Undercover in Copper Lake
Page 14
After a moment, Rae stepped back, breaking the hug. “Don’t think you’ve softened me up. Now we’re going to talk about the real reason I’m here. Why do I have to find out from Zelda at the grocery store that you were actually in Maggie’s house when it exploded?”
Sophy laughed, both surprised and relieved that Sean wasn’t reason enough to bring her mother into the store. He might not be Rae’s ideal choice for her younger daughter, but she wasn’t violently opposed to him, either. That was good.
“I won’t ask how Zelda at the store found out.” Though Copper Lake had grown into a small city, it hadn’t lost its very efficient grapevine. Gossip spread faster than soft butter on a hot biscuit. “I hadn’t figured out the best way to tell you,” she said, fingers crossed behind her back to make up for the lie. Truthfully, she hadn’t considered telling anyone. She’d been too busy recovering, dealing with the girls and being with Sean.
“How about picking up the phone and saying, ‘Hi, Mom, I just almost got blown up, but I’m all right’? You should have seen Zelda, gloating because she knew something about my own daughter that I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry. Really, I am.”
“Hush and just tell me now. All the details. Don’t leave a thing out.”
Sophy knew it was easier to answer her mother’s questions than put her off, so she quickly told the story she’d repeated to firemen and detectives the day before, in just as much detail.
When she was done, Rae hugged her, then held her at arm’s length, looking her up and down. “And you’re not hurt? Daisy’s okay? Sean’s all right?”
“We’re all fine.”
“Thank God. Heavens, I would have had a heart attack if I’d known... And you were so brave, rescuing Sean and Daisy like that.”
“Not brave, Mom. Just scared to death. And I don’t know that I could have gotten out without his help.”
Rae’s gesture was dismissive. “I know my little girl. You would have clawed your way through the wall if necessary. You’re a tough one.” A shudder rocketed through her. “I’d even hug the stuffing out of Daisy if she were here, and no matter how much she dislikes mushy stuff, she would just have to endure it.”
“I’d like to see that—”
Sean’s arrival interrupted Sophy’s answer. Both she and Rae swiveled toward the door, and Rae sighed. “Oh, my. It’s true—men improve with age. And when they’re already smokin’ hot to start...”
Sophy elbowed her gently. “You behave. Don’t embarrass or scare him.”
Upon recognizing her mother, Sean stopped just inside the door, still holding it open. He hesitated before slowly letting it go and starting toward them.
In a whisper, Rae said, “He gets points for not running out while he had the chance.”
Sophy elbowed her again, then smiled brightly. “Hey, Sean. Look who’s here.”
“Probably one of the last people you wanted to see on this visit.” Rae moved forward, her hand extended. “Look at you. You’re all grown up.”
Still a little uneasy, Sean shifted the bag he carried to his other hand and accepted her handshake. His gaze darted to Sophy, then he quietly, cautiously said, “Mrs. Marchand.” It was definitely not the greeting he expected from her. It was pretty surprising to Sophy, too, given the fact that he hadn’t been allowed in the house when he was dating Reba.
“Oh, you can call me Rae.”
Sophy rubbed her forehead. Yeah, that was likely to happen.
“You look just like those nieces of yours. Any chance you’ll be taking them when their mother goes to—” Rae stopped, not soon enough to please Sophy, and kindly said, “I guess you hope for the best and if it doesn’t happen, then you plan for the worst. Well, I should hustle. I’m meeting my girls at the country club, and today I’ve got the juiciest news, so I don’t want to be late.” She didn’t seem to notice that Sean had flushed deep crimson—just released him and stepped past. Abruptly, she backed up a few steps. “Make me a promise, Sean.”
Now he looked embarrassed and concerned. “What’s that?”
She stepped close, right up in his personal space, and said sternly, “Don’t take my daughter into any more exploding houses. And if you do get into something exciting or traumatic, make her call me right away.” She glanced back at Sophy. “Zelda at the grocery store, for heaven’s sake!”
Sean remained still and a bit flustered until Rae was gone. Finally he turned from the door and started toward Sophy.
“Welcome to Hurricane Rae. She’s all hot air but rarely does any damage.”
“Depends on how you define damage,” he muttered, “and how juicy her news is.”
The aromas of food reached Sophy first, radiating from the big brown bag he carried and making her stomach growl none too subtly. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the juicy news is me. You’ll be on the periphery with Daisy, but it’s primarily about my near-death experience yesterday. I’m sure in her version, my clothes will be scorched, my hair singed, my face smeared with soot, and I probably will have carried you and Sophy to safety over my shoulder.”
“Well, you do swing a mean vacuum.”
Watching his cautious expression shift to a grin and a devilish look appear in his eyes was fascinating. If she had a camera, she would record it so she could watch it again and again, but who needed a camera when the real man was right in front of her?
Her stomach growled again, drawing her from her study of him. “You want to eat here or upstairs?”
He shrugged, so she got her purse, locked up and turned over the out-to-lunch sign and led the way upstairs to the apartment. It was so quiet without the girls. Even when they were asleep, they gave off such an energetic vibe that it was impossible to forget they were there.
“Do you know this is the first time I’ve been up here without one or both of the girls since they came to stay with me?” she remarked. “Can you feel the difference?”
Sean gazed around and shrugged. “I can hear it. Even when they’re being quiet, they’re not.”
As he began unpacking the bag of food, she got glasses of ice and tea. The savory spices of Mexican food filled the air. Tia Maria’s, her favorite place. The only downside of takeout was no frozen margaritas—
Her nose twitched as a new aroma joined the others. Tequila. Turning, she watched as he uncapped a second plastic to-go cup. “You got them to sell you margaritas to go?”
“If you ask nicely, people will do most anything.”
“And these people whom you asked nicely were female, young and highly susceptible to dark eyes and a charming smile?”
He gifted her with said smile. “Actually, the one who agreed to let me have the drinks was about your mom’s age. Older women like to be charmed, too.”
Oh, she knew that. Her mother had been charmed enough that she was willing to give him her daughter.
They settled at the dining table with chips, salsa, margaritas and all the fixings for fajitas. Between bites, Sophy asked, “How did your meeting with Masiela go?”
He shrugged, muscles rippling. When Daisy or Dahlia shrugged in response to a question, she wanted to shake them and demand that they never do it again. When Sean did it, she wanted to rest her chin on her hand, stare googly-eyed and hope that he did it again.
“She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know,” he said. “And she wanted me to persuade Maggie that it would be in her best interests if she cooperates with her office.”
“Will you try?”
His long, slender fingers removed another tortilla from the foil wrapper, balancing it while he filled it with toppings. After wrapping it, he met her gaze. “Sometimes what looks like someone’s best interests isn’t.”
She understood that. When social services had taken her, Chloe and Oliver from their mother the last time, Miri had somehow persuaded them to let her stay at home. She’d just been a kid—ten years old—but she’d cared for their mother until her death eight years later. It had been a tough
life for her, but even now she was confident it had been the best choice, both for her and their mom. Few people had agreed; social services had come back repeatedly to take custody of her, but she’d kept their mom on the move, evading them until they lost interest in her.
She’d sacrificed a lot, but she’d given her siblings the comfort of knowing that their mother had been loved and protected until she died.
“You think it would be better for Maggie to go to prison for all those years?”
“I think if she doesn’t, she won’t survive.”
That was a grim thought. Of course, out-of-control drug addicts were less likely to see their next birthday. If she made a deal with the D.A. this time, the next time Sean came to Copper Lake could very well be to bury her. As scary as ten or more years in prison sounded—and it would scare the snot out of Sophy—it had the upside of that chance to survive.
She concentrated on her food, thinking how sad for Daisy and Dahlia and Sean, wondering if she had what it took to keep the girls that long. She was already more successful than the previous foster parents had been: they hadn’t escaped her, though they’d tried; they hadn’t torn up the house, started any fires, kicked, bitten or scratched her; they hadn’t thrown a single meal on the floor; they limited their tantrums; and they had pretty much given up their birth lesson about not talking to anyone outside the family.
Really, though, the question wasn’t whether Sophy could keep them that long.
It was whether she could give them up.
Giving them back to their mother was one thing. Turning them over to their uncle would be fantastic. But handing them off to strangers... It could be good or a disaster.
“I saw Mr. Obadiah today,” Sean said, his tone lighter, the worry lines etched in his face lessening.
A smile blossomed across Sophy’s face. “I adore him. How is he?”
“Still old, still patient, still wise. You know, he went through a lot, losing his wife, then his daughter, taking Ty to raise, along with all the other kids he helped out, me included. He had plenty of good reasons to be a bitter old man, but he’s not.”
“Oh, no. He’ll tell anyone, he’s a very happy old man. His faith is a large part of it. He fully believes that he’s going to be with Genevieve and their daughter and everyone else he’s ever loved again in Heaven. But it’s also from a lesson his grandmother taught him—that every day came with choices, and it was his job to make the best possible ones. If he made a bad one, the next day it was his job to fix it. If he made the best choices every day, no matter what the outcome, he had the satisfaction of knowing he’d done his best.”
She smiled ruefully as she wiped her fingers on a napkin, then pushed her plate aside. “I interviewed him for a project in high school, and that was just a small part of everything he told me. But I always thought it made sense and that it was something I wanted to teach my own children.”
Sean was leaning back in his chair, one arm hanging over the back, his free hand holding his drink cup. “You ever make bad choices, Sophy?”
She did her best patronizing smile and tossed her head. “Well, I am the princess of Copper Lake, you know.” Then, normally, “Of course I make bad choices.”
“Is this one of them?”
This. This relationship with him. This yearning for more. This being ready for more, no matter what the future held for them.
“No. It isn’t. I don’t regret any of the relationships I’ve had. I gained something from each one. They made me who I am today, just as this—” she deliberately used his own word “—will affect who I am next year. So will the girls. So will my family and friends. Like it or not, this will also affect who you are next year.”
He drew one fingertip around his cup, sending rivulets of condensation to drip on his hand. “Maggie hasn’t made a single good decision in her life. Not even—”
Sophy’s breath caught, but she waited for him to finish the sentence: not even having the girls. It would break her heart to hear it, though she’d heard it before from others. Though she’d been guilty of thinking it herself before she’d met Daisy and Dahlia.
His face turned bronze, and his gaze deliberately avoided hers. “Not even... Hell.” He couldn’t say it. Because it sounded heartless? Or because he didn’t believe it?
Restlessly getting to his feet, he cleared the table, found the trash can in the pantry, then came back for the dishes. “A lot of people think Daisy’s and Dahlia’s lives are terrible, that it was irresponsible and cruel of Maggie to even have them, but the girls don’t agree. They don’t wish they’d never existed. You and your sisters and brother, with all you went through, are happy to be here. I’m happy to be here. Nothing’s been done to them that they can’t overcome with time.”
“Or to you,” she murmured.
He turned from the sink, his features stark. Then slowly the half smirk came. “Yeah, I know. Being back here brings out the worst in me. I hated living here, and I blame myself for Maggie and for the kids, and for breaking my promise to send for her after I left, and for wanting her to go to prison so she can have at least a chance at kicking the drugs and being a decent mother.”
Pushing away from the table, Sophy went into the kitchen. She wanted to put her arms around him, to rest her cheek against him and hear his breathing, feel the play of muscle, but she leaned against the counter instead. “That’s because you’re a decent person. You want a better life for her. You want her to be a good mother and a good woman and a law-abiding citizen and to have friends and family and be happy, and you know she’s not going to get that hanging out with dopers and criminals and exposing herself and the kids to danger. But you can’t give her the better life, Sean. She’s got to earn it for herself. She’s got to want it for herself.” She paused before quietly adding the major obstacle to Maggie’s recovery. “She’s got to want it enough to give up the drugs.”
And they both knew how big a struggle that would be.
* * *
It was almost time for Sophy to reopen the shop, and there’d been no kissing, no picking up where they’d left off, yet. After eating, they’d settled on the couch and made conversation—easy, friendly but intimate, the sort of stuff Sean never engaged in. His attitude had always been that the more superficial his relationships with women, the better for him. He’d never shared secrets, fears, childhood memories or wanted to know anyone else’s.
Until now.
“I guess I should go downstairs,” Sophy said, but she made no move to get up.
“Yeah. I should go see Maggie.” He didn’t move, either. Correction: his move wasn’t to rise from the couch. He closed the distance between them, easily settling in beside her, and she wiggled into the corner enough so that she faced him. “I believe you said something about kissing when you asked me to lunch.”
“I did. I was afraid you’d forgotten.”
He snorted, wrapping a strand of her hair around his index finger. It was as soft and straight as Daisy’s and Dahlia’s, though the sunny golden shade was on the far side of the spectrum from their black. “Men never forget about anything that might lead to sex.”
“Neither do women,” she countered.
“You know the odds of me staying here are between slim and none.”
For a long time, their gazes locked, hers stark, his— He didn’t know what was in his besides desire. Need? Fear? After a few slow deep breaths, she nodded, her hair slipping from his fingers, then patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Sean. I’m not the clingy type. I don’t make demands. I don’t ignore warnings. I won’t break your heart.”
He’d never kidded himself. He’d always known his heart could be broken—his mother had been the first, Maggie the second. That was just one of the reasons he preferred hookups over relationships. He figured by the time things were settled here, there wouldn’t be anything left of him but a million pieces that he’d have to put back together somehow if he had a hope in hell of getting custody of Daisy and Dahlia.
He touched her hair again, sliding his fingers gently across it. “Don’t worry about my heart. Take care of your own.”
As light as a feather, she laid her palm against his jaw. “I do worry about you, Sean. I worry that you don’t see the good in yourself. I worry that you take on far too much responsibility for someone who says he doesn’t want any at all. I worry that you mistake safe choices for good ones.”
Safe choices. Yeah, that was what he’d been making all these years, and where had it gotten him? He couldn’t help but think that taking a few risks couldn’t have landed him in any more trouble than he was already in and might have been a hell of a lot more fun, too.
But he didn’t want to think about any of that. Time was limited, and he had a beautiful, sexy woman waiting to be kissed in a way he hadn’t kissed a woman in a long time. She smelled of tequila, Mexican food and something delicate and expensive, and her shoulders were slender beneath his hands as he leaned closer.
Her mouth met his, their noses bumping. He’d never given much thought to mouths before, but hers was made for kissing and seducing, her lips soft, pliable. When he slid his tongue inside, she tasted sweet and innocent and intoxicating. A man could spend a lot of time just kissing her, getting lost in her, appreciating her hunger, but they didn’t have a lot of time. Not now.
It took him a moment to separate the tugging on his shirt from the other feelings building inside him. She pulled it from his pants and slid her hands underneath, stroking restlessly over his middle, up to his chest. Her palms were small and hot, making his muscles tense, sending flames through him, stirring to life an erection that reached painful in intensity within the space of a breath.
In desperate need of air, he ended the kiss, then immediately left a trail of them along her jaw, down her throat, until the fabric of her blouse blocked his way. He undid the first button, the second, the next, revealing creamy golden skin and a pale green bra. Her breasts weren’t large, but the curves were perfect, the skin tantalizingly soft, her nipples peaked against the silky garment.