Chapter Nine

“Can’t you hurry?” Candace asked. “I want to be there before they arrive.”

Neal continued driving at the same steady pace. “We will.” He glanced over at her. “Not everyone can afford a speeding ticket every other day.”

Candace ignored the jibe at her finances. And at the reminder of the speeding ticket Garrett had handed over just yesterday. She knew her nerves involved more than the timing of their arrival.

Of course she was excited about seeing Ben and Tara. Not only did she love them individually, but it also gave her romantic heart a lift to see how they’d overcome the past. But her real excitement was based on her grandmother’s invitation for Neal to be present for a family dinner.

They had been lovers for five days now. Days that had been spent going about their separate lives. Then there were the hours they spent together at the youth center. The renovations were nearing completion, and plans were underway for a rededication ceremony.

Her heart thudded with memory of a request the kids had made.

It had been an effort to be in public with Neal and hold back her feelings. All too often she wanted to reach out and touch, nothing more than a brush of a hand or the linking of fingers as they talked. Of course, she thought with a small smile, that necessary restraint was unleashed the instant he showed up at her house.

Her smile wavered. He always came late at night, through the back door where there was less chance of anyone seeing his arrival and departure. Finally, she’d given him a key. She’d pretended not to notice how reluctant he’d been to accept.

Every time he left her, she resisted asking when he would return. Her arms made no attempt to detain what she had little choice but to accept as inevitable.

Her heart bled from the empty spot each leaving bore into her.

Candace tried calming her fears with the argument that she was expecting too much too soon. It was only natural the physical explosions between them would take precedence at this point in their relationship. It was only a matter of time before this needy desperation lost its sharp edge, and they gave more with words than with their bodies.

“I can’t believe you didn’t talk to Ben and Tara last night,” Neal said. “Or today.”

“I wanted to give them the privacy of having their first night in their new home. They didn’t come to the office today although I know Ben talked with some of the staff. Jet lag probably.” Candace shrugged a shoulder. “I remember when I came home from Italy it took me a couple of days to get back on schedule.”

“I always thought I’d like to visit England or the coast of France.” He glanced her way, then quickly looked back at the road. “You know, visit the Normandy beaches, maybe head over to Germany and see some of the places where the war was fought.”

It was a pitifully small confession. She locked it in her heart as if he’d offered words of undying love and adoration.

“You’ve always loved history, haven’t you?”

“I like reading about the past.” He shot her another quick look. “I guess because I didn’t care for my own.”

“Neal, have you ever noticed that you’re the one—the only one—who brings up your past? You’re the one who refuses to see what you’ve made of your life.”

Stopping in the circular driveway of the Hart Estate, he shoved the truck into parking gear. “I’m a football coach, Candace. And a teacher.”

“And I sell ads for a newspaper.”

“Your family owns the damn paper,” he all but shouted as they both stepped out of his truck.

She whirled, more furious and hurt than she thought possible. Not only did it appear she was no closer to having his heart, but she didn’t have his respect as well.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded. “That I don’t have to work for my paycheck?” She advanced on him, her toes actually knocking into his as she tilted her chin and confronted his impression. “Do you have so low an opinion of me you can believe I would use my grandmother, or my brother, as an excuse to skimp on my responsibilities?”

“I didn’t mean you don’t work hard.”

“Then why?” she whispered, anguish thick in her voice. The evening that had begun with so much promise now seemed sour. “Why would you think I believe less of you simply because of who your mother was?”

“What she was,” Neal corrected.

“God.” Candace whirled away again. “We’ve been over this before.”

Would they ever get beyond this? How could she hope to make him see that while she cared about the boy who’d had such a horrific childhood, she respected the man he’d become?

The late summer sun shot spears of heat through the leaves of dogwood and needles of pine, but Candace shivered. If Neal believed she couldn’t forgive him for the circumstances of his past, didn’t it stand to reason he couldn’t forget how she’d stood by while Anthony unleashed his fury?

Like a coward facing death on the battlefield, she wanted to run away from her own fears and uncertainty. Instead she turned toward the sound of a welcome diversion.

Ben honked the horn and Tara waved through the window with one hand while she used the other to unlock her seat belt. The instant the car rolled to a stop, she was out the door.

“Oh, it’s so good to be home.” Tara caught Candace on the fly and wrapped her arms around her.

“You look fabulous,” Candace declared, giving Tara another hard squeeze before stepping back. “Marriage obviously agrees with you.” She closed her eyes for a quick moment in denial of the questions she saw on her sister-in-law’s expressive face.

“This is a surprise,” Ben announced as he stopped alongside Neal. “Are we celebrating?”

“Of course,” Candace agreed, giving him a hug. “Provided you brought me a good gift from Milan.”

“By time Tara got through picking out things for the house there was nothing left to buy for anyone.” He grinned at his wife’s protest. “But that’s not what I meant.” Ben rocked back on his heels a moment. “The offer from the Academy?” he prompted Neal when he was met with silence.

“An offer from the Academy?” Candace repeated.

“We’ve just talked. It’s still preliminary,” Neal explained.

“It’s a hell of a deal,” Ben said. “Head coach for now, the promise of athletic director in a few years. What’s holding you back? Bradley Reynolds told me that Grandmother gave you a great recommendation.”

“You have,” Candace said, staring dumbfounded at Neal, “an offer to coach at the Academy, and you haven’t mentioned it to me?”

“Bradley Reynolds talked with me the night of the fundraiser we attended. Like I said, nothing is firm on either end. I asked him to keep quiet for now.”

“You have an offer to coach at the Academy,” Candace repeated, lifting a hand to rub at the pressure building in her temple. It seemed vitally important somehow that she was clear on this one issue. Then, maybe, she could deal with the other ramifications. “An offer that my Grandmother supports.”

“Yes,” Neal answered.

“You didn’t tell me.”

Candace stared at Neal, that one thought circling, taunting her thoughts. No, she couldn’t deal with the ramifications after all. He’d known for more than three weeks but had said nothing. He could sleep with her. He could touch her more intimately than she had ever allowed another man. Her entire heart was his for the taking. And he had kept to himself this one vital revelation.

“I would have told you…” Candace backed away when Neal took a step toward her. He swore, cutting a glance at Ben and Tara. “I didn’t want the entire town talking and speculating about this while I considered what to do.”

His explanation or rationalization didn’t matter. All that mattered, all that ached and hurt was his lack of trust, both in terms of simply confiding in her about the opportunity and in the broader aspect of not believing she would keep quiet until he made his decision.

“And yet,” she said, glancing quickly at Ben, thinking of what her brother said about Grandmother’s recommendation and the fact that Ben had been back in town less than twenty-four hours and had the scoop. “Everyone but me seems to have heard.”

“Damn it, Candace—”

“Are the four of you going to stand outside all evening?” Anita demanded from where she’d come onto the front porch.

“We’re on our way,” Tara answered.

“Yes, let’s go inside,” Candace said, walking away.

She hid behind the armor of pride. God knew it was a talent she’d damn near perfected during her marriage. She looked at Neal, saw his regret over what she’d just learned. The way she’d learned it, she corrected.

While Ben and Tara said their hellos to her grandmother, and a stunned Anita accepted Neal’s flowers, Candace went to the bar and poured drinks.

“I was going to tell you,” Neal murmured when he approached.

“So you said.” Candace took a drink of her wine.

“I was only thinking of the team, how the news and speculation would affect the boys and the upcoming season.”

“Oh, it’s very clear you thought only of the team. Lucky for me that my family owns the damn paper,” she said, using his earlier words, sipping more wine. “Don’t worry, Neal, I won’t give any of your secrets away. Any of your secrets,” she repeated, knowing he would understand she referred to the intimate road they’d recently traveled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She rounded the bar, sidestepped around him, and delivered a glass of sherry to her grandmother.

“We saw Dawson,” Tara announced as she and Ben sat on the sofa, shoulders touching, hands linked. “In New York. We were, uh, having breakfast in the suite, when there was a knock at the door.”

“Dawson showed up much the same way,” Candace said. “At the airport when I returned from Italy.” She shrugged and drained her glass, ignoring the frowns of both Neal and her grandmother. “It’s uncanny the way he seems to know what’s going on with us.”

She had an additional two glasses of wine during dinner. It was, she admitted, the coward’s way of dealing with Neal sitting beside her.

“By the way, Candace,” Tara said as they lingered in the dining room over dessert of strawberry shortcake. At the moment Ben was in deep discussion with Anita about some facet of the newspaper. “I have a message for you from Dominic.”

Candace grinned and propped her chin in her elbow. “How is he?”

“Every bit as gorgeous and charming as you warned.” In complete feminine agreement, Tara wiggled her eyebrows at Candace as she licked whipped cream off her fork. “He’s thinking of coming for a visit.” She winked. “Says he has the perfect piece to go with your bed.”

“He would know.”

“Your bed?”

Candace straightened at Neal’s curt intrusion into the conversation. It should have boosted her ego to see the frown on his face. Only there was a notch of fury that, after everything they’d given one another, he could believe she’d been with someone else. She felt the vindictive urge to take him down a notch.

“Yes. I met Dominic while I was in Italy. We spent quite a bit of time together.” Candace drained the last of her wine. “He helped me select my bed.”

“Helped you?” Neal’s hand clamped down on hers. “How?”

“How?” she repeated, pretending to not understand for a second before she smiled. “Oh.” Bolstered by the wine, she stretched the truth without a single qualm. “Well,” she whispered, leaning toward him as if to prevent her grandmother from hearing. “I guess you could say we, hmm, tried it out.” They had lain side-by-side, laughing and bouncing on the bed like two-year-olds.

Neal shot out of his chair, so abruptly that Candace jumped back in her own chair. Her head spinning, she looked up at him.

“I think we should leave,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

There was no doubt in her mind that if she went with Neal now they would end up in bed. And while she would welcome the release, the satisfaction of knowing Neal wanted her and was furious at the thought of another man having touched her, she admitted the sensation would be fleeting.

After all, when passion was spent, when bodies were no longer entwined and locked together, what else did they have?

“Go ahead,” she told him now. “I think I’d like to stay a little longer and spend time with my family.”

“You came with me. I’ll drive you home.”

“I’ll stay here tonight,” she decided. “Grandmother can drop me off at home on her way to work in the morning.” She lifted her chin. “Of course, by time I shower and change, I’ll probably be late, but I imagine the paper will get along just fine without me.”

Knowing it was mean and nasty she tossed out the low blow. “Everyone knows my job is only because I’m a member of the family. It certainly can’t be because I’m an integral part of the staff.”

Neal’s hands closed into fists at his sides. “We have a youth center meeting the night after tomorrow.”

“I imagine it’s duly noted on my social calendar.”

He stared at her a moment longer, the silence between them approaching a deadly level. At no surprise, Neal obviously decided against provoking her further. He drew in a deep breath, made a concentrated effort to loosen the grip of his hands.

“So, I’ll see you then?”

Candace looked at him and though her heart protested she sent the message that he wasn’t invited for another late-night visit. “I’ll see you then.” She turned away.

“Why don’t I walk out with you,” Ben said.

“I’ll join you,” Anita agreed, giving Candace a look that promised a lecture about her slip in manners.

“You were a little rough on him, don’t you think?” Tara asked when they were alone.

“Neal’s a big boy.”

“He hurt you,” Tara quietly commented.

The cut was still fresh enough to sting. “Why couldn’t he have told me, Tara? Is that too much to ask?”

“I imagine he had his reasons.” She held up a hand. “I’m not saying he was right. Just as it wasn’t right for you to use your friendship with Dominic as a means of lashing back at Neal.”

Candace eyed Neal’s untouched glass of wine and debated the wisdom of drinking it and crossing the line from a pleasant buzz to the threat of a throbbing hangover.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I think Dominic would see a certain dark humor in the whole situation.”

“What the hell is going on between the two of you?”

“Ben,” Tara cautioned.

He slapped his hands on the table and glared at Candace. “You’re sleeping with him.”

With a mental shrug, Candace reached for Neal’s wine. She couldn’t feel much worse than she did already.

“You’re wrong, Ben. Neal never stays long enough for us to sleep.” She downed the wine. “After all, he can’t risk someone seeing him leave my house.”

“And you blame him for that? Don’t you realize what everyone in town would say if they knew you were having an affair?” Throwing his hands up into the air, Ben walked two paces away, then swung back around.

“Beyond that, don’t you understand what this chance with the Academy means to him, Candy? It has nothing to do with winning or coaching. It’s validation that he’s gone beyond his mother’s reputation.”

“No one in town believes he’s anything like his mother.”

“Because he’s never given anyone reason to believe otherwise.”

Candace rose, her legs unsteady enough to force her to grip the table edge. She would pay for her behavior, both in terms of a hangover and the emptiness of a lonely bed.

“More than anyone else, Ben, I understand Neal’s pride. That’s why it hurt to learn he didn’t want to share this with me.”

****

“How much longer do we hafta wait?” Laura asked.

Out of the mouths of babies, Neal thought humorlessly. “Just a few more minutes,” he answered her. Glancing around the square, he hoped this plan would work. The old cliché about desperate times and measures had never seemed more appropriate.

Neal had suffered through four lonely days, and even more desperately lonely nights, without Candace. Oh, he kept busy now that football practice had begun. He filled his days with running plays, evaluating players, easing Corey’s pride by coming up with one job after another. At night he worked on lesson plans for the upcoming school year.

And missed Candace with a deep yearning that baffled him.

It was more than the passion and pleasure of sinking into her. It was the laughter and the quiet acceptance he’d always felt around her.

She had done her best to avoid him. Except for one youth center meeting and the afternoon where they each helped the kids earn money at a car wash. Both times she managed to be publicly polite and yet personally distant.

From Ben he knew she was working long hours at the paper. Whether she did so out of necessity or the need to prove something, Neal couldn’t be sure. He called, at various times of the day and night, but never got anything more than her stupid suggestion that he leave a message. Every time he hung up without saying a word.

“You remember what I told you?”

“I ’member.” Laura gripped a package in each of her tiny hands.

“You want me to hold one of those?”

She shook her head. “Do you think my mamma is gonna like her present?”

“She’s going to love it.” Neal crouched down to her level. “Your mamma is very lucky to have you to love her.”

“Uncle Neal?” Those serious green eyes looked up at him. “How come I don’t have a daddy?”

“You do, princess.” Unsure what to say or do, Neal reached out to touch her curls. “He just doesn’t live with you and your mommy.”

“’Cause he doesn’t love me?” Laura asked, her bottom lip trembling against tears no four-year-old should have to try and control.

“Now, how could anybody not love you?”

“I would be good if he lived with us. I’d pick up my toys. I’ll even eat my ’getables, and…” She trailed off as a suppressed tear escaped in a hiccup. “Will you be my daddy?”

The question stopped his heart. Neal had sworn he would never have children, had sworn that he would never want to subject them to anything close to the kind of scrutiny he grew up with.

Kneeling here now, however, Neal realized that to have a child look at you with the adoration shining in Laura’s eyes, offering unconditional love, would be worth the risk.

“How can I be your daddy?” he said gently, flicking his finger down her nose. “I have my heart set on us getting married when you grow up.”

“I can’t marry you,” Laura answered, a giggle escaping. “You’re too big.”

“He is pretty big, isn’t he?”

Neal quickly glanced up to discover Candace a few steps away. Her face was bleached pale by exhaustion. It should have given him a measure of satisfaction to see they’d both suffered similar sleepless nights while apart. Instead it was another regret.

Slowly, though his heart raced, he stood. Everything he’d thought about saying, all the phrases and explanations he’d rehearsed narrowed down into one.

“Not only am I big, but I’m also dumb,” he admitted.

Candace tilted her chin, a familiar gesture that had him wanting to step forward and take her in his arms. A couple of elderly men, one walking with a cane and the other wearing bright red suspenders, strolled past and called out a greeting.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” she told Neal after speaking to the men and before she knelt down to Laura. “Looks like somebody’s been shopping.”

“It’s my mamma’s birthday. Almost. Uncle Neal helpted me pick something out.”

“Will you show it to me?”

Laura shook her head and moved one bag behind her back. “No, it’s a secret.”

“Okay,” Candace agreed. “I wouldn’t want to spoil your mom’s surprise.” Behind the little girl, two female teachers from Neal’s school passed by, staring at them with open curiosity.

“You get this one,” Laura announced and held out the small bag in her right hand. “It’s a ward.”

“An award?” Candace guessed. “For what?”

Laura looked up at Neal, her lips pursed as she struggled to remember the explanation he’d given her. “For good work,” she said, editing his explanation down to a simple version.

“Good work,” Candace repeated, still not reaching for the bag.

Neal read her hesitation correctly. The curious part of her nature desperately wanted to dive in and see what the bag held. Only she knew the gift was more from him than from Laura.

“Don’t you want it?” Laura asked.

“Of course. I’m just trying to guess what it could be.” She finally took the bag by the twined handles, shook it gently. “Hmm. Let’s see. It’s not big enough to hold a puppy.”

Laura giggled and looked up at Neal. He put his finger to his mouth, insuring her silence.

“Open it,” Laura commanded, now bouncing from one foot to the other, the other bag in her hand swinging perilously.

Candace reached into her bag, pulled out the tissue paper, and carefully folded away the layers to reveal a miniature doghouse. Made of clay, it was painted a bright red. Neal knew it would fit perfectly into one of the slots of the printer’s box she had in her kitchen.

“I don’t have a dog,” she managed.

“That’s what I told Uncle Neal,” Laura answered, sending him a smug glance. “But he said it was for a special kind of dog.”

Candace swallowed and closed her eyes a moment. “What kind of dog?”

“A big, dumb one,” Neal answered.

“Do you like it?” Laura asked, uneasy with the silence. “They had a brown one, but I liked the red one best.”

“Yes, of course I like it. And you’re right, the red one is best.” Candace opened her eyes and looked up at Neal. “I have the perfect spot for it,” she said, carefully re-wrapping the present and tucking it back into the bag. “Thank you,” she told Laura.

Neal reached out a hand to help her rise, a gesture that if anyone in town saw them would think meant nothing more than a gentlemanly offer of assistance. When she placed her hand in his, Neal squeezed and held on a moment longer.

“You planned this,” Candace accused.

“I asked Tara to give you some kind of bogus errand so you would have to come outside. So you would have to face me.”

“You used Laura.”

“I was desperate.” He crossed his arms over his chest rather than reach for her. “I miss being with you, Candace.”

“You miss being in my bed,” she corrected with a discreet whisper.

“Yes.” It would hurt her more to deny the truth of that. “But I also miss spending time with you. I’m sorry, Candace. I was wrong to not tell you.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“No, it wasn’t a matter of trust.” He continued to stare at her as he ignored someone calling his name. “I just…I don’t know how to share anything in my life.”

“You chose not to.”

“You could be right,” Neal reluctantly agreed even as he admitted she’d hit on the heart of the issue. He had, with very little thought about her feelings, kept a part of him separate from her. He had sheltered his dreams, his very heart, with a wall.

Though it cost him, he took a step back and reached down to grip Laura’s hand.

“You told me once I had a choice when it came to where our relationship would go. Now it looks like it’s your turn to choose.”

“Wait,” Candace called out as he started to lead Laura away. With a quick glance around, she moved to them. “Tara didn’t send me out on some bogus errand,” she explained. “She told me to take my bad mood, the bad mood I’ve tormented the entire staff with for the last four days, out of the office and not come back until tomorrow.” She paused as Neal gave into the grin tugging at his lips.

“I think ice cream would do a lot to improve my mood,” she suggested, glancing down to include Laura in the plans.

“That might work,” Neal agreed.

“Can I have two scoops?” Laura asked.

“Nothing less. I do have a business dinner I can’t cancel,” Candace added, her voice softening where only Neal could hear. “But, maybe, you would like to come by later.”

Neal felt a strange tightness in his chest. Her brown eyes granted him a forgiveness he wasn’t sure he deserved.

“I could do that.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Just use your key if I haven’t arrived home yet.”