Meant for Me (11 page)
“I swear to you, Eric. It won’t.” She tilts her head back to look at me. “It’s just complicated, and you have enough to worry about right now. Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”
“Can you at least tell me what it’s about?” I press, wheeling her backwards into the elevator as someone holds the door open for us.
Seeing that we’re in an enclosed space with a group of strangers, all Ivy does is shake her head. I have to believe she’ll tell me when she’s ready. I’m not good at trusting people, but I trust her.
The last thing she would ever do is break my heart.
Can this trip get any more nauseating?
“Home sweet home,” Eric whispers, leaning in to nuzzle Ivy’s nose.
“I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed tonight,” Ivy responds, practically cooing in his ear.
I clear my throat before they can indulge in another one of their endless lip-lock sessions. They always seem to have to be touching each other—her palm on his chest, his fingers in her hair, her head on his shoulder, his hand on her waist. It’s so annoying. After watching them fondle the crap out of each other through four different time zones, I’ve about had it.
It was bad enough that they made me practically sit in the aisle while they made out on the plane during the flight. But now we’re into our third hour of being crammed together in the front of Eric’s truck. I can’t even raise my elbows because Ivy’s pressed so close against me. I would have gladly ridden in the cab with the luggage if wasn’t so freaking cold out.
“Oh great, a welcoming committee,” I grumble as we bounce over the glorified cow trail that leads to Eric’s rustic little dwelling.
“Wow, what’s everybody doing here?” Ivy ponders, striving to hide the disappointment in her voice. Ha! She thought their fuck fest would commence the minute they banished me to the woodshed. Think again, sweetheart.
“They probably just want to welcome you home. They’ve been so worried about you.” Eric sounds a little more pleased to see them than she is. Hmm, maybe things aren’t as rosy in paradise. “You know my mom. She can’t resist the opportunity to bring over a home-cooked meal.”
“Oh, so you think everybody’s here for dinner?” Ivy asks, jabbing me with her elbow as she squirms beside me.
“Ouch! Watch it, would ya?” I snarl, and she shoots me a look to shut up. She’s not a happy camper right now. Yeah, well, neither am I.
Eric drives up to the group standing on the porch. A lady with grey hair and glasses is waving enthusiastically while an old dude in suspenders is frantically trying to hold on to Eric’s dog, who is going berserk. There’s a slightly younger couple that can only be described as redneck fabulous watching our approach. The guy has his arm around the shoulders of her bright orange hunting vest while holding a beer bottle in his hand. It seems the party’s already started by the looks of it.
I’m about to close my eyes in despair when a smokin’ hot guy gets up from one of the rocking chairs on the porch. He leaves the buxom blonde he was sitting next to and struts toward the truck. His eyes immediately laser in on mine as I stare him down. He doesn’t look away—and neither do I—as he keeps getting closer and closer. He’s wearing a football jersey that accentuates the broad shoulders that taper down to a narrow waist. He blinks when he steps in front of Eric’s headlights, and I curse under my breath when I see the name of the high school football team emblazoned across his chest. Shit, he’s probably not even legal.
But instead of stopping and waiting for us to get out, he marches right over to my door, opening it without a second’s hesitation. I don’t often get flustered, but I do like a man who takes charge. He offers his hand to help me down, and any guy striving to keep his sexuality a secret would surely refuse. But I can’t resist.
His hand is larger than mine as my thumb grazes the soft hair on his knuckles. Instead of drawing away at my caress, he grips my hand tighter until we’re standing eye to eye. He’s slightly taller than I am, but not by much, and he smells so good—like a woodsy combination of musk and pine. My lips part involuntarily. To cover my indiscretion, I whistle sharply before reluctantly withdrawing my hand.
“Ivy, I’m surprised Eric would have another teenage guy within spitting distance of you after what happened with Ryan.” I don’t mean to insult him in such an offensive way, but I have to regain the upper hand. It’s such an inappropriate thing for me to say, and his eyes widen in shock as Ivy gasps behind me. Well played, Carter. You idiot.
“Don’t talk to Ben like that, Will. What the hell?” Ivy protests, smacking me in the shoulder when I don’t turn around. I glance over at Eric and luckily he didn’t hear what I said. He’s too busy hugging a woman who appears to be his mother.
“You know about Ryan?” Ben’s deep baritone greets my ears as he nudges me out of the way to help Ivy down. The contact is ever so brief but it shoots an electric current all through my body. Shit, is he coming on to me? Or is he just used to being physical with other guys as a member of the football team? It is a tackle sport, after all.
“Yeah, he does, but can we not talk about it right now?” Ivy pleads, smoothing down the front of her jeans. “I have enough on my mind without worrying about that.”
“But you promised you were going to think about it,” Ben insists, flicking a quick glance in my direction.
“Think about what?” I inquire, desirous to have him talk to me.
“Ben, a lot happened since you saw me last, okay? I can only handle one member of the Price family at a time and right now his stepsister is the one I have to deal with first,” Ivy says, yawning halfway through her reply. “In the meantime, why don’t you help Will bring his stuff around to the woodshed?”
“The woodshed? Man, that’s a come down from L.A. I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Hollywood?” Ben smirks when he sees that the majority of the suitcases in the back of the truck are mine. “What are you doing back here anyway?”
“He’s here to help me with the screenplay,” Ivy butts in, not giving me a chance to respond. “You boys behave yourselves, all right? I’m going over to say hello to Eric’s parents and Jack and his wife.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ben replies saucily, checking out her ass as she walks away. Maybe we don’t bat for the same team after all. I better find out.
“Who’s the chick on the porch?” I prod, enjoying how his jersey is riding up over his back as he reaches for the luggage. His jeans are practically spray-painted on, and they dip below his hips as he leans over the cab. Damn, I think he’s going commando as the top of his crack comes into view. If we were alone and I was certain of his intentions, I’d pull them all the way down until that glorious posterior was on full display.
“The flavor of the week,” Ben responds flippantly as he tucks two of my bags under his arm. “Why stick with one when you can sample them all?”
“I take it you don’t discriminate when it comes to screwing around.” I leave my response decidedly open-ended, allowing him to take this conversation in whatever direction he wants it to go.
We’ve moved beyond the gathering out front where it’s a lot more private. I want him to open up to me. I hate the game I’m forced to play with other guys. It’s such a delicate balance when I’m not sure if someone is feeling me out or not. I don’t want to come on too strong if he’s not, but I’d regret not making my intentions clear if he is.
“You could say that,” Ben replies noncommittally. His back is to me as we march single file against the side of the house so I can’t see his face. Is he teasing me or turning me down? I can’t tell.
“Why are you here anyway?” I ask, deciding to change tactics. “Are you Eric’s cousin or something?”
“Yeah, right,” he snickers as we enter the clearing in the backyard, the woodshed looming before us. “I work for him part-time at the garden center. It’s a lot of manual labor, but it helps pay for shit like gas and—”
“An endless supply of condoms,” I interject, never taking my eyes off his chiseled profile that is now bathed in moonlight.
“You’re pretty funny, you know that? I pegged you for more of a dick.” He shakes his head while trudging forward, not even winded from carrying my heavy bags.
“Why do say that? You don’t even know me,” I mutter.
“I saw you making a move on Ivy in the diner. You could’ve fooled me,” he chuckles. If he’s baiting me, I’m falling right into his trap. I’m caught off guard by his admission that he noticed me around town last summer.
“About what?” I question, hoping this is going in the direction I think it is. “Being a player?”
“More like being gay,” he states plainly, lining up my suitcases against the woodshed as he turns to face me.
“Is that something you’re into?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“Could be, if I met the right guy,” he appraises me before stepping forward, his mouth inches from mine.
Suddenly, the kitchen lights flick on, throwing us in the spotlight. I instinctively take a step back, regretting it as I do. Ben sighs dishearteningly over my reaction. He’s young and brash. He doesn’t know how much this could complicate matters. He thinks he can have whomever he wants without any consequences. I used to be that guy. I know the mindset. It’s dangerous, especially in a town like this. I can tell he’s had everything he’s ever wanted handed to him, no questions asked. But he needs to realize he’s putting his whole life in jeopardy if he’s going to pursue me openly. It’s not worth it. I’m used to lurking in the shadows. He’ll get used to it too. Besides, he’s hooked now. There’s no going back.
“Meet me back here around midnight,” I urge, licking my lips in anticipation. “Knock three times so I know it’s you.”
He smiles mischievously at me. “I’ll park at the garden center and walk over from there. This way, Eric and Ivy won’t hear my truck.”
“Will! Ben! C’mon inside. It’s time to eat,” Ivy yells out, sliding open the kitchen window.
We both jump guiltily at the sound of her voice.
“We’ll be right there,” I manage to shout back.
I tilt my head in the direction of the house, and we match our strides while hiking up the grassy hill. I’m excited about our scheduled rendezvous. Ben fascinates me. I need to know more about him.
“Have you ever been with a man?” I ask, whispering as we approach the house.
“A boy. I wouldn’t call him a man,” he replies, and I feel myself grow hot. “Not like you anyway.”
Stealing the last slice of darkness before we reach the porch, I latch my pinky finger onto his. “Tonight, I’m all yours.” For the first time all evening, I detect he’s having a hard time breathing as I stroll past him and open the front door. “Are you coming?”
“I plan on it,” he says, brushing past me as he enters the house. “All night long.”
Now it’s my turn to catch my breath as he saunters away from me, throwing an arm around his make-believe bimbo. She chats in his ear, but he ignores her, his eyes fixed on me.
It makes me wonder what ‘boy’ he was with. But I won’t think about that now. I’ll think about it later, after I’ve had him all to myself.
“It already feels like winter here,” I exclaim, rubbing my arms while sitting up in bed. “The warm weather is the only thing I’m gonna miss about L.A.”
“To tell you the truth, I was so preoccupied the whole time that I didn’t even notice the palm trees or the sunshine,” Eric responds, covering me with yet another one of his grandmother’s hand-stitched quilts.
“I do have to breathe, you know,” I protest, wiggling to free myself from beneath the extra weight, but I freeze when I feel something wet beneath my legs.
“What is it?” Eric immediately notices my reaction and begins pulling back the layers of bedding.
“I don’t know,” I moan, trying to not to panic. “I hope nothing.” I curl up on my knees and scoot across the bed. And then I see it—a bright red spot staining the sheet.
“It’s not that much,” Eric says, making a heroic effort to reassure me. “You had some spotting on the plane, but it stopped. You’ve been traveling all day and your body is still coming down from the stress.”
“Coming down? Eric, now that we’re home, things are only gonna get worse.” I push against his chest and scamper off the bed, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. Eric says nothing as I rustle through my lingerie drawer for a clean pair of panties. I lower my head, hoping to make it to the bathroom without him realizing how upset I am.
“Ivy, do you need me to help you in there?” he asks as he reaches for me, but I keep going. I don’t trust my voice, so I simply shake my head before closing the bathroom door.
He’s already starting to change the bedding as I sink to the floor in a heap, letting the rustling of the sheets muffle my sobs. I’m so scared, but I can’t let him know that. He’s already been through this before. I’m not going to do it to him again. This baby is going to live. It has to.
A wave of emotion racks my body as I convulse silently against the door. After Eric strips the bed, his footsteps move out of the room and down the stairs. A few seconds later, I hear water running through the pipes and into the laundry room. He’s probably attempting to get the bloodstain out before it sets in. It’s too painful to look at any reminders of a potential miscarriage on the horizon.
The doctor in L.A. said that the bleeding was likely to continue until I had a chance to implement her orders for strict bed rest. I’m so tired, but my heart is beating a mile a minute. I have to calm down. I push myself up, holding on to the doorknob as my bare legs scrape against the cold tile. I should have on something warmer, not just Eric’s shirt, but I can’t think about that now. Instead, I get down on my knees and pray with all of my heart for God to save this baby. I’ll do whatever it takes. Stay in bed for five months. Not have sex with Eric until after the birth. Forget about the screenplay, even if it ruins us. Nothing is more important than this baby—nothing.
I can’t believe I almost lost it. One minute I’m teasing Will about flirting with the hostess, and the next I’m crumpled on the ground, writhing in pain. I’m so mad at myself for letting Lauren get to me like that. I was exhausted from the trip, anxious about being in a strange city, uncomfortable being around Will and his L.A. lifestyle, nervous about meeting Warren and Dave. It was probably way too much stress for a woman in my condition, but having Lauren show up out of the blue to crush our plans was the icing on the cake.
My body couldn’t handle the shock, and it revolted. Lauren was relentless, drilling away, exploiting every weakness. I should’ve gotten up from the table when I felt the first twinge. I never should have stayed and listened to it all. Will could’ve filled me in later. But even after all this time, Lauren’s still able to render me powerless. It’s like she’s my kryptonite, zapping the life right out of me.
But I can’t let her do that to our baby. It deserves a fighting chance, and I put it in jeopardy because I was too much of a coward to walk away. I knew better, but I still did nothing. I needed to protect the child growing within me. Instead I froze, allowing her barrage of threatening ultimatums and sickening revelations to distract me from what I needed to do. There’s no shame in backing down against a bully, especially when the odds of coming out on top are so astronomical.
I give in to my tears, letting them wash over me. I gasp for air, my shoulders heaving. Strands of hair are plastered to my face and I don’t even bother to push them away. I’m such a wreck.
“Ivy…” Eric calls, lightly tapping on the door. “Can I come in?”
“It’s open,” I say, my voice unsteady as I crawl into the corner. There’s no way I can keep him out. I need him to hold me.
“Baby, you shouldn’t be sitting on the floor,” he moans, bending down to bury his face in my hair. I still can’t look at him, but he doesn’t make me. I shudder as he cradles me in his arms, lifting me onto his lap. I let him rock me as he strokes my head. The comfort he’s bestowing upon me only makes me cry harder. “Shhh, I’ve got you. Everything’s going to be okay.” I feel the warmth of his breath trail along my scalp before he kisses my forehead.
“And what if it’s not?” I can’t help but ask. I choke out the words, finally meeting his eyes as tears stream down my face. “What if I lose this baby?”
“You’re not,” he says, placing his hands on both sides of my face so I can’t look away.
“You don’t know that,” I sniffle stubbornly. “I’m so afraid it’s going to be all my fault.” I break into a fresh round of sobs as he gazes at me, grief-stricken.
“You’re talking like it’s already happened. Sure, we had a scare, but our baby is still growing inside of you,” he states, his voice never wavering as he uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “You need to rest. You’re overtired and not thinking straight. Things will look a whole lot better in the morning once you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”
“But Lauren’s not going to let up and—” I stop midstream when he places his fingers over my lips.
“Let’s not think about Lauren for the rest of the night, okay?” He stares into my eyes as he tilts up my chin. “We’re going to take this one day at a time. That’s all we can do. You have me on your side, and I swear I won’t let her harm you again.”
I close my eyes and swallow hard. This would be the perfect opportunity to tell him what Lauren plans to reveal about Cassidy, but I can’t. I’ll have to carry this burden a little while longer. He’s so worried about me and the baby that I can’t shatter his world by revealing Cassidy might have been cheating on him before she died. The repercussions of such a revelation would destroy him. He may think he can protect me from Lauren, but what if I’m not able to return the favor? I’m going to have to look into Lauren’s accusations before I approach him with them. She could be lying for all I know, trying to stir up trouble where it doesn’t exist.
I certainly can’t ask Cassidy for the truth. Her secrets are buried with her. I’m going to have to find out who Lauren believes the other guy is and proceed from there. If she wants me to write this tawdry script, she’s going to have to reveal some clues as to his identity. Was he one of Cassidy’s classmates in college? Does he live in town? My heart skips a beat. Does Eric know him?
This could get really ugly. I think the majority of people around here would want to remember Cassidy the way she was and not have their memories of her ruined. She was such a beacon of local pride, the selfless young woman who sacrificed her life for her unborn child, the girl next door who battled cancer with everything she had and lost. No one’s going to want to hear that she really wasn’t so sweet and innocent after all.
Lauren’s crazy to even consider putting this version of events out there for public consumption. Sure, it might have a limited audience of those who enjoy a good scandal, but most are going to be disgusted by it, thinking we’re all trying to make a quick buck off of yesterday’s news. And Eric’s the one who’s going to be vilified for going along with it because of his involvement with me. On a national level, the public isn’t going to care who Lauren is. They’re going to be too caught up in pointing fingers at Eric to pay any attention to her. Plus, if word gets out about his financial troubles, he’s going to look like the desperate ex-boyfriend trying to get rich by smearing Cassidy’s good name. Eric’s word is his bond, and it will kill him to be cast in such an unflattering light. Will he be able to bounce back from something like that? Is it even possible?
And it will be a sort of double betrayal. He’s going to be hurt when he learns of Cassidy’s infidelity and he’s going to hate me for being the one to tell him. He’ll never forgive me for keeping something like this from him, but the circumstances surrounding how he ended up in L.A. just wouldn’t allow it. I was sedated and lying in a hospital bed after nearly suffering a miscarriage. The first words out of my mouth very well couldn’t be, “Lauren thinks Cassidy cheated on you.” It wasn’t the time or the place, but now that we’re home, things are different. I can’t keep it from him much longer and expect him to understand my reasoning for not bringing it up sooner. I know if our roles were reversed I’d want him to tell me. There’s no excuse for continuing to remain silent. Like he said, we’re in this together. I have to be up front with him about everything, not just when it’s convenient for me.
“Ivy, you’re shivering,” Eric murmurs, holding me even closer to his body. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
In one fluid motion, he gets to his feet with me in his arms, reminding me of his sheer physicality. He’s such a fine specimen of a man, both inside and out.
He walks by Shep, who’s thumping his tail just outside the door, and carries me over to the bed now covered in fresh linens. He tucks me in, bundling the array of quilts and blankets up to my chin before turning out the light and slipping in beside me. He doesn’t stay on his side of the bed for long. I feel him nestle against my body, his hand on my stomach and one of his legs covering both of mine. I stare at the moon through the skylight as his breathing falls into a steady rhythm and it’s not long before he’s snoring. I allow my fingers to lightly trace his sideburns as he sleeps peacefully, unaware of the jumbled thoughts racing through my mind. I glance at the clock. It’s after midnight. I better shut my eyes and at least try to get some rest. Eric shifts in his sleep, turning over onto his back, and I already miss the warmth of his body pressed against mine.
In L.A., I got a taste of what it would be like to have to sleep alone, and it shook me to the core. I can’t go back to the way I lived before, content to lie in a dorm room all by myself. Those days are over now. No matter what kind of ideas Lauren tries to plant in my mind about going back to college, it’s not what I want. Not anymore. I run my hand across Eric’s chest while patting my stomach. I have everything I need right here.
If only I can hang on to it.
