ThreeReasonsWhy (6 page)

When she didn’t speak, Cheryl rose. “I’m headed for bed
unless you need help cleaning up out here.”

“No,” Jill said. “I only have to finish sweeping. Go on to
bed. I won’t be too far behind you.”

“If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.”

Jill nodded.

“Night, then.”

Jill listened as her friend climbed the stairs to her
apartment, but she didn’t stand. Swallowing hard, she tried to fight back
tears. She was being stupid and emotional. Her resolve to hold Wes at arm’s
length was definitely wavering. He made her want far too much. Too much that
she could never have. That she could never give him. She took a deep breath and
whispered the words. Uttered them aloud in the quiet room.

“I can’t have children.”

Hearing them, she realized she’d never spoken them out loud.
She said it again. “I can’t have children.”

The acknowledgement sent tears to her eyes, but she batted
them away. She’d never cried over that loss and she sure as hell wasn’t going
to start now.

Her mind drifted back to Christmas morning.

Kate and Rick had gone upstairs, leaving her and Wes alone
for far too long. Shortly after their incredible make-out session under the
mistletoe, they’d joined Kate and Rick in the kitchen for breakfast…

“Oh damn, Jill,” Wes said, leaning back in his chair and
rubbing his stomach. “That was delicious.”

Rick assumed a similar pose while she and Kate giggled.

“Twenty dollars says they’re both asleep on the couch in
front of the TV in an hour,” her sister teased.

“You’re on,” Jill said. “I say they’ll be dozing in
thirty minutes.”

Wes topped up her mimosa, then lifted his own. They
clinked the glasses together as Wes said, “To the chef. Long may she reign.”

Jill grinned. “Men are so easy to please it’s
frightening.”

Wes nodded. “I’d like to protest that sentiment, but I’m
afraid it’s true. Give me a full stomach and a hot woman in my bed and I feel
like the richest man on earth.”

Rick placed his arm around the back of Kate’s chair,
pulling it closer. “I don’t know about that, Wes. I may have Kate in my bed,
but I don’t think I’ll really be happy until I have my ring on her finger.”

Kate blushed. “Rick. We’ve talked about that. We haven’t
even known each other a full year. It’s too soon to talk marriage.”

“I’m thirty-five, Kate. We can wait years and it still
won’t change how much I want you to be my wife.”

Wes leaned forward. Jill knew he was talking about Kate
and Rick, but he looked at her as he spoke. “And babies. You want to start
having kids before you’re too old to pick them up.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Again with the kid talk. Wes, I
swear to God, you aren’t going to be satisfied until you have a brood as big as
The Brady Bunch
.”

Wes didn’t disagree as his smile grew larger. “Six kids
wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Especially if I had the perfect woman to raise
them with.”

“Florence Henderson’s a bit old for you, wouldn’t you
say?” Jill joked, surprised she could speak so naturally when every drop of
moisture had evaporated in her mouth.

Wes acknowledged her jest with a quick nod, but the look
in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. Wes Robson thought he was
looking at his perfect woman. God help him.

Jill had spent the remainder of the holiday trudging through
as if she were waist deep in mud. It had taken all the strength in her body to
remain at the old farmhouse Rick and Wes shared without running away like a
coward. From that point on, she’d avoided Wes. Though it hadn’t been easy to
maintain her distance these past couple of months, it was certainly preferable to
the hell she resided in now that Wes was hanging around every day.

She wanted him. Wanted him more than she’d ever wanted
anyone or anything. However, she couldn’t be what he wanted and she would never
ask him to sacrifice something that meant so much to him. Wes wanted to be a
father. She smiled sadly. He’d be an amazing dad. So much better than the guy
who’d donated the sperm to create Jill and Kate.

She’d decided years ago that marriage wasn’t in the cards
for her. She’d taken that dream out of her future equation and she’d stuck to
her guns, eschewing relationships in favor of casual dating.

“It’s not going to happen,” she muttered to herself. “No use
crying over spilled milk. You want Wes. He wants kids. The pieces don’t fit.
They’ll never fit. Time to move on.”

She rose and finished tidying, using the hard work to ease
the ache in her chest. She was just about to turn off the lights when she heard
a soft knock on the front door. She considered ignoring it but when the sound
came again, she walked over and raised the blind.

“We’re closed,” she said before she realized it was Wes on
the other side.

He smiled and held up a picnic basket.

She turned the lock, trying not to be so pleased by his
unexpected appearance.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as he walked in and
placed his basket on the nearest booth. She locked the door behind him.

“Since you couldn’t go out for dinner, I thought maybe I
could entice you into joining me for dessert.” He opened the basket, pulling
out large, fresh strawberries and a container of melted chocolate sauce.

“Strawberries and chocolate, my favorite.”

“I know,” he said.

She was taken aback by his admission. Wes had been paying
closer attention to her over the years than she’d realized. The wildflowers and
dessert all proved he had indeed done his homework. The idea put the lump back
in her throat. He wasn’t making this easy.

“Here.” He pulled out several more items from the basket.
“Why don’t you pop this CD in the stereo and I’ll light a candle and open the
wine?”

She grinned. Candlelight, music, wine. He was certainly
pulling out all the stops, and her traitorous heart was falling for every
delectable bit of it.

“Wes.” She needed to find a way to get him out of here.
She’d always thought herself too practical, too cynical to fall for such
romantic trappings. “I’m sort of tired.”

He turned and softly ran his finger along her cheek,
studying her face. She tried to hide the traces of her earlier anguish, tried
to erase all evidence of how depressed she truly was. “You work too hard. I
just want to take care of you, Jill. Give you a few minutes to relax, to throw
off the stress.”

His words soothed her soul, cooled the red-hot pain like
aloe on a sunburn. She nodded, unable to speak. Turning away, she walked to the
CD player.

She returned to the corner booth he’d set up for them. Just
a few minutes. She wanted just a few minutes with him. Tomorrow she’d be
strong. Tomorrow she’d tell him the real reason she couldn’t be with him and
he’d leave. Leave her alone forever.

The soft sounds of George Strait singing a slow song filled
the air. Damn, how did he know she was a sucker for a country love song?

“So how was your job interview?” she asked, desperate to
find something innocuous to lighten the spell he was slowly putting her under.

“Pretty good. I’m not sure it was an ‘are we going to hire
you’ interview as much as a ‘get to know you before you start’ interview.”

“So you got the job?” She reached for a strawberry only to
have him swat her hand away.

“Let me.” He picked up a strawberry and dipped it into the
chocolate before raising the fruit to her lips. She leaned forward, biting the
entire berry, her lips brushing his fingertips where he held the stem. His eyes
darkened at her movement, and he stared at her mouth without moving.

“You have a bit of chocolate on your lips.” He bent to swipe
the sweet sauce from the corner of her mouth with his tongue. His lips lingered
on hers and she closed her eyes, lost to the soft touch.

She was disappointed when he sat down and pointed to the seat
across from him. She struggled to gather her composure.

“I got the job.”

“So tonight is a celebration?” She gestured at the wine.

“Every night I’m with you is a celebration.”

She expected him to follow his compliment with some sort of
joke. When he merely smiled at her as if she were Cleopatra, Helen of Troy and
Aphrodite all rolled into one, her face flushed. Shit, he meant what he was
saying. This wasn’t good.

She cleared her throat. “So what’s the job?”

He shook his head. “It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?”

“Yep. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight I just want to be with
you.” He fed her two more strawberries before he rose from the booth. Holding
out his hand as another slow song came on, he reached for her. “Dance with me.”

She started to refuse but the idea of being held in his arms
was too great a temptation. She took his hand as he led her to the large aisle
next to the table. They swayed slowly in time with the music, and Jill closed
her eyes, reveling in the moment. He was a wonderful dancer, and as the Dixie
Chicks sang about a cowboy taking them away, Jill marveled at the sensation
that she truly was flying away with him, free at last from her fears, her
responsibilities, her loneliness.

She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to the
sure, strong sound of his heartbeat. His hand drifted along her back, up and
down in time with the music, and she savored the sensations his gentle touch
created. She was relaxed, comfortable, at peace. All those concepts that were
always just out of her reach permeated every part of her being, and she was
hard-pressed to resist the magic of it.

As the song ended, Wes loosened his grip, reaching up to cup
the back of her head. She raised her face to his as he kissed her. The kiss was
warm and slow, the sort of kiss every girl dreams of receiving just once in her
life.

It was perfect.

He
was perfect.

And she was in big, big trouble. She backed away from him.

“I have to go.”

He frowned, confused. “Jill—”

“I can’t do this. I wish you would try to understand.” She
continued moving away.

He took a step toward her, raised his hand as if to touch
her.

“Please.” The broken plea gave her away, and he froze.

She remained still, forcing herself to look at his sad face.
She chiseled the image on her heart so she wouldn’t forget. She couldn’t
forget. This was the only future they could have. One of sadness, regret, loss.
Better to suffer it now than later.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. And she did the one thing she’d
wanted to do at Christmas. She ran.

Chapter Four

Jill wasn’t surprised to find Kate at the end of her diner
counter bright and early the next morning.

“I suppose Wes sent you.”

Kate pretended to be hurt. “What? Can’t a sister come for a
visit without an ulterior motive?”

Jill glanced at the clock. “It’s seven o’clock in the
morning, Kate. Bit early for a social call, wouldn’t you say?”

“I don’t get it.”

Jill didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She and Kate weren’t
just sisters, they were friends. After a lifetime together, they could move
between conversations and never miss a beat. “There’s a lot of that going
around. I don’t know why you and Wes can’t accept that I’m not interested in a
relationship. Not with him. Not with anybody.”

Jill turned to pick up the coffeepot and filled her sister’s
mug. There were only a few diners around, none within earshot. Kate had chosen
her seat and her time wisely. The diner wouldn’t fill up for another hour.

“Sell that bullshit to someone else, Jill. You and Wes are
perfect for each other. And you are most definitely interested. More than
interested. I’d say you were downright hot for the man.”

Jill leaned her arms on the counter, moving closer to her
sister. “Please just trust me when I say I know what Wes wants in a woman, and
I can’t give it to him.”

Kate frowned. “What’s your hang-up about commitment? You
know, you never used to be like this. You had steady boyfriends in high school
and after graduation. What changed?”

Jill sucked in a deep breath. She’d practiced saying the
words last night, knowing things with Wes would never be resolved until she
confessed her secret. Having a conversation like this in the diner probably
wasn’t wise. It was bound to become too emotional. Then Jill decided it was the
perfect place. Things wouldn’t get too heavy. If they did, there was a good
chance she’d be interrupted and could escape for a few minutes to get her shit
back together. Plus, Kate wouldn’t try to console her in public. Jill knew that
was the one thing that couldn’t happen. If Kate tried to hug her, she’d fall
apart and she refused to do that.

“You know I’ve always had bad periods.”

Kate nodded.

“I was diagnosed with endometriosis a few years ago. It’s
bad. Really bad.”

“How bad is really bad?”

“I can’t have children.”

Jill had to hand it to her sister. Kate managed to maintain
a stone face, though her eyes spoke volumes. No one in the diner would think
they were talking about anything more serious than the weather.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jill struggled to answer. Her mother had always accused her
of having more pride than sense. Obviously that was true. She’d just felt so
inadequate. So broken. It had taken her weeks to accept the diagnosis, and
saying the words to another person had gotten harder with each passing day
until she’d given up trying. “I don’t know why. I couldn’t.”

Kate nodded, took her answer at face value. Jill was
grateful for that easy acceptance. She knew the rest of the conversation was
going to be hard enough without Kate expecting her to dive too deeply into her
fucked-up psyche.