“Want to go up there?”
Lacy tensed noticeably, her body contracting inward. “Uh, maybe after this?” She lifted the half-full mug of beer.
“Okay.” Since it was his idea to come and he’d accepted her challenge back on the street, he’d do the decent thing. “I’ll go first.”
She did a double take, watching him like he’d just turned into an alien from the planet of Are You Kidding? In full bravado, because what else did he have as a mediocre-at-best singer, he made his way to the stage. Utilizing his stock overconfident face, the kind he used to make as a kid in answer to any dare—and still used when making a high bid on a job—he sought out Lacy’s gaze. She was laughing. Good. She needed to lighten up tonight. If he had to make a fool of himself to get her to do it, he’d be glad to take the hit. Besides, Lacy was the only person in the room he knew. He hoped so, anyway. The place was a dark and typical bar, so who knew for sure.
He stopped the screen at “Private Eyes,” a Hall & Oates classic from the early 80s that was still evidently a hit here in karaoke land. He started singing the well-known song, feeling far less confident than he portrayed. But by the time the chorus came around, he sang in full voice. It helped that half the group in the lounge sang along.
The second time the chorus came around, he looked straight at Lacy, who appeared to be either horrified or rapt, he wasn’t sure thanks to the poor lighting. He kept singing anyway and switched up the words just a bit. “I need to know.” The whole point of the song was a guy trying to figure out if a woman was letting him in or cutting him loose. Zack could totally relate with Lacy. He needed to know. When it circled back to the bridge, he got bold and used the old two finger point to the eyes, then turned it toward Lacy to be conspicuous. I’m watching you.
He knew he was not a great singer, but evidently he was good enough not to get booed off the stage. Amped up from taking the risk and not falling flat on his face—and maybe the mild applause had a little to do with it—he waved Lacy up. At first, she hesitated, but being a good sport, she soon stood, quickly downing the last of her beer and made her way to the stage.
He chose something that had been around forever and that everyone on the planet should know, just in case she wasn’t a follower of current popular songs.
“Come on,” he said as she drew closer. “We can do this one together.”
She glanced at the screen, studied it for two seconds as her eyes widened, then gave a nod. And they were good to go singing Elton John’s famous duet with Kiki Dee.
“Don’t go breaking my heart,” Zack led off.
Lacy followed, enthusiastically swearing she couldn’t even if she really tried. Not bad for a karaoke novice.
Soon they were both into the easy song, and most of the crowd was singing along with them, which made their occasional goofs easy to cover. The most important thing was Lacy was smiling and giving her all. She seemed to be having a great time, too. That was the girl he’d missed lately.
As they left the stage when the song was over, one guy, obviously under the influence, couldn’t hold his tongue. “You guys sucked.” He cupped hands around his mouth. “Boo.”
The candid comment cracked them up and they laughed all the way back to their table.
“Did he think we didn’t know that?” she said, still laughing.
“I don’t know, Kiki, you sounded pretty good. Mind if I call you that?”
“I kind of like the ring of it,” she teased back. “But, uh, yes! I do mind.”
They sat in time to hear “Love Shack” sung by another so-so singer, a stocky woman with wild greying hair, in a bright Hawaiian shirt, looking like a leftover flower child. But the song was so much fun, the entire room chimed in, especially at the refrain. Who said the over-and well-over-forty crowd didn’t know how to rock out?
Coming here tonight was the smartest decision Zack had made since hiring Lacy and asking her out. As time went on, and more beer was served, the mood and music shifted. The DJ started playing Michael Bublé songs. There was a small dance floor off to the side, and Zack offered his hand, then led Lacy out to dance. She came willingly, and it felt great to hold her in his arms, and when the refrain came around again, he sang it with conviction, especially the I love you part. And she sure looked great just the way she was, too.
Her gaze met his and the familiar internal thrumming started. She sent the best, though subtle, messages with those baby blues, and he gobbled this one up. Kiss me was his interpretation, so he did. Long enough for the music to end and the lights to come up before he stopped.
* * *
Once they’d returned to his house, Lacy had climbed back into protective mode. What was going on?
Had he come on too strong? Dumb choice of song to dance to. He knew it! Was she having second thoughts about getting more involved with him? With him and his daughter? Maybe it was the package deal that bothered her. Though nothing had changed on that front, and it had never seemed to bother her before tonight. It was probably just him. Maybe the same thing Mona had gotten tired of. Him.
There had been one solid takeaway from his marriage breakup, though. Where he’d settled for the lack of communication with Mona, he swore it’d never happen again.
“Is everything all right?” he asked finally, while they sat on his couch and shared some wine. A guy could only guess unless he asked.
“Yes.” Not the least bit convincing.
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I don’t believe you,” he said, over her hair, not looking into her face, giving her the opportunity to tell him what was up without being stared at. The way guys liked to talk about their problems.
“I’ve been preoccupied with some leftover business with my father’s estate. And my mother.”
“You mentioned she died when you were ten?”
“Yes, and the paperwork from my father involves her, too.”
“Do you need a lawyer? I know a great one who happens to be our mayor.”
“You know Joe Aguirre?”
“Long, long time. He helped with my divorce, too.”
“Hmm. Well, that’s nice to know, but I don’t need a lawyer, I don’t think. Yet.” She seemed tentative at best.
His hand skimmed her back and he longed to pull her closer but, sensing she’d resist, he held back. “You want to talk about it?”
She glanced up, placed her cool hand on his cheek. “Not really.” Then, proving him wrong about resisting, she kissed him, and they dropped the subject like a superbad idea. Soon, as always, they both got lost in all things physical between Zack and Lacy.
Both with and without clothes.
In no time at all, he introduced her to his California king-size bed with the new and fresh sheets, the same bed that had felt too big for one person for the last couple of years. There, she seemed to forget all the worries that had her withdrawing from him during dinner and after karaoke. Just like hitting the singing bar, changing the scenery, moving to his room, turned out to be a great idea.
Holding her, making love to her, feeling her come apart at his touch, made him surer than ever he’d found the right person. Something he’d never expected to happen after his divorce.
He didn’t want to scare her off by coming on too strong too soon with words she might not be ready to hear—like the mistake he’d made dancing with her to “The Way You Look Tonight”—so instead he did everything in his power to blow her mind another way. Not telling but showing her how he felt. In bed.
Hours later, sated, bodies entwined, minds sufficiently blown, they’d dozed together until Lacy pulled away from Zack. He lifted his head as she disengaged and sat on the edge of his bed, then looked back at him. Moonlight through the gaping bedroom curtains dappled her expression, making it hard to read.
“I think I better leave.”
He sat bolt upright. This was
n’t part of the plan. He’d even bought eggs, fresh vanilla nut coffee and English muffins to make her breakfast. “Why? Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. I’m just not ready to spend the night.”
“With me?” His chest muscles tensed with her silence.
“I guess. Not yet, anyway.”
“We’ve done everything else, why not sleep with me?”
Last Wednesday, he had been the one who’d hesitated, now it was her turn. He reached out and pulled her close. “Have I done something wrong? Is there something you’d like me to do? All you have to do is tell me.”
She shook her head. “You’re wonderful, Zack. I’m lucky to be with you. And I’m totally confused.”
“Let’s talk about it, then.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Is anyone ever?” He’d just had the same battle the other day.
“Will you bear with me a little longer?” She’d shut down and there was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise, except let her deal with it in her own way.
“Of course.” Did he have a choice?
She leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you.” Her expression was sincere, and he didn’t doubt her need for space and time, though the ache in his chest tightened. Why did life always have to be complicated?
She used the bathroom and came back to his bedroom to dress. He’d thrown on his boxer briefs and jeans and sat on the bed waiting, his stomach twisting. The last thing he wanted was for her to leave without explaining what was going on, but she seemed content to silently put on her clothes with an audience. Him. And he gave her his full, though solemn, attention.
When she was at the point of slipping into her shoes he couldn’t stop himself. “Next Saturday? Emma? Cooking lesson?”
With worn-down shoulders she gave a defeated smile. “Can we make it Wednesday, again?”
A safe night. He’d been honest about her not staying over last Wednesday. Obviously, she hadn’t forgotten. The only thing going for it was the fact it was only four days away instead of seven.
Even with the sudden confusion between them, the words I love you fought to get out. But he clamped his mouth shut. No way did he want to seem needy. Would saying those words come off as desperate or, worse yet, manipulative, even though it was the honest-to-God way he felt? The last thing he wanted was to add to her confusion or doubt if admitting they loved each other was the sudden hang-up. If she wanted to be with him, he expected her to be sure about it. He threw on his shirt. No, now was not the time for his heartfelt declarations. Now was a time of watching and waiting. Hoping for the best. Not pressuring.
Not at all how he’d imagined the night would end. And driving her home and walking her to the door was the hardest thing he’d had to do since meeting her and letting her in little by little. But good things, like loving Lacy, were worth waiting for, and she deserved the time she needed to work through whatever caused her to hesitate.
Still, he was of the impression women liked to talk about their feelings. Mona used to insist she did until she stopped communicating altogether. Evidently not Lacy, and her stoic silence on the drive home surprised him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the throbbing pain that had moved from his chest and started like a jackhammer behind his forehead and temples.
Not at all how he’d expected this night to end.
* * *
Lacy let herself in the door with thoughts spinning and emotions grappling. Her heart pounded. She wasn’t ready for this, falling for Zack. For the sad yet simple reason she didn’t want to lose him. Watching him sing his heart out to her at the karaoke bar proved the point. He wasn’t kidding when he’d sang along with Michael Bublé on the Sinatra Classic, “The Way You Look Tonight.”
He was the chance for a real “rest of her life.”
Mournful memories had become all tangled up with the natural feelings of love. All the fun flirting with the guy she’d crushed hard on as a young girl had turned to kisses and foreplay and something far more serious. Giving herself completely to him in bed. She’d done it willingly, and loved every minute—no regrets there. But her heart was a different story. Apparently, it still needed to be guarded.
And she couldn’t forget the other part. Bonding with Emma. Was this what she wanted, a ready-made family, a second chance for one, at least, or would Lacy be Zack and Emma’s worst nightmare?
What a mess she was. Because of that damn rotten dream dredging up all the pain and sorrow she’d kept buried for so many years. Reminding her that just when she thinks her life is perfect, things change. The thought of opening her heart to love again terrorized her. When had she become such a coward!
Her pulse sped through her chest, a sense of panic accompanying it. Then a more practical thought occurred—this carelessness could also cost her her job. Maybe she should take that last-minute fill-in wedding gig she’d been offered this coming Saturday. At least then she’d have a good reason for skipping out on him that night.
From one week to the next, everything wonderful had been turned on its head because of her history with the people she loved. She was alone in the world and had to look after herself.
She couldn’t slip up and start caring too much for Zack.
* * *
Monday, Zack had obviously taken her hint, and sent his assistant, Mike, to fetch lunch. Even as disappointment trickled from her head to toes over not seeing him, she was grateful for the break. Having to see him and deal with her battling emotions while making his staff lunch would be too much. She could mess up, get their orders wrong, then everyone would know something was up. She finally caught sight of him—which caused a full-body reaction not unlike getting run over by a steamroller—and waved with a shaky hand as she drove off for the day after the lunch service.
He waved back, but through the rearview mirror she saw he was solemn, with no trace of a smile. And because of that, it was a wonder she hadn’t run off the road.
What must the man think?
Tuesday, at the Santa Barbara construction site, Ben was back there for some reason, but certainly not working with the building crew. He approached after letting all the others order and pick up their meals, since they were on the clock and he evidently wasn’t.
Seeing the inquisitive look on his face reminded her that was how he’d watched her last time. What was up with that? His unwavering stare was downright eerie.
“Do you have a sister?” he asked, out of the blue after giving his order for the usual two vegetarian wraps.
“I wish.” She stopped scooping braised tofu into the large spinach wrap. “I used to pretend I had one. How about you, sisters? Brothers? Both?”
“I have many siblings, but that’s not why I asked.”
She should’ve known the man didn’t make light conversation.
She was stretching and folding the round wrap like a huge burrito but stopped mid-tuck. She glanced up and saw new uncertainty in his gaze. Which made her wonder where he was going with the line of questioning.
“Mr. Gardner asked me to do an estimate on a bathroom remodel in Santa Barbara last week, and I just came from delivering the bid. The woman at the house has red hair, just like yours, but shorter, and her eyes were blue, like yours, and, well—”
As if ice water trickled down her spine she shivered over what she sensed he was going to say next.
“—she looked exactly like you.”
How long could she go on making excuses about how redheads often looked alike and imply that everyone else was getting it wrong? That something about copper-red hair made the person’s features blur, and people interpreted that as looking the same. Furthermore, Ben couldn’t possibly know for sure whether they looked alike or not unless they stood side by side. Even though copper-red hair and blue eyes was the rarest percentage of redheads, if that was truly what t
he woman had, thanks to hair dye and contacts, it didn’t mean she was Lacy’s double. Far from it.
A person had a higher chance of being struck by lightning than being born with her combination of hair and eyes. But what if the woman was left-handed, too? Suddenly, Lacy was invaded by uneasy feelings.
“Her name is Evangelina.”
Evangelina. The name hit her like a burst of adrenaline.
Eva for short? Wasn’t that what the woman at the wedding had called her? What were the odds? Now goose bumps accompanied the chill down her back along with the fight-or-flight response. A real-live doppelgänger?
“Are you sure she looked exactly like me? Maybe just similar?”
“I could’ve sworn it was you the first time. Almost asked if she was Lacy. And I’ve seen her twice now.”
Uncanny.
The dead-serious look on Ben’s face nearly made Lacy drop the wrap. She clutched it tighter. He didn’t strike her as the kind of guy inclined to exaggerate anything. That was probably why Zack sent him out to make estimates and give quotes since the accident. But how was she supposed to respond to what he’d just said?
“Has Zack met her?”
“No. Only talked to her on the phone.”
For some crazy reason, that relieved her. Also, she needed proof this woman was her spitting image. “Then next time take a picture.”
She tried to make light of it, for Ben’s benefit, rather than let on how earth-shattering his statements were. Ben paid for the wraps with his one good hand, then carried them away and without further comment strolled off to singlehandedly eat his lunch. She hoped she hadn’t insulted him, but how was she supposed to react? The mere thought of what he’d implied sent shivers down to her bones.
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