Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she did. He had let her down in a big way. They had both been weak that night. He should’ve been strong for both of them and stopped things.
That night came pushing back with a sensual punch that had his primal instincts warring with what he knew was right—what he knew he needed to do... Or not do.
Damn it all to hell.
He took a deep breath. Then he opened the cabinet, took down a glass and poured himself some water from the pitcher. He guzzled it down, the coldness of it giving him brain freeze.
There.
That was better.
He set the glass on the counter and walked back to her office.
She was sitting at her desk with her head in her hands and he hated himself for being the cause of her pain. “I know this is a lot to spring on you all at once. Why don’t you take a few days to think about it—”
“I don’t need time to think about it, Zane. I appreciate the sentiment of what you’re trying to do. But I’m not going to marry you. It’s not personal, but—”
“Of course it’s personal. Everything about this is personal.”
“Okay, so it is personal. What I meant was it’s not you. I am not rejecting you.”
“You just won’t marry me. I see. No, I don’t see. That makes absolutely no sense at all.”
She swiveled in her chair to face him. “Yeah, that sort of has the same tones of your telling me our night together was the best sex you’d ever had, but it could never happen again.” She clamped her mouth shut for a moment. “But that’s beside the point. When I get married, it’s going to be for love—mutual love—and it’s going to last forever. It’s not going to be a forced situation—like one of those fake Hollywood back-lot sets, where it’s all show on the side, but really there’s no heart or substance to it.”
“I understand that you don’t love me, but I can live with that, Lucy.”
She laughed. She actually laughed out loud and he had no idea what the hell was so funny.
“You don’t understand anything at all, Zane. At least not when it comes to you and me.”
Now she was just talking in riddles. And even though this conversation was one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees different than any of the other conversations he’d had about marriage with anyone else, it did have one thing in common—it always seemed to come down to women speaking a different language, which was something he was obviously supposed to understand, but he didn’t.
Another way that it was different was that this was the point when he usually exited. When it got too complicated or too heated or too heavy, he simply called it quits. It didn’t take a genius to see the similarities between him and his old man, but now there was a baby in the mix and he wasn’t going to take the easy way out like Nathaniel had.
“Obviously, I don’t understand,” he said, taking care to keep his voice calm and steady. “I asked you to marry me—you said no. I asked you to think about it—you said no.”
“That’s right.” She looked so small sitting in her chair. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and her hair hung loose around her shoulders. He could see shades of the girl he’d grown up with, but he couldn’t sense in her the friend that she’d become. Right now she seemed like a stranger. And it was killing him.
“What I don’t understand,” he said, “is how you can just close your mind to the possibility. Lucy, we are good together, we’ve known each other forever. We would make such good partners. Most people get married because they think they’re in love, when actually they’re just hot for each other. That never lasts, and when it fades, some couples realize they don’t even like each other very much. You and I, we like each other. We don’t have to mess this up by complicating it with love and all that other emotional stuff. So think about it, okay? Would you do that for me?”
The look on her face was heartbreaking and for a few moments he thought he’d actually gotten through to her.
“Is that what you think of love? Is that all it is to you—just some hot-and-heavy sex, and when the sex isn’t good anymore, it’s all over?”
This was one of those trick questions. He knew it.
“I stand by what I said, Lucy. I believe the best foundation for marriage is friendship.”
“So do I, Zane. But I also believe in love. You have obviously never been in love, have you?”
Okay. This was probably a good time to wind things down. It was late. They were probably both tired. She was getting into territory that he didn’t want to touch.
“So let’s back up here for a minute,” she said. “You want us to get married. Let’s say we did. Let’s say you get the Ocala job. Of course you should take it. That means you’ll be in Florida. My business that I’ve worked so hard for is here. Someone’s going to lose and I have a sneaking suspicion you will expect me to pack up and go with you. So that we can live out our pretend marriage and be a pretend traditional family. Is that how your version of the story goes, Zane?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Lucy, we should probably call it a night. My offer still stands. But let’s discuss it when we’re fresh. I probably shouldn’t have come over here tonight. I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry. That I plan on taking responsibility—for you and for our baby.”
She stood up suddenly and slammed both of her palms on her desk. Her eyes glistened with tears. “You just don’t get it, do you, Zane? Can’t you see? All this baby and I are to you is a responsibility. I can’t marry you simply to appease your sense of guilt.”
Now she was full-on crying. He wanted to go to her, but he was frozen, rooted to the place he was standing.
“This isn’t the way things were supposed to turn out.” She was sobbing. “You really can’t see it? You really have no idea?”
“Lucy?”
“Well, since we’re laying it all out on the table, you might as well know. For as far back as I can remember I have dreamed of marrying you. Yes, Zane, I have dreamed of being your wife and having your babies. But not like this. I am in love with you. I always have been and unfortunately I probably always will be. I thought going away, leaving Celebration, expanding my horizons and all that crap would help me get over you. That maybe I’d meet someone who would make me forget about you, but I didn’t. I didn’t quit loving you because that’s the way I’m wired. And it really sucks that you don’t love me. I get that, you can’t just turn it on like a light switch. But what you need to understand is that’s why I won’t marry you. Because no matter how good of friends we are, a one-sided marriage, a marriage where I’m in love with you, but you’re only there out of obligation, will never work.
“That’s why I won’t marry you, Zane.”
Chapter Four
The next morning, Lucy opened her eyes and the magnitude of what had happened last night came rushing back like a punch to the gut. She bolted upright in bed and pressed her hands to her face.
Oh, my God, what did I do?
She had told Zane that she’d been in love with him her entire life. That was what she’d done.
Sure, Zane had provoked it by asking her to marry him, but—Gaaah!
She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could obliterate the nightmare. Because that was what it was—the stuff that nightmares were made of. Only, this was real. It hadn’t happened in a bad dream. It had played out in living color between her and the only man she had ever loved.
She ran her fingers through her mussed hair, tugging a little too hard. She couldn’t blame her slipped filter on the pregnancy hormones because she knew it wasn’t the truth. She wasn’t going to use this pregnancy as a crutch, an excuse for saying and doing things she shouldn’t have done.
Instead, she tried to convince herself it was no big deal, that given the present circumstances, it was something he needed to know. Didn’t he need to know
she loved him? But it didn’t make her feel any better. Because no, he didn’t need to know that.
Major TMI.
It wouldn’t change anything. Well, the only thing it might do was make life more difficult. It was as if something had possessed her and ripped the confession right out of her heart.
No, enough blaming everything else. She had betrayed herself by not having better self-control.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh. God. No.
Again, she covered her face with her hands, pressing her fingers into her eyes. How could she ever face Zane again?
She wasn’t sure which was worse—having to face him, or worrying her confession might have sent him packing. She wouldn’t be one bit surprised if last night’s episode of True Confessions: Lucy Spills the Goods had inspired him to hightail it back to the airport and hop on the next flight to Ocala.
But she knew him better than that. Of course that wouldn’t be the case. He wouldn’t run. Besides, they hadn’t offered him the job yet. Still, they would soon enough, and if he needed one more good excuse to add to all the reasons he wanted to leave Celebration, surely her blurting the L word would be all the reason he’d need.
She took a deep breath and let her hands fall from her face. She tried to blink away the blurriness caused from pressing so hard. Once she could see straight again, she realized the world was still turning; the sun had risen and was shining in through the spaces between the white plantation shutters, casting light and shadows, just like it did every sunny morning.
Obviously, life would go on despite her deep mortification. She resisted the urge to lie back in her bed and pull the pink-and-white duvet over her head. There was no time to wallow. She had a Picnic in the Park meeting and she was going to be late if she didn’t get up and get a move on.
The situation was what it was, she thought as she padded on bare feet across the hardwood floors, into the en suite bathroom. She braced her hands on the counter and forced herself to take a good, hard look at herself. There was no taking back the words. No changing what had already happened. So she might as well get over it. She would need to figure out what kind of damage control she should implement so that they could move on accordingly. She wasn’t going to marry a man who didn’t love her and Zane would have to come to terms with that.
But for now, she had a meeting she needed to prepare for. She turned on the cold water and splashed her face. Even the bracing tap couldn’t wash away the memory of Zane standing there, one cool cowboy. After her confession, he’d stood there stoically for a moment, and then, without missing a beat, he’d acted as if he hadn’t heard her. He’d simply repeated his original suggestion that she take some time to think about getting married and they’d talk about it later. Then he left.
That was it. On the surface, it seemed like it hadn’t even fazed him. After he’d gone, she’d stood there for a few minutes wondering if he’d even heard what she’d said. But of course he had. She’d blurted it loud and clear and now he knew.
It was simmering underneath and that was what made it worse. It would’ve been better if he had acted shocked or repulsed—okay, maybe not repulsed. That would’ve been worse. But some kind of a reaction would have been better than none at all.
Did he think by not acknowledging what she said it would simply go away?
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Maybe she should borrow a page from his playbook and pretend like it hadn’t happened. Pretend like she hadn’t made a total fool of herself, that she hadn’t said anything at all.
If only.
She grabbed her toothbrush and squeezed out a pearl of toothpaste.
No, the only way to handle this would be to face it head-on and...and then what? Dissect the fact that she loved him and he didn’t return her feelings? What more was there to say? She understood. She didn’t need to make it any more painful than it already was.
Loving someone wasn’t a heinous act.
I love you.
Boo. Hiss. You terrible person. How dare you love me?
In fact, if he had a problem with it, wouldn’t he be the jerk?
But Zane wasn’t a jerk. He’d never been a jerk to her. Not even when he’d told her they needed to just be friends. Even then, he’d been warm, and tender, and concerned about her. And he had been the one to first reach out in friendship, proving that nothing had changed between them.
Even though everything had changed.
She continued the mental pep talk as she brushed her teeth.
Plus, he was the one who had suggested that they get married. Of course, he had basically acknowledged that it would be a loveless marriage—and in his eyes, that was the beauty of the arrangement.
Then she had to spoil it all by saying “I love you.” Ugh. Great. Now the song “Somethin’ Stupid” would be stuck in her head for the rest of her life.
She rinsed her mouth and toothbrush and returned the brush to the rack. As she showered and got ready for the day, she decided the best plan was to do nothing. She’d give Zane some space. Maybe her great revelation would make him think twice about the proposition he’d presented last night.
As she sat at her dressing table, she pulled up her music streaming app on her phone and found the Frank and Nancy Sinatra version of “Somethin’ Stupid,” the song that had earwormed its way into her brain since she’d inadvertently quoted it earlier. She wallowed in how perfectly the lyrics fit her situation as she put on her makeup. For balance, next she played “I Told Ya I Love Ya, Now Get Out.” It fortified her.
The reality that had been swimming in her subconscious, just below the surface, came up for air: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. In the past, when the going got tough, she’d always fallen back on her daydreams. In those fantasies, Zane had loved her. He would look at her and say, “It’s you, Lucy. It’s always been you.” And then he would kiss her, they’d get married and they would live happily ever after.
But the reality of the situation was that Zane didn’t love her. He was willing to marry her out of obligation.
She supposed she could take a chance that he might grow to love her—maybe she had enough love for both of them. But what would happen if the right woman came along and he did fall in love with someone else? He would be saddled with her and their child. Given all that Zane had gone through growing up, she didn’t think he would cheat—he probably wouldn’t leave her, either. But what kind of life would that be, stuck in a loveless marriage? Stuck with someone who you liked a whole lot but just couldn’t love? It wasn’t his fault. The heart wanted what the heart wanted. It wasn’t as if he could reprogram himself to feel different.
But at the same time, she was only human and she couldn’t help but fear being the one who was in love...the vulnerable one. The thought of such a lopsided relationship made her feel sad and sick. She’d experienced morning sickness enough to know the difference—this was what it felt like to be heartsick in a hopeless situation. For a hopeless romantic to have her fears of being unlovable validated.
The best thing she could do would be to do nothing. She would let Zane come to her, and when he did, she would tell him she’d had a chance to think about things, but she hadn’t changed her mind.
Surely, he wouldn’t argue with that, would he?
* * *
The Picnic in the Park event committee met in Central Park in downtown Celebration for a walk-through. Lucy was a visual person and she wanted to see the area where the community picnic would take place to get a better idea of where the games, tents and stands would go. They needed to make sure they had plenty of parking for those who were driving in, but they still needed to reserve an adequate amount of space for the fireworks and the food-truck brigade that was gaining a popular following in Celebration.
“How many tables do you think we need for the hot-dog eating contest?” M
ary Irvine asked. “Last year Pat Whittington complained for a good six months that he didn’t have enough elbow room and that’s why he didn’t win.”
“Pat Whittington is a sore loser,” said Sandra Riggs. “His not winning had nothing to do with whether or not he had enough elbow room. Maybe he should stop complaining, and stuff more food down his gullet. If nothing else, it would shut him up.”
Sandra and Mary laughed. Lucy could see that this could digress fast, so she quickly steered them back on task.
“That’s the reason I’ve asked people to sign up for all of the contests by the end of the day on July 1,” said Lucy. “That way we’ll have a better idea how much space we need for each event and we won’t have to push people together.”
Judy Roberts frowned. “You know we’ve never done it that way before...” She slanted a knowing look at Mary, who pursed her lips and raised her brows. “Word on the street is people think preregistering for the games sucks all the fun out of it.”
Judy shrugged. “There. I said it. It needed to be said. I’ve been on this committee for as long as Picnic in the Park has been around and that’s just not the way we do it.”
Carol Vedder put her hands on her slim hips. “If you’ve been on the committee that long, Judy, how come you’ve never wanted to step up and chair the event?”
Carol looked smug. “There. I said it. It needed to be said. You always have such good ideas, but you never want to do the work to get them done.”
Judy blanched, and even though Lucy could have hugged Carol’s neck for saying exactly what she was thinking, she did her best not to appear as if she was taking sides.
“It’s okay. I appreciate everyone’s help and all opinions are welcome,” said Lucy. “Even so, I’m going to try out preregistering this year. If it doesn’t work, the committee can always do away with it next year.”
“I think it’s a good idea to ask people to preregister,” Carol chimed in. “It will make things so much easier for the volunteers on the day of the event.”
A Bride, a Barn, and a Baby Page 6