To Win Her Back Page 11

  “Yet, after fifteen years, here you are because your friend thinks you and Sam have things to work out. She obviously knows something you aren’t willing to admit.”

  TJ had a point. What the hell was V supposed to say? Before she could think of anything, TJ slumped against the gazebo’s post.

  “You were my friend, V. You might have convinced everyone else you never loved him, that you’d just used him for what you could get, but I know better.” The haunted look in her eyes arrested the defensive comeback on V’s tongue. “I remember every detail of that day Mom and I got to Florida after Sam was injured.”

  So did V. Sam’s parents had been beside themselves with worry, and she wasn’t much better. She’d been so relieved when TJ and Kay had finally arrived. Then Sam had announced he had a coaching job waiting for him back in Texas when he was done with school, and V had panicked.

  A gust of wind tossed a loose strand from TJ’s braid into her eyes and she tugged it free. “Did you think I couldn’t see the hell in your eyes that day? A woman doesn’t look like that over a man she’s using. Then, all of a sudden, you went white, like you’d seen a ghost or something, and you took off, claiming you had to get to work before I could ask what was wrong.”

  And instead of driving to her job at one of the college-town cafés, V had raced to her apartment to pack up her meager belongings and head north. Jake had spoken to TJ several times when she’d called shortly after V had arrived at Boston College, but she’d been too screwed up to talk to her friend. After a couple of weeks, the calls had stopped.

  The way she’d treated TJ was one more regret V had carried for years. An apology now was too little, too late, but it was something. “I’m sorry, TJ. I should have called you back, but….” She held out her hands, then dropped them to her sides. “I didn’t know what to say.”

  TJ pushed off the post. “How about, ‘Hi TJ. I’m in trouble and I don’t know what to do about it?’ Did you think I wouldn’t listen? Think I wouldn’t have found a way to help? I love Sam like a brother, but you were my friend, and you dumped me right along with him.”

  Tears stung the back of V’s nose and throat. “I don’t know what you’re looking for.”

  “You could tell me what scared you enough to turn your back on Sam. On me.”

  And this. This right here was the main reason she’d stayed away from Barlow even after learning of her father’s death. Not the insults or the dirty looks. Those she could handle, but Sam’s questions and the pleading in TJ’s eyes were razor-sharp stakes piercing her heart.

  Brushing an errant tear from her cheek, she gave the only answer she could. “There’s nothing to tell. Even if there was, it no longer matters. I made my choices and I’ve learned to live with them.”

  Disappointment dulled TJ’s eyes, and her chest rose on a frustrated sigh. “You’re wrong. It still matters. Sam got over you, but you were his first love. Now, here you are again, and the two of you are playing a dangerous game. I no longer care if you get burned in the process, but Sam is another story. If you break his heart again—”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  TJ’s eyes flashed with heat. “It did once.”

  “Only because I was stupid, thinking I could have things I couldn’t. I know better now.” Heart in her throat, V softened her voice. “I’m not here by choice, TJ. I’ve got a job to do, just like Sam. Besides, after what I did to him, I couldn’t break his heart again even if I tried.”

  Chapter 12

  Sam set the foil casserole dish on the stovetop and glanced at the clock. According to Lucy, turkey with all the fixings followed by a movie marathon had been her and Maggie’s Christmas tradition. With the kitchen packed up for the move, he’d been forced to improvise, but the frozen store-bought lasagna was one of Lucy’s favorites. Plus, he’d never cooked a bird in his life, never mind all the stuff that went with it.

  Opening the fridge, he eyed its meager contents, and retrieved the bagged salad. Second thoughts flickered through his mind as he dumped the pre-measured greens and Caesar salad dressing into a large bowl. He probably should have accepted Aunt Kay’s invitation to Christmas dinner. That would have been easier. This was the first Christmas since Maggie had died, and being surrounded by a crowd might have helped to dull Lucy’s grief.

  On the other hand, he and Lucy would need to form their own traditions from here on in, and the sooner they started that process, the sooner she’d see her life with him wasn’t a temporary arrangement. The Marauders would be taking the field in Atlanta in twenty minutes, followed by several other games, but there would be movies later. He slid a knife through the pasta and cheese, cringing at the titles she’d chosen when they’d stopped by the RedBox.

  She’d picked out one action-adventure—to keep him sane, she’d said. He’d need it after the three chick flicks on the agenda. He plucked several heavy-duty paper plates and plastic cutlery from the box of temporary supplies V had left on the counter, and grunted. Caroline was right about V’s organizational skills. She’d thought of everything.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face. Upon arriving home last night, with V in tow so she could pick up her rental, Lucy had slipped out of the truck as soon as he’d parked. After a quick “Merry Christmas” to V, she’d rushed inside, then practically pressed her nose to the kitchen window, no doubt hoping to catch a glimpse of their good-night kiss.

  Another taste of V was a temptation he’d found almost impossible to resist, but one look into her eyes had overruled his baser instincts. They were dulled with exhaustion, with good reason. Kay’s party couldn’t have been easy for her, but she’d gone through with it. The question was why?

  Her life was in Manhattan. In a few days, she’d shake off the dust of Barlow once again and return to the life she’d built, where the opinions of her former friends and neighbors couldn’t touch her and didn’t matter. Why then, had she said yes?

  The only logical explanation was she’d done it for him. Because he’d said she owed him, and she agreed. That didn’t jibe with the image of selfish bitch he’d painted her as all these years, any more than her reaction to his kiss fit that of the cold-hearted woman who’d agreed to marry him one day and disappeared the next.

  Leaning his hands on the counter, he dropped his chin to his chest. He’d told TJ not to worry, that V no longer had the power to hurt him, but she could sure as hell still tie him in knots. He’d stared into her tired eyes last night, and the urge to hold her and beg her to tell him why she’d left had nearly seared his soul. In the end, he’d pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead with the reminder to drive safely.

  Lucy had retreated to her room by the time he’d watched V drive off, giving him no opportunity to explain what was happening between them. That needed to be done. Today. The problem was, he had no idea where to begin.

  Straightening, he tore open the bag of croutons for the salad with more force than was necessary, then cursed when most of them ended up on the floor. Gritting his teeth, he carefully opened the small package of grated cheese and dumped it in the bowl.

  The spicy scent of their Christmas meal wafted past his nostrils, and he wondered where V had packed the antacids he normally kept on the shelf in the bathroom. The coming conversation was bound to give him a raging case of heartburn.

  “Come and get it, kid!”

  * * * *

  By the end of the first quarter, the Marauders were up by ten. Setting his empty plate beside Lucy’s on the coffee table, Sam sprawled back into the couch and turned his head. “I need to explain some stuff about me and V.”

  “What’s to explain? You like her, and she likes you. Anyone can see that.”

  The sudden compression of his chest felt an awful lot like pleasure, and he frowned. “What do you mean, anyone can see that? What do they see?”

  “The way you tease her, for one.” The tab on her can of pop twanged as she plucked at it with her thumbnail. “Boys always
tease girls they like.”

  His lips quirked with his smile. “They do, do they?”

  “It’s a product of genetics.”

  “Huh?”

  “Human development. I studied it in school. In the early days of man’s development, the cave man simply took what he wanted, and the female put up with it because a strong mate increased her odds of survival. With the advent of modern understanding, females became less inclined to respond to that type of thing, and the male of the species was forced to come up with more acceptable courting behaviors, but they’re guys. Their skills are still basic.”

  He must have looked like he’d been hit over the head with one of those cave man’s clubs, because she rolled her eyes. “It’s true.”

  “What the hell was the name of this class? Male Emasculation?”

  She snickered. “Social Studies.”

  “Taught by a woman, no doubt.”

  “Miss Marston. She’s studying for her master’s in women’s studies at ETU.”

  “That explains it.” He shook his head, but then a thought occurred. Lucy was only fourteen, but a school-girl crush could be a powerful thing. Was there a boy she’d miss when they left for Manhattan? “Is there a particular boy who teases you?”

  “Get real. There are only two things the boys in my class are interested in. Football and the captain of the cheering squad. Jasmine Harris is the prettiest girl in school.”

  He studied his daughter’s narrow face and large doe eyes. She was pure Maggie, with the exception of her midnight hair. Even with the shock of bright purple marring her sleek dark locks, the boys at school would have to be blind not to see how pretty she was. “I know Jasmine and her family. She’s a sweetheart and she is cute, but you’re just as pretty, and you’ve got brains as well.”

  “Thanks for the confidence builder, Sam, but boys aren’t attracted to brains.” She glanced down at her dancer’s body, all slim lines and small breasts. “They can’t see beyond Jasmine’s boobs.”

  Sam cleared his throat. They’d gotten off track and, fuck, the last thing he wanted to discuss were women’s breasts. Especially his teenage daughter’s. “You said V liked me, too. How can you tell, and when did I tease her?”

  “About coming with us to the ballet. She didn’t want you to, you know.”

  Of that, he was certain.

  “You whispered something in her ear while you were helping her with her coat. She blushed. Girls blush over boys they like. That’s genetic, too.” Nodding, she brought the can of pop to her lips. “She likes you.”

  That was definitely pleasure warming his chest cavity, but he thrust the emotion aside. “I like her, too, but last night wasn’t what you think, and I don’t want you reading too much into it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  His gut twisted in knots, and he briefly considered abandoning this discussion to go in search of his missing antacids. “Have you heard anything about V and I dating back in high school since you’ve been in town?”

  “You did?” Clearly curious, she curled her leg beneath her and turned to face him more fully.

  He nodded. “The summer before I left for college.”

  Understanding flashed in her eyes. “That’s why you were kissing her in that picture.”

  Startled by the unexpected comment, he stared at her. “What picture?”

  She tossed her head toward the boxes stacked against the wall. “It was in one of the photo albums V and I packed yesterday. She got all nervous when she saw it, then said it was nothing. That you were just goofing around and someone snapped the picture, but it didn’t look like that to me.”

  Shit, he’d forgotten about the photo albums. They contained more than one picture of the two of them together. Had she browsed through the others? And what did it mean that seeing them made her nervous?

  “It was more than just fooling around. The fact is, I asked V to marry me shortly after she followed me to FSU. We’d planned to marry as soon as the football season was over.”

  “Then what happened? Why didn’t you?” Lucy’s eyes shot wide. “Oh my God. You met my mother that fall.”

  He held up a hand. “Hold on, Luce. I didn’t meet your mother until after V and I had broken up.” Immediately after, but that was a detail she didn’t need to know.

  “Why did you break up?”

  That was the million-dollar question, and one he couldn’t answer. Only V could do that. He shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. You know the story about how I hurt my knee early on in my first season at FSU. V left Florida a couple days later.” He shrugged. “Sometimes relationships don’t work out, and obviously V’s and mine was one of those. To make a long story short, I was pissed and hurt, but life goes on.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair as the second half kicked off on TV. “Your mother and I met about that time, while I was recuperating from my second surgery. A couple of weeks later, I learned V had moved to Boston. We never saw each other again until last week, when she showed up with the Marauders’ offer.”

  Lucy sat quietly for a moment, then asked, “But why did V leave?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to ask her.”

  He went on to explain about Caroline and her concerns about him and V working together, and his plan to put the team owner’s fears at ease. He didn’t bother mentioning the way the people of Barlow had treated V all these years. Lucy liked V, and the truth would only upset her. Somehow, she’d escaped the gossip, and they were leaving for Manhattan in a few days, so what would be the point?

  “So, you’re pretending you and V have worked out your differences by making everyone believe you’re a couple?” She closed her eyes and shook her head as if something had gone loose inside. “Miss Marston was right. Guys are idiots.”

  The incredulous tone of her voice made him cringe. Spoken out loud, the plan sounded ridiculous, even to him, and it was a good thing they were leaving town or he’d be paying the high school a visit to set Lucy’s ultra-feminist social studies teacher straight.

  He sat forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “The job isn’t the only reason, though that’s a big part of it. We have to work together, and I’d prefer we do that in peace, but we didn’t break up, Lucy. V just took off one day. Without a word.”

  Her nose wrinkled in offense. “I don’t know her very well, but she’s nice. That doesn’t sound like something she’d do.”

  Her instant defense of V pricked at his guilt. He’d known V better than anyone and, yet, he’d let his pride blind him to what he should have seen all along. “No, it doesn’t.” He straightened. “I was supposed to love her. Hell, I’d planned to grow old with her, but when she left, I didn’t do a thing to stop her.”

  He sat back and shut his eyes. “Fifteen years ago, I let hurt and anger keep me from doing what I should have done. I should have tracked her down and stuck by her side. I should have helped her deal with whatever problem she was facing.” He opened his eyes and met Lucy’s stark gaze. “I finally got around to asking her what happened yesterday.”

  She spoke in a whisper, as if fearful of his answer. “What did she say?”

  “She fed me a BS line about money and ambition, but I got the feeling, whatever sent her running still has her scared.”

  “Then you have to help her.”

  Sam barked a laugh at the militant gleam in Lucy’s eyes. “That’s my plan, kid.”

  “I want to help, too. What can I do?”

  His heart throbbed in his chest, and he sent a silent “thank you” out into the universe and hoped it reached Maggie. Circumstances beyond his control had conspired with his own regrettable decisions to rob him of the life he’d planned for himself. With the Marauders’ offer, he’d grabbed hold of the career golden ring, but he’d long since given up on the dream of a family. As Kay had said, he’d been given a second chance with V, but regardless of how that turned out, Lucy was his. God help anyo
ne who said she wasn’t.

  He held out his hand, and she immediately grabbed his fingers. Surprised by the tiny prickles stinging the back of his nose and his eyes, he squeezed her hand and smiled.

  “Just be her friend, Luce. That’s what I plan to do, too.”

  Chapter 13

  At seven sharp on Friday morning, V pulled her rental to the curb in front of the rec center. Like much of downtown Barlow—if a quarter-mile of storefronts could be considered a downtown—the architecture of the building was dated. Birthed out of the oil boom of the late fifties, Barlow hadn’t changed much in the sixty years since.

  When V had left town, Thompson’s Bakery had been housed in the glass-fronted space that made up the center today. Old Man Thompson had retired nearly a decade ago, and his only son, Howard, hadn’t wanted anything to do with the business. Neither, apparently, had anyone else. The elder Howard had closed his doors after fifty years and donated the building to the town.

  V spotted her mother through the curb-to-roof glass window as she bent to assist a girl in a pale pink leotard. Struck by the easy smile on her face, V shut off the car. She remembered Anita’s excitement the day she’d called to say the town fathers had accepted her proposal to provide dance lessons to the local kids, and had asked her to run the program.

  Even though she’d been thrilled for her mother, the guilt had nearly strangled V. Dancing was Anita’s passion, and teaching her joy. Because of V, she’d been robbed of both for too many years. And yet, abandoned by the man who had promised to love and honor her, then failed at both, her mother had never once complained. Not even on the day she’d had to walk away from the job she’d loved so much.

  How many times had V heard her father complain that her mother’s dancing didn’t pay enough to keep the lights on? He’d never understood that, for Mom, it hadn’t been about the money. She would have done it for free. But he was right. After he left, the lessons she gave at the small studio two towns away weren’t enough to buy groceries, never mind keep a roof over her and V’s head.