by Nikki Duncan
“You’ve named him and kept him there to remind you of the man you can’t let go. Just like you limit yourself to one candy bar from your basket a day.”
“It’s an apt name as Trevor is a rat. The candy bars…” She shrugged. “That’s simply weight management.”
“Says the short bean pole with an adolescent runner’s metabolism.” Misty plucked a candy bar from the basket, ripped it open and took a big bite. “I have to work out an hour a day to afford one of these a week and you sit here with twenty or so on your desk.”
“I didn’t buy them for myself.”
“No.” Misty drew the word out drastically. “The man of your dreams lured you to his bed with them.”
“Oh please,” Lori admonished. “He isn’t the man of my dreams. I wasn’t lured with chocolate.” Pity she didn’t convince herself with the evasion. It had been his help in the warehouse that had nudged her over the line of resistance.
“Don’t act coy with me. I’ve known you since preschool. I know when you’re lying and I know when you’ve been with a man.”
“Your radar must be broken.”
“No. If it wasn’t chocolate it was his inventory skills and pizza. It’s been six days since you walked in here with a distracted smile on your face, and even though you’ve learned the truth about Trevor’s engagement and his wedding intentions, even though you’ve rejected his proposal, you’re still working on sketches for the wedding.”
She told Misty too much. “These are for my portfolio.”
“And yet they’re exactly what you always said you wanted for yourself.”
Lori looked at the scenes she’d drawn of a bride and groom standing beneath a gazebo with the ocean behind them, of a first dance with bridesmaids on the outskirts dressed in dresses of the palest lavender holding small bouquets of matching roses, of a four-tiered, white cake with thin piping on the second and bottom layers in the same shade of lavender, of the bride in an a-line dress with sterling threading woven along the bottom hem and up to frame the small slit in the skirt.
So what if the groom looked like Trevor and the bride had her hair color and style. It didn’t matter that sterling roses were her favorite so much so she’d almost used one in her logo before deciding Tulle and Tulips had a more romantic ring than Tulle and Roses.
“These images depict an elegant and simple wedding suitable for many women. I’ve also done ones of lavishly extravagant events, beach gatherings and small courthouse weddings.”
“But those have been sent to the framer for the walls while you hoard these.” Misty took a bite of the gooey candy bar and then spoke around nuts and nougat. “Just admit the truth.”
“What truth?”
“You want to accept Trevor’s proposal. You want to plan this wedding and frame the actual photographs of you and him for your walls.”
“You’re crazy.” She couldn’t concoct a believable argument for herself. How could she hope to convince Misty who was so right about her? Especially when she couldn’t tell her darkest secrets?
“I’m not the one working at nine on a Sunday on a wedding plan no one will be shown.”
“Nonsense.”
“Well.” Misty popped the rest of the candy bar into her mouth and talked around it. “If it’s nonsense and I’m so crazy then you won’t be interested in hearing Trevor’s on his way here.”
“You couldn’t possibly know that.” But damn if her heart didn’t kick with excitement.
“Okay.” Misty tossed the wrapper into the trash. “But if you want to get back into his bed I suggest you unbury yourself from work and find some courage. The man’s only going to ask you so many times.”
Misty headed toward the door completely unrepentant for her lack of finesse or her use of information Lori had shared. She’d always been honest, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. It was a trait Lori loved because it forced her to strive for the same.
“He hasn’t called or made a move in six days, Misty.” She had really lost her ability to lie or hide her feelings. “How can you think he still wants me?”
“And I thought you were smart.”
“Hey!”
“He’s using reverse psychology. The classic take-away,” Misty shrugged. “It’s all about you getting messed up so you realize how much you need him. Miss him. Love him.”
“I don’t.” She stopped herself with a quick headshake. Her heart raced at the idea of Trevor still wanting her.
“Do you really think so? You think he could be the right guy for me?”
She wasn’t certain what she wanted to hear, and nothing Misty said would end her emotional wavering, but curiosity was a nagging bitch with a loud voice.
“No,” Misty drawled with rare sarcasm. “I think he’s a horrible match. It makes no difference that you light up when you hear his name or see him walking by or when you look at one of the gifts he’s picked for you. It doesn’t mean shit that he can’t pass through the lobby without stopping and hoping to catch a glimpse of you.” Misty moved to the drafting table and rested a hand over Lori’s. She softened her tone. “I know you’re still healing from whatever you went through all those months ago, but maybe it’s time you risk something in your personal life.”
“I can’t handle another break.”
“Who says you’ll have to?”
Trevor leaned against the wall in the hall outside the double glass doors newly etched with a long-stemmed tulip, vibrant purple in hue with the petals just opening. The artist had balanced the bloom so perfectly it seemed to quiver at eye level with the stem stretching down, with three delicate leaves.
The stems disappeared at the bottom of the floor behind white and ivory ripples of fabric and lace. The business name, Tulle and Tulips Designer Weddings, floated above the etched fabric with the tails of scripty letters just barely brushing the fabric.
He’d seen a sketch of the doors, but what he’d visualized was drastically less elegant than the finished product.
His banker—his dad—had practically wept at the amount of money he’d put into an account for her. Lori had only smiled, said thank you and set about turning her visions into reality. And much to his surprise, despite their blatant curiosity, neither his mom nor his dad had been by to check out Lori or her new venture.
The time would come though. Soon.
“If you’re waiting for her to come out,” Misty said as she exited the shop, “you should invest in a cot.”
“Work that late will she?”
“Yeah.” Glancing over her shoulder toward the out of sight friend she’d just left, Misty moved closer. “I don’t know you, Trevor.”
“But?”
“But I’m glad you’ve made this possible for Lori. She needed…” She trailed off, shifting her feet as if she wouldn’t continue. She didn’t for a long while. “Life hasn’t been kind to Lori. She’s more fragile than she seems.”
He figured as much. “And putting this business together as quickly as possible is her current therapy.”
Misty’s head popped back in surprise. “You say that as if you understand her.”
“Life stopped showing me kindness for a while.” Until Lori walked back into it. “Work is a natural and relatively safe refuge.” Numbers and plans didn’t betray you and when you signed checks with enough zeroes people forgave most overzealous demands.
Though from what he’d heard, Lori hadn’t quite reached levels he’d been known for and the workers on her job were as eager to get started each day as they were willing to stay late if needed. It made sense. According to a shared insight during dinner the other night, Lori’s granddad had worked in construction, so she understood the demands of the work. Understood them doubly since he had died when she was ten because a builder in a rush had cut safety corners.
“If you know that then maybe you could help her see how closely she’s treading the line of burnout.”
“Gladly.” He pushed off the wall and Misty headed toward the parking ga
rage. Her challenge had been issued and accepted.
He opened the double doors with a grin stretching his cheeks. It was time for Lori Mullins to rediscover another part of her life.
“Oh, Lori. Come out, come out wherever you are.”
Her muffled “here” came from her office near the back. He headed her way, calling out as he went.
“Well get out here. We have plans.”
In her silence he could picture her scanning her memory for plans they didn’t make. When she sauntered out, the confusion he’d expected was rife on her face.
“What plans?”
“Ones that get you away from work for awhile.” Light of heart and ready to play, he conquered the remaining distance—ignoring the suspicion in her stare—grabbed her hands and pulled her flush against him.
Her head dropped back. Her mouth parted. She expected a kiss, and while her body, even her eyes, said it would be welcomed, a glimmer of her protective barrier—no more than a bracing of her shoulders really—stopped him from claiming her mouth as he’d planned. Instead, he kissed the pulse pounding below her ear, loitering for a moment to absorb the feel of her. Then he released her.
“Get what you need to lock up, but you won’t want to mess with a purse.”
“What are you up to?” She glanced down at her blouse, jeans and slipper shoes and then back at him still in his suit. “I’m not exactly dressed for the kind of scene you are.”
“You’re perfect.” Rather than wait for an argument, he turned her back toward her office and gave her a little nudge. “Get your keys. Meet me out front.”
He was almost to the entrance when she called out. “I don’t appreciate being given orders.”
Too bad. He didn’t look back at her. He didn’t stop. He did shrug.
“Don’t keep me waiting, Lori. Even Job had his limits.”
In the outer hallway, away from anyone’s curious eyes, and Lori’s cautious ones, Trevor broke into a jog, pulling his tie and jacket off as he went. At his car, he pulled a blanket from the trunk and lowered the top.
Step one in reminding Lori how to enjoy life—have her feel the wind in her hair. Step two—keep her off balance.
Chapter Eight
Trusting the vacancy that had been in Trevor’s gaze was scary. If he’d had a glint of wickedness or hint of arousal she’d have known how to act. She should be prepared anyway, thanks to the government’s training, but Trevor rattled her foundations. Yet instead of second-guessing him she doubted herself.
“Good evening, Lori.” Daniel, the night guard, smiled from behind the front security desk as he looked from her to Trevor waiting in a sleek Mercedes convertible at the curb outside and back to her. “Did Mr. Masters talk you out of your cave?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Good. You work too hard. Though I’ll miss seeing you on my evening rounds.”
“Try to manage.” She liked Daniel. He was cute and his flirtations did nothing for her, which made him the best kind of man. Safe. Trevor was anything but safe.
A blast of cold smacked at Lori as she pushed open the giant lobby doors. She pulled her jacket closed. Trevor had shed his tie, but other than his suit jacket he sat with the car top down as if it was summer. Given his mood inside—playful, carefree—he wouldn’t care about the chill. He probably wasn’t even noticing it.
“New car?” She remembered him having a four-door sedan suitable for driving business associates before.
“Yeah.” He leaned over and opened her door from the driver’s seat. “I decided to shed a little of my practicality.”
“Could we slip a little of it back on and raise the top?”
He smiled and patted the seat. “Live a little.”
She stepped closer and rested a hand on the door, but didn’t get in. “By freezing or by destroying my hair with windblown split ends?”
“Nothing a pair of scissors and a trim won’t fix.” He took her hand and tugged her into the car. Lori pulled her knees up, lifting her legs before her shins scraped along the door. She slid a little on the leather seat and had to grip the dash to steady herself. Trevor chuckled as he leaned over her to pull the door shut.
With his torso brushing hers, his lips lingering close, he stared into her eyes. Her slip-n-sliding belly skidded. Her teeter tottering heart trembled, transfixed on an upward totter. He was going to kiss her.
She licked her lips and canted forward. Cravings crashed through her, dared her to suggest they head back inside for some alone time.
“Buckle up.” Trevor patted her leg and sat up, leaving her hungry and confused.
“Where are we going?” She reached for the seatbelt. That was twice now he hadn’t taken the kiss. Twice he’d riled her up, flipped the switch on her arousal, and turned away. There wouldn’t be a third.
Trevor reached into the backseat and pulled out his silk tie and a blanket. “Cover up. Pull your hair back. Enjoy the ride.”
Her heart melted into a clichéd pile of goo as the weight of his expensive tie, relinquished for scrunchie-like purposes, settled in her palm before he pulled away and headed in the direction of the beach.
Tying her hair back, she turned to study him. Powerful and confident, relaxed and at peace, a smile danced on the edges of his lips. Wind rushed through his hair, passing Christmas lights and the moonlight kissed his skin. “You’ve changed.”
“So have you.” Before, he’d been protective about his clothes. Cautious to the point he’d always folded his tie and jacket when removing them. And he’d never rolled his sleeves. Only after he’d changed into jeans or shorts had he relaxed. Now, still in his suit, he was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.
“A few rough months will do that to a girl.” Rough. There’s an understatement.
“Make you more serious? Dark?” he asked.
“And you more carefree?” she countered.
A brightly lit fairground with a circling Ferris wheel loomed in the distance, growing larger each mile. Anxious with anticipation, her belly rose and fell, rose and fell and before long its circling and turning had synchronized with the wheel of happiness and fear.
Happiness because the crowds drawn in by the bright lights were most often smiling. Laughing.
Fear because crowds were unpredictable. A melting pot of predators watching for dropped guards. Dangerous.
The circling lights blurred. “It’s about finding the balance.”
“What?” She blinked free of the thoughts with bad memories trailing close behind.
“Life is scary. There are good times and bad. Easy and hard. We need to find a balance which allows us to enjoy the experiences.” He took her hand, linking their fingers as he gripped the gearshift using their hands as a unit. “I learned that from you, Lori.”
“How?” Their time together always revolved around work, with a little sex tossed in. They’d had a few intimate talks, though necessity of her life had kept her holding back. How could he have learned any life lessons from her?
Trevor pulled into the fairground parking lot and found a free space. Lori’s gaze ping-ponged between Trevor and the Ferris wheel, the Ferris wheel and Trevor. Her stomach somersaulted. The shouts and screams of the crowds, the scents of greasy food, the clinging and clanging games and rides, Christmas carols blasting through static filled speakers blended into a cacophony of racket that danced dreadfully on the air closer and closer.
Her turning belly raced end over end. Her heart clamored. Her eyes heated. She tugged at her hand but Trevor held firm.
“We had a regrettable ending before, Lori.”
“Is that what you call me almost getting you killed?” Trapped without escape between the rock of Trevor’s determination and the hard place of a carnival she wasn’t sure she could face, though she knew she should, Lori squeezed her eyes tight and willed the earth to consume her.
It didn’t. The noises rose and moved closer. Her heartbeat sped. Then Trevor’s palm came to rest on her
neck. Warm and settling like when he walked alongside her with his hand on her back the connection grounded her. The pulse points in her body still throbbed, but her ears cooled a degree or two.
“The only part of my accident I hold you responsible for, Lori, is the prevention of it being worse. I understand your need to hold things back, but almost having everything taken away, losing you, reminded me of the importance of pleasure. I only want to give you back what you’ve given me. I want to see you happy.”
His tone drifted with delicious sincerity on the air and soothed her. The terrifying edge of the noises receded. When she dared to open her eyes, scared to discover she’d read him wrong, she found an answering sincerity. She just wasn’t sure she knew how to be happy. Or if she deserved it.
The parking lot of a fairground was not the place to face the past or reveal herself to Trevor, but the time for avoidance to end had arrived.
“I wish I could explain everything to you as much as I wish I could accept what you’re offering.” It was another burst of unexpected truth.
Rather than giving platitudes or trying to coax free explanations, two moves she fully expected, he released her with a slow nod. Easily and unhurried, he went through the motions of closing up the car. Then he got out.
Sequestered in silence, Lori stared ahead. Her heart sped again with the unknown. What’s he going to do?
She lifted a shaking hand to the door but before she could engage the locks, Trevor pulled the door open and extended a hand. “Don’t try hiding from me.”
“I’m not going in there.” She crossed her arms and continued to stare ahead. Maybe if she acted mutinous enough he would change his mind about wanting to spend the evening with her because not going into the fairground was certainly her preference.
“It’s a fun place. Stop being petulant.” He untangled her arms and pulled her out. He handled her gently, but his unwillingness to argue was clear.
“I have…issues with this place.”
“Noted.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close.
