Loving Laura (The Cantrelle Family Trilogy) (13 page)

“Let’s go back inside. You’re soaked,” he said, his voice thick.

She let him take her elbow and propel her through the door. Her own limbs felt lifeless. The knowledge that she’d thrown herself at him pulsed through her. She stumbled.

He steadied her. “Laura... Laura,” he said, “look at me.”

I can’t.
She was afraid of what she’d see in his eyes. He was probably embarrassed. Or worse, he was disgusted by the way she’d acted when all he’d intended was comfort in the face of her panic attack.
Oh, God.
How could she ever face him again? She’d been all over him. And he was Norman’s
brother,
for God’s sake. But no matter how much she berated herself, she knew, deep down where only her darkest secrets lay, that if he were to kiss her again, she would respond exactly the same way. Where Neil Cantrelle was concerned, her scruples and principles didn’t seem to matter.

All that really mattered was Neil. The knowledge stunned her. It changed every perception she’d ever had of herself. It frightened her and repulsed her and fascinated her. One part of her wanted to scream a denial. The other part of her was chillingly accepting.
Look at him, you idiot. Don’t let him see how this has affected you. Brazen it out.

Neil touched her shoulder, and she turned. Slowly, she raised her eyes. But when she met his dark gaze, what she saw wasn’t disgust or embarrassment but a look of wistfulness mixed with regret. He didn’t smile, but his voice was gentle. “That should never have happened. I’m very sorry it did.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” A tiny seed of hope began to replace her own embarrassment, a hope she knew she had no right to feel.

“Yes, it was. It won’t happen again.”

But even as he said the words, Laura knew that whatever this thing was between them, it wasn’t going to go away.

Neil could see she was still shaking, and her white blouse and navy blue skirt were both plastered to her. Even as he told himself he had to minimize the importance of their kiss, he couldn’t help noticing how the cotton fabric of her blouse clung to her, molding against her breasts and slender torso. The wet material was now transparent, and through it, her lacy bra and what it covered were clearly visible.

She’s freezing, he thought, disgusted with himself, and he was standing there staring at her breasts like he’d never seen any before.

“Let’s get you dry.” He took her by the arm, and she let him lead her to the bathroom, where he snatched a towel from the rack. “You should get those wet clothes off. You’re soaked through.”

She didn’t meet his eyes as she took the towel and began drying her face and hair. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’m going to get you one of my sweatshirts to put on.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” he said, cutting off her protest. “Go on into the bathroom and take off that wet blouse. Get yourself dry.”

While he was gone he berated himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Why had he kissed her? Neil tried to tell himself his reaction was natural, just a way of comforting her when she was upset and afraid. But he was too honest not to know the truth.

Don’t lie to yourself. You wanted to kiss her. You’ve been thinking about her ever since Saturday night. You took advantage of the situation—and her.

Disgust flooded him.
You’re a real jerk. All you had to do was pat her back in a friendly, brotherly way. Instead you couldn’t keep your hands off her.

Brotherly.
The word pummeled him. It kept pummeling him as he yanked a thick sweatshirt out of the dresser and raced back down to the office. Laura took the sweatshirt and disappeared into the bathroom.

He was still grappling with the fact that he’d betrayed his brother in the worst kind of way when Laura emerged wearing his dark blue sweatshirt. She’d toweled her hair dry and now it was neatly combed. Her face was composed.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

He could see she was trying hard to act as if everything were normal between them. But she didn’t meet his eyes. He had to say something. “Laura, we can’t pretend nothing happened. We have to talk about this.”

Now she looked at him. Color stained her cheeks, and her eyes were bright. Too bright. “I’m so embarrassed,” she admitted. “You must think I’m—”

“I don’t think you’re anything. What happened wasn’t your fault. You were frightened and upset, and I...I just...”
Listen to you. You can’t even explain it so that it makes sense.
“There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about. It was my fault, I’m sorry, and it won’t happen again. I promise you.”

She swallowed, then bit her lower lip. The gesture touched something deep inside Neil. She looked so defenseless standing there. He desperately wanted to go to her and hold her in his arms again, tuck her head under his chin and bury his face in her shiny, sweet-smelling hair. Tell her they’d done nothing wrong.

“I just feel so stupid,” she said.

“Why?”

She grimaced. “Oh, come on. You know it’s not normal to act the way I did. You must think I’m a basket case.”

“No, I don’t.” Belatedly, he’d remembered what Denise had told him about Laura’s fear of the dark. That fear must be what had triggered her actions.

The full brilliance of her eyes met his, and now it was Neil’s turn to swallow. Those eyes were enough to make a man forget his own name. No woman should have eyes like hers, eyes that you could drown in, eyes that made you want to protect her and take care of her, eyes that were so beautiful they made you ache inside.

“I hate being a freak,” she said.

“Laura, don’t be so hard on yourself. We all have weaknesses. Hell, I told you about mine the other night.”

“That’s different.”

He sighed. “Listen, why don’t you sit down? Let’s have a cup of coffee and talk. It’s so bad out there now, I don’t think you should try to go home until it clears up some.”

As if to emphasize his point, the windows rattled as the wind whistled around the building, and thunder rolled overhead.

Five minutes later they were sitting facing each other, each behind a desk. Laura held a mug of tea in her hands.

“Want to tell me about it?” Neil suggested softly.

She didn’t pretend not to know what he was talking about. She stared down into her mug as if fascinated with the steam curling up and into the air. After a few minutes, she raised her eyes and looked directly at him. “I’ve never talked about this before. I...I’ve always been too ashamed.”

Her eyes seemed to be asking him if she could trust him. Without words, he tried to tell her she could. She sighed deeply, then said, “The reason I’m so afraid of being closed up in a dark place is that my mother used to shut me up in the bedroom closet for hours at a time. Sometimes even all day...or all night. She’d tell me I was stupid, that she hated me, and then she’d lock me up.”

The stark words hung in the air. Neil didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it was nothing like this. Sure, he’d sensed that Laura had suffered, that something had given her the idea that she wasn’t worth a hell of a lot, but
this
... this was worse than anything he could have imagined. “Jeez,” he whispered softly. “Why?”

Her shoulders lifted. “Who knows? I always thought it was because I wasn’t good. For years I tried and tried to be good, to be the daughter she wanted. But it never worked. She couldn’t stand me. Now I realize it probably had nothing to do with me. She... she was just terribly unhappy.” Laura took a sip of her tea and looked away from him.

Neil thought about his mother. How good she was. How much she had always loved him and his brother and sisters. How she would gladly lay herself down in front of a truck if she could prevent one of her children coming to harm. Cold anger seeped into him like a slow-moving poison. “How old were you the first time this happened?” he finally managed to ask. He was no psychologist, but he thought it might do her good to get it all out in the open.

“I’m not sure. Two or three, I guess.”

Neil balled his fists. A baby.

“My father abandoned my mother when I was about eighteen months old. I don’t know why, maybe he just couldn’t take the responsibility of a wife and child. I’m not really sure what happened, because Ginger—my mother— never had anything good to say about him. It’s hard for me to know what was fact and what was fiction as far as she’s concerned.”

“This was where? In California?”

“Yes. My mother was an actress.” She laughed, the sound brittle and hollow. “Well, let’s put it this way. She
wanted
to be an actress. The closest she ever came was a small part in a teen scream horror movie. My dad was a burlesque show comic. We lived in ratty apartments in rundown sections of Hollywood. I really hated my life.”

Neil remembered what Denise had said about Laura loving his family. No wonder, he thought. Compared to what she was describing, his family must have appeared idyllic.

“From the time I was old enough to realize that not everyone lived the way I did, I wanted to get away from her. I dreamed about having a family like the kind I read about and saw on TV shows...” She laughed again, this time one tinged with embarrassment. “You know—families like Beaver’s.”

He smiled. “Yeah, June and Ward Cleaver
did
make life seem ideal. But that’s not the way real life is. All families have their problems.”

“That might be true, but to me it never seemed that way. I had a wonderful friend—actually, we’re still friends—and I used to go to her house, and it was so perfect. Sitting around her kitchen table. Having her mother fuss over me. Feed me cookies she’d baked herself...” Her voice trailed off wistfully. “I used to go back to our apartment and think about what I was leaving behind.”

Her voice was filled with yearning, and once again, Neil wished he had the right to go to her. “My entire life I’ve felt like the rest of the world—the normal world—existed inside a huge golden circle of love with families that cared about each other—and I was on the outside of the circle, always looking in, always wanting to be a part of all that but knowing I never would be.”

He couldn’t stand it another minute. He got up, walked over to her desk and knelt in front of her. He took the mug away from her trembling hands and set it on the top of the desk. Then he took her hands into his. She didn’t look at him, but she didn’t resist him. Her head was bowed, and her hair fell like a shining curtain around her face. Her gold-tipped lashes lay against her pale skin, shielding her eyes from his view. Her lower lip stuck out, vulnerable and soft-looking. It was all Neil could do to hold her hands quietly when what he wanted to do was gather her close and never let anyone hurt her again.

No wonder Norman had fallen in love with her. Neil knew if he wasn’t careful, he would fall in love with her, too. He picked his words carefully. “Laura, I know you think I couldn’t understand, but I do. Although I never thought of it in just that way, I’ve had some of the same feelings.”

Her startled blue eyes met his. “You!” She pulled her hands away, and Neil reluctantly got to his feet. “How could you possibly understand? You’ve got the most wonderful family in the world. It’s obvious to anyone how close you all are, how much you care about each other.”

He heard the disbelief in her voice. “Yes, well, sometimes family isn’t enough.”

“I’d give anything to have a family like yours, Neil. You should be grateful for them.”

“I
am
grateful for them. All I’m saying is that sometimes a person needs something different. I...”
Go ahead, say it.
“I had a marriage that wasn’t exactly storybook, and I used to feel the same way you did. I’d go over to my partner’s house and sit in his kitchen and see what a great family life he had, and I’d be jealous. I wanted the same kind of relationship. So I know what you mean when you talk about being on the outside looking in. You’re not alone in those feelings.”

Forehead knitted, she considered what he’d said. He could see her struggling to accept the idea that she wasn’t unique. That she wasn’t a freak.

Pressing his advantage, he said, “Listen. Your childhood was rotten, so you idealized everyone else’s, but believe me, the rest of the world is just as screwed up. In fact, I don’t know anyone who hasn’t got some kind of skeleton in the closet.” He stopped. “Uh, that was a bad metaphor, wasn’t it?”

He knew he was making headway when he saw the tiny smile tipping her lips. “Laura, you’re tough. Tougher than you think. Yeah, you got a raw deal, but you survived it. You’re not hiding out feeling sorry for yourself.” As soon as he said the words, he thought, like you did for three years. Laura really
was
strong. Stronger than he was. He’d run away from the things he didn’t want to face, but she was coping. Trying to cope, anyway.

He smiled at her. “Now, why don’t you go the rest of the way? Have you ever thought about getting professional help?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

“Good. That’s the best thing you can do for yourself.” He stood, leaned against her desk. “Tell me a little more about your fear. Are you just afraid of the dark, or do you have claustrophobia, too?”

She studied her hands. “I have some claustrophobia. As long as I’m in well-lighted places, I’m okay. But I don’t handle small, enclosed places well. Some I can’t handle at all.”

“But just a little while ago I saw you go into the bathroom and close the door.”

She grimaced. “I know. But it’s still a struggle.” She gave him a wry smile. “When I’m here alone, I leave the door open.”

“And cars don’t bother you?”

“No, thank goodness. There’s something about the movement of the car and being outdoors that makes it okay.” She sighed. “I know. I’m weird. The whole thing’s weird.”

He grinned. “We’re all weird.” Striving to lighten the atmosphere, he added, “Now, I don’t know about you, but all this talking has made me hungry. Want to go get a pizza or something?”

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to go home and build a fire in the fireplace and heat up some soup.”