Project: Runaway Bride (12 page)

Lily’s brows dipped. “That’s it? You told him you were pregnant and all he said was ‘okay’?”

Juliet rolled a shoulder, pretending her sister’s frank assessment of the situation didn’t bother her. “Pretty much. I don’t want him to feel trapped, and I’m not going to marry him just because I’m pregnant.”

It was Zoe’s turn to furrow her brow. “He asked you to marry him?”

Clearing her throat, Juliet avoided her sisters’ too-sharp scrutiny and leaned forward to retrieve her glass of soda. Taking a small sip, she said, “Yes, but I turned him down. He only did it out of obligation, and I’m nowhere near ready to try to make it down the aisle again for all the wrong reasons.”

That little revelation was met with silence as her sisters exchanged looks, but neither of them challenged her or tried to change her mind. A moment later, Lily nodded and Zoe reached out to pat Juliet’s knee.

“Whatever you need, however you want to handle this, we’re here for you,” Lily told her.

“And ohmigosh, we’re going to be
aunts!
” Zoe practically shrieked, bouncing up and down on the sofa cushion.

There was another long stretch of laughter and talk of whether the baby would be a boy or a girl, nursery colors and themes and the like. Then, as they all filled their plates with a second slice of pizza, Juliet turned the conversation to serious matters once again.

“Did Mom and Dad go home after the wedding was called off?” she asked.

“They stuck around for a while,” Lily answered, “until we heard from Reid that he’d located you and you were safe. They weren’t thrilled when he wouldn’t say where you were, but we told them we’d stay on top of things and keep them informed along the way. That was enough to convince them to go back to Connecticut, but they call every single day to see if we’ve heard anything new from or about you.”

The icky, oily feeling of guilt slid through Juliet, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. “I need to go up there and see them. Apologize.” Lifting her head, she sighed. “I should talk to Paul, too.”

“You don’t owe him anything,” Zoe snapped, anger lighting her blue eyes.

Lily’s own protective frown was nearly a mirror image of their younger sister’s. “I agree. He deserves a good, swift kick to the you-know-what, not an apology.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” Juliet murmured. “I should have broken things off with him so much sooner.”

“The minute he laid a finger on you,” Zoe grumbled.

“Absolutely,” Juliet conceded, still wondering why she hadn’t. “And stuck to the decision the first time I told him I didn’t want to marry him instead of convincing myself to give him another chance. But leaving him at the altar was a lousy thing to do. I feel like I should at least see him face-to-face and tell him I’m sorry for any embarrassment I caused.”

“Humph,” Zoe huffed.

“If you’re set on doing that,” Lily said, “I think one of us should go with you.”

“I’ll do it!” Zoe declared with a bounce. “I’ve got nothing better to do, but somebody needs to stay here and take care of the store, and Nigel is flying in from Los Angeles soon, so I know you’ll want to be here for that,” she said to Lily.

Then she wiggled her brows and shot Lily a teasing grin. “Just think—you’ll have the whole loft to yourselves.”

“Well, that certainly would be nice,” Lily replied with a smile and a faint hint of color rising to her cheeks.

Rolling her eyes in amusement, Zoe said, “Do me a favor, though—Lysol any public surfaces when you’re done. I don’t need to eat my corn flakes at the kitchen island knowing my soon-to-be brother-in-law’s bare butt was on it first.”

Eleven

I
f there was one thing Reid excelled at, it was compartmentalizing. He had no problem waking up in the morning, getting dressed and ready and heading into the office. He had no problem putting his head down and focusing on work all day, not letting a single thought of Juliet or the baby throw him off his stride.

It was only once he returned home to his big, quiet, empty brownstone that he lacked enough distractions to keep those thoughts from popping straight to the forefront of his brain and taking up residence like characters on a movie screen.

There was no fire in the hearth of his study, but that didn’t keep him from taking a seat in front of it and cracking open a fresh bottle of scotch while he stared at the unlit logs and let the liquor’s heat kick down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. At the rate he was going with this evening ritual of his, he figured he might have to buy stock in his favorite drink manufacturer or acquire a distillery and start making his own.

He remembered another night spent in this room not so very long ago. There had been a fire blazing bright in the fireplace then, snow falling lightly outside, but instead of scotch, they’d been drinking wine.

It had been one of the nights he and Juliet had agreed to meet after work in secret, even though she’d already called off her engagement. There was no reason to sneak around any longer, but she’d insisted.

She’d arrived by taxi, wearing a long coat, hat, a scarf and a pair of dark, large-rimmed sunglasses similar to the ones he’d bought for her to wear to the doctor’s office even though they were hardly needed on a dreary winter evening. He’d met her on the stoop, sweeping her inside and into his arms for a deep, mouthwatering kiss. Kicking the door closed with his foot, he’d lifted her up Rhett Butler–style and carried her to his room, never taking his lips from hers.

They’d made love fast and furiously that first time. Hot and desperate and passionate. Hell, maybe it had been even twice...as much as they’d tangled up the sheets and steamed up the windows, and as many times as they’d rolled around, switching places, lingered and then started over, the exact details were a little blurry.

What was crystal clear in his mind, however, was the silken smoothness of Juliet’s flesh beneath his hands and mouth. The musky floral scent of her perfume and hair and natural essence. The way she felt in his arms and how
he
felt when he was with her, inside her, lying next to her in the aftermath.

And he remembered how comfortable he’d been with her even when they weren’t making love. Talking on the phone late at night when no one else was around, or hearing her voice over his office line in the middle of the day. Sitting across from her at his kitchen table while they raided the refrigerator to fill their bellies after the rest of their bodies were thoroughly sated.

Which was how they’d ended up in his study, sharing a bottle of wine in front of the fireplace. As though it were yesterday, he remembered the ivory camisole and panty set she’d been wearing beneath one of his wrinkled dress shirts, and the black silk pajama bottoms he’d stepped into before they’d come downstairs.

After grabbing something to eat, he’d collected the wine and their glasses and carried them into the study, where he’d found a spot on the rug in front of the fire and sat with his back against the base of one of the leather armchairs. Juliet had waited while he poured more of the rich chardonnay, then lowered herself into the crook of his legs.

She’d snuggled back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, and it had been the most natural thing in the world to bring his arms up and wrap them around her waist.

He didn’t know how long they stayed that way, simply enjoying the silence, the crackle of the hearth, the occasional sip of wine and each other. As far as he was concerned, everything had been just about perfect. He’d even been thinking that he wouldn’t mind having Juliet around more, maybe on a permanent kind of basis.

That wasn’t something he’d considered since Valerie had walked away with their child. He’d dated, had numerous short-term affairs, but never once had the idea of making any one of those relationships long-term crossed his mind.

Then came Juliet. The wrong woman at the wrong time. Rife with conflict and secrets and lies. Yet he couldn’t seem to stay away from her.

So maybe he shouldn’t try. She was the one woman he could actually see himself spending the rest of his life with, so maybe it was time to cut out the minutiae. Maybe it was time to look beyond his past, her present, all the things that kept them apart on paper. In reality, it was probably only a matter of reprioritizing and deciding that this—whatever it was between them—was worth fighting for.

He cleared his throat, shifted slightly, preparing himself for the whole we-need-to-talk, let’s-take-the-next-big-step speech when Juliet twisted sideways in his lap so that her legs draped over his half-bare thigh. He moved with her, adjusting to the new position with a raised knee and one arm behind her back. She rested against them, easy and comfortable.

“Reid,” she said softly.

“Mmm-hmm?”

He knew what he wanted to say to her—well, in general terms, if not the exact wording—but if she had something on her mind, he was happy to talk about that first. Maybe it would buy him some time and help him get his own thoughts in order.

She took a deep breath, one he felt shudder through her delicate frame, and he held her closer, rubbing her arms in case she was growing chilled.

Without looking at him, she said, “You can’t know how much all of this has meant to me. Being here with you, spending time together.”

He tightened his hold on her even more. She might be getting cold, sitting on the floor in little more than her underwear, despite the fire burning only a few feet away, but he was rapidly growing warm with contentment.

Sadly, the sensation didn’t last long.

“But I can’t see you anymore,” she added, dousing him with the verbal equivalent of a cold shower in Antarctica.

“I’m sorry,” she said, twisting to face him while he sat as still as a marble statue. “We knew this was only temporary and probably shouldn’t have started in the first place. It’s time to stop.”

Shock and numbness gave way to understanding and the white-hot charge of anger. “You’re going through with it, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“The wedding. To that jackass.”

Juliet pulled away, climbing carefully to her feet. “No, that’s not what this is about.”

“Really?” he asked sharply, disbelief evident in his tone. He pushed himself to his feet, standing mere inches from her. He wanted to reach out and grab her, but curled his hands into fists at his side instead, afraid he might shake her if he touched her at all. Either that or kiss her stupid so she would stop all this nonsense talk about leaving.

“Of course not. It’s not a contest, Reid. If it were, you would have won. I called off the wedding and broke up with Paul to be with you these past several weeks.”

“And now you’re breaking up with me.”

“What do you want from me, Reid? I told you from the beginning that we couldn’t let this get serious. What would people think if they found out I’ve been spending all this time with you when I still haven’t made it public that I broke the engagement with Paul? As far as my friends and family are concerned, they’re just waiting for the invitations to arrive.”

“So you’re ashamed to let anyone know you’re involved with me,” he bit out with no small amount of bitterness.

“No!” With a huff, she put her hands on her hips. “For heaven’s sake, it doesn’t have anything to do with you. Not really. It’s...the timing, and...everyone’s expectations.”

She paused and took a deep breath, her chest lifting beneath his unbuttoned shirt and the silky material of her camisole. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost apologetic.

“My entire life, I’ve always done what my parents asked me to, what they expected of me. Zoe has always been a wild child, Lily is a free spirit, but I was their ‘good little girl.’ Maybe because I’m the eldest, I don’t know. But you have no idea how hard it was for me to work up the courage to quit my job in Connecticut and move here to work with Lily designing handbags. I was terrified of disappointing my mom and dad. And even though they accepted the decision, I don’t think they were very happy about it, which just made me feel more guilty.”

She sighed. “I haven’t even told my parents yet that I called off the wedding. They’re going to be furious, and can you imagine how much worse it will be if they find out I’ve been playing house with you while I’m
supposed
to be preparing to walk down the aisle with Paul?”

Shaking her head, she wiped her palms nervously down the outsides of her bare thighs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with it. If things were different... If we’d met and started our little tryst months after Paul and I were history, it wouldn’t be so bad. But I can’t deal with them doing the math and figuring out that we hooked up before my broken engagement was even cold...or worse yet, the truth—that the engagement wasn’t quite as broken as it should have been when we started seeing each other.”

Her hands stopped moving against her thighs and she crossed her arms, hugging herself. He watched the muscles of her throat roll as she swallowed. “Maybe later, after things settle down,” she said barely above a whisper, “we could reassess and start seeing each other again. We could try for normal instead of sneaking around.”

Reid scowled, remaining deathly still where he sat on the floor for fear of what he might do if he stood up. “Don’t do me any favors.”

The color leeched from her face. “Please don’t be like that. You knew this is how things would end,” she told him quietly, her light blue eyes apologetic but determined. “And I don’t want to spend our last moments together fighting.”

It was the
please
that did it. The
please
that got him to bite his tongue. To remain silent instead of raging about the bad decision she was getting ready to make or the kick to the gut she’d delivered just as he was prepared to bare his soul and ask her to stay with
him
. Good thing she’d stopped him before he’d put that foot in his mouth, wasn’t it?

The silence that filled the room was so heavy it was almost painful to bear. But he knew if he opened his mouth to say anything, it would be something he’d live to regret. So he kept his lips pressed tight, teeth clenched so hard he was afraid they might snap.

After a while, when she realized he wasn’t going to say anything more, Juliet dropped her arms, shoulders following suit as she sighed. Without a word, she shrugged out of his shirt and draped it carefully over the back of the armchair, then lowered her chin and padded quietly out of the room.

For all he knew, she’d been pregnant even then. Looking back, he shouldn’t have let her go. He should have gone after her, continued to fight, hashed it out with her once and for all until she saw reason and decided to stay with him.

But he hadn’t. He’d stood there in the study, listening as she climbed the stairs to the bedroom, where she’d gotten dressed and collected the few items she had at his place, then come back downstairs and walked out.

Out of his house, out of his life...but never quite out of his mind. Or his heart.

* * *

What little light reached him from the lamp on his desk glinted off the amber liquid in the highball glass in his hand as he shook off the clinging bleakness of the memory. Reid turned it this way and that, playing with the different facets and angles.

Having Valerie walk out on him all those years ago had been painful. He’d felt as though the rug had been yanked out from under him because he’d let himself make plans. Plans to marry her, settle down, start a family. All in the natural order, things going along as he’d always expected them to.

But even then, the worst part had been the loss of his child. A child he’d never met, but who’d still left a tiny hole in his soul when he was taken away. He hadn’t known for years that the child had been born and was out there somewhere, being raised by another man. But that only changed the sense of loss; it didn’t necessarily make it better or worse.

Now, though, there was an ache in his chest that just wouldn’t go away. It had started the night Juliet told them they were through and walked out of his life...he’d thought forever. The moment he’d realized she was no longer going to be in his life. Filling his house with her soft voice and feminine laughter. Giving him something—some
one—
to look forward to at the end of the day, somebody significant to talk with and confide in about more than business and the weather.

The ache was still there when he’d tracked her down at her family’s lake house, though he’d done his best to hide it, ignore it, spackle over it so the pressure didn’t weigh him down and keep him from functioning.

Then she’d told him she was pregnant, and the steady throb had changed to something warm and comforting. Almost like...hope. He was getting a second chance at all those things he’d given up on so many years ago.

He was also getting a second chance to be with Juliet, which he’d wanted all along.

But the ache was sharper now. Vast, throbbing, worse than ever. And somehow he couldn’t see it going away or getting better over time. This time, he was pretty sure the trauma was permanent.

Because—as it had clearly taken him much too long to acknowledge, even to himself—she
mattered
to him. With or without a baby between them, it was Juliet who’d strolled in and changed the status quo. She’d changed
him—
inside and out.

A beat passed. Another flicker of light across the surface of his scotch. Another jolt of heat from his throat to his stomach as he threw back the liquor and contemplated pouring another.

He’d thought he could forget her, put the fevered passion of their affair behind him and go back to his normal, quiet life. The problem was, he didn’t want to put it behind him this time or pretend it didn’t bother him. He didn’t want to let Juliet go or see his child only on weekends.