Yesterday's Gone (Two Daughters Book 1) (21 page)

He sighed. Should he raise the subject again? Push a little, try to find out whether she’d reacted only out of fear, or whether she just didn’t feel that much for him?

Instinct told him that, unless she said something, he had to back off for now. She’d started by issuing a warning:
I’m going and you can’t stop me, so don’t even try
. Then he tried anyway, and that sent her into full retreat. Giving up—that wasn’t in him, but patience was going to be hard to come by this time.

Despite his determination, he was left wounded enough he almost hoped she’d head for the guest room tonight rather than assume they’d cavort in bed like always. He gritted his teeth hard enough to crack a molar.
I’m being an idiot
. If he was serious about her, what he needed to do was use every minute left to them to tempt her. Make sure she understood that he would never hurt her. Lower his pride enough to make sure she knew how he felt—assuming what he’d already said wasn’t enough.

If
he was serious. What a crock. Of course he was. Had been since he’d galloped straight past the lust at first sight and got to know the complex, fearful, brave, smart woman she was. Hadn’t he just offered to quit his job and move to LA—concrete and smog?

He sensed her presence before he turned his head and saw her approaching the table, a cup of coffee in each hand. Her eyes held trepidation, which shook him. Was she
afraid
of him?

Pretending not to notice, he said, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She set down his cup and carried her own to the other side of the table. To the place that had, in a matter of days, become
hers
. “I didn’t even ask how your day was.”

He’d take as encouragement the fact that she actually looked as if she cared.

“I talked to Drew Stuart.”

She nodded. It wasn’t as if she’d have forgotten FBI Special Agent Andrew Stuart. Hamby was on the FBI radar big-time now, given his predatory nature and frequent crisscrossing of state lines. Seth had never had occasion to work with the FBI before, although he’d heard enough stories to be wary. There hadn’t been any need. Stuart had been gentle with Bailey and seemingly open with Seth during their continuing phone calls. He wanted Hamby, too, and had more resources than Seth did.

“Under the name Anna gave us, he was picked up for drunk driving in eastern Washington.” He paused, still feeling the intensity of the hunt. “Only eight months ago. No child with him. He spent the night in the Grant County jail, set up a payment schedule for the fine and hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”

“He went back to pick her up wherever he’d stashed her,” Bailey said flatly.

“Probably.” He gusted a sigh. “He might be between.”

Her troubled blue eyes met his. “Do you think he made another name change after that?”

“I think he probably just hightailed it out of the state,” he said in a hard voice.

“But...he must have seen articles about me. Even though he’s changed his name once, what if he does again?”

“Why would he? And, remember, it’s not that easy to do. He can’t afford good quality fakes.”

She nodded. Those eyes dominated a face that had become pale. “He may not come back to Washington for a long time.”

“I think you’re right. Doesn’t matter, though. We have a BOLO out. Stuart has been talking to agencies in a six-state region. Hamby’s name—
both
names—are flagged. He’s in deep shit if the state patrol anywhere pulls him over.”

“You really think you’ll catch him.” Her hands wrapped her cup of coffee more as if she was warming them than as if she had any intention of taking a sip.

“Probably not me personally,” he conceded, wishing like hell he’d have the chance, “but I have every intention of keeping the pressure on. Next time he gets behind the wheel drunk, plants a fist in someone’s face or has a taillight out, his name should light up in neon colors when an officer runs his license.”

Bailey gazed down into her coffee. “If only I’d—”

“I thought we’d laid your guilt to rest.”

“It’s...hard.”

“I know, honey,” he said huskily. “I know it is.”

She lifted one shoulder before looking up. He knew even before she opened her mouth that she didn’t want to talk about Hamby anymore. And surely not about them.

“You’re really okay with me having Karen and Kirk here for dinner tomorrow?”

His eyebrows quirked. “Is it so hard to say ‘Mom and Dad’?”

The expression in her eyes damn near broke his heart. He’d just had to open his big mouth.

“I’m trying.”

Seth nodded. “Yes, I’m glad to have them here for dinner. They’re good people, and they’re your parents.” He laid some emphasis on the last, not surprised by the hint of nerves he saw on her face before she pulled up a smile.

“Mom’s such a good cook, I feel challenged. Gotta produce my best.” Rambling on, she suggested and discarded half a dozen menus.

When he said he thought everything she’d cooked had been as good as her mother’s meals, Bailey made a face at him. “You’re like a perpetually hungry teenage boy who inhales whatever somebody puts in front of him.” She frowned. “What do you
do
with all those calories?”

He patted his stomach. “Metabolize ’em.” With a grimace, he added, “Usually I run, lift weights at the gym, get up in the mountains with a pack. Belt felt a little tight this morning.”

“Oh, God, it’s going to be grim when I get back to the gym. It’s been
weeks
. Plus, usually I’m on my feet and hefting trays of food at the restaurant. An eight-hour shift is a workout, believe me.”

He didn’t like the reminder of how soon she’d be gone, but did his best to hide his reaction. “I do. I’ve always wondered how waitresses keep smiling.”

“Tips,” she informed him. “The sunnier the smile, the higher the tips.”

“Bet yours are sky-high,” he said, voice a note lower than usual.

“If that’s a compliment, I thank you, sir.” The bright smile she offered just before she jumped to her feet was the kind she’d offer diners at Canosa, he guessed. Did any of them ever suspect it was as fake as a counterfeit hundred-dollar bill? The spots of color on her cheeks, though, that was something different. “I need to finish cleaning the kitchen,” she said over her shoulder.

Right before she fled, leaving him to brood about his next move. Less inept than the last, he hoped.

* * *

T
HEY
HADN
’
T
EXACTLY
had a fight, but Bailey knew she’d hurt Seth. Of course he’d shut down. She was lucky he’d been willing to talk to her after, that he could still say,
I know, honey
, in that tender voice.

Just thinking again about his offer to move, for her, made her start to hyperventilate. He said he admired her courage, but she didn’t feel brave. In fact, she’d never felt more like a coward. Couldn’t he see that? And if he did, why would he want her?

Sex—he could do that with other women.

Yes, but what she and Seth did wasn’t just sex, meaningless and lacking real emotion. It was making love. And that knowledge explained the panic that had her heart beating at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings.

Because now she had a new fear. Had Seth accepted her no as final? What kind of fool was she to hope that, well, he hadn’t? That he’d give her time to figure out how much of what she felt now was real? And even if it was—did she really think she had even a glimmer of an idea how to love a man and accept his love? How to have a normal life?

Would he still want her in his bed tonight?

He was in the living room watching a baseball game. She stood just out of sight for a long time, hugging herself and feeling lonely in a way she didn’t when she was really alone. As she was used to being.

Finally she nerved herself to peek around the corner. Seth didn’t look as if he was enjoying himself. His expression was withdrawn, preoccupied. Some kind of action erupted in the game that had a player leaping into the air in an attempt to catch a ball that cleared his glove by inches. He smashed into a barrier and crashed to the artificial turf. Although Seth’s gaze was trained on the TV, he showed no reaction to the action. He didn’t care—or he didn’t see it at all.

Bailey closed her eyes for a minute, took a deep breath and strolled into the living room, nonchalant. “Hi,” she said.

His head turned and his gaze snapped to hers. He didn’t say anything.

She nodded at the TV. “Who’s winning?”

“Ah...” He glanced back at the game, telling her she’d been right. He’d been oblivious to the action.

“I’m bored,” she said softly. She sauntered closer, giving her hips a little extra swing.

His eyes darkened.

Bailey took a chance and plopped herself down on his lap. To her relief, his arm came around her. His mouth tilted. “Want to go out dancing?”

“I haven’t actually been dancing in years,” she confessed. “Since my wild phase.”

He gave a crooked smile. “I’ve been a couple of times in the last few years.” He paused a beat. “Reluctantly.”

“I’ve always thought I’d like to learn to ballroom dance, though.” She snuggled in, lifting a hand to his hard jaw. “I might take a class.”

“Don’t you need a partner?” He could have been strangling.

“Um.” Bailey loved the rasp of his evening stubble against her palm, which had never felt more sensitive. “A partner is good.” She sounded sultry.

“If this is an attempted seduction, it’s working.” Seth tilted his head enough to kiss her palm, then flick his tongue out. At her shiver, a dark gleam showed in his eye.

“Well, there’s the boredom factor,” she said lightly.

His hand slid up to cup her breast, gently shaping and reshaping it. “We ought to be able to take care of that.”

“Please,” she whispered, and kissed his throat.

A groan rumbled out of him and he groped to one side to lower the leg support on the recliner. “Bed.”

“I don’t know. I was kind of thinking this chair had possibilities.”

Seth froze.

“Do you have a condom in your wallet? Or do I need to go fetch?”

Jaw tight, he ground out, “I have one.”

Bailey batted her eyes. “So you can be spontaneous?”

“Something like that. Damn.” With no warning, he yanked her shirt over her head and sent first it, then her bra flying. A fraction of a second later, his mouth closed over her breast, hot, wet and urgent.

Bailey arched her back, moaned and tangled her fingers in his dark hair, holding herself up, and him close.

Every tug of his mouth sent a spasm through her. He switched to her other breast and she wriggled on his lap, wanting—

Eyes heated, he lifted his head and gripped her around the waist. “Straddle me.”

That
was what she wanted. Once her knees were locked to each side of his hips, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was all-out. The recliner rocked as their bodies rocked, intensifying the sensation. She rode the hard ridge beneath her, wanting him naked but also discovering the zipper and denim fly felt really good.

It was Seth who wrenched his mouth away and looked at her with eyes so heated, they singed her skin. “Enough!” he growled before tearing his shirt off, then zeroing in on the button at her waist and her zipper. “Bailey,” he said desperately. “Up.”

Mind fogged, she tried rising on her knees before realizing that, no, her jeans weren’t coming off unless she stood up. She slid off his lap, him grimacing, and they both peeled the denim and panties down. She ached. Every touch of his hands laid a trail of fire in its path. She looked down to see that she still wore fuzzy socks, but didn’t care. She scrambled back onto him even as he said, “Wait. Let me—”

She helped. He lifted his hips enough to grab his wallet, take out the condom and pull the jeans down enough to free his erection. The wallet thumped to the floor and he tore open the wrapper.

“Let me,” Bailey whispered.

“I don’t know if I can.
God
.” It sounded like a prayer, but he handed her the condom and watched as she slowly, delicately, covered him. And then with a strangled sound, he lifted her into place and lowered her until he was pushing inside her, going deep, so deep.

Each hard thrust rocked the chair. They looked into each other’s eyes as they moved. Bailey couldn’t even blink. She was so turned on it didn’t take a minute before she began to spasm, a keening sound escaping. Seth grabbed her hips, lifted and pressed her down, once, twice, his back arching so he could go deeper than seemed humanly possible. And just as she felt the throbbing inside, he flung back his head, his eyes closing at last, his grimace in the throes of pleasure fiercely male.

It was a very long time before they moved at all. And when they did, he cut off the TV with a stab on the remote, still ignorant of the score. Clothes were left where they were.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“S
O
.” B
AILEY
DIPPED
a tortilla chip in salsa, studying her “sister,” who faced her across the table in the restaurant booth. “Do you still hate me so much you kick your puppy every time I cross your mind?”

Eve’s dark, sculpted eyebrows rose. “I don’t have a puppy.”

“Someone else’s puppy, then.” Bailey popped the chip in her mouth. The salsa had enough bite to be surprisingly good.

Suddenly Eve laughed. Really cracked up. “No. Not that much, anyway.”

Her own mouth curved. “Just a little?”

Eve grabbed her napkin and dabbed below her eyes. What was left of her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

“Because I’m blonde and blue eyed? Because I have such a sweetly sentimental name? Because you didn’t get a canopy bed and I did?” Bailey never looked away from her even as she dipped some more salsa. “Or because of Seth?”

Eve gazed coolly back. “
E
, all of the above?”

Bailey nodded. “Just so you know, I’m leaving tomorrow. Don’t tell Mom and Dad. I’m making dinner for them tonight. I thought we could have a nice evening before I rip the bandage off.”

“Really? You have to go back already?”

“I could have stayed a couple more days.” Bailey surprised herself with her honesty. With the fact that she wanted to tell someone the truth, and had chosen this maybe sister. She shrugged. “But I thought I’d just get it over with. You know?”

Bitter chocolate eyes warmed with what she thought might be sympathy. “I hate goodbyes, too,” Eve said. She made a face. “Once you know...”

When she hesitated, Bailey finished for her. “How often they’re permanent.”

“Maybe that’s it.” Eve turned her head and smiled, and Bailey realized the waiter was bringing their entrées. A vegetarian burrito for Eve, a quesadilla for Bailey. Both looked and smelled wonderful.

“This was a good suggestion,” she said after he’d left them alone again. “We have fabulous Mexican food in LA, but I wouldn’t have expected it up here.”

“Are you kidding?” Eve said. “Every crop in the state is harvested with migrant labor. Plenty of people like the area and stay. Skagit County just north of us is heavily Hispanic. Some of the elementary schools are half-day Spanish. We have active immigration issues, too.”

“Really.”

“You didn’t ask, but, yes, my mother was Latina. She was actually from Costa Rica.”

“Thus the gorgeous hair.”

Eve stared at her incredulously. “You think
my
hair is beautiful, when
yours
is gilt?”

Bailey set down her fork. “I guess that answers my original question, doesn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What you really mean is my hair is the color of Mom’s. Right?”

Eve closed her eyes and visibly fought some dark emotion. When she opened them again, she looked regretful. “I guess I do. And you’re right, I am jealous. But it’s not your fault. I’m just...” She trailed off, seemingly groping for words.

Bailey sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you on it. I don’t blame you for feeling jealous. Just living with that bedroom right across the hall from yours is reason enough. I know they meant well, but seeing that perfect little girl’s bedroom, frozen in time, must have been worse than sharing Mom and Dad with a little princess of a sister would have been.”

“Yes.” The word was choked. “It was. Mom would go in there to dust or vacuum, and I’d hear her crying. I know they care about me. I know I’m lucky, but I always wondered what would happen if you came home. Would they still want me?”

“You know better than that.”

“Yeah.” She half laughed. “Of course I do. They’re nice people. They wouldn’t reject one child in favor of another. I do know that. Here.” She touched her temple.

Bailey nodded. “I understand.”

“So. You will be back, won’t you?”

“Yes. I couldn’t do that to them, even if I didn’t want family.”

Eve’s dark eyes were almost as knowing as Seth’s. “
Do
you want family?”

The “yes” was wrenched out of her. The “no” came more slowly. “I keep panicking,” she finally admitted.

“With Seth, too? Or is long-term not an issue?”

Bailey frowned. “Do you really want to talk about Seth?”

“I actually don’t mind.” She offered a twisted smile. “To my surprise.”

“You mean that.”

“I do. I was really hurt I didn’t keep his interest, but it was partly pride.” She hesitated, then made a face. “Being brutally honest here, some of my tangled feelings had to do with the fact that he jumped right on your story and became completely fixated on finding you. Bringing Hope Home.” Her tone made it a headline. “And, not so coincidentally, that was when he lost interest in me.”

“Because his interest turned instead to the missing, golden-haired, perfect daughter who, all unknowing, had been your rival for years and years.”

Eve’s pretty face went through some more contortions. “Got it in one,” she finally admitted. “That doesn’t say anything very nice about me, I know—”

Bailey snorted. “Oh, come on. How could you
not
feel that way?”

Another incredulous stare was followed by a short, sharp laugh. “You know what? I think I could get to like you.”

Bailey let herself laugh, too. “I...actually kind of hope so.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to avoid using the word
hope
?”

“Are you kidding?” This chuckle was more relaxed. “I’m a past master. I even dug out a thesaurus. I never hoped for something, I
wished
for it.
Wish
was one of my favorite words.
Want
is good, too. I used to
wish
we were British so I could have a
fancy
for something.”

Bailey shook her head. “Obviously, I need to explore the alternatives.”

“You do that, because Mom is
not
going to accept that your name is Bailey.”

“I got that.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Then Eve said, “Only one more year to your degree.”

Stabbed by pain at the reminder that she would be back in her old life by tomorrow night, Bailey agreed. Because they had to talk about something, she told Eve some of what she’d been thinking.

“I always knew I wanted to be a social worker—”

“Because one rescued you along the way?”

Their eyes met. Eve nodded slowly. “Guess neither of us are hard to figure out.”

“Nope.”

“You know the graduate program in psychology at the UW is highly regarded, don’t you?”

“I did notice, but...” Her mouth twisted. “Whether I come here will depend on a lot of factors.”

“Like Seth.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But also I have to be accepted. I’ll need to look at other programs, probably apply at several. And, ugh, I suppose the GRE is in my near future.”

“Ya think?” Eve said cheerfully. “You might want to brush up on that math.”

“More ugh. Although I kind of liked stats, even though I don’t want to do research.”

They were off, trading stories of favorite classes, educational debacles, past jobs. Eve even shared a few war stories from her current job as a caseworker with the Department of Social and Health Services.

Eve insisted on paying for both of them. “
I’m
working full-time.”

In the parking lot, they reached Bailey’s car first. She unlocked, then faced Eve. “Thanks for lunch. I guess this is goodbye until, I don’t know yet, Thanksgiving or Christmas maybe.”

“You have my phone number. You could call.”

Bailey grinned. “If talking to me won’t make you want to kick a puppy.”

Eve laughed again, then leaned in for a quick, hard hug. Her dark eyes shimmered when she stepped back. “Take care,” she said, and hurried away.

Bailey blinked and discovered her own eyes burned. So, okay, it wouldn’t be so bad to have an almost sister.

* * *

H
ER
ANNOUNCEMENT
OVER
coffee that evening went less well.

She tried not to look at Seth, but couldn’t help noticing how very still he had gone. Both her parents stared at her in shock.

“But...tomorrow?” her mother faltered.

“My boss at the restaurant gave me a deadline, and I really don’t want to lose the job.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, because she hadn’t told them
when
the deadline was.

“But—”

Kirk’s hand covered his wife’s, and she quit talking. He said calmly, “We’d have liked you to stay longer, Bailey, but we understand. There’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you. We put away money all these years to pay for college for you, in the belief you’d have the chance. We can make this last year a little easier for you, let you concentrate on your studies and not work the hours I suspect you do. The rest can go toward graduate school, if that’s what you decide to do.”

She opened her mouth, but couldn’t say a word. Oh, damn. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she snatched up her napkin to mop them up. Seth had said they might do something like this, but she hadn’t taken him seriously. Now—

“I can’t believe— Oh.” They both watched her kindly, her father smiling. Seth, she didn’t know. She still couldn’t look at him.

I should have told him first
.

But her parents had already been here when he walked in the door.

She could have called him.

Should have called him. Of course he was hurt.

Did I do it on purpose? Did I
want
to hurt him?

Oh, God. Maybe.

Think about it later
, she ordered herself.

Right now... She sucked in a few breaths and managed to mostly stop crying.

She gazed at the two people looking back at her so hopefully.
No, no—choose a different word
. Her mind took a byway.
Wishfully? Dreamily? Fancifully?
Of course, none of them worked.

“I can’t believe you really saved money when I’d been gone so long. Are you sure you aren’t trying to give me your retirement income?”

Her father shook his head. “We really did, Bailey. It was a way of...” He hesitated.

“Showing faith,” her mother said. “Giving our belief substance.”

After that, there was no way she could refuse their help, even though she’d learned to take great pride in accomplishing everything on her own.

Seth stood up and began clearing the table. Bailey let him, listening as her parents detailed what they intended to do for her.

Finally she circled the table to hug them each in turn. And, damn it, she was crying again. So was her mother.

Sitting back down, Bailey wiped her cheeks again and firmly blew her nose. Then she looked at her parents. “I could probably change my flight, but—” How to say this?

She didn’t have to. Her father only nodded. “You need to go.” His voice was impossibly gentle. His smile was sad. “Regroup. Get ready to start classes.”

Bailey nodded and kept nodding until she forced herself to stop.
Yes
. She needed to separate herself from all these people and find out whether these feelings were real or situational.

Did Seth understand, too?

He might have, if she hadn’t just blindsided him.

And I did that because I was afraid I couldn’t leave him
, she thought, stunned by what she knew was the truth. She’d needed to drive him away before he asked her again to stay, or to commit to something that still frightened her. Because she might have succumbed despite this desperate need to have room to breathe and think.

The knowledge felt right.

Seth quietly refilled all their coffee cups, then retired to the kitchen. Bailey told her parents about having lunch with Eve. “We have a lot in common,” she said.

“We know,” her mother murmured. “Some of it, I wish neither of you had had to go through.”

“I wish we hadn’t, either, but it’s part of what makes us who we are. And maybe will allow both of us to help kids who’ve gone through some of the same stuff, the way Eve already is.”

Karen had been looking weepy again; now she smiled tremulously. “We’re so proud of both of you.”

“Thank you.” Bailey managed an answering smile. “But don’t say any more, or I’ll be sobbing again.”

The dreaded moment came when she walked them out and had to say goodbye. Through her tears, she hardly saw their car back into the street and drive away.

Still blinded by this completely unfamiliar grief—another new emotion to pin up on the bulletin board of her life—she stumbled back into the house. And, oh, God, she now had to face Seth.

* * *

B
EING
PISSED
WAS
all that held the pain at bay.

Seth could not freaking
believe
she had booked a flight for tomorrow without telling him. So that was it. Thanks, and goodbye.

And, goddamn it, but he hurt.

He rinsed off plates and filled the dishwasher, then began washing pans because it gave him something to do while he waited for her. Or would she even pause to talk to him on her way to pack?

He heard a soft footfall behind him. Setting the last pan in the dish drainer, Seth reached for a hand towel and turned slowly to find Bailey hovering in the doorway. Her face was blotchy, her eyes puffy, the way she held herself achingly uncertain. He contrasted the Bailey who faced him now with the brittle, defiant woman he’d first met, the one who didn’t want to feel anything.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you first.”

His jaw flexed. “Why didn’t you?”

“I only made the reservation this afternoon. And...and my parents got here before you.”

“But you must have already made up your mind to leave tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened at his implacable tone. “No, I—” She swallowed. “My thinking was...vague until I studied flights.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What does a day or two matter?” she cried.

“You’re eager to get the hell away from here, aren’t you?” Staying mad seemed to be his only defense against the need to beg.

“No!” Her throat moved. “Oh, in a way, but not like you’re suggesting.”