Lovers Like Us

by Mary Campisi

  Chapter 16

  Camille’s next mission involved an afternoon meeting and coffee with Rose Donovan during which she planned to share Lester Conroy’s findings about Luke’s wife. Wife was a loose term and an incorrect one, as Rose would discover soon enough. She hadn’t seen Rose since she’d told Luke the truth about Helena, but she’d called her and left a cryptic message. It’s done. No need to worry about Luke anymore. She’d been a bit surprised when Rose did not return the call to inquire about the details, though when she considered her sister-in-law’s fragile nature, it made sense that she might prefer a face-to-face conversation.

  Still, the lack of a response seemed a bit odd. Camille sat in Rose’s kitchen, sipping fresh-brewed coffee and sampling a slice of lemon pound cake. Spending time in the kitchen had always been a balm to Camille and, with Carter out of the house, she didn’t need to sneak around when she wanted to whip up a dish. She eyed Rose over the rim of her coffee mug, said in a quiet voice, “I thought I would have heard from you by now.”

  “Was I supposed to return your call?” Rose’s brows pinched together, her blue eyes narrowed. “I did receive your message, but I must admit I was a bit confused. I’m not sure I understand what you were talking about.”

  Goodness, Rose did look confused. In fact, Camille wondered if the doctor had increased her medications or if she hadn’t been sleeping. Maybe she was going through another bout of guilt and melancholy over Jonathan’s death. It could be any or all of these and adding Luke’s predicament might not be a good idea. Still, Rose had inquired and hinted that she had her own questions. Was it not Camille’s duty to answer them? “We talked about Helena’s background, remember? We both wondered about it, and I told you I would find out more.”

  “We did?” Rose rubbed her temples, her expression a mix of confusion and distress. She’d once confessed that her brain became a jumble when faced with difficult situations and it was often hard to sort out. Was that what had happened? Had the concerns over Helena’s background been so much for Rose that she simply refused to address the problem?

  “Yes, we talked. I was going to do a little investigating…” Better not say too much until she determined Rose’s mental state.

  “I don’t recall.” Her voice switched from confusion to a burst of joy, and that joy spread across her face. “Did you hear that Luke and Helena are going to renew their marriage vows? Yes, indeed they are.” She nodded her dark head, blue eyes bright, lips pulled into a wide smile, so different from the Rose Donovan of five seconds ago. “Martin Olanski will officiate, and I’m almost finished with Helena’s wedding handkerchief. Oh, but I can’t wait. I worried so about Lucas, all those years of never knowing if he’d find his place or the woman who could settle him down and heal his troubled heart. But Helena’s the one.” More smiling, more joy bouncing from her face to her small hands as she raised them toward the ceiling. “Jonathan will be so pleased. Our troubled boy has been found.”

  Camille could stomach no more than three bites of lemon pound cake and a few sips of coffee before she excused herself, saying she had an appointment she’d almost forgotten. That wasn’t exactly true, but she did have an urgent meeting that needed to take place, as in now. She called Tate, informed him she must speak with him immediately regarding a delicate matter. Thank goodness, he was not on an appointment. Ten minutes later, she strode into the large office that had once been Harrison’s. Tate belonged here, a symbol of integrity, goodwill, and trust, so unlike his father, who’d possessed none of those. She squared her shoulders, headed toward the massive desk where her nephew sat, and plunked her handbag on it. “We’ve got a problem. A massive one that’s about to land on top of us all.”

  Tate stood, made his way around the desk, and hugged her. “Massive? Land on top of us? That does sound serious.” He pointed to the couch across the room. “Why don’t we sit, and you can tell me all about it?”

  What was it about her nephew that calmed her, made her feel as though the worst calamity could be rectified with the use of care, caution, and a logical approach? The Alexanders were lucky to have Tate, and though they might not recognize it yet, the Donovans were lucky, too. Camille sank onto the couch, clasped her nephew’s hand. “Oh, Tate, I do believe Rose has had a relapse and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She did not miss the caution in his voice, a caution that said he already knew there was a situation, and now he wanted to know what she knew about it. “It’s about Helena. Apparently, Luke spilled everything to Charlotte, Rogan, and Elizabeth.”

  “And?”

  Darn, but her nephew knew when she was holding back. “Luke also told them I was the one who initiated the investigation into Helena’s background.”

  Those silver eyes narrowed, filled with disappointment. “So I hear. I hope you didn’t tell Rose.”

  “No, I intended to but when I realized her fragile state, I changed my mind. I’m really worried about her, Tate. Something’s wrong. She’s talking about Luke and Helena’s wedding vow renewals and how she can’t wait and is so happy that he’s finally found someone.” She shook her head, drew in a deep breath, and pushed out the rest. “She’s making Helena a wedding handkerchief and acting like Jonathan’s sitting next to her. What are we going to do?”

  “We? Aren’t you the one who stirred up the trouble? Went behind everyone’s back and hired an investigator to dig up details you had no right knowing? Luke and Helena love each other, and now it’s a big mess. And I’m sorry, but you did them no favors.”

  “Me? I was trying to help Luke. I love that boy, and I’d do anything for him. I could not let a stranger come into town and hurt him.”

  “Really? Do you remember Rogan and Elizabeth? She was a stranger and she hurt him and look at them now. They’re so damn much in love you almost need sunglasses to watch them. And they’re having a baby and life is good.” He dragged a hand through his perfect hair, the brackets on either side of his mouth deepening. “And what about me and Charlotte? Was that not the biggest catastrophe there ever was? I can’t imagine life without her even though I had to go through hell to get to this point. But you know what? I’d do it all over again a thousand times to have a minute with her, and she feels the same way.”

  “You’re different; so is Rogan. This is Luke we’re talking about. Why would the woman lie to him? Why would she pretend to be someone she wasn’t and why would she fake her own marriage? None of it makes any sense, and it was my duty to find out and let him know.”

  “It was your duty to support him, no matter what. Eventually, the truth would have come out because Helena would have told him, and they would have dealt with it. But guess what? You stole that chance from them. I don’t know if it’s because you don’t believe in love anymore or don’t believe in other people’s happiness or have been so soured by your own marriage that you think nobody can truly love another person, but this is all on you. The only thing I want to know now is what you’re going to do to make it right.”

  Camille blustered her way through another five minutes of conversation that included indignation and denial and ended with a huff and a refusal to accept she was the one who’d destroyed their chances. “If their love was true and strong, they’d be able to survive. I saved him from years of heartache. One day he’ll thank me.” And with that she stomped from his office. She’d almost made it to the elevator when Frederick Strong stopped her.

  “Camille? Do you have a moment?”

  She clutched her handbag to her side, sucked in a tiny breath. After the first session at Victor’s Ballroom Dancing, she hadn’t seen him again. Perhaps her less-than-kind remarks about his trustworthiness had driven him to quit or choose another day—one in which she wasn’t present. “Frederick, how nice to see you.” Camille raised a brow, waited. “What can I do for you?”

  “I believe your intentions are honorable, but I also believe you’re looking through jaded glasses and can’t see the
truth, even when it’s staring back at you with crystal clarity.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He stared at her as if to say, You know exactly what you’ve done, and you know exactly what I mean. “Well? Is that all?”

  His lips pulled into a thin line and he stepped back—away from her. “Yes, that’s all. One day, I hope you’ll realize that not everything in life is a scheme or an attempt to harm another. Kindness and compassion still exist, as does love, but you have to open your eyes and your heart to see it. Goodbye, Camille. I wish you well.” And with that, Frederick Strong turned and left, leaving her with too much to think about, none of it good.

  Luke could pretend he didn’t care about Helena or he could pretend he did care. It all depended on his audience. If his mother was in the room, then he forced a smile and casual conversation as though nothing had changed between him and the woman he’d thought was his wife—the one who was carrying his baby. When Charlotte, Rogan, Elizabeth, or even that pain-in-the-butt brother-in-law of his was around, he put on the tough-guy routine: tossed out a scowl, shrugged, and if forced to speak, kept it cold and brief.

  Haven’t thought about the future.

  Still shell-shocked.

  Can’t say.

  Who the hell knows?

  And if they wouldn’t let up, he knew how to stop them. Worked every time. All he had to do was open his mouth and let it fly. How the hell would I know? Why don’t you ask her?

  Of course, he tried to keep his anger under control, but he failed every time. Rage crept into the words; at least that’s what Charlotte called it. But there was something else there, too, though nobody had noticed, or if they had, they weren’t saying. Luke recognized the damn thing for what it was and no matter how hard he tried to force it from his words and his damnable brain, it wouldn’t go away. Pain. Pure. White-hot. Scalding. He’d have to work on that. A few hundred more hours of practice and he might almost be able to hide it.

  Or not.

  How was it that a guy like himself who’d faked his way through a chunk of his life now struggled to make it through a half-hour dinner without the room closing in on him? Stupid question. He knew why. Knew her name, her scent, the way she tasted... Luke mumbled a curse. He didn’t want to pretend anymore. Hell no. He wanted to drag the lies out in the open and set them on the table next to the pork tenderloin and tell his mother there was no need to teach Helena how to make homemade applesauce, or pumpkin pie, or biscuits, or any of his other favorites because she wasn’t going to be doing anything for him—other than birthing the baby they’d created and learning to share it.

  Luke sucked in a breath, blew it out nice and slow. The baby hadn’t drawn its first breath in the real world and the tug of war for attention and time had already started. What if she tried to leave Reunion Gap and head back to Colorado or California? What if she didn’t care about being close to his family? Letting the kid spend time with his or her cousins? Play with Tate and Charlotte’s dog? The what-ifs kept him awake most nights and he refused to think about the fact that maybe he couldn’t sleep because he missed Helena’s soft breathing and warm body next to his. No, he would not consider that possibility.

  He’d been careful to avoid situations where he might be alone with her and risk a barrage of questions, or worse, the look she sometimes gave him that said she was hurting as much as he was. That he did not want to see, so he worked long hours at Rogan’s, making sure he was home for enough dinners to not rouse his mother’s suspicions, and once the meal was over, he was off to his brother’s again. Working hard to get the place decent before the baby comes. Yeah, it’s looking great. No, I don’t mind.

  Why would he mind burying himself in work when the alternative was misery and memories he wanted to forget? And when he crawled into bed at night, exhausted and sore, what did it matter? It wasn’t like there was anything waiting for him... Luke wasn’t fool enough to think they could continue like this, living as though they were still together, still planning a future filled with love, hope, another child or two, even a dog. That was all gone now and if he thought about it for more than a minute, he wanted to yell. And then he wanted to get good and drunk and forget he ever met Helena Montrey, but how would he explain that to his mother?

  Rose Donovan was the reason for the continued pretending. If not for her fragile emotional state, Luke would have spilled the truth about the woman he’d thought was his wife, and then his mother would have understood why there would be no marriage vow renewal. No future together, either. No anything. But Rose did have issues and the delicate balance between reality and fantasy sometimes wavered and made her world hard to navigate. That’s why his mother was planning the damn marriage vow renewal as though it were the event of the year.

  As though he and Helena were the perfect couple.

  “Dear, is everything all right?”

  Rose’s soft voice pulled him back from the torment that had become his life. Luke met her gaze, offered a puny smile. “Lost in another world, I guess.” One filled with fake wives and piles of lies.

  She tsk-tsked him. “I told Helena I thought you were working too much. You’re still newlyweds and your wife never sees you.” More tsk-tsking and a dab of her napkin against her lips. “You need to spend time together before the baby comes because once that little bundle arrives, your whole world will change.” Laughter tinkled from her, spread through the room. “You might not see each other for the next eighteen years.”

  Yeah, well, their whole world was about to change, and it had nothing to do with the baby. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Please do.” Rose nodded and glanced at the woman next to him, who’d grown very still. “Helena, please keep an eye on my son. He needs his rest and while he won’t listen to me anymore, I can tell he’ll do anything you ask.”

  Silence. And then “I’ll do my best.”

  Right. As if she could get him to do anything. Not anymore. But at least she knew how to play the game; at least he could count on her for that. He decided to add to her comment with his own brand of torture. “See, Mom, no need to worry. My wife’s got it all figured out.” There was no missing the sharp intake of breath next to him that said she did not appreciate his sarcasm. But when he darted a glance in her direction and caught her watching him with anger and disgust etched across those beautiful features, he knew he’d gone too far. He held her gaze, refused to look away. Those whiskey-colored eyes narrowed on him, the full lips thinned. How many times had he tasted those lips? How many times had she—

  “On second thought, Rose, I’m going to make sure Luke gets his rest tonight.” She laid a hand on his forearm, the gleam of her wedding ring sparkling under the light. “I’m going to keep him home tonight.” Those lips pulled into a slow smile. “With me.”

  Rose sighed, her soft words rolling over him. “I think that’s exactly what he needs. Husband and wife time.”

  Luke jerked his arm away, pushed back his chair and stood. Husband and wife time? Did she mean sex? His own mother telling him to have sex? He blocked out the thought. Hell no. “I’ve got work to do. Rogan and Elizabeth’s baby’s coming whether the house is ready or not.”

  “People have raised children in a house under construction. Look at your father and me. Do you know how many years we were working on this place?” Rose’s voice shifted, turned sorrowful. “I can’t even remember, but it never seemed to get done. Still, those were the days...”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not sure Rogan agrees with that.”

  His mother shrugged, set her napkin on the table. “Before you run off, I want to talk to you two about something. Helena said I had to ask you, so I’m asking. Mayor Olanski called this afternoon and said he’s still waiting on the marriage information from Colorado.” She shook her head, her blue eyes a mix of concern and confusion. “He said if you can’t find the information by Monday, then you should just head down to the courthouse and do the whole thing all over again.”

 
“What? What whole thing?” Maybe he could still wiggle out of this... But his mother’s next words said there would be no wiggling out of anything.

  “He said you should apply for a marriage license and get moving on it because there’s a seventy-two-hour waiting period.” Rose settled back in her chair, folded her hands in her lap and smiled at them. “That’s just enough time to get everything in order for Saturday.”

  “Saturday?” What had he missed? “What’s Saturday?”

  His mother’s laughter swirled through the room: light, happy, excited. “Saturday’s the day you and Helena will stand before your family and pledge your love to one another.” She paused, let out a long, satisfied sigh. “Forever and ever.”

  Chapter 17

  Luke would rather haul shingles to the roof than have a face-to-face conversation with Helena—in his old bedroom—but the talk needed to happen and if he had to do it five feet from the bed where they used to make love, damn it, he’d do it. “So...” He blew out a sigh, dragged both hands through his hair, and paced the room. It was easier to keep moving so he didn’t have to look her in the eye. “Looks like we’re going to have to talk about this.” When she didn’t respond, he glanced at her, noted the rigid back, the pinched lips, the clenched hands. Ticked and not happy, no doubt about it. “Well?”

  She turned to face him, but instead of answering, she just stared.

  Now she didn’t want to talk? She’d been after him since the fallout to talk and deal with what had happened. Of course, he’d refused, but then he would have refused life-saving medicine if she were the one administering it. But this talk was different; it was about his mother and damage control. “Helena.” Her name burned his throat, stung his lips. “My mother isn’t going to give this up.”