Surprise Partners

by Gina Wilkins

  “Good.”

  Scott scowled. “You needn’t sound so pleased about it. Damn it, Heather, I’m going to miss her.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’ve asked her to stay.”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who was just whining about how much you’re going to miss her.”

  “I was not—” Scott forced himself to stop and lower his voice. “I wasn’t whining. I merely stated a fact. And I haven’t asked her to stay because that would be unfair to Lydia. An opportunity like this doesn’t come along every day. She would be crazy to turn it down, and I would be a jerk to ask her to. You don’t just ask someone to walk away from a life’s dream, Heather.”

  “I see.” She smoothed the pretty dress she’d worn for the rehearsal. “Well, that’s very noble of you, I suppose.”

  Damn straight it was, Scott thought grimly. Heather had no idea how often he’d had to bite his tongue to keep himself from begging Lydia not to go.

  Checking her reflection in a decorative mirror on the wall, Heather said, “I’m just glad you haven’t come up with a harebrained notion like moving to Florida with her. Your life is here, and I don’t want you to forget that. It’s not as if you’re in love with her or anything. You never have any trouble finding women to spend time with. Maybe once Lydia’s out of the picture, you’ll give my friend Julie a chance. She’s still available, you know. And although she likes her job as a kindergarten teacher, she doesn’t intend to let it keep her from getting married and having a family once she finds the right guy.”

  Only the reappearance of Heather’s wedding consultant kept Scott from strangling his sister. Okay, he thought, so maybe he wouldn’t have actually strangled her. But he might have made her wish he had.

  He’d never heard such nonsense in his life—even from Heather. So why did her words keep echoing in his mind as he walked her down the aisle? And why did Heather keep smiling at him so oddly—almost resignedly?

  “So how was the rehearsal?” Lydia asked Scott much later that evening, speaking from the hollow of his bare shoulder, where she had burrowed to recover her strength. Still damp and heavy-limbed from love-making, they lay in the tangled sheets of her bed.

  They had hardly spoken since he arrived. Scott had taken her in his arms the minute she opened the door to him, and they’d ended up in the bedroom only moments later.

  “The rehearsal was long,” he answered her. “And boring. They made us keep doing the same things over and over.”

  “That’s to make sure you do it right when it counts.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see. Steve and I have a bet that the flower girl is going to wimp out when she has to perform in front of an audience. She’s cute as a button, but shy.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be adorable. And you and Steve shouldn’t be placing bets on possible wedding glitches. Heather would be very put out with you both if she knew.”

  He shrugged. “Steve had better get used to Heather being put out. I know I am.”

  “Still, her wedding day is very important. You shouldn’t joke about it.”

  “I have to admit I find some of this wedding stuff kind of silly. Wouldn’t she be just as married without all the fuss and fancy?”

  “Of course. But some women like the fuss.”

  He toyed with a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger. “Heather definitely likes being the center of attention.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” she said with a chuckle.

  Supporting himself on one elbow, he propped his head on his hand, looking down at her. “I’m glad you’ll be with me at the wedding. You can keep me out of trouble.”

  “And just how am I supposed to do that?”

  “If I get out of line, you can give me that look you do so well. You know, your professor look.”

  She laughed. “I don’t know if my ‘professor look’ would have much effect on you.”

  “Surely you know by now that everything you do has an effect on me.”

  She might have blushed a little. The room was too shadowy for him to be sure. “More of your blarney,” she murmured.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Just stating facts.”

  “I’m thirsty,” she said, sitting up and reaching for her robe. “I need a glass of water. Do you want anything?”

  “Actually, I’m thirsty, too.” He stepped into his slacks and followed her toward the kitchen without bothering with shirt or socks. He stumped his toe hard on a packing box halfway across the living room. Hopping inelegantly, he muttered an obscenity.

  Lydia turned in the kitchen doorway. “Are you okay?”

  “Do you have to leave these boxes all over the floor like this? Someone could get hurt.”

  He didn’t usually speak so crossly to her. She blinked, then said, “I’m sorry. I should have pushed it closer to the wall.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. It was my fault for not paying attention.”

  “It’s late. You’re tired. I understand.”

  Entering the kitchen, he accepted a glass of water from her. “It isn’t just that,” he admitted. “I guess I really hate seeing these packing boxes. I don’t like the reminder that you’ll be leaving so soon.”

  She sipped her water and looked away from him.

  “I’ll miss you, Lydia,” he said after a moment.

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  He studied her face, trying to read her expression. He couldn’t help remembering Heather’s criticism that Lydia kept her feelings well hidden so that he would never really be sure how she felt about him.

  He knew she had some reservations about her move. Natural doubts about leaving her home, moving away from her sister, starting a new job. And she had said she would miss him. But how did she really feel about leaving him?

  It hadn’t hurt like this when Paula moved away. He and Paula had agreed from the start that they wouldn’t always be together—just as he and Lydia had implied. But he’d never been tempted to try to change Paula’s mind. He had missed her in some ways—after all, they’d had some great times together—but her absence hadn’t left a hole in his life.

  Lydia was going to leave a very large hole behind. One he didn’t quite know how he was going to fill.

  The wedding, for all its “fuss and fancy” as Scott had called it, was beautiful. Lydia sat with Michael and Judy Chang during the ceremony while Scott escorted his sister down the aisle and then moved to stand as one of Steve’s attendants. She thought the nontraditional arrangement was very sweet, signifying Scott’s full approval of this wedding.

  A lavish reception followed the ceremony. The band Heather had hired was very good, the caterer excellent, the decorations lovely. If she were the type of woman who dreamed of big, splashy weddings, this was exactly what she would have wanted, Lydia reflected.

  Though she had never considered herself overly sentimental, she felt tears mist her eyes when Heather and Steve exchanged their vows. She told herself that it was only happiness for the other couple causing her heart to ache. Certainly not envy.

  Scott stayed close to Lydia’s side during the reception. Together they mingled with his friends, making conversation, enjoying themselves immensely—though it was obvious Scott wished everyone would quit asking about Lydia’s upcoming move. Every time it came up, he found a way to quickly change the subject.

  “Are you all packed?” Cameron asked, ignoring Scott’s frown.

  “Almost,” she answered. “I’ll be doing a lot of last-minute box stuffing, but I have it pretty much under control.”

  “I’ll miss seeing you at our gatherings.”

  She smiled at Cameron, whom she now considered a friend. “That’s very nice. Thank you.”

  “You’ll be back to visit, won’t you?”

  “Of course. My sister’s here. I hope to be back often to visit her.”

>   “And I hope you’ll be able to visit us, as well.”

  She smiled without answering. She didn’t know if she would see Scott’s friends again—for that matter, she didn’t even know if she would be seeing Scott again. They hadn’t discussed staying in contact after she moved. They were both so carefully avoiding talk about the move, she mused ruefully. It was as if they thought that if they ignored it long enough, they wouldn’t have to deal with it.

  Proving that he was still in no mood to discuss it, Scott took her arm. “Let’s go dance.”

  Accompanying him to the dance floor, she followed his example and pushed the move to the back of her mind. She wanted to enjoy the rest of the day and she couldn’t do that if she dwelled on the near future.

  Heather cornered Lydia alone not long before the reception ended. “Well?” she asked, beaming happily. “What did you think of my wedding?”

  “It was beautiful,” Lydia answered sincerely. Then added just as candidly, “And so are you.”

  Heather’s smile deepened as she patted her lace-and-satin gown. “Thank you. I know Scott’s been making fun of me for wanting all the pomp and ceremony, but I’ve dreamed of a wedding like this since I was a girl. And it was everything I’d hoped it would be.”

  “I’m sure you and Steve will be very happy together.”

  “I think so, too.” Heather’s expression suddenly became harder to read. “So you’re moving in another couple of weeks?”

  Lydia nodded. “I’ll be gone before you return from your honeymoon.”

  Smiling mysteriously, Heather murmured, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again. I have an instinct for knowing things like that, you know.”

  Lydia found herself at a loss for words. There were times when Scott’s sister was a total enigma to her.

  “Heather, let’s have one more dance before we leave,” Steve said, approaching the two women with Scott trailing just behind him.

  She whirled to her new husband eagerly. “Of course.” Glancing over her shoulder at Lydia, she added quietly, “I’ve planted the seed for you. We’ll just have to wait and see if it took root. But I just want you to know that it wasn’t an easy choice for me.”

  Lydia had no idea what Heather was talking about. She watched her leave in utter bewilderment.

  Scott slid an arm around her waist. “So what were you and my sister discussing so intently over here?”

  “To be honest,” she said, looking rather blankly up at him, “I’m not absolutely sure.”

  He chuckled wryly. “Yeah. That sounds like a typical conversation with my sister. Let’s go enjoy this last dance, shall we?”

  Last dance. Even those words struck Lydia with a pang. She hid the reaction behind a bright smile. “Yes, let’s.”

  They spent her last night in Dallas in Scott’s apartment since Lydia’s was empty. They didn’t waste much of the night sleeping.

  Lydia was making coffee for breakfast when Scott slid his arms around her waist from behind, burying his face in her hair. “What will I do without you?” he murmured.

  She swallowed, keeping her eyes on what she was doing. “Make your own coffee?”

  “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

  She sighed lightly. “I know.”

  “Have I mentioned that I really hate it that you’re moving away?”

  He hadn’t, actually. He had merely alluded to it that one night before Heather’s wedding.

  “I’ll miss you, Lydia.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against him. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  Very slowly, he turned her to face him. His hands on her shoulders, he studied her face, which she knew must show the strain of her emotions. “What would you have said,” he asked quietly, “if I had asked you not to go?”

  “I…” She swallowed, a surge of panic rising to almost strangle her. “I honestly don’t know.”

  His gaze bored into hers, his eyes much more serious than his tone. “Shall I try it and see?”

  Her heart jumped straight into her throat, making it even harder to speak. “I really hope you don’t,” she whispered.

  He looked tempted to do so anyway. She didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed when he grimaced and nodded. “You’re right, of course. It would be an incredibly selfish move on my part. I want only the best for you, Lydia. And that seems to be in Florida for now.”

  She swallowed. “I hope you’re right.”

  His smile was strained. “I’m sure it will be everything you hoped it would be.”

  She bit her lip.

  “The coffee’s ready,” Scott said, moving away. “You take cream, don’t you?”

  She blinked rapidly to clear a hot film from her eyes. “Yes. Cream. No sugar.”

  Though he’d had little sleep the night before, Scott spent most of that night pacing through his apartment. It seemed so quiet. So empty. Even emptier knowing that there was no one in the apartment upstairs.

  He shouldn’t have let her go, he thought, thumping his fist against a wall. He should have begged her to stay. Something about the way she’d looked at him with her heart in her eyes just before they parted had told him he might have talked her into staying.

  And eventually she would have hated him for it.

  He hit the wall again.

  I’m just glad you haven’t come up with a harebrained notion like moving to Florida with her.

  The recurring echo of Heather’s words from the wedding rehearsal caused a by now familiar reaction inside him—pure panic. Leave everything he had here to trail after a woman who had never indicated she even wanted to see him again? He would be insane to do so.

  He had to face it. It wasn’t meant to be. What he and Lydia shared had been spectacular, but it was over. They were both moving on. They would get past this.

  But it hurt, he thought. It hurt very badly.

  It’s not as if you’re in love with her or anything, he could hear Heather saying again.

  He muttered a curse and turned away from the wall before he was tempted to hit it hard enough to break his hand.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Even after living in Florida for six weeks, there were still things Lydia had yet to grow accustomed to. Dallas tended to be casual, but she found Florida even more so. The ready availability of fresh seafood was wonderful, but she still hadn’t found a restaurant she liked quite as well as Vittorio’s. She could already tell she was going to love her job, but she still had a ways to go before she would feel completely at ease.

  She missed Dallas, but she liked her new surroundings and could see herself being content here eventually.

  She and Larissa stayed in close contact by telephone. It wasn’t as nice as being able to see her whenever she wanted, of course, but she knew they would always be close in spirit no matter how many miles separated them.

  She hadn’t heard from Scott.

  To say that she missed him would have been a massive understatement. Not one hour passed that she didn’t think about him, if only in passing. She had left part of her heart in Dallas with him, and the only thing she knew to do was to learn to live without that part of herself.

  There were times when she lay awake, missing him so badly her entire body ached. Wondering if she had made a huge mistake by leaving Dallas and everyone she loved there. By leaving Scott.

  Maybe she should have stayed. This was, after all, only a job. And as Larissa had once pointed out, a job couldn’t keep her company after hours. Couldn’t hold her during the long, lonely nights.

  Those doubts haunted her in the darkness. But with the sunrise came the certainty that she had made the right choice. What else could she have done?

  It was a Saturday afternoon, and Lydia was stretched out on her couch with a can of diet soda and a fast-paced romantic suspense novel. A selection of soothing New Age music played from her CD player. One of the resolutions she made when she took this drastic step in her life had been to make more time for
herself from now on. Time for relaxation. Pleasure. She might even find a hobby eventually.

  When the doorbell rang, her first thought was to ignore it. This was her time, she thought. There was no one she wanted to see now.

  No one in this particular state anyway.

  But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she wouldn’t be able to ignore the bell. Her natural curiosity wouldn’t allow it.

  By long-ingrained habit, she checked to see who was on the other side before she opened the door. At first, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Had she fallen asleep on the couch? Was she dreaming? Hallucinating?

  Very slowly, she opened the door. “Scott?”

  “Hello, Lydia.”

  It was startling enough to find him there. But equally surprising was what he was wearing. A red-and-white tropical-print shirt. Board shorts. Sandals. She had seen Scott in business wear and Western wear, but this was the first time she’d seen him in surf-bum chic.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said dazedly. Why hadn’t he called first? What did he want? What were the odds that she could handcuff him to her bed and keep him there forever?

  “Well?” He held out his arms as if modeling his outfit for her. “How do I look?”

  “You look…different.”

  He nodded as if satisfied with her answer. “May I come in?”

  Still numb, she moved aside.

  Scott passed her, studying the bright, airy living room of her town house apartment with interest. “This is very nice. I like all the windows. Great view.”

  “Thanks.” She shut the door, turning to stare at him again. Her heart was beating so fast, so hard, she could hardly speak. For the first time since she left Dallas, she felt whole again.

  It terrified her.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, almost dreading the answer. If he had come to ask her to return to Dallas with him, she didn’t know if she could refuse, no matter how much she liked it here, no matter what she would be giving up for him. Whatever the consequences, she had fallen deeply in love with Scott Pearson and she couldn’t keep torturing herself by trying to deny that fact.