Still stunned by their heart-to-heart and the fact that Trevor wasn’t letting her just leave, Lissa found herself sitting across from him at a small crepe place he said he enjoyed. She ordered an apple cinnamon crepe, and they ate in an oddly companionable silence, considering the safe world she lived in had crumbled around her. She was facing interminable heartache, yet here she was, sitting across from him anyway.
“So what are your immediate job plans?” he asked.
She patted her mouth with the napkin and met his gaze. “Well, after I interview you, I have to go home and get to work on Ethan Barron. Do you remember him?”
He nodded. “My sister told me he came back to town after ten years, bought the Harrington estate, married Faith Harrington, and surprised the hell out of everyone in town by being a millionaire.”
“After his parents died and he disappeared, everyone thought he’d end up in jail… or worse.”
“Helluva story for you to write, though,” Trevor said. “Then what?”
Lissa shrugged. “So far, it’s been freelance. I’m hoping something permanent will come up, but even this way, I’m making more money than I was at Cuppa Café and writing the town obits.” She lifted her coffee cup and took a long sip.
“Which means you aren’t committed to staying in Serendipity because of your work?” he asked.
Her hands began to shake, and she grasped her coffee cup for something to hold on to. “Serendipity is my home,” she said hoarsely. It was her security. “My family is there. My friends…” Hard-earned friends, she might have added. Because Lissa didn’t let people in easily. In fact, she was better at driving them away. “Livvy’s life is there.”
Trevor shot her a knowing look, one that said he knew she was panicking. “Who are your friends these days?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.
She didn’t know why, but she was grateful not to have to think beyond right now. “You’re really interested?”
Again, that knowing yet patient look crossed his face. “How else can I get to know you again?” he asked.
She sighed and shook her head, unable to deny him even the simplest of answers, even if he wouldn’t like what he learned about her. “For a while, I was lucky I had friends,” she admitted. “I was unhappy, Trevor. I put up a good front around Livvy, but when I wasn’t? I was a raving bitch to most people.” She couldn’t meet his gaze, not proud of the woman she’d become for a while.
“Unhappiness can drain you.”
He sounded like he understood, but she still couldn’t look at him. “I’m lucky Kate Andrews decided she liked me. She’d come into the coffee shop, buy herself something, and hang out at the counter, talking to me when it was quiet and I wasn’t serving.”
“Kate…” he said as if trying to place her.
“Long, reddish-brown hair, best friends with Faith Harrington,” she said to jog his memories of their high school days.
He nodded. “I remember her. She was always outgoing. Nice.”
“And persistent,” Lissa said, wrinkling her nose at the memory. “She insisted I leave Livvy with my mom and come to Joe’s with her and her friends on Wednesday nights. It’s still Ladies’ Night. Soon Wednesdays became a ritual, and so did book club once a month. We rotate houses.” She shrugged. “After spending most of my time holed up in the house, I eventually had friends again.” She smiled at the thought of her small clique. “There’s Kate and some other girls from high school, Stacy Garner and Tanya Santos.” And now she even considered Faith Harrington one, too.
“And then Faith came back, and your career took off…” he said as if reading her mind.
Lissa shook her head. “It wasn’t quite that simple.” Drawing a deep breath, she recounted to Trevor how god-awful rude she’d been to Faith on her return to Serendipity.
“When Faith got together with Ethan, I took great pleasure in reminding her that though he could wrap a woman around his finger, he didn’t know the first thing about sticking around.” She winced at the reminder, knowing she’d said far worse to Faith—and God, she regretted it.
“Are you trying to scare me off?” Trevor asked, reaching across the table and grasping her hand.
His heat seared her skin, but the warmth in his eyes undid her, crumbling defenses she’d tried so hard to build. “I just want you to know who I am so there are no surprises.”
He grinned. “You forget I’ve seen you at your worst. I also know you only act out when you’re feeling jealous or threatened.”
Lissa’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Yeah, well, maybe I was jealous. From the outside, it seemed like Faith had it all. Even with her father in jail, she came back and opened a business, immediately fell back in with her old friends… and things were so difficult for me at the time…” She trailed off, thinking about Faith’s story. “I didn’t know how hard it had been for her until the interview. Not that anything excuses my behavior.” In fact, she’d punish her daughter if she ever treated anyone the way Lissa had Faith.
“Maybe you were afraid that since Faith had returned, she’d take Kate away from you, and you’d really be alone?”
Trevor’s perceptiveness took her off guard.
She was mortified he’d homed in on the one thing she’d never admitted out loud—or even to herself. Faith’s return home had threatened the life she’d built, but how had Trevor known? It was so scary how well he got her, yet he wasn’t running away as fast as he could.
She didn’t understand it. Her life never went the way she wanted, so she couldn’t begin to trust this fragile thing they were building. Yet Trevor was persistent—with his words, his understanding, and his gentle touch. Even now, he maintained contact, his thumb rubbing circles over her wrist.
“I’m guessing that didn’t happen?” he asked gently. “Kate stuck around?”
Lissa managed a smile along with a nod. “Of course Kate ripped into me for how I treated Faith, and she was right, too. But Kate’s persistent. She just kept including me and including Faith. We even did karaoke together at Joe’s.”
Trevor grinned. “I’d have paid good money to see that.”
Lissa grimaced. “Not something I want to repeat.”
His expression sobered as he said, “But Faith gave you that interview when she could have called on any well-known reporter who’d have killed for her story. There must have been a reason.”
Lissa shook her head, still dumbfounded by that. “To this day, I don’t know why, but I’ll be forever grateful that she did. Faith taught me about humility and forgiveness and so many other things.”
Trevor treated her to a warm smile. “That’s what I admire about you—your willingness to admit when you’re wrong. Sometimes it takes a while, and you come around kicking and screaming, but you do it, and that takes guts.” He cleared his throat. “So does having a baby at eighteen and living through a hellish marriage.”
Lissa blinked in surprise, a lump forming in her throat. “Don’t go canonizing me. I’m still no saint,” she reminded him.
“Especially not in the bedroom,” he said, his eyes darkening. And that quickly, serious conversation was over.
* * *
Lissa and Trevor parted ways after breakfast. Trevor decided to head into the office to get some work done while Lissa went to her hotel room to begin working on the article about him. In truth, Lissa suspected he needed time alone as much as she did.
Time to remind herself that despite how easily they fit together when they were alone, life wasn’t about living in a bubble, and they had too many obstacles to think about a future. Back in her hotel, she settled in with her laptop and began writing about Trevor Dane. The boy who’d pulled himself up and out of Serendipity to become one hell of a man.
By the time the evening approached, Lissa had accomplished more than she’d hoped for, considering her state of mind. She’d even managed to take a nap. She luxuriated in a warm bubble bath, then pulled out the simple black dress Trevor’s secretary had chosen for the dinner party.
From what Trevor had said and her research had indicated, Alexander Wittman was a big part of Trevor’s life, his mentor, and his friend. For that reason, Lissa wanted to make a good impression—and not just as a reporter doing a story. Though it was silly, if Trevor was going to bring her as his date, she wanted him to feel proud. Last night had been easier. Dressed in a ball gown and feeling like a princess, she’d almost been able to believe she belonged at the event.
But now, as Trevor helped her out of the limousine, nerves assailed her. Though he hadn’t taken his hungry gaze off her and clearly approved of the way she looked, her insecurities came rushing back. After all, if her husband, the man whose baby she’d borne and who’d married her, hadn’t seen her as country club material, why would Trevor’s business associates and friends see her any differently?
When she’d attended as Trevor’s reporter/date, she had been able to put those feelings aside, but now that he was looking at her possessively, she was petrified she’d fall short and embarrass him.
Unaware of her inner turmoil, he placed a hand on the small of her back. “Ready?” he asked.
She let out a deep breath. “Of course.” She walked toward the waiting doorman, who opened the door for them.
“Good evening, Mr. Dane. Mr. and Mrs. Wittman are expecting you,” he said, nodding politely to Lissa and acknowledging her with a smile.
“Thank you, George. See you on our way out.” Trevor steered Lissa away from the bank of double elevators and toward a separate single lift down the hall. “This way,” he said.
Once they were alone outside the small elevator, Trevor turned to her. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and forced a smile. “Nothing. Why?”
“You’re uptight, and your spine’s so rigid I’m afraid it’ll break,” he said, grasping both her hands in his. “Are you nervous about meeting Emma? Don’t be. You’ll love her.”
Lissa shook her head, feeling stupid, but if she didn’t let out her fears, she’d definitely screw things up even worse. “I don’t belong here,” she said on a rush.
“What?”
“The private elevator, a dinner party where we’re dressed nicer than any dinner I’ve ever been to…” She shook her head and swallowed over the lump in her throat. “If you were bringing me here as the reporter to cover your story, it would be one thing, but—”
He squeezed her hands tighter, forcing her to meet his gaze. “But what?”
Just say it, a small voice in her head insisted. “But my own husband didn’t want to be seen with me at formal events. These people you love so much are going to take one look at me and know I’m so far out of my league—” She cut herself off, horrified by the truth she’d blurted out.
She’d meant to be honest. Just not that honest.
An angry muscle twitched in Trevor’s jaw.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.” She was making a mess of a night that meant a lot to him.
* * *
Trevor took a minute to breathe and let go of the rage simmering inside him. “You didn’t upset me. That asshole you married did,” he finally said.
No matter how opulent the apartment, he and Lissa came from the same world. He’d had the same insecurities, probably more so as he’d had to navigate alone. She had him by her side.
“I’m sorry Brad made you feel inadequate in any way. You are spectacular, and the people upstairs will know it the second they lay eyes on you. Because they’re real and nothing like the Bankses of the world.” Speech finished, Trevor cupped his hand around her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss.
One light enough not to ruin the makeup she’d obviously spent so much time applying, but one sincere enough to make his point. “Do you believe me?” he asked.
Eyes wide, she merely nodded.
He hoped she meant it because he sure as hell had. “Ready?” he asked her.
“Ready,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Trevor nodded. “Good.”
The night went better than Trevor could have hoped. Alex and Emma clearly liked Lissa and made her feel at home, as did their small group of guests. By the time ten o’clock rolled around, Trevor was ready to get her out of there and be alone with her when Alex waylaid him.
Together they walked to a private corner. “She’s something special,” Alex said.
Trevor inclined his head. “That much I know.”
“But? I sensed tension from her earlier tonight.”
Trevor nodded. Alex had always been perceptive. It was why he’d done so well in business. He was good at reading people. “She doesn’t think she belongs here,” he said, frowning at the notion.
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Did anyone say something to make her think that?” he asked angrily.
“No. It goes back a long time,” Trevor said, not wanting to divulge Lissa’s personal insecurities. “She thinks we live in different worlds now.”
“I see.” Alex nodded knowingly. “She does have a valid point.”
Narrowing his gaze, Trevor glared at his friend. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Breathe, boy.” Alex laughed and gestured toward a passing server to bring them each a drink. “Serendipity isn’t exactly Manhattan. Can you blame her for feeling a little out of place? I’m sure she’ll adjust in time.”
“Only if she wants to.”
“You both have to want to,” Alex said.
Before Trevor could respond, the server returned with two glasses on his tray. “Scotch on the rocks,” he said.
Trevor accepted a glass, as did Alex. “Thank you.” The server nodded and walked away.
“They’re hitting it off,” Alex said, his gaze drifting toward the corner of the room where Emma had pulled Lissa away for a private chat.
Trevor was grateful the other woman was making an effort at helping Lissa feel more comfortable, but he didn’t plan on leaving her alone for too long.
As always, Alex’s gaze softened as he looked at his wife. The man, a shark in the boardroom, was a marshmallow at home. “Relationships are a two-way street, you know.”
“I’m trying,” Trevor said. Hell, he was doing his damnedest to convince her they could make a go of it. “It’s only been two days…” His voice trailed off, knowing time didn’t mean a damn thing. They’d known each other for too long.
“But there are ten years to get over,” Alex said. “Not to mention a lot’s happened in that time. You’ve been a confirmed bachelor, while she’s a mother.”
As always, the reminder felt like a physical punch in Trevor’s gut. “I know.”
“Do you?” Alex asked, putting a hand on Trevor’s shoulder in a fatherly gesture.
“What are you saying?” Trevor asked.
“Just this. Before you ask her for anything, make sure you can handle her life and everything that comes with it. It’s not fair of you to ask her to let you into her life unless you’re sure you want all of her, including her child.”
His stomach cramped and he suddenly felt the weight of responsibility he hadn’t thought of before. “We haven’t discussed it,” Trevor said.
“And you haven’t given it much thought because you’ve spent the weekend in bed,” Alex said, guessing correctly.
Trevor broke into a sweat. He wasn’t sure whether to thank Alex for making him face the truth, or to deck him for bringing it up.
“One thing is for sure—no matter how you come by them, children are a lifetime responsibility and when they’re stepchildren, so are their biological parents,” Alex said. “Now, I know I’ve given you a lot to think about. Let’s go join the women.”
With a new weight on his shoulders, Trevor followed Alex over to Lissa, suddenly panicked, knowing he couldn’t possibly jump into the idea of being her daughter’s father overnight.
Alex was right. Either Trevor was all in or he bailed before either of them got hurt.
And deep down, he feared it was too late for that.
* * *
Trevor was silent on the way home. Too silent, and Lissa couldn’t help but fear his thoughts. For the past two days, she’d been telling herself this weekend was all they had—but inside, she couldn’t deny there was a flicker of hope. She wanted more, and he’d done his best to indicate that he did, too.
But ever since he’d returned from talking to Alex earlier, Trevor had been more withdrawn. “Would you mind if we went back to my hotel room?” she asked, knowing that even if they spent tonight together, it would be easier on her if he left in the morning. That way she could just fall apart instead of having to be the one to walk away.
“Sure.” He sat by her side in the Town Car, but unlike their last few rides, he kept his hands to himself.
Another bad sign.
She fingered her small bag, her nerves getting the best of her until the driver finally pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. A doorman immediately stepped up and opened the car door, then stood back and waited.
Lissa exhaled a long breath and turned to face him. “Thank you for taking me with you tonight. It was a pleasure to spend time with Alex and Emma since they both mean so much to you.”
The evening had also filled out her article in immeasurable ways, but she wasn’t in the mood to bring up business.
He smiled at that. “When I was younger, they helped me feel welcome, Alex in business and Emma on the social side.”
She nodded in understanding, then reached for his hand. “Trev, I’m so glad we had this time together.” It was more than she’d ever dreamed of and less than she wished for deep inside.
“Does this mean you’re not inviting me up?” he asked, his voice gruff.
She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to come.”
His blue eyes darkened. “I probably shouldn’t, but I’m selfish enough to want more. I want tonight,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Oh, he was definitely preparing for the end, she thought. A far cry from the man who’d faced her earlier. But she wasn’t ready to ask questions she didn’t want the answers to yet. So though she knew she’d hate herself for prolonging things, she met his gaze and nodded.
“I want that, too.” She slid out of the car before she could change her mind and held out a hand, indicating he should come, too.
The next few hours were the most beautiful and the most painful of Lissa’s life. Trevor held her hand as they made their way upstairs to her hotel room and locked the door behind them.
He undressed her slowly, taking his time because they had all night. What they didn’t have was a lifetime, and that was the only thing that would satisfy the yearning inside her. Still, she wanted these last moments, and she made sure to recall each and every one. His strong, tanned hands gliding over her skin, his dark hair as he bent over her, his mouth taking her breast and suckling and teasing, torturing her until her need was so great, she thought she’d come from that alone.
He worked his way down her body, making love to her with his tongue, worshipping her in the way only a man could, replacing memories of them at seventeen with those of a night stolen out of time. One that belonged to them alone.
And by the time he lifted his body over hers, poised for entry, she’d already come more times than she could count, yet she still hadn’t had enough of him. She never would.
With his gaze fused to hers, he nudged at her opening and slowly eased his way inside, making sure she felt every last inch, every ridge, every thick hard part of him. Only when he thrust home, so deep she knew he was touching more parts of her than he’d ever reached before, did he lose control.
“Lissa.” Her name a groan, he pulled out and thrust back in, her own moisture creating a slick haven for him to pound in and out of her, bringing her up higher and higher.
She tried her best to hold back her emotions, to take the ride and just feel everything inside her and process later, but the tidal wave of feelings he created was too great.
“Trevor.” His name came out on a sob, triggering his release.
He didn’t hold back either, murmuring words of love and caring, words she absorbed into her heart and her soul, sensing this was the last time she’d hear them out loud.
And as he took over her body, coming inside her, he carried her up and over with him. Stars exploded around her, inside her, shattering her heart in the process.
When their breathing slowed and he pulled out, separating their bodies, he curled himself around her and held her tight. Neither said a word, Lissa holding back sobs but letting the tears fall. And later still, when hours passed, he’d made love to her one more time before she fell into a fitful sleep.
Lissa awoke to the feel of him sliding away from her and out of bed just as the sun began to creep through the window.
She knew her options. She’d weighed them each time she woke in his arms during the night—remain silent, pretend to be asleep, and avoid a painful goodbye; or get up and fight for what she wanted.
She’d spent yesterday telling herself it was better for them to separate now, but the more she thought about it, the more she had to ask herself why. Fate had brought them back together at a time when they had no obstacles in their way unless they put them there. This time, there was no pregnancy and no other man.
True, Lissa had a child, but why couldn’t Trevor get to know Livvy and accept her as Lissa’s little girl, and eventually as his own? Many men accepted other men’s children. Even with their intertwined pasts, they should be able to do this.
She owed it to herself to at least reach for what she wanted. Heart pounding, Lissa pulled herself to a sitting position in bed, lifting the sheet to cover her naked body. “Trev?” she asked softly.
He turned. The only light in the room came from the sun filtering through the drapery. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.
“Were you going to just slip out without saying goodbye?” She brushed her tangled hair off her face.
“I would’ve left a note.” He sounded as sheepish as he ought to feel, Lissa thought.
“Don’t go yet.” She patted the space beside her, but he remained standing and shook his head.
“I thought… I think we should make this as easy on ourselves as possible.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Says the man who insisted this wasn’t closure? That if it hurt, it meant there was still something between us?” she asked, throwing his own words back in his face. “I admit I’m the one who was ready to throw us away, but I was wrong. What changed on your end?” She hated how her voice trembled, but she had to know what happened.
“I thought about what you said yesterday. About the things that separated us. And I thought about something Alex said.”
Uh-oh. Lissa’s heart began to thud against her chest in a painful beat. “And what was that?”
Trevor reached for his slacks, pulling them on before speaking. “He brought up more things than just the distance between New York and Serendipity and the disparity in our lifestyles. He said I shouldn’t push you for anything until I was sure I could accept everything your life involves.”
And at that moment, Lissa knew exactly what Alex had said. “You aren’t sure you could accept Brad’s child as your own,” she said dully, the pain hurting so much more than she could have planned for.
He spread his hands in front of him while he so obviously searched for the words to explain. “It’s more than that. It’s whether I’m ready to be a father. To be honest, I gave up that dream when I lost you. I dove into college, work, and making a life for myself.”
Lissa nodded slowly as she digested his words, believing part but dismissing the rest. “Let’s be clear, okay? This has nothing to do with whether or not you want to be a father. Whether you can adjust your bachelor life. This is about me having Brad’s baby and you having to face that every time you look at my daughter.”
He jerked as if she’d struck him, but to his credit, he pulled himself together.
He rolled his shoulders back and met her gaze. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s it. But could you blame me?” he asked, his voice rising. “Could you really blame me for having a tough time with it?” He sucked in a breath, then muttered a low curse. “Shit. I didn’t mean it that way.”
He sure as hell had, Lissa thought. She closed her eyes, and only when she was sure she could speak calmly did she look him dead in the eye. “Not only did you mean it, but I have an answer to your question. Yeah, I sure as hell can blame you. Not before yesterday, but after. After you looked me in the eye and told me we weren’t over. Now this?” She shook her head, devastated beyond words. “Just go,” she said, wanting him to leave so she could be alone when she cried.
She turned her head and waited. She felt him standing there staring at her, and she held her breath, wondering if he’d crawl onto the bed, pull her into his arms, and say he’d made a mistake.
Instead, she heard him dressing and getting himself together. After an interminably long time, the hotel door shut behind him, leaving her alone.
She turned and rolled into the pillow that smelled like him and sobbed for what felt like hours before dragging herself out of bed and into the shower.
She had a daughter she adored and a life to get back to. There was no way she could go home with swollen eyes because her perceptive little girl would ask her why Mommy had been crying.
* * *
Trevor waited until he was alone in the elevator and slammed his hand into the metal wall, grateful for the pain throbbing in his knuckles. Better to focus on that than the pain searing his heart.
He hadn’t walked out on Lissa easily or lightly, but he’d done it based on the main thing Alex had said that made sense. Before you ask her for anything, make sure you can handle her life and everything that comes with it.
Was Trevor sure he could handle dealing with Brad Banks as Lissa’s ex-husband and her daughter’s father? Could he be a stepfather to a little girl who probably adored a man Trevor hated?
He didn’t know, but he’d better figure it out soon—before he lost Lissa for good.