In midthought—practically in midword―Amy was forced to spin around on her heel and race to the bathroom. She only had enough time to slam the door behind her.
Somehow, she managed to turn the faucet on in a feeble attempt to mask the sounds she knew were coming.
The sound of her stomach forcing itself up through her throat and mouth.
Amy didn’t even remember falling to her knees—the only thing that registered was the pain that reverberated through them as they came in abrupt contact with the hard, ice-blue tile on the floor surrounding the toilet bowl.
After that, she was too busy retching her insides out to notice anything at all.
Including the bathroom door opening again.
CHAPTER TEN
AS THE NAUSEA finally receded, leaving her feeling barely human, Amy sighed with tentative relief. At this point, she was painfully aware that the respite she was experiencing was temporary. She’d be in this exact position again and, most likely, soon.
Were the entire nine months going to be like this? She’d been pregnant for three months and throwing up practically from the very beginning. At the present rate, she certainly wasn’t gaining any weight. In fact, Amy thought she might have actually lost a little.
On the bright side, at least no one would know about this baby until she was ready to tell them.
She realized there was perspiration on her brow, gluing her bangs to her forehead. Eyes closed in abject misery, Amy began to wipe the sweat away with the back of her wrist.
Suddenly, she felt a towel against her cheek. Her eyes flew open and she jumped, stifling a yelp.
“It’s just me.”
Devlin.
Who else?
Grudgingly taking the towel from him, Amy wiped not just her brow but her face, as well. “How long have you been standing there?” she wanted to know.
“Long enough.”
His tone gave nothing away. It didn’t have to. Amy was on the defensive immediately.
Devlin put his hand under her arm, trying to help her to her feet. Amy desperately wanted to wave him away, but at the moment, she was so worn out by her latest bout of throwing up, she didn’t have the energy to get up without some sort of aid. After a second’s hesitation, she let him help her up.
Devlin gently guided her to the other room. He waited until she was sitting on the bed before he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Amy wouldn’t meet his eye. “Tell you what?”
They were playing games now, he thought. But given the situation, he let her a little leeway. “That you were pregnant.”
Tension that had been teetering on the perimeter of her consciousness now charged through her like a race car in the Indianapolis 500. This was not the way she wanted Devlin to find out.
Actually, she didn’t want him to find out. She wanted to tell him after the fact, after the baby had been born and was a living, breathing little person. She’d feel less vulnerable then.
The lie came to her lips like a reflex. “I’m not pregnant,” she said defiantly.
“I’m a man, Amy, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely stupid.” Devlin stood looking down at her for several moments, his arms crossed before his chest. “One of the things I really liked about you when we first met—you had a lot going for you, but this was something that really set you apart for me—was that you didn’t lie. Were pretty much incapable of it, actually,” he said. “The few times you even attempted to form some sort of little white lie, I would always know.” He smiled at her the way an indulgent parent might at a child who had accidentally messed up.
“Oh, because you’re so good at seeing through people,” she retorted sarcastically.
“No,” he said patiently, “because you have a tell.” He saw her eyes widen. “When you lie, you squint your right eye just a little, as if you can’t bear to look at the lie.” The smile faded. He became serious. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he repeated.
There was no use even trying to deny it anymore, so she didn’t. Instead, she shrugged, looking away again. “You didn’t have a need to know.”
“No need to know?” he echoed. “It’s my baby.”
“How do you know?” She raised her chin, the way she did just before getting into a fight with him. “Maybe it’s not.”
She started to rise. Devlin put his hands gently but firmly on her shoulders and kept her where she was. He looked at her for a long moment. The silence stretched out for almost a minute.
“Yes, it is,” he said quietly.
Amy wasn’t about to give up. She realized that she loved him, would never love anyone as much as she loved Devlin, but she didn’t want him in her life out of some sense of obligation. She’d rather go it alone than have him that way.
“Are you so sure of that?” she challenged. “How do you know I didn’t fool around with someone else? We weren’t together for three months.”
“Two months and twenty-nine days,” he corrected quietly, then said, “Because I know you and I trust you. It’s not in your nature to start an affair with someone until we were actually divorced. We weren’t, which means that’s our child growing inside of you.” He smiled. “I guess the reconciliation attempt took better than I’d thought.”
Amy sighed, feeling suddenly hemmed in and hopeless. This wasn’t the way she wanted to remain married. “So now what?”
“That,” he told her quietly, “is entirely up to you.” She looked at him in surprise. “I know what I want to happen. I want us to pick up where we left off—without the baseless jealousy,” he emphasized. “And go from there.” He inclined his head. “But it’s not up to me.”
Devlin looked at her for a long, long moment. A dozen thoughts and memories collided in his head. “You’re the one holding all the cards, Amy, so the next play is yours. But you need to understand one thing.”
She hadn’t taken her eyes off him since Devlin had begun talking. “And that is?” Amy asked in a low voice.
His eyes held hers intensely, attempting to communicate with her soul. He needed her to believe him, once and for all. “All the accusations you’ve thrown at me are baseless. I never once cheated on you.”
“Never once,” Amy echoed, following the words up with a dismissive laugh.
“Never once,” he repeated firmly. “I can’t control what you think, Amy, just like I can’t control what another woman is capable of doing. If she wants to throw herself at me, I can’t stop her. The only thing I can control,” he said, “is how I react to that. And it’s always the same.”
“Really?” she asked, silently imploring him to convince her, really convince her once and for all.
He pushed on, determined to get through to her for all their sakes. Because it wasn’t just about her, or him, anymore. There was now a third person to consider, a third person who was going to need both of them.
“Really,” he replied, his tone dead serious. “And you want to know why?”
Underneath her swagger and dismissive expression, Amy wanted, more than anything, to shed the oppressive insecurity that weighed her down. That very nearly ruined what they had.
“Go ahead.”
“Because,” he told her, his words slow and deliberate, “since the day I said, ‘I do,’ I had a wife to come home to, a wife I loved more than anything or anyone. Why would I even think of risking that for what amounts to a quick thrill at best, a disappointing experience at worst? You know me to be a reasonably intelligent man, Ames. Does that sound like something I would even remotely contemplate doing?”
When Amy didn’t answer him, he pressed on. “Does it? Look into your heart and then tell me.”
An exasperated sigh preceded her answer. She looked down at the floor. “No.”
Very gently, he raised her to her feet and to
ok her into his arms. “Then why don’t you stop seeing infidelities under every rock, hiding in every shadow, and tear up the divorce papers? I just want to spend the rest of my life with you and little who’s-it-what’s-it.” He drew Amy even closer. “I don’t know why you’re so insecure, anyway,” he told her honestly. “You’re always the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“No, I’m not,” she contradicted. She had never had an inflated sense of self, and vanity had never been her problem.
Devlin’s green eyes never left hers. “You are to me,” he told her with finality. “And that’s all that really counts.”
But when he went to kiss her, Amy put her hand up between them. She saw his eyebrows rise in a weary question.
Before he could ask her what was wrong now, she said, “Let me at least brush my teeth first.”
Devlin stepped back. He did it mainly because he wanted her to be comfortable. “I’ve waited this long, I can wait a couple of minutes longer. But just for the record, it doesn’t make a difference to me.” He followed her back to the bathroom. “This comes under that heading about loving you ‘for better or for worse.’ And all things considered, bad breath is really small potatoes.”
Amy paused, toothbrush in one hand, tube of toothpaste in the other. “And you seriously have never, even once thought about or been tempted to cheat on me?” She turned to look at him as she quickly brushed her teeth.
“I’ve thought about strangling you when you’ve pushed me to the end of my patience,” he freely admitted. “But cheat on you? No.”
She rinsed and turned to face Devlin, the tiled sink counter at her back. “Works for me,” she told him.
“Then you’ll tear up the papers you signed?” Devlin asked.
“I never really signed them,” she admitted. “I just told you I did.”
“On the phone,” he recalled, taking her back into his arms again. “Which is why I didn’t know you were lying to me.”
“I’m going to have to work on that tell,” she told him.
“I’ve got something better for you to work on,” Devlin countered just before he brought his mouth down on hers.
“Gladly,” she murmured.
He really liked the sound of that.
EPILOGUE
THE NEXT DAY, Nick and Cara’s wedding went off without a single incident to mar it.
To everyone’s surprise, Cara’s parents were civil to each other and genuinely moved watching their daughter getting married to a man who obviously adored her. The flower girls actually distributed the petals in their baskets fairly evenly and had a few left to toss down at the altar, while the five-year-old ring-bearer made it up to the altar without dropping the rings even once.
It was as perfect a ceremony as any of the guests could remember—but Devlin and Amy hardly noticed. They hardly noticed anything outside the small circle that they formed around themselves. A circle created out of second chances and making the most of them. And a renewed love that was stronger than ever.
At the reception, when it came time for the best man to make the toast, Devlin rose to his feet holding his glass of champagne in one hand as his other dipped into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve the speech he’s written late last night. His fingers came in contact with the silk lining and nothing more.
With an apologetic grin, he told those seated in the room, “I seem to have left my speech in my other jacket.” The comment received a smattering of polite laughter. “No, really,” he said. “I really did forget it.” Taking a breath, he went on, “So I guess I’ll have to wing it.” He looked at the newlyweds for a moment, reflecting. “I won’t bore you with little personal stories about how right these two are for each other—you just have to look at them to see that. And I won’t tell you how hard Nick had to work to get Cara to see that they belonged together. The point is, they are, he did, she did and here they are―married and very much in love.”
He raised his glass as he looked at the couple. “May you always love each other as much as you do right now and may you always remember exactly how you felt at this moment. And, if I can interject one personal note into this,” he said, glancing at his wife, “may you be as happy as Amy and I are right now.”
With that, he took a sip of his champagne and everyone else followed suit with their own glasses of champagne.
Except for Amy—who was sipping ginger ale.
As Devlin sat down again, the guests began to tap their silverware against their glasses, signaling their desire to see the bride and groom kiss. Nick and Cara happily obliged.
But they weren’t the only ones. Just as they weren’t the only ones beginning a brand-new life together. Except that in Devlin and Amy’s case, it was their second time. But the second time, Devlin silently promised Amy as he kissed her, was the charm. They were both committed to that—and each other.
* * * * *
Hawaiian Retreat
Leanne Banks
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER ONE
“YOU ARE TRULY insane,” Gabi Foster’s friend Helen said as they drove to Chicago O’Hare. “Not just insane. A raving lunatic.”
Gabi glanced up from the text she was sending to a client. She’d been friends with Helen for many years, and each of them could call each other for just about anything. “I really appreciate your driving me to the airport, especially in this weather,” Gabi said as she looked at the falling snow. “I know you think that anyone in their right mind would be happy to trade the frozen tundra of Chicago for Hawaii for a few days, but this is a very critical time for me at work. It’s hard having my father for a boss, and I think he’s finally starting to see me as a valuable employee instead of just one of the marketing representatives. He has given me some extra opportunities lately. He’s let me take the lead on a few things.” Gabi knew she was in a unique position since her father was the CEO of the company. The fact that she worked with one of their major accounts, and that major account wanted the organic cosmetics line her father hadn’t approved yet, put her future in a trajectory for either success or failure. Gabi was banking on success. “There’s a promotion in my near future. I can smell it, taste it—”
“You should be concentrating on smelling Hawaiian flowers and tasting mai tais,” Helen said. “Do you know how much every person in Chicago would like to trade places with you right now?”
Gabi sighed, wishing she didn’t feel so conflicted about attending her half brother’s wedding. Nick was the product of her mother’s first marriage. “I do, but it’s an interruption. You know how much I love Nick, but the timing is difficult for me. Plus, I still love Nick’s first wife, Megan. She’s perfect. How could they divorce? Even though they’ve been split up for years, I still don’t understand it.”
“Didn’t you tell me they have the friendliest divorce ever?” Helen asked as she pulled up to the airport terminal.
“Yes, but I’m still team Megan,” Gabi said, even though she knew she sounded ridiculous. That was one of the great things about having a longtime friend like Helen. Gabi could say anything to her. Helen might correct her or even mock her, but Helen would always have her back.
“Even though Megan doesn’t want to be married to Nick, either,” Helen said.
“Sometimes I think all they need is to come to their senses,” Gabi said. “They just seemed so perfect for each other.”
Helen shot her a sideways glance. “I hope you’re not planning on cooking up anything that would mess up your brother’s marriage. You wouldn’t try to get Nick back with his ex during a wedding celebration, would you?”
Gabi rolled her eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t. I’m not that crazy. I’m just not completely sure about his fiancée, Cara. She seems nice, but what if she’s not good with his twins?”
“Do you really think Nick would choose someone who wasn’t going to be nice to his daughters?” Helen asked.
Gabi sighed again. “You’re right. The truth is, I need to be more supportive about him getting married. I want him to be happy, and he believes this will make him happy.”
“Now, you’re sounding like the Gabi I’ve known since sixth grade,” Helen said. “Not some crazy, overworked woman who has lost all perspective about what’s important.”
Gabi smiled at Helen and her friend’s burgeoning baby bump. “Ever since you and Frank got married, you’ve really softened up. I remember hearing you talk about your court cases with blood nearly dripping from your incisors.”
“Real love will do that to you,” Helen said.
Gabi felt a stab of melancholy at her friend’s happiness. She was thrilled for Helen, but sometimes her practically perfect family life made Gabi think about what she was missing. Gabi slammed the door shut on those thoughts. That was all the more reason she should focus on her career. She’d given love more than one try and failed every time.
“Maybe for someone else, but not for me,” Gabi muttered as Helen approached the drop-off.
“Just because things didn’t work out for you with Bill doesn’t mean love has passed you by.”
Gabi made a face. That was one more reason she wasn’t thrilled about attending this wedding. Her brother’s friend Bill Kenyon had dumped Gabi last year, and Bill would be attending the destination wedding with his new, very pregnant wife. Gabi knew her ego was smarting more than anything, but that would be another unpleasant jab. At least she had a friend, Steven Jackson, flying out to accompany her for part of the celebration.
“You never know,” Helen continued. “Love could be right around the corner.”
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