WHEN TRENT USED that tone of voice, his employees knew better than to continue the debate.
Emily just stuck up her chin.
“That’s garbage,” she shot back. “It isn’t dead and buried. Well, it might be buried, but it isn’t dead. And since you’ve buried something that stinks so much, it’s in danger of turning your brain into a massive abscess. You and Alaina are adults now. It’s time to tell the truth.”
Trent stared at her belligerent face. Emily’s colorful imagery was too apt. It had been like an infection, abscessing in various ways, pushing him further and further from his family and friends. But at least that had been a place where he had some sense of control.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
She cocked her head and he knew the inquisition wasn’t over. All at once he thought of the time when he’d had an abscess in his leg when he was fourteen. Aunt Sarah had rushed him to the clinic and he’d put on a stoic face, not wanting them to touch the painful swelling, at the same moment hoping it would feel better after the procedure. If this was the same as that, maybe he should consider it.
Emily leaned forward. “I bet you were also afraid that if Schuyler found out about your father they’d wonder if you’d turn out the same way,”
How could she so accurately locate his wounded spots? Once again he felt the sucking energy of the tornado.
“I suppose,” he admitted grudgingly. “People always wanted me to be like Gavin—charming and sociable and fun—but I knew what a louse he was, so I never wanted anyone to say I was charming like him.”
“Don’t worry,” Emily advised drily, “there isn’t much danger of that.”
Trent chuckled, feeling as if the joke had slapped him back into normality. Almost.
Lord, here he was, sitting in a kitchen with a woman who’d turned him upside down and forced him to look at his life in a new way. But he was also being whipped by two emotional storms, torn between the ancient one from childhood and the force of nature that was Emily. There had to be a way of putting her into a more manageable category in his life.
Would another night with her help or hinder that attempt? And could he resist either way?
“Where is the gun now?” she asked.
“In my private safe. I’d planned to dispose of it, but couldn’t. I don’t know, maybe it is time for the truth to come out.” The admission gave him a curious sense of release. “Besides, if the weapon was used in the robberies, the authorities would probably appreciate closing the book on those crimes, even if the statute of limitations has passed.”
* * *
EMILY SAW THE resolution spreading over Trent’s face as he made his decision. She hoped it would give him some of the peace he deserved.
“What about your family?” she asked. “You can’t speak to the police and leave them out of the loop.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s good,” she managed to answer through the tightness in her throat. She stirred her spoon in the pool of chocolate syrup left in her bowl, then went to the freezer to get more ice cream. She served herself another scoop and put a couple more in Trent’s bowl. Something about Trent’s expression had subtly shifted and it was making her heart pound harder.
They finished their dessert in silence, then stood. Trent tugged her close.
It was heavenly to have his arms around her. We fit together, whispered a traitorous voice in her head, a voice she crossly told to shut up. After a few more minutes, she felt his lips moving at the side of her neck. Delicious shivers danced down her spine and rushed into her abdomen.
“Why don’t we take up where we left off this morning?” he asked in low, rough tone.
“I thought that’s what we’ve been doing, discussing what needs to be...discussed.”
“Actually, I was thinking about what happened before we started talking.” His hand moved down, into the small of her back.
One more night, she thought. It wasn’t too much to ask for someone who’d been stupid enough to fall for a man way out of her league. She still had questions, but she’d rather spend the night making love with Trent than talking.
His lips moved to her mouth and she realized he’d somehow disposed of her blouse. “I like these lacey bits you wear,” he murmured. “But I like you even better without them.” The bra quickly followed the blouse to the floor.
“It’s too bad the hot tub hasn’t been installed,” Emily gasped as he played with her breasts, teasing them to plump attention.
“We’ll make do,” he breathed, lifting her easily into his arms and striding toward the bedroom.
* * *
MIKE SAT ACROSS from Alaina at a table outside the Roundup Café. She’d agreed to meet him for a cup of coffee, refusing to treat it as a date.
After stirring cream into her cup, she leaned forward. “I don’t enjoy games and I’m tired of wasting time. I’ll go to dinner with you, but it can’t be a one-time thing. I want to know the real Mike Carlisle, and I want you to know who I am, not just who you think I am. The only way to do that is to spend serious time together.”
He blinked. “Were you this direct with the guys you dated in New York?”
“No. I was never that interested in anyone there.”
Energy pricked at him... Did that mean she was interested in one Mike Carlisle?
“It still seems strange that you’d leave a good career and come back to Schuyler. I’ve wondered if it was a bad relationship you wanted to leave behind.” It wasn’t the smartest thing he could have said. New York seemed to be a sore point with Alaina, and now her eyes flashed once more.
“You don’t get it. Over and over you just don’t get it. I wouldn’t let a guy run me off from a job I enjoyed and which, I might add, I continue to do as a consultant. The only thing I gave up was location.”
Wow, he’d walked into that one.
“Okay.” Mike held up his hands in surrender. “Then why did you come back to Schuyler?”
“Because you did. I was hoping you’d finally pay attention to something right in front of you.”
Astounded, he stared at her. Alaina had left New York because of him?
“How... I mean, you wanted...?” he stuttered into silence.
“I want you to notice me. I’m the dumb player who goes for the long ball, same as you always did. And by the way, I know exactly what happened at your last game. You were showing off, like usual, this time for a slinky redhead. It was stupid and I was so mad at you I could have spit, but I loved you anyway.”
“You...loved me?”
“Yeah.”
It suddenly hit him that she hadn’t said how she felt now. “Loved,” he repeated, “as in past tense?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out what’s real and if you’re the person I always thought you were. I never cared about Lightning Carlisle. Now I’m wondering if anyone else ever existed, except in my imagination.”
The enormity of what she was saying slammed through Mike’s head. Apart from his parents, Alaina and her brother might be the only people who hadn’t cared if he was a hero. Yet he’d never paid much attention to Alaina, first because she was too young, later because he was too involved with being a hotshot baseball star, and still later because he was bitter over the loss of his career.
“By the way,” Alaina continued heatedly, “you had a decade in the majors. That’s more than most guys. It’s too bad it ended earlier than you wanted, but deal with it. You ought to feel lucky, not bitter.”
A rueful smile tugged at his mouth. With the possible exception of her brother, Alaina was the only person he knew with the guts to tell him the truth.
“Okay,” he said finally, “where do we go now?”
“First I need to know if you’re interested in getting to know me the way people are supposed to know each other. If you’re not, that’s the end of it. I’ll leave you alone to stew in your own juices, though I should point out that those juices shouldn’t be too many six-packs behind closed doors.”
The skin around Alaina’s lips was white and he recalled her uncomfortable reaction when he’d answered the door with a beer in hand, and another time when she’d seen a carton of ale on his kitchen counter. In actuality he didn’t drink that often, despite appearances.
“I agree completely,” he said quietly.
She looked suspicious. “About what part?”
“All of it. I’ve been blind and stupid. You’re amazing and I’m definitely interested.”
Alaina regarded him suspiciously. “Second,” she said, “I have no intention of becoming your girlfriend simply because you feel lucky to get me under the circumstances.”
He blinked, confused, and she made an impatient gesture.
“Put it this way, Mike. I’m not a consolation prize for what happened to you. I don’t want that, any more than Emily wanted to be someone you settled for because you figured you couldn’t do better.”
Hell. Mike winced. If that was what Emily had thought, it wasn’t any wonder she’d dodged a second date with him.
“It isn’t how I saw her... I mean, she seems like someone who wouldn’t mind being a teacher’s wife...” He stopped, aware that he was making things worse. “What I especially liked is that she’s new in town and doesn’t remember me as the town baseball star.”
Alaina narrowed her eyes. “Gee, what woman wouldn’t be honored to be pursued for such a stellar reason? Emily is my friend and I resent your treating her badly.”
“Give me a break. Lots of people get interested in each other because of something small or simple. It wasn’t that she isn’t attractive.”
Alaina’s lips pressed together, then she nodded. “Okay.”
Mike frowned. “Emily is nice and I never meant to hurt her.”
“Don’t get bigheaded about that, either. Her ego is slightly bruised, but she was hardly in love with you.”
“I’ll still apologize.”
“Don’t you dare,” Alaina snapped. “With your foot-in-mouth disease, you’ll just make it worse.”
He was about to protest when he decided to follow the old saw about discretion being the better part of valor. Anyhow, maybe he did have some shortcomings in the verbal department. He’d never intended to give Emily the wrong impression.
“Okay,” he agreed. “As for the rest, I guess I don’t know very much, except that I’ve been attracted to you for a long time. The main reason I didn’t do something about it when you moved back was because dating a buddy’s sister can get sticky.”
“I’ll always be Trent’s sister,” Alaina reminded him crisply.
“Now I don’t care if it gets sticky. It’s Trent’s problem, not mine.”
“Good. I want to clarify another issue. I’m interested in the whole enchilada—marriage, family and lifetime commitment—with someone, not necessarily you. Are you opposed to marriage and kids, or willing to consider it with the right person?”
“I’m willing to consider it,” he answered firmly. The conversation reminded him of a contract negotiation.
“Then I’ll put this in terms you understand...you’ll have a lengthy spring training and tryout period while we get to know each other and decide if we should play on the same team. No shortcuts. I’m not interested in someone who can’t last more than a couple of innings, and I don’t want someone who can’t see that new dreams are able to take the place of old ones.”
“That’s... Sure.”
“I mean it,” Alaina insisted. “Teaching isn’t a dismal fallback position. Kids are the future. When I have children, I want them to have teachers who are excited about helping them, and that’s what your students deserve right now.”
Mike nodded, feeling as if he’d been jerked awake after a long, stuporous slumber. Alaina Hawkins was the kind of woman he should have been looking for all along. And if he had recognized that, he wouldn’t have been showboating for every pretty face he’d noticed in the stands.
And while he could do without having a bum knee, the future could be pretty great as a high school teacher in Schuyler, Montana.
* * *
EARLY IN THE morning Emily slipped out of bed and went into the kitchen. They’d gotten plenty of exercise over the past ten hours and she was hungry.
“Any coffee?” Trent asked, walking in sleepily.
“It’s almost done brewing. Help yourself to toast and cheese if you want it. I’m not in a breakfast-cooking mode yet, but I have eggs if you want to give it a go.”
“I don’t cook,” he admitted, popping two slices of the whole-grain bread into the toaster. “The closest I can manage are those microwave breakfasts from the grocery freezer case.”
“Whatever works.”
Emily was determined to be sophisticated and not get stupid about Trent spending a second night with her. It had been one of those unique events, where emotions and events came together and the result didn’t mean anything; she wasn’t even sure she wanted it to have a meaning.
Was she in love with the guy? That would be a disaster. She had neither great beauty nor, apparently, a personality he especially appreciated.
And even though she understood the tragedy behind his hard face and admired the way he protected his family, she wasn’t necessarily crazy about his personality. Probably it was simply a case of full-blown lust.
Trent had gotten dressed, which was good because the sight of his still-tousled dark hair left her wobbly with renewed cravings.
“Uh... I guess it’s obvious why you wanted Wild Rose Cottage,” she said. “To get the gun.”
“Yes and no.” He poured himself a cup of coffee. “To be frank, I wanted to bulldoze the place into splinters. I’ve dreamed of doing it for years, but Webber wouldn’t sell, and then you bought it before I knew it was on the market.”
“Oh,” she said, the admission sending mixed emotions through her. Curiously, she was sorry he hadn’t got what he wanted, but the thought of Wild Rose Cottage being demolished was disturbing.
He shrugged. “I’m dealing with it.” After finishing his coffee and toast, he stood. “I’d better get going. I’ve got some people to see.”
Emily hoped those people included his family, but didn’t ask. She wanted to keep the morning-after routine casual. That way there were no false hopes.
With so much of the downstairs completed and the second-floor renovations in progress, she should have been satisfied. The bedroom and bath she was using needed to be done, but things were in good shape. Once they finished the second floor and attic, she’d move up there and let them do the rest. Everything was going fine.
She was perfectly happy except for a few niggling feelings of guilt. If she hadn’t bought the house, Trent could have erased the scene of his childhood pain. Part of her wondered if she should let him warm up the wrecking ball after all, but she really believed Wild Rose Cottage deserved a future.
At least he’d made some peace with it. She probably wouldn’t see so much of him now that he didn’t feel the need to personally knock down the walls. There might be a few nasty notes or odd bits that could surface, but hiding them only mattered if his father’s behavior was a secret, and if he turned in the gun it wouldn’t be a secret any longer.
“It’s a good thing that he’s laid some of his ghosts to rest,” Emily told the house as she curled up in the corner window seat. She absolutely refused to let any tears fall.
It was time to be normal again.
* * *
ALAINA DRIFTED AWAKE as her golden retriever nudged her fingers and whined for attention.
“Morning, Shelby,” she said, yawning. She was still having a few nightmares, but they’d gotten better lately.
She and Mike had decided to treat the evening as their first date, eventually going to the Chinese restaurant. They’d lingered after dinner, talking for over an hour. It might have gone on longer, but she’d felt it was wise to keep things to a reasonable length of time.
Mostly they’d discussed movies they liked, probably because it was a relatively safe topic and they’d needed a break from more intense subjects.
Mike’s favorite film was The Shawshank Redemption, which she’d already known from the interviews he’d given over the years, and he had discussed the Stephen King story with thoughtful intelligence.
As dates went, it had been good. He’d even kissed her before saying good-night.
A satisfied smile curved Alaina’s lips.
It had been a very nice kiss.