Forever After (15 page)

At Seth's understanding nod--he still understood his own work far better than women--she went on.  "When I was working with Pops, I didn't have to pretend I was dumb, or wish I was taller and more filled out, or try to learn the art of flirting.  I could just be me.  All I wanted was to learn more about mechanics, become Pops' partner and maybe someday meet someone who could appreciate me and my talents."

She stopped for a breath then hurried on.  "Then I met Gary.  I fell head over heels because I was in love with the idea of being in love.  You know, the first time and all that.  The earth still didn't spin when he kissed me, but I thought that only happened in books and I'd take what I could get--a man who loved me for who and what I was.  At least that's what I thought.  It took me a while to realize Gary always wanted to be center stage, that appearances mattered to him, that he'd never want a grease monkey for a wife."

When Seth still didn't comment, she said, "Seth, he told me he didn't want children, he didn't want them tying him down while he established his career.  If he could use me like he did, if he could leave and not look back, what kind of father would he have been?  I don't know if I was right, but I did what I thought was best.  Gary never loved me.  I suspect that if I'd told him our birth control failed, he would've told me to get an abortion.  I never could have done that."

"When I told Pops I was pregnant, he was shocked, but there was never any doubt he'd stand behind me.  He assured me he had raised me, there was no reason the two of us couldn't raise my child.  Maybe if he hadn't been supportive, I might have turned to Gary.  But I doubt it.  I doubt it very much."

Seth mulled over everything she'd said.  She'd been young, afraid, betrayed.  How could he know how she'd felt?  He'd been fighting for fathers for so long, he'd forgotten there were usually two sides.

He leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers.  "Can you understand how Gary might have felt?"

Darcy scooted toward him, her robe riding up her thighs.  "I don't know what Gary felt.  I only knew I was pregnant and he never loved me.  I was scared, trying to get used to the responsibility of being a mother.  If the baby had been born, I might have notified Gary.  I don't know.  I simply don't know."

He stared at her.  There was the honesty again.  No pretense, no excuses, no lies.  "Why did the miscarriage happen?"

"The doctor said it was a fluke, just one of those things.  There's no reason it should happen again.  But I'm afraid of getting pregnant.  I can't begin to tell you how much it hurt to lose that baby.  I'll never forget the sense of loss.  If I hadn't had Pops to share it with, I don't know how I would have gotten through it."

The pain was still there in her eyes.  It gave her her compassion.  "I've seen how men and women react when they lose custody of their children.  To lose a child before it's born...I can only imagine how you felt."  He hurt for her.  She must feel as if a piece of her was lost forever.

"Can you understand why I didn't tell Gary?"

Seth felt the tension drain from him as he shifted toward her.  "I think so.  I don't agree, but I had no right to judge you.  We all do things we regret or want to change.  But we can't; we have to accept them."  Just as he had to accept last night and feelings that shook him.  He didn't know what they were.  He didn't know where to go with them.

Darcy reached out to touch him, but dropped her hand as if she'd thought about his reaction upstairs.

He tipped her chin up with his thumb.  "I'm sorry I said what I did.  I'm sorry I overreacted.  You have a right to your privacy, just as I have a right to mine."

She hesitated for a moment, then ran her tongue across her lower lip and said, "Last night was wonderful for me, Seth.  I never imagined I could feel like that."

Play it easy, Hallaran.  Don't let her know last night almost shattered you.  He smiled.  "Do you think you might want to do it again?"

His words must have given her the freedom to touch him because she stroked his jaw.  "Only if you're the one who does it with me."

Was that a pledge of some type?  Of course not.  She knew where he stood.  No commitment.  No ties.  The next time making love wouldn't be so overwhelming.  Making love.  He used to "share his body" or "have sex."  When had he reconsidered his terms?  A small voice answered, Last night.

Seth studied Darcy for a moment, desire and other less defined feelings spinning inside him until he couldn't tell one from the other.  Playfully, he scooped her onto his lap.  "Before we indulge in a repeat performance, I have to go to the drug store."  He speckled kisses down her neck.  "And they aren't open yet.  So...  I suggest we have breakfast and plan to rendezvous tonight.  Agreed?"

She laughed.  "A rendezvous, it is.  Would you like me to make dinner at your apartment?"

"Sure."  By tonight, he'd have sorted his feelings.  By tonight he'd be prepared.  By tonight, making love with Darcy would not be a world-shattering experience.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Darcy carried a bag of groceries and her overnight case up the steps to Seth's condo and unlocked the door.  He'd given her a spare key.  When she stepped into the foyer, the air conditioning wrapped around her.  She smiled.  This was going to be one perfect evening if a cool apartment, a gourmet meal, and a new negligee were any indication.

She unpacked the groceries and refamiliarized herself with Seth's kitchen.  She'd been in it a few times, but not in the practical sense of knowing where he kept pots and pans and cooking utensils.

Exploring each of the birch cabinets, she set out the cookware she'd use.  The large skillet looked as if it had never been used, nor had the saucepan.  She preheated the oven for baked potatoes, unwrapped the bacon and started it sizzling.  Coq au vin was one of her favorite entrees.  It was one of the few dishes that had received rave reviews from her brothers.

While the bacon cooked, she wrapped the potatoes and popped them in the oven.  She fried the chicken to a golden brown, crumbled bacon, added scraped carrots, onions, chicken broth and wine to the frying pan, and twisted the burner to simmer.  Covering the pan with a lid, she reached for the bag of peaches she'd purchased at a roadside stand.  After she peeled and arranged them in a glass casserole, she topped them with brown sugar, flour and oatmeal crumbs.  Snapping fresh green beans, she dumped them into a saucepan and covered them with water.  The salad took only a few minutes to prepare.

Until she cleaned up the kitchen, the buzzer on the stove rang.  She removed the peach dessert from the oven, sniffing and enjoying the mixture of smells wafting through the apartment.  After a last look to make sure everything was ready, she went into the dining room.  Seth's furniture was much more formal than hers.  His apartment could easily be pictured in House Beautiful.  There was only one problem--it didn't look lived in.

Darcy picked up the overnight case she'd plopped by the sofa and carried it toward the bathroom.  Succumbing to her curiosity, she peeped into the second bedroom Seth used as an office.  She'd never given it more than a cursory examination.  This was where Seth lived.  Rows of law books lined mahogany bookshelves.  Folders, typed papers, and scattered journals littered the massive desk.  A candy bar wrapper lay on the edge of the leather bound blotter and an open package of pretzels peeked out from under a stack of manila folders.

This room bared the side of Seth that was more relaxed, less organized, busy, vulnerable.  Reaching for the candy wrapper to toss it into the waste can, she inadvertently toppled the stack of folders.

She never meant to snoop.  She never meant to see correspondence meant for Seth.  But when she saw the last paragraph of the letter under the top folder, she froze.

"Have a good vacation.  When you get back in a few weeks, we'll discuss that opportunity I mentioned."

Darcy's gaze automatically found the date.  Last week.

Seth was planning on leaving soon.

Everything in her protested.  That wasn't what he'd said.  He'd said he didn't know if he was going back.  Unless...

He'd lied.  She was a vacation, an interlude while he dabbled in Hershey.  He was a user just like Gary, looking for an easy lay while he took a break from the regular grind.  She'd fallen for his lines.  She'd even recognized them as lines.  But she'd wanted to believe he cared about her, that he was coming to love her.

What a fool she'd been.  And not just once, but twice!  She'd thought four years had made her smarter.

She'd thought wrong.

Her only aim was to leave the apartment and find a refuge from the sense of betrayal.  Snatching a piece of paper from a note pad, she wrote,

I thought you were different.  I thought you were honest about what's happening between us.  But this letter proves I was wrong.  Now I see you planned to return to Philadelphia all along.  I don't want to see you again so don't phone or come to the house.  Darcy

Snatching up her note and the letter, she laid them on the kitchen table before she turned off the stove and left.

***

When Seth entered his apartment, the aroma from the kitchen made him smile and call out, "Darcy, it smells terrific."

He couldn't believe his anticipation all day.  He'd felt like a kid on Christmas Eve.  As much as he'd told himself tonight was nothing special, he didn't believe it.  Because Darcy was special.

He was puzzled when he found the kitchen empty.  Then he found her note.

Anger surged through him.  How dare she mess around in his office?  How dare she...

He reread her note, and this time her hurt and sense of betrayal leaped off the page.  Why hadn't he told her he was going back to Philadelphia for a few days?  Because he thought it wasn't important?  Because he was concerned about her reaction?  The reason didn't matter.  Not now.

He spun on his heels and hurried to his car.

Darkness had fallen by the time he pulled up in front of Darcy's house.  When he reached the front door, it was closed and locked.  He jabbed the bell twice and pounded a few times, but got no answer.  Checking the garage, he found her car locked inside.  A glance next door told him Marsha must not be home.  The house was dark.

Darcy had to be around somewhere, and he was going to see her if he had to beat down her door.  He tried to ignore the sense of panic gripping him and what it meant.  He strode to Darcy's back yard, hoping he'd find her there.

The yard was empty.  A book lay on the porch swing.  The back door was also closed.  Probably bolted too, he thought wryly.  Then he heard a noise.  It sounded like a small splash and he remembered Marsha's pool.

He couldn't see over the tall hedge.  He thought about calling out, but decided against it.  If he gave her a warning, she might run.

The grass muffled his footsteps as he rounded the hedge.  The pool was at the end of the yard.  He could see someone was in it; he couldn't tell in the shadows if that person was Darcy.  But who else would it be?  She'd once told him Marsha had given her free access to the pool and she often enjoyed it on hot, sultry nights when everyone else was asleep.

He approached slowly; he didn't want to startle her.  She didn't notice him.  Her head was bowed as she waved her arms gently around her.  When he took the first step on the redwood deck, she raised her head.

 Her voice was cool but he thought he heard a catch in it.  "I don't want to see you."

He climbed the remaining few steps.  "I want to talk to you."

"We don't have anything to talk about."

With her in the pool and him on the deck, with twilight falling around them, he felt too distanced from her.  He lifted her towel from the railing.  "Get out."

"No."

He didn't need a floodlight to see the flash of defiance in her eyes.  "If you don't come out, I'm coming in."

She sunk lower in the water as if it could protect her.  "You don't have a bathing suit."

His hands went to his belt buckle.  He'd get her to talk to him one way or another.  "I don't need one." 

He had his belt unfastened when she cried, "You wouldn't."

"Wanna bet?"

"Okay," she flared, standing up.  "The last thing I need is to see you naked."

He heard that last, almost unintelligent mumble and almost grinned.  But the situation was too serious.  He held the towel for her.

Her bikini hid nothing.  Although he'd seen her naked, the thin fabric clinging to her hips, molding to her breasts and nipples, caused a throbbing in his groin.  Just this morning, he'd thought he could brake the passion between them.  He'd been wrong.

He attempted to wrap the towel around her shoulders, but she moved away from him, not letting his fingers touch her skin.  She led him to the back porch, but didn't invite him inside.

He gestured to the porch swing.  "Can we sit?"

She gave him a troubled look and sat as close as she could to one of the arms.  He sighed and sat a few inches from her to give her the space she obviously needed.  "I am going back to Philadelphia."  Before she could hop up from the swing and lock herself inside the house, he hurried on.  "But only for a weekend.  I have some loose ends to tie up."