by Unknown
She drew a halting breath, touched by his admission. Maybe she’d been wrong about Laird. Maybe she’d been wrong about a lot of things. “When I was staying with you…I thought we were getting close. I felt safe around you, which was something I hadn’t felt since my attack. Was it all smoke and mirrors or did you mean any of the things you said to me?”
“Some of it.”
“How much?”
“More than I was comfortable,” he said.
She digested his comment, realizing there was more to Laird than he let on. A deeper sense of soul than he wanted others to know about.
“Do you regret not finishing to get your MBA?”
He hesitated and then nodded. “Yeah. I never thought I would but as I’ve gotten older…seems like a handy thing to have. Plus, if Nolan and Vince could finish, why couldn’t I stick it out a few more semesters?”
“You could always go back.”
“Maybe,” he allowed with a negligent shrug but she sensed this was the first time he’d actually talked about something this personal with anyone and it meant something to her. “How about you? College?”
“I started but never finished either. Emma was so disappointed. I felt bad for letting her down but school was never easy for me. I struggled for every grade and I was just tired of fighting for something that I didn’t even know if it was for me.”
Talking like this, reminded of how sweet and caring Laird had been during that time she’d been in his care and she realized she very much liked this side of Laird. But how was she supposed to know if this was the real Laird or just another act?
***
He was playing a dangerous game. Or was he playing at all? He couldn’t tell anymore. All he knew was that sitting her with Lana felt good, natural. Relaxing, even. He leaned back against the sofa and watched Lana talk animatedly about her childhood, about how hard it was when her parents died in a car accident and Emma had to work two jobs to keep food on the table. He’d never gone a day in his life worrying about where his next meal would come from. There was a saying that struggle built character. Maybe that was his defect — he had no character. Even now, when his mind should’ve known better, he was thinking of things that really shouldn’t have any place in his mental theater.
“Can I say something?” he broke in, impulsively and Lana stopped to wait expectantly. He sat up and moved closer, grasping her hand in his. “I want to kiss you again.” She opened her mouth to protest but he shook his head and said, “Please. Let me make up for last night. I won’t touch you anywhere you don’t want to be touched, I promise.”
Her eyes wide and vulnerable, she whispered, “Why?”
“Because I want to overwrite that bad shit you have running in your head. Don’t let that asshole live rent-free in your head, sweetheart. And,” he added with a small smile “because I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She blushed and looked away. “C’mon now, I look terrible. I haven’t even brushed my teeth today.”
He laughed and gently pulled her close, saying, “I don’t mind” and then pressed his lips gently against hers, loving the feel of her soft flesh moving against his, the tentative touch of her tongue. He pulled away, admiring how the light bathed her face in a warm glow. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She shook her head, biting her lip. “Can we do it again?” he asked. She nodded and he went in for another kiss, this time deepening the kiss slowly, going by her cues and body language. Her breathing turned shallow and he could sense her arousal. This was where things had gone sour the last time. He deliberately slowed his sensual attentions and pulled back, letting her breathe for a moment. “You good?”
“Yeah,” she answered, smiling shyly. “You’re a good kisser.”
“I know.” Lana laughed at his smug answer and tossed a throw pillow at him, which he caught as he laughed. He sobered to tell her, “I could kiss you all night. And if you would let me, I’d make love you, to remind you that not all touch is bad. I would consider it my honor to do that for you.”
Her smile faded and his heart actually felt her withdrawal as she shook her head. “I’m not ready for that,” she said, scooting away from him. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” he told her, hating that he’d pushed too hard too soon. He had an idea. “How about this…let’s rent a flick, pop some corn and just cuddle up and watch movies together. I promise nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? Aren’t we friends?”
She considered his question and then answered slowly, “I’m not sure. I don’t kiss my friends like that.”
“Neither do I,” he admitted and he realized he was being truthful. He was a man-slut of the highest order but he never fully gave of himself when he was with someone. Not so with Lana. He felt…at home with her. For the first time ever, Laird had to wonder if Nolan had been right and that his feelings for Lana went deeper than he wanted to admit. “I have a form of dyslexia,” he said, not sure why he was sharing something so personal but it felt right. “It’s why I struggled in school and why I ultimately dropped out of college. I was just tired of the fight. And the money was an easy out. I wish I hadn’t taken it.”
A beat of silence passed between them and then Lana said, “Would you be willing to sit through a chick-flick?”
“Will it make me cry like a little baby?”
“Probably.”
“Then, absolutely. I’m in need of a good cry anyway.”
Lana’s laughter lit up his soul in a way that shocked and scared him a little but he liked it, too. There was more to Lana than just the fact that she’d been brutalized. He’d always been able to see that. But where did he fit into the picture? He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who nurtured very well. Too spoiled, too self-centered to think of anyone’s needs aside from his own. And Lana needed someone who would always think of her needs first.
He was kidding himself that he could be anything but a painful chapter in Lana’s life if he stuck around. He’d been right to bail the first time around and now he was setting her up to do it again.
“Ahhh, crap,” he exclaimed, moving off the sofa with a chagrined expression. “I just remembered I committed myself to a project with Vince tonight and there’s no way I can wiggle out of it. I’m sorry. Raincheck?”
Her expression fell but she nodded and he felt like a shit for letting her down but he couldn’t continue down this path when he couldn’t be sure that his intentions were pure. “Sure,” she said, her gaze going to the flowers. “Thank you for the pick-me-up…and the flowers.”
He risked a smile and his gut did a little warning flippety-flop, telling him that he was in over his head.
And he wasn’t about to drag Lana through something that might end up hurting her in the end.
-7-
Emma was in an awesome mood, in spite of the mild nausea that seemed to dog her ever step, and she was bound and determined to get her sister to agree to spend Christmas with them at the Buchanan’s place up in the Hamptons. She hummed as she let herself into Lana’s apartment and immediately noted the huge spray of flowers on her kitchen counter and alarm doused her previous good mood. “Where did these come from?” she queried, going straight to Big Sister Mode. “Are these from Laird?”
“Um, yes they are actually. Aren’t they beautiful?”
“Gorgeous. Not the point. Why is he sending you flowers?”
“Geez, Emma, calm down. Why can’t Laird send me flowers?”
Emma’s gaze narrowed. “Because he’s a notorious man-whore who can’t be trusted when it comes to the tender hearts of women.”
“Who says I’m tender-hearted?”
Emma’s expression softened as she said, “Honey, I’m just trying to look out for you. Laird is not the man for you.”
A spurt of indignation colored her voice as she said, “I’m not a child. I don’t need you tell
ing me who and I can and can’t accept flowers from.”
Taken aback by Lana’s show of spirit, Emma back pedaled a little. “I’m just worried that you might get the wrong idea about Laird and end up getting hurt.”
“And what idea would that be? That he’s my knight in shining armor? The man I’m going to settle down with and have babies with? Don’t worry, Emma…I don’t believe that man exists,” Lana said with a snort.
“Well, of course, he exists. Somewhere. Just not Laird.”
“Just for sake of argument, why do you hate Laird so much?”
Emma went on the defensive. “I didn’t say that I hated him. He’s Vince’s best friend. I could never hate him. But I don’t like him very much, that’s true.”
“Why?”
“Because Laird is the one who has been whispering in Vince’s ear to keep that stupid club. I want it out of our lives and somehow Laird keeps drawing Vince back into club affairs under the pretense that it’s just club business. How do I know he’s not getting blow jobs at the club?”
Understanding dawned and she felt bad for her sister. “Don’t you trust Vince?”
“Of course I do but I’d be stupid to blindly trust, right?”
“I suppose so. Have you talked to Vince about it?”
Emma felt miserable. “Sort of. But I always lose my temper and we end up fighting about it. I turn into a miserable shrew and I hate it, which only makes me hate that club even more.”
“I’m not a huge fan, myself,” Lana agreed. “Maybe I could talk to Laird about it, get him to see your side of things.”
Emma shook her head adamantly. “No, no, I don’t want you doing that. Frankly, I was so irritated with Vince when he set you up with Laird for that dinner fundraiser. I was hoping he would find a nice doctor or lawyer or maybe a dentist to set you up with…certainly not his degenerate bestie.”
“Laird isn’t that bad. In fact, he’s actually pretty sweet if you get to know him.”
Emma arched a brow. “Oh? And you think you know him?”
“As well as he lets me, of course. People only let others see what they want them to see. I respect that. I know he’s not going to bare his soul for me and I don’t expect it but the small bits I have seen…are pretty honest and I like it.”
“Honey, you don’t know what kind of pervert he is.”
“Unless you’re planning on sleeping with him, I don’t see how that should bother you.”
“Not for me, for you!”
Lana laughed. “You know I wasn’t a virgin right? I used to have sex pretty regularly. I miss it, actually,” she admitted, chuckling at the awkardness of the conversation. Emma had been like a surrogate mom when their parents died and sometimes it was hard just to be sisters. “Look, I appreciate you looking out for me, I always have, but you don’t have to do that anymore.”
Emma prepared to deliver the unpopular opinion. “I hate to be the bad guy but you’re still not healed. You hide in your house and you refuse therapy. What else am I supposed to think? Maybe you should move in with me and Vince. The house is plenty big enough.”
“God no,” Lana said, horrified at the very idea. “I don’t need to move in with you and Vince. That makes me want to vomit. I need my space. No offense. Besides, you need to stop being so preoccupied with my problems and start focusing on the biggest thing happening in your life. Have you told Vince yet?” Emma couldn’t hide from the truth and Lana saw the answer in her eyes. “Don’t you think you ought to tell him before too long? I have a feeling he might notice that you’re putting on some pounds eventually.”
“Oh, he loves when I put on weight,” Emma grumbled. “Says it makes my butt and boobs more of a handful, which he thinks is just great.”
“You’re lucky. Most men freak out when their women gain weight.”
“Vince is not like most men,” Emma sighed. “And that’s a good thing but I haven’t figured out how to tell him.”
“Easy — you say, ‘Vince, you knocked me up.’ Boom, message delivered.”
“That’s a terrible way to break the news,” Emma disagreed, appalled. “What happened to your delicate nature? You used to be so sensitive.”
“A long time ago. Long, long time ago. I’m in favor of the direct approach now.”
Emma sighed, nodding. “Well, cutting to the chase would certainly lift this incredible pressure that’s crushing me.”
“Do you think he won’t be happy about the news?”
“I don’t know, I think so.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m not quite ready to admit that I’m pregnant. It happened faster than I thought it would. Maybe I thought I’d have more time to get used to the idea.”
“Well, you have nine months to get used to it, I guess,” Lana said pragmatically and Emma nodded in resigned agreement.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy, it’s just…I don’t know, it’s a big change.”
“The biggest,” Lana agreed but wrapped Emma in the hug she desperately needed, saying, “You’re going to be a great mom.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you were a great standin for me,” she said, snuggling Emma tightly. “Now, please tell your husband so we can start planning for that little princess, or prince.”
Emma wiped her eyes and nodded as Lana let go. “Oh! I completely forgot why I came over in the first place. Pregnancy brain. So, we’re going to spend Christmas at the Hampton estate and we’d like to invite you to come with us.”
“You definitely have pregnancy brain — you already told me about this and I already declined. I’m not going to rain on your Christmas getaway with your husband. I already feel like a third wheel most days. I’d rather not perpetuate the feeling.”
“You’re not a third wheel,” Emma protested but Lana wasn’t going to budge. Sensing defeat, Emma stopped with a pout. “Fine. But I won’t stop asking.”
“One track mind,” Lana said with a sigh. “Was that everything?”
“Um, yeah, I think so.” She turned to head toward the door but then stopped and said, “Look, I know you’re an adult and you’re capable of taking care of yourself but just promise me you’ll think twice before getting involved with someone like Laird. I swear I take no pleasure in saying, I told you, so, when he hurts you, because he will. He can’t help himself. He’s just not cut out for one woman. Monogamy to Laird…is like a communicable disease — best if avoided.”
***
A week later Emma insisted that Lana attend a dinner party they were throwing, claiming she needed back-up. Apparently, ‘the cousins’ were in town and Emma didn’t seem too happy about it.
Lana, knowing she couldn’t leave her sister to flounder, particularly in her delicate state, agreed to go but found herself wishing she could gracefully bow out as she approached the front door of the Buchanan mansion. The place was monstrous — something out of a gothic movie, really. Not very cozy, if you asked Lana but those Buchanans seemed happy to fill it with future generations as both Nolan and Dillon had kids and unbeknownst to Vince, he was about to add to the brood as well.
Lana blew out a determined breath and knocked on the front door. A servant — did they call him a servant? — opened the door and ushered her in, saying, “Please follow me to the drawing room,” and after relinquishing her coat, followed the stiff-lipped older gentleman to where the party was in full swing. The room was large but the low buzz of laughter and music filled the air. Lana zoomed in on Emma but her attention was immediately caught by Laird. She sucked in a tight breath, her stomach doing that strange flippy-thing and she risked a small smile in his direction. He smiled back and lifted his glass, but didn’t rush to join her. Slightly disappointed, she returned her attention to Emma, who was nervously fidgeting with her dress. “Can you tell this dress is way too tight? It fit a few weeks ago and now it’s like a second skin.”
“It looks fine. You’re the one drawing attent
ion to it.” Lana did a double-take at her sister and then frowned as she admitted, “Actually, now that you mention it, your boobs look bigger.”
Emma groaned. “I knew it! I feel stuffed into this dress like a pork sausage.”
Lana just laughed because there was nothing that could be done about it. Emma would just have to come to grips with the fact that she was going to balloon and because she was short, she’d end up looking like a bowling ball by the time the baby arrived. But seeing as Emma was struggling with a few things regarding her pregnancy, Lana kept her observation to herself. “So who are these people you needed a buffer from?” she asked discretely.
Emma stopped fidgeting and leaned in to whisper, “Ugh. The other Buchanans. Vince’s first cousins. Sutton, Reece and Whitney. Apparently, they always spend part of their Christmas on the west coast and there’s an open invitation to stay here because Lord knows we have the room, right?”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. So why don’t you like them?”
Emma squirmed. “It’s not that I don’t like them…I just feel…I don’t know inadequate around them. They’re all highly educated, rich beyond belief, and I don’t think Whitney likes me very much.”
“Well, she seems to like Vince well enough,” Lana observed, arching her brow at how Whitney seemed draped on her sister’s husband. “You said they were first cousins, right?”
“Yeah,” Emma said darkly, adjusting her dress one last time. “But I get the feeling that there might’ve been some kissing going on with that cousin.”
“So gross.”
“Tell me about it,” Emma agreed in a low tone. “Which would explain why she doesn’t like me very much.”
“Well, what happened as kids doesn’t have any bearing on what’s happening as adults. Just remember that. Besides, he married you and you’re carrying his baby so hold your head up high and put that bitch in her place.”
Emma shot Lana an impressed look before saying, “You are feeling your oats lately. I like it. Even if it does throw me a little.”
