“Actually, I see a fellow across the way with a camera.” A hand in the small of her back urged her toward the door. “Why don’t we take this inside?”
Her skin itched at the idea of being spied on, so she allowed him to direct her indoors.
She settled on the sofa and placed the large box next to her. “What did you do, Ray?”
“What makes you think it’s from me?” He went to the fire and tossed on a log, then took up a spot at the mantel.
“Because nobody knows I’m here.”
“Open it.”
Eying him suspiciously, she worked off the bright red bow. Was it coincidence that the bow was her favorite color or had Ray asked for red? Coincidence, surely? She doubted Ray knew her favorite color.
She lifted off the lid and dug through mounds of tissue. Her heart began an erratic tattoo as she recognized the famous name blazoned on the inside of the box. Maybe he did know, because the paper parted to reveal a red leather coat trimmed in black fur. Oh, my.
“Oh, my...” Mamó echoed Lauren’s thoughts. “What a beautiful coat.”
Lauren held the garment up. The jacket was long enough to hit her just above the knee. A black asymmetrical zipper slashed across the front and the softest of faux fur lined the inside from shoulder to hem, including a shawl collar that converted into a hood.
“Gorgeous...” she breathed.
“Try it on,” Mamó urged.
Lauren didn’t need the encouragement. She had already unzipped the jacket and shrugged out of Ray’s coat. She slid her arms in and sighed as softness and warmth surrounded her. The smell of rich leather teased her nostrils. Oh, she coveted it.
She turned to Ray, who smirked with quiet satisfaction.
“Thank you,” she said as she shrugged out of the lovely coat. “But I can’t accept it.”
“Oh, but—” Mamó covered her mouth, turned around, and hurried toward the kitchen.
Ellie came through the connecting door to her unit and Mamó detoured to grab her arm and drag her along to the back of the house.
Lauren barely noticed. All her attention was focused on Ray’s stormy expression.
“You need a warmer jacket. Your time on the stoop should have proved that.”
“I’ll manage.”
For some reason her refusal seemed to hurt him. But accepting such an expensive gift implied an intimacy she was trying to avoid. She’d told him she didn’t need a new coat, and yet true to his controlling nature he’d gone against her wishes and bought one anyway.
“It’s too much.”
“I can afford it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“You just said it was.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You’re only here because of me. It’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t suffer for doing me a favor.”
Silently she applauded him for the brilliant argument, but she saw right through him and chided him with a simple, “Ray...”
“As far as I’m concerned it’s yours,” he said dismissively. “If you don’t want it, just borrow it while you’re here and I’ll have Mamó give it to the Salvation Army when we leave. Whatever you decide, I’m leaving for the hardware store in ten minutes.”
He stormed off, taking the stairs two at a time.
Dang the man. By stating his intention to give the coat away to charity he’d taken the power of her refusal away from her. She stroked the silky black faux fur. Would it hurt to wear it during her visit?
Yes. She needed to stand by her principles—to show him she couldn’t be bullied or bought. Regretfully, she folded the jacket back into the box. Sometimes being right really, really sucked.
CHAPTER SIX
OF COURSE THEY walked to Chester’s. The neighborhood store turned out to be only three blocks away. It was easier to go by foot than to shovel the drifts away from the garage. Ray offered to call a cab, but Lauren refused. Not for three blocks.
She slid into her fleece-lined raincoat, borrowed Ellie’s snow boots, and met Ray at the gate.
He scowled at her coat but refrained from saying anything. Instead he took her arm. “Be careful. The snow has been shoveled, but it can be slick.”
At first they strolled in silence, but several people were out and Ray got hailed a number of times. He tried to keep them moving, which proved difficult when it was someone on the same side of the street.
Shivering as a light snow began to fall, Lauren admired his skillful ability to greet and go. Across the way she noticed the photographer Ray had spotted earlier. The man kept pace with them, yet seemed content to keep his distance.
All in all, by the time they reached the hardware store, she wished she hadn’t been quite so quick to set Ray’s gift aside.
“Here we are.” He held the door for her.
Grateful for the promise of warmth, she stepped inside. She stamped the snow from her boots and faced Ray. Only to find he’d all but disappeared. A knit cap covered his hair, his neck scarf had been pulled up to cover the bottom half of his face, and his shoulders were slumped forward. He’d gone from being a confident, dynamic man who dominated any room he entered to a man most people would overlook. Obviously that was the point.
Considering their trip here, she couldn’t blame him. On this Tuesday morning Chester’s hopped with clientele.
“Hello, I’m Lauren.” She offered Ray her gloved hand. “Who are you?”
“Ha-ha.” He took her hand and gave her a basket to carry before leading her deeper into the store. “You’re a real comedian.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. It’s a very effective disguise. Do you have to use it often?”
“No.” He turned down an aisle and stopped in front of an assortment of lubricating oils. He handed her a can and took off again. “I’m not in front of the cameras anymore, so I’m not as recognizable as celebrities on TV or in movies. Then there’s the fact most people are too intimidated to approach me. But this is my old neighborhood, so all bets are off.”
“Everyone seems happy for your success. And you’re very gracious with them. Yet you’re also careful to keep them at a distance.” She followed him into the lighting aisle. “Kyla said it’s been years since you’ve visited Mamó at home.”
“Do you have a point?” His gaze roamed the shelves, seeking three-way bulbs.
“I’m just wondering what you’re running from?”
He went totally still.
Giving him time, she reached past him and selected energy-saving three-way bulbs. She placed them in the basket and waited for him to come back to her. His reaction confirmed her suspicion.
Ray hadn’t willingly abandoned his neighborhood. Something had sent him running.
Finally he shrugged. “We all have things in our past we’d rather forget.”
“True.” She hooked her arm through his. “But some stick with us more than others.”
“Will you wear the coat?”
She rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to manipulate his own confession. Too bad she had him beat. “Oh, yeah. I already made that decision on the walk over here. I may be stubborn. I’m not stupid.”
“Right.” He grinned and reclaimed the basket. He held his other hand out to her. “Come on. Time to go play handyman.”
“No touching,” she said, reminding herself as well as him, and walked around him to the cashier.
* * *
Back at the house, Lauren gratefully released her end of the heavy box containing the mahogany console. They’d blown through the fix-it items on Mamó’s to-do list and were about to put together the new console table.
Lauren read the directions while he went straight to sorting the nails and screws. When she caught herself staring at his bent head, she decided to press him a little more on his pa
st.
She crouched down next to him. “So, about those things in the past you prefer to forget...sometimes it helps to share.”
“I appreciate the offer.” He stroked his thumb over the dent in her chin. “It’s better left buried.”
“I disagree.” She blew out a breath. “I don’t know if Garrett told you this, but Tori and I had a friend in high school who committed suicide.”
“He mentioned it.” His shuttered gaze met hers before he focused on lining up the planks by size.
She stood and squared her shoulders. This was never easy to talk about.
“Well, the school provided counseling for those that wanted it, and because we were particularly close to him my parents continued it for an extra month. There was guilt and anger to deal with, as well as loss and sorrow. Mostly for Tori. I went more to support her. By talking about our experience we were able to gain perspective and work our way through the stages of grief in a healthy manner.”
He slowly rose to his feet to stare down into her eyes. “And yet Tori’s memories of that time almost cost her her relationship with Garrett.”
“Talking about it doesn’t take away the importance of an event. But it can minimize its power over you. Once you’ve shared with someone, the worst that can happen is over. Someone else knows. The fear of discovery is past, making it easier to deal with what follows.”
“Really? Because having the whole neighborhood witness my humiliation, pain and disappointment didn’t make it easier to bear. I call liar on that.”
She flinched—more at what he had revealed than at the bite in his words.
“I once let a man control me to the point I almost ditched my family for him.” Saying it out loud sent a cold wave down her spine. Her throat clenched. It was her biggest shame. And she had no idea why she’d just told him. Who knew being pregnant led to insanity? Worse, she couldn’t seem to stop. “It was a form of abuse that I didn’t even see happening.”
“Oh, Lauren.” He pulled her into his arms. The screwdriver in his hand bumped against her butt. He set it aside, then enfolded her in a tender embrace. “I just can’t see it. You’re so in control, so strong.”
“In a way, that just made it worse. It was subtle and insidious and completely undermined who I was. Tori saved me.”
And for a while Lauren had hated her for it.
“When I finally made the break from Brad I couldn’t talk to Mom or Tori. I was too ashamed. That fear of discovery... But I remembered the counseling from high school and decided to see if my college provided counselors and I was able to talk to someone.”
She’d learned only she had the ability to give her power away.
His hand stroked softly through her hair. Allowing him to hold her like this broke the rules, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Insanity aside, she’d started this in order to help him deal with whatever it was that had driven him away from Queens.
She eased away. “I can promise you nothing is as bad as you build it up to be in your own head.”
He cupped the back of her neck, his intent gaze scrutinizing her carefully. “You’re such a contradiction. You find it hard to accept a gift but now you’ve bared your soul for me.”
A shrug was all she had to give him. “Different cost values.”
He rocked his forehead over hers. “I don’t know what to say.”
“The point is your secrets are safe with me. You can say anything.” She pressed her lips to his cheek before stepping back again. “And I have agreed to wear the jacket, so technically you owe me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
* * *
“A little more your way,” Ray directed, eyeing the entryway to gauge its center point. “Okay, set it down.”
Lauren stepped back to view the finished results as Ray added baskets to the bottom shelf of the console. Thirty inches high and five feet long, it had three deep drawers across the front, with three rattan baskets going in the open slots below the drawers.
“It really is a lovely piece.” She held her hand up for a high-five. “Well done, Donovan.”
He slapped her palm. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Randall.”
“Seriously,” she agreed, “that was one heavy beast.”
He yanked on the end of her ponytail. “We make a good team.”
“Hmm...”
She hummed the noncommittal response just to be contrary. Surprisingly, they had worked well together, making fairly quick work of the assembly. Still, after getting all touchy-feely with him it was best not to give him too much encouragement. The man didn’t know the meaning of boundaries. Give him an inch and he’d take a mile.
Best not to encourage herself either.
More than once she’d caught herself staring at his hands. Remembering how they felt on her skin. Long-fingered, strong, and competent, his broad-palmed hands were sensual tools of torment, capable of sending her senses reeling.
Oh, yeah, he knew how to use his hands.
“Mamó will be thrilled.” She forced her attention back to the moment.
“I think so.” He glanced at his watch. “They should be back soon.”
Ellie had whisked Mamó off to the hair salon after lunch. Her big birthday bash at the community center started at six and the women were off beautifying themselves for the event.
“Hair and nails for both of them?” She shook her head while stifling a yawn. Every time she slowed down sleep tugged at her eyelids. Must be jet lag. “It’ll probably be another hour at least.” She bent and stuffed plastic bags into a large cardboard box. “Why don’t you grab us a couple of sodas and I’ll finish cleaning up here?”
“I have a better idea.” He took the box from her. “Why don’t you sit down while I take care of this and get the sodas? It’s the least I can do after all your help.”
“I won’t say no.”
He headed outside with the box.
She checked her phone for messages, smiled at the text from her assistant confirming all was set for the party tonight.
Curling into the corner of the sofa, she clicked on the TV. A reality show came on in which brides sought the perfect dress. A secret fan, she rested her head on a closed fist and watched as the bride and her mother clashed over a peek-a-boo corset dress.
She fought off a yawn. Earlier she’d stepped outside to make a few arrangements for tonight’s big bash. Events were Lauren’s “thing.” She felt bad, sitting back and doing nothing for Mamó’s party, so she’d reached out to a couple of local connections she’d met at national conferences and arranged for a little something extra.
Which reminded her—she needed to fill Ray in on her plan. Her eyes closed. She struggled to push them open. Hopefully Ray wouldn’t object to her interference. It was all meant in good fun...
* * *
After disposing of the box and grabbing two cans of soda from the refrigerator, Ray joined Lauren on the sofa. The first thing he noticed was that Lauren was sound asleep. Jet lag, no doubt. Compelled by something bigger than his promises, he gave in to the urge to touch. He swept a silky blond tendril behind her ear, traced the oval curve of her jaw, stroked his thumb over the plump bow of her lips.
So strong, yet so delicate. His gut churned at the thought of her under another man’s thumb. Never would he have suspected her of subjugating her will to someone else. Not with the grief she gave him.
An abusive experience sure explained her fierce need for independence.
His fingers curled into a fist as he fought the desire to smash something—preferably the abusive jerk’s face. Too bad he was beyond Ray’s reach. Slowly he unfurled each finger, because Lauren deserved tenderness and understanding. He wouldn’t be responsible for bringing her any more pain.
Dropping his hand to her thigh, he t
urned his attention to the TV. His brows plummeted into a scowl. What kind of hot mess had she been watching? A woman in a robe was extolling the virtues of some man while a salesclerk waded through a forest of white gowns. Some sort of bride show.
Just kill him now.
He picked up the remote, ready to click it away. The picture changed to a young, dark-haired woman with brown eyes in a round face. His finger froze on the remote. For a moment he saw Camilla standing there. In a blink the resemblance disappeared.
He scrubbed at the back of his neck. He obviously had the past on his mind.
Hard not to when he was smack in the middle of the borough where it had all gone down. All he wanted was to put the past behind him. Yet everywhere he looked he stumbled across reminders of his darkest moment. And Lauren’s probing didn’t help.
Maybe he should talk to her. No. He appreciated her sharing her past with him, but he couldn’t reciprocate. Exposing his shame would be like opening a vein. Better to leave it buried.
Aiming the remote again, he changed the channel, finding a hockey game to watch. He settled into the cushions, one hand on Lauren’s thigh, the other wrapped around a cold soda. Now, this was more like it. An hour alone to enjoy a cold drink, a good game, and his girl. This was the way to relax.
* * *
“Here we are, ladies.” Ray climbed out of the taxi and held the door for Mamó and Lauren. He escorted them inside, where the three of them checked their coats. Ellie and Kyla had gone on ahead of them. “May I say it’s my pleasure to be accompanying the two most beautiful women at the party?”
“Thank you.” Pleased with his compliment, Mamó twittered while patting her white-gray crown of curls. She glowed in a jacket dress of bright purple. A dusting of soft rose highlighted the natural color in her creamy cheeks. She looked lovely, and clearly ready to party.
He wrapped her in a gentle hug. “Make sure you behave yourself.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She patted his cheek, giving him a wicked smile. “I plan to party hearty tonight.”
“Mamó!”
A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal Page 8