Sugar Creek (26 page)

“Good,” was the only word he got out.

As his eyes fell shut, Rachel lifted her hand to touch his bare shoulder where he lay across her chest; she turned to peer at his face in the semi-darkness. And she suffered the full measure of just how very
joined
she felt to him. It was almost painful. Wrenching. Like if she made love to him day and night for the rest of her life, it would never be enough—she’d always want more. Then her own eyes fell shut—because they kind of ached, felt strange. She clenched her teeth. What was going on here?

And then she realized. She was crying a little.

She hadn’t recognized it because she
never
cried.
Ever
. Not since she was a kid.

Damn it—what the hell was
that
about?

Reaching up, she turned her face away from his and quickly wiped the wetness away. How weird. And she was trapped between not being sure she liked it, not at all—and how oddly caught up in the moment she still felt, how strangely consumed by the intimacy. She lay in the darkness, looking into the shadows of the room, of his home, his life, amazed she’d ended up here—naked beneath Mike Romo. Or in Destiny at all, for that matter.

A few minutes later, Mike’s weight lifted off her and then a light came on.

When she peeked up, she found him looking down at her from the foot of the couch. He remained beautifully naked, but his eyes clouded over a little. “What’s going on? You okay?”

Oh, shit. There was still a pesky tear or two leaking free.

She tried to blink it away, then said, “Just…something in my eye.”

Mike tilted his head. “Are you serious, Farris—something in your eye? Could that answer be any more lame?”

She let out a sigh,
feeling
pretty lame, and not the least bit surprised her Officer Romeo had called her on it. “Okay, I was just thinking…about Edna,” she fudged, sitting up a little to prop her head on some throw pillows.

Mike’s gaze narrowed in concern. “What about her? She isn’t sick or anything?”

“Oh—no, nothing like that.” She pursed her lips, pondering it. “It’s just…I think her knees cause her a lot of pain. And even as sturdy and hardworking as she is, she’s…getting older, slower—I can see it.”

Mike came around the end of the couch and used one hand to lift up her ankles and take a seat beneath them, lowering her feet atop his firm thigh. “Hard to watch them age, isn’t it?” he asked.

And she nodded. “There’s even a part of me that keeps thinking maybe I should find a way to take over the orchard, just to keep it in the family…but I can’t. I have a job to go back to. It’s not something I could just give up.” She shook her head against the pillows and realized as the words spilled from her that they were all true—this was just the first time she’d allowed herself to fully acknowledge the feelings. That if she didn’t feel so bound by other commitments, maybe she
would
want the orchard.

“Would it be so horrible,” Mike asked, his tone uncharacteristically gentle, “if the orchard ended up with me? I’d take good care of it.”

“I know you would,” she admitted. “But it would just be…the end of an era. It would feel wrong to me for the Farris name to no longer be attached to it. Your grandpa might have built it, but
I
played there, I had holidays and Sunday dinner there, I grew up there. So did all my cousins, and my dad, and my aunts and uncles. It’s really…home to us.” And God, that was when it hit her—she hadn’t known she felt that way until right now. Until this moment, her home had been in Chicago—but now, suddenly, home was the orchard. She’d been trying to hate Destiny since she came back, but she just didn’t anymore.

“So if you want it so bad,” he asked, looking down at her, “why
can’t
you give up your job? I know the orchard isn’t the most profitable business around, but it
could
be, with a little modernization.”

“I know.” She nodded. “I think the same thing, but Edna refuses to hear it.”

“And I’m betting you have enough money socked away that you wouldn’t have to worry about starving in the meantime.”

How strange it was to be lying stretched out naked on Mike Romo’s couch, chatting with him as easily as if they were dressed. But the topic he’d just broached was…complicated at best. And how strange it felt to realize…she was going to tell him the truth, the truth even Tessa and Amy didn’t know. But for some reason, she needed
him
to know.

“You’re right, I’m doing fine on money,” she said. “But the rest of my family…not so much.”

It was an awkward thing to say, and Mike didn’t respond, so Rachel tried to go on. Except it was difficult, being the topic she least liked to think about. Finally, she
took a deep breath and said, “Some of them have kept it camouflaged, and others haven’t, but either way, most Farrises don’t handle money well. I became aware of it at an early age, and I’ve spent my whole life being embarrassed and worried by it.”

“Embarrassed?” he asked, looking truly perplexed.

She sighed. “My great aunt Liddie and her famous bad checks?” she reminded him. “My cousin Robby always borrowing money from people he can’t pay back? And then there was Uncle Gary’s insurance fraud—the time he parked his Trans Am on the railroad tracks because he couldn’t make the payments? Do I have to go on?”

He appeared to be making a stab at a sympathetic smile. “Okay, guess I do remember those things.”

“And don’t forget what you said when we first met—about Farrises not abiding by the law.”

He looked slightly remorseful. “I wouldn’t have said that if I’d known you and I would ever end up…like this.” He motioned vaguely to their bodies.

“Well, I’m just saying that when the whole town thinks of your family that way, it’s hard. Especially when you’re just a kid, growing up.”

“So…what, then? You’ve got some phobia about going broke and being forced to put your Beamer in the path of an oncoming train?”

“Well, in a way, maybe. Not the train part, but the going-broke part. I always knew I wanted to leave Destiny and lead a different kind of life—and I guess a lot of that was about money worries. I knew if I didn’t get out of this town I’d never be any more than another scrambling-to-make-ends-meet Farris. And I didn’t want to live like that. And I guess I also wanted to fix it all somehow, by making them all proud, and…maybe even by covering up their shortcomings. So…it’s not just me I’m worried about.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What does
that
mean?”

And Rachel sighed. This part was even harder to confide. She wasn’t sure why—maybe because it felt so personal to her, like a scarlet letter she was forced to wear but kept hidden. Or maybe she feared it was a betrayal to her parents to talk about this—especially with a Romo. But she still wanted to tell him. Maybe she wanted to get it off her chest.

“The money issues,” she began again, “stretch into my immediate family. My parents never let it show, but they’ve secretly always been in debt. Even now, they have a nice house not far from me, in the suburbs, and they lease a new car every two years—but they’re so over-extended that I get sick just thinking about it. And someday, it’s gonna come back to haunt them in a big way.” She sighed. “Or should I say haunt
me
?”

She blinked, still somewhat embarrassed, and wondering if he got the picture yet. “The point is, when my parents or Edna reach some critical point where they really
can’t
get by anymore, who’s gonna be there to keep a roof over their heads?”

Mike raised his eyebrows. “You, I’m guessing?”

She sighed. “Right.”

He knit his brow. “What exactly is it you do in your job, Farris, that makes you able to provide for the entire Farris clan?”

“I’ve told you before, I work at an ad agency.”

“Making up slogans and stuff?”

“Not anymore. I started out on the creative end, but then I was promoted and now I manage a team of people and bring in new clients and try to keep them convinced that we’re the best place to invest their advertising dollars. I kind of miss the creative work sometimes, but then…I’m usually so busy that I don’t have
time
to miss it.”

“So, do you love what you do? Is it important to you? Satisfying?”

“Yes, yes, and yes. It’s…it’s…the life I always dreamed
of.” But…why had that last part come out sounding so halfhearted? It
was
the life she’d dreamed of.

“You know, it’s none of my business, but…” He trailed off.

“What? Spit it out.”

“Well, that’s an awful damn big burden to put on yourself. To hold yourself responsible for cleaning up other people’s messes. I have a hard enough time just trying to clean up my own.”

She wondered if he was talking about the loss of his little sister, but simply pointed out, “Not just
other people
. My
family
. I might be embarrassed by them sometimes, but at the same time, I want…to protect them. I wish I could make it so no one would be able to look down on them anymore. I wish I could just…restore a little pride to the Farris name.” Rachel’s last words lingered in the air, then settled around her. Maybe she hadn’t quite realized the last part before now, before talking about it, out loud.

“I get it,” Mike finally said. “I know about feeling responsible to your family. But…still. It’s a lot to ask of yourself.”

“Well, just so you know, that’s not the only reason I can’t leave Chicago for the orchard. What I’ve created there is…how I know I’ve done well in life. It’s such a huge part of me that without it…”

“Yeah?”

She let out a breath. “There wouldn’t be much of me left. Just…a little girl who worries about her family’s money problems and wants to be strong and independent someday.”

Mike’s eyes fell half shut as he gazed thoughtfully down on her. “That’s not true, honey. Surely you know there’s a lot more inside you than that—I’ve seen it myself.”

Oh crap. What had she just said? Way too much, that was for sure. And it made her want to cry all over again.
But it also reminded her—she
was
strong and independent, and it was time to resume acting like it. So she took a deep breath, felt tougher inside—and decided to end this particular conversation. “Listen,” she said, “everything I just told you—promise you’ll keep it to yourself. Edna would be mortified—we’ve never even talked about this. And besides, it’s just…personal, you know?”

“No worries,” he replied, caressing her calf. “My Farris grudge only goes so far. And lately, that hasn’t been very far at all.” He winked, lightening the mood—and she replied with a soft smile.

Then she said, “Got anything to eat? You cheated me out of the Whippy Dip.”

Reaching in a drawer, Mike grabbed an old Steelers T-shirt for Rachel to wear, then hopped in the shower. She volunteered to put their clothes in the washer in the meantime—his dirt from the ballfield had managed to get everything a little grimy, including her top and jeans.

When he came out in a clean blue tee and a pair of gray sweats cut off to make shorts, she took his spot in the bathroom and he headed to the kitchen to see what he could find.

“Aha,” he whispered, opening the fridge to see some leftover lasagna he’d forgotten about. He’d had dinner at Grandma Romo’s with his parents a couple of nights ago, before they’d headed back to Florida, and she’d sent the whole pan home with him.

As he put two slabs on plates, then stuck them in the microwave, he remembered the conversation around his grandma’s dinner table. About Rachel.

“I thought she was very nice,” his mother had said with a bright smile.

“For a Farris,” Grandma Romo had added.

His mother had leaned toward him. “Is it serious?”

“No,” he’d quickly answered—then remembered the
whole reason he’d taken her there, to make his parents think he was doing the wife-shopping thing. “Not yet anyway,” he’d added on a bit of a cough.

It had felt weird even having the conversation—because Mike had never really
had
a serious girlfriend, except for one back around his police academy days who had been so clingy and hard to break up with that he’d pretty much sworn them off ever since. And it also felt weird because of Mike’s…feelings for Rachel. She stole his sense of control, which he hated. But he’d liked it a lot when she’d hugged him so tight after she came. And the very scent of her was still enough to excite him. And he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her, no matter
what
he hated or liked about the situation. The whole thing was getting a little scary to contemplate.

He let out a quiet laugh. Mike Romo, scared. Most people wouldn’t believe it. Most people thought the losses in his life had turned him tough and mean. But maybe he was tough and mean because…he didn’t want to lose any
more
. And if you didn’t let yourself start caring about people, then you couldn’t lose them. A long sigh escaped him.

Then he just shook his head.
Follow your own advice. Don’t take things so seriously. Move on here. Have a nice night with her.

“Good idea,” he murmured.

Mike wasn’t a big wine drinker, but when he spotted the bottle in the back of his fridge that one of his cousins had given him last Christmas, he grabbed it and dug through a messy drawer for a corkscrew. Then he found the wineglasses his parents had left behind in the house when they moved and washed two of them out.

Next, he looked to his small kitchen table. It was old, walnut, chipped in places, and atop it sat a wicker napkin basket and the little football-shaped salt and pepper shakers his mom had given him a few years ago. It hit him
then that, shit, if not for his family, he wouldn’t have anything in this house, not even food.

Regardless, the table just wasn’t cutting it. So he opened a drawer and found a red-and-white-checked tablecloth—something else his parents had left behind, of course, and he was thankful. After trying to shake the fold marks from it, he draped it across the wood and didn’t bother putting the salt and pepper shakers back on. He folded a couple of the paper napkins in half and laid forks and knives on them in front of two chairs—and even pulled the additional chairs away, out into the living room.