Dreams Don't Wait (Contemporary romance) (5 page)

"Oh-huh. So you like Jenny. And?"

She sighed. He wasn't going to let it go. "Okay. I admit to being shocked when you allowed her to crawl over the back of the seat into the next booth."

"She was restless. Jenny gets like that."

"You ordered three different pizzas just for her, Linc. One—the first one she ordered—should have been enough."

"She's young. She has trouble making up her mind. How in hell is a four-year-old going to know she doesn't like pineapple?" He sounded defensive.

"You might have stopped her from complaining long and loud enough to disrupt the whole restaurant, and besides, she didn't have to eat the pineapple. And—"
Enough said
.

"
And?
" His blue eyes locked on hers.

Cursing her big mouth, she lifted her eyes to his and steeled herself. "She was... bratty. I didn't see any of that behavior today—when you weren't around. It's as if the child knows she can get away with anything as long as Daddy's there."

"She's high-spirited and—"

"Jenny's restless, young, high-spirited. Yes, she's all those things, but she's also a little girl. You're the adult. If you choose to let her run over you like a pint-sized steamroller, that's your business. I'm merely suggesting she needs a firmer hand."

"Yeah, that's what her mother said," he drawled, his voice hard and low. "Before she backhanded her across the room. And here I always thought women were the gentler, more loving sex."

Evan looked at him in stunned disbelief. "Jenny's mother abused her?"

He moved away from the door and went to lean on the balcony rail, hands wide apart, head hanging low between his broad shoulders. "She didn't get the chance. That blow was the first and the last. Fortunately for Jenny, her mother wasn't around much. Moira preferred high living to her daughter's company. Mostly, Jenny was in the care of, as her mother put it, 'cool, objective professionals.' " He stopped talking suddenly and looked at her. She'd come up beside him and was also leaning against the rail.

He went on. "The funny thing is, I was the one who insisted Moira stay home more, make a real home for Jenny. I thought it would be better for Jen. Wrong. Moira wasn't cut out for motherhood. Oh, she made a stab at it for a while, but it was clear, damn fast, she didn't have the temperament for it. Apparently, she had loftier goals." He almost snorted this last comment before continuing. "The day she hit Jenny was the day we left. I didn't expect a custody battle, and Moira didn't disappoint me. A fat check took care of everything. That was two years ago."

"I'm sorry," Evan said, not knowing what else to say.

Linc straightened, gave her a sharp look. "Don't be. It was the best decision I ever made, and long overdue. I don't want your sympathy. I want your understanding—for Jenny's sake. What she needs is love, attention. What she doesn't need is another
firm hand.
Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly."
And he had but...
Her doubt must have shown on her face.

"But you don't agree with me?" His expression hardened.

"It's not up to me to agree or disagree. I've raised Cal my way. You're entitled to raise Jenny any way you see fit. It's not my place to interfere."

"Good. I'm glad you see it my way."

"Can I say one more thing?"

He eyed her warily before giving a crisp nod.

"Like I said, I won't interfere, but I think being permissive with a child can be damaging, too. A firm hand can be loving as well as harsh." As if to prove her point, she touched his hand briefly. "But thank you for telling me about Jenny."

* * *

Once in his bedroom, Linc headed directly for the shower. He was tense, frustrated, and angry. Who the hell did she think she was anyway? Miss Evangeline North. When he wanted her opinion, he'd ask for it. And she damn well better live up to her promise not to interfere. There'd been enough cold-hearted women in Jenny's young life—and his. She didn't need another. And he damn sure didn't.

He stopped mid-stride on the way to the bathroom. Hard to think of Evan as cold-hearted.

Her brief empathetic touch wasn't cold. Those marvelous green eyes weren't cold. They were warm and, except when she was looking at him, filled with laughter. Her smile was warm, even when she smiled at him, which was rare. He liked her smile. Damned if he didn't like the whole woman. Tough, honest, with a breezy friendliness at odds with her stubborn jaw and steely determination. She'd wanted to walk out on him this afternoon. He was sure of it. But she'd wanted that hellish cabin even more. One thing was certain: women always wanted something. The trick was to figure out what.

He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on top of the laundry hamper in the bathroom; jeans followed, then briefs. Naked, he turned on the shower and stepped in. Arms wide, he braced himself against the shower wall and let the water pound over the tight muscles in his back. He closed his eyes and thought about Evan's firm but loving hand.

He swore. Right now any loving hand would do. He was as horny as a kenneled stud. Disgusted with himself, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. He was barely dry before he pulled back the sheets and stretched himself across the bed. He leaned over to turn out the light and, in the enfolding blackness, rested one arm across his forehead.

He didn't like talking about Moira. Hell, he didn't like
thinking
about the conniving bitch, but it was necessary. Evan needed to know for Jenny's sake. He remembered the way she'd cocked her head to listen, the intensity of her gaze, how she'd tapped her chin, then shook her head. If he didn't know better, he'd think she cared.

With an abrupt movement, he got up and walked over to the highboy near the window. He rifled through the top drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He took one out and headed for the outdoor balcony, then stopped. He was naked, and Evan was in the next room. Their balconies adjoined. He pulled on some jeans, lit his second cigarette of the day, and stepped out the French doors.

The moon, poised over the water, looked like an antique coin, full and mysteriously shadowed. A ribbon of yellow glowed over the silent but rippling ocean. The night was pure sapphire, clear and bright. Linc rubbed the back of his neck. God, he hoped it wasn't going to be another night spent staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He took a long pull on his cigarette, exhaled, and watched the small curl of smoke obscure the moon.

"Those things will kill you." It was Evan. She'd stepped onto the balcony from her room. She wore a long, soft robe. Green. Linc liked green.

"So they say." He took another drag, then flicked the cigarette off the balcony.

She shook her head, smiled at him. "Not content with lung disease, the man now tries to set his house on fire." Running her hands along the balcony rail, she lifted her head to look at the moon. "It's an amazing night, isn't it?" She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at him directly. "I've never been anywhere this beautiful, you know."

He studied her. She was being far too nice for someone he'd argued with less than an hour ago.

"Where have you been?" He was curious. More so than he expected to be.

"The prairies mostly—that's where I was born—then west to Vancouver. That's about it. Not exactly a world traveler."

"What brought you to Victoria?"

"First off, a job—the company I worked for in Vancouver opened an office here a few months ago. They asked me to transfer, and I jumped at it. And the University. U Vic has a solid reputation. I think Cal will like it there." She took a deep breath. Her next words were for herself more than him. "Everything's going to be perfect, absolutely perfect."

Linc stared at her. If hope and optimism were to be found in a bottle, she'd been drinking it. "Perfection can be elusive," he said.

She stopped, obviously flustered. "Sorry. I get carried away at times. Must be the full moon. I should go in now."

Yeah, full moons. A guy could blame a lot on the full moon. Like his taking a step toward her and lifting her chin. He wanted a clear view of those wide, green eyes. "I hope it all works out for you, Evangeline North. I do." And while that full moon had riled up his body and filled his head with the idea of kissing her—
really kissing her
—he didn't. Instead, he planted an uncle-like kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair.

She shivered. The cool air or his touch?

"You're right, " he said. "You'd better go in."

She nodded, and without a word, walked into her room and closed the door behind her.

Linc let out a long-held breath, went to the phone, and called Natalie. He made a date for the following evening and spent the rest of the night regretting it.

* * *

The next morning, Maud made a huge Sunday breakfast. Cal devoured a half-dozen pancakes in less time than it took to make them. Linc sat at the head of the table with his head buried in the Sunday paper. He'd barely said a word since they'd sat down.

"That was great, Maud. Super great." Cal finally pushed himself away from the table. "I'm stuffed. Totally."

"Thank you. I'm glad you liked it." Maud poured herself coffee and sat down. When Cal started to gather up the dishes, she protested. "You don't need to do that, son. I'll have this coffee and get to it later."

Cal looked at his mother.

"Whatever you think is right, Cal," was all she said.

He looked back at Maud and grinned. "That means she'll pull out all my fingernails if I don't help out."

"Well, we don't want that. How about stacking them near the dishwasher then?" Maud said.

"How about I put them
in
the dishwasher? That way I get points in the big computer in the sky. Right, Mom?"

"Right," she agreed, restraining a laugh. When he was six years old, she'd told him there was a big computer in the sky that kept his good and bad accounts, giving points for each. He'd never forgotten it.

"Me, too. I can do dishes." Jenny hopped down from her chair and followed Cal to the sink.

"Good idea, twerp. After last night you could use a few points—like maybe a billion."

Linc looked over the top of the paper, first at Cal, then Evan. He seemed defensive, then uncertain as his eyes fell on Jenny's bright face turned adoringly toward Cal. Evan couldn't stop her mouth from twisting into a smile. Linc was so unrelentingly sober.

Even his unexpected kiss, so carefully placed on her forehead last night, had a certain gravity to it, as though he took his kisses as seriously as he took everything else in life. When she started to wonder why, she tried to turn her mind from him. She didn't succeed. His kiss may have been grave, but the scent of him, the nearness of him when he'd touched her, had kept her awake most of the night.

"I'm going to get a whole million," Jenny announced, before going back to the table for more dishes.

"Good, then maybe we can go out for pizza again," Cal added. "Say in the year twenty-fifty."

Linc studied Cal, and Evan coughed into her napkin to suppress a giggle. "Maybe after you've finished," she said to Cal. "We can go down to the cabin. There must be something we can do there. Clean it out at least." She drank the last of her coffee and stood.

"I'd rather you didn't." Linc snapped the paper closed and stood beside her. "It's not safe enough. The floor is no better than wet cardboard."

"I at least have to get clothes. I have to work tomorrow. I'll need some things."

"Leave Cal with Jenny and Maud. I'll give you a hand."

"There's no need, really. I can manage."

"No doubt," he said. "But I want to have another look at the place. See what repairs are needed." He slapped the paper on the table beside his plate and walked to the door.

Maud glanced at her and shrugged. Evan hesitated, not sure why, then followed Linc out the door.

They walked to the cabin through a fine August rain.

* * *

"Why didn't you check the cabin out before you moved in?" he asked her. "You'd have saved yourself a major headache."

"You bought the place and you didn't look at it, either." She reminded him.

"My excuse was being a few thousand miles away. What's yours?"

"The magic word
free
."

"Once again proving the old adage—you get what you pay for."

She shrugged. "It'll work out."

When they got to the cabin, Linc looked westward. "Feel like a walk on the beach before we enter Hell's portal?"

This was probably not a good idea. Particularly after last night, a night she'd spent thinking about Linc's lips on her forehead, his hand stroking her hair. Yes. A walk on the beach was definitely a wrong-headed move. "Sure," she said. "It's a perfect day for it."

They walked for a few minutes in silence, just the breeze in the trees and the lapping of water against the shore as background music. They reached a small cliff with a huge rock at its base and stopped

Evan clambered up the rock and sat on its flat peak. Pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, she stared out at the ocean.

Linc followed her gaze, but she got the sense it wasn't the ocean he was thinking about. If she knew him better, she'd offer him the standard penny fee for his thoughts. But she didn't know him and was comfortable enough in the silence to wait him out. It didn't take long.