Full Disclosure (No Secrets Book 1) Page 7

  “Where’d you go?” he asked softly.

  “Sometimes I’m claustrophobic. I’m better now.” And I was. As episodes go, this one was manageable. I was completely aware that my unlocked door no longer stood as a barrier to my freedom. I could go now. He was not preventing me from leaving. I can go now.

  He grimaced and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have kept you in here.” He gestured, indicating the interior of the SUV. “Maybe you should go…”

  I struggled to keep my face impassive. This man had just massacred my defenses and now he wanted me gone? Maybe I could retain a shred of dignity if I just went with as little fanfare as possible.

  Ignoring the sudden pang of despair, I leveled him with a last, parting look. This really would be the last time I laid eyes on him. He regarded me silently, that same undecipherable emotion flitting across his gorgeous face.

  Using every last bit of willpower I possessed, I opened my door and stepped out into the cold evening, my sore body rebelling as usual, but this time my movements were almost unbearable. He made no effort to stop me and remained seated, continuing to stare. I felt like I was in slow motion. I leaned down so I was at eye level and peered through the open passenger side window.

  “Good-bye, again.” My words were barely discernible.

  “Olivia, wait.”

  He suddenly looked so sad, his words a desperate plea. “I was hoping you’d agree to see me again. I’d like to start over, if you will allow it.” His eyes sparkled and he smiled, a truly dazzling smile the likes of which I had never seen before. I was mesmerized, trapped in his gaze, and once again all conscious thought deserted me, leaving just him and me.

  “Dinner? Tomorrow night?”

  I wasn’t sure why, but I knew if said no, he would be true to his word and I would never see him again. I was trembling and tears stung my eyes. I gripped the top of the door and rested my forehead against my fingers. This was the stepping off place. Was I strong enough to take the risk?

  “Do you feel it?” he breathed. “The spark?”

  I didn’t answer verbally, but quickly looked away. He feels it, too.

  “Please don’t make me stay away from you,” he said.

  Taking a shuddering breath, I steeled myself as I lifted my face to meet his fervent gaze.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. Good-bye, Damien.”

  And before my brain could process what I had just done, I spun on my heels and smoothly glided up the porch steps. On autopilot, my hands located my keys and within seconds I was leaning against the door as it clicked shut, reaching behind me to secure the lock. My mind was completely blank, and I focused on breathing evenly. There was only an ambient glow coming from the distant kitchen, but I refrained from turning on any lights. The still darkness was what I needed.

  Like a shooting star, an arc of light pierced the dimness, moving across the room and illuminating everything in its path before, finally, burning out. I didn’t need to turn around and peer out the window to realize he was gone. The knowledge should have relieved me, but left me strangely empty.

  Bending down, I removed my heels, resisting the urge to fling them against the wall. I climbed the stairs to my room, feeling hot tears lose their struggle against gravity and telling myself that I had made the right choice.

  If only my struggling heart would get the memo.

  CHAPTER 5

  All too soon, the grating blare of the alarm woke me from a restless sleep. Reaching over, I switched the alarm off and gingerly stretched under the covers. I was definitely in better shape physically than yesterday, much better in fact, since today I could point my toes without groaning, and the overall stiffness appeared to have faded to a barely noticeable level. I took a deep, satisfying breath. At least my body was on the mend. I wasn’t sure I could say the same for my emotions.

  Last night had been…‌unexpected…‌frustrating…‌confusing…‌totally hot. I let my mind wander over events. He had admitted straight up that he followed me, and showed a glaring lack of contrition even though he somehow understood my feelings about that kind of behavior. I paged back to our phone conversation, remembering my comment, how I didn’t like men who stalked, and he apparently took note. A tiny thrill swelled up but was immediately dampened when I remembered that he had went ahead and followed me anyway just a few minutes after I told him my feelings.

  But it didn’t matter. I was not seeing him again, and a hollow yet oddly reassuring feeling took the tiny thrill’s place. And after I returned the bike, my association with Damien Stone would be categorically over and done.

  Done and dusted. A good thing.

  Ignoring my aches and pains, both physical and emotional, I gently hopped from the bed and gave my body a little stretch. I’d have to deal with inquisitions from Lucy and Justine today, and the insight made me want to slide back between the sheets. After a long sigh, I smoothed the sheets and duvet, eliminating the evidence of my tossing and turning. When finished, I felt marginally better.

  As I showered and prepared for the day, I decided I’d drive over to Laumeier Sculpture Park and meander around if the weather held, make a day of it with nature and art.

  And with any luck, forget about the events of last night.

  * * *

  I sauntered through the doors to the gym with a few minutes to spare. Weldon was at his usual spot behind the front desk, his hands at the computer keyboard. He looked up at me as I approached, eyes crinkling as he smiled his huge toothy grin.

  “Liv, you’re looking better,” he said, looking me up and down. “So, still no headaches?”

  “Nope. I told you, I’m good.”

  He nodded, a half-smile on his lips. I swung my bag off and moved to join him behind the desk. “I take it she hasn’t graced us with her presence yet this morning?”

  “Not yet.” He clicked the mouse a few times, closing out the program. Narrowing eyes on me, he turned his chair to face me, hands on his thighs. “It goes without saying that I appreciate you working on your day off.” He grinned, all white teeth and chocolate eyes. “But maybe I should say it anyway, no? Thanks, Liv.”

  “Hey, I didn’t have anything else to do at eight on a Saturday morning, so I may as well come in and put Ms. Pritchard-Price and her Pradas through their paces.” I smirked at him, opening drawers in a vain search for a stray protein bar.

  “At least it’s your only client and you can go and have a life after you’re done.” He sighed, and I was reminded that with Joe gone, Weldon was, for all intents and purposes, a single parent.

  I pursed my lips, feeling a bit shallow for my attempt at humor. “When Joe’s done with this assignment, I’m having Jason and Chloe over for a sleepover so you two can have some quality time.” I winked knowingly. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

  He nodded, suddenly looking ten years older. “I might just take you up on that, Liv.” He exhaled deeply once again.

  Chewing the inside of my cheek, I looked my boss up and down, noticing the tiredness around his eyes.

  “You know,” I said, draping myself across the new vinyl and aluminum second chair, “I could go for some munchkin time today. What’s shaking at the Lopez casa?” Not only was the chair ugly, it was uncomfortable. I finally leaned back and put my feet on the desk, Boone-style.

  Weldon also reclined in his faux leather chair, which creaked and groaned under his weight. “The kids would love to see you, but you’ve already put in enough hours this week, Liv.”

  “I miss them. I have nothing going on. Come on, let me help,” I pleaded, laughing as he struggled with accepting my offer. “Besides, I bet they miss their favorite aunt.”

  “Liv, you don’t have to‌—‌”

  “I want to, Weldon.” I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a deal-with-it look.

  Exasperated, Weldon rolled his eyes and shook his head, a grin spreading. “Sometimes I forget how stubborn
you are. Okay, the kids would love to hang with their Aunt Liv today. I could stand to get some more work done around here.”

  “There. Was that so hard,” I teased. “So it’s settled. What time?”

  “Well, that’s up to you.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Jason has lacrosse practice at ten. Chloe is at soccer practice now. I was going to pick her up after dropping Jason at lacrosse, then swing by the orthodontist for her ten thirty appointment.” He smiled at my widening eyes. “Welcome to my life.”

  “Pfft. That’s it?” I waved him off. “Just tell me where to go and I’ve got you covered.”

  Weldon cocked his head. “You’re really something, you know that, chica?”

  “Oh, I’m something, all right.”

  “Thanks, Liv.” He then changed tack. “So, what’s on tap for Mrs. Pritchard-Price today?”

  I went through my regimen plans, leaving out the earlier thought to work her so hard that she would sweat all her makeup off.

  Weldon nodded. “Sounds good. I knew I could count on you when I handed you the ropes.”

  He had a way of making me feel guilty when I hadn’t done anything. Yet. Avoiding his eyes, I headed toward the vending area, talking over my shoulder. “I need coffee. Want anything?”

  “No, thanks,” he called back. “I’ve got everything I need.”

  Oh Weldon, you’re such a sweetie. I sighed and rolled my eyes. Guess I’ll have to suck it up and go easy on Ms. Priss again today.

  * * *

  After hustling the kids through quick showers, they piled in my Jeep. Chloe sat in the coveted passenger seat, which made Jason silently resentful. He was only eight and his calls for shotgun were succinctly overruled by both his sister and me.

  The day was turning out to be unseasonably warm, so with Weldon’s blessing, I kept to my original plan and after a short trip by the house to change into a blue sundress and flip-flops, we were off to the park. That was, until the kids cajoled me into stopping for pizza.

  “Come on, Aunt Liv. We’re starving.” Jason’s green eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, startling me for a moment, reminding me of another set of striking green eyes. I jerked my gaze away.

  I glanced at Chloe beside me, her expression indicating an equally wasting-away condition.

  I knew when I was beat. “Okay, we’ll get pizza first.”

  “Yay!” Chloe turned in her seat and fist-bumped her brother. Clearly, they knew how to work the system.

  While we ate, I stayed off the topic of their dad Joe, not knowing if the tension I noticed from Weldon had permeated through to the kids as well. Instead, I steered the conversation toward their individual activities, sports and school.

  While Jason visited the restroom, I ventured a question. “So, any cute boys in your class, Chloe,” I said, waiting for an eye-roll. I was surprised when she met my eyes shyly.

  “There is one,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Daniel. He’s actually a year ahead of me.”

  “So that would make him…” I did the mental calculations. “A freshman.”

  She blushed. “He’s not actually my classmate. He doesn’t even go to my school, obviously. He’s Grace’s big‌—‌I mean older, brother.” She blushed again.

  “Is this the same Grace who’s been your best friend since forever?”

  “Since I got my dads. Yeah.”

  Chloe had been five when Weldon and Joe adopted her, while Jason was adopted as a newborn. Her turning into such a well-balanced, agreeable young lady clearly spoke to the wonderful parenting of her dads. Oftentimes, children adopted later in their childhood had adjustment issues, and Chloe bucking those odds brought a surge of happiness to my heart.

  “So, an older man.” I grinned and raised my brows. “And what does Daniel look like?”

  Chloe’s eyes became dreamy. “Oh, he’s tall, with light brown hair and blue eyes. He looks like Ansel Elgort.”

  “Who?”

  “You know. The actor.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  I pressed my lips together. “Sorry, guess I’m not up on the current hotties.”

  She shrugged. “Oh, it’s okay. I bet my dads don’t know him either.”

  “Did you just compare me to Weldon’s age? Because he’s a lot older than me. A lot.” My tone was teasing, but there was a certain sting to her words. I knew this is how kids were‌—‌blunt, lacking in artifice. Telling the truth as they saw it. If kids viewed me as old, then maybe it was the truth.

  Jason returned to our booth, and we headed to the car while I made a mental note to check for gray hair and wrinkles at the next chance.

  * * *

  The one thing I hadn’t considered before our trip to Laumeier Sculpture Park was the strength of the sun’s rays. Poor Jason, with his pale complexion and blond hair, had patches of skin the same color of the label on the bottle of Coke he guzzled. And by the time I had realized he was turning the shade of a lobster‌—‌and made a mad dash into the gift shop to purchase sunscreen‌—‌it was too late.

  “Sorry, kid, but tonight’s going to be a painful one.”

  We were seated in a shaded area, our backs against a grouping of giant red oil drums, welded together and arranged in a tumbled manner resembling a modern-day Stonehenge after a tornado had blown through. The sun was on its way down, so we sat on the east side sipping our drinks.

  “You think I’ll get blisters? Mark Landon got blisters and he popped one in social studies. It was so cool.” Jason peered at me under the baseball cap I had bought him to try to save his tender scalp.

  “Trust me, you don’t want blisters,” I laughed, tapping the bill of his hat. He looked so sweet and innocent, with a trickle of sweat running down his cheeks. Adjusting my lens, I snapped a few photos, close-ups of Jason and Chloe against the red of the sculpture. I was in my element, surrounded by acres of grass interspersed by imaginative works of art. It was a paradise for novice photographers, and I had picked a perfect day to capture the images digitally.

  Patches of emerging daffodils and tulips littered the landscape. The park was literally springing back to life after winter’s hibernation. But the eclectic sculptures captured my imagination. Bathed in natural light, I could have sat for hours and watched as the colors and textures of each work of art changed as the sun crossed the horizon. I had been here dozens of times, but each new visit revealed yet another fresh perspective, and consumed more space on my laptop’s hard drive.

  “How many pictures do you think you’ve taken today, Aunt Liv?” Chloe asked, her face aimed at her phone and her fingers flying across the keypad, an indication she was probably about done with nature for the day.

  “You want to see some?” I snapped a final selfie of the three of us and then panned through the photos. “Almost three hundred, and you’re probably in almost half.”

  “What about me?” Jason asked.

  “Oh, you’re in just as many, maybe more. Look, here’s one before your sunburn.”

  Chloe leaned in, peering thoughtfully. “Oh my gosh, look at that puppy.”

  I looked at the photo, noticing a man with a cute Jack Russell terrier puppy in the background of a shot of the kids. A cold chill ran down my spine. Zooming in on the image, I studied the man. His face was in profile and I would never have noticed him if Chloe hadn’t pointed out the dog.

  The man looked so eerily similar to Travis, but what were the chances?

  “Very cute.” I turned the camera off abruptly and rose to my feet. “You guys ready to head back home?”

  As we walked to the Jeep, I couldn’t help but cast my eyes far and wide. What if Lucy was right and he was back? A sense of unease settled over me as the kids chattered about the day.

  “Look, there’s that puppy.” Chloe pointed in the distance.

  All the color rushed from my face as I turned to look.

  I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I was holding and let myself sag in reli
ef. The man looked similar to Travis, lanky with jet-black hair, but it was definitely not him.

  “It’s not him,” I whispered. Clearing my throat of cobwebs, I used the relief to my advantage.

  “Last one to the Jeep’s a rotten egg,” I shouted. Jason and Chloe both gave little shrieks and tore off through the newly green grass as I followed. The sounds of their giggles dispelled my worry, and I took one last photo, arms and legs pumping and the setting sun casting its glow on their receding bodies.

  * * *

  “So, don’t think I’m not aware you’re avoiding me.”

  I answered Justine’s call at seven thirty on Sunday morning‌—‌my first day off this week‌—‌before considering the ramifications of who it might be and what they might want, a result of being in a sleep-induced coma. She knew if there was ever a time I would absent-mindedly answer my phone, it was at seven thirty on a Sunday morning. Damn Justine and her sneaky ways.

  “Not to sound insensitive, but somebody better have died,” I said.

  “Don’t change the subject, woman. You’re lucky I’m not at your front door.”

  I groaned and rolled over. “Justine, why are you calling me at the ass crack of dawn on my day off?” I asked, even as I remembered exactly why she was calling me. And what her next words would be.

  “You never replied to my texts. Or my calls. Please tell me you’ve been shacked up with that gorgeous hunk of man-flesh.”

  Coy never worked with Justine, so I opted for straight-on balls-to-the-wall truth.

  Rubbing my face, I sighed. “Okay, it was nothing, and before you say a word let me reiterate: it was over before anything started. He brought me home. I came in the house alone. We are not shacking up and I won’t be seeing him again. Sorry to disappoint.”

  Justine said nothing, and I even started to worry we had lost the connection. “I’m hanging up now, unless you have something nice to say.”

  “Oh, I’m still here,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out where your effing brain is, sweetie. He was clearly into you. I mean, the sexual tension in the room was stupid.”

  “I agree. It was stupid. The whole thing was stupid.”