The Manning Brides (21 page)

Things were better now. They’d all begun to adapt. The changes that were taking place in their lives were positive ones and for that, Leah was grateful.

The following Saturday, Paul was in a foul mood—and he didn’t know why. The day had started well, but by evening it had deteriorated. Leah’s date had arrived shortly after dinner, and Paul had barely been able to look at the man.

Ryan had wanted ice cream sometime later, and for no reason at all, Paul found himself saying no. The boys had looked shocked when he snapped at them and quickly retreated to their bedroom.

Feeling guilty, Paul had gone in after them, apologized and then together they’d dished up huge bowls of ice cream. The boys had put on their own toppings and smeared chocolate syrup all over the counter. Paul had conscientiously cleaned up the mess.

He didn’t want Leah coming home from her night on the town to find the kitchen a disaster.

He thought back over his day, which had been a good one. That further confused Paul. If he’d had to cope with one frustrating event after another, he might be entitled to a foul mood. But he hadn’t.

That morning he’d played softball with his brothers. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed sports, and was disappointed that John Duncan would be returning the next week.

Leah and the kids had surprised him by coming to the park to watch the last couple of innings. It felt great to hear Leah cheering him from the stands. In all the time he’d known his sister-in-law, he’d never heard her raise her voice. He’d played his best when Leah and the kids were there, and afterward, for a treat, he’d taken everyone out to McDonald’s.

The afternoon didn’t explain his rotten mood, either. He’d repaired the screen in Kelsey’s bedroom without a hitch. He’d even had time to mow the lawn. The twins had followed him with their plastic mowers, blowing bubbles into the bright June sunshine.

Leah was in the backyard with Kelsey, planting the herbs she’d picked up at the local nursery. She’d never grown them before and wanted to see how well they did. He’d teased her about having a green thumb, and the sound of her laughter had lingered long after he’d gone into the house.

Before he knew it, dinner was on the table and Leah was getting ready for her date with Rob Mullins. Paul had tried to act nonchalant. He was happy she was going out, wasn’t he? Hell, making sure her social life continued was the least he could do. He had to give her a chance to get away from the daily grind of looking after the house and the kids.

Rob seemed like a decent enough guy. A bit on the boring side, but then he hadn’t expected a math professor to be a stand-up comedian.

Once the kids were asleep, Paul went into his den and turned on the computer to work on his novel.

He should be thrilled about the opportunity. Overjoyed.

But he wasn’t.

His attention span was short, his thoughts on everything but his novel. He worked late, forcing himself to review the five chapters he’d written before Diane’s death, making a few changes and corrections as he went.

It was well past eleven when he finished reading. The novel was good. At least he thought it was, but what did he know? Not much, he decided.

He had no reason to delay going to bed, but was strangely reluctant to do so. The boys would be awake before six; he’d told them to crawl into bed with him when they woke up and let Leah sleep.

He checked on the kids, who were sleeping soundly, and glanced at his watch, wondering how much longer Leah would be out. She hadn’t told him what time she’d be back, and he hadn’t asked. Not that it was any of his business…

He sat down in the living room with a novel he’d been wanting to read, but his mind kept wandering. The image of Rob taking Leah in his arms and kissing her sprang, fully formed, into his mind.

Without understanding why, Paul was furious. He slammed the book shut and stood abruptly, his chest heaving with exertion. If Rob was kissing Leah, it had nothing to do with him.

Clenching his fists, he sank back into the chair and opened his book. It didn’t make any difference. The anger simmered just below the surface, looking for an excuse to erupt…but there wasn’t anyone to pick a fight with. Except himself.

He was going to stay awake and wait for her, Paul decided. He didn’t care how late she was; he was going to sit right in this chair until she was home. If she didn’t come home…well, he’d deal with that when the time came. He’d have to do some serious thinking about the situation if it turned out Leah spent the night with Rob Mullins. He didn’t want an immoral woman raising his children, he thought heatedly.

Leah?
Immoral?
Come on!
Paul wanted to kick himself. He’d never known anyone more forthright and honest.

He heard a car door closing, and his heart went into a panic. He leapt off the chair as if he’d been doing something illegal. If Leah invited Rob inside, he didn’t want them to think he was waiting up for her.

Hiding in his bedroom and turning off the lights wouldn’t work, either. They would’ve already noticed the lamp on in the living room.

Thinking quickly, Paul dashed into Kelsey’s room. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he scooped her up from the crib and hurried back to his chair, holding his small sleeping daughter in his arms.

He’d been seated no more than a couple of seconds when Leah slipped quietly inside the house. She paused when she saw him and Kelsey, her expression immediately worried.

“Is she sick? I knew I shouldn’t have left her when she was teething.” The concern in her voice eased Paul’s loathsome temper. He glanced down at the slumbering infant. If Kelsey’s teeth were bothering her, he hadn’t known it. She’d been a perfect baby all evening.

“She’s been fussy this week,” Leah said, looking guilty. “I’m sorry I—”

“Kelsey’s fine…now,” Paul said, gently placing his daughter against his shoulder and patting her back. He felt like a fool playing this game with Leah—a fool and a jerk—but he didn’t have the courage to tell her the truth. “I was just going to put her back to bed.”

“Was she up all evening fussing?”

“Not all evening,” he said, hating himself for the deception.

“I could use a cup of tea,” Leah said, hanging her sweater in the hall closet. “How about you?”

“That sounds good,” he answered in a whisper. He carried Kelsey back to her bedroom and put her in the crib.

When he returned to the kitchen, Leah had set the kettle on the burner and was getting two mugs.

She looked lovely this evening, Paul mused, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched her graceful movements. She looked…he searched for the right word.
Beautiful,
he decided. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he’d never thought of Leah as beautiful before. She turned to smile at him and he was lost. Lost in her wistfully intriguing smile.

Leah swallowed and glanced away.

Paul shook himself out of his trance and walked to the other side of the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and taking out the milk. He didn’t drink his tea with milk, but he needed an excuse to leave her and that one conveniently presented itself.

“I was thinking,” he said, setting the milk carton in the center of the table.

“Oh?”

“You should marry Rob.” Paul wouldn’t have surprised himself more had he suggested they jump off the Tacoma Narrows Bridge together. It was the last thing he wanted. It would be disastrous to the children if Leah left now. Disastrous to him, too.

“Marry Rob?” she echoed, astonished.

“He seems okay.” That sounded like faint praise, but he’d sound like a fool if he said the suggestion had been a joke. Given no other option, he took his own stupid idea even further.

“Rob’s not the marrying kind,” she said.

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “He was married before, and apparently it was a bad experience.”

“What about you, Leah?” Paul didn’t know why he couldn’t leave the subject alone. He didn’t know why he felt the need to pursue it again and again, when it was the very thing he dreaded most.

“What
about
me?”

“You should be married.” For reasons he couldn’t begin to explain, he felt strangely relieved bringing the subject out in the open. He’d never understood why Leah hadn’t married. She was generous. Unselfish. She had a sense of humor and she was easygoing—and she loved kids. He’d watched her with the children all these months, and thanked God with every breath he drew that she was there with him.

Leah frowned at his remark. “I guess I’m a lot like Rob. I’m not the marrying kind.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She carried the pot of tea to the table and filled their mugs. Pulling out her chair, she sat down. “I’ve never been in love.”

“Why not?”

Leah laughed. “I don’t know. It just never happened.”

“How
do
you feel about Rob?”

She shook her head. “I can’t see myself in love with him. He’s too self-involved. We’ll never be anything more than friends.”

“Did you have a good time this evening?”

“Fair.” She lowered her gaze, and Paul thought he might have detected a blush. “I…I don’t think I’ll be seeing Rob again.” She said it as if she expected an argument from him.

“Why not?”

“Because…I have my reasons. Do you mind if we discuss something else?”

“Sure, I mean…no, I don’t mind. I don’t mean to pry.” Mysteriously, the dark mood that had been weighing down on him all evening suddenly lifted. Paul didn’t want to analyze his feelings. He hadn’t said anything to Leah earlier, but he wasn’t all that impressed with Rob. Asked for specifics, he couldn’t have defined his feelings, other than to say he simply didn’t feel the other man was right for Leah.

“How’d everything go with the kids tonight?” she asked in a blatant effort to change the subject.

“Good. They all went down without a problem.”

“Did Ryan take his blankie to bed with him?”

Paul chuckled. “He made a gallant effort to go without it, but in the end he succumbed.”

Leaning back in her chair, Leah took a sip of her tea. “I suspect if Ryan took his blankie to bed with him, then Ronnie figured he had every right to suck his thumb.”

“Naturally.” Paul smiled and drank his own tea. “I worked on my novel this evening,” he said almost shyly. He wasn’t sure why he’d even mentioned his book to Leah. He’d given up analyzing the things he said; he only knew it was something he wanted to tell her.

“How’s it coming?”

“Better than I thought.”

“How far are you into it?”

“Five chapters—a hundred and ten pages, to be exact. I’ve been doing a bit of revising.”

“What’s it about?”

Her interest seemed genuine; otherwise Paul wouldn’t have bored her with the details. The story had begun to take shape in his mind long before he’d decided to write it down. It was a thriller with an ex-military hero, a reporter heroine and a plot that involved the illegal arms trade, the Russian mafia and the Middle East.

Leah listened intently, then asked him several thought-provoking questions. Paul answered them as best he could, amazed at her insight. Grateful, too, because she’d pointed out a major plot weakness he’d overlooked.

The next time he glanced at his watch it was nearly one. Paul was astonished by that. They’d been talking for an hour and a half.

“My goodness,” Leah said, looking at her own watch. “I had no idea it was so late.”

“Me, neither.”

They both stood and walked toward the sink. Leah set her cup down first, then Paul followed with his. But when she turned, apparently she didn’t realize he was directly behind her. To keep from colliding with him, she jerked back.

Paul’s arms instinctively reached out to steady her. His hands closed over her shoulders.

They both froze.

For a long moment neither moved. Paul’s eyes drifted slowly over Leah’s flushed features. Her arms were raised, her hands braced against his chest. Her breasts—

Stop!
Paul chastised himself. He shouldn’t be thinking such things. Not about Leah.

“Are you all right?” he asked once he found his voice. He could hardly breathe, hardly think. All he seemed capable of was feeling.

“I’m fine.” Her words were scarcely audible, and she was slightly breathless. Her eyes continued to hold his.

Paul knew he should release her. He knew he’d held on to her much longer than necessary. He knew…he knew he was going to kiss her.

Before he could stop himself, before his control slipped back into place, Paul lowered his mouth to hers.

P
aul felt as though someone had carved out his insides. He felt empty…no, it wasn’t emptiness he was feeling, but he couldn’t identify the intense, unfamiliar emotions that raged through him.

He abruptly dropped his arms, letting go of Leah. Wordlessly they stepped away from each other. He saw how swollen her lips were. Her beautiful eyes, more green than brown, were wide and staring up at him.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry, beg her forgiveness, but he couldn’t make himself do it. She looked at him unblinking, her face devoid of color.

Then, just as he found the courage to talk to her, she edged her way past him and hurried down the hallway to her bedroom. She closed her door with a resounding bang—which told him how upset she was, otherwise she would never have risked waking the children.

Paul considered going after her, to explain, only he didn’t know what he could say that would excuse what he’d done. He waited a few minutes until he could control the trembling in his hands, then turned off the lights and headed down the hallway to his room.

But he hesitated outside Leah’s door. Clenching his fists at his sides, he silently berated himself.

He could’ve stopped himself from kissing her, yet he hadn’t. He’d given in to the impulse, knowing full well he’d be faced with regrets later. None of that had mattered at the time. He’d wanted to kiss her. He’d
needed
to kiss her.

He’d pulled her into his arms, touching every inch of her body with his own, adding to his excitement.

Adding to his guilt.

Her right hand had moved from his chest to caress his face. How warm her fingers had felt against his skin. How smooth.

How right.

It was then that he’d deepened the kiss and she’d given a small gasp—Paul didn’t know if it was in pleasure or surprise.

Whatever control Paul possessed, which admittedly was darn little, had been lost at that moment. He’d thrust his hands into her hair and hungrily slanted his mouth over hers. Leah’s response was undeniable.

He couldn’t make himself break away. Couldn’t make himself
want
to break away. Her tongue had shyly darted forward, and the kiss became even deeper.

Paul knew he had to end it now. Before they went beyond kissing…

He tore his mouth from hers. They were both gasping for breath, their shoulders heaving. The look on Leah’s face would haunt him to the grave.

He saw her shock. Her confusion. But what hurt the most was the self-loathing he could see in her eyes. Perhaps it was just a reflection of his own. Paul didn’t know anymore.

Defeated, he moved past her bedroom door, taunted by the twin demons of guilt and desire. It hurt to walk away from Leah. It’d been nearly nine months since he’d experienced the ecstacy, the physical release of a woman’s body. Nine agonizing, grief-filled months.

But that was no excuse. He wasn’t some teenager overwhelmed by hormones. He was fast approaching forty; by now he should have his libido under control.

But was it so wrong to feel again? he asked himself as he readied for bed.

Yes,
came the immediate response. When Diane died, he’d known, had accepted, that the sexual part of his life was over. Gone forever. He’d had a healthy, active sex life with Diane, and when she died he couldn’t imagine himself ever wanting another woman. He’d felt so certain of that, so sure that being with anyone else would amount to a betrayal of the wife he’d loved.

But perhaps he’d been shortsighted. Perhaps he’d been foolish. He was still alive, after all. He still had needs, desires, the kind a man felt for a woman.

But Leah? His wife’s
sister?

She’d felt so warm. She’d tasted so sweet…so womanly.

He felt trapped.

Diane was gone. Dead. He was alive. But was he? He felt caught somewhere between life and death. One foot in the present, the other in the past.

Diane and Leah.

They were sisters.
He was
related
to Leah. How could he feel the way he did about her? It was wrong.

A crystal-clear memory of his wife came into his mind. It was the day she’d learned she was pregnant with Kelsey. She’d planned a surprise celebration for when he returned home from work. Leah had taken the boys to the movies, giving him and Diane several uninterrupted hours. They’d made love, then sat up in bed eating ice cream and pickles. The memory of the teasing and the laughter would always stay with him. He’d loved Diane. Loved her more than life itself. But
he
was the one who’d been left behind.

The image of Diane sitting in their bed, ice cream smeared across her mouth, faded. Paul shut his eyes as tightly as he could, trying unsuccessfully to bring her back. Instead it was Leah who drifted into his mind. Leah, crouched in the sunshine as she worked in the garden. The children were gathered around her, Kelsey trying to catch a gold-winged butterfly, his sons busy digging in the dirt.

What had he done? The fact that he’d inflicted himself on Leah filled him with disgust. Heaven only knew what he was going to say to her in the morning.

What
could
he say? He didn’t have a single excuse to offer her, not a single explanation to give. Needing her like this, using her like this, had been selfish and wrong.

But it
felt
right, his mind countered. Nothing had ever felt more right.

“No!” he muttered. It was wrong, wrong, wrong.

He was so confused. His thoughts were tangled, contradictory, uncertain.

He didn’t know what to do.

Leah couldn’t sleep. She lay on her back staring up at the ceiling in the darkened room. Silent tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, rolling into her hair and onto her pillow. She let them fall.

She hadn’t known a kiss could be so good. She hadn’t known desire could burn so hot. She’d always been sensible when it came to men and relationships. In charge of every situation. Always in control.

Until Paul kissed her. One kiss, and her body had felt as if it were on fire.

Her heart was still beating much too fast, its cadence echoing in her ear. Her body throbbed with pleasure.

With shame.

With need.

If only Paul had said something. But she’d seen the stricken look in his eyes, seen for herself his tortured regret. His reaction had hurt her more than anything since Diane’s death. Unable to bear it, Leah had turned, with as much dignity as she could muster, and retreated to her bedroom.

But her dignity was cold comfort.

If only she understood what had prompted Paul to kiss her. Had she, without realizing it, done or said something to lead him on, sent inadvertent messages, seeking his touch?

She must have; otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone so eagerly into his arms. Otherwise, she would’ve broken away. It was all too clear how willingly she’d accepted his embrace.

Mortified by the thought, she covered her hot face with both hands.

Shivering, Leah remembered the blatant way she’d responded to him. She’d opened up to Paul. Opened her arms. Opened her heart. And…her face grew hotter still. She’d been looking for more. Much more.

She’d lost herself in his kiss, responding to him as she never had to any other man. She’d actually pressed herself against him….

The kiss had gone wild, and demand had shot through her veins. For the first time in her life, Leah had felt completely out of control with a man. She’d wanted him so badly. Wanted to feel his arms around her. Wanted his kiss. Wanted to experience the welcoming touch of his tongue…

She’d wanted her sister’s husband.

Leah closed her eyes and waited for revulsion to attack her. Waited for guilt to bury her.

She waited. And waited.

But it didn’t come. Not the revulsion or the guilt.

Yet in her heart of hearts, Leah experienced such regret it all but consumed her. Regret because of the way he obviously felt about their kiss. It seemed to her that
he
was feeling the revulsion and guilt she wasn’t. That, too, was a painful reality—Paul’s disdain for her because of what they’d done. What
she’d
done.

Was she falling in love with him? Leah asked herself.

She couldn’t answer that any more than she could answer any of the other questions that tormented her.

Her fingers touched her still-swollen lips. They felt bruised—just like her heart. The memory of that moment in his arms returned, bringing with it all the fever, all the madness, all the fury, of their kiss.

She shouldn’t be feeling these things, she chastised herself. It was wrong.

How was she going to look Paul in the eye the next morning? How was she going to pretend nothing had happened?

Around her the night breathed. The dark closed in. The rain, which had been threatening all evening, tapped against the windows.

It was a long time before she fell asleep.

Leah woke the next morning, feeling as though she hadn’t slept at all. The boys were awake; she could hear them in the kitchen. Apparently Kelsey was up, as well. She turned onto her side and glanced at her clock radio. It was nearly nine. How Paul had been able to keep the kids from waking her was a mystery. Throwing back the covers, she got out of bed and quickly dressed for church.

“Leah,” Ronnie cried when she walked into the kitchen, “Ryan got the prize in the cereal box. Tell Daddy it’s my turn!”

“I don’t remember whose turn it is,” she told him, surprised to see that the boys and Kelsey were already dressed.

“It is so my turn,” Ronnie insisted.

“Ryan can share.” Paul’s gruff voice didn’t make her feel any better. So far Leah had been able to avoid looking at him, but she wouldn’t be able to keep that up for much longer.

He hadn’t spoken directly to her, which did nothing to ease the tension between them. Leah could feel the strained nervousness as intensely as she’d felt his touch the night before.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and hurried into the bathroom, where she applied her makeup. By the time she’d finished, Paul had set the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and wiped the table.

Leah half expected him to make an excuse to skip church that morning. She was half hoping he would. But apparently he didn’t plan to stay home, much as she would’ve preferred it.

They didn’t exchange a word on the short drive to the church. Even the children were strangely quiet.

Once they arrived, Leah brought Kelsey to the nursery, while Paul escorted the boys to their Sunday school class.

When Leah entered the church, she saw that Paul’s parents had arrived and, sighing with relief, went to sit with them. Rich and Jamie sat in the pew directly in front of Eric and Elizabeth. Being surrounded by Paul’s family comforted Leah, made her feel welcome and accepted.

As Paul slipped into the seat next to her, she noticed that he maintained a safe distance between them.

The service passed in a blur for Leah. Her head was so full of what had happened between her and Paul, she couldn’t concentrate on the sermon.

When they stood for the closing hymn, Elizabeth Manning leaned toward Leah and whispered, “Are you feeling all right?”

Leah quickly nodded.

“You’re looking pale.” She paused. “So is Paul.”

“I’m fine.” But Leah’s heart was hammering. She was a little taken aback by how easily Elizabeth had detected the tension between her and Paul. She could only pray that her alarm didn’t show in her eyes.

As they finished singing the final verse of the hymn, Leah felt Paul’s gaze. Everything in her wanted to turn and look at him, but she lacked the courage. Eventually they’d need to speak to each other. Eventually they’d have to discuss what had happened. But she wasn’t ready now and she didn’t know how long it would take before she was.

Leah met Jamie, Rich’s wife, on her way into the nursery to pick up Kelsey. “You’re coming, aren’t you?” she asked. At Leah’s blank look, Jamie elaborated. “Mom wants all of us to come over for brunch. Paul must’ve forgotten to tell you.”

“Ah…”

“Typical man,” Jamie said with a smile. “How’s everything working out?”

“Great,” Leah responded with a too-bright smile. She’d only talked to Paul’s sister-in-law a handful of times, but she liked Jamie. Bethany, Jamie and Rich’s little girl, was nearly eighteen months old and, from something Paul had said, it looked as if the couple would be having a second child soon.

Paul met Leah in the hallway outside the nursery. “Mom and Dad invited us to brunch,” he said brusquely. “Is that all right with you?”

“It’s fine.”

These were the first words they’d spoken all morning.

“If you’d rather, I could drop you off at the house and take the kids over myself.”

The suggestion hurt—he was trying to avoid her—but she tried not to let it show. “It’d…only raise questions if I didn’t come.”