Nicholas glanced at Laura, not bothering to deny that he had been staring. “I’m just curious. There’s something about the two of them that doesn’t fit.”
“The consensus of the female population in greater Atlanta is that she’s lucky to have him. He was quite a catch. He had women chasing him for years before he settled down.”
“So what was her secret?”
“I’ve never understood it.” Laura’s gaze settled on the front table where Jonathan and Audrey were seated. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, something that looked surprisingly like jealousy flitting across her face.
Jonathan turned just then and looked directly at Laura.
She put a hand on Nicholas’s arm. And it felt to him that she very much hoped the other man had noticed.
While they ate their nouvelle cuisine dinner of fifty-cent-piece-size cuts of filet mignon adorned with three runt-of-the-crop potatoes, Laura asked about his work as a prosecutor, hobbies, college. To his own credit, Nicholas did not let his gaze stray to Audrey Colby again. It spooked him a little, this current he felt between them.
Maybe his imagination simply needed an outlet. He had, after all, gone from a career where the daily supply of nothing-is-as-it-appears stories was endless. Maybe the dryness of corporate law had him thirsty for the familiar. Then pick another subject, Wakefield. Whatever it is you think you might have imagined about Audrey Colby is exactly that. Imagined.
He had thoroughly convinced himself of this, until the dinner ended, and he went to get Laura’s coat from the coat-check room. Jonathan and Audrey stood at the door, waiting for the attendant to return. He had his hand wrapped around her arm just above the elbow. Something about the way he held her didn’t look right to Nicholas. It was more of a grip than a touch.
Jonathan glanced up and saw him. He let go of his wife’s arm. But it was impossible to miss the white imprint where his fingers had been, standing in stark relief against her pale skin.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AT JUST AFTER ten o’clock, Nicholas drove Laura back to the Buckhead Diner where she had left her car. She suggested going in for a drink, but he pleaded an early morning, so they called it a night.
He’d sensed her disappointment, but he had wanted to be alone, as if by putting miles between himself and what he’d seen at that coat-check room, he could believe there had been nothing to it.
But after Laura pulled away, he sat in his car thinking about what he had seen.
He loosened his collar and dropped his head against the back of the seat.
Not his business. Leave it alone. Clearly, that was the right choice.
Wasn’t that exactly why he’d left his job as a prosecutor? Hung up his white hat? He’d given up trying to make the world work in a different way.
What he had seen might not have been what it appeared to be, anyway. Or so he could hope.
AS SOON AS they’d arrived home from the dinner, Jonathan had closed himself in his office. He had been silent throughout the drive, and Audrey said a silent prayer of thanks for the reprieve. She could only assume seeing Laura with Nicholas had bothered him enough to shift the focus away from any transgressions Audrey might have made during the evening.
She stood at the window of Sammy’s bedroom, looking out at the backyard, comforted by her son’s even breathing. Just the sound of it steadied her, smoothed the edges of the worry making her nearly nauseous. If only she could turn the clock forward to Jonathan’s trip, make the days go by. A single opportunity. She wanted it so desperately that the thought of it slipping through her fingers left a metallic taste in her mouth, the taste of potential failure, of hopelessness.
Nicholas Wakefield was a threat to that opportunity. She had seen it in his eyes tonight when she glanced up to find him staring at Jonathan’s grip on her arm. Jonathan had been angry, accusing her of flirting with Trent Wilson, the man seated beside her. Audrey knew Trent was very much in love with his wife, but Jonathan was blind to that. She had, after all, smiled at one of the man’s jokes.
The impossibility of her position made her feel as if she had concrete attached to her feet, pulling her down with no hope of ever getting her head above water again. For so long, she had prayed that someone would notice, throw her a rope, pull her in. But to the rest of the world, she was floating along, living an idyllic life: pampered, treasured, the wife of a man half the women in Atlanta would have stood in line for had they thought he was available.
Something told Audrey, however, this was not what Nicholas Wakefield saw. She could not explain how she knew, but she felt it. Felt the questions, the concern. And how odd that was, that a virtual stranger felt concern for her.
But she did not want his interference; she hoped that he would forget what he had seen tonight.
For the next few days, she had to hold her existence together, keep the pieces in place. If one, even one, slipped, it might ruin everything. She knew without doubt that this was her last chance. Her only chance. If she failed this time…she could not bear even to think of it.
THAT NIGHT, Nicholas dreamed about Sherry.
Vivid, Technicolor dreams in which her beautiful young face was full of life. He’d taught her how to ride a bike, and that was the day his memory played for him. They’d been in the backyard at the farm, Nicholas, nine, Sherry, seven. She’d taken the lesson as seriously as she had her first day at kindergarten. More than anything, she wanted to ride her bike behind Nicholas down the lane in front of their house. She’d caught on amazingly fast, from sheer will their mother said later. Her mission in life, from the time she could walk, was to keep up with Nicholas. When she had mastered the backyard, they’d gone out to the front of the house, their bikes side by side for the first ride down the gravel drive.
“Don’t forget about your brakes,” Nicholas said. “If you need to slow down, just tap on them.”
Sherry frowned, some of her confidence wavering. “What if they don’t work?”
It was a question Nicholas had never considered. He puzzled over it a moment, and then said, “Just put your feet on the handlebars, and let her roll.”
Nicholas woke abruptly, his sister’s little-girl giggle echoing in his head.
He raised up on his elbows at a sound from the doorway. The dog stood just across the threshold, watching him. By choice, she slept in the kitchen, refusing the pillow he’d placed a few feet away from his own bed. He still hadn’t named her; he couldn’t seem to settle on anything that fit. “Guess I woke you, huh?”
She stared at him, unblinking, then lay down outside the door.
Nicholas got out of bed, went into the bathroom and took a couple of Excedrin to kill the headache beating at his temples. The man staring back at him in the mirror looked as if he hadn’t bothered to go to bed at all.
Over the years, he could count the number of times he’d dreamed about Sherry, her presence denied to him even in his sleep. The few times he had dreamed of her were when he was especially bothered about a case, when the injustice of a wrong would not leave him alone.
He had fallen asleep a few hours ago with Audrey Colby’s face firmly imprinted in his mind, the stain of her husband’s fingerprints on her arm an image that looped through his thoughts on permanent repeat.
He could deny it all he wanted, tell himself things weren’t always what they seemed. But he’d listened to his gut too long to ignore it this time. And he knew what his gut was telling him.
The injustice of a wrong.
Nicholas saw his sister’s face again, suspended in youth. He hadn’t let himself think of that night for a long time. He’d blocked it from his thoughts because that was the only way he’d been able to find his way forward. But there was something about Audrey Colby that prodded him to look back, as if there were something he had forgotten and needed to remember.
THE LAST THING Nicholas had wanted to do was pick his little sister up after the football game that Friday night. He had a date with Maria Reed. They’d been seeing one anothe
r for about two months, and he had a feeling that night would be the night. He’d looked forward to their date all week, sitting in his senior calculus class daydreaming about her creamy skin and long legs.
No week had ever passed so slowly. And on Friday morning, when his mother had asked him to give Sherry a ride after the game, he’d done his best to get out of it.
“Mom, I’ve got plans,” he’d argued from the breakfast table where he’d been racing his way through a bowl of cereal.
“Son, your father and I won’t be out of the symphony until after eleven. The game will be over by ten at the latest. And since your sister is still grounded for being late last week, I’m sticking to my guns on her not riding home with friends.”
Nicholas shot a glance at Sherry who was glaring at their mother, her dark hair falling over one shoulder, her blue eyes full of fire. At fifteen, she was beautiful and headstrong in a way that redefined the words willful teenager. “Oh, Mom, can’t I just ride home with Beth and Suzie?”
“This is not open for discussion, young lady. If you weren’t cheering at the game, you’d be staying at home tonight,” Charlotte Wakefield said. Their mother was not the strictest of disciplinarians. Even though her limits could be tested a lot farther than most of the moms Nicholas knew, Sherry had stepped over the line this time. Her curfew was midnight, and when she’d straggled in at two-thirty the previous Saturday night, his mother had been pacing the floor, certain she was lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death.
Sherry’s excuse had been weak. And even though Nicholas was only a little over two years older than his sister, he’d already learned how frantic his parents could get if he didn’t show up on time or at least call. Sherry hadn’t yet learned that.
“Mom, I’ve got a date,” he tried again. “With Maria. I haven’t seen her all week—”
“You’ll still see her. You just have to pick up your sister after the game,” she said, her tone final.
He slid back his chair, leaving his cereal unfinished. “Next time you get grounded, pick a better weekend, Sher.”
“Oh, you’re just mad because you think you might not get to make out with Maria,” Sherry said.
“Sherry,” her mother warned. “You’re the one being punished here. Not your brother.”
“You could have fooled me,” Nicholas mumbled.
Sherry shot out of her chair and stomped off down the hall to get her books.
“Nicholas, I’m sorry to mess up your plans, but if I don’t stand by this, she’ll never learn that there’s a price to pay for her actions.”
Some not-yet-ready-to-admit-it part of himself knew his mother was right.
“You’ll do this for me, won’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah, Mom, I’ll do it,” he said, before heading out the door.
MARIA’S PARENTS were out of town for the weekend. She’d invited Nicholas over for dinner, a meal she’d cooked herself after asking him what his favorite things were. When he arrived at her house just after six, he could smell the aroma of roast beef wafting in from the kitchen.
But as he stared at Maria dressed in a pair of close-fitting blue jeans and a black blouse with a rounded neckline that hinted at cleavage, the last thing on his mind was food.
“Hi,” she said, smiling.
“You look great,” he said, smiling back, putting his hands on her narrow waist and pulling her close. He leaned against the door, and they kissed for a long time, both of them forgetting about everything except the fact that they’d been driving one another crazy the past two months by doing everything but going all the way. The kissing got wilder, and he ran his hands along her back, before coming around to cup her breasts, the ache inside him growing heavier by the moment. The buzzer sounded. They ignored it for several seconds, until Maria said, “I better get that. Don’t want the house to catch on fire.”
“Yeah,” he said, following her into the kitchen and helping get the roast beef out of the oven. Maria had swiped a bottle of wine from her parents’ supply. Nicholas managed to get the bottle open and poured them both a glass. They sipped at it, laughing about some of the things that had happened at school that week, and actually got as far as mashing the potatoes before they started kissing again.
She unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hands inside, driving him crazy with her touch. He didn’t think he could stand it if they stopped this time, and to his great relief, Maria took his hand and led him from the kitchen, saying, “We can eat later. I don’t think this can wait.”
He followed her up the stairs to her room where she closed the door behind them and locked it. Nicholas had made out with a couple of girls, but both encounters had been of the experimental variety. With Maria, he wanted it to be more than that. He wasn’t sure he knew what love was, but this felt like every description he’d ever heard. He stood there looking at her for several seconds, appreciating her soft curves and open, inviting expression.
They started kissing again, their breathing harsh and headed toward out of control.
Nicholas picked her up and laid her in the middle of her bed, sweeping aside the stuffed animals at the top. He unsnapped her jeans, his hand splayed on the flat of her belly, while she pushed his shirt from his shoulders.
None of the foreplay they’d been practicing for weeks had prepared Nicholas for the reality of making love. It was better than anything he’d ever imagined.
“How many more times can you do it?” Maria asked with a laugh, lying back against the pillow, the sheet barely covering her breasts.
“How many times can you?” he questioned in return, smiling. He glanced at the clock and then groaned. Nine-thirty. “I’ve gotta go.”
“What is it?” Maria asked, wrapping an arm around his waist, her head on his shoulder.
“I have to pick Sherry up at ten.”
“Tonight?” Maria couldn’t hide her disappointment.
“She’s grounded, and Mom asked me to give her a ride after the game.”
“But I thought—”
He rolled over and scooped her up against him, loving the feel of her naked body next to his. “I’m sorry. I tried to get out of it, but Mom wasn’t giving on this one.”
Maria sighed and said, “Just a few more minutes.”
Nicholas glanced at the clock again. Nine-thirty-five. “I really should go.”
Her face settled into disappointment. “My parents will be home tomorrow. Who knows when we’ll have another chance like this?”
Nicholas groaned. “Yeah,” he said. “Who knows?”
MARIA WENT with him to pick up Sherry at the high school. It was almost ten-thirty. He was only a half hour late and already most of the parking lot was empty. He drove down to the gymnasium door where he’d told Sherry he would meet her. He didn’t see her right away, so he pulled the Jeep under one of the overhead lights and turned off the ignition.
He looked at his watch and then at Maria who had her hand on his leg. “I wonder where she is.”
“Maybe she’s inside.”
“Yeah. Let me go look. I’ll be right back.”
Nicholas got out and went inside the gym. No one was in sight, but he called out, “Sherry?”
“Can I help you?” The school janitor, an older man with stooped shoulders, appeared from behind the bleachers, a broom in his hand.
“I’m looking for my sister. Sherry Wakefield. She was supposed to meet me outside the gym a little while ago.”
“Haven’t seen anyone in the last twenty minutes or so. What’s she look like?”
“Dark hair. Blue eyes. Probably wearing a leather aviator jacket.”
“Oh, yeah. Pretty little girl. She was here maybe thirty, forty minutes ago. Said she was waiting for her brother. I told her she could wait inside, but she said she’d be fine and went on out.”
Nicholas frowned. Maybe she’d gotten tired of waiting and left with some of her friends. “Was anyone else with her?”
The janitor bent to pick up a gum wrap
per. “Nope. Most everyone had gone by then.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing,” the man said.
Nicholas went back to the Jeep and opened the door. “Any sign of her?” he asked Maria.
She shook her head. “She wasn’t inside?”
“No. Where is she?” It would be just like Sherry to take off with some of her friends and forget he was waiting for her. But then Mom had been specific about her not doing that, and he didn’t think even Sherry would have pushed this one. He glanced around the dark parking lot again and then got inside the Jeep. “I guess we should wait a little while and see if she comes back.”
“Okay,” Maria said, then leaned over and kissed him. “Hey, don’t be so hard on her. She’ll probably be right back. And we were late.”
Nicholas knew she was right, but he was getting a little uneasy. It was almost eleven. An hour since they were supposed to meet. They waited until eleven-fifteen. By then, Nicholas was really worried. Sherry knew their folks would be home anytime, and he knew she wouldn’t want to come in after they did.
“Let’s drive through town,” he said, running a hand through his hair. They left the high school and headed for the mall where some of the kids hung out in the parking lot on weekends. Nicholas stopped the Jeep by a group of cars he recognized and lowered the window. A friend of Sherry’s came forward, recognizing him.
“Hey, Tina. Have you seen Sherry?”
“After the game, she was waiting outside the gym. We asked her if she wanted a ride. She said she was grounded, and you were picking her up.”
A knot began to form in Nicholas’s stomach. “Yeah. I was running late.”
Tina glanced at Maria and waved, a knowing smile on her face. “She wasn’t there when you went by?”
Nicholas shook his head. “I’ll go and check again. Maybe she’s there by now.”
“Okay. See you later.”
Nicholas waved, and they drove back to the high school. There were no cars in the lot now, and it was eerily quiet as he got out and called her name even though no one was in sight.
A Year and a Day (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 8