Wishing Lake (24 page)

“If everything was going so well, my bringing your fiancé over to Darius’s apartment wouldn’t have made a difference. But I’ve heard you two broke up.” Ginny’s words danced with glee.

“My
ex
-fiancé. And Darius still hasn’t come to see you.” Peyton kept walking. “That restraining order Darius took out against you is never going away.”

Ginny hurried to keep pace with her. “Maybe not. But you don’t have him, either.”

Peyton didn’t respond. What could she say? Darius was lost to her as well. Mercifully, Ginny claimed that victory and allowed Peyton to walk away.

She’d made a mistake by thinking she could start fresh in Trinity Falls. It had never occurred to her that her past would follow and get in the way of her future. How shortsighted. She would have explained all of that to Darius if he’d returned any of her three messages. She was beginning to feel like Ginny the Stalker.

Peyton adjusted her purse strap and shifted the books in her hand as she mounted the ornate black metal staircase to her apartment. She had only a few hours before she needed to return to the community center for tonight’s event. Not enough time to prepare for a repeat of Darius’s emotional distance.

Her cell phone started ringing as soon as Peyton let herself into her apartment and locked her door. She dug it from her purse as she walked into her bedroom. The display screen identified her parents’ home number. Peyton set the phone and her textbooks on her nightstand. She wasn’t up to a conversation with them now. Maybe later. Peyton stripped down to her underwear, set her alarm to go off in one hour, then curled up under the blankets for a nap.

Minutes later, a persistent ringing woke her. Grumbling, Peyton blinked open her eyes and grabbed her cell phone from her nightstand. It was her parents’ number again.

“Hello?” Peyton turned off her alarm as she accepted their call.

“Peyton, it’s Mom.” Her mother’s voice sounded uncertain.

“And Dad.” Her father must be speaking from another extension.

“Is something wrong?” She sat up in her bed, setting a pillow between her back and the headboard.

“We called to apologize.” Irene’s explanation startled Peyton.

She tightened her grip on her cell phone. “Apologize? For what?”

Peyton’s eyes searched her bedroom as she tried to settle her mind. She avoided her reflection in the mirror across the room. She was certain she looked a mess. Shadows sketched along her beige walls as the winter afternoon lengthened.

“You were right about Bruce.” Her mother’s voice was low with regret. “He was having an affair with Leila.”

“I know.” They’d woken her up to tell her this? But of course they hadn’t known she’d been sleeping.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Carlson asked.

Peyton wanted to laugh. “I did and you didn’t believe me, remember?” She didn’t wait for their answer. “What finally convinced you?”

Carlson’s sigh traveled down the phone line. “When Leila found out you’d broken the engagement, she insisted Bruce marry her. He refused. According to Leila, he was determined to make you marry him.”

Had she heard her father correctly? “You spoke with Leila?”

“I asked her whether there was any truth to the rumors of a personal relationship between her and Bruce.”

“Then you
did
believe me.” The revelation eased a tension she hadn’t realized was there.

“We should have listened to you right away,” Carlson said. “But I didn’t want to believe I could be so blind to something that was right under my nose. I’d worked side by side with Bruce for years—long days, long weeks. How could I not have seen he was a fake and a cheat?”

“But you were quite passionate when you accused him of infidelity. We’re sorry we doubted you, Peyton.”

Am I dreaming?
“What did you tell Bruce?”

“I fired him.” Anger echoed in Carlson’s voice. “He violated company policy by having a sexual relationship with a member of his staff. Not only does it show poor judgment, but it also leaves the brokerage vulnerable to a lawsuit.”

The news took Peyton’s breath away. “You did the right thing, Dad.”

“Thank you for making me face the situation.” Carlson sounded angry and embarrassed.

Irene broke the brief silence. “So, now that the situation with Bruce has been handled, you can come home.”

“Mom, I am home.” Peyton braced herself for this next confrontation.

Irene chuckled. “Peyton, Trinity Falls, Ohio, can’t be your home. You’re a New Yorker.”

“I’m building a life for myself here. I have a job, friends, I’m involved in the community. In fact, I’m cohosting a fund-raiser tonight.”

“You are?” Irene sounded pleased and surprised. “Tell me about it.”

Carlson broke into their conversation. “Before you two get started, I’ll say good night. Baby girl, think about coming home, OK?”

Peyton swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew that was something she couldn’t do. Regardless of whether she and Darius reconciled, she could never return to her life before Trinity Falls. “Have a good evening, Dad.”

The
click
on the line signaled her father had hung up.

“So what is he like?” Irene asked.

“Pardon me?”

“When you came home for Thanksgiving, there was a glow about you. You were more assertive, more outspoken than you’ve ever been.” Irene chuckled. “I hardly recognized you. But I liked what I saw.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Her mother’s words warmed her.

“I’ll miss having you near me, Peyton. Are you happy?”

“I am.” For the most part.

“Good, I’m glad. That’s what your father and I have always wanted. It’s what we’ve prayed for. I look forward to meeting your young man.”

Darius wasn’t her young man anymore. Peyton needed to change the subject. “It’s getting late, Mom. I need to get dressed for the fund-raiser.”

“Of course. Good luck. Call me tomorrow to tell me all about it.”

After making promises and exchanging well-wishes, Peyton ended the call with her mother. She took a moment to let her thoughts settle. What would her parents think of Darius? He didn’t have a high-powered, well-paying career like Bruce. However, there was more honor in his breath than Bruce had in his body. But why should she care what her parents thought of Darius, especially since Darius no longer wanted any part of her?

A pulse pounded in Darius’s temple as Peyton danced with Vaughn—again—during the Guiding Light Community Center’s fund-raiser Saturday night. Pink’s “Don’t Let Me Get Me” filled the center’s activity room, drawing most of the nearly three hundred guests to their feet. Darius was aware of only one couple on the makeshift dance floor. The rest of the dimly lit room, with its festive silver-and-black streamers and buffet tables, faded into the background.

His jaw clenched as the little professor shook her hips and moved her shoulders in front of the good-looking band director with the questionable goatee. They looked good together. Peyton’s little black dress wrapped her like an embrace and bared quite a bit of her legs for a January evening in the Midwest.

Darius gritted his teeth. How many more times were they going to dance with each other? Peyton had partnered with several other single men, too, including Foster Gooden, who was old enough to be her father.

Jackson joined Darius at the edge of the dance floor. “It was smart to host the fund-raiser the Saturday before TFU’s spring semester started. Lots of faculty, staff, and students here interacting with the rest of the community.” The Harmony Cabins resort owner paused. “Jealous?”

Darius cut his friend a look before shifting his attention back to the dance floor. He sipped the lemonade in his white paper cup. His right hand shook with the urge to crush the container in his fist.

Jackson gestured toward the dancers with his own paper cup. “Instead of glaring at Vaughn, why don’t you ask Peyton to dance?”

“Where’s Audra?” Darius kept his eyes on Peyton’s sexy little figure.

Quincy materialized on Darius’s other side. “Changing the subject isn’t going to resolve your problem.”

Darius turned to Quincy but paused in surprise. Ean and Alonzo also had joined them. The four friends stood in a line with Darius at the edge of the dance floor. What was this, an intervention?

Darius returned his attention to Peyton. “I don’t have a problem.”

Ean sipped his drink. “If you’re standing with friends while your woman is dancing with another man, you have a problem.”

Alonzo leaned forward to capture Darius’s attention with Ean and Quincy between them. The sheriff raised his voice to be heard above Pink’s music. “You’re good at giving advice. Now take some of your own. Whatever happened between you and Peyton, you can work it out.”

Quincy nodded. “You don’t have an advanced degree, but you’re smart enough to know she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Jackson patted Darius’s back. “Imagine your life without her.”

Darius’s blood ran cold at Jackson’s words. Ms. Helen’s voice sounded in his ears.
You were afraid you couldn’t fall in love. Now you’re afraid to be in love. Which do you fear less?”

Pink’s song came to an end, blending into Bruno Mars’s “Locked Out of Heaven.” Darius saw a young man—one of Peyton’s students?—making his way to her. Enough was enough.

“Here.” Darius handed his paper cup to Quincy, then fought his way through the crowded dance floor to Peyton. The student had gotten there before him. Darius gripped the young man’s shoulder and spoke into his ear. “Not tonight, pal.”

The student had the decency to leave with a smile.

Ignoring Vaughn completely, Darius reached out for Peyton’s hand and drew her away. In the middle of the crowded space, packed with moving, shaking, bouncing bodies, Darius just stared at Peyton, still holding her hand. Her caramel eyes were guarded.

Now what?

“Locked Out of Heaven” came to an abrupt end mid-lyric to be replaced by Ne-Yo’s “Because of You.” Peyton frowned, looking in the direction of Wesley Hayes, the event’s disc jockey. Darius doubted she could see the high school senior, but from Darius’s vantage point, he had a line of sight to the young man, surrounded by Audra, Megan, Ramona, Doreen, and Ms. Helen. Well, he couldn’t fault their choice of song. As the lyrics said, Peyton had become his addiction.

He held her eyes. Darius offered Peyton his free hand. “May I?” She hesitated and his heart stopped. “Please?”

Peyton took his hand and stepped closer. Darius rested her right hand on his shoulder and released her other hand to place both of his palms on her waist. He began moving with her in a small space on the packed floor. Her scent—talcum powder and lily of the valley—filled his head. Darius bit back a groan. Her body was warm and soft against him. He’d missed her so badly the past two weeks. Darius drew her closer.

“I don’t want to dance with you.” Peyton’s words, barely audible above the music, stopped Darius in his tracks. “I’d rather talk.”

He stepped back and looked down into the heart-shaped face that had haunted his dreams. He searched her bright eyes and noted the confident angle of her pointed chin. Darius took her hand. He led her past the dancers and into the hall. It wasn’t the most private of locations for the discussion Peyton apparently wanted, but it would have to do.

Peyton drew her hand free of his. “You wouldn’t return any of my calls. Now you want to hold me in your arms like nothing happened?”

Darius brought them to a stop near the rear exit to the parking lot. “I’m sorry. I should have returned your calls, but I didn’t know what to say.”

“You didn’t have to say anything.” Peyton spread her arms. “I just wanted you to listen.”

Darius shook his head. “You don’t have to explain or apologize—”

“I know.”

Darius’s words stumbled to a stop. “What?”

“While I waited, hoping you would call, I realized this wasn’t about my parents or my engagement. It’s about you and me, and whether you trust me.”

“I was surprised.” He was a reporter. Still he struggled to find the words to tell his own story.

“I understand that. But I wasn’t keeping secrets. I wasn’t lying by omission.” Peyton drew a deep breath. “I came to Trinity Falls to find myself and I’d hoped to do that with you.”

“Peyton—” Darius stepped forward.

Peyton stepped back. “But I agree that we can’t have a relationship without trust.”

Darius’s lips parted in surprise as she hurried from him. His muscles were frozen in shock. He forced them to move, rushing after her. There was a roaring in his ears. His heart had returned to gallop in his chest. Darius couldn’t breathe.

He caught her mere steps from the entrance to the center’s activity room. He turned her toward him, shackling her forearms with his hands. Darius drew Peyton with him as he backed into the first door he came to.

“What are you doing?” Peyton tried to pull free of his grasp.

“You think I don’t trust you?”

“This is a restroom.” She continued to struggle against him.

“If I didn’t trust you, I couldn’t have let my guard down with you.”

“It’s the women’s restroom.”

“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.”

Peyton shivered, then stilled in his hands. “You love me?”

Darius sighed but didn’t let her go. “Are you sure you have an advanced degree?”

“What?”

“Of course I love you.” Darius caressed her forearms, trailing his hands down the slim muscles. He felt her tremble beneath his touch. But she didn’t draw away. His pulse picked up speed. “I’ve loved you since the first day we met, when you frog-marched me out of your office.”

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“No.” He stepped closer. “Do you think I give a dozen yellow roses to everyone who refuses to let me interview them?”