by Diane Darcy
She’d tossed and turned all night and finally come to the conclusion that she obviously couldn’t stay at Trevor’s any longer, and that she couldn’t even trust herself to be around him.
Why hadn’t she stayed in a hotel to begin with?
And what had happened to the fact that when she made a promise, she kept it? She’d made a promise to Christian and now had to face the fact that she was a liar and a cheat.
Trevor was like forbidden fruit. She’d tried all night to push the experience they’d shared on the stairs from her mind. The drugging kisses, the incredible way he’d felt against her. But it was all she could think about.
He was all she could think about.
It hadn’t even been a little peck, but a full-blown make-out session! Trevor was probably thinking she was easy, the type of girl who indulged in vacation romances behind her fiancé’s back. Her cheeks heated. After her behavior, how could she deny it?
She couldn’t face him. Trevor would get up, shower, and be waiting with breakfast again, just like he’d done for the last four days. She knew he would. It was almost like she’d felt him, all night long, waiting in the other room.
And the really sad thing was she still wanted to see him! She wanted to go downstairs and act like nothing had changed so she could be with him, so they could spend the entire day together.
She wondered if she ought to call Christian immediately and confess everything. That would be like a quick plunge in cold water, and a well-needed reality check.
She looked at her cell phone, but couldn’t get herself to do it. No need to ruin Christian’s fun weekend trip, right? Plus a conversation like that was better face to face.
Tears filled her eyes, and she pressed a blouse to her face. That way he could dump her in person!
It was no less than she deserved.
She finished packing, closed up her suitcase, then shuffled through her toiletries bag. She’d left her straightener in the bathroom again, but didn’t dare get it. Didn’t dare risk running into Trevor. She could buy a new one after she’d settled into the hotel.
She sat on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes, fighting back fresh tears. Was she fooling herself? Should she just drop out of the brokerage class and go straight home? She could tell Nick he’d have to deal with the purchase of the property himself.
But he’d want to know why.
And this close to her goal, she didn’t want to drop the class. It had taken forever to arrange her schedule, and everyone would want to know the reason she’d quit. She couldn’t face that.
She dug in her purse for a tissue and wiped her eyes. Was she making too big a deal out of the whole thing? If she just stayed away from Trevor, could she still work it all out?
At seven o’clock, she heard the shower running and hoped it was Trevor and not Elizabeth. Since she’d heard Elizabeth come in late, Honey was pretty confident she’d still be asleep.
After one last look around the tidied room, she quietly opened the bedroom door, pulled her rolling luggage behind her, and carried it down the stairs.
She was a big coward.
She wasn’t even going to try and deny it. And Trevor must already think the worst of her, anyway.
She left the note on the kitchen table, quietly opened the front door, and headed to her car. She stowed her things and took one last look at the place. A sense of yearning filled her. For Trevor?
She was an incredible fool.
Starting the car, she slowly reversed out of the driveway, tires crunching on the gravel. She needed to keep her physical and emotional distance from Trevor.
Cowardly, yes. But completely necessary for her peace of mind, and for any hopes of a relationship with Christian.
***
As Trevor washed his hair, then his newly shaven face under the shower, he couldn’t stop smiling. The anticipation of seeing Honey again this morning was making him loopy.
He wanted to kiss her again. He’d lay awake half the night, reliving it, thrilled about the way she’d responded to him. He couldn’t wait to get downstairs.
He was a little worried she might be feeling guilty because of her fiancé, but Trevor wasn’t impressed with him. Even Trevor wouldn’t choose fishing with the boys over a weekend with Honey.
Hello!
Add that to the stilted way she’d spoken to the guy on the phone, and the way she’d responded to Trevor, and it all sort of spoke for itself, didn’t it?
He had the day all planned out. He’d make a great breakfast and wait for Honey to come downstairs. They’d take their time eating, and he’d see what she wanted to do. Perhaps he could suggest more sightseeing, and then he’d take her to a nice lunch.
While they were out, he could ease Honey into a talk about her fiancé and the possibility of a break up. Trevor would convince her to explore a relationship with him instead. If he could get her somewhere private, maybe a few more kisses would help with her decision.
Trevor grinned at the prospect, hastily dressed, and sped down the stairs. A quick peek into the living room assured him Honey wasn’t there, and he headed for the kitchen.
Immediately he noticed a note on the table with his name on it. His heartbeat sped up and his stomach clenched as he reached for the envelope. He opened the one page note and read.
...regret what’s happened...ashamed of my behavior...love my fiancé...gone to stay in a hotel.
Trevor’s stomach started to ache like a fist had plowed into it. He strode into the living-room and jerked open the blinds to look out the window.
Her car was gone.
She’d left? Just like that, without even talking to him first? He crumpled the note in his fist. How could she simply take off after the way she’d responded to him the night before?
There was no need for her to feel ashamed. She wasn’t even married. Trevor’s own wife hadn’t shown the slightest bit of shame when she’d left him for another guy, and she’d made promises before family, friends, and God.
He turned away from the window. What did he do now? Should he leave her alone? Respect her wishes, even though it was like a knife in his gut? Maybe she really was happy with her fiancé and Trevor was messing with her life? The way the guy who’d stolen his wife had messed with his?
He pushed the ugly thought away. All was fair in love and war before marriage. Trevor really believed that was true. Honey wasn’t married yet, and until she was, Trevor wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Elizabeth came down the stairs and Trevor shoved the note into the front pocket of his jeans and followed her into the kitchen. “Honey is gone,” he said, his tone flat.
Elizabeth turned from the pantry door she was opening, her brows rose. “Gone?”
“She went to stay in a hotel.”
“Did something happen?” asked Elizabeth.
Trevor didn’t answer.
“You botched it, huh?”
Trevor shrugged.
Elizabeth sighed, grabbed a box of cereal, and headed to the kitchen counter. “Well, maybe it’s for the best. You two could have ended up married, and let’s face it, marriage isn’t the wonderful bill of goods everyone tries to sell, is it?”
She set the box down. “You’re out now. Free. Do you really want to try it again?”
Trevor considered mentioning their mom and dad, but now wasn’t the time to throw a happy marriage in her face. Especially since he hadn’t been willing to look at that fact for the last three years. Besides, under her flippant tone he could hear the hurt in her voice.
“Is your marriage over? Or is it still salvageable?” Trevor asked gently.
Elizabeth reached into the cupboard for a cereal bowl, set it down and stared at it. She finally shrugged. “I just don’t know.” She blinked rapidly. “There are the kids to consider.”
Trevor moved around the counter and pulled Elizabeth into a hug. She laid her cheek on his chest and sighed.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to beat him up?”
Elizabeth laughed, slapped Trevor’s shoulder, and moved away. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m torturing him in my own not-so-subtle way.”
She poured some cereal, while Trevor stood, indecisive. Should he wait to see if Honey would call him? Call her first? Go find her? He’d like to go after Honey right now, find the hotel she was staying at and convince her to talk this through. Every instinct screamed at him to do so.
Elizabeth leaned against the counter, finished a bite of cereal, and waved her spoon at Trevor. “You really like Honey, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Go after her?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Should you chase her if she’s not interested?”
He though about the kiss and his chin lifted. “I wouldn’t say she’s not interested.”
Elizabeth studied him as she munched the cereal. “Well, if you’re not giving up, you’re leaving out the obvious solution.”
“Which is?”
Her lips curled into a smile. “Call Mom.”
After a moment, Trevor slowly smiled back, then headed for the phone.
Chapter Nine
Honey stood in front of her hotel window and held the curtain back to stare down at a young family happily splashing below.
She had a perfect view of the pool, which was just her luck recently, wasn’t it? She dropped the curtain and turned away.
The hotel room was nice. It was where she should have been from the beginning. A nice desk to study at. Nice decor. Nice bed. Nice privacy. She was happy to be there, right? Right.
Moving forward, she repositioned her laptop on the desk, straightened her pens, the telephone, and a pad of paper.
She had everything she needed. And no gorgeous man to snatch her attention away from her goals and make her feel...well, anything.
She sighed, sat in the swivel chair, and gently moved back and forth. After expelling another breath, Honey leaned forward, snatched her cell phone out of her purse, and dialed Nick.
What she needed to do was finish the job once and for all. Then there’d be no chance of seeing Trevor again. It was only fair to Christian and the commitment she’d made to him.
Nick’s voicemail picked up and Honey immediately hung up and tried the office.
“Hello?”
“Michelle? Hi, it’s Honey. Do you know where Nick is?”
“Not right offhand.”
Michelle’s nonchalant tone had Honey gritting her teeth. She propped her feet on the desk, crossed her legs to rest one on the other, and took a calming breath. “Well, could you find him, please?”
“He’s not available. If you’d like, I can take a message.”
Honey narrowed her eyes. Nick made himself available whenever there was a deal in the works. “Tell Nick I want more information on this property deal in Redding or I’m finished with the whole thing. I want to know who it’s for, what it’s for, and why Nick wants the property in his name. Okay?”
“Got it.”
“Also, I’m staying at a hotel now.” Honey read off the phone number and room information.
“Got it.” Michelle laughed. “So what happened? Get kicked out of the cushy house? Clients could only stomach your goody-two-shoes act for one week? Do you need me to come and help you? Hold your hand? What do they think of you now, I wonder?”
“Goodbye, Michelle.” Honey hung up, but couldn’t help wondering what Trevor did think about her now. Running out hadn’t been gracious, but certainly necessary from her point-of-view.
She’d almost expected a call from him. Not that she would have answered. But still, she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit miffed that he hadn’t even tried.
She sighed again, well aware that, after telling him not to, her attitude was completely unreasonable.
The phone rang and Honey picked it up to check the caller ID, half expecting it to be Michelle again, calling to pick at her some more.
It was Trevor’s mother.
Honey’s feet fell to the floor. No way did she want to answer any questions right now.
Or was it Trevor using his mother’s phone?
Honey scrambled to answer, almost dropping the phone. “Hello?” Her voice was breathless.
“Hi, Honey, it’s Laura.”
“Oh, hi.”
Laura started to chatter, wondering how the sightseeing had gone, and glad the weather had been good, and the spurt of hope Honey had felt deflated. She quickly assured herself she was feeling relief and not disappointment.
“Anyway,” said Laura, and Honey forced herself to pay attention. “I feel terrible about deserting you last night! I wonder if we could meet for lunch tomorrow afternoon if your schedule allows?”
It could actually be a really good idea to have lunch with Laura. In Honey’s experience wives always had a lot of influence. Perhaps Honey could get out of seeing Trevor again if his mom could help her wrap up the deal? Maybe Laura could twist her husband’s arm and get the paperwork signed? Honey wasn’t above begging for help at this point.
“That sounds wonderful,” said Honey. “My class breaks for lunch at noon.”
“Wonderful! Do you know where the American Grille is located?”
“Yes, I ate there once last week.”
“Great! I’ll be waiting.”
After Honey hung up, she wondered why the thought of seeing Laura rather than Trevor filled her with depression.
***
Trevor needed to quit pacing or he’d wear a hole in the hardwood floor of his living room. He needed to do something, anything, or else wondering what his mother was up to would drive him crazy.
Glancing out his front window, streaks of egg he’d missed during the cleanup the night before had his lips tugging upward.
He strode to his office, grabbed the keys to his truck, and headed out the door.
He’d visit the kids who’d used his house for target practice, starting with the one with hate in his eyes.
Trevor would talk to the boy’s parents, then leave them to sort the kid out. It would give Trevor something to do as well as take care of the ongoing problem. Win-win situation as far as he was concerned.
With a feeling of purpose and relief, he drove to his office, empty on Sunday, let himself in, and copied addresses from a report he’d written. Back outside again, he headed over to Dylan Eley’s place.
He parked his truck down the street so as not to spook the kid into running and headed to the house and up the stairs, avoiding the flowerpots decorating each step.
He rang the bell, and a moment later a blonde woman, thirtyish and pretty, answered the door. “Can I help you?”
“Mrs. Eley?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, I’m Trevor Baron, a local game warden. I’m here to talk about your son, Dylan. He’s been giving me a lot of grief lately.”
“Dylan has?” Visibly worried, she opened the screen door.
“Yes. Along with two other boys. But I get the feeling Dylan is the leader of their little group. I’ve caught them illegally fishing a few times, and in retribution, they’ve toilet papered my house, soaped my windows, and then last night threw eggs at my place.”
Mrs. Eley’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Trevor noticed she didn’t doubt her son’s involvement. It was a relief that he wasn’t going to have to fight any denials, and at the same time very telling. The kid must be giving her a lot of problems.
Her hand waved in the air. “His father is stationed in Iraq right now. It’s been hard on Dylan. He misses him.”
Trevor nodded. “I’m sorry. That must be tough on you, too.”
Mrs. Eley looked suddenly hopeful. “Maybe you could have a word with him?”
“Me?” asked Trevor, startled.
“Yes. He’s not here right now, but he should be back within ten minutes or so. Would you like to wait?”
Trevor hesitated. H
e’d started it, and it looked like he’d have to finish it, too. At least he’d be distracted from thoughts of Honey for a while. “Uh, okay. Sure.”
“Great! Come in.”
Trevor went inside the pristine home and took a seat on the couch she indicated. She sat across from him, a strained smile on her face as she studied him. Trevor wasn’t sure where to look and glanced around the room.
An ivory couch, pink chairs, striped wallpaper. He’d have gone off to war, too, just to regain his masculinity.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure.” Better than staring at each other.
She was back a few minutes later with a couple of cold lemonades and some bright pink flower coasters.
She set the coasters on the glass table, handed him his drink and sat across from him again. “Aren’t you Greg and Laura Baron’s son?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “They’re members of my Rotary club. Laura’s told me about you.”
“Oh.” Trevor wondered just what his mother had said, but considering the divorce and his general moodiness over the last few years, decided he didn’t want to know.
“Good things,” clarified Mrs. Ely, seeming to read his mind. “She says you like fishing?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Dylan does, too. He used to go with his father all the time.” Mrs. Eley looked down, then up again. “I’m worried about the way Dylan’s acting out. He’s so angry all the time.”
She studied Trevor, her gaze suddenly calculating. “You know, I believe my son needs the influence of a good man in his life.”
Uncomfortable, Trevor looked down at his drink. Surely she wasn’t suggesting him? “Oh? When does your husband come home?”
“Not for--”
The screen door flew open. “Hi, Mom, I’m--” the kid spotted him and stopped. He looked from Trevor, to his mother, and back to Trevor again.
His mother stood. “Come inside, shut the door, and have a seat, young man,” she said sternly.
The kid’s expression turned mulish, and for a moment Trevor thought he might bolt. But a look at his mother changed his mind and his shoulders slumped, he slammed the door, threw his back pack down, and flung himself into a chair.
