This Heart of Mine (25 page)
Read This Heart of Mine Online
Authors: Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary
He cocked his head, all pretense of indifference gone.
"They hated letting you play football. They were so terrified that you'd get hurt. But I held them to their promise, and they never tried to stop you." She could no longer meet his eyes. "All I had to do was give them one thing in exchange…"
She heard him move closer, and she looked up to see him step into a narrow shaft of sunlight.
"What was that?"
She could hear in his voice that he already knew. "I had to agree never to see you."
She couldn't look at him, and she bit her lip. "Open adoption didn't exist then, or if it did, I didn't know about it. They explained to me how easily confused children can get, and I believed them. They agreed to tell you who your birth mother was as soon as you were old enough to understand, and they sent me a hundred pictures over the years, but I could never visit you. As long as Maida and John were alive, you were to have just one mother."
"You broke your promise once." His lips barely moved. "When I was sixteen."
"It was an accident." She wandered toward a boulder protruding from the sandy soil. "When you started playing high school football, I realized I finally had a chance to see you without breaking my promise. I started flying into Grand Rapids on Fridays to watch the games. I'd strip off my makeup and wrap this old scarf around my head, put on nondescript clothes so no one would recognize me. Then I'd sit in the visitors' stands. I had this little pair of opera glasses I'd train on you for the whole game. I lived for the times you'd take off your helmet. You'll never know how much I grew to hate that thing."
The day was warm, but she felt chilled, and she rubbed her arms. "Everything went fine until you were a junior. It was the last game of the season, and I knew it would be nearly a year before I could see you again. I convinced myself there wouldn't be any harm in driving by the house."
"I was mowing the grass in the front yard."
She nodded. "It was one of those Indian summer days, and you were sweaty, just like you are now. I was so busy looking at you that I didn't see your neighbor's car parked on the street."
"You scraped the side."
"And you came running over to help." She hugged herself. "When you realized who I was, you looked at me like you hated me."
"I couldn't believe it was you."
"Maida never confronted me about it, so I knew you hadn't told them." She tried to read his expression, but he wasn't giving anything away. He nudged aside a fallen branch with the toe of his running shoe.
"She died a year ago. Why did you wait until now to tell me all this?"
She stared at him and shook her head. "How many times did I call and try to talk to you? You refused, Kevin. Every time."
He gazed at her. "They should have told me they wouldn't let you see me."
"Did you ever ask them about it?"
He shrugged, and she knew he hadn't.
"I think John might have said something, but Maida would never have allowed it. We talked about it over the phone. You have to remember that she was older than all your friends' mothers, and she knew she wasn't one of those fun moms every kid wants. It made her insecure. Besides, you were a headstrong kid. Do you really think you'd have shrugged it off and gone about your business if you'd known how much I wanted to see you?"
"I'd have been on the first bus to L.A.," he said flatly.
"And that would have broken her heart."
She waited, hoping he'd come nearer. She fantasized that he'd let her put her arms around him and all the lost years would vanish. Instead, he bent to pick up one of the pinecones lying on the ground.
"We had a TV in the basement. I went down there every week to watch your show. I always turned the volume low, but they knew what I was doing. They never said a word about it."
"I don't suppose they would have."
He rubbed his thumb over the scales. His hostility was gone, but not his tension, and she knew the reunion she'd dreamed of wasn't going to happen.
"So what am I supposed to do about all this now?"
The fact that he had to ask the question showed that he wasn't ready to give her anything. She couldn't touch him, couldn't tell him she'd loved him from the moment of his birth and had never stopped. Instead, she only said, "I guess that'll be up to you."
He nodded slowly, then dropped the pinecone. "Now that you've told me, are you going to leave?"
Neither his expression nor his tone gave her a cue how he wanted her to respond, and she wouldn't ask. "I'm going to finish planting the annuals I bought. A few more days."
It was a lame excuse, but he nodded and turned toward the path. "I need to take a shower."
He hadn't ordered her to leave. He hadn't told her this had come too late. She decided it was enough for now.
Kevin found Molly perched in her favorite spot, the glider on the back porch of the cottage, a notebook on her thighs. It hurt too much to think about Lilly's earthshaking revelations, so he stood in the doorway gazing at Molly instead. She must not have heard him come in because she didn't look up. On the other hand, he'd been acting like such a jerk there was a good chance she was ignoring him, but how was he supposed to behave when Molly kept hatching up all these zany adventures without a clue how being near her affected him?
Did she think it was easy watching her splash around in that skimpy one-piece black bathing suit he'd had to buy her to replace the red one? Did she ever once glance down to see what happened to her breasts when she got
cold
? The legs of the suit were cut so high they practically begged him to slip his hands underneath so he could cup those round little cheeks. And she had the gall to be mad at him because he'd been ignoring her! Didn't she understand he couldn't ignore her?
He wanted to push aside the notebook she was writing in, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her straight to the bedroom. Instead, he headed for the bathroom and filled the tub with very cold water, once again cursing the lack of a shower. He washed himself quickly and slipped into clean clothes. All week he'd been driving himself, but it hadn't done a damn bit of good. Despite the carpentry and painting, despite the daily workouts and the miles he'd added to his run, he wanted her more than ever. Even the game films he'd started watching on the TV in the office couldn't hold his attention. He should have moved back into the B&B, but Lilly was there.
A stab of pain shot through him. He couldn't think about her now. Maybe he'd drive into town for another workout in the tiny health club at the inn.
But no, he found himself moving toward the porch, all his vows to stay away from Molly evaporating. As he stepped through the doorway, he realized he was in the only place he could possibly be right now, in the presence of the only person who might understand his confusion over what had just happened.
She gazed up at him, her eyes full of that generous concern she showed for anyone she thought might have a problem. He couldn't spot even a hint of censure toward him for being so surly, although he knew she'd get around to putting him in his place sooner or later.
"Is everything all right?"
He shrugged, not giving away a thing. "We talked."
But she wasn't impressed by his tough-guy act. "Were you your normal repugnant self?"
"I listened to her, if that's what you mean." He knew exactly what she meant, but he wanted her to pull the story out of him. Maybe because he didn't know what she'd find when she did.
She waited.
He wandered toward the screen. The plant she'd hung from a hook brushed against his shoulder. "She told me some things… I don't know… It wasn't exactly the way I thought."
"What way was it?" she asked quietly.
So he told her. Leaving out how muddled his feelings were. Just giving her the facts.
When he was done, she nodded slowly. "I see."
If only he did.
"Now you have to adjust to knowing that what you believed about her wasn't true."
"I thinks she wants…" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "She wants something from me. I can't—" He whirled on her. "Am I supposed to feel this sudden attachment to her? Because I don't!"
Her expression flickered with something that looked almost like pain, and it took her a long time to answer.
"I doubt she expects that right away. Maybe you could start just by getting to know her. She makes quilts, and she's an amazing artist. But she doesn't know that about herself."
"I guess." He jerked his hands from his pockets and did exactly what he'd been trying to avoid since last Friday. "I'm going stir-crazy. There's this place about twenty miles away. Let's get out of here."
He saw right away that she was going to refuse, and he didn't blame her. At the same time he couldn't be alone now, so he whipped the notebook off her lap and pulled her to her feet. "You'll like it."
An hour later the two of them were soaring over the Au Sable River in a sleek little German-built glider.
Chapter 18
Sexual daydreams and fantasies are normal. They're even a healthy way to pass time while you're waiting for the right person to come along.
"My Secret Sex Life"
for Chik
"It's nice that Kevin finally decided to spend some time with you. Maybe he'll agree to marriage counseling." Amy finished putting the strawberry jam cake on a Wedgwood plate and regarded Molly with her familiar pitying expression.
"We don't need marriage counseling," Kevin snapped as he came through the door with Marmie padding at his feet. They'd just gotten back from their gliding adventure, and his hair was windblown. "What we need is that cake. It's five o'clock, and the guests are waiting for tea."
Amy moved reluctantly toward the door. "Maybe if you'd both pray…"
"The cake!" Kevin growled.
Amy gave Molly a look that indicated she'd done her best but that Molly was hopelessly doomed to life without sex. Then she disappeared.
"You're right," he said. "That kid
is
irritating. I
should
have given you a hickey."
This was a topic Molly definitely didn't want to discuss, and she focused all her attention on arranging the tea tray. She hadn't had time to change out of her rumpled clothes or straighten her own windblown hair, but she forced herself not to fidget as Kevin took a few steps closer.
"In case you were worried, Daph… My ears have just about recovered from that scream."
"You were heading right for the trees. And I didn't scream." She picked up the tray and shoved it at him. "I squeaked."
"One hell of a squeak. And we weren't anyplace near the trees."
"I believe that our female guests are anxiously awaiting you."
He grimaced and disappeared with Marmie.
She smiled. She shouldn't have been surprised that Kevin was an experienced glider pilot, although she wished he'd mentioned it
before
they'd taken off. Despite their afternoon together, things weren't much better between them. He hadn't said a word about his interviews that morning, and she couldn't bring herself to ask. He'd also been strangely jumpy. Once she'd accidentally bumped into him, and he'd sprung away as if she'd burned him. If he hadn't wanted her with him, why had he invited her?
She knew the answer. After his confrontation with Lilly, he hadn't wanted to be alone.
The woman who was causing his turmoil slipped into the kitchen through the back door. Uncertainty was written all over her face, and Molly's heart went out to her. During the drive back to the campground, she'd brought up Lilly's name, but Kevin had changed the subject.
She remembered what he'd said earlier at the cottage.
Am I supposed to feel this sudden attachment to her? Because I don't
! It had been a pointed reminder that Kevin didn't like close attachments. She'd begun to realize how skillful he was at keeping people away. Oddly enough, Liam Jenner, for all his obsession with privacy, was less an emotional recluse than Kevin.
"I'm sorry about your cat," Molly said. "It was an impulse. Kevin needs lots of excitement." She traced the edge of the cut glass serving plate. "I want him to enjoy the campground so he won't sell it."
Lilly nodded slowly. Her hands slipped in and out of her pockets. She cleared her throat. "Did Kevin tell you about our conversation?"
"Yes."
"It wasn't exactly a rousing success."
"But not quite a failure either."
A heartbreaking flicker of hope appeared on her face. "I hope not."
"Football is a lot simpler than personal relationships."
Lilly nodded, then toyed with her rings. "I owe you an apology, don't I?"
"Yep, you do."
This time Lilly's smile had something more to it. "I was unfair. I know it."
"Darn right you were."
"I worry about him."
"And the damage a man-eating heiress might do to his fragile emotions, right?"
Lilly looked down at Roo, who'd come out from under the table. "Help me, Roo. I'm scared of her."
Molly laughed.
Lilly smiled then sobered. "I'm sorry I misjudged you, Molly. I know you care about him, and I can't believe you'd deliberately hurt him."
Molly suspected Lilly's opinion would change if she knew the circumstances behind their marriage. Only her promise to Kevin kept her from telling her the truth. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm on your side. I think Kevin needs you in his life."
"You'll never know how much that means to me." She gazed toward the door. "I'm going in for tea."
"Are you sure? The guests will be all over you."
"I'll manage." She straightened her posture. "I've had enough of hiding out. Your husband is going to have to deal with me one way or the other."
"Good for you."
By the time Molly reached the sitting room with a plate of cookies and another teapot, Lilly was chatting graciously with the guests who'd surrounded her. She had her heart in her eyes whenever she looked at Kevin, but he avoided looking back. It was almost as if he believed that any sign of affection toward her would somehow trap him.
Molly's childhood had taught her to beware of people who weren't emotionally open, and his guardedness depressed her. If she were smart, she'd rent a car and drive back to Chicago this very night.
An elderly woman from Ann Arbor who'd checked in earlier that day appeared at her elbow. "I've heard you write children's books."
"Not so much anymore," she replied glumly, thinking about the revisions she still hadn't done and the August mortgage check she wouldn't be able to write.
"My sister and I have always wanted to write a children's book, but we've been so busy traveling that we never can seem to find the time."
"There's more to writing a children's book than just finding the time," Kevin said from behind her. "It's not as easy as people seem to think."
Molly was so startled she nearly dropped the cookie plate.
"Kids want a good story," he said. "They want to laugh or get scared or learn something without having it shoved down their throats. That's what Molly does in her books. For example, in
Daphne Gets Lost
…" Off he went, describing with uncanny accuracy the techniques Molly used to reach her readers.
Later, when he appeared in the kitchen, she smiled at him.
"Thanks for defending my profession. I appreciate it."
"People are idiots." He nodded toward the baking supplies she was setting out for breakfast the next morning. "You don't need to cook so much. I keep telling you I can order from the bakery in town."
"I know. I enjoy it."
His gaze drifted over her bare shoulders and lacy camisole top. He lingered there for so long she felt as if he were running his fingers over her skin. A silly fantasy, she realized, as he made a grab for the biscuit tin where she'd just deposited the leftover cookies. "You seem to enjoy everything about this place. What happened to all those bad memories of summer camp?"
"This is how I always wanted a summer camp to be."
"Boring and lots of old people?" He bit into a cookie. "You've got strange taste."
She wasn't going to argue with him about this. Instead, she asked the question she'd been postponing all afternoon. "You haven't said anything about your interviews this morning."
He scowled. "They didn't go as well as I wanted. The first guy might have been a great chef once, but now he shows up drunk for interviews. And the woman I interviewed put so many restrictions on when she could work that she'd have been useless."
Molly's spirits soared, only to sink as he went on.
"I've got one more candidate coming in tomorrow afternoon, though, and she was great on the phone. She didn't even mind a Sunday interview. I figure we can train her on Monday and leave here by Wednesday afternoon at the latest."
"Hooray," she said glumly.
"Don't tell me you're going to miss falling out of bed at five-thirty in the morning?"
Amy giggled in the hallway. "Troy, don't!"
The newlyweds were getting ready to check in before they left. Every afternoon right after tea they raced back to their apartment, where Molly was fairly certain they jumped into bed and made very noisy love before they had to return to the B&B for the night.
"Lucky us," Molly muttered. "Now we can get lectured on our sexual inadequacies by both of them."
"Like hell." With no warning Kevin grabbed her, pushed her against the refrigerator, and crushed his mouth to hers.
She knew exactly what he was doing. And while this might be better than her hickey idea, it was a lot more dangerous.
His free hand caught her leg beneath the knee and raised it. She snaked it over his hip and curled her arms around him. His other hand dipped under her top and covered her breast. Just as if he had the right.
It was all for show. She told herself that as she parted her lips and let his tongue slip into her mouth. He felt as if he somehow belonged here, inside this one small part of her, and she wanted to kiss him forever.
The kitchen door thumped, reminding her they had witnesses. Which, of course, was the whole point. Kevin drew back a few inches, not even far enough for her lips to cool. His eyes never left her mouth, and he kept his hand on her breast.
"Go away."
A gasp from Amy. The thud of the door. The sound of quickly retreating footsteps.
"I—I guess we showed them," Molly breathed against his mouth.
"I guess," he replied. And then he started kissing her all over again.
"Molly, I—Oh! Excuse me…"
Another quick thud of the door. More retreating footsteps, this time Lilly's.
Kevin muttered a dark curse. "We're getting out of here."
His voice held the same note of determination she'd heard in television interviews when he promised to dominate Green Bay. He released Molly's leg. His hand slipped more reluctantly from her breast.
She'd gotten herself right back where she wasn't supposed to be. "I really don't think—"
"No more thinking, Molly. I'm your husband, damn it, and it's time you start acting like a wife."
"Like a—What do you—"
But Kevin was fundamentally a man of action, and he'd done enough talking. Shackling her wrist, he hauled her to the back door.
She couldn't believe it. He was abducting her to have__
Forced Sex!
Oh, jeez… Fight back! Tell him no!
She knew from watching Oprah exactly what a woman was supposed to do in this situation. Scream at the top of her lungs, drop to the ground, and start kicking her assailant as hard as she could. Oprah's authority had explained that not only did this strategy have the advantage of surprise, but it used a woman's lower-body strength.
Scream. Drop. Kick.
"No," she whispered.
Kevin wasn't listening. He was dragging her across the garden and along the path that ran between the cottages and the lake. His long legs ate up the ground just as they did when he was trying to beat the final whistle. She would have stumbled if he didn't have such a tight grip on her.
Scream. Drop. Kick
. And keep screaming. She remembered that part. You were supposed to keep screaming the whole time you were kicking.
The idea of dropping to the ground was interesting. Counterintuitive, but it did make sense. Women couldn't compete with men when it came to upper-body strength, but if the male assailant was standing and the woman dropped… A shower of hard, fast kicks to the soft parts… It definitely made sense.
"Uhm, Kevin…"
"Be quiet, or I swear to God I'll take you right here."
Yes, this was definitely Forced Sex.
Thank goodness.
Molly was so tired of thinking, so tired of fighting what she wanted so much. She knew it was a lousy reflection on her personal maturity that she needed to believe that the decision had been taken out of her hands. Even crummier to regard Kevin as a sexual predator. But at twenty-seven she wasn't yet the woman she wanted to be. The woman she intended to be. By the time she was thirty, she was absolutely certain she would have taken charge of her own sexuality. But for right now let him do it.
They were bump, bump, bumping down the path, passing Fairest Lord Jesus, passing Noah's Ark. Lilies of the Field lay right ahead.
She reminded herself of Kevin's shortcomings as a lover and vowed she wouldn't say a word to him about them either during or afterward. He wasn't a naturally selfish person. How was he supposed to know about foreplay when he'd had all those women servicing him? And a little slam, bam, thank you, ma'am would be a good thing. Those feverish nighttime images that had been robbing her of sleep would finally fade in the harsh glare of reality.
"Inside." He jerked open the cottage door and gave her a push.
She had no choice in the matter. No choice at all. He was bigger, stronger, apt to turn violent at any moment.
Even for an imaginative person that was a stretch.
She wished he hadn't let her go, but she liked the way he'd braced his hands on his hips. And his glare definitely looked threatening.
