The Red Diary (33 page)

"Still you didn't have to invite him to your party just now, but you did, and next time I promise I'll take you up on it. By the way," she said, softening her tone, "I met Nick's dad."

She could almost sense her father's gut clenching, even over the phone. "How is he?"

She swallowed, trying to think how much to explain.

Most of it, she decided, was no longer any of Henry's business. "He wasn't good. And just so you know-" she kept her voice soft despite what she was about to say "I have issues with how you got his half of the company."

"So do I," he admitted quietly.

"But it's long in the past, and probably time to lay it to rest," she assured him. She hoped Nick could lay it to rest, too. There was really no other option if he were to be happy.

After brunch, Lauren talked Nick into stopping by Davy and Elaine's, saying she wanted to get to know them better, and she really did, but she also thought it might be good for him to be around other people who loved him right now, good to see that life still went on, that nothing had changed between last night and today. She and Elaine sat on the back deck at a heavy, old metal table sipping iced tea as Davy and Nick tossed a softball in the backyard, and Nick commented at least three times

that he'd pick up some white spray paint for Elaine's table and chairs. Elaine seemed a tad nervous at first, but it wore off quickly as they made small talk about Nick's work and the great job he'd done painting Lauren's house, and she even used the opportunity to say they'd have to come over for a cookout sometime. Most importantly, though, Nick seemed relaxed as he and Davy flung the ball back and forth, for the first time in a couple of days.

Later that afternoon, they ended up back at her place in the pool. When Nick admitted that he, Davy, and Elaine had always dreamed of having a pool like hers, she quickly said, "We'll make the cookout a swim party."

"Cookout?" He lay floating on an air mattress at the pool's rim as she knelt to hand him a soda.

"Yeah, I invited Elaine and Davy to come over sometime."

She hadn't been sure he would like the idea, but in response, he sat up, placed one hand behind her neck, and pulled her down into a warm kiss. "You're so damn good to me," he said, his voice soft and low.

She smiled into his eyes. His kiss, and the part of his world she'd experienced last night and today, filled her with a new sort of heat-something as comfortable and safe as it was sultry. She was a part of his life now in a way she hadn't been before. "There's more where that came from," she teased.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah." She took the drink can back out of his hand and set it on the ground beside her, then lunged onto the air mat on top of him. It tipped over with a splash and they came up laughing, and Nick chased her to the shallow end, where he drew her into a wet embrace.

His eyes were all heat by the time he reached behind her neck to undo her top. It fell down over her stomach, exposing her breasts to the hot sun, to his possessive hands. He captured them, squeezing, kneading, making her moan through the hungry kiss he delivered.

Letting the kisses trail downward until he was licking, sucking, tenderly biting at her nipples, he sank his hands beneath the water to push down her bikini bottoms. She shoved his trunks downward, too, wrapping her hand around his erection as soon as it was freed. He groaned, the heat in his gaze transforming to pure fire as he pinned her to the edge of the pool, bracing his arms on either side.

Leaning in, he pressed his hard column against the cleft between her thighs like a promise-until she spread her legs for him, and he pushed his way in, fulfilling the vow. Even without a Polynesian lagoon, he'd turned yet another fantasy real. Tipping her head back, she drank in the warm caress of the sun as Nick caressed her in a far rougher way below. She basked in the moment, in the always incredible sensations of having him inside her, of the sun and the water and the perfection of her life. And as he made hot love to her, she flashed on something he'd said earlier over brunch. I'm sorry I left you the other night. I won't do that to you again.

It wasn't I love you, yet somehow it was almost as good, and remembering it now made their lovemaking even sweeter.

"What did you think of Nick's girlfriend?" Elaine asked Davy as they drove toward Albertson's. It would be more crowded on a Saturday afternoon, she'd said earlier, but she needed to pick up a few things since she hadn't been able to go in with him the other day. Then she'd winked about the last part.

"Pretty," he said. Lauren was as pretty as any woman he'd ever seen, let alone talked to. She reminded him of a perfect life-sized doll. "And nice;" Nice enough that he'd instantly felt comfortable with her, enough to show her his fish without anyone else suggesting it. She hadn't looked at him like he was different, and it had made him like her immediately. "1 thought so, too," Elaine said.

As they drove, he thought about how he sensed the storm inside Nick weakening. It wasn't something just anybody could see-probably even Elaine couldn't see it-but he knew Nick in ways no one else did, so for him, it was easy. He'd spent most of his life watching his brother's confident moves, his take-charge attitude, and the dark eyes that softened only for him. But something in those eyes had changed lately. They'd gotten a little more gentle in some way he inherently knew had nothing to do with him. And it wasn't a temporary, moment by-moment thing, either. It was like Nick had had some kind of plastic surgery-but on the inside. Maybe in his heart. He thought maybe it was because of Lauren, especially since he understood better now than he ever could've before how a girl could affect you that way.

He was still thinking about Nick when he pushed a cart into Albertson's at Elaine's side, and the next thing he knew, he saw Daisy. She glanced up and they made eye contact and he smiled. He hadn't meant to do it, hadn't planned it, just did it. And she smiled back.

It was like Christmas lights had been strung through his whole body and someone had just plugged them in, like heaven had just opened up before him and it was a garden with a girl named Daisy sitting right in the middle of it.

Elaine grabbed his wrist after they'd walked past.

"Did you see?"

He had no idea what she was talking about-he was still busy smiling, and hoping his heart wasn't going to melt in his chest. "Huh?"

"Did you see your frame? It was hanging on the wall behind the floral counter."

"It was?"

She nodded, excited. Then her grip on his wrist tightened. They stopped walking, and Elaine peered at him with wide eyes.

"You should go back there. You should talk to her. Right now."

"Huh?" he said again. The very suggestion had all those Christmas lights short-circuiting inside him. After all, he'd just gotten what he'd dreamed of-he'd earned Daisy Maria Ramirez's smile. He didn't particularly want to risk messing up a moment so perfect with something as unimportant--or, in his case, risky-as words.

Yet Elaine's gaze was practically wild. "Listen, I know it's scary, but if you do it right now, without even thinking, if you just walk up to her and say hello, it'll be fine. I promise."

The last part was what got him. Just like Nick, Elaine never lied to him. "Really? You promise?"

She gave him a slow, solemn nod, and such firm assurance from his sister somehow made him brave, made him believe. She was right. He could do this.

So without another word, he took a deep, nervous breath, then walked back toward the floral department, never slowing his stride, never letting himself plan anything or think any further than the heavy beat of his heart. A moment later he stood before Daisy Maria Ramirez and she looked up at him expectantly and he wished he'd never been born. But then he remembered the smile she'd given him just a short minute ago and let it restore a little of his new found courage. "Hi," he said.

"Hi." Her voice was as soft and pretty as her delicate face. And she wasn't looking at him funny, either-at least not yet. He pointed behind her, to the daisy frame. "I made that for you."

She peeked over at it, then turned back to him, her eyes shining on him like he'd woven the silk daisies himself. "You made Daisy's Garden?"

His chest sizzled from the way she was looking at him. He felt like he might burst apart at any second, so he worked very hard to stay calm, to hold himself together. Then he nodded.

She bit her lip thoughtfully, her eyes growing wider and rounder. "It's beautiful."

You're beautiful. "I'm ... glad you like it."

Just then, her gaze shifted across the wide front aisle to a stem-faced older woman who watched her. She lowered her voice. "I can't really talk now. I have to work."

For the first time, Davy noticed the array of flowers spread on the table before her. And he didn't even have to sift through the lines he' d practiced in his head to come up with, "Can I watch? I like watching you put flowers together." She gave him another smile that reached all the way into his stomach. "Yeah, you can watch."

And as she turned the blooms into artwork before his ardent eyes, his heart hurt, but in a really good way, because she still hadn't looked at him like he was weird or puppy like and he knew he'd been right all along. He knew she didn't mind that he was different.

Sunday morning, Nick awoke to find Lauren standing next to the bed, showered and dressed, at far too early an hour. "I have to go to the office."

Shaking off sleep, he raised on one elbow. "What's wrong?"

"I just found out the subs' checks didn't make it into the mail on Friday after I left. The printer broke, and it just got fixed yesterday. Andrea, the woman who usually does the mailing, can't come in."

"It can't wait 'til tomorrow?"

She shook her head, her blond locks shimmering about her shoulders. "I want to get them to the mailbox outside the post office today. That way, everyone might get them only one day late instead of two. I know most people really need their checks."

True enough-he couldn't pay his guys until he got a check from Ash. "Do you want me to come with you? If it's just stuffing envelopes. I can help."

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Nick, but Sadie's coming in, too. We both know the routine, so together we should be able to knock it out in an hour or two. Keep sleeping, and I'll be back before you know it."

Yet after she disappeared out the door, Nick couldn't sleep. He showered and dressed, glad he'd started keeping a few clothes at her place, then rummaged in the kitchen for breakfast, which he ate by the pool.

He'd been doing some thinking, and not just about his family. Other than Davy, and perhaps his mother, he'd never known anyone who gave their love so freely, in so trusting a way, as Lauren had given hers to him. Look at him, sitting here eating her food next to her pool, like he lived here. She'd made him this constant fixture in her life without ever questioning how long he'd be here, what he'd give her in return, if he loved her. The only thing she'd ever asked was that he stay the night after they slept together.

And God. how he' d ended up taking from this woman. Not just sex, but her compassion, her patience, her faith in him ... a faith that-hell. he didn't even know where it'd come from, just that she gave him so much and he gave her so little. Because he'd taken something else from her, too, something he could never give back. He'd taken those private thoughts in her journal. Time and again, he'd taken her secrets, her fantasies

He'd used them to lure her in, and he'd used them later just to make her think he was special, that they. were special together.

And if Nick had learned anything from Lauren, it was that secrets weren't good. Even after what he'd learned from his father on Friday night, he remained glad he'd confronted him once and for all, just to say-l know what you did. Dad. I remember. It happened.

And just as anger at his dad had been eating him up inside, taking from Lauren was eating him up, too. Even as he'd made love to her yesterday in the pool, he'd felt like he was taking, like he was there under false pretenses, like she thought he was something he wasn't. He was afraid he'd always feel like he was taking from her until he told her the truth. Drawing a deep breath, he gathered his breakfast dishes and carried them inside, then slowly made his way up the stairs. When he reached the top, he entered the dark, quiet space where she worked, its very atmosphere now reeking to him of sex and fantasy and the forbidden thrill of knowing her thoughts. He'd come here with a plan.

He didn't know if it was the smartest move he could make, but it was the only way he could think of to let her know the truth. After all, he'd considered saying it before, but he couldn't find the words, couldn't force them out. So maybe, he'd decided, he could tell her with his own fantasy. If he added his fantasy to her journal, a fantasy from the first day they'd met, a fantasy she'd madeá come true, she'd find it here. And maybe it would somehow help her understand the allure the journal held for him, and at the same time show her she shouldn't be embarrassed, or ... too unforgiving.

He knew he was taking a huge chance, but after the way she'd held him the other night, after the profound love she'd poured on him when he'd needed it most ... each touch., each caress, had pulled him further back from the edge, had kept him from falling apart. He simply felt he had no other choice but to spill the truth now, and this was how.

When he finished writing, he was going to bookmark the page with the pressed rose and leave it on her desk where she'd see it, where she'd know someone had placed it. Then she'd discover his fantasy, and she'd realize that it was okay, that they both had fantasies and that he didn't want his knowledge of hers to stand between them anymore. Taking up a blue pen from her desk, he moved to the shelf and pulled out the red book. Laying the wax papered rose carefully aside, he sat down in the same chair as always and opened the journal to pages he'd seen once before, the empty ones in the back. He studied the first blank page for a minute, not quite knowing how to begin ... then he turned back a few ink-filled pages in search of inspiration. Even if inspiration also equaled one last sin.

In this fantasy, she lay on a beach and a man came from the ocean to make love to her as the tide rose around them. Each sexy detail filled his senses and, as always, reading her words aroused the hell out of him. It also helped him figure out how to capture his own fantasy on paper.

Finally, he turned back to the blank page and began to write, his stomach churning with each word.

I step inside her house and we stand face-to-face as I push the robe from her shoulders. She undoes the tie at her waist and lets it fall to the ground. Underneath, she wears a green satin nightgown that stops at her thighs and hugs her breasts, breasts I instantly want to kiss.

I reach for the thin straps on her shoulders, lowering them. The nightgown slides to her waist, then drops to her feet, leaving her naked, her body even more incredible than I imagined. I lift her breasts in my hands, then I kiss them, soft at first, then I suck them as she moans and begins to rub my hard-on through my pants.

We lie in a bed then, both of us naked, and she hovers over me, teasing me with her hands, nipples, teeth. I want her more than I've ever wanted any other woman. I knew it from the first moment our eyes met.

Her lips are like silk sliding down over me and I can't think straight, can't hardly breathe. She looks at me as- "Nick? What are you ... ?" The blood in his veins froze.

He lifted his head in time to watch the horror fill Lauren's eyes when she saw what he held in his hands.

Chapter Nineteen

There were moments in life that moved in painfully slow motion. Usually when you suffered a great shock; sometimes when you endured an agonizing injury. For Lauren, this was both, and everything around her seemed blurred, each nanosecond stretching impossibly before her.

Nick looked like what he was-a man who'd gotten caught doing something terrible-as he snapped her journal shut. "I ... didn't hear the garage door."

He didn't hear the garage door? That's what he had to say for himself? Another torrent of shock flooded down through her, though, when she realized the even deeper horror-he'd done this before, read her journal before. and he'd counted on the sound of the garage door to signal him that she was home.

She simply gaped, her lips trembling, everything inside her going weak. She didn't bother explaining that she'd parked outside, simply planning to run in and see if he wanted to go out to lunch; her happy, carefree mood belonged to the distant past.

He rose to his feet. "Lauren, I ... " She took a step back, didn't want to be near him. Didn't even know who he was anymore. "Oh God." She heard the whispered words leave her as shock gave way to logic, and the pieces began to fall horrendously into place. The rose, the hair washing, the way he'd parted her thighs in the pool, all of it She'd thought it was magic, she'd thought it was a connection of souls, but it had only been this, a man who was lying to her, all this time, trespassing on her thoughts, stealing her private world.