Bursting With Love (11 page)

TWO HOURS LATER, Jack carried several green Hefty bags full of Linda’s clothes out of the house and dropped them on the front porch. He circled back up the stairs and stood in the middle of the master bedroom. The mattress lay bare as bones, stripped of its sheets and comforter; the empty dresser drawers hung open and cockeyed. The closet doors were open wide, exposing the first space he’d conquered. He wiped his face with the crook of his elbow and drew in a loud breath. His eyes burned from the tears that had already fallen, and as he left the room and approached the other door off of the hall, he thought he didn’t have any tears left to shed.

He grabbed the knob and turned it slowly. His arms would not fling the door open. No matter how hard he tried, his muscles fought against his mind. The veins in his forearms snaked beneath his skin, thick and blue. He groaned and turned away, burying his hand in his hair and bending over as he spat, “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Several fast breaths later, he turned and faced the door again. He couldn’t bring himself to turn the doorknob. He clenched his fists and raised his powerful leg. One fierce kick broke the door free from its hinges, splintering around the lock. The next sent it slamming to the floor. Jack stormed into the room, his eyes locked on the crib beneath the window. He hulked across the floor and gripped the railing, fresh tears streaming down his face. He dropped his eyes to the stuffed elephant in the corner of the crib and reached for it, then brought it to his chest as he lowered himself into the rocking chair in the corner of the room, clutching the stuffed toy as the memories rushed in again.
Let’s get the nursery ready just to get in the mind-set of having a baby around. I’ll buy baby clothes and everything.
She’d been so excited the month they’d put together the nursery.
He’ll have your eyes, Jack. And your height. I hope he has your height.
He brought the elephant to his face and pressed it against his cheek.
What if it’s a girl? She’ll be as beautiful as you,
he’d said to Linda.
Let’s start trying Monday. It’s the first of the month. A great time to start! Oh, Jack, I’m so excited
. Linda was a planner, always had been. The idea of trying to get pregnant and having a “start” date fit right into her organized and efficient lifestyle. Neither of them could have known that she wouldn’t make it through the weekend. He crushed the elephant between both hands and allowed his body to feel every soulful tear, every wrench of his heart, every kick in the gut of saying goodbye to the child they’d never even had the chance to try to conceive.

A STREAK OF light sliced through the window and moved slowly across the hardwood floor of the nursery. Jack’s tears had dried hours ago, but he hadn’t been able to move from his perch in the rocker. His throat was dry, and his chest ached. He rose to his feet, moving slowly as he opened the closet doors. He took the baby clothes from the hangers carefully, folding each little outfit and placing it inside the crib; then he took that pile of unworn clothes and moved robotically down the stairs, feeling defeated and relieved at once.
It’s time
.
I’ve hidden long enough
.

With the baby clothes packed neatly in a grocery bag, he set them on the front porch. He locked the door, then leaned against it and slid down to the floor, contemplating his next move. He’d been thinking about it all afternoon. There was only one thing he could do with Linda’s clothes, and it would require reaching out and mending a fence. He needed to call Linda’s sister, Elise, and give her Linda’s clothes, and the idea of making the call seemed impossible.

The baby clothes could go to Goodwill, but Linda’s clothes should go to her family.
I’m her family. Was. I
was
her family
. Jack didn’t want to keep any of Linda’s clothes. As much as it felt like he was ripping out a part of his soul, each time he thought of Savannah, he felt a rush of hope, and that hope stirred his heart in a different way—a better way. He no longer wanted to hold on to the past. Those few days he’d spent with Savannah had reminded him of how it felt not to be consumed with anger and guilt, and more important, for a few intimate moments, the loneliness that had consumed him day in and day out had fallen away. He hadn’t realized how dark his life had become until Savannah, and all her stubbornness and all her beauty, barged in and lit up his world. He was ready to move forward.

SAVANNAH WAS GLAD to be back at work Tuesday morning. She’d stayed up most of the night before thinking about Jack. She’d tossed and turned all night, wishing she could see him—even though she knew she probably shouldn’t.
Why is he consuming my every thought?
Now she threw herself into the work that had piled up while she was gone.

She hung up the phone with a client and weeded through the stack of messages on her desk.
How will I ever get through these?
She prioritized them into separate stacks: clients whose lives would turn inside out if she didn’t call them back immediately, clients who only
thought
their lives would turn upside down, and people who might one day become clients. The remaining two stacks consisted of other legal shit she had to take care of and…Connor Dean. Not only had he filled her voicemail and sent her too many text messages to count, but he’d also left seven messages with her assistant, Catherine. She couldn’t fathom why he was trying to get in touch with her at all. She’d already severed their working relationship and handed his files off to another attorney. His window of apology should have ended a year ago.
Damn it
. She had hoped that when she didn’t return his calls, he’d get the message and leave her alone, but now it looked as though he’d continue to hound her if she didn’t reiterate that it was over. As she picked up her cell to return his call, a knock sounded at her door; then the door flew open.

“Hey there, girlfriend. Lookie, lookie.” Her associate, Aida Strong, came through the door carrying a large bouquet of roses. She was almost as tall as Savannah, with the same slim hips and long legs. Against Aida’s fitted white skirt and blouse, the red roses looked even more vibrant.

Savannah’s pulse sped up as she came around the desk. “Who sent them?”
Jack? Maybe he’s not such a Neanderthal after all.

“I didn’t read the card.” Aida tucked her long, straight blond hair behind her ear and set the vase on Savannah’s desk. “Catherine said they just came, and I was coming in anyway, so I snagged them. They’re gorgeous.” She handed Savannah the envelope that came with the flowers.

Savannah read the card and then tore it in half and tossed it in the trash can. “You know what? I’m gonna ask Catherine to bring them down to the mailroom staff. They’ll enjoy them.”

Aida arched a brow. “Connor?”

Savannah sighed. “Unfortunately. I’m going to call him right now and tell him to bug off.”

Aida cringed. “I’m sorry. How was your weekend? Is that guy as handsome as he looks on the website?”

Savannah sighed. “Jack Remington is even hotter than he appears.”
And even more sensual and the best kisser ever and…broken. Jack Remington is broken
.

“Yeah? Why am I getting a sex vibe here?” Aida smirked. “I knew I should have gone along as a chaperone. Tell me what I missed.”

Aida and Savannah had started with the law firm within a month of each other five years earlier and had become close friends overnight. Aida was as snarky as Savannah was tough, and in the male-dominated legal entertainment business, they needed all the support they could get.

Savannah’s cell phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. “It’s Josh. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but I’m taking these. Don’t waste them on the mailroom staff.” Aida took the flowers and winked on her way out the door.

Savannah answered the call. “How’s my best-dressed big brother?” Josh was one of New York’s leading fashion designers, and as such, he was always impeccably dressed.

“I’m well, Savannah. I heard you were back in town. How was your survivor weekend? Will you be hitting the reality network next week?”

“Not a chance in hell, although I really enjoyed it. It was nice to get away from the city, and other than a freaking bobcat, it was actually pretty fun.” She could almost feel Jack’s body pressed against her back again, as it had been that night. She shook her head to get out from under the memory.

“A bobcat, Van?” Josh had recently gotten engaged to his childhood crush, Riley Banks, and now they were full business partners at JRB Designs. Ever since the engagement, Josh had been reaching out to Savannah more often. They both lived in Manhattan, but before Riley had come into his life, Josh had kept to himself. Savannah was glad for the change, and she enjoyed seeing him.

“Just a little one. It scared the shit out of me, but Jack scared it away. How’s Riley?”

“Amazing, as always.”

Savannah sat on the edge of her desk. “Why does everyone have an amazing love life but me?”

“Still bummed about Connor?” Josh asked.

“I can’t even believe I stayed with him as long as I did. Why didn’t you guys knock some sense into me?” Savannah stood and paced, rubbing an ache at the base of her neck. She hadn’t told her brothers about Connor cheating on her, and she wasn’t going to go down that road now. She’d like to forget Connor ever existed.

“Like you would have listened?”

You know me too well
. “Okay, enough about
him
. What else is going on?”

“Kaylie’s singing at a concert in Central Park tonight. Blake and Danica are going to be there, and Ri and I thought you might want to join us.” Kaylie was Danica’s sister.

“Kaylie’s singing again?” Kaylie had given up her singing career when she had twins a few years earlier. Savannah toyed with the idea of going to the concert. She had nothing else planned, and the idea of sitting around her apartment thinking of Jack was torture.

“I think she’s testing the waters. Blake said they were coming along to support her because this is her first big event since she had Trevor and Lexi. I think it’ll be fun. We can hang and talk, maybe go for a drink.”

Savannah did want to pick Danica’s brain about her apparent inability to date men without baggage. “Sure, what time? I have a lot of stuff to catch up on here.”

“Eight?”

“I think I can make that. I’ll meet you at the bridge.”

Savannah ended the call, and before she could get interrupted, she called Connor.

“Hey, Savannah. I was beginning to think you’d dropped off the face of the earth.”

Despite loathing how he’d treated her and the way he’d disregarded her feelings and disrespected her, she felt a spear of lust shoot right through her at the sound of Connor’s smooth, sensual voice. She cleared her throat and put her hand on her hip, steeling herself against his seductive ways.

“Nope. I’m still around, but, Connor, I’m not sure why you’re still calling me. We broke up, remember?” She couldn’t believe she was even wasting her breath on him.

“Hell, Savannah. That was nothing. Mimi’s just a friend.”

She could hear the smile in his voice, and it infuriated her. “Just a friend. That’s supposed to make it better? Connor, do you even hear yourself?”

“Babe, calm down.”

“Didn’t you ever take Dating 101? You never tell a woman to calm down. I’m done, Connor. I’ve wasted enough breath on you. Please don’t contact me again.” She ended the call with a shaking hand. Clapping noises came from behind her, and she spun around, ready to tell someone off. Her eldest brother, Treat, filled the doorframe, dressed in a dark suit and tie, his thick black hair perfectly coiffed and a proud smile on his lips.

“Bravo.” Treat wrapped his arms around Savannah. At six foot six, he towered over her.

She hugged him halfheartedly and stepped away, still agitated from talking to Connor. “What are you doing here?”

“Business meeting. I’m flying back home at six.” Treat and his wife, Max, lived in Weston on the property adjacent to their father’s.

“I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Dad said you were a little miffed at me.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure I want to be on the other end of your wrath after witnessing you taking down Connor Dean. Be gentle.”

She pushed him playfully as he lowered himself into a chair. “You checked up on Jack Remington?”

Treat didn’t even flinch. “Of course.”

“What do you mean,
of course
? Treat, I’m thirty-four years old. I think I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt of that,” he said. Treat crossed his legs and reached one thick arm over the back of the chair beside him. “Vanny, why are you so angry?”

“Because.”
Connor’s an ass, and I really like Jack and I got hurt again
. “I just don’t see why you’re always following up on what I’m doing. It’s…invasive.”

“Invasive.” He met her serious gaze with his own.

“Yes and embarrassing. Demeaning.”

“Demeaning? Really?”

“Treat, stop it. You know what I mean. I’m an adult, and you’re checking up on me makes me feel like a child.” She paced in front of the windows, not even sure herself where she was going with the conversation or why she was saying these things.

“Savannah, I didn’t check up on you. I checked up on him. You’re my sister. My attractive, well-off sister, and there are a lot of creeps out there. I’m just protecting you.” Treat stood and came to her side. “What’s going on? What’s changed?”

She leaned against the windowsill and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Treat, my life is such a fucking mess. I know you meant well, but Jack’s a nice guy, really.”

“Yes, I know.”

She looked up at him. “You know? I thought you just checked up on him, you know, his background, not if he’s a nice guy or not.”

“I did.” He leaned on the windowsill beside Savannah. “It turns out that his brother Rush is a competitive skier, so I called Blake. He knows Rush well, and…” He shrugged. “Jack’s a good guy. He was even awarded a Congressional Medal of Honor when he was in the Special Forces.”

“Of course he was.” Savannah sighed. “And Connor’s the hottest country singer around.”

“Vanny, what’s the parallel? Clue me in.”

Savannah pressed her lips into a tight line and narrowed her eyes, then shook her head, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from filling with tears.

“Oh, Savannah. You and Jack?” He laughed.

She swatted his arm. “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not. I just should have known. You’re the most bullheaded, competitive woman I know, and from what Blake said, Jack’s as stubborn as a mule. Of course you were attracted to each other.” He clapped his hands together. “Tell me what I can do? I assume from your pout that it was a tryst gone bad?”

“I don’t know what it was, but I know that I can’t get him out of my head,” Savannah admitted.

He looked into Savannah’s eyes with a serious face. “Then you know about his wife?” Treat spoke with the same paternal tone her father did.

She lowered her eyes. “Yeah. Just that she died. I don’t know how or any of that, and I know that the last thing I need is a guy who’s still living with the ghost of his dead wife. But, Treat, why can’t I get him out of my head? I mean, with most guys, I’m strong. I make them work to date me. Well, maybe not Connor. God only knows how messed up I am to have let him mess with my head for so long. But you know me. I’m not a pushover, and from the minute I saw Jack, I was….” She covered her face with her hands again and shook her head with a groan. “He’s this weird dichotomy of hard-ass and tenderness, and it’s frustrating and scary, and I don’t know if I should run away or run toward him.”

“You know when I met Max she was the same way.” His voice softened. “She wore a coat of armor so thick, I never thought I’d break through. But in those moments when we were close, I saw hints of her softness, and I knew I had to try.” Treat looked away, as if he were watching a memory unfold.

“I’m not sure it’s the same as the harshness that he has. He lost his wife, and I think he feels like he doesn’t deserve to be happy or something.”

Treat took her hand in his. “Savannah, pain comes from all different sources. We build up walls that seem like they’ll protect us, and we stay behind them, safe from the world. Or from our fears, or whatever shit we have going through our minds. And then someone comes along that causes a tiny crack in the wall, and suddenly there’s a stream of light breaking through. Pain is pain. It doesn’t matter where it comes from. It all hurts. And until the right person’s light shines through, there’s no impetus for change.” He placed his arm over her shoulder.

“So then what? We just never change?”

 “Then we hide in our hole some more. But when the right person breaks through, anything is possible.”

“You could make dog poop sound romantic.” She rested her head against him.

“Blaming yourself for your spouse’s death is a big hurt, Savannah. He probably needs time.” Treat put his arm around her shoulder as she sat up.

Blaming yourself?
“What do you mean,
blaming yourself
?”

“I thought you knew. According to Rush, Jack blames himself for his wife’s death. Apparently, there was a storm. He’d just come back from an extended tour and was exhausted. He let her go out in the car alone, and shortly after she left, the storm picked up and…”

“And that’s when the accident happened. Jesus, no wonder he’s haunted.” Savannah remembered the anguish she’d seen in his eyes when he told her that he wasn’t sure if he could move beyond his past.

“It’s worse than that, Vanny. He’s the one who found her.”

“Oh, God, Treat. That’s awful.” She ached for what Jack must be living with every moment of every day.

“How much do you like this guy, Savannah?”

“I don’t know. A lot,” she said honestly.

“Well, then, all I can do is support whatever you want to do. It seems like he’s a good man with really shitty luck. So you tell me, what can I do to help you? Do you want me to talk you out of thinking about him?” He spoke with a serious tone, but Savannah recognized the tease in the way his eyes lit up.

“You know I won’t listen,” she admitted. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not contacting him and he hasn’t contacted me, so this whole thing will blow over and I’ll be left nursing another broken heart. I’m getting pretty good at that.”

Treat stood and pulled her into his arms. She relaxed against him, needing the security of his strength. It forced her to admit the thought she hadn’t wanted to breathe life into.

“This broken heart feels a hell of a lot different from any other I’ve ever had.”