her at the edge of the party-hatted crowd. Passing the knife to the woman in charge of ice cream, he started toward her, weaving between children until they stood only inches apart.
“Kara.”
He breathed her name, making it sound like a wish, a prayer, an endearment, and her knees went weak. Her heart pounded so hard, she was sure he could see it through her dress.
“I called,” he said, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“I know. I’m sorry, I just…”
She trailed off. Now that she was here with him, close enough to reach out and touch him—which she wanted to do so badly her palms were tingling—she didn’t know where to start.
“I was upset,” she told him honestly. “I needed time.”
Eli rocked back on his heels, fighting the urge to drag her against his chest and kiss her senseless. His gaze raked over her again and again, taking in the glorious fall of her auburn hair, her sparkling green eyes, those rose petal lips, and her womanly curves beneath a dress that was pretty enough…but would look even better in a pile on the floor beside his bed.
He couldn’t ravish her just yet. They had some things to discuss first. Important things.
She licked her lips, and her gaze skittered over his shoulder. “What is this?” she asked.
He didn’t bother looking. The noise level alone told him all was well and everybody was having a good time.
“Never mind that.” He shrugged off the question, more interested in getting an answer to his own.
“Why did you leave the island, Kara? I thought we were fine.”
Better than fine, actually. He’d thought they were well on their way to damn near perfect. Realizing they weren’t, remembering the moment of panic he’d felt when he’d realized she wasn’t just late getting back to the suite, but gone— and not coming back—caused his mouth to turn down.
“Then you disappeared without a word.”
He watched her chest hitch as she inhaled deeply.
“Because I was hurt. And angry. And felt like a fool.”
His brows knit. “Why?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. He knew more, in fact, than she did at this point, but wanted to hear the situation from her perspective.
Rather than answering his question, she asked one of her own. Tipping her head to the side, she said, “Are you sleeping with Diane Montgomery? And don’t you lie to me, Elijah James Houghton,” she added in a tone that reminded him entirely too much of his mother, complete with a finger waggled under his nose.
He bit back a grin at her flushed cheeks and riled disposition. If she suspected he found this conversation entertaining in any way, he would be knee-deep in swamp water. She’d likely kick him in the shin or smack him with her purse in front of the entire park full of people. But it was almost impossible not to be amused and even energized by her barely suppressed outrage.
What wasn’t amusing was the fact that she’d run away from him in the first place instead of coming to him with her suspicions and concerns…even her fury. If she’d stuck around to confront him while they were still at Ocean Breezes, they could have hashed this all out in a matter of hours and spent the rest of the week enjoying themselves. And each other.
But they were here now, and though he’d have picked a different venue for this discussion, he wasn’t going to
pass up the opportunity to work this out once and for all.
“No. I am not sleeping with Diane,” he told her in no uncertain terms. “We were involved once, a few years ago, but not now.”
Kara worried the inside of her bottom lip. “That’s why I left,” she said softly. “Diane told me you were having an affair. She said you had some sordid plan to marry a Kincaid just to get into the family and increase both your bank account and your social standing, but were going to continue seeing her behind Laurel’s—and then my—back. Using Ocean Breezes as your own personal love nest,” she added with a disgusted twist of her lips.
Eli scowled. “And you believed her.”
She had the decency to flush. “Yes. Or maybe I was just afraid not to believe her.”
Her gaze dropped to her feet, where she was dragging the toe of one shoe back and forth along the grass. Then her shoulders drooped and she gave a loud sigh before heading away from the party toward an empty picnic table. He followed, knowing they weren’t finished with their discussion.
She perched on the end of one of the bench seats, setting her purse on the table and straightening the skirt of her dress to keep from flashing too much leg. He liked her legs; he wouldn’t have minded seeing her flash a bit more of them.
Taking a deep breath and finding courage, she turned to face him again. “I let myself get comfortable with you, feel…maybe too much for you.”
A stab of optimism shot through him. Her eyes were the dark green of summer moss, brimming with emotion as she spoke. He wanted to haul her into his arms right then, or at least reach across the table and take her hand, but he needed to hear this. He needed to know what she was thinking and how she felt about him now…before he told her the way it was going to be.
“I was really enjoying our time at the resort, but in the back of my mind, I don’t think I ever truly believed any of it—anything between us—was real.”
