The Truth About Air & Water (Truth in Lies #2) (33 page)

Linc whispers something to Cara and she nods at him and then he turns back to me. “Can I talk to you?”

“Tally, are you okay?” Sam asks from behind him at about the same time.

Linc turns back to Sam, even his stance says,
look, I’m in charge
. I hold my breath waiting for some kind of outburst from Linc, but he just clasps both hands to his sides like before even though he still looks like all he really wants to do is deck Sam. “Can I talk to you
alone
?” Linc looks solely at me as he says this.

“Marla, can you take Cara outside? I’ll be out in a few minutes.” I turn to Sam. “I just need to talk to him. Like you said.” I smile sweetly while Sam impatiently nods. “You said we should talk. It’s okay. I’ve got this.”

“Yeah, okay, but I need to take off in about twenty minutes,” Sam says tossing his notable displeasure at the turn of events into the fray. I’ve never seen him act like this before and it sets me off.

“Of course you do. You
own
the place, which you’ve failed to mention to me before today, but okay. Give me twenty minutes. You can take off then. My parents are still here. Marla and Charlie are still here. It’ll be fine. I’m
fine
. Or, take off now if you need to.
I’m fine
.”

He’s leaving me in my hour of need, and I am royally pissed.
My look tells him this in a span of ten seconds.
Oh the things we do not say that our looks convey.

“And I almost believe you,
baby
,” Sam says as he lifts his chin and then smiles at me all benevolent. Linc grunts from behind me; I’m pretty sure it’s for the baby reference.

“We will have
that
chat later,” I say to Sam rewarding him with a tight smile. “Give me some time.”

“I will. And I have.” He smiles wider and then he says, “Okay. Then.”

“Okay. Then.” I smile wide too, remembering the first time he said this to me. He leans in and kisses my forehead and the room of onlookers seems to stop and watch as all chatters ends for about thirty seconds. I step back from Sam and give him a thumbs up.

Then I turn to Linc, who looks stunned and possibly out of his depth for the first time I’ve ever seen, since I met him.

Yes, Elvis, this is what moving on looks like. How’s it feel?

In the meantime, Marla distracts Cara from the tension that’s begun to swirl up in the room again and leads my child by the hand toward the back door. In fact, my bestie manages to distract Sam too and leads him out of the back door with her other hand.
Comical. If only it wasn’t such a real-time drama.

“But I want to play with Daddy,” Cara says to Marla.

“I know. And you will. Just give Mommy a few minutes to talk to Daddy. Come on, let’s go find Elliott. Come on, Sam. Let’s get you a drink. Charlie, let’s get Sam a drink.” Marla smiles at our favorite bartender restaurateur and gives me the
I’ve-got-this
maneuver with a wave of her hand. They all start to follow her outside.

I almost laugh.
Almost.

But then, Cara turns back looking uncertain at Linc. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Cara,” he says gently.

She’s immediately cheered by his promise and grins wide with complete adoration and waves at him.

If only all of his promises were that easy to make and keep.

And now it is just Linc and me.

“I wanted to talk about the LA thing,” he says looking mighty nervous and apologetic at the same time. “Is there somewhere
private
we can talk?”

I lead him to the guest bedroom which is off the living room on the main floor. I don’t use this room anymore. And now as I walk in, I remember the two very best reasons as to why.

Silk satin. Gathered French silk. Tulle. London. Catherine
Deane.
The bridal gown I never wore
hangs on the open closet door right next to his fine-looking, tailor-made black Armani tuxedo. The red roses Elvis sent to one
Miss Cloves and Vanilla
rot upside down in the vase they came in. The pungent smell of the dead roses permeates the space. I’m instantly reminded of Holly’s funeral. As a general rule, I hate flowers of any kind now and the Lincoln Presley of old would have remembered that.

The entire room resembles a shrine or a tomb. Other than a hasty placement and subsequent rearrangement of the roses on the far nightstand I haven’t been in here, but everything else about this room captures and effectively enshrines our life together.

Damn. Why did I bring him in here?

He’s closing the door and locking it behind us. “It’s a private conversation. It’s not my proudest moment then or now.”

“No. I bet not,” I say quietly.

Now, he looks around the room with interest. “I see you got the flowers.” He gets this lazy smile for all of two seconds.

“Uh-huh.”

Then, his smile disappears all together and he stops abruptly in the middle of the room as he spies the bride-and-groom gear that now dominates the space and the two of us.

“Oh,” he says with heavy sigh as he runs his hands through his hair.

“Yeah,” I say.

Silence.

The sadness in both of us comes out of nowhere as if its sole purpose is to entomb us right here.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Heroes -LINC

She’s closed off. I can see that. She plays with her hair which the breeze from the heat register directly overhead keeps undoing. She repeats this nervous cycle of tucking it behind her left ear but then the rush of air blows it back into her face. A stray piece lands in her mouth. Her lips part ever so slightly and then she sighs.

I push my hands deep into my pockets to keep from reaching out to touch her face which I find completely mesmerizing.
She
is mesmerizing. I can’t help but watch as she continues to play with her hair.

I shift my stance. She is attractive from a distance, but up close like this she is beyond the description of beautiful. There are no words to describe her.
Ethereal?
I’ve never thought of a girl as ethereal until I saw
Miss Cloves and Vanilla
in that hospital room, but it’s just like before.

This whole scene seems ominous. My palms sweat, and I begin to rock back and forth on my feet to combat this disconcerting feeling of being this close to her while she studies me intently awaiting my apology.

I’m nervous.

Because of LA

Because it’s Miss Cloves and Vanilla.

The girl I haven’t stopped thinking about since that last night in the hospital
.

Reconciling that girl to Tally Landon has been a challenge, but everything comes together in a span of a few seconds in just seeing her again.

Photographs don’t do her justice at all.

It’s not just her incredible face and eyes that captivate me. It’s her amazing body and the way she moves about the room now. Even her height is perfect. She would most certainly fit perfectly in the middle of my chest just below my chin if I were to hold her.
What is going on with me?

If she gets any closer to me, she will probably hear my heart, which beats wildly, because she’s having this mysterious effect on me and my general well-being. My mind clicks with an easy summation: she’s perfect in every way. Somehow, she appears delicate but unreachable at the same time, and you find yourself just wanting to take care of her, to protect her in every way; and yet the airy defiance so easily discernible upon her beautiful face already tells you that is never going to happen.

Her green eyes flash in the same way that lightning strikes, there one moment and gone the next. And yet, I glimpse this incredible sadness that is almost glacial in its permanence within their depths just before she turns away from me.

She takes my breath away, and I’m having trouble hiding that fact now.

“So you wanted to talk about LA,” she says firmly. “Well, let me just say right now that I
don’t
want to talk about LA like ever.” She’s said this just like a valley girl would.

I press my lips together to keep from smiling because I’m pretty sure that would piss her off even more.

“But what does it matter what I think or feel or say or do? What the fuck ever. Say what you have to say. How is
dear Trinna,
by the way?
Trinna Danner.
How is she?”

I flinch because it is a little disconcerting that she knows the girl’s name. Yet I barely remember anything about that girl and never think of her at all.

“I don’t know how she is,” I finally say. “I don’t even remember what she looks like.”

Bad move. I regret these words as soon as they leave my mouth.

“
Baby
, you don’t even remember
me
, and we were
epic,
so that’s not exactly consoling,” she says with a harsh laugh. “But I guess I’m old news. I’m sorry to hear that she’s no longer your consolation prize. Do go on. Tell me what you have to say about LA that is going to make me feel all better inside and persuade me to hold onto all those fond memories of the two of us.” She waves her arm through the air like a sword in battle and all I can do watch. “I’ve got places to be, people to see.”

She sighs big and takes about three steps back from me. Now, she’s practically at the door.

“
Sam.
Right? Places to be. People to
see
.
Sam.
Right
?”

“Right.” She gets defiant. “Don’t worry I’ve remained loyal. To you. I’m all fucked up for some reason, and have been unable to let you go. Let’s fix that right now.” She slides my engagement ring off her left hand. “Hold out your hand.”

I refuse and keep them clasped behind my back.

She stalks over to me. “Cute, Elvis. Really cute.” She grabs my left front jeans pocket and jams the ring down inside. Of course, that brings her right to me and my arms go around her, and I hold her there. “Let me go,” she says tightly.

“No.”

“Not funny. Let me go.” She starts to struggle and looks exceedingly unhappy and glares at me.

“No.”

“I’ll scream and then where you will be?” She rewards me with this sly smile.

“First of all, I don’t think you will, and secondly; I can take
Thor
, anytime and anywhere.” Now, I smile because holding her this way is its own reward, and the dig at her boyfriend gives me the upper hand for at least six seconds. “So calm the fuck down,
Princess
. And if you
promise
to listen to what all I have to say, I’ll let you go.”

She relaxes a little and looks up at me with these blazing green eyes of hers that practically shimmer.

“
Promise
,” she says it like a swear word.

I let her go. She steps back and warily watches me.