Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Read online

  "Stop it," he yelled.

  "Stop what? Someone has to say it out loud. Do your customers know that your own baby died in a crib just like that one? Do you think they'd buy this furniture if they knew?"

  Nick felt a wave of deep, stunning anger. "How dare you imply there's something wrong with these cribs? This is not a sick obsession; it's a business, and a good one."

  "Based on our daughter." She peered down at the robin in the corner, then put a hand to her mouth. "You even use the bird!"

  "The name of the business is Robin Wood Designs," he said ruthlessly. "It's all about Robin, our daughter, the one whose name you can't even say out loud."

  "I have to sit," Lisa said, weaving slightly.

  Nick pushed her down on top of a crate. She rested her head in her hands as if that would stop the dizziness, the madness. After a long moment of silence, Nick knelt in front of her. He put his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. She didn't resist, so he just held her for long, silent minutes, his chin resting on top of her head.

  Finally he spoke. "I needed to make something that would last, Lisa, something that would be here when I'm gone. For a long time, after you left, a couple of years I'm ashamed to say, I didn't even know what time it was, what day it was. I got so wasted I lost my job. Then I met an old guy who made furniture, and for the first time in a long time, I actually thought about something besides you, besides Robin."

  She lifted her head and looked at him. When she didn't say anything, he continued, knowing that he had to make her understand, that he couldn't let her go back to L.A. thinking he was crazy or worse—abusing their daughter's memory in some twisted way.

  "Carving the wood was like therapy, I guess. It felt good to be working with my hands again, to be making something beautiful. It took some of the ugliness out of my life. I stopped drinking, and I started working again. At first I just made rocking chairs. Then one day I made a cradle, then another. It seemed like every time I made a piece of baby furniture, I got a piece of my life back.”

  "I don't understand," she whispered.

  "I know you don't. Because in order to survive, you had to leave, you had to forget. The only way I could survive was to face the memories head-on every day, to think about her, to remember her. Otherwise, I felt like she would have died for nothing. Robin was here on this earth for two months. She was inside you for much longer." He stroked her face with his fingers, feeling her soft skin beneath his calluses. "She was in us always."

  "Oh, Nick." Lisa took a shaky breath. "I don't want to cry."

  "She was beautiful, Lisa. Robin looked just like you. Her blue eyes, her dark hair. Remember her tiny hands, her long fingers?"

  "Stop, please."

  "She used to watch you when you left the room. And when she woke up, and she saw you, her smile was so damned bright, it lit up the whole room."

  "Except for once..." Lisa's voice broke as the tears gathered in her eyes and one slid down her cheek. "She didn't wake up, Nick. She didn't smile at me. And it was my fault. I wasn't good enough. I didn't do the right thing. I--"

  "Sh-sh." He put a finger against her lips as the tears streamed down her face. "You did everything right. She just died, Lisa. It wasn't anybody's fault."

  "She was in the crib, and it was too big for her, and she should have been in the cradle, but we wanted her to be in her own room, because we were so tired at night, and it was so difficult to sleep, hearing her breathe and rustle around in the blankets, and that's why we moved her." Lisa sobbed the last few words.

  Nick tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling his own emotions threatening to spill out. He couldn't stand the look on her face, the pain in her voice, but he knew she had to get it out, that they finally had to face it.

  "The crib had nothing to do with it. The doctors all said that."

  "But how can anyone die for no reason?" she asked, crying in earnest now. "How can a little innocent baby die without anyone knowing why? It's not fair. It's not right. Why did this have to happen?"

  "I don't know, honey. All I know is that we loved her as much as any parent could love their child. We didn't kill her with lack of attention, or too many blankets, or put her in the wrong position. We didn't."

  "It could have been that. She was on her stomach."

  "She loved to sleep that way. She hated being on her back, remember?"

  "Now they say that might be bad for babies."

  "Now they say," he repeated softly. "We didn't know it was the wrong thing to do. We still don't."

  His voice was gentle, kind. Lisa felt it cover her like a warm blanket. Looking into his eyes, she couldn't remember why it had been so difficult to trust him before. "That was always the hardest part, the not knowing," she said. "I wanted a reason, Nick, a logical explanation, and no one could give me one."

  "I felt the same way."

  "Having Robin was the best thing that ever happened to me. Losing her was the worst."

  He looked at her for a long minute. "Having you was the best thing that ever happened to me and losing you was the worst."

  She touched his cheek. "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean that you were any less the love of my life than Robin."

  "Was I? The love of your life?"

  "You know you were."

  "I wasn't sure you did." He smiled and grabbed a napkin off his desk so he could dry the tears from her cheeks. "I think these tears were long overdue.”

  "You always knew how to make me cry," she said, her wry smile taking the sting out of her words.

  "Among other things."

  As his eyes darkened, Lisa realized she was still attracted to him, so attracted it took her breath away. It seemed like only yesterday when they had been together, when kissing him was as natural as breathing air.

  "Lisa?" he murmured. "I want to kiss you again."

  Her body tightened in anticipation, and she couldn't deny that she wanted him to do just that. "We seem to be pretty good at this love/hate thing. A minute ago, you were screaming at me, now you want to kiss me."

  "A minute ago, you wanted to tear me apart, but now I think you'd like to kiss me back," Nick replied.

  "We're both crazy."

  "At last, something we can agree on."

  Lisa smiled, and Nick lowered his head. His mouth had barely touched her lips when she heard the door opening and the sound of a woman's voice.

  "Nick. Are you here?"

  Lisa pulled away, surprised and embarrassed by the unexpected appearance of a beautiful redhead in the doorway.

  Nick turned his head. "Suzanne."

  Suzanne looked shocked as her gaze moved from Nick to Lisa. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. Who--"

  "This is Lisa," Nick said. "My ex-wife."

  "Your ex-wife? First a sister, now an ex-wife? Next, I suppose you're going to tell me you have a kid?"

  Chapter Thirteen

  "If you'd told me three days ago, I'd be on a plane to San Francisco with a handsome stranger, I never would have believed you," Maggie said to Jeremy as their plane began its descent into the San Francisco Bay Area.

  "The mysteries of life are infinitely frustrating for those of us who try to make sense of them," Jeremy said with a smile.

  "You have such a way with words. I can see why you're a writer. What kind of screenplays do you write?"

  "Mysteries. Thrillers. Psychological horror."

  She nodded, somewhat dismayed by the enthusiasm in his voice. Although they'd talked forever last night and Jeremy had shared a bit of his history, he was still a stranger. And she was still neurotic enough to imagine that he could turn out to be a charming serial killer.

  "I've become obsessed with obsession." Jeremy's eyes darkened along with his topic.

  Maggie licked her lips. "What—what kind of obsession?"

  "Oh, lots of things, like what makes a man become obsessed with a woman so that he can't think of letting her out of his sight, letting her talk to other people, see friends,
go out by herself."

  Maggie felt her pulse begin to race. "What did you come up with?"

  "I think it's about control. A man like that has to control everything and everyone. He can't stand the thought of someone who is supposed to be loyal to him having anyone else in her life." He paused. "It's an interesting subject, don't you think?"

  "It's kind of frightening, especially for a woman."

  "Would you let a man do that to you? Would you cut your ties with friends and family for him, so that everything you did, said or thought about involved him?"

  "No, never. That isn't love."

  "What if he's a great guy otherwise? I'm not talking about someone who abuses his wife, just controls her. What if he buys you pretty things and tells you you're beautiful and says he adores you and can't bear to share you with anyone? What if he's incredible in bed, and you'd do just about anything if it meant another night of great sex?"

  Maggie nervously waved a hand in front of her face. "It's hot in here, don't you think?"

  Jeremy grinned. "I'm scaring you, aren't I? I'm not talking about me, and that was a hypothetical you."

  "I knew that."

  "You are so gullible, Margaret Mary Scott."

  Maggie sighed at the sound of her real name on his lips. She had had no choice but to tell him who she was. She'd needed ID to check in at the airport, and she certainly didn't have a driver's license with the name Crystal on it. She'd been rather sorry to see Crystal go. Crystal had had a lot more fun than Maggie usually did. Of course, the way Jeremy was looking at her now told her he had some fun still in mind for Margaret Mary Scott. If she dared.

  "I'm not all that into control," he added. "In fact, sometimes it's more fun to let a woman take charge." He touched her thigh with his hand, causing a shiver to run down her spine. "After all, I'm the one following you at this very moment."

  "And why exactly are you following me?"

  Jeremy took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm intrigued."

  "And that's why you're on a plane to San Francisco with a woman who lied to you about her own name? A woman who thinks her dead husband might still be alive?"

  "Hell yes. I haven't read a story this good in years, and I haven't written one lately, either."

  "You think this is a good story?" Maggie asked, not sure if she should be offended, shocked or pleased. It wasn't a story to her—it was her life.

  "It's a great story. But I'm not here just because I can't wait to see how this turns out. I like you. I'm attracted to you. I'm hoping that at some point you might feel the same way."

  "I already do," she said candidly. "But I've never had a casual affair. I wouldn't know how. And with the possibility of Keith still being alive, I need to focus on finding Serena and figuring out the truth."

  "I know that." He smiled again. "Relax, Maggie. I came along for the ride, because to tell you the truth, I haven't been able to write in a month. I'm stale, burned out, blocked, whatever you want to call it, and when I found you standing outside Serena's condo yesterday, I felt like I'd just been hit by a blast of fresh air. I figure a trip to San Francisco with a mysterious woman is just the ticket to get my creative juices flowing again."

  "Well, I hope I can be of help."

  Jeremy reached out and touched the corner of her mouth, and the teasing light in his eyes faded into something more serious.

  "What—what are you doing?" she asked.

  "You had a pretzel crumb," he replied in his deep, mesmerizing voice.

  "Oh." She held still while he brushed the corner of her mouth with his finger. "Is it gone?"

  "I don't know. Let me check." He kissed her first on the corner of her mouth, then trailed his lips across hers in a sensuous, tantalizing manner that made her want so much more.

  He stopped as an announcement came over the PA.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has asked that you fasten your seat belts," the flight attendant said.

  Maggie couldn't help but smile. "Boy, they got that right."

  He grinned back at her. "I don't bother you, do I?"

  "Not a bit. I'm cool as a cucumber." Maggie fastened her seat belt, then looked out the window, trying to catch her breath, to slow her pulse. Jeremy seemed to turn her on without even trying. She wasn't used to even thinking about sex. After having been married for so long, she'd pretty much gotten over being attracted to a man every time she sat down next to one.

  Today, she felt eighteen again, letting the timbre of Jeremy's voice draw shivers down her spine, letting the touch of his hand on her thigh turn her stomach inside out, letting the scent of his aftershave direct the course of her breathing. This was foolish, crazy.

  She'd slept with Keith for years without feeling a rush simply because his body was close to hers. She'd felt comforted, yes, and when they'd made love, she'd felt excited, eager. But when it was over, her mind had moved on to the laundry, and the bills, and the kids' schedules.

  Now, she could barely remember her kids' names or why she had gotten on this plane in the first place. She kept thinking about Jeremy, with his long hair, his sexy body, his sensuous voice. She wondered what it would be like to sleep with a stranger, to make love with someone new, to run her hands down a body that was unfamiliar, to have him do things to her she had only imagined.

  Good heavens! What was she thinking? She glanced over at him and caught him watching her. "You're staring at me."

  "I can't help it. Don't you like looking at me?"

  "Yes. No. I think I'm out of my league here. It's been awhile since I've gone anywhere with a single attractive male and been..." she sighed, "single myself. I wonder if I'll ever get used to that idea."

  "You will."

  "Have you ever been married, Jeremy?"

  He shook his head. "I've managed to escape so far."

  "You make it sound terrible. What about children?"

  "I never saw myself as a white picket fence kind of guy. And I've never had much to do with kids. I was an only child." He shrugged. "I don't know. I never thought much about it. I never met the right woman." He tilted his head as he studied her. "You know, someone who made me want to drop everything and run away with her."

  Maggie's heart stopped. "If that's a line, it's a really good one."

  He laughed. "You don't have much self-confidence. I wonder why that is." His smile faded. "Tell me about your husband."

  "Keith? Why—what do you want to know?"

  "Did he love you as much as you loved him?"

  "I thought so."

  "How long were you together?"

  "It seemed like forever."

  "Do you really think he would have had an affair with someone like Serena?"

  "I'm not sure." She looked into his eyes. "I haven't met Serena yet. From what you told me, from what they said in the gym, she's very beautiful, sexy, fun. I'm sure that must be appealing to a man."

  "You're all those things."

  "Maybe I wasn't with Keith," Maggie said softly, knowing in her heart of hearts that that was one of the things she needed to find out. Had she driven Keith to an affair because she hadn't been good enough—because she'd let her figure go, her hair, her nails? Had she let him down? Had he been disappointed in her? She had so many questions. She just hoped Serena could answer them.

  The plane landed and braked to a stop.

  "We're here," Jeremy said. "Are you ready?"

  "Yes. Where should we go first?"

  "Serena usually stays at the Crestmoor Hotel when she's in San Francisco. She likes all that old, rich class."

  "Then let's go there."

  Jeremy stood up as the passengers began to disembark.

  Within a few moments they were standing in the middle of the terminal. As they walked toward the exit, Maggie pulled out phone. "I need to make a call," she said. "Do you mind?"

  "Go ahead."

  She moved several feet away and called home. As she waited for someone to answer, she glanced over at Jeremy. He was leaning against th
e opposite wall, and he was watching her again, a small smile on his lips. She would have turned away, but his look made her feel so desirable, so sexy that she hated to let the feeling go.

  "Hello?"

  Maggie started at the sound of a voice, feeling suddenly guilty as she touched base with her reality, the one she really lived in, not this fantasy world where she was falling in love with a handsome stranger. Not falling in love, she corrected immediately, feeling a touch of panic at the thought.

  "Is anyone there?" a voice asked.

  "Silvia? Is something wrong?" she asked abruptly. "Why are you there? Where is Lisa?"

  "She's with Nick, and everything is fine," Silvia replied. "Roxy and Dylan took Sally for a walk, and Mary Bea is playing in the bath."

  "So everyone is okay? Mary Bea isn't missing me terribly?"

  "She's having a good time getting to know her Aunt Lisa, and Nick is great with her. They don't seem to mind me either."

  "They adore you, Silvia."

  "How are you, Maggie?"

  "I'm fine," she said simply. "When do you think Lisa will be back? Goodness, did you say she was with Nick?"

  Silvia gave a little laugh. "Yes. Isn't it wonderful? I hope you're getting lots of rest, Maggie, darling. In fact, it might be good if Lisa had a reason to stay a while longer."

  "Silvia, are you matchmaking?"

  "With my stubborn daughter and your equally stubborn brother? Yes. But they don't listen to me. I'm just glad they have this opportunity to see if there's any love left. So you take your time coming back now."

  She smiled. "It's ironic. I could have asked Lisa to come down before, but I never wanted to push her."

  "Everything in its own time, dear. Now, when did you say you'd be back?"

  "Tomorrow." Maggie paused as an airport announcement rang through the terminal, making it impossible for her to hear. Finally, it ended.

  "Maggie, are you at the airport?" Silvia asked.

  "Yes. And listen my battery is starting to die, and I don't have my charger with me. So don't worry, I'll call you later."

  "All right dear. And don't you worry either. Between Lisa, Nick and myself, your children are in good hands. Everything is just fine here."