“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Em.”
Something passed between them. She had felt this same connection with Em the night on the porch. A kindred spirit, a female connectedness. Maybe it was just that they were both pregnant, but it seemed like more than that. She sensed Em felt it, too.
Em nodded. “I’ll see you soon.” But her gaze said more. It said, I’m here for you. You’re not alone.
Lindsey turned. She was on the verge of tears and took a slow breath to settle her nerves. Kate had run over and was sitting on Zoe’s lap, but Jenna, Ben, Clay, and Nick were still chatting by the entrance. Lindsey ducked her head and tried to pass by unnoticed. But Jenna stopped her.
“Lindsey, this is my husband, Ben, and our friends Clay Stevens and Nick Kincade.”
Lindsey nodded to the men.
Jenna narrowed her gaze. “Are you leaving so soon?”
“Yes, it’s been a long day.” She didn’t dare meet Nick’s gaze.
“Your car is at the house,” Nick said, cutting in with a disapproving air.
“I’m going to walk home,” she answered, still not meeting his gaze.
Nick crossed his arms. “Would you guys mind telling Michael and Em congratulations for me, and that I’ll catch up with them later on tonight? I need to check on something at the carriage house. I can walk Lindsey back.”
That got her attention. “I’m fine on my own.”
“I have to go that way. It’s no trouble,” Nick countered.
Lindsey caught the little glance Jenna shared with her husband. Everyone in this town seemed to sense she and Nick had something strained between them.
“All right,” Lindsey agreed, trying not to make a scene.
What was Nick doing, anyway? He was the one who walked out. Granted, he’d just learned of her pregnancy in the worst way possible. But he had made his feelings known, loud and clear.
Twilight had melted into a moonless evening as he followed her out of Park Tavern. It reminded her of their night walks together through Camp Clem. He was so much bigger than she was, but their bodies always moved together in a seamless harmony. After a few paces, her chest tightened with emotion. Their steps still fit together. She wanted to alter her gait, take a misstep, anything that would tell her the opposite of what her heart knew to be true—Nick Kincade would always be the one for her, even if they couldn’t be together.
They had only gone half a block when a couple emerged from a bookstore. Lindsey caught a glimpse of the women, and a strange spark of recognition passed through her. She stopped and turned just as the woman did the same.
“Miss Lindsey,” the woman asked. “Is that you?”
15
Nick would have known these two people anywhere.
The woman clutched the arm of the man at her side. “Oh my gosh, Rory! I knew it!”
“Rachel?” Lindsey asked. Nick heard the tenderness in her voice.
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Rachel cried. Her gaze bounced from Nick to Lindsey. “I knew you two would end up together. Didn’t I, Rory? I always told Rory, if any two people were perfect for each other, it was Miss Lindsey and Mr. Nick.”
“You did, babe,” he said, smiling down at Rachel. He extended his hand to Nick. “It’s good to see you. I hope I can just call you Nick.”
Nick shook his hand. “Absolutely!”
“It’s so good to see you, Mr. Nick,” Rachel said, pushing up on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek. She stood back and opened her arms. “Miss Lindsey!”
The women embraced.
Lindsey wiped a tear from her cheek. “You’re all grown up.”
“You are, too,” Rachel said, eyes shining with emotion.
“Are you two visiting Langley Park?” Rory asked.
“No,” Nick answered stealing a quick glance at Lindsey. “We just moved here permanently.”
Rachel shook her head. “Of course, you guys live here now that we’ve moved to San Francisco.”
“Our flight back leaves in a few hours. Rachel just got a position as COO for a big up-and-coming tech company,” Rory said, beaming at Rachel. “Rachel’s parents are watching our boys. This is our last night in Langley Park.”
“Boys,” Lindsey said. “Congratulations!”
“Twins,” Rory said. “Eighteen months old. We’re flying by the seat of our pants, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
“It’s all thanks to you two, Nick and Lindsey,” Rachel said.
Rory wrapped his arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “Yeah, just watching the two of you made us understand what it meant to care for someone. Rach and I have been together ever since that summer at Camp Clem.”
Nick stole a glance at Lindsey. She was smiling, but it wasn’t her real smile.
Rachel and Rory didn’t seem to notice.
“The camp closed a few years ago. Such a shame,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “Someone bought it, but last I heard, they’re not doing anything with it. They did put in a runway. Isn’t that odd?”
“A runway?” Nick cut in. “For a plane?”
“Yeah,” Rory answered. “We flew into the Ozarks last summer and saw it when we passed over the camp.”
“Speaking of camp,” Rachel said, “guess who we ran into in San Francisco?”
“Who?” Lindsey asked.
“Meg and Trevor. Remember them?”
Nick glanced at Lindsey. Her real smile was back. “Oh, yeah, Lindsey and I remember Meg and Trevor.”
Rachel clapped her hands. “They’re married and living outside the city. Trevor’s a motivational speaker and—”
“Hold on,” Nick said, sharing another side glance with Lindsey. She was biting back a laugh. “Trevor, the same Trevor who slept in Sawyer Cabin with us at Camp Clem? He’s a motivational speaker?”
“Yeah,” Rory answered. “I guess he’s a pretty good one, too.”
“We’re meeting them for dinner next week,” Rachel added.
“Wow, that’s great! You’ll have to tell them hello for us,” Lindsey said, barely keeping her voice steady.
The campers must have never caught on that Meg and Trevor were stoned ninety percent of the time. He was surprised Meg and Trevor even recognized Rachel and Rory, let alone remembered them.
Nick copied Lindsey and bit down on his lip. He had only heard Trevor speak a full sentence on their last day of camp. To think of him addressing crowds of people was just too funny.
Rachel’s phone pinged. “Darn it! That’s my mom and dad. We better get back and pick up the twins, Ror.”
“It’s so good to see you both,” Lindsey said, embracing Rachel and then Rory.
“It is,” Nick said, hugging Rachel and slapping Rory on the shoulder.
They parted ways, Rory and Rachel heading west on Bellflower Street as he and Lindsey headed east. After half a block, Lindsey stopped, held onto a bench, and bent over.
He crouched down next to her. “Linds, are you in pain?”
Lindsey shook her head and burst into laughter. “Trevor is a motivational speaker.”
Her laughter was contagious, and he joined in. “I’d have to see it to believe it.”
“Me, too,” she replied. Her giggles subsided, and her expression grew thoughtful. “I’m glad we ran into Rachel and Rory. I’d always hoped they’d end up together.”
Nick nodded. “They were good kids. It looks like they’ve turned into good adults.”
“We should probably get going,” Lindsey said.
“Yeah,” Nick agreed, falling into step beside her.
“You know they thought we were…” Lindsey didn’t finish the sentence.
His chest tightened. “I know.”
If life were perfect, if happy endings truly existed, he and Lindsey would be together. But it’s not. Life is messy and tangled and complicated.
Complicated.
That was the word Lindsey used when he had demanded an explanation.
They walked in silence the rest of
the way home which was a godsend. Nick bristled, but it wasn’t from the cool night air. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? He loved her. He always would. Except, they could never be together.
He had barely been able to focus on anything that week. Everything from his job to his damn temporary home reminded him of her.
This week had been hell. They had celebrated Artie’s retirement Tuesday night. By Wednesday, Nick was in charge of the downtown airport. They’d had an emergency landing that morning after one of the flight training planes experienced a hydraulics malfunction, and he had gotten an earful from a group of self-righteous medical professionals who had to endure a whopping ten-minute departure delay due to the emergency.
He glanced at Lindsey. She seemed lost in thought, eyes trained forward. His gaze slid down to her abdomen. She was pregnant. His gut gave a sick twist. Was he mad she was pregnant or was he upset that the baby growing inside her wasn’t his? He released a frustrated breath.
Her house came into view, and Nick wracked his brain. What was he supposed to say to her? But Lindsey broke the silence.
“What’s that?” she asked in a frightened whisper.
Nick tensed and looked from side to side. “Did you see someone?”
“No, on my porch. There’s a package.”
He squinted his eyes. In the dim glow of the porch light, he could make out a box sitting propped up against the front door.
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Lindsey was shaking. Her hand gripped his forearm and squeezed.
“I don’t understand what the problem is, Lindsey. It probably got delivered today. Did you order something?”
She met his gaze with wide, terrified eyes. “I have a post office box. Nobody’s supposed to know my mailing address.”
“Why do you need a post office box?”
She shook her head like she had done when he questioned her about her past. Had she not been so frightened, he might have laughed. He’d spent the majority of his career flying for UPS. Packages, like the one on Lindsey’s doorstep, had been a daily part of his life for years.
“Come on,” he said, resting his hand over where she was clutching his arm. “We’ll look together. It may be a package that was delivered to the wrong address. Em and Michael order things all the time. It could be for them.”
Lindsey’s trembling grip relaxed a fraction.
They ascended the steps and stopped. There weren’t any postage markings on the package. No return address. And an envelope was taped to the top of the box.
Lindsey’s grip tightened, and she let out a shaky breath. “I did everything right, Nick. I did everything they told me to do. They said I’d be safe. Only Rosemary knows, and she would never tell anyone.”
Lindsey wasn’t making any sense, and her tone was growing more hysterical by the second.
He took her hand into his. “Slow down, Linds. I’m going to open the envelope.”
She turned her head from side to side like she was expecting somebody to jump out of the bushes.
“Lindsey,” he said, cupping her face. “I’m going to open the envelope. Let’s see if there’s a note or something inside before you get upset.”
She blinked, and her eyes focused on his. In the porch light, they called to him, blue-green like a turbulent sea desperate for peace. He bent down and plucked the envelope off the box. There was a white folded sheet of paper inside. He pulled it out and unfolded it. Fisher Designs was printed at the top of the page along with the address of his friend, Ben Fisher’s architecture firm. He scanned the page and released a relieved breath.
“It’s a note from your godmother, Linds.” He held out the paper. “See, she used the stationary from the office she works at.”
Lindsey stared at the paper for a beat. “She found some things I left at her house back when I’d spent the summer with her.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah, that’s all it is, Linds.”
She reached into her purse, pulled out a set of keys, but her trembling hands dropped them on the porch.
Nick scooped them up. “Let me help.”
He unlocked the door, picked up the package, and followed her inside. She made her way into the kitchen. Her movements were slow and dreamy as if she wasn’t sure this was all real. She filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove.
Jesus! What just happened?
She was terrified of something or someone—he knew that for sure.
“Lindsey, sit,” he said, pressing a hand to her back and guiding her over to the kitchen table. “I’ll take care of this.”
She nodded, almost childlike in her compliance, and sat at the table.
He went to the pantry to look for the tea and honey when he heard her draw in a sharp breath.
He spun around, ready to react. Her panicked state had left him all keyed up. But all he saw was the opened box, and Lindsey holding a red, plaid piece of fabric. It was a long sleeved flannel shirt. She ran her fingers down the cotton fabric, following the line of buttons, then looked up and met his gaze. In her eyes, he saw her wearing that flannel shirt. His flannel shirt. He’d draped it over her shoulders on their first night of patrol at Camp Clemens. The mosquitos had been attacking her, and she had brushed and slapped at her skin.
They bite you because you’re so sweet.
That’s what he’d said to her. The memory passed through him like a ghost.
He tugged at the sleeve. “You kept it.”
“Rosemary kept it,” she said, staring at the buttons.
He dropped the flannel. “What else is in there?”
A surprised look crossed her face as if she hadn’t even thought there would be more. She pushed back the box flaps, reached inside, and pulled out a handful of photographs and a few letters.
The color had returned to her cheeks. “I guess I took a lot of pictures that summer.”
Black and white photographs of the Langley Park Botanic Gardens and shots of the town center littered the table.
“You could say that,” Nick said, fingering the edge of a picture of the Langley Park fire station.
“Do you remember this?” Lindsey held up a picture of Langley Park’s tattered flag with the embroidered sunflowers.
A smile pulled at his lips. “How could I forget?”
“I wonder if they still have it? It was barely more than a rag sixteen years ago.”
“They do,” he answered. “It’s framed and hanging inside the Langley Park Community Center.” The sight of it had stopped him in his tracks the first time he’d gone there to workout.
Lindsey pulled out another photo, but this one wasn’t black and white. It was an old, Polaroid picture. She traced its edges with her fingertip. It was the photo they’d taken after winning the capture the flag championship game. Like a moment trapped in time, the campers were cheering, mouths open in mid-whoop, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders while he and Lindsey smiled, gazes locked on each other.
“That was a good day,” he said, voice tight.
But he wasn’t thinking about capture the flag.
He was thinking about their night in the boathouse. He sat down in the chair next to her and leaned in to take a closer look. He inhaled her heady scent of sweet cream and summer rain, and images of her wrists, slight and delicate, twisted and tangled in the rope as he buried himself deep inside of her flashed through his mind. Her lips, her breasts, the feel of her breath against his neck. He remembered everything. Each kiss. Each caress. Each thrust of his cock. Her memory lived in every cell of his body.
She set the picture down and fingered an envelope. It was crinkled and creased like it had been balled up and smoothed out repeatedly. Yellowed with age, but unmistakable with her name written in his hand.
He rested his hand on top of hers. “I know what you must have thought when you read that. It killed me to know Mrs. Quigley was probably going to find that letter in my camp binder and give it to you.”
She looked away, but her fing
ers shifted like her body couldn’t help but lace them with his. Her body remembered his, too.
“What was I supposed to think?”
“I never got to finish the letter. I fell asleep on the damn bus.”
She met his gaze. “What would it have said if you had gotten to finish it?”
He stared into those blue-green eyes and tightened his grip on her hand. He couldn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips and then another.
“Lindsey,” he whispered between kisses.
It was all he could say. He knew he couldn’t have her, but his heart wanted her. For sixteen long years, he had starved it. Kept it cut off from any real nourishment. He’d known love—her love. From that moment on, his heart knew it was that real love or nothing. There had been placeholders—women he had slept with, women he’d been fond of, even cared about. But he never loved any of them.
Lindsey sighed as he ran the tip of his tongue across the gentle arc of her lip. He weaved his hand into her hair and pulled her in closer. In the space of a breath, she was straddling him. His hands clenched around her ass while her arms wrapped around his neck. She rocked into him, grinding down, and his cock came to life. He dug his fingertips into the soft flesh and guided her up and down. They dry-humped like teenagers, and her breath, ragged and laced with sweet moans and soft gasps, kicked his desire into overdrive.
He kept one hand clenched around her ass as the other moved to her breast. Through the thin fabric of her blouse and bra, her body responded. He drew his thumb and index finger around the pearl of her breast’s tight peak, and she took his bottom lip between her teeth. It was the perfect combination of pleasure and pain, and his hips bucked to increase the friction between their bodies.
“Jesus, this is so fucking right,” he said, massaging her breast.
She unbuttoned his pants just as the high-pitched whistle of the kettle tore through the room. It might as well have been a freight train, loud and monstrous, barreling down the track. Lindsey broke their kiss and stared down at the space between them. His hands shifted. He had clasped her waist, and his thumbs made tiny circles against her abdomen where…
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 66
