“I only burned them once.” And she’d never live that down.
Chris shook his head. “We had to call the fire department.”
“That was a fluke. Something must have fallen in the grill.” She left the kitchen and walked down the little hall to Camilla’s room. “Hello. Is Furby here? I hear we’re playing dress up.”
“Hey, Ms. Sarah Beth. I have a costume for you, too.” Camilla picked up a spotted headband with large pink and black ears glued on it. “You put this on your head. I have pink and black face paint to make the cow face.”
“I can’t wait.”
They played through the evening. She loved this time hanging out with Camilla, but her heart pinched a little, too. Once, she’d imagined having a home with children. A family.
With her problem, that dream seemed unlikely.
Near bedtime, Kim came to take Camilla for a bath. Sarah Beth sat on the fuchsia-colored rug, putting doll furniture back in a large plastic container. With the costumes stored away, the mess cleaned up, she was ready to leave. Maybe Bryan would go home and forget about the singing. One could hope.
As she pushed up from the floor of Camilla’s bedroom, he appeared at the door. “Time to practice, Ms. Professor.”
Oh, shoot. He didn’t forget.
His head stretched forward, his eyes glued to her face. “What are you?”
Her hands went to her cheeks, dotted with makeup for that perfect bovine look. “New trend.”
“I hadn’t heard.”
“I’m starting it.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’ll wipe this off and be right out.” Maybe.
The paint required a good bit of scrubbing over the guest bathroom sink. Not quite as washable as the label suggested. After five minutes, most of her skin had returned to a near normal color. On to face the music.
Outside on the deck, the spring humidity held on, but a gentle breeze carried the scent of Confederate jasmine. Sarah Beth eyed her instrument of torture. Bryan Freeman. At least the rest of the students were gone. But the kid did have a voice as good as or better than any she’d met in show business. The pitch and quality were dead-on. Not to mention his range and resonance. One of her connections might speed up his career. Plus, if he made it big and moved to Nashville, he couldn’t put her on the spot at the CSU anymore. She’d have to make that call soon.
As she neared, he grabbed his guitar and patted the patio chair next to him. “Now, Ms. Professor, I think you will sound super-terrific singing a duet version that I created with a Third Day song. After that, I came up with another older song from Chris Tomlin that I think would be perfect for you. Are you sure you won’t solo?”
Sarah Beth crossed her arms. “Hmm, let me think about that. No.”
“Fine. No solo.” With a smile, he slid some sheet music in front of her and strummed his guitar. “Jump in when the Spirit leads.”
After putting Camilla to bed, Chris and Kim dropped into patio lounge chairs and kicked their feet up.
Her chest tightened. At first she tried not to look at Chris and Kim, who were watching them, smiling. But as the music took over, she let herself go. The duet Bryan worked out was lyrical and smooth and passionate.
“I feel like I’m on holy ground,” Chris said as the song ended. “That was unearthly. Thank you. I hope you sing for the group. Sarah Beth, I know you don’t feel comfortable doing it right now. So practice whenever you need to here at our house. I could listen to that all week.”
“Me, too,” Kim added. “I feel truly uplifted, even after such a long day. That’s the power of song.”
Bryan gave Sarah Beth a little push on the arm, lifting and lowering his eyebrows. “What’d I tell you?”
Maybe there was hope for her to overcome at least some of her anxiety. She sighed. “I give. Let’s practice some more. You never know who might show up to hear it.”
Chapter 10
Friday arrived in what seemed like an instant and an eternity. Sarah Beth had barely looked up from her work other than to pop sour gummy worms in her mouth. Another huge project deadline loomed, but she did her best work under pressure. A knock on her office door startled her. She jumped and the last gummy worm lodged in her throat.
Her gaze ran across Jess McCoy’s broad shoulders when she looked up. This was unexpected.
“I’m sorry to scare you—again.” Jess gave his usual self-assured smile. “You have to admit, you’re a pretty jumpy person.” He made himself at home, perusing the spacious room. “Are you going to offer me coffee, or skis—or some other little treasure you have stashed in here?”
The lump of candy slid down her throat after a hard swallow. She held out a handful of her treats. “Gummy worms?”
Jess did a double take. “Junk food? I pictured you a free-range chicken, organic milk type.”
“This is my emergency stash for stress relief. Everyone has their vice.”
Jess moved closer and looked down his faultless nose at her. “Any other vices you want to let me in on?”
Not going to blush. “So what brings you by?” She popped a piece of candy in her mouth.
He sat on the edge of her desk, maintaining eye contact. “Ready to ski tomorrow?”
Breaking from his stare, she chewed and fiddled with a stack of papers, pretending his proximity didn’t make the tops of her ears feel sunburned. “What time?”
“Turns out I have to work in the morning, so after lunch?”
Not going to look at those brown eyes. “I have a few hours free.”
“That should work. I need to text Nick and see if that works for him and his daughter.”
“What’s his story?”
Jess stood and looked toward the window. His shoulders sagged, and his expression softened.
Something was wrong or her question had been too personal. She held up one hand. “None of my business.”
“It’s fine. His wife died in childbirth. Her blood pressure.”
Small needles of pain jabbed at her heart. “That must have been so difficult.”
“It’s been tough.” His chin dipped in a slow nod. “Nick and I have been friends since we were kids back in Orlando. He went through a rough patch when we were in high school, started going down the wrong path. He and Paige met around that time. He was crazy about her. She told him to shape up or ship out. He shaped up and never looked back.”
“She must’ve been a great lady.”
“They married when they were only twenty. Were good together. They finally decided they could afford to have a baby.” His voice took on a hushed quality, and a shadow passed through his gaze. “Paige had been perfectly healthy, but her blood pressure went through the roof the entire pregnancy. The doctors put her on bed rest, but when she went to deliver, she had a seizure. They lost her.”
Jess studied his hands. “It devastated Nick, but he had an infant to care for. His mother was useless. Her mother just wanted to take the baby. He has a landscape management degree, so I found him a job here. We checked around with some of the coaches’ wives for recommendations on babysitters and preschools.”
A surge of admiration washed over her, bringing moisture to her eyes. “You’re a really great friend to him.”
The confident expression he normally wore transformed to something more humble. “Yeah, well, I never had a brother. He’s as close as it comes.” Then his jaw dropped, and he slapped his hand across his chest. “What? You didn’t think I could be a good friend? You barely know me.”
“You’re right. I don’t know you—I guess.”
His eyes bore into hers. “So get to know me.”
The challenge both burned and muddled her thinking. She picked up her stack of papers and straightened them a few times before speaking. “Uh, so, let me know for sure about the time tomorrow.” Could he hear her heart galloping?
Jess grinned. “See you tomorrow, Sarah Beth.”
“Goodbye, Jess.”
~~~
&n
bsp; Jess stifled a fist pump on his way down the stairs. Adrenaline coursed through him like he’d thrown a touchdown pass. His feet stopped midstride. Whoa. Why did she affect him that way?
His phone chirped. He checked the caller ID and switched off the sound. A bitter taste filled his mouth, replacing the sweetness from a moment before. Not her. Not now. He picked up his pace across the grassy lawn. Forget the sidewalks. He needed to go for a run.
His phone vibrated. Sophia again. She was one warhead of tenacity. Nick was right. He should’ve put an end to this years ago. They rarely saw each other anymore, and being together meant little to either of them. Mostly just a habit. A really bad habit.
Chapter 11
Six Years Earlier
As graduation neared, Sarah Beth ran scenarios through her mind. Over and over.
Mark begged her to come to Atlanta and find a job there—live with him and Holly as long as she wanted. But how would her relationship with Adam continue? If they couldn’t be in the same city, would he still want to be with her?
With a recommendation from Dean Latham, Sarah Beth received an offer in L.A., the same city Adam was accepted into medical school. She took the position and planned a celebration dinner at his favorite Mexican restaurant.
Once they’d placed their orders, she caught his hand as it hovered over a bowl of salsa. “Adam?”
“Si?” He’d drifted to Spanish to speak with the wait staff, a skill he learned from his childhood friend, Miguel.
“Should I be looking for my own apartment in L.A.?”
After rising to his feet, he came around to her side of the booth. “Scoot over.” He slid in beside her. “Sarah Beth, I’m sorry.”
A hollow ache filled her heart, and she brought both hands to her quaking stomach. “It’s okay.”
“I assumed that you knew I meant for you to live with me. Will you?” He pulled one of her hands over his heart.
“Will I what?”
“Stay with me, like we are, sharing my home?”
Shrugging sagging shoulders, Sarah Beth scrunched her nose as she spoke. “I guess.”
“That was not quite the reaction I was expecting, but I’ll take it.” He wrapped her in his massive arms. “I love you, Ms. LeClair.”
As happy as she was, those last few words lifted a bubble of apprehension.
Ms. Sarah Beth LeClair, not Mrs. Adam Lancaster.
~~~
They found an older studio apartment with a living room and kitchen combination. Wood floors covered the small space, but a high ceiling gave the area a larger feel. A brick wall on one side added character, as did the wrought iron spiral staircase that led to the bathroom and bedroom loft. With a broad sweep of her arms, Sarah Beth motioned towards the tall wall by the staircase. “I think we need a colossal painting here.”
Adam clucked his tongue. “We can’t go buy a huge piece of art for a while.”
His tone ruffled her. He’d never asked her about her finances, so why did he assume she couldn’t afford it? “I’ll find a bargain, or maybe a big canvas to paint an abstract myself.”
“Let me know the cost first.”
Anger ignited in her gut and steamed up to her ears. “Adam, I have a job. I’ll buy it after I give you half the rent and utilities.”
He stepped back and studied her. “Sorry. I see I’ve hit a nerve, but I don’t feel like you should pay to live with me. You didn’t before.”
“Because I already had the house in Oxford. I was staying with you in a place where you already lived. This is our home, not just yours, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll pay half of everything and buy things I feel like I need or want.”
“Fine, but be careful. People rack up debt quickly with credit cards.”
Was the steam firing from her ears? She thrust her hands to her hips. “I wasn’t expecting a lecture because I want to buy something to hang on the wall. If you must know, I won’t be going into debt.”
“Why’s that?” He crossed his arms and stared.
“Because.” This wasn’t the time to go into the amount of her inheritance. Not like this. “I follow the Dave Ramsey plan.”
“Who’s Dave Ramsey?”
“Really, Adam?” She blew out a long breath. “Never mind. What’s for supper? Want me to cook, or do you want to make something?”
Adam pursed his lips. “Hmm, let me think. I’m hungry so...definitely do not want you to cook. I’ll do it.”
“What does that mean?”
With one long step, he reached her and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his own.
His kisses still left her breathless. When he released her, she found her voice. “You cook. I’ll do the dishes.”
~~~
The thrill of working in a high-rise in downtown Los Angeles with walls of windows overlooking the city still hadn’t grown old. Every day Sarah Beth glided into the posh building, a rush of adrenaline pulsed through her veins. Her brain churned, whipping out ideas. A major food company had chosen her pitch for a Super Bowl commercial. Would Adam be as excited about her promotion?
After work, she fumbled for the keys in her bag and unlocked the door. She gasped when she saw a well-dressed middle-aged couple sitting on her couch.
“Are you a friend of Adam’s?” The tall, thin woman’s left eyebrow rose with her voice. “We’re his parents. We were in the area and came to see where he settled.”
She needed her business face. Smile. Like this was normal. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Sarah Beth.” She set her bag near the door. “Where’s Adam?”
“He’s in the shower. Would you like us to tell him you came by?”
Numbness clung to her extremities. His mother obviously had no idea that she lived here. Now what? Not the way she’d hoped to meet the Lancasters. Adam’s father sat reading the Wall Street Journal, not even looking at her.
Sarah Beth leaned against the bar that divided the kitchen and living room, wringing her hands. “Did he know you were coming?”
“We surprised him.”
Struggling to come up with what to say next, she pulled out her laptop and laid it on the counter. “That’s nice.”
Adam’s bare feet clomped down the stairs, his hair wet, still buttoning his shirt. “Sarah Beth, you’re early.” He pulled her close and kissed her, like always. The knot forming in her shoulders loosened a bit.
“Mom and Dad, this is Sarah Beth—the girl I emailed you about.”
Adam’s father finally looked up from his paper. “The one from Oxford? Are you visiting too?”
“She lives here. I told you a long time ago we were living together.”
His mother’s face screwed into a frown. Her designer pumps slapped against the wood floor as she stood and paced. “You didn’t say you were bringing her to L.A. I hope you don’t think we’re supporting both of you.” She stopped in front of Adam and squared off with him. “Remember your trust fund can’t be touched until you’re twenty-five.”
Sarah Beth’s vision blurred. This was so awkward and humiliating. She needed to leave.
Adam squeezed her close and kissed the top of her head. He lifted her chin and looked at her. “Sarah Beth has a job and pays half of everything. I never mentioned her moving out, so I thought you knew we were still together.” His gaze returned to his parents. “Most of the time you don’t respond to my emails, anyway.”
His parents only called Adam a few times a year, and now they’d shown up holding money over his head. Infuriating. She couldn’t be in this room one more second. “I’m going to change clothes.” She broke from Adam’s grip.
Upstairs, she leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. Her hands covered her eyes as if she could block out the image, but the conversation downstairs was still audible.
“You need to be careful.” Mr. Lancaster’s voice carried through the apartment. “You don’t want to be tied down to a wife or baby.”
“I
’m in medical school. I think I’m smart enough to figure out how that works.”
“You’re smart, good-looking, and you come from money.” Mrs. Lancaster’s tone became a whine. “You’re going to have gold-diggers after you.”
“Tell me about it.” Clearly, Mr. Lancaster’s dig had been intended for his wife.
“Don’t start with me,” she fired back. “Adam, we can’t support you as long as this girl is shacking up with you.”
“Really, Mother? After the example of fidelity you and Dad set, you’re going to lecture me on morality? I want nothing to do with marriage if it’s anything like what you two have.”
Sarah Beth’s stomach twisted. Nothing to do with marriage?
“Your mother’s right.” Mr. Lancaster’s voice grew cold. “You can pay your own bills until you receive your trust fund. A good dose of reality’s an excellent idea. Let’s go back to the hotel and leave Adam to figure out his new budget.”
The slamming door left a thundering silence in the small apartment. Her heart ached for Adam. His parents never had time for him—only their money and social life. She stood and came down from the loft to go to him. He looked like an orphaned little boy. In so many ways, he was and always had been.
~~~
The next morning, Adam left much earlier than usual. On the way home from work, Sarah Beth picked up his favorite Mexican takeout and taped a note on the box that read, Te quiero siempre, I love you always. She hadn’t called him or pressured him to talk about what had happened but waited up for him on the couch, struggling to concentrate on the work she’d brought home.
Her mouth fell open when he finally walked in. “Wow, you cut your hair.” She darted over and ran her fingers through the short strands. “You look so handsome. Not that I didn’t love it long before, but now you look...professional.”
“So you still dig me?”
She clamped her arms around him. “I still dig you. And I have your favorite takeout in the fridge.”
After pulling away, he flung himself across the couch. “I’m not very hungry. I ate at work.”
Leaving Oxford Page 6