No One Like You (29 page)

Ry kissed the tip of her nose before he straightened and explained what he’d added as incentive to the preseason. “We won today, and Halo’s already salivating. He has food on his mind as often as Atlas.”

Beth smiled. “It’s good to have a goal.”

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“A stop by Galler-E. Evelyn sent me an e-mail reminder. The progressive wedding photo is framed. It’s been ready for several days now.”

Rylan ran his knuckles along his jaw. “One or the other, Beth. You haven’t had time to get it or you’ve avoided picking it up?” The man was perceptive.

She was honest with him. “Little of both.”

“Want me to get it for you?” he asked. “Or we could go together, if you like.”

That would be the easy way out, but it was a moment she had to face. The photograph brought back too many memories. Disturbing, painful memories. “The gallery is on my way to the car wash. The dogs left sand in the back. You need a new air freshener, too.”

“The pine scent has faded.”

“I was thinking spring breeze.”

“Works for me.”

“I’d better get going, then.”

“I’ll see you around six. I want to spend some time with my granddad. Shaye brought him to the game, and I’ll take him home. We may even stop somewhere for a beer. Toast today.” He kissed her again, light and lingering, but still a turn on.

Zoo closed in on them. “Can I get a kiss, too?”

Beth eyed him. “From me or from Rylan?”

Zoo laughed out loud. “The man hit a homer. He deserves more than a kiss tonight, babe.” He disappeared between the parked cars.

“One of Zoo’s better suggestions,” said Rylan. “He specializes in bad taste.”

Frank worked his way toward them. He smiled at Beth. “Thank-you for sitting with me today. I enjoyed your company.”

“We had the best seats,” she agreed. “I liked the center field view.”

A few more comments, and they soon parted ways. Beth walked to the Range Rover. She watched over the hood as Rylan assisted Frank into the low-slung sports car. The older man had to bend, and Beth was certain his bones creaked. Two attempts, and he was seated, his seat belt hooked.

She followed the McLaren from the lot. Ry went north, and she went south to the boardwalk. She had no problem finding a parking place. Everyone in town must’ve been at the ball game. She pulled against the curb in front of the gallery. Stepped from the SUV.

She stood before the main window and stared equally as long at a beautiful floral water color inside as she did at her own reflection. She looked different, but the same, she thought. She’d avoided mirrors for a long, long time, but was no longer afraid to look at herself.

Whether long or short, her hair would always be wild. She’d inherited her mother’s curls. Also the color of her eyes. The slight cleft in her chin was from her father. She carried both of her parents with her. That was a gift.

She entered Galler-E, and Evelyn Wells waved at her from across the room. She and her associates were evaluating an oil painting. Passion lifted off the canvas of a French boudoir. The private lady’s bedroom was an exotic blend of black and white with shades of gray and gold. A sheer, three-paneled screen picked up the silhouette of a naked woman. The shadow of a shirtless man sat on the bed. Their bodies curved with sexual intent.

The composition was as sensual as the satin sheets on the bed, Beth thought. Romantic as the book of poetry on the bedside table. The artist had a lover’s heart. The work was moving and meaningful.

She inched toward the painting, not wanting to be noticed, just hoping for a better look. The piece made her insides go soft. She felt the depth of the love between those two. Knew they were soul mates.

It was a painting to be shared. To be hung over a married couples’ bed. She thought of Rylan, and somehow knew that he would appreciate the composition. The price was beyond what she could afford. That didn’t mean she couldn’t admire it a moment longer.

“It’s quite remarkable, isn’t it?” Evelyn commented when she joined Beth a short while later. “Sultry. Inspiring. Observers reactions will vary. Whoever views the painting can decide if the man is about to take her to bed or if she’s already been satisfied. The perfect wedding gift.”

“For some lucky bride and groom,” Beth agreed, sighing.

The gallery owner gave her a look of understanding. “Your photograph awaits you. The dreariness of that rainy day has been lifted with the colorful turquoise frame.”

Beth followed Evelyn to her office. Wrapped in a thick protective mailer, the photo was Beth’s for the taking, although the mailer appeared thicker and heavier than when she’d initially left it with Evelyn.

“There are two framed photographs inside,” Evelyn explained when she handed them over to Beth. “Gerald deVasi visited my shop a day or two after the Gallery Walk. He introduced himself, and we sat and had tea. I looked through his portfolio. Your photo was being framed at the time, and Gerald showed me a second black-and-white image from the same series. The single picture spoke to me. I acquired it with the sole purpose of giving it to you.” Her brow creased. “I believe when you see it, you’ll understand.”

Beth’s hands trembled. “Should I open the package now?”

Evelyn shook her head. “Alone might be better. It brings your past into perspective, Beth. Sometimes Mother Nature carries karma to the extreme. She has a wicked sense of humor.” Evelyn gave her a gentle hug. “Find peace in your heart. You deserve it.” She escorted Beth to the door.

Beth unlocked the Range Rover, set the elongated mailer on the backseat. The car wash was next on her list. Rylan had an account with Wally’s Wash and Shine. Apparently he used their services often. She got out of the SUV while it passed through the automatic conveyer. Employees took a vacuum to the inside at the exit.

“Atlas,” she heard one of the young men say. Then smile.

Afterward, she headed home. She grabbed the two photos, carried them into the cottage. Atlas met her at the door with his usual bark, demanding she share her day. She’d grown used to talking to the dog. His ears flickered as if he understood every word she said.

He followed close behind her when she walked to her bedroom. There, he sat on the end of her bed. She laid the mailer across her lap. Held it until she was ready to open it. The air seemed charged with an undefined sympathy. The feeling held as she slipped off her red Keds and stared at her burgundy and pink message socks.
Forgive and Forget
was scripted across her toes in gold thread. She took the sentiment to heart.

The photographs were carefully stacked with bubble wrap between them. She recognized the top framed photo. The image of the Statton wedding made her cringe. The expressions on the faces of the bridal party and guests were still as hateful as she remembered.

She was suddenly curious about the second photograph. The transparent plastic hinted at another gathering. She pulled the wrap away and was transported from the wedding to a lawn party. Summertime. The decorations indicated a Fourth of July Celebration.

She immediately understood the significance of the photograph. The evidence was clear. Different day. Same rain. Black clouds swarmed the sky, and a storm let loose on the Stattons and their guests once again.

People stood damp and dismayed in puddles up to their ankles. There in the forefront was the hostess. Mrs. Statton wore the same expression as she had in the wedding photo. The matron’s lips were as pinched as a prune. Her daughter appeared to be screaming or cursing at being drenched. Beth could hear her displeasure.

It seemed the same cast had assembled to reenact the drama of a spoiled party. The only person missing from the second photo was her, Beth realized. She’d been hiding in the corner of the wedding picture. Her shoulders slumped, her hands over her face. Fractured by the outcome.

Mother Nature was not one to be told what to do. She’d drowned the Stattons twice. Some people carried a dark cloud over their heads. The thought released the harshness in her heart—the part of her that had carried their baggage and blame for something that was never her fault. They’d been mean to her. Had hurt her with words and actions.

Her stepmother and stepsister had bruised her soul.

She was about to place the photographs in her suitcase when Rylan appeared down the hall. She hadn’t heard him come home. The man had stealth. He studied her from the doorway. “You look sad,” he noted. “Do you mind if I sit with you or would your rather be by yourself?”

She patted the end of the bed. “Join me.”

Atlas gave Rylan very little room to squeeze in. Ry fused himself against her.

She liked the feel of him. She held up the photographs, side by side. “Compare the two pictures. Tell me what you see.”

He narrowed his gaze. “More rain, more gloom and doom.”

“What else?” she asked.

It didn’t take him long to pick up the Stattons in both photographs. The guest list was identical. Invitations sent to the influential and prominent. A minute or so later, Rylan had figured it out. “Everyone’s angry in both photos, but the sad woman is missing in the second one. She became invisible.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You?” He was disbelieving.

She’d been heavier in the photo. Her hair longer. Yet there was no denying her identity. She cleared her throat and spoke of her past, not leaving out a single detail. Her heart lightened. She felt suddenly free.

“Holy shit,” Rylan said when she’d finished. “Those people were assholes.” He seldom swore. The fact that he was upset on her behalf soothed her.

Atlas growled, too, chiming in.

Beth ran her finger around the corner of the framed photograph. “I never understood why my dad married Luella Statton.”

“Cruella,” Ry teased her.

Beth smiled. “My father’s family came from old money. A long pedigree. His parents didn’t approve of my mother. She was middle class. Free-spirited. Bohemian. Yet she made my father happy. She would dance down the sidewalk. Dip her toes in public water fountains. Offer a stranger an ice cream cone. Laugh with zest.”

She paused, thoughtful. “My dad lost his inheritance when he married Mom. He still had the family name, just no money.

“Luella was just the opposite. She was new money, but with few social connections. My father’s name interested her most. She gave him time to mourn my mother’s passing, then pounced on him with intent and purpose. His parents were all for his second marriage.

“Once they were wed, she put on a good front for his benefit. Pretending to like me. To guide me. All the while setting me up for every possible failure. She used me as a scapegoat when it rained at my stepsister’s wedding. Words hurt. I lived with the blame. Then with the shame when the groom accused me of being his mistress. People were quick to believe him. He was a Wentworth, of the hotel Wentworths. Everyone thought the worst of me. Luella swore that wherever I went, she would ruin me. She has a far-reaching arm.

“I grabbed my mother’s battered suitcase and packed a few items. I traded in my car and headed south. It was a little scary.”

“You’re not scared now.”

“I’m feeling pretty secure, actually.” She stood then, took the photographs to her closet, and faced them toward the wall. She had come to grips with what she couldn’t change. Her future had immense possibilities.

Ry reached for her when she returned. He eased her down on his lap and held her gently.

Her body warmed. “Did you enjoy your time with your grandfather?” she wanted to know.

Rylan rubbed the back of his neck, thoughtful. “I was ready to talk sports, to discuss the game. Instead, Gramps took a walk down memory lane.”

“That surprised you?”

“A little. He got melancholy, more than usual. He talked about his wife Emma. How he knew from their first meeting that she was meant for him. I quote him now. ‘Emma Loraine Halverson was the prettiest thing a man could see on a summer day.’ ”

“How lovely.” Beth was a romantic. “When did they meet?”

“She’d ridden the train into town with her family. They were on vacation. He became smitten with her when he saw her at Milford’s Soda Shop, sipping a strawberry milk shake with whipped cream and a cherry. Emma reminded him of sunshine with her honey blond hair, light blue eyes, and warm smile.”

“I bet you have her blue eyes.”

“So I’ve been told,” Ry said, then continued with the story. “My grandfather walked over to Emma and asked if he could ‘sit a spell.’ His exact words. She lowered her eyes and nodded. Sweet and shy. He ordered a double-dip vanilla ice cream cone, but was so nervous he could barely eat it. He kept wiping his face with a handkerchief.”

Beth’s heart swelled. “He was trying to impress her.”

Ry nodded. “He apparently did. After a chaperoned movie and a slow stroll on the boardwalk, Frank asked her to marry him. They’d only known each other a week. Emma’s parents returned to Ohio, and she stayed in Barefoot William. He loves her as much today as he did back then.”

Beth’s voice was barely above a whisper when she said, “Love can be unexpected.”
And hard to pin down.
Relationships were new to her. She had feelings for Rylan, yet had no idea where she stood with him. They had great sex. Had a lot in common. But never spoke of commitment. Perhaps it was too soon. Perhaps she expected too much from him.

Atlas didn’t let her dwell too long. He nudged her with his nose. The boy was hungry. She pushed off Rylan’s lap, and he let her go.

“To be continued,” he said.

 

They progressed at the same pace for the next two weeks. Beth camped at the cottage with the dogs. Rylan spent one night a week at Driftwood Inn. He’d heard from the hotel manager that his teammates kept early hours, which surprised the hell out of him. They arrived at the stadium with fewer hangovers and more focus than before.