Nobody's Business (Nobody Romances) (16 page)

Ouch.

Wincing, he scanned the byline. Lorenzo Akers. Doug should
have known. Akers was the muckiest of the muckrakers. An oily
snake who played to the lowest common denominator. Without
reading it, Doug knew how the article would slant. Akers loved
to breathe life into nasty gossip and innuendo. If Lorenzo Akers
was indicative of the type of reporter Brooklyn Raine had come up against in the past, Doug couldn't blame her for shying away
from the press.

"You're not even listening to me, are you?" Ace's accusation brought him out of his reverie.

"Of course I am," he lied. "I'm just not heeding you. There's
a difference."

Ace yanked the cordless phone off the wall mount and turned
his back to keep it out of Doug's reach. "You know what? Fine.
Let's see how much access you'll get to her when she knows
who you are and how you came to be here."

Doug leveled a steely gaze at the kid. Time to lay down the
cards. "You're going to admit your culpability in that? And
Richie Armstrong's? Which do you think will hurt her more?
My intention to write a positive story about her and her program
or the betrayal of two men she's always considered friends?"

Ace's complexion turned candy apple red.

"Go to Canada, Ace," Doug ordered softly. "You've got a
competition to prepare for."

Lips drawn into a tight line, the kid shook his head. "I'm
not leaving as long as you plan to write this article."

"I'll tell you what. I'll let you read the article before I send
it to Jake. You can have first approval."

"Give Lyn first approval," Ace said. "Before you turn the
article over to Jake or anyone else at The Sportsman, let Lyn
read the article and give you her approval."

"Okay, fine. I'll let her read it first."

`And give her approval to the publication," Ace reminded
him.

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. Whatever you say."

"No, not whatever I say. I won't let you weasel out of this
later due to some stupid technicality you dreamed up. I want
you to repeat after me, `Before I allow The Sportsman to print
any information about Brooklyn Raine or Lyn Hill, I will tell
her personally who I am, what I've done, and allow her to
have final approval on the article.'"

Doug smirked. "Cute."

"Say it. "

"It's really not necessary-"

"Say it!" Ace's shout nearly rattled the windows.

"I've already said-"

"'Before I allow ...' Say it right now." Ace waved the
phone overhead as if he'd just discovered the Holy Grail. "Say
it, or I'll call her and tell her everything."

So Doug did.

For the first time in aeons, Lyn slept until late morning. When
she finally left her bedroom and hobbled into the dining room,
she found the sideboard already cleared, except for a beautiful
spray of a dozen bloodred roses interspersed with bright purple
irises in a cut crystal vase. The soft floral scent filled the air with
more appeal than her normal heated cider redolent of pungent
spices.

Near the glass and golden-oak hutch filled with bone china,
April sat at the head of the table. In her hand, she held a ceramic mug with the phrase BLACK DIAMONDS ARE A GIRL'S BEST
FRIEND in bold black script. She smiled over the rim and nodded toward the colorful bouquet. "Nice, aren't they?"

"Beautiful." She flashed a knowing grin. "What'd Jeff do or
say to compel such a grand gesture?"

"They're not from Jeff, and they're not for me. They're for
you. There's a card attached, if you care to look."

She stared at the arrangement again. For her? Who on
earth ... ?

Doug. Of course. They were for her. From Doug.

Turning the vase, she found the small yellow envelope sticking out from the plastic spear sign holder among the blooms.

With the unopened card in hand, Lyn limped toward the
spindled first mate's chair to April's right.

"Should you be up and walking around?" April asked with
all the authority of an older sister.

"Don't fuss." She waved a hand in dismissal, and the envelope crackled in the air. "Besides, you know I can't lie in bed
all day."

"Yeah." April grinned. "The bane of lazy days, the Raine
work ethic. Do you think our great-great-grandmother was one
of those women who gave birth and went back to plowing
the fields an hour later?"

"Probably." Easing her aching muscles into the chair, she
attempted a smile but wound up grimacing when the pain
sprayed across her back yet again.

"How's the hip?"

"Stiff. But I'll live. What's for breakfast?"

April pushed back her chair and rose. "I'll tell Gerta you're
awake and hungry. She made pumpkin pancakes today. Even
drew jack-o'-lantern faces on Michael's using chocolate chips.
God, I love that woman! If you ever decide to fire her, let me
know first, okay? I'd hire her for Rainey-Day-Wife in a heartbeat." She bent close, pushed the hair from Lyn's cheek, and
peered at her, maternal concern crinkling her forehead. "You
okay?"

Lyn nodded. "Just coming out of the painkiller fog."

"Hang tight. I'll get you a cup of coffee, and Gerta will bring
you breakfast. Then we'll force-feed you another pain pill, and
you'll be foggy all over again. So enjoy clarity while you can."
She disappeared into the kitchen.

Clarity. Yeah, right. Lyn sat with her elbows on the tabletop, her head cradled between her hands, and the envelope
lying before her. Curiosity burned, but cotton had replaced the
brain in her skull. Her eyes were still too blurry to read so much
as the florist's name and address.

April was right about one thing. Coffee would definitely
help.

"Here we go." Sure enough, April came back with two mugs
full of caffeinated comfort. "Skim milk, no sugar for me." She
winked. "I've got a wedding dress to fit into."

Lyn reached for the second mug.

"Half-and-half for you, right?" April tenderly took Lyn's
hand and placed the mug inside her curled fingers. "Got it?"

Lyn nodded. "You should have been a nurse."

"I'm a professional mom. Plays into the job description."

April sat beside her again. For several minutes, neither spoke as each sipped and allowed the brew to jolt them into
the day.

After a while, the silence of the house permeated Lyn's fuzzy
head. "Where is everybody?"

"Jeff took the kids to the mountain for the day so you and I
could have some `alone time.'"

Lyn quirked a brow. "And why exactly do we need `alone
time'?"

Under Lyn's scrutiny, April's gaze focused on the words emblazoned on her mug while her fingertips toyed with the curved
handle. "That depends on you."

Uh-oh. April's sudden aversion to looking her in the eye
didn't bode well. "C'mon, April. Speak up. Gimme the details. What's planned for me today that I'm not going to
like?"

"Well..." She sipped the coffee, smiled again at Lyn over
the rim. "I figure we can either call Summer to ask for her
help with my wedding . . ."

"Or ... ?" Lyn waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Or we could talk about your date last night."

Ka-thump.

April's eyes brightened as she fidgeted in the captain's chair,
clutching the armrests as if to keep from leaping into the air.
"Who was that guy? And why didn't you tell me you were dating again? Not that I'm not thrilled. Believe me, I am. It's long
past time you put away the grieving widow routine. And this
Doug guy's adorable. In a big, bad lion-with-a-thorn-in-hispaw kinda way. Did you meet him at Ski-Hab? How'd he lose
his arm? Did you see his prosthesis? It's totally realistic. You
could barely tell it was fake. He says it has fingerprints and
everything."

Lyn rubbed the pads of her fingertips over her closed eyelids and sighed. "April. You're rambling."

A flaw only Jeff found endearing. For everyone not currently engaged to April, including Lyn, her runaway mouth
had the same effect as nails on a chalkboard. Particularly when
she honed in on a topic no one else wanted to discuss. Like
Douglas Sawyer.

"Oops." April slapped four fingers over her mouth. "Sorry.
I guess I'm nervous about calling Summer."

"Why? I'd imagine she'd be thrilled to help you. This is
right up her alley: planning, organizing, bossing you around."
Lyn laughed, but April didn't join in.

"Let's get back to your date," April said with a feral grin. "I
see you haven't opened your card yet."

Amusement fled abruptly, and Lyn frowned. "I'm not ready."

"What's to be ready for? It's a card. And I'm dying to see
what it says"

Another sigh escaped Lyn's lips. "You have no boundaries,
do you?"

"Oooooh. Testy, huh? That means this is more than just a
date for you. It's a relationship."

"It's not a relationship. For heaven's sake, we just met two
days ago. And how would you know what my testiness means?
If I was, in fact, testy?"

"Trust me. You're testy. And I know what that means, thanks
to Jeff."

She briefly closed her eyes so April wouldn't notice her pupils rolling into the back of her head. "Just because you're marrying a psychologist does not make you an expert on people."

"That's not what I meant."

Sarcasm slipped out easier than a third sigh. "Do tell, oh
wise and gifted one."

"Okay, I will. You really like this guy. And that scares the
bejesus out of you"

"Nope."

"Liar." The accusation slipped between them easier than a
dryer sheet under a door. "You can't fool me, Lyn. I've been
there. When I first started falling for Jeff, the idea scared me
stupid."

"I'm not-"

"Yeah, you are. Scared stupid. Just like me. For different
reasons, but the reaction's the same. See, I kept thinking about
my first marriage. All the times Peter cheated on me and A,
did I want to go through that agony again and B, what if he cheated because I was boring? How long would it be before
Jeff found me boring?"

"I am not boring."

"Yeah, you are," April repeated with a toothy grin. "But
that's beside the point. Those were my issues. Your issues are
different."

Lyn folded her arms over her chest and glared. "So what
are my issues, Dr. April?"

April shrugged. "Only you know for sure, but I bet one of
them is, `What if I fall head over heels for this guy and he
leaves me? Like Marc did."'

"Marc didn't leave me."

April's features softened, as did her tone. "Yeah, sweetie. He
did. I admit, it wasn't his choice. But he left you. And then you
left you. You holed yourself up in this inn and built a wall
around your heart. But now, this Doug guy's climbing over your
wall. And you're scared stupid."

And April came waaaaay too close to the truth for Lyn to
continue this discussion. "You know what? If I want analysis,
I'll talk to Jeff."

For the first time since she'd arrived at the inn, April frowned.
"Please don't. He's a stickler for patient confidentiality, so if you
talk to him, I'll never find out if I'm right."

"Does it matter? Even if you're wrong, you won't admit it."

"But I'm right, aren't I? You met two days ago. You shared an
intimate dinner last night. He sent you that gorgeous gaggle of
flowers this morning. And you haven't even looked at the card
because you're `not ready.' That means this guy's pretty special
to you."

"In the first place, I'm not ready because I'm still too blearyeyed to focus. Second, our so-called `intimate dinner' was soup
and a sandwich, for heaven's sake. Practically lunch."

"Uh-huh. And Friday night?"

Lyn sipped her coffee. "There is no Friday night. "

"There most definitely will be a Friday night."

"Twenty minutes ago, you had me confined to bed"

"Until you reminded me you don't like to sit still." April pointed her teaspoon like a proctor's baton. "This is life, Lyn.
Welcome back, we've missed you. The thing is, you don't just
take a chance when you play Monopoly, kiddo. You've got to
seize the joy out of every moment, suck life dry. Life's been
sucking you dry for too long. So if you're not confined to bed,
you're going out with Doug. Besides"-she beamed brighter
than afternoon sun on pristine snow-"I already promised I'd
drive you there."

April was so revved up, she wouldn't listen, no matter how
logical the argument. Okay, so if she wouldn't listen to Lyn,
maybe she'd listen to someone else.

"I think," Lyn said slowly, "it's time to call Summer."

The good thing about going anywhere with Jeff was that he
didn't expect Becky to stay with her little brother all day. In
fact, after two runs when they first arrived, he cut her loose. As
long as she met them for lunch at the lodge at one, she had
free access to the mountain without Michael as her constant
companion. Thank God. She couldn't exactly talk to guys with
the twerp around.

Becky wasn't looking for a long-term relationship, or even a
romance. She just wanted to hook up with a hot guy for the
week. Someone to take a few runs with, to share some laughs
and make this week bearable. Most of all, someone who'd look
really good in the photos she'd take. So her friends wouldn't
pity her for missing winter break in Cancun, thanks to this
family trip.