Cooking Up Romance (The Taylor Triplets Book 1)
Page 17
She understood completely, because the same had happened to her. She wished everything could be different, just the two of them and Emma, but those papers had changed her entire life.
She stood her ground. He stood at the door.
Without a kiss or a goodbye, he left, and with a full body shudder, Lacy understood exactly how much was at stake letting him go. Still, she couldn’t move.
Chapter Eleven
Monday morning at work, after staring at the ceiling all night trying to make sense of Lacy’s need to pull back from him, Zack went right to Ben.
“Take over the office and check up on the guys for me, will you?” He grabbed the prepared job bid from his inbox. All the form needed was a signature. “I’ll take care of this.” With new purpose, he headed for the door. “Call me if you have any problems.”
He caught the questioning glance Ben gave him, which, coming from Ben, was a big reaction. Yeah, Zack was taking this into his own hands. If there was a woman out there who looked like Lacy, he wanted to see her firsthand.
His hands were unsteady as he started the car, and a swarm of something fluttery gathered in his gut. The things he did for love. He’d be the one to get Evangelina DeLongpre’s signature, not Ben. If there was any chance this woman was related to Lacy, he owed her whatever information he could provide. It was also a selfish gesture, because one of the things he’d figured out last night in his sleeplessness was that her questionable birth circumstances were a major part of what kept them apart. If he could help solve the mystery, he might have a chance at winning her love.
During the thirty-minute drive to Santa Barbara, he took time to think through his motives. He loved Lacy and wanted her, and this quirky look-alike angle needed to be faced and dealt with. That was the practical side. He had it in his power to open the door, so he would. Why not? And he would do it for the woman he intended to share his life with. If she’ll let me! All the rest would be up to Lacy, but at least he could open the door on this one part.
He stopped at the entry gate of what most people would consider a modern dream home though, given the view from his car, it was a bit too boxy for his taste. Built on a coveted hillside with huge wraparound windows overlooking the Pacific Ocean out there in the distance, it spelled opulence. The extent of his nerves over making this delivery continued to surprise him.
“Must have done something right,” he said out loud, comparing Lacy’s modest family home with this minimansion. In Santa Barbara, no less, which automatically doubled a home’s worth. Location, location, location. They could rule out her being a public figure, since everyone would’ve noticed the resemblance a lot sooner. He wondered how someone the same age as Lacy could afford a place like this. For all he knew, she was a tech wiz. If she was the same age as Lacy. And if they actually looked alike. More questions to get answered, more reasons justifying him coming today.
With his interest piqued and his heart pumping, he pushed the visitor button and waited. After a good half minute, it seemed like nobody was home. Another surprise was the level of disappointment he felt, that he’d failed in his simple plan to get a firsthand look at Lacy’s so-called double.
“Yes? Who is it?”
The voice made the hair on his arms stand. It sounded just like Lacy’s. It also threw him for a moment, “Oh, hi,” he said after a short pause. “It’s Zack Gardner, of Franks & Gardner Construction. I have the final papers for your bathroom remodel and all we need is your signature to move forward.”
“I see, well, you’ve caught me at a bad time.” He heard baby babble in the background. Ben hadn’t mentioned she was a mother. “Can you leave them for me in the mailbox and I’ll bring them by your office later this week?”
Gooseflesh raced over his entire body. Though the phrasing was completely different, he could swear he was talking to Lacy! He searched for his voice. “Sure. Just drop it off at our office at your convenience. Or, if you’d prefer, you can mail it in.” He wanted to kick himself for suggesting that. How was he going to see her if she mailed it? “Though it would be quicker if you brought it by the main office. Then we could set up a date to begin your project ASAP.”
“Thanks so much for understanding. I’m in the middle of bathing my son before I put him down for his morning nap. I’d hate to ask you to come all the way back later.”
She was considerate like Lacy, too.
“Not a problem. I’m a dad—I understand routines.” The object was to keep her talking, but right now, he seemed to be the long-winded one. Not her. “I should have called first.” He’d been so hyped up about solving what stood between him and Lacy that he hadn’t thought the caper through.
“Well thank you, I appreciate it.”
It almost sounded like she’d been educated in Europe. “You’re welcome. Looking forward to working with you.” And seeing you!
Disappointed, Zack left the papers in the slit of the locked mailbox and put his car in Reverse. Being more intrigued than ever about the “sound-alike” redhead, who supposedly looked exactly like the woman he loved, he headed back to work.
* * *
Over the last few days, Lacy felt just as horrible not seeing Zack as when she’d started falling for him. Nothing relieved her anxiety. Living on jangled nerves and coffee for the last forty-eight hours, Lacy came to her senses. She could lose a good man if she didn’t reach out to him. He’d made that perfectly clear. If she kept being a coward, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, she’d be sure to be alone the rest of her life. Was that what she wanted?
It was foolish to think of herself as cursed. Childish, even—and she was a thirty-one-year-old woman.
Listless yet restless, with nothing to do but feel sorry for herself, she hated the situation she’d put herself in. Unable to move forward on the investigation or Zack. She was in an emotional rut. A funk, as her dad used to say. She preferred that term to having to admit she was borderline depressed.
She hadn’t even scheduled any more wedding gigs after the last. What a mess.
She picked up her crocheting project for distraction and flopped onto the couch. Maybe it would help get her mind off the adoption business and the mysterious look-alike. And Zack. The simple pistachio-colored place mat reminded her it wasn’t just Zack she could lose. Emma, too. The sweet child whose mother had left her. Had the mentholated rub helped her whistling nose? Lacy fought the sorry notion that by staying away she was merely adding to Emma’s losses.
If a heart could twist into a knot and tie itself to a rib cage, Lacy’s had. It was the only way she could describe the constant pain. And the only way to relieve that pain was to pace. Which she did for what seemed like hours. Walking. Thinking. Worrying. Wishing she’d done everything differently.
To the point of never meeting Zack? No way. He’d added so much to her life.
Lacy and Emma had a lot in common, too. They’d discovered it when Lacy had started teaching Emma how to cook, and then Emma had innocently blurted, “Dad says you lost your mom, too, but when you were ten.”
Lacy had been quick to explain that losing a mother to death was more permanent than from a divorce. But the concept hadn’t seemed to compute with Emma, probably because her mom was MIA. Then Lacy thought it through and understood—if a person never came around, they may as well be dead. That’s what a child might conclude. Why didn’t Mona want to be in Emma’s life? How had that affected Zack, too? The thought bothered Lacy to no end, and she wished Emma was near so she could hug her. Zack, too.
Mona had obviously chosen another life over the one she’d had with Zack and Emma. Lacy’s already aching heart pinched, causing her to gasp. Of course he wouldn’t automatically trust her and her need for some space. Wasn’t she doing the same thing? Choosing to replace them with her search for a sister who may or may not exist? Ben had a picture. She needed to see it, not hide out in her house. And she couldn’t avoid Za
ck and Emma any more.
The sudden queasiness over facing the truth forced her to take several deep breaths.
When Emma had started teaching Lacy how to crochet, Lacy had mentioned it was something she’d always meant to ask her mother to teach her. But she’d never gotten the chance.
“I used to hate crocheting after Mommy left, because she taught me how, but now I like it again,” Emma had said.
That last afternoon they’d spent together, Emma had confessed she’d wished Lacy could be her mother. That had been part of what caused Lacy to run. Brushing Emma’s hair had also rattled Lacy, the fact that she was growing closer and closer to the child. Zack, of course, was the main reason for her pulling back, because getting in too deep with him was scary enough. She lost what she loved. But then when Emma made her wish out loud, the picture of a happy family became complete. Was that dream possible?
The battle continued from losing her mom so early, then Greg, and most recently, her father. It made her want all the more to find a blood family again. If one even existed. To belong to something. If they did exist, it might help balance the void she’d carried around all her life, and help her heal. Then, for once and for all she could pursue that happily-ever-after dream Zack hinted at. Yes, having it all was possible.
With her knees knocking over the thought, Lacy knew she wasn’t ready.
The question remained, would she ever be?
Falling in love with Zack had started in motion the derailing of her guarded heart, and two nights ago he’d so much as admitted he loved her, too. His confession had felt like a train wreck at the time. More than she could bear. Now, with distance between them, frozen in place over trying to find a long-lost relative, along with two days of loneliness, soul-searching and some clearing of her mind, his words were hard to believe. Had he really said I love you while they were dancing, or had she imagined it? And since he’d said those words, the biggest question was, why had she let him go?
Not ready, remember, stupid? Besides, he’d sung them not said them.
The tired excuse bugged her. Why was she so needy? A coward? Dad would be so disappointed.
More pacing ensued, with the addition of nail and cuticle biting. When she drew blood, she assumed she deserved it.
Lacy forced herself to sit again and pick up the crocheting, hoping her bloody fingernails wouldn’t stain the yarn. She’d never been more tired in her life. Tired of letting negative emotions run roughshod over her. Tired of being afraid of what life was supposed to be about. But didn’t she have some control over allowing that little girl to lose another person, a person Emma saw as a mommy figure? And what about Zack, who’d been walked out on?
Are you that cruel?
The idea of hurting a completely innocent party finally rubbed the stupid from her eyes. She dropped the crochet hook and yarn.
I love Zack, with all my heart, and there’s no point in denying it. Her love for him wasn’t going away. It was too late to stop it. He—and Emma—were the family she hadn’t even known she’d been longing for until they’d fallen into her life. They’d unknowingly become part of that lifelong nebulous but constant feeling of missing something or someone, and never knowing who. Under the missing person’s category, she’d had plenty of people to choose from. Of course, she missed them all, but that was a completely different kind of feeling. It was grieving. Buried under her losses was something that had been there long before anyone had died. It was that sense she’d been ripped away from something or someone, as if a part of her soul was torn and in need of repair. How could she explain that to anyone? It couldn’t be normal.
Zack was right in front of her, asking her to take the next step. To be a whole person. With a normal life. With him. Was it possible?
She was sick of being alone, and yet she’d sent him away insisting it was for his own good. As if she was protecting him, not herself. How crazy was that? Maybe she needed a shrink. Or maybe it was time to quit letting all those old and negative feelings hold her hostage? To stop letting that old sense of being incomplete ruin the rest of her life.
She had a choice to make. Stick with the old not-working-at-all plan or quit writing her personal self-fulfilling prophecy—one of the few words she’d retained from Psychology 101—which guaranteed her winding up alone, the last place she wanted to be from now on.
Break free. Do something. Move it, sister!
She rushed to the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth, threw on her jeans and, sniffing her armpits first, put on a shirt. Instead of calling, because it was late, she hopped in her car and drove to Zack’s house.
She knew he’d be home, and though it took all the courage she could muster, she was finally ready to tell him exactly how she felt. Even if she passed out in the process.
Because it was late, she knocked rather than rang the bell, which might wake Emma. Her heart pounded behind her ribs and her mouth was dry, but she stood tall, determined to be honest and open with the man she...loved. Trembling, she silently prayed it wasn’t already too late.
He must have heard her car in the driveway, because he opened the door almost immediately.
The saying about a sight for sore eyes couldn’t have been more accurate. He looked as wrung out as she felt. Hair uncombed, dark smudges under his eyes, with weekend stubbles hanging on through Monday and Tuesday shadowing his cheeks. He was barefoot and probably hadn’t showered yet. Still, he was the most glorious human she’d ever seen.
“Lacy,” he said on a breath.
“Zack.” The word squeaked out.
He held the door handle and watched her cautiously.
Her pulse doubled. “May I come in?”
He stepped aside and swung the door wider. “Of course.”
She’d made him wary of her, and the idea pierced her heart. He’d been through this before with a fickle wife, and Lacy had added to his mistrust. But now was the time to make it up to him.
Taking this step was the biggest risk of her adult life—becoming engaged in her early twenties hadn’t come close to this sensation—and she made the move because of one word. Love. She couldn’t hide from it any longer.
Zack was the one she loved.
She stopped in the middle of the entryway and swung around to face him. “I’ll get right to my point, because I’ve wasted enough of your time denying the truth. Plus, you gave me the impression it was my turn to take the next step when you left Sunday night.”
The tension around his eyes subsided. “That I did.”
“I’m way beyond falling for you, Zack Gardner—I’m completely in love with you. I’m just sorry it took me so long to see it and admit it.” Letting the truth out relieved her more than she ever would have imagined. “Please forgive me.”
“For telling me you love me?” He stayed where he was, as if moving might change the moment.
“For making you wait so long to hear it.” She rushed to him and fell into his open arms. They wrapped tight around her, and she knew she was home.
“You’re worth the wait, Lacy.”
Zack delivered an intense kiss, heavy with emotion and lighter on technique, but it was the greatest kiss Lacy had ever experienced. After the initial relief of them both coming clean with their feelings, their kisses became frantic and were soon overtaken with passion and need. Like always and from the start. His hands dug into her back and she nearly tore his T-shirt with her ragged nails. But so much more was going on. Her skin lit up and heat curled throughout her body. And there was only one surefire way to prove to Zack how much she loved him.
She tore her mouth from his. “Does that rule still apply about my staying over when Emma’s home?”
“Hell, no, not tonight,” he growled, lifting her as if knowing she was incapable of walking, carrying her to his bedroom, with her feeling like a princess the entire brief journey. When they arrived, he
used the heel of his bare foot to shut the door behind them, then took her to his bed where they landed together on his mattress. They made haste in stripping off their clothes, searching each other’s body for comfort, firing up their passion, and were soon grounded in truth. Through making love and connecting in the most intimate of all ways, they recovered everything they’d lost when Lacy had forgotten what was most important. The night he’d come for her and she’d let him leave. Alone.
Love. No other word came close to describing what they’d found again.
Much later, they still clung to each other until dawn peeked through the curtains and they finally went to sleep.
* * *
“Dad?” Emma said through the door. “Are you gonna drive me to school?” The door creaked open, letting in a cone of hall light and mortifying Lacy.
Zack sat bolt upright. “Shortcake? What time is it?”
Though Lacy’s first response was to do the same, to sit up, she forced herself to lie perfectly still, hoping beyond hope the sheet and covers might disguise her body. But how could she hide her hair? Still, she held her breath, not moving, praying for a miracle.
“It’s almost time to leave,” Emma said, as her voice ventured closer to the bed. “Are you sick?”
“No, hon, just lost track of time.” He scraped fingers through his hair in desperation, and Lacy reflected her own panic in his tone.
What should she do now? She scrunched her eyes tight, as if that could make her invisible.
“Lacy?”
Busted! She gulped, trying to cover her face with the sheet. “Uh, hi, Emma.”
“Are you girlfriend and boyfriend now?”