She stared at the coffee cup left steaming and untouched on the booth’s table. That was the only record, the only tangible sign, of what had just happened. All traces of that gut-wrenching reunion absorbed into the tattered, brown booths and the countertops stained with coffee rings. The waitress and a busboy chatted next to a pile of half empty ketchup bottles oblivious that a life had just changed course ten feet away from them.
Lindsey opened the car door, and Nick followed behind her. The SUV’s lights reflected against the diner’s windows as Nick set the car alarm, the sudden double chirp calling out into the night air. She startled, and Nick pressed his hand to her back.
“Let me get that,” he said, holding open the door to the diner.
The waitress perked up. “Need a menu, folks?”
“No, we’re just here to make a call,” Lindsey answered.
“Pay phone’s down the hall by the restrooms,” she answered, not even giving them a second glance.
The diner was empty of patrons, and the click of their footfalls echoed off the linoleum tiles. Lindsey led Nick toward the pay phone where the only working fluorescent light buzzed and cracked, bathing the narrow hallway in an unearthly shade of white.
Lindsey patted her pockets. “I forgot—”
He handed her the half roll of quarters.
“Thank you, Nick. Thank you for letting me do this my way.”
He nodded and rested his hand on her shoulder, fingering the collar of the old flannel, his old flannel. She was wrapped in his protection. The old shirt might as well have been a bulletproof vest. She lifted the receiver. Last time she had held it, she was a frightened woman on the run.
Not anymore.
With Nick by her side, she was safe. She deposited the coins and dialed Claire’s cell phone number. It didn’t even ring. A loud prerecorded message spilled out of the earpiece.
The number you dialed is not a working number…
“Could you have misremembered the number?” Nick asked. The recording was loud enough for him to have heard it.
She reached into her pocket and retrieved a scrap of paper with Claire’s number. She dialed again and received the same ominously cheery recording.
“It’s not working. Do you think I should call her office? I know she has an answering service.” Lindsey tapped the receiver against the wall. “I just can’t figure out why she would go to all the trouble to try and contact me and then change her number?”
“Maybe she moved to a different medical practice and had to return the phone when she left. Maybe she was getting a bunch of telemarketers calling,” Nick said, rubbing his hand down the dark blond scruff on his chin.
“Maybe,” she echoed.
“And she just might want to make sure you’re okay. I know if I were in her situation, I’d want to know my friend was all right.”
Lindsey hooked the receiver back into the cradle.
“It’s late, Linds. Tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “More like today, we’ve got the Rose Brooks fundraiser and then a houseful of people to prepare for.”
She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Do you think we should be worried? Do you think Claire was trying to tell me something or warn me? Do you think she’s all right?”
“I don’t know why she tried to contact you.” Nick dropped his chin to rest on the top of her head. “But you’re safe, Lindsey.”
Brett didn’t know anything about Langley Park. Nothing in her past could lead him here. That she knew for sure. She tilted her head and met his gaze. He smoothed back her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead. This man would move mountains to protect her and the baby.
Lindsey glanced at the pay phone. “Let’s go home.”
“You said it would be faster if we showered together,” Lindsey gasped as warm streams of water cascaded down her naked body.
Nick kissed her neck and thrust his cock inside of her. “Did I say that?” He braced one hand against the shower while using the other to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. “I’m man enough to fess up to being wrong.”
Lindsey closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against the cool tiles of the shower wall. “If this is wrong, I want you to be wrong every single morning.”
Nick worked her body, rubbing slow, delicious circles over her clit as his cock filled her completely. The warm water and Nick’s body pumping into her drove her over the edge. Her body tightened, a coil ready to spring open. One last thrust and she was soaring, her body singing, riding out her orgasm. Nick growled in her ear, called out her name, and filled her to the hilt.
He rested his head against the wall. “I think this is how we should start every morning,” he said, running his hand up the side of her body. “The planes can figure out how to take-off and land without me. I’m just a figurehead, really.”
She released a sated sigh. “We should probably get out, shouldn’t we?”
He pressed a wet kiss to her temple. “We probably should. It won’t take me long to get ready. I can start breakfast.”
She turned to face him. Water beaded on his chest. She licked her lips and traced a droplet from his abdomen to his cock. “I think I’m hungry for more of something else.”
He threw his head back and laughed. His eyes were warm and hooded.
She smiled up at him. “Pregnancy hormones are pretty great, huh?”
“The best,” he said, stepping out of the shower and toweling off.
Lindsey turned off the spray of water, and Nick handed her a towel.
“Busy day?” she asked.
“Yeah, but I’ve got it in my calendar to leave early to pick you up before the fundraiser.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest. “I can’t wait to unveil the photographs. The work is truly stunning.”
The photography participants had risen to the challenge and had captured moving, emotive shots she was sure were going to impress everyone tonight. They had created a breathtaking wall of images pieced together in the shape of the Rose Brooks house. And in the center was her shot of the women’s hands serving as a visual symbol of strength and resiliency.
“They had an amazing teacher,” Nick said, buttoning his dress shirt.
She stared at him. He was fully dressed and looked good enough to eat. “How do you do it?”
He shook his head. “Eggs and toast sound good?”
“Can you mix some olives and raisins into the eggs?”
He grimaced. “I think you’ve just outdone Em on the craziest pregnancy craving.”
Lindsey dressed and dried her hair, smiling as she listened to the clang of pots and pans and the tap of cupboard doors opening and closing as Nick prepared breakfast. She was coming down the stairs when someone knocked on the front door.
She looked through the peephole and found her godmother standing on her porch.
“Good morning, Rosemary,” she said and welcomed the woman inside.
“Oh, look at you,” her godmother replied, pressing a hand to her belly. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.”
Nick craned his head and looked out from the kitchen. “Morning, Mrs. G. Would you like some breakfast?”
“No, no, I’m due in at the office. I just wanted to drop something off before the fundraiser. I thought you might want to wear this tonight.”
She opened a small box containing a delicate sunflower hairpin. She touched the warm tangerine colored petals. “I believe these are topaz, and this little spray of leaves looks to me like peridot sprinkled in with tiny diamonds.”
The gemstones twinkled in the morning light.
“It’s exquisite,” Lindsey said. “I’d be honored to wear it.”
“I was hoping you’d say that. Your mother gave it to me many years ago. And now, I’d like to give it to you, dear.”
Nick joined them in the foyer. “That’s a beautiful sunflower pin.”
“My mother gave it to Rosemary, and now she’s giving it to me,” L
indsey said with tears in her eyes.
Rosemary brushed at her cheeks. “It’s far too early for crying. I know it’s going to be a busy day and then an exciting night at the fundraiser. I wanted to give this to you and let you know how proud I am of you, sweetheart.”
Lindsey hugged her godmother. Rosemary was a slight woman, barely five feet tall, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in heart. Lindsey softened into the embrace, allowing her godmother to wrap her slight arm around her.
Rosemary patted her back. “Your mother would be so proud of you. I wanted you to have a little piece of her with you tonight.”
Lindsey straightened and ran her fingertips along the beautiful golden petals. “Thank you for everything.”
She pulled her hair into a high ponytail and twisted the strands into a loose bun. She dipped her head, and Rosemary slid the pin into place.
Her godmother stepped back and nodded. “I’ll see you both tonight,” she added through a teary gaze.
They waved goodbye, and Nick wrapped his arm around her waist as Rosemary’s car set off down Foxglove Lane. It was almost mid-May, and the gardenias growing nearby added a floral note to the morning breeze while robins and sparrows chirped and busied themselves in the oaks and maples lining the street.
Nick stepped back and eyed the pin. “It reminds me of when you used to wear the flowers I’d leave tucked into the cabin’s window.”
She touched the pin. “I loved that you did that.”
He tilted her chin up and pressed a whisper-soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love you.” Then he knelt down and pressed a kiss to her belly. “I love you, too, little banana.”
“Nick,” Lindsey said on an intake of breath. “There she is.” She took his hand and pressed it to the side of her protruding belly.
He hadn’t felt the baby kick yet. His gaze shot up to hers and then back to her belly. “Hello there, little banana,” he cooed. “It’s…”
He looked up, and Lindsey nodded.
“I’m going to be your dad,” he said in a tight whisper. “I love you so much.”
Lindsey rested her hand on top of Nick’s. He met her gaze with tears in his eyes. She ran her hand through his blond curls as the baby’s kicks melted into smooth, motionless skin. “I think that’s all she’s got for us right now.”
He nodded and came to his feet. “I love you.” His eyes were glassy with emotion, but his gaze was laser sharp and filled with conviction.
She smiled through more happy tears. “You better get a move on. You’re going to be so late.”
He glanced at his watch. “There’s a plate of eggs with raisins and olives on the table.”
She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. “I love you.”
He grabbed his satchel from the foyer closet and gave her a wink. “Just the beginning,” he said with a grin and headed out the door.
Lindsey rolled up the long sleeves of Nick’s old flannel and plucked a photograph from the pile of images spread out over the kitchen table. The Rose Brooks photography participants had taken thousands of pictures. They had worked as a team to decide on the photographs for the main display, but there were so many awe-inspiring images, Lindsey knew she had to find a way to incorporate them into the fundraiser.
After Nick left for the airport, she went to the arts and crafts store. Glass vases now lined the countertop with sprays of long, decorative twigs, each with several photographs hanging by a colorful string. She secured the last picture when someone knocked on the door. She stepped back and assessed her work. The knock came again.
“It’s open, Terry,” she called out. He had called an hour ago to let her know he was running a little late. She glanced up at the clock. It was almost half past three.
The door opened and closed.
“I’m back in the kitchen working,” she said, lining up the vases. “Thanks for coming over to install that last shutter.”
She crossed her arms and checked each centerpiece then arranged a few twigs, so each picture hung smoothly from its wiry branch.
“Terry, is that you?”
The air stilled. Lindsey bristled, and a slow chill worked its way down her spine.
Terry wasn’t in her house.
23
Booted footfalls echoed through the Foursquare, and the breath caught in Lindsey’s throat. The scent of dried blood—her blood—invaded her nostrils. She wasn’t in Langley Park anymore. She was in Brett’s house, sprawled on the Italian marble floor, lip split, cheek throbbing, rib cage aching with every intake of breath.
“No,” she gasped. “I’m in my home in Langley Park.”
She gripped the counter and forced air into her lungs. Her gaze danced between the glass vases and the knife block—anything she could use to defend herself.
The footsteps stopped. He was in the kitchen.
She didn’t look up. “How did you find me?”
“Find you,” he said, taking a step closer. “I didn’t have to find you. You told me all about this place.”
She raised her head and met his gaze.
His face was blank and void of emotion, but those whiskey eyes watched her with a surgeon’s steady focus. He smiled at her, an icy crack of the lips. “That’s the beautiful thing about narcotic pain medications. They make many patients quite talkative.”
“I don’t understand. I’ve never taken narcotics,” Lindsey answered.
The kitchen island stood between them, providing a physical barrier and hiding her protruding abdomen. She edged toward the block of knives.
“But you have,” Brett answered. He took another step into the kitchen. “The week after your mother died, or should I say, the week after I flew to Maine and mowed her down on her morning run.”
“You’re lying,” she said, voice quivering.
“I don’t need to lie, Lindsey. I get everything I want. I don’t let anything stand in my way. I thought you understood that.” Brett put his hands on his hips, revealing the outline of a concealed carry holster and in it, a gun. “Do you remember what I said I’d do if you ever tried to leave me?”
She bit her lip. She didn’t want him to see it tremble.
“I’ll remind you. I told you, I’d hunt you down and that I’d kill anyone who got in my way.” He plucked a banana out of the fruit bowl and peeled it slowly. “I read the emails between you and your mother. I knew she didn’t want you to stay in Texas. I knew she was urging you to leave me and move on to your next job. She posed a genuine threat to us, and I needed to respond accordingly.”
“No, no! The police never solved the case. You’re just trying to frighten me.”
He chuckled. “Of course, they didn’t solve it. It was a tiny, one-stoplight town. They had no resources to launch a full investigation.”
Lindsey shook her head.
“Don’t you remember, I had just returned from a medical conference when you got the call.” Brett took a bite of the banana and chewed it methodically. “Such a shame. If she hadn’t tried to separate us, she might be alive right now.”
The room spun. He wasn’t lying. It had happened just like that.
“That week, I kept you in an opioid haze, and you talked all about Langley Park, Kansas, and your beloved, Rosemary Giacopazzi.”
Her eyes went wide. “Did you hurt her?”
“No,” he said and swallowed another bite. “I needed her to lead me to you. And that’s exactly what she did this morning.” Brett set the banana peel on the counter. “But you’ve been a busy little whore haven’t you. You’ve already shacked up with your pilot, Nick.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lindsey said, gaze locked on the floor.
Brett barked out a laugh. “You know, I met him. We flew into his airport. You talked all about him, too. If we had more time, my love, I would put a bullet between his eyes and make you watch. He tried to take what’s mine, and there’s a price to pay for that. But, unfortunately, some business dealings have run a
stray, and I’ve had to make alternate plans. We’re going to take a drive. I think you’ll be happily surprised where we end up. Remember Camp Clemens? I own it. We’re going to pick up a few things and then we’re leaving the country.”
“No,” she whispered.
“No?” he echoed with a harsh, mocking edge. This was the shift. The moment when he’d change from a coolheaded physician to a brutal batterer. “I don’t think you understand. You don’t have a say. You belong to me.”
Lindsey lunged toward the block of knives. Her fingertips grazed the end of the paring knife, but before she was able to pull it from the block, Brett knocked her hand away. She fell back onto the kitchen table and caught herself between two chairs. Brett grabbed her arm, swung her around, and slammed her back into the refrigerator. She raised her hands to protect her face, but the blow didn’t come.
He stared at something past her shoulder.
The ultrasound image was hanging from a magnet.
His gaze flicked to her abdomen. The countertop and oversized flannel had hidden her belly until now. He plucked the picture off the refrigerator door and studied it. Then he wrapped his hand around her neck and forced her to meet his gaze. “You’re carrying my child.”
The fury in his eyes dialed up a notch as she struggled for breath. “So, this is why Claire begged me not to come for you. She knew you were pregnant. You confided in her, didn’t you?”
Lindsey couldn’t answer. The little air Brett allowed into her trachea was barely enough to keep her conscious. She closed her eyes. When he was this far gone, when the measured doctor had vanished entirely from his persona, there was no reasoning with him. His breath was hot against her ear. “You are going to pay for this betrayal.”
A knock came from the door. “Lindsey, it’s Terry.”
Brett loosened his grip. He wasn’t all cool and collected now. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his watch. “Dammit! Get rid of whoever’s at the door. If you do anything to let them know I’m here, I will kill that person. I will kill him right in front of you, and it will be your fault just like your mother’s death. Do you want that?”
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 73