“Consider it prepping for an assignment,” he said.
“I’m an analyst—I don’t go out on assignment.”
“Yet you’ve taken this one. And maybe we need to get the hurdle of the first time out of the way.”
Thursday flew by. Friday afternoon Tray called Lianne at her office. She had seen him in passing at work. She half expected him to offer lunch or dinner, but according to Emily when Lianne asked about his schedule, Tray was inundated with meetings and small crises that required his attention.
When he called Friday, Lianne picked up, surprised to hear from him if he was that busy.
“I’ll pick you up around six. Do you want to eat around in town or wait until we’re on the road?” he asked.
“You still want to go?” They had decided to try the cottage again.
“Oh, yes, I most definitely want to go away with you,” he said very deliberately.
She rubbed her forehead, trying to think. “Fine. I’ll be ready at six. And I’d like to eat at Katie’s Steak House. It’s about half way between here and Baden.”
“Sounds like good food. See you then.” He hung up without another word.
By the time six o’clock arrived, Lianne had changed clothes twice and made a mess of her bedroom choosing and discarding clothes to take to the cottage. Each member of the family had a dresser of assorted beach clothes to save packing and unpacking for short stays. But none of those outfits were quite what she wanted to wear around Tray. She refused to examine why this was important to her, but it was.
She left the apartment a few moments before six and arrived at the lobby door just as Tray pulled up. Before he could park, she waved and hurried to the car. He stowed her suitcase in the trunk and held the passenger door for her.
“With so many children in your family, I guess I’m not surprised you are always punctual,” he said as she settled in.
“That’s right. My folks made a rule. If you weren’t in the bathroom at your assigned time, it became open for whoever wanted it. My sisters loved to primp, so we learned early on not to be late.”
“Uncle Hal used to say it was rude to keep people waiting,” Tray said as he drove back into the street, merging with traffic.
“It is. How are you coping with his being gone?”
“It’s not as hard here. There’s lots going on so I’m not thinking about it all the time. When in his home in Richmond, I expected him to appear every moment. It’ll get easier—at least that’s what people say.”
“Easier, but the longing to see him, the wish for just one afternoon again never quite fades,” she said sadly.
“Speaking from experience?” he asked.
Lianne nodded. “A dear friend died when we were in college. I still miss her.”
Tray didn’t speak again until Lianne gave directions for the steak house. Dinner didn’t go as quickly as she had hoped since it was Friday night and the restaurant was crowded. By the time they finished their meal and were back on the road, it was after ten. They reached the cottage after eleven.
The wind blew from the ocean and the town of Baden Harbor was closed up. Few lights beyond streetlights illuminated the night. When they turned onto the road where the cottage sat, no lights showed at all.
“Not a lot of people live out here it seems,” he said.
“Most of these are summer homes. Which makes it ideal the rest of the year to get away. I love it when the beach is deserted and I can have it all to myself.”
Once inside, Lianne hurried to turn on the heater. “Fortunately my great-grandparents had hoped once to live year-round here so equipped the house for all weather. It’ll warm up soon.” She stood in the living room and looked around, wondering what Tray saw—years of loving visits from boisterous children and indulgent adults? Or a casual home that showed its eclectic background and age?
“Shall I take the same bedroom as before?” he asked.
She nodded, breathing a soft sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t going to pursue the matter he spoke of before. Maybe his idea of a honeymoon was different from hers.
“I left the water heater on when we left before, so if you want a shower, the water would be hot,” she said, feeling a bit bewildered. This wasn’t quite turning out like she thought.
“I’d prefer to take one in the morning, after our run.”
“Want hot chocolate or something before bed?” she asked.
“If you’re making it, I’ll have some. After I take our bags up to the rooms.”
By the time the beverage was ready, the house had warmed enough Lianne could take off her jacket. Tray had returned after depositing the bags and lounged against the counter watching as she prepared the hot chocolate.
“I didn’t see your laptop,” she said, adding cocoa to the warming milk.
“Didn’t bring it. But you reminded me,” he said, taking his phone from his pocket. He turned it off and laid it on the counter. “No interruptions this time.”
Lianne was startled. He was never incommunicado for work.
“What if someone needs you?”
“I’ll be back in the office Monday morning. It can wait.”
From the startled look on Lianne’s face, Tray knew he’d surprised her. But he was serious about getting to know the woman he’d married.
He wouldn’t tell her he’d reviewed her personnel file before coming this weekend. He figured he should know some of the basics, if only from the interview before he hired her. She was a graduate of Georgetown University. She had worked as an analyst for two years for the Department of State and much preferred to work without close supervision. She’d received glowing reviews from her supervisor at State and never given any trouble at Protection, Inc. Her insights were legendary. They worked well together, but this was different.
He didn’t know what colors she liked, how she felt about discipline in children, or even names she’d want for their baby. Was she serious about staying home the first year, or would being with an infant all the time soon have her searching for adult companionship?
When Lianne handed him the mug of hot chocolate, he knew there were many more aspects he wondered about—how did she like to be kissed. How soft was her skin? Did she sleep snuggled up against a man or want her own space?
This weekend should answer a lot of questions.
Tray slept well and woke before dawn. He lay in bed a few moments considering all the things he would have done this weekend if he hadn’t insisted on accompanying Lianne. Rising, he dressed in running clothes and went to see if she was awake.
Hearing movement in her room, he knocked. A moment later the door opened. She wore sweats and had her hair tied back into a ponytail.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I just need to put on my shoes. Aren’t you going to be cold?”
He wore only shorts, shoes and a warm-up shirt. It would be cold starting out, but once he reached his stride, he’d be glad for fewer clothes. “I’ll be fine.”
They did stretching exercises together. Tray was intrigued by the lithe body of his wife. He’d never noticed before. Or ever gone running with a woman. In the past, his social life was surface only. He was venturing into new territory.
The sun was just peeking above the horizon. The water was still more gray than blue. When they stepped outside, the breeze was cold. It would not reach summer temperatures, but he hoped the sun would warm the day somewhat.
“Okay, I usually head north—there’re fewer houses,” she said. “It doesn’t really matter, the beach is deserted at this time of morning.”
“And you like the loneliness of it,” he guessed.
She shrugged. “I like to be by myself.”
“Even now?”
“No, let’s go.”
They started out in tandem, he matching his pace to hers. Soon Lianne seemed to reach her stride. He could have pushed for more, but her pace was fast enough. They ran side by side, on the wet, packed sand. The ocean was on their right, sand d
unes and houses on the left. Alone on the long expanse of seashore, they had the perfect place to run.
Tray relished the course. He had been so caught up with work the last few days that he’d neglected his daily runs and missed them. A couple of days of this and he’d be back in top shape and raring to go back to work on Monday.
“This is two miles,” Lianne said, slowing a bit and making a wide loop. “I usually run about four at a time.”
“Works for me.”
The time back seemed suspended. He noted the empty houses; the one house that had smoke coming from a chimney. Someone else up for the weekend. He wondered what Lianne would do in an emergency with so many empty places around.
He hadn’t worried about anyone before. Now—she was his wife. The only relative he had in the world. Would they really make a baby together, have a small son or daughter who would love the beach? To whom he could talk of his uncle Hal and growing up in Richmond?
The baby would have plenty of cousins on their mother’s side. He would encourage family ties—even though he’d probably never be included in many activities. Lianne would undoubtedly invite him, but everyone would know theirs wasn’t a real marriage. Politeness wouldn’t be the same as belonging. Still, his child would be surrounded by love—both his and Lianne’s.
He’d make sure of it this time.
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE time they returned to the cottage, Lianne was getting winded and her hair was damp. Tray knew he could have continued another mile, but stopped when she did. He liked running by the sea instead of in the park where he normally went. Maybe they could get away for more weekends and make this a part of their routine.
Wait a minute, he silently admonished himself. Don’t get carried away with this. She was a wife only because he wasn’t risking losing another child like he’d already done. They had nothing in common he knew about except Protection, Inc. Getting married didn’t mean being married—in the traditional sense.
“Toss you for the shower first,” she said, breathing hard.
“Does the water go cold after one shower?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? With all the people in my family, no one would ever get to bathe if one shower used up all the hot. Granddad put in a huge heater. It’s enough for several showers in a row before the water even starts to cool down.”
Too bad, Tray thought. He could have suggested they bathed together to save water.
“You go first. I’ll do some more exercises out here and come in when you’re finished,” he said.
“Okay. I’ll yell out the window when I’m done.”
He watched her head into the house and shook his head. He was married to a woman so far from the pampered society darlings he’d dated that it was mind-boggling. He tried to picture any of the women he used to date yelling out a window.
An image of his uncle rose. Tray knew with certainty Hal would have liked Lianne.
Turning to face the sea, he dropped to do a series of pushups and then sit-ups. Might as well take the time to catch up on his physical exercises. It kept his mind off the tantalizing image of sharing a shower with Lianne.
When Tray came downstairs after his own shower, Lianne was curled up on the sofa leafing through a magazine. She looked up at him. “Want to go out for breakfast? Or I can make some pancakes.”
“I thought the idea was to remain hidden.”
“Not hidden, just not out there, you know?”
He shook his head.
“We’ll go to the pancake house in Waterford. It’s not a far drive and I hardly ever go there so the chances of my mother’s best friend spotting us are hugely remote.”
“Where does your mother’s best friend hang out?” Tray asked. How far would Lianne go to keep their relationship quiet?
“Not anywhere near here, but you know what I mean. Anyone who knows her could ask who is the man her daughter is seeing. That would start speculation I don’t need. Do you like pancakes?”
“Sure, who doesn’t? We can stop at a grocery store later and get food for the rest of the weekend.”
“You can make breakfast tomorrow and I’ll do dinner tonight,” she said, not looking at him.
Lianne wasn’t sure how he’d take being treated like her brothers. She decided that was the best way to act. It was share and share alike in her family. She’d decided on the strategy to keep her sanity. If they could continue their relationship as they had done at work, she’d be able to handle things. If not, she was worried she’d make a blithering idiot of herself before the weekend was over.
“As long as you like omelets,” he said.
“Who doesn’t?” she parroted.
After breakfast, they walked around Waterford. It was a typical seaside resort—catering to tourists in the summer months, quiet and half empty in October.
The sun had warmed the day and being sheltered from the sea breeze by the buildings on Main Street kept the temperatures mild. They walked along gazing into shop windows, stopping inside a place or two. Lianne loved browsing driftwood sculptures. As far as she could tell, Tray had no special interests. But the way he kept watch, his eyes constantly assessing each place, she knew he was too busy figuring out ways he’d protect someone in this environment than in enjoying the sightseeing.
Crossing the empty street to the next block, Lianne saw a small boy standing by the shop door, looking scared.
“Think he’s lost?” she asked Tray.
“Maybe.” He stooped down to be on level with the little boy. “Where’s your mom?” he asked gently.
The child gave a kind of hiccup and looked about to cry. “She’s lost.”
“Oh, dear,” Lianne said.
Tray was hard-pressed to keep from smiling. It was this little tyke who was lost. “Maybe we can find your mother. Where did you see her last?”
“I dunno,” he said. He stepped closer to Tray, looking at him trustingly.
“What’s her name?” he asked, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on the child’s shoulder.
“Mommy.”
“I should have guessed. Shall we try this store first?” he asked.
The little boy looked at the door and wrinkled his nose. “It smells in there.”
“A clue,” Tray said, straightening to his full height. “Maybe he was inside and didn’t like the smell.” The store in question was a candle shop, with many different fragrances all competing on a whiff of air.
He felt a tug on his trouser pants. Looking down he smiled when he saw the earnest look on the boy’s face.
“If you carried me, I could see better,” he said.
Tray exchanged amused glances with Lianne, then hoisted the boy up. They entered the shop. It was much larger inside than it had appeared on the sidewalk. There were many aisles, with shelves so tall people were concealed.
A woman near a register by the door glanced at them as they entered. Probably thought they were a family on an outing, Tray thought. If everything went well, in another year or two, that’s exactly what they could be.
“We have a missing boy, here,” Tray said to the clerk. “We are looking for his mother. Anyone report a missing child?”
“Oh, goodness, no. Where did you find him?”
“Right outside. He says this place smells, so we thought he might have come from here.”
Just then a loud shriek sounded, followed by “Justin!” being called very loudly.
The little boy broke into a smile. “That’s Mommy.”
Two seconds later a frantic woman ran toward the front of the store, checking her speed when she saw her son. “Oh, thank God,” she said, rushing over. “You scared me to death.”
“He was outside,” Tray said, transferring the child to the frantic mother’s arms. “Lucky he didn’t wander farther away.”
“I can’t believe he left. I know he’s tired of shopping. It’s okay, honeybun. Mommy is finished for the day. Let’s go get some ice cream.” She looked at Tray and Lianne. “Thank
you for getting him. I don’t want to even imagine if he had wandered down the street.”
“Glad we were handy,” Tray said.
Lianne smiled at the mother and at little Justin. “You have a beautiful boy,” she said.
The mother smiled proudly and nodded. “Thanks again.”
Tray held the door for Lianne and they returned to the sidewalk.
“We can return to the cottage, if you like,” she said when they stepped out.
“We haven’t seen every place on the other side of the street,” he said, glancing around.
“I knew it. You’re bored.” The quiet lifestyle of this sleepy shore town wouldn’t appeal to a man like Tray. He hobnobbed with business titans and heads of state.
He threw his arm around her shoulder and moved her closer to the wall to let another couple pass by. “I’m not at all bored. I’m not interested in driftwood plant holders, or candles, but I am interested in the various ways people find to create products out of wax or what is essentially flotsam. This is a different kind of economy than I normally deal with, so it’s fascinating people can actually make a living out of driftwood.”
“Innovative, don’t you think?” Lianne hoped she didn’t give herself away. She could scarcely think, only feel the warmth from his arm across her shoulder, and the blossom of hope in her heart for a baby. Tray would make such a great father.
He nodded, eyeing a particularly fanciful planter in the window. “Where would someone put that?”
She tilted her head while looking at it, trying to breathe normally. “I have no idea. On the porch of a beach cottage, I guess. I wouldn’t take it home with me.”
He took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “You relieve my mind about your taste. Come on and let’s find a sidewalk café by the water where we can get some coffee.”
“We had coffee less than an hour ago.” She turned and fell into step with him. It felt special to be holding hands.
“I drink coffee all morning long, don’t you?”
“Only days when I’m stressed.”
“So today isn’t one of them. Good. I still want coffee,” he said.
The Pregnancy Promise Page 9