He never could figure out what made him stop and offer her a ride. It was raining, but he’d passed her in the rain before and never cared. But that night he stopped and she climbed in. They hadn’t gone very far down the road before he was mesmerized by the way her wet shirt clung to the very nice breasts he’d never noticed she had.
She’d been very willing when he pulled his truck behind the closed gas station and slid over to her side of the seat. He couldn’t even remember now if he had kissed her, only that she’d had the funniest little smile on her face.
It was a warm and private smile. It seemed to speak of dreams coming true and contentment—even love. He remembered thinking at the time that she looked so happy, and he couldn’t figure out why.
That smile had haunted him for weeks after. A few times he had almost called her, wanting to apologize for using her the way he had. But shame and guilt kept him from dialing the number he had looked up in the book.
His phone rang first. Gena’s father told his father that she was pregnant and all hell broke loose. Not long after he was standing next to a girl he barely knew, promising to love and honor her til death did they part. He’d even pinched himself, standing there in front of the Justice of the Peace, but he hadn’t awakened from the nightmare.
And that’s why she had been smiling, he thought now. She was already scheming her way to the altar.
But he could survive one weekend with her. He probably wouldn’t even see much of her. Then he’d tell Kristen the Riverside Inn wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, and he would never see Gena again. She would be out of his life forever and he’d make damned sure he never came back to this town again—no matter how well she filled out her clothes.
* * * * *
Gena exhaled deeply and walked back into the dining room. The other guests had taken some fruit and pastries and scattered to the porch or TV room, leaving Travis seated at the long harvest table while his fiancée examined the contents of the large glass-fronted hutch.
“I love your collection of china,” Kristen said. “I’d love to collect things, too, but I don’t have the time to dust.”
Gena doubted very much that Kristen Sinclair did her own dusting, but she refrained from saying so. “Would you like to see the suite now?”
“Absolutely,” Travis said quickly, giving her the impression that he was uncomfortable being in the presence of both women at the same time.
She led them to the addition she had put on a year after buying the Inn. It was on the ground floor, away from the private residence and the other guest rooms, offering honeymooners a sense of secluded privacy.
They walked into the small, charmingly country sitting room furnished with a sofa, chair, and two small tables. She showed them the TV and VCR hidden in one built-in cabinet, and the small refrigerator, microwave, and bar in another. Off to the left was the bathroom, large enough to accommodate the massive oval hot tub that sat in an alcove. This room had been the most costly improvement she made to the Inn, but it was a luxury that kept people coming back.
The bedroom was in the back. Gena had refinished the cherry king-sized sleigh bed herself, and her mother had made the exquisite double wedding ring quilt draped over it. The room was romantic without being overly feminine, and it had always been Gena’s favorite.
Seeing Travis standing in the middle of the hand-braided rug made her anxious to leave it, however. Especially when Kristen sat on the edge and dragged him down beside her.
“I just adore this room,” she said, squeezing his hand.
Travis nodded, but didn’t say anything. He was probably waiting for her to leave before he started pointing out reasons why they shouldn’t hold their wedding reception here.
“Breakfast is served in the dining room from eight until ten in the morning, but I stop making omelets at nine-thirty. I always have pastries and beverages in the dining room from three to four in the afternoon.”
She had promised Mia she wouldn’t forget to mention the optional breakfast-in-bed service, but she didn’t think she could handle seeing Travis and his fiancée tussled from sleep—maybe even lovemaking.
She had to struggle to keep her voice from shaking. “There’s a basket of restaurant menus on the table in the sitting room, as well as a map of the town, which of course you don’t need since…”
She broke off when Travis turned a startled glance her way. “Ms. Sinclair—Kristen, I mean—told me you were from here originally.”
“He is,” Kristen confirmed. “You guys look about the same age. Would you have gone to school together?”
“I didn’t live here then,” Gena lied, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. The tension went out of Travis’s shoulders, and she cursed herself for covering for him. What did she care if he got in trouble with his fiancée? It would serve him right for not telling her the truth in the first place.
Kristen stood and slipped off her shoes. “The car ride up gave me a bit of a headache and I need some quiet time. Travis is so good with practical details, but I’m not in the mood to watch him count electrical outlets. Would you mind showing him around while I lie down for a bit?”
Would I mind? She’d rather walk across hot coals with a boa constrictor wrapped around her neck. “Of course I don’t mind.”
And she had her work cut out for her because Travis Ryan didn’t look the least bit eager to be shown around.
Chapter Two
He looked even less amused once they were alone in the dining room again. “I’ll find something to do on my own,” he said in a tight voice. “You’re the last person I need trying to amuse me.”
Although it was hard, Gena managed to plaster a pleasant smile on her face. Hospitality was her business, and being rude was only going to make this situation worse.
“Would you like to see the grounds?” she asked as politely as she could.
He smirked and shook his head. “I can’t believe you can talk to me like nothing ever happened. Not after what you did. I know it’s been a long time, but you came this close to ruining my life.”
Enough was enough. Politeness flew out the window in the face of his accusation. She pointed her finger at him, her spark of anger surprising them both. “Don’t you think you’ve held that grudge long enough? I wasn’t the only guilty party, Travis.”
“You are the only one who pretended to be pregnant to catch a husband you didn’t stand a snowball’s chance of getting otherwise.”
“I didn’t…” Gena’s words trailed off when she realized there was no way to deny his charges without admitting they shared a daughter. If she told him she really was pregnant when he left, she’d have to tell him about Mia.
So just tell him. The thought took her off guard, but she considered it for a moment. She could just look him in the eye and tell him he was a father. Maybe he did have a right to know, and he wasn’t the only one clinging to an old grudge. She couldn’t deny she was still angry about how he had treated her.
It looked like it was time to face the music. She only hoped Travis took the news better than he was taking seeing her again.
But she couldn’t do it without talking to Mia first. Meeting her father face to face wasn’t something Gena could just spring on her. For now she was forced to play the guilty party.
But a snowball’s chance? That she didn’t have to take. “Don’t you think a little highly of yourself?” she asked in an edgy voice.
“Just being honest. You were too shy, and to tell you the truth, you weren’t much to look at…then.”
Their eyes met, and Gena felt heat creep up her neck and over her cheeks. So Travis Ryan thought she was attractive? Her heart skipped a beat even though it didn’t matter. He was about fifteen years too late.
She bit down on an indignant reply and watched him pour another cup of coffee. If she was seriously going to consider introducing her daughter to this man, then she had to make peace with him. She wouldn’t dump Mia in the middle of a conflict older than she
was. Surely two mature adults could manage a little small talk.
“So tell me what you do for a living,” she said in a softer voice as she sat across the table from him.
He looked at her warily, as if he suspected her of scheming to get at his bank accounts. “I counsel high school and college athletes.”
Gena saw that having a discussion with him was going to be like pulling teeth. “Counsel them? Like a guidance counselor?”
“Not exactly. I’m in private practice. Kids that excel at sports feel a lot of pressure. The expectations are high, and when failure ceases to be an option for them, they start to crack. The pressure put on them by parents, coaches, teachers—even their peers—is extreme, and I help them cope.”
“Did you feel that way? Is that why you do it?”
Travis leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I guess I did. After our…divorce, when I was back on track, the pressure was insane. Not only did I have the old expectations, but I had to redeem myself, too.”
She almost apologized, but stopped herself. She had nothing to be sorry for. “What did you do?”
“I dropped out of B.C. in my sophomore year and took off—traveled around for a while. I needed to breathe—figure out who I was. Then I went back and enrolled in a community college and got my degree. I try to help kids before they reach that breaking point.”
Gena smiled. “I never pictured you as the kind of guy who’d give up his dream to help others.”
“I didn’t give up on my dream. The dream just changed, that’s all.”
Gena felt unreal, sitting at her own table having a conversation with Travis Ryan. A civil conversation, no less. It was a good sign, and it gave her hope that he could be reasonable enough not to punish Mia for her mother’s mistakes. If I tell him.
She couldn’t remember every really talking to him. The night Mia was conceived the only thing she remembered him saying was, “Do you want a ride?” Their wedding night was spent apart—her on the couch crying, and him in the locked bedroom with the stereo turned up high. A few days later she had asked him if he’d thought of any names he might like for the baby and he’d left tread marks on the driveway in his rush to leave.
That’s in the past, she tried to tell herself, but it was hard when the face of her adolescent dreams—and nightmares—was sitting across from her. How different would her life have been if she hadn’t let him walk out the door without an explanation?
Travis swirled the last mouthful of coffee in the bottom of the cup because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. It was awkward, sitting at the dining room table with a woman he’d done nothing but hate for fifteen years.
He tried to recall why she’d been so unpopular at school. He knew she was smart and a little bookwormish, but that wasn’t such a bad thing. And she’d gone through a not-so-attractive stage, but she couldn’t have been that bad if she came out looking like this.
He didn’t know why he’d answered her questions either. It was none of her business what he did, and she’d lost her chance at cashing his paychecks. The Mercedes in the driveway was Kristen’s, so if that’s what made her so friendly, she was barking up the wrong tree.
Kristen. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to his fiancée. He’d always known that he’d have to provide proof of divorce to get their marriage license, and he’d planned to tell her about his first marriage before that happened. Just not yet.
Whenever he had considered telling Kristen about Gena, he had been too ashamed to find the words. While his ex-wife’s crime was certainly greater, his own behavior had been almost as reprehensible. It wasn’t something he was eager to share with the woman he was going to marry.
How would she react when she saw Gena Taylor’s name on the divorce decree? He didn’t want to tell her now and ruin her weekend, but when she found out later who their hostess was she would be livid. No doubt she would accuse him of hiding it from her—and lying to her—and he wouldn’t be able to deny it.
He watched Gena stand and start piling dirty dishes onto a tray. She moved with a simple grace that lulled him into watching her work.
“I don’t remember you being a redhead.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud.
She raised a hand to her hair and laughed, and the sound of it tickled the pit of his stomach. “It’s not really that red, more of a brownish-auburn, but it has lightened as I’ve gotten older.”
He refrained from telling her she looked good, and tried to keep his eyes on the table instead of her. He had little success. Her hips swayed ever so gently when she walked, and his gaze caressed the full roundness of her bottom.
“Damn,” he whispered, getting Gena’s full attention. He slammed the mug down and stood. “I’m going to watch TV in the suite until Kristen gets up. Then we’ll grab some dinner. I probably won’t see you again until breakfast.”
* * * * *
Gena waited until after eight to put the sign on the kitchen door that announced she was out and listed her cell phone number. Her guests were either enjoying an evening out or in their rooms for the night, Travis and Kristen being among the latter.
She had stood at the window and watched the Mercedes leave, then heard them return two hours later. Kristen was hanging on his arm, laughing up at him, and Gena had turned away from the window when he smiled back at her. How many of her childhood years had she spent wishing he would smile at her that way?
Too many. All of them wasted, except for the moment they made Mia. And now it was time to try to explain that moment and all the decisions that came after it to her daughter.
During the short drive to the Carter house, Gena wrestled with her decision. Would telling Mia and Travis about each other do more harm than good?
She had the list in her pocket. Mia teased her constantly because she wrote out the pros and cons for almost every major decision she had to make. And she’d never made a decision bigger than this one.
Pros: Mia would have a father in her life. She didn’t seem to miss having one and didn’t often talk about it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t secretly yearn for one. And Travis would finally know Gena wasn’t the scheming liar he thought she was. She’d been unpleasantly surprised to discover his opinion of her mattered enough to merit being on the list.
She hadn’t seen the man in a decade and a half. He had trampled on her heart. Why should she care if he thought she was a lying gold-digger? But for some reason his words to her in the dining room had hurt, and she wanted him to know they weren’t true.
A big consideration was the fact that she wouldn’t have to go it alone anymore. She’d have a co-parent. She tried not to think about the college expenses lying in wait, but she couldn’t help hoping Travis would contribute a little.
Cons: Mia would be angry when she found out her father had lived three hours away for her entire life. And what if she didn’t forgive her for not telling Travis about her?
And what if Travis doesn’t care? Maybe he and his wife-to-be didn’t want a teenage daughter. If Gena told Mia about Travis only to be spurned by him, her daughter would be devastated.
The possibility of Mia not forgiving her alone was enough for the cons to outweigh the pros, yet she was doing it anyway. It was the right thing to do. She just hoped it wasn’t a decision she would regret.
The Carter kids were young and should be in bed, so Gena knocked softly on the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Mom,” she said through the door.
“How do I know it’s really you?” Mia asked, but Gena could hear the laughter in her voice.
“I know your middle name is Dawn.”
“Public record.”
“I know your lucky pair of underwear has Panda bears on the butt.”
A little giggle. “So you’re a perverted, drawer-snooping burglar.”
“Who knows you have a crush on Mark Whittemore?”
“Mom!” Mia protested as she yanked open the door. “It’s not a crush! It�
�s unrequited love.”
Unrequited love. Gena knew all about that. “We need to talk, sweetie.”
Mia frowned and closed the door behind her mother. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s sit down.” Gena watched her daughter walk across the living room. She had her father’s thick blonde curls, her father’s Caribbean blue eyes. His height, his nose, his chin. It almost hurt just to look at her.
“Is it Gramma or Grampa?” Mia asked when they were settled on the sofa.
“They’re fine, sweetie.” She wasn’t sure she could find the right words to tell her. “It’s actually about…it’s about Kristen Sinclair and her fiancé.”
“Oh, no! Did they cancel?”
Gena shook her head, then took a deep breath. “Her fiance’s name is Travis Ryan.”
“Travis Ryan…My dad?” Gena nodded and Mia’s eyes widened in surprise. “He’s…She’s marrying my father? He’s at our house? Right now?”
“Yes.”
Mia stood and started pacing, something she only did when she was very upset. “You said he left before I was born. He didn’t know about me. How did he end up here?”
“It’s just a coincidence. Kristen made all the arrangements and she had no reason to think we knew each other.”
“He’s the Travis Ryan who lives in Boston? The sports shrink?”
Gena was stunned, and her heart beat faster in her chest. “How did you know that?”
“Because I looked for him, Mom. On the Internet.” She paced a faster, shorter line. “What did you expect? I don’t have a dad. Kids are supposed to have dads. Of course I looked for mine.”
How could I not know that? It was on the tip of Gena’s tongue to ask if she had ever tried to contact him, but she already knew that answer. She would know if Travis had heard from his daughter.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were trying to find him?” she whispered.
Forever Again Page 2