Seven-Year Seduction (6 page)

“Wait.” When she returned her attention to his face, he continued. “I thought maybe you could help.”

Oh, no. That was too much to ask, too much to bear.

If he wanted to rip the room apart and rebuild, re-paint, remodel, it was his business. His carpentry skills were excellent, so she felt confident he wouldn't leave the room in shambles.

But she wanted nothing to do with it. Truth be told, she didn't even particularly want to know a nursery was being designed anywhere near her.

“I'd rather not,” she said, lacing her arms across her chest in a protective gesture. Already she felt chilled, goose bumps rising along her arms and neck.

“Why not? You'd be great. You could help me pick out paint colors, curtains, border paper. Not to mention the crib, changing table, that sort of thing. I'm clueless about baby stuff.”

And she was supposed to be so much more knowledgeable?

A stab of pain hit her low in the belly. She bit her lip to keep a moan from climbing its way up her throat and blinked her suddenly damp eyes.

“Don't you have to work this week?” she asked instead, hoping to divert his attention from how pale she knew her face must be.

“On and off, yeah, but this is a slow time of year for us. Nick wouldn't have agreed to take a two-week hon
eymoon if it weren't. Most of the deals we have going now are inside jobs, and our men can handle the work in my place for a few days. That's the beauty of owning your own company,” he added with a self-assured smile.

Seconds ticked by so slowly, they felt like hours. Her head ached. Her ears buzzed. If he hadn't been holding her arm, she feared she might have fallen over.

“I really need your help, Beth. I'm not sure I can do this without you, and I want to have it done before Nick and Karen come home.”

Something in his eyes seeped past her resistance. She didn't want to be involved.
Oh,
how she didn't want to be involved. But it would mean the world to Nick and Karen, Connor was right about that. And she was going to be an aunt soon. It was time to start getting used to the idea of being around a baby, whether she liked it or not.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. Her voice sounded rusty, but she forced the words past her dry lips. “All right. I guess I don't have anything better to do while I'm in town, anyway.”

He didn't seem to take offense at her answer, even though she'd been half hoping he would. A nice ugly argument was exactly what she needed to drive away cold and painful memories.

Instead, his expression brightened and he gave her a quick hug. Not enough to get her hackles up, but a light, friendly embrace to say thanks.

“The hardware store is closed on Sundays, and everywhere else will be closing soon, too, so we might
as well wait until tomorrow to go shopping for supplies. I'll start making a list right now. Wanna help?”

She shook her head. At the moment, she needed to be alone. She needed a drink and a hot bath and an hour or two to get her mind back on the present rather than wallowing in the past.

“You go ahead. I can add to it tomorrow if I think of anything you've missed.”

“Sounds good.” He gave her arm one last squeeze before heading out of the room.

“Oh, Connor,” she said, stopping him before he could disappear down the hall.

“Yeah?”

She cleared her throat before saying more, not wanting him to hear the emotion in her voice. “Some friends of mine want to get together at the Longneck Wednesday night. Since I don't have a car, while I'm in town, I was wondering if you'd mind driving me. If it's too much trouble,” she hurried on, “don't worry about it. I can always bum a ride from someone else, or rent a car between now and then.”

She'd already thought through both of those ideas and knew they weren't going to be the least convenient, but if he had other plans, she could do it.

“No problem,” he said with a shake of his head. Hitching his thumb into his front jeans pocket, he shot her a brief smile. “I haven't been to the Longneck in a while myself. It might be nice to go in to have a drink and catch up. Just let me know what time you want to leave, okay?”

She made her head move up and down in agreement, and after a moment, he left.

Beth stood where she was for several minutes, fighting back tears.

That hadn't been as hard as she'd expected, not after the punch to the gut he'd given her by asking her to help fix up and decorate a nursery.

She never should have come home. She
knew
it would be this way,
knew
bad memories and old wounds would be brought to the surface.

If only she'd gotten out of town right after the reception instead of agreeing to stay a few extra days to please her parents. If only she'd left the house as soon as she realized Connor would be staying here, too. Sleeping on the street would have been preferable to dealing with this deep, throbbing ache that seemed to take over her entire body.

And she had only herself to blame.

 

Beth waited until Connor was stretched out on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, list of supplies on his lap while he sipped a beer and watched something on the sports channel, to sneak into the kitchen for a bottle of wine.

Tiptoeing back upstairs, she shut herself into the bathroom and started drawing a bath. She poured a generous amount of bubble bath into the stream of roaring water and then started to undress as the small room filled with the scent of lavender.

Once she was nude, she poured a glass of the rich red claret, set it on the rim of the tub, leaving the bottle within reach, and stepped inside the foaming, steaming water.

Ah, heaven, she thought as she turned off the water and slipped beneath its heady spell. A good bubble bath went a long way toward curing life's ills.

Unfortunately, it didn't go quite far enough tonight. She would need a lot more bubbles and a lot more wine to block out the memories her latest encounter with Connor had stirred up.

No.
She wasn't going to think about that. Not anymore, not right now. This time was for healing, forgetting.

Taking another drink of wine, she leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, closed her eyes and tried to think of anything other than what weighed heaviest on her heart.

She thought about her brother's wedding, and how happy he and Karen had both looked while saying their vows. She thought about her parents' excited faces each time she stepped off the plane after being away for so long, often more than a year.

She thought about all the work that awaited when she got back to Los Angeles. Contracts to go over, phone calls to return, and likely a few high-strung celebrities to calm down.

The more her mind wandered to work issues, the sleepier she got, until her muscles began to relax and she could feel herself starting to fall asleep.

And then the funniest thing happened. Just before she drifted off completely, Connor's face played across her subconscious and pulled the lid right off of everything she'd been fighting so hard to keep under wraps.

S
he was twenty-one again and a senior in college—old enough to drink but young enough to still feel carefree and invincible
.

Most importantly, though, she was in love. And finally, after so many years of wishing and dreaming, she was pretty sure he was in love with her, too
.

She'd gone home to Crystal Springs for the weekend, to visit her parents, and ended up going to a home-town football game with them, her brother and Connor. Afterward, she and Connor had gone off by themselves and ended up making love. Her first time and in the cab of his pickup, but as far as she was concerned, it had been absolutely perfect.

She'd been smiling ever since. Even her friends at
school had noticed and asked her about it, pressuring her for details
.

But she wouldn't tell them, at least not yet. The entire experience was too new to her. Too special. Too private. It was something that only she and Connor shared, and she wanted to keep it that way a while longer
.

A few days after she'd returned to school from her weekend home, though, her happiness began to fade. She'd expected Connor to call, but he hadn't.

The next time she phoned her parents, she'd even asked to talk to her brother and tried to subtly feel him out about his best friend. Had they seen each other or talked since she'd been home? Had Connor mentioned her at all? But her brother didn't seem to know anything and she hadn't wanted him to grow suspicious.

Connor would call; she was just too giddy and anxious to hear from him. In another day or two, he would call
.

But the days passed, turning into weeks, and she never heard from him. Not a phone call, not an e-mail, not a short message passed to her through her family. Nothing.

And then she started getting sick. She didn't think much of it at first. A flu bug was going around campus and everyone seemed to be catching it, so she wasn't surprised when she started feeling ill like many of her friends.

Until her virus wouldn't seem to go away. Everyone else got better, but she still felt terrible. She also noticed that she was sick every morning, but started to
feel better by the afternoon. By the time she realized she'd missed a period, she was already pretty sure she knew what was wrong.

She was pregnant.

With Connor's baby
.

At first she was petrified. She was in her last year of law school…how was she ever going to reach graduation and be able to practice law when she was hugely pregnant or caring for a newborn? How would she tell Connor? What would her parents say when they found out?

So many thoughts and fears raced through her head, jumbling together until her nausea grew.

But what if motherhood was wonderful? What if Connor was delighted that he was going to be a father and proposed on the spot?

They could marry and move into a small house in Crystal Springs. She could do her best to finish school before the baby was born and worry about finding a job at a local law firm later.

The situation might not be ideal, but it could work. And her greatest ambition had always been to marry Connor and have a family with him…so what if they were starting a little early and doing things out of order?

Yes, everything would work out just fine. She would make plans to get home again soon and tell Connor in person.

Then, too, he could explain to her why he hadn't called since the night they spent together up at Makeout Point. She was sure he had a logical explanation and hadn't simply been ignoring her.

That thought kept her spirits up for the next two weeks while she struggled through the first month of pregnancy without letting anyone know what was really going on. It wasn't easy to keep her condition a secret, especially from her roommate, but she managed.

She was getting dressed for class one morning when the cramping began. The sensation was so dull and passed so quickly that she didn't think much of it. An hour later, though, after she'd returned from class, the cramping was much worse, and she knew something was seriously wrong. She went to the bathroom, only to find blood spotting her panties.

At that point, she didn't care who knew about her pregnancy. In tears, she'd gone to her roommate and begged her to help her get to the hospital.

But it was too late. She'd lost the baby.

She cried for weeks afterward. Her grades started to slip because of so many missed classes and exams, but no matter what her friends said or did to try to help her snap out of her depression, she remained inconsolable
.

Not only that, but she began to harbor a deep resentment toward Connor, who she blamed for everything she'd been through.

He'd taken her virginity without a backward glance and left her to deal with the repercussions on her own. They'd known each other nearly all their lives, but she hadn't even warranted a phone call after they'd slept together.

Had he even once considered that she might get
pregnant and need his support? Of course not. Typical man—out for his own pleasure and to hell with the consequences
.

And even though she hadn't gotten the chance to tell him about the baby, she blamed him for the miscarriage, too. If he'd called or driven up to the university to visit even once after they'd had sex, he would have known and they could have begun making plans together.

She might have moved back home with him and not had to keep to a hectic class schedule that wore her out and increased her stress level. Or he might have been with her when the first cramp hit and driven her to the doctor in time for the baby to be saved. Either way, she felt certain that the situation would have turned out differently if he had made any effort to contact her after their night together.

Even if she had still lost the baby, they could have grieved together, healed together, made plans to have another baby somewhere down the road.

Instead, she was alone and hurting, and it was all Connor's fault.

 

A sharp rap on the door jarred her awake. She sat up with a jerk, sending now-cool, bubbleless water sloshing over the edge of the tub.

Her face, she realized, was streaked with tears. Even in her sleep, she'd grieved for the child she'd lost all those years ago.

“Beth, you okay in there?”

Connor's voice permeated her still-sluggish brain,
adding the residual emotions causing her heart to ache. A wounded moan trembled from her lips and she covered her mouth to keep from being heard.

Pushing to her feet, she grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall and wrapped it around her naked torso. Rivulets of water sluiced down her skin, dripping onto the mat on the floor as she quickly patted herself dry.

“Beth?”

“Yes, I'm fine,” she called out, embarrassed to be caught sleeping, dreaming, sobbing in the tub.

“You've been in there for quite a while, and I heard you cry out. Are you sure you're all right?”

Making sure to dry her face and remove any sign that she'd been weeping, she tucked the ends of the towel above her breasts and opened the bathroom door a crack. She made herself give him a small smile as their gazes met.

“I'm fine, Connor, really. I must have dozed off in the tub.”

“You look a little pale,” he pointed out, studying her from head to toe as much as he could through the narrow opening.

“I've been sitting in cold water too long, I guess,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “I'm all pruny.”

His eyes went dark at that, his lips thinning slightly.

“If you're sure you're okay…”

“I am, thank you. I'll be out in just a minute, in case you need to use the bathroom.”

“No, I'm good,” he said in a low tone. “I was just worried about you.”

She didn't know what to say to that, and was afraid
she wouldn't be able to speak past the lump growing in her throat, so she merely nodded with downcast eyes and closed the bathroom door with a click.

Ten minutes later, she emerged with her hair freshly combed, wearing a short satin nightgown with matching sunflower yellow robe. Her feet were bare as she padded down the hardwood hallway and stairs, wineglass and bottle in hand.

Surprisingly, she was feeling better than when she'd first been startled awake from her dream…or maybe it had been more of a series of relived memories. Lord knew it was all true and had happened to her seven years before.

She tried not to think about those times any more than she had to, but being home and so near Connor muddied the waters and made it almost impossible to deny the past.

Still, it had been nice of Connor to check on her, to be worried about her. And for once, she hadn't snapped at him or thrown up her ice-princess veneer.

Being in Crystal Springs again reminded her of the kind, innocent girl she used to be. She hadn't had much of a chance to be either kind or innocent lately. Polite, civil, professional…but not naturally, sincerely, down-home pleasant.

Detouring through the kitchen, she retrieved a second wineglass, then headed for the living room, where Connor was once again propped on the couch watching television.

She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to talk with him. She could just as easily have gone to her room and
avoided him until morning. But for once, her dreams or memories or whatever they were about the pregnancy and miscarriage didn't make her hate him more. For the first time, it occurred to her that she'd piled an awful lot of blame at his feet.

Yes, he'd gotten her pregnant. Yes, he'd failed to call afterward, which she still thought he should have done. But in the same vein, she could have just as easily called him—and should have after she realized that their night together had resulted in a baby.

And because he hadn't known, he really didn't bear any responsibility for the loss of that baby or for the roller-coaster ride her emotions took because of it.

She wasn't ready to tell him about the pregnancy and miscarriage…not now, maybe not ever…but it wouldn't hurt to sit and talk with him a bit. She hadn't exactly been Sister Mary Sunshine since they'd gotten stuck together in her brother's house.

He watched her cross the carpeted floor with hooded eyes, but to his credit, his gaze never wandered to her legs, bare from a little above midthigh down. As she took a seat on the sofa beside him, setting the long-stemmed glasses on the low coffee table, he sat up and cleared his throat.

“So what do you think—pizza for supper? I was just going to call one in.”

She nodded, pouring them each a healthy portion of wine. “Sounds good to me.”

Pushing himself up from the couch, he set his beer aside and sauntered to the phone. Her mood was just generous enough that she watched him walking away
and appreciated the view. My, he really did fill out a pair of jeans nicely.

He dialed the local pizza place and ordered a large pie, then covered the mouthpiece and asked, “I'm getting the works on my half, what do you want on yours?”

She shouldn't, but she said, “The same.” She'd make up for it later…maybe get up early in the morning and go running, regardless of the weather.

“Make that one large with everything,” he told the person on the other end, then gave his name and directions to the house.

Once that was done, he moved back to the sofa and reached for his beer, but she handed him a glass of wine instead.

He eyed her warily for a moment before accepting the dark claret. No doubt he was wondering if she'd slipped some sort of poison into his drink. Considering her attitude so far this week, she couldn't blame him.

“What's the occasion?” he asked, taking a small sip.

She leaned back against the overstuffed cushions, balancing her painted toes on the edge of the coffee table, mimicking Connor's relaxed pose.

“Nothing special. I just thought it was awfully nice of you to worry about me when I disappeared into the bathroom for so long, and I wanted to thank you.”

“It wouldn't do for my best friend to come home from his honeymoon and discover I'd let his little sister drown,” he quipped.

She grinned. “No, I guess it wouldn't. Although, after the way I've treated you since discovering we'd both be staying here for a few days, I'm surprised you didn't come in and try to hold me under.”

One side of his mouth quirked up at that. “Thought about it. Didn't want a criminal record.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Time passed while they enjoyed their wine, the only sound in the room coming from the low volume of the television, playing a family sitcom.

The calm serenity of the moment washed over her. She hadn't felt this way in far too long…weightless, almost light-headed, without a care in the world. It was a far cry from her life back in L.A., where she had to keep on her toes and almost every waking moment was filled with tension.

She never got to sit and just unwind. Or if she did, it was alone, not in the company of a handsome, average, everyday guy who preferred beer to martinis and pizza to nouveau cuisine. It was comforting to know Connor didn't care what she was wearing, whether her makeup was flawless, or every strand of hair was in place.

As desperately as she'd been avoiding him for nearly a decade, she had to admit she could be herself around him. He'd seen her with scraped knees and gum in her hair. Sobbing her heart out when her pet cat had been killed by a car. While her eyes were red and swollen, her nose running, he'd helped her bury Zoey in the backyard. He'd even seen her throw up macaroni and cheese in the school cafeteria when she was nine, and had been the
only student other than her brother not laughing, pointing or making gross gagging noises. Instead, he'd put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the nurse's office, waiting with her until her mom came to pick her up.