Wild Iris Ridge (Hope's Crossing)

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Wild Iris Ridge (Hope's Crossing) Page 20

by RaeAnne Thayne


  But after a moment, he shrugged. “We shared one night. One kiss.”

  Did she tell him that for her, that one kiss had always been simmering between them? “A pretty intense kiss,” she finally said. “After which you completely brushed me off and started dating my best friend.”

  “Is that why you despised me? Why you told Jess she could do better than a washed-up jock with more muscles than brains?”

  She gaped at him and then felt color soak her cheeks as she remembered that heated conversation with Jess on the eve of their wedding, when she had tried one last time to convince her not to marry a man Lucy worried would just break Jessie’s heart. Like he had broken her own.

  “She told you that?”

  “Why shouldn’t she? You said it, didn’t you?”

  “Ye-es,” she said slowly, wishing she could sneak into that closet and just slam the door closed behind her so she didn’t have to face him right now.

  Wasn’t it bad enough that she couldn’t seem to control herself around the man? Now he had to dredge up some of her most embarrassing moments and toss them out into the middle of the room between them.

  “Okay, I admit, I was a...a jerk after you and Jess started dating. My feelings were hurt, okay? I liked you. A lot. I know we only spent the one evening together, but I’d never really dated anybody seriously, especially not...somebody like you.”

  “Somebody like me? You mean a big dumb jock?”

  She felt uncomfortably exposed, all her insecurities laid bare in front of him.

  “You were never that. You were...gorgeous and fun and sweet. Or at least I thought so. This is corny, but it felt like you saw me in a way that no one else ever had. I don’t know how else to describe it, I just know I liked you a lot and I wanted to see where things between us might go.”

  She shrugged, inordinately fascinated with the chevron pattern of the parquet floor. “But you never called me and the next thing I know, Jess starts bubbling over about the great guy she was seeing. Imagine how I felt when the great guy turns out to be you. It stung my pride more than a little. My best friend and the first guy I ever really liked seriously. It didn’t bring out the best in me. I wanted to think you were just a jerk who went around breaking as many hearts as you could.”

  “That wasn’t who I was. You know that, right? You were an...anomaly.”

  “An anomaly.”

  “And I was the jerk,” he muttered with a pained expression. “I should have called you to explain, especially after I found out you were Jessie’s friend.”

  “What would you have explained?” she asked, suddenly desperate to know he hadn’t set out to break her heart just as a joke or something.

  He sighed. “This is really awkward, Lucy.”

  “You’re telling me,” she muttered.

  “Okay. Here it is. I’ve always had this idea of what I wanted out of life. What my parents had. After my mom died, I guess I idealized my childhood probably more than I should have. What I had as a kid seemed...perfect to me. After I left the NFL, all I could think about was having the same thing. Living in Hope’s Crossing, settling down, raising a couple of kids here.”

  “White picket fence and all.”

  “Something like that.” He made a face. “I liked you, too, for what it’s worth. I wasn’t just messing around. But that night, as I listened to you talk about your goals and your dreams and all the hills you wanted to conquer, I couldn’t quite make those two pictures gel in my mind. I figured it wasn’t worth wasting either of our time when we wanted different things and we’d only shared a few kisses.”

  “And then you met Jess,” she said quietly. “And she did want that white picket fence and everything that came with it.”

  “Or at least she said she did,” he said darkly.

  “Why would you say that?”

  He eased away and went to sit on the window ledge. “Do you remember when she was pregnant with Faith and came up to Seattle for a week?”

  She smiled at the memory, even as her heart ached a little. “We had a great time. We went to every single baby clothing boutique in three counties, bought way too much, ate even more, stayed up all night and laughed.”

  His jaw tightened. “After she came home, she cried herself to sleep for the first three nights she was back, and she could barely look at me.”

  Lucy stared. “You think she was unhappy being married to you?”

  “I think some part of her saw you in your element, this exciting world filled with travel to exotic places, a challenging career, interesting friends, while she was now pregnant and facing a lifetime stuck in the same small town. All she talked about was the shopping, the fantastic restaurants, the parties you went to.”

  That was so far removed from the long, hard corporate days that made up her usual life in Seattle that she almost laughed.

  “The truth is,” she said, with stark, uncomfortable honesty, “maybe I went a little over-the-top on the trip trying to prove to her what a perfect life I had created for myself. Maybe I wanted her to be envious of me, for a change.”

  She wanted to recall the revealing words as soon as she spoke them, especially after he gave her a searching look that made her flush.

  “I’m pretty sure it worked. She was envious of you and your success. She didn’t begrudge it. I think she just contrasted it to her world of facing dirty diapers and the terrible twos and oatmeal ground into the carpet. Even after that, whenever she talked to you, she would be in a difficult mood for at least a day or two before she snapped out of it.”

  No wonder he resented her, if he blamed her for causing Jessie even a moment’s discontent.

  She meant what she said to him, she had always been the one envying her cousin her great marriage, adorable children, a community that cherished her.

  “She loved you, Brendan, with her whole heart. She loved you, she loved the kids, she loved your life together here in Hope’s Crossing.”

  “I know she did,” he said, his voice low. “That doesn’t mean she didn’t have regrets.”

  The ache in his voice arrowed straight to her heart. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to love someone so deeply and then lose her. Second-guessing his wife’s happiness and commitment to the life they had created together was a futile, heartbreaking exercise, and she couldn’t bear knowing she might have contributed to some of his uncertainty out of some stupid effort to protect her ego.

  “Regret and curiosity are not at all the same thing, Brendan. Here’s the thing about women. Sometimes even when we have everything we ever dreamed, we wonder about the road we didn’t take, the choice we didn’t make. We wonder who we might have become, even when we absolutely, positively would still make the same choices again, a hundred times over. If Jess ever seemed unhappy, I’m sure it was only for a moment and only because she was curious about the person she might have been if her life had gone in a different direction. It wasn’t because she ever regretted loving you.”

  He gazed at her and she wondered what he was thinking. Why did the man have to be so blasted inscrutable?

  “And just so you know,” she was compelled to add, “I believe Jess made the best possible choice with her life. I’m the one who always envied her.”

  Okay, that was enough true confession for this evening’s program. She jumped off the bed. “We’d better go check on the kids. Thanks for helping me move the bed and for...everything.”

  She hurried from the room before he could answer.

  * * *

  “I’M GOING TO have to take a break pretty soon or my arm is going to fall off,” Crystal declared.

  A week later, the two of them were painting one of the bedrooms on the second floor. This one was a lovely soft lavender that would look magnificent with the deep oak moldings and the pale marble fireplace mantel
.

  “Let’s see if we can finish this wall and then we’ll wrap things up for the day. Maybe we can take a walk or something. It looks like a gorgeous evening out there.”

  Between the puppy, Crystal’s schoolwork and the fast-progressing work on Iris House, they had been insanely busy the past week, but everything was moving along nicely.

  “We should have another barbecue,” Crystal said. “That was fun last week, and Max has only played with Daisy one time, when we met the kids and their babysitter at the park.”

  Lucy forced a smile, even though her insides felt a little hollow every time she thought about Brendan and the last time she had seen him. That fierce, intense kiss haunted her every time she walked into that bedroom—okay, let’s face it, every time she closed her eyes—and the conversation afterward had been even more troubling.

  She had basically told him that she’d been crushing on him for years, that she had been cold to him all this time because her feelings had been hurt that he’d picked her best friend over her.

  She was such an idiot.

  She hadn’t seen him in a week, so he obviously had been too embarrassed to face her after that humiliating revelation.

  The playdate with the kids and their kindly babysitter had been a coincidental thing that had only come about after Crystal happened to be walking past their house with Max and had bumped into Faith and Carter, out walking Daisy.

  “There. That’s it for me,” she said as she set down the cutting brush Genevieve had taught her to use to get a clean, crisp line between colors.

  “I’ll be done with the rolling in a minute, then I’m so ready to be done.”

  She was just cleaning off her brush in the adjacent bathroom when she heard the chime of the doorbell.

  “I’ll get it,” Lucy said. “It’s probably Genevieve. She mentioned she was going to drop off the curtains she sewed for this room today so we can hang them as soon as we’re done painting. You stay here. I’ll grab it.”

  The puppy, chunky and adorable, yipped when she passed the tall-sided box where they had restrained him while they painted.

  “You’re probably due to go out, aren’t you?” Max wasn’t anywhere close to being trained but they were doing their best to reinforce the basic concept with him.

  She scooped him up and headed for the door and down the stairs as the doorbell rang again.

  “I’m coming,” she called.

  A quick glance in the ornately carved mirror hanging in the front hall revealed the damages were worse than she imagined. Her hair was falling from its braid and she had a small smear of lavender paint on her cheekbone. She scrubbed at it with the rag from her back pocket, which left her cheek reddened but at least removed the paint.

  She was a far cry from the polished, perfectly groomed professional who rushed out the door every morning with a go-cup in one hand and a laptop case in the other.

  At random moments, she missed a few things from her previous life but mostly she was too busy to think about it.

  The bell rang a third time—Genevieve wasn’t always the most patient of people—and she hastily headed over and yanked it open. “Sorry. We’re in the middle of painting the lavender room...”

  The words caught in her throat, and her heart did a happy little jump when she realized her visitor wasn’t her designer and friend after all, but the big, gorgeous fire chief of Hope’s Crossing.

  She drew in a breath, telling her heart to simmer down. That scene upstairs seemed burned in her brain suddenly, and she knew her face must be suddenly bright red.

  “Brendan. Hi. This is a surprise.”

  Too embarrassed to meet his gaze, she focused on his left earlobe—which, naturally, was perfectly shaped, just like the rest of him. If an earlobe could be perfectly shaped, anyway.

  “Hi,” he said, his voice gruff.

  “Hi, Aunt Lucy!”

  Ah. Here was a person she wasn’t afraid to face. She had been so busy stewing in her own embarrassment and trying to avoid making direct eye contact with Brendan, she hadn’t noticed Carter standing next to his father.

  “Why, if it isn’t my favorite almost-six-year-old!”

  “I know. That’s me.”

  She smiled and leaned down for a kiss, deeply grateful for the buffer.

  “Come in. Excuse the mess. We’re in renovation mode.”

  “Looks like you’ve had a busy week.”

  “Yes. Things are progressing nicely. Can I get you guys something? I’ve got soda, juice or water.”

  He shook his head, but Carter tugged her hand eagerly. “Hey, can I have a juice box?”

  “Sure, kiddo. You know where they are, right? Same place as last time.”

  “Yep.”

  He left, and she suddenly realized what a strategic error that had been as she and Brendan were now alone in the foyer except for one four-pound puppy.

  “Wow. Max is growing. Hey, dude.”

  He reached out to take the puppy from her. Their fingers brushed as she handed Max over, and she felt a corresponding tug in her gut. It seemed grossly unfair that a simple touch could leave her insides quivering.

  He didn’t help matters when he held Max to eye level and started talking to him, nonsense about how much he was growing and how he hoped Max was behaving himself and using good manners.

  Unfair, she thought again. How on earth was any woman supposed to resist a big, tough firefighter who could talk sweetly to a tiny puffball of a puppy—and even more sweetly to his children?

  “How’s Daisy?” she asked.

  “Growing a ton. Just like Max. Her new favorite game is hide-and-seek. She loves to hide under the sofa and jump out and scare you.”

  “You’re so keeping her, aren’t you?”

  He made a face. “You knew we were goners from the beginning. How can I rip her out of my kids’ arms?”

  “Softie.”

  “The writing was on the wall for us the minute Faith held her.”

  She relaxed enough to smile a little at his disgruntled tone, which didn’t fool her for a second. “Yeah. Same here. Crystal is in love. She’s working hard on her parents to convince them if they let her keep Max when she goes back home, she’ll never cause them another moment’s grief.”

  “She still leaving this week? This is the end of her two-week’s grace period, isn’t it?”

  “I’m a sucker for puppies and teenage girls, apparently. Things have been going so well, I’ve agreed to let her stay another few weeks. We’ll see what happens. So far, everything seems to be working out.”

  “Have you heard they found the guy who dumped the puppies?”

  “No,” she exclaimed.

  “Chief McKnight probably hasn’t had a chance to call you yet. He updated me this morning. Turns out, he traced evidence he found on the box markings to an idiot twenty-year-old half-stoned ski bum, Andy Barfuss, who left town the day before we found the puppies. It turns out, Max and Daisy’s mother was a stray Andy’s roommate had been taking care of over the winter. When the roommate took off after the ski season ended, he dumped the responsibility on Andy, who claims the mother was run over by a car the night before he was supposed to leave for another job at some resort up in Jackson Hole. He says he was desperate and didn’t know what else to do.”

  “So he just dumped them in a garbage bin? It never occurred to him to call the Humane Society?”

  “He figured they would die, anyway, without their mother. I get the impression from Riley that Barfuss is a few peas short of a casserole.”

  “I guess it was lucky we found the puppies when we did.”

  “For them, anyway,” he muttered, not fooling her for a moment. He might complain about having a dog, but she couldn’t see anything but affection as he held Max—and this puppy wasn
’t even the one his children adored most.

  “I was just going to take him out,” she said.

  “I’ll do it,” he said, and headed out the front door just as Carter returned from the kitchen poking the straw through the top of his juice box.

  “I found an apple one. That’s my favorite.”

  “Good job.”

  “Hey, where’s my dad?”

  She pointed out the door. “He took Max out to the grass.”

  “Oh.”

  The boy headed out onto the porch. “Did you give it to her, Dad?” he called to his father, who stood on a little patch of grass waiting for Max, who seemed to be more interested in sniffing Brendan’s shoes than taking care of business.

  “No. That was your job, remember? I guess you got distracted by Lucy’s goodies.”

  Brendan aimed a quick look in her direction then glanced away again, making her wonder if he was also distracted by her...goodies.

  “You have it, though, right?” Carter pressed, heading down the steps. Lucy followed out of curiosity.

  “Right here.” Brendan pulled an envelope out of the breast pocket of his shirt and handed it to Carter, who in turn delivered it to Lucy with an elaborate flourish.

  “Wow. What’s this?”

  “It’s an invitation! I want you to come to my party!” Carter beamed at her.

  “A party? Wow! What kind of party?”

  “Birthday, silly! In five more days, I’m going to be six years old. And guess what? I’m having two parties. One is just my friends. We’re having pizza and going swimming.”

  “That sounds fun, but I might have to go buy a new swimsuit.”

  He giggled. “You can come swimming if you want to. It’s at the recreation center on Saturday. Then Sunday night, on my real birthday, we’re having a party at Grandpop Caine’s house, and my dad said I could invite you and Crystal if I wanted. We’re having hot dogs and cake and chocolate ice cream.”

  “Three of my very favorite things. Thank you! We would be honored to celebrate your birthday with you.”

  “Does that mean you’ll come?”

  “Yes. We’ll be there.”

 

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