Summer Temptation (Hot in the Hamptons Book 2) (13 page)

“But—” he tried.

“Please don’t.” I cut him off, feeling tears gathering in my eyes. “Kiss me.” I grabbed his T-shirt and pulled his upper body on top of me. When his lips touched mine, worry, sadness and dread disappeared. When his hands caressed my body, I felt beautiful and sexy and desirable. “Make love to me.”
Give me memories I will treasure forever
.

And right there, beneath the starry sky, by the side of the pool, he did.

Nick

T
wo days.

I hadn’t seen or heard from Leigh in two whole days, despite sending her dozens of texts and snap chats and leaving a bunch of messages on her voicemail.

Just before noon on what would be day three, I steered my car into Storme’s driveway, knowing something was wrong.

Upon seeing Leigh’s two friends arguing up by the garage, Storme carrying a suitcase, I could tell my suspicions were correct. When they saw me, they froze.

I parked and got out of my car. “Hello ladies.”

Silence.

“Leigh around?” I asked.

Storme glanced at Kelsey, who answered, “No.” With Kelsey’s attention on me, Storme threw her suitcase in the back seat of her convertible, then went to open the driver’s side door.

“No,” Kelsey said, rushing the few steps to lean against it, holding it closed. “Leigh doesn’t want us there.”

“Doesn’t want you where?” I asked.

They ignored me.

“She needs us,” Storme said. “Especially now.”

Why especially now? I got a sick feeling in my gut.

“If she wanted us to go with her, she wouldn’t have snuck out of here before dawn,” Kelsey said. “She wouldn’t have left us a note specifically telling us not to follow her.”

Storme looked down and wiped an eye. “I feel terrible.”

Kelsey hugged her. “Leigh is the strongest, smartest, most together person I know. She’ll figure it out. She needs some time alone. You know how she gets.”

“She’s always been there for me,” Storme said, turning to the car. “I need to be there for her.”

“You need to come back inside and calm down,” Kelsey said. “Your parents and your fiancé will be here soon, and you can’t go running up to Westchester. There’s too much to for the wedding. Leigh understands.”

It was like they’d forgotten all about me. I cleared my throat. When they looked over, I waved. “Remember me?”

“She won’t want you there, either,” Kelsey said.

“Especially not you,” Storme added.

“Why?” I asked, possibilities already percolating in my mind, none of them good. “And where is she?”

“Home,” Storme said.

“Storme,” Kelsey cautioned.

Since it seemed I’d have more luck with Storme than Kelsey, I focused on her. “Why did she go home?”

Storme glanced at Kelsey. “Her grandfather passed away.”

Shit. “When?”

“She must have gotten the call late last night.” Storme wiped at the corner of her eye. “She went to bed around nine. When we woke up, she was gone.”

“But that doesn’t explain why I haven’t heard from her for the last two days,” I said.

Storme wouldn’t look at me.

Kelsey looked me straight in the eye but said nothing.

“Please,” was all I could think to say. Then I stood there, waiting, hoping one of them would take pity on me and tell me what was going on.

It didn’t take Storme long. “She’s—”

“Don’t,” Kelsey cut her off. “If Leigh wanted him to know, she would have told him.”

I wanted to ask ‘Know what?’ but decided to keep quiet to see what would happen next.

Slamming her hands on her hips, Storme stood up to Kelsey. “I know Leigh said she needed time and she didn’t want either of us to go after her, but she didn’t say anything about Nick.”

“Because he’s not supposed to know,” Kelsey argued.

“She’s got too much going on,” Storme argued back. “All this stress can’t be good for the baby.”

Kelsey’s eyes went wide.

Storme sucked in a breath.

The news didn’t come as a surprise. As much as I’d hoped she wasn’t, I’d seen the signs. “She took a test?” I asked, my heart starting to race on Leigh’s behalf, thinking about what she must be going through right now.

Kelsey nodded. “I woke up to her vomiting in the bathroom early Monday morning.”

Two days ago.

“We knew something was going on, even before that,” Storme said. “She was quieter than usual, always daydreaming.”

“She wasn’t drinking like she usually does.”

“Not that she’s a big drinker,” Storme said. “But she does love my family’s wine.”

“She refused potato chips,” Kelsey added.

“Told me she was worried about fitting into her dress for the wedding,” Storme said. “And she’d started eating yogurt and drinking milk.”

“I ran out to the pharmacy and bought a test,” Kelsey said. “We stood outside the bathroom door until she took it.”

“Then we all cried when it turned out to be positive.” Storme wiped at her eye again. “I’ve never seen her so unhappy. Now, on top of that, she has to say goodbye to her grandpa, who helped raise her. And you know she’ll be worrying about her dad’s heart and how she’s going to tell him.”

I’d heard enough. “What’s her dad’s address?” I took out my phone, ready to plug it into my GPS.

Neither one answered. “I agree with Storme,” I told them. “Leigh’s got too much going on to deal with it all on her own. She needs someone to lean on. Let me be the one to go after her.” I stared directly at Storme. “Please.” When she just stood there looking at me, trying to decide, I added, “I love her.” I hadn’t planned for it to happen, but it had.

Four hours later, the GPS guided me into an upscale neighborhood in Harrison, New York, one of the wealthiest suburbs in Westchester County. I passed by several large homes with perfectly manicured lawns and gardens before I found number twelve on my right and pulled into a long paved driveway.

The two-story red brick house, with interesting architecture and lots of windows, could easily have graced the cover of a magazine, yet it didn’t scream, ‘A billionaire lives here.’ I drove up to the four car garage and parked beside Leigh’s Subaru.

A minute later I rang the bell, my heart pounding, not sure who would answer the door or what type of reception I’d receive. The only thing I
was
sure of was that I had to come, had to at least try to console her.

Leigh answered the door, wearing a simple black dress and simple black heels, her eyes red and puffy, and my heart broke. She didn’t look surprised to see me and said nothing as she stepped aside to let me in. After she closed the door, she said, “Kelsey called to tell me you were on the way. I tried to call you but—”

“I didn’t answer. Nothing you could have said would have stopped me from coming.” I walked toward her. “I’m so sorry to hear about your grandfather.” I gave her a hug. She stood stiffly and didn’t hug me back, not at all like the warm, affectionate Leigh I’d been dating for more than six weeks. A bad sign. I released her.

“We just got home from my grandfather’s memorial service.”

“So soon?”

“Dad wanted it done right away, so like he always does, he made it happen.” She dabbed at her eye with a tissue. “My grandfather’s body will be cremated later today.”

The doorbell rang. “Damn it. I told him to stay in the car until I could—”

Leigh opened the door and there stood Murphy, holding the fruit basket he’d insisted I stop to get after he’d insisted on coming with me.

“Murphy!” Leigh took the fruit basket and thrust it in my direction. “I’m so glad you came.” Then she threw herself into my granddad’s arms and sobbed harder than I’d ever seen a woman cry in my life.

“There, there.” Murphy patted her back while he looked over her shoulder and gave me one of his, ‘I told you so’ looks.

Fine. He’d been right. Again.

Garrett DeGray walked into the entryway, wearing a dark gray suit, asking, “Who’s at the door?”

“Mr. DeGray.” I held out my hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“In my home, it’s Garrett.” He shook my hand, his grip firm, glancing toward Leigh and my granddad, then back at me.

“That’s my grandfather, Murphy Kenzy,” I explained. “He and Leigh have grown close over the past few weeks. He insisted on coming with me.”

Murphy held out a hand, Leigh still clinging to him, crying. “Nice to meet you.”

Garrett shook his hand. “Please. Come in. Leigh, let Murphy move.” He turned back to me. “She and her grandfather were very close. She’s taking his passing very hard.” He looked at his daughter with concern and quietly added, “I’ve never seen her this upset. Not even after her mother died.”

Leigh stepped away from Murphy, wiping her eyes, still sniffling. “I’m sorry.” She took the fruit basket, not making eye contact with any of us. “Thank you for your thoughtful gift. You’ve had a long drive. Please come in.” We followed her to a nice, very upscale sitting room. “Make yourselves comfortable. The bathroom is down the hall on the right.” She pointed. “I’ll go pour us some iced tea.” Then she turned and left the room.

Typical Leigh, striving to do the right thing and take care of others, but she didn’t have to, not today, not for Murphy and me. “I’ll go help,” I told Garrett, following after her.

I found Leigh in the huge, modern kitchen, with lots of black and lots of chrome, holding on to the handle of a huge black refrigerator, staring down at the speckled marble countertop, motionless.

I walked up behind her. “You don’t have to wait on us.”

She turned, slowly, looking so sad, so lost. I opened my arms and she stepped into them, setting her head to my shoulder. I hugged her tightly. This time she hugged me back. “I know it sounds trite, but everything really is going to be okay.”

She nodded. “At some point. But right now…” She inhaled a shuddery breath, then let it out. “Right now it doesn’t feel that way.” We stood there for a few minutes. It was as if I could feel her body relaxing in my arms. It felt good.

“Storme told you,” she said.

“That you’re pregnant? Yes.”

“That you’re what?” Garrett DeGray bellowed. “Pregnant?” He grabbed onto the island counter with one hand and clutched his chest with the other.

“Daddy!” Leigh ran toward him. “Where are your pills?”

He fumbled in the pocket of his suit jacket and handed her a small prescription bottle.

She quickly opened it and handed him the medicine, and he slipped it under his tongue.

Murphy smacked the back of my head. “Nicholas Vincent Kenzy, your parents raised you better than that. Of all the stupid, irresponsible—”

“The baby isn’t his,” Leigh said, helping her father onto a stool.

“But you two…” Murphy said, looking between me and Leigh.

She undid her dad’s tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. “It happened before we met.”

“She told me she might be pregnant before we started dating,” I added.

“And you dated her anyway,” Murphy said. A statement not a question.