Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2 (28 page)

“Put it on the back burner, ladies,” Maddie said. “TJ’s friends will start arriving soon and I need help setting up in the barn. We can butt into Sean’s love life later.”

***

TJ’s birthday guests arrived, and the afternoon flew. Maddie directed the festivities with all the efficiency and confidence of the seasoned kindergarten teacher she was. After cake and ice cream--two different types because when Brenna discovered Dante offered to be in charge of the cake she insisted on baking one of her own--TJ opened his presents, and then the kids had a free-for-all, running and playing in and out of the barn, and making great use of the jungle gym, swings, slide, sandbox, and tree house Caleb had constructed in the field behind the house and barn. Pirate and Belle chased the kids and each other, barking and racing around the field in full-throttled canine glee.

Rebecca leaned against the back of the barn at the edge of the field and watched the kids swinging and climbing, sliding and jumping, their shouts and laughter echoing through the hills. The scents of fresh spring mingled with the fading odors of grilled burgers and hot dogs, and the mountain breezes blew cool air through the chaos.

“Auntie Becca, watch me!” TJ hollered. He pumped his legs, forcing the swing higher and higher, and then jumped off, flying through the air as if shot from a cannon. He landed and rolled in the grass and then stood up, arms in the air, and let out a whoop before racing back to the swing to do it again.

“He scares me when he does that.” Maddie stood beside Rebecca. “Caleb’s always telling me to lighten up and let him be a boy, but I worry he’s going to hurt himself.”

“He probably will.” Rebecca smiled. “And then he won’t do it again. He’ll move on to something else that scares you more.”

“Sweet Lord, don’t tell me that.” Maddie’s eyes shone with emotion, but her lips curved in a smile. “I don’t want him to be hurt ever.”

“You’re a great mom.”

Maddie’s smile became luminous. “I want to be, more than anything. I’ll try to be. Of course, I’m not his mother yet, not technically.”

“Soon. Only three months away.”

“It’s going to fly, I know, but right now it feels like it’s going at a snail’s pace. Speaking of the wedding, have you been to the gazebo today? You should take a walk back there. Edie’s outdone herself with the landscaping, and she’s not done yet. It’s going to be like a fairy kingdom when she’s through. The only thing missing right now is the fireflies, but they’ll be out in full force by June.”

“I’ll head back there now and have a look.”

Maddie rested her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder, and her soft brown eyes with their golden flecks radiated concern. “You feeling okay? You seemed fine until after we served cake, and then you kind of quieted down.”

“I ate too much.” Rebecca patted her stomach. “I had a slice of Dante’s Italian crème cake, so of course Brenna insisted I compare it to her chocolate Devil’s Delight. Too much sugar, and I’m feeling a little green, if you want to know the truth.”

Maddie laughed. “Understood. I told Brenna we didn’t need a second cake, but she can’t pass up a competition, especially with Dante. They both outdid themselves, though, didn’t they? Dante’s in the shape of a baseball, Brenna’s shaped like a football. Those two are crazy.” Maddie shook her head. “You go on and visit the gazebo. It’ll be quiet back there, you can sit and enjoy the nice weather without all the commotion.”

Rebecca took Maddie’s advice and wandered away from the chaos, down the dirt path that led to the gazebo Caleb had built for Maddie last fall. He’d had help, building in secret while Brenna and other friends kept Maddie busy on the weekends, and of course Rebecca and others from Walker & Son had volunteered their time and talents to get the job done in record time. Landscapers had laid flagstone walkways and benches designed to appear as natural outcroppings, and the overall effect embodied pure enchantment.

She gasped when the path opened up to the clearing in the woods where the gazebo sat. She hadn’t seen it since its completion in the fall. The creek that ran behind it rushed heavy from winter melting and spring rains, and she recognized wisteria and privet, and butterfly bushes. Edie’s fine instincts for landscape had already created a design that, somehow, appeared random and natural. A fairy kingdom, Maddie had called it, and Rebecca thought the description to be true.

She strolled along the curving flagstone pathways and sat by the creek for a time, lost in the gurgle of the water over rocks and fallen limbs. The water would be cold this early in the season, and she opted against dipping her hands in. She breathed deep and let the ambience of the place soothe her. She closed her eyes to enjoy it fully--the sounds, the rushing hush of the water, small animals moving in the trees, and the dappling of sunshine through new leaves and swaying branches overhead.

She thought of Sean, wondered when the deep ache would subside. She knew it would lessen with time, but today it bled raw. She hated herself for being needy. She’d avoided him to keep her misery at a minimum, had laughed with Nate, Cal, and Dante, but steered clear of Sean with as much nonchalance as she could manage. He must know her elusive tactics were deliberate, but she hoped no one else picked up on it.

The nausea from her overindulgence of cake rolled through her and she grimaced, hoping she didn’t have the beginnings of the stomach virus that had taken her construction crew by storm in the last week. Men being men, she had heard about the nasty symptoms in all their disgusting glory. The last thing she needed was to miss days of work when she was pushing her father to choose an office manager from the pool of candidates she had provided. At this point, every day counted if she intended to meet her goal of being self-employed by the first week of April.

The nausea passed and she stood. She’d best head back to the house before someone sent a search party after her. She took to the flagstone path with a purposeful gait, but the gazebo looked inviting, so she sidetracked to walk up the steps she had helped to build, and stood in the center of the structure, turning a full circle to admire the workmanship. Cal had done a beautiful job with the gingerbread corner pieces, and the scent of cedar filled her nostrils, overpowering all the other odors in Maddie’s fairy kingdom until a gust of wind blew through and jumbled the scents into a sensuous potpourri.

Belle and Pirate burst onto the tranquil scene like a pair of furry tornados, running and barking, announcing their presence to the environment until their noses twitched and their curiosity overtook their desire to play. Pirate’s immediate ambition turned to peeing on everything in sight, while Belle trotted through bushes and plants with all the delicacy of the rhinoceros Rebecca had earlier accused her of being.

She heard Sean before she saw him, calling to Belle and Pirate. The latter ignored him, but Belle’s adoration for her new master resulted in the demolishing of a fresh flower bed as the canine female stumbled over her own monstrous paws in an effort to obey. She found her footing and took off like a shot, topsoil erupting in her wake. She slammed into Sean as he reached the mouth of the clearing.

“Jesus, Belle.” He stumbled back and the dog planted her paws on his chest, her tongue a blur against his jaw. “Okay, okay.” He chuckled and gave her ribs an affectionate thumping, then eased her down and commanded her to sit while lifting up on her collar and pushing down on her tail end at the same time. She sat for a nanosecond, then dropped and rolled onto her back pawing the air. Her eyes regarded Sean with powerful adulation. He sighed and shook his head.

“You’re a mess,” he told her. “Go play. Go on.”

The dog jumped up and darted off, tail wagging with joy. Sean glanced around, saw the ruined flower bed and muttered, “Oh, I’m going to be in so much trouble,” then continued perusing his mother’s landscape handiwork as he neared the gazebo. With no way out, Rebecca held her ground.

Sean’s gaze connected with Rebecca’s on his way up the steps. She noted a surprised widening of his eyes, but he mastered his expression and offered a quick smile.

“Good hiding place.”

“Your mom did a beautiful job, and I understand she’s nowhere near done yet.”

“She’s never done. It’s her passion.”

Rebecca nodded. “It shows.”

She made an effort to look away, but his eyes, the blue almost purple in the dimming light of deepening day, held her captive until she admitted she didn’t want to look at anything else. If this was all she could have of him...well, fool that she was, she’d take it.

“The only thing missing is Maddie’s fireflies.” Though she aimed for nonchalance, the words eked through her lips with a huskiness she couldn’t control.

His smile faded and he stepped closer, stopping a scant few inches away from her and, still, she held her ground. His eyes dropped to her mouth, then lower to the pulse in her throat that beat at a staccato pace, and back to her mouth before lifting again to her eyes. Heat flickered to life between them and her body throbbed. She breathed in his spicy scent, so faint as to be almost indiscernible, and noted the pale freckles which she adored over the bridge of his nose. She yearned to lay her hand against his jaw, feel the stubble against her palm.

“Rebecca.” Her name scraped from his throat, raw with emotion or lust. She wished the former but suspected the latter, though it made no difference because either way she was lost.

They came together as they had the first time in his office, mouths desperate and passion high, hands seeking and finding, touching, bodies straining, aching to be closer than clothes allowed. She’d have crawled under his skin if she could and, when his mouth moved from her lips to taste the skin of her throat, her trembling knees threatened to betray her and send her to the planked floor, but his arms held her tight against him, thigh to thigh, hearts pounding together. She knew as long as she held on she’d be safe. He’d never let her fall.

Except she wasn’t, and he would.

He already had.

“No.” Rebecca pushed away, staggered back several steps when Sean released her. “No,” she repeated, her breathing labored. His face blurred when her eyes welled, and she shook her head. “I--I can’t do this,” she said, and, hating herself for being a coward, she ran down the stairs and up the flagstone walkway, disappearing on the path that led back to the house.

Chapter 14

Sometime after dawn, Rebecca threw up until her stomach had nothing left, and then she suffered the dry heaves for another thirty minutes after that. Curled in the fetal position, she battled nausea and prayed for relief.

It also stung, knowing that unless she’d picked up the flu, this was her own damned fault.

After her embarrassing and melodramatic exit from the gazebo, she’d returned to the house, grabbed her purse, and spent a few minutes in the bathroom fixing her face and talking herself down off the ledge. The devil on her shoulder berated her for running away from an opportunity--Sean had made it clear he still thought her good for something, even if that something was only sex--and the angel on her other shoulder congratulated her for taking a big step toward personal recovery. Neither angel would shut up, so she silenced them both with a couple shots of tequila and another margarita. At some point, Nate had bundled her into his truck and taken her home, where he’d insisted on helping her into the house. She had a vague recollection of seeing the dark sedan in its spot across the street, but at that point she was half-asleep, so who knew? After she promised Nate she was fine and just needed rest, he left her fully clothed on the bed with Amelia curled around her head.

Sleep brought with it weird dreams woven into her psyche. She stumbled to the bathroom in the early post-dawn hours when her rumbling stomach reached a fevered pitch and demanded to be emptied yet again.

Now it was noon on Sunday, and she still didn’t feel human. She’d turned off her phone after the fourth call--first her mother, then Caleb, then Nate, then her Grampa Boone with gruff advice to “have a little hair of the dog that bit ya,” the thought of which made her queasy all over again. She’d have to call all of them, she knew, to thank them for their concern and assure them she felt fine, just embarrassed that she overindulged--or succumbed to the flu--at the birthday party of her six-year-old nephew. She imagined her mother making excuses for her, saying to Edie, “Well, every family has their problem child, you know? I guess Rebecca is ours.”

Way to impress the mother of the man you’re in love with, she thought now, and groaned into her pillow.

Bam-bam-bam.

The pounding at the door reverberated through her skull and threatened to make it explode. Someone, she decided, was about to die a horrible death, either herself when her skull shattered or the person knocking.

She would have stomped down the hall, but her head hurt too much, so instead she padded with care and yanked open the door with no concern for how she looked or who she might find on the other side.

Maddie and Brenna stared at her for a second and then plowed past her, both with their hands full. Maddie carried coffees in a cardboard carrier, and Brenna had bags bearing the logo of the Lump & Grind. Rebecca followed them into the kitchen, her brows drawn in a permanent scowl.

“Sit,” Brenna commanded, pointing to the kitchen table. Maddie led Rebecca to the table and pushed her into a chair. “You need caffeine,” Brenna said, while Maddie handed her a large coffee, “and carbs.” She paused while Maddie slid one of Greta’s cinnamon buns on a plate and set it in front of Rebecca. “And protein.” Brenna opened a carryout container with steaming scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage. “You look like you’ve already puked up a lung, so food is going to do you good.”

“The smell is nauseating.”

“Tiny bites,” Maddie suggested. She pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled. “That always helps me.”

Rebecca pushed the food away, rested her elbows on the table, and held her head in her hands. Did she have a stomach virus? Did the tequila just disagree with her? Doing shots had seemed like such a good idea last night.