Читать книгу Reunion By The Sea - Jo Leigh - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

STILL IN HER ratty old robe, Ginny left her makeup spread out across her bathroom counter and went to the kitchen to pour herself a third cup of coffee. She hoped the extra caffeine wouldn’t make her jittery, but without another dose she’d be nodding off by lunchtime.

Ha. She should be so lucky.

It had been a mistake talking to Cricket. Ginny felt awful for wasting her friend’s time. Not only had she jumped the gun, but she’d been unwilling to give Cricket all the facts. Ginny’s only excuse was that she had panicked the moment she’d seen Parker. And now, after a poor night’s sleep, she wasn’t any more ready to face the day. Just knowing he could show up at the resort at any minute wreaked havoc with her nervous system.

This was supposed to have been a fun weekend, a time to catch up and relax with her friends. Social media was great in so many ways, but nothing beat seeing everyone in person. And being able to show them more pictures of Tilda.

She’d been looking forward to the reunion for weeks.

She’d actually made peace with the fact that Meg wouldn’t be making an appearance. Once Meg had hooked up with Danny all those years ago, her fate had been sealed. So Ginny had been prepared for her absence. Parker, though...nothing could’ve prepared Ginny for him.

Her heart had actually raced with excitement, just like it had when she was eighteen. Then, as the ramifications of him finding out about Tilda had begun to sink in, panic and nerves had taken over. Now, even without adequate sleep, she realized she’d overreacted. Even if he were to meet Tilda, which she didn’t see happening, it didn’t mean he’d make the leap that he and Tilda were related.

After filling her cup and adding sugar, she leaned against the counter, staring out the window. Jade had arrived late last night. When it came to causing trouble she’d always led the pack. Ginny smiled. Her mind wouldn’t have time to wander with Jade around.

The doorbell rang.

Sighing, Ginny took another sip before going to answer it. She knew it was Rodney from next door. Practically every Saturday he conveniently hit a ball over her fence and needed to enter the property. She had no idea what was so interesting about her side of the—

It wasn’t Rodney. Through the long, narrow window she saw Parker standing at the door. And he most definitely saw her. No pretending she wasn’t home. But having the reunion as an excuse, she figured she could get rid of him quickly.

Gripping the knob, she took a deep breath and then opened the door. “Parker. This is a surprise.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging. “I would’ve called first if I’d had your number.”

And he couldn’t have taken the hint?

Instead of pointing that out, she held on to a polite smile. He wore jeans again, but they were dark blue and went well with the green polo shirt tucked in at his slim waist.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked. “I won’t stay long, and I come bearing gifts.” He held up a white paper bag, probably from Gustav’s. Great. The bakery was off-limits to her.

“Okay,” she drawled. “Honestly, I only have a few minutes. I was just on my way out.”

As she stepped back, holding the door wide, his gaze slid down the front of her body.

Wondering about the flicker of amusement in his eyes as he walked past her, she looked down at herself...

Her faded, oversize granny robe had to be a hundred years old. On the left side was a hole you could drive a truck through, and it was so long the hem dragged on the floor behind her.

She bit back a whimper.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, she remembered that she’d made it through only half of her makeup ritual. She had to look like a stupid clown. Good. Maybe he’d leave sooner.

Ginny clutched the front of her robe, making sure there were no gaps, and gestured for him to go into the living room. Tilda always teased her about the robe, pointing out she was too old to have a security blanket. Her daughter wasn’t too far off the mark. The robe was Ginny’s go-to when she was sick or upset or just feeling a bit blue.

“I smell coffee,” Parker said. “Any chance I can get a cup?”

“Sure, although if you use cream you’re out of luck. All we have is milk.”

His brows drew together in the oddest frown. “We?”

Ginny swallowed. Hard. “My daughter,” she said, and saw him glance toward the hall. “She’s camping with friends this weekend.” Ginny cleared her throat. “I’ll go get your coffee.”

Too frazzled to think straight, she swept a swift gaze around the room as she headed for the kitchen. Sitting on the bookshelf closest to the piano were two framed pictures of Tilda, one from when she was five and the other from her twelfth birthday. They were in plain sight. Nothing short of a miracle would stop him from looking at them, which would lead to questions Ginny didn’t want to answer.

Her hand shook as she poured him a cup, and she cursed under her breath when some of the hot brew burned her fingers.

“Here, let me get that...” His voice came from close behind.

She jerked, spilling half the coffee onto her hand and the floor. She clamped her lips together.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said quietly and took the cup from her. After setting it on the counter, he picked up her hand and inspected the red skin.

“It’s nothing.”

“Do you have any ointment handy?”

He’d shaved, she realized, doing some close inspecting of her own. The dimple on his chin was more visible, and the sudden urge to rub her thumb over it had her pulling her hand back.

“It’s fine,” she said and returned the carafe to the coffee station, then went to the fridge. The second she opened it she remembered the milk was already on the counter.

“Okay to use this?”

She turned to find him holding up the kitchen rag she left draped on the dishwasher handle. She nodded and watched him crouch to wipe the coffee off the hardwood floor. “Do you clean windows too?”

Glancing up, he grinned. “With the right motivation, you bet.”

Oh, no, she wasn’t taking the bait. She gave him a slight smile and slid the small ceramic pot of sugar toward him as he rose. “Thanks,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the floor.

He eyed the nearly empty coffee carafe.

“I’d offer to make more, but I know you don’t have much time. Go ahead and finish it up. It’s still fresh.”

“I brought something from Gustav’s...”

“I guessed,” Ginny said, sighing.

Parker paused, the amusement in his eyes hard to miss. “The bag’s in the living room. Are we going back out there, or should I go get it?”

“Yes, please.”

His brows went up.

“Let’s stay here.” Maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t noticed the photos. Knowing she had a daughter was one thing. Knowing her daughter’s age, well, that was something else altogether.

She went ahead and scooped up the remainder of the beans she’d ground earlier, enough for at least half a pot. Anything from Gustav’s required coffee as an accompaniment. And not just any brew but the really good stuff, of which she was always sure to have a vast supply.

Parker returned quickly and made himself at home finding the small plates and setting them on the table along with forks and napkins.

She was dying to know what he’d brought, but she wouldn’t ask. As soon as the coffee started to brew she turned to him. He swiftly brought his gaze up to eye level. The robe...

When he pulled a chair out from the table for her, she bit her lip as she sat down. Why was this suddenly feeling like the Last Supper?

“Go ahead and open the bag,” he said, as he took a seat across from her.

“I’m not sure I should be starting the day with sugar,” she murmured, even as she reached for the sack. “I drank more alcohol last night than I typically drink in a whole year.”

“You don’t look hungover.”

Ginny peeked inside the bag and groaned. “I love anything Gustav makes, but the cardamom rolls are my absolute favorite.”

“I know.”

She frowned at his pleased smile. “How?”

“I asked.” Parker shrugged. “I figured someone behind the counter would know you.”

“I haven’t been in there for months.” Sniffing, she tore the bag open. She had no willpower when it came to all the ridiculous pastries they offered.

“Why not? Have you been touring?”

She put the roll on her plate and pushed the bag at him, her appetite diminishing suddenly. Something in his piercing blue eyes told her he already knew the answer to that question. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’d been asking around about her. Despite the hordes of tourists and all the summer people, the locals managed to stay tight and connected.

“Touring?” She stared right back at him. “I teach piano. Here at the house. Five days a week.”

“That’s what I heard. I just didn’t believe it.”

“Why not? I make a respectable living, and I have a number of kids who are very serious students.”

“That’s not—I’m sure that’s true.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “You had dreams, Ginny, big dreams, about Juilliard and about life after Juilliard. And rightfully so. We talked about them, remember? You’re too talented to be...giving piano lessons...”

Heat crawled up her throat and exploded in her face. The anger and hurt building inside her nearly frightened her into silence. “What about you?” she asked, holding on to her temper by a thread. “Since we’re discussing our dreams. Did you ever go on to law school? Are you the big shot, crime-fighting attorney you intended to be?”

“Come on, Ginny. I’m not criticizing you, and I’m sure not looking for an argument.” He reached across the table for her hand but she snatched it away and clasped her hands together on her lap.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Okay. You’re right. I didn’t go to law school. I didn’t even finish Princeton.”

Ginny had willfully done the poking. She should’ve been satisfied with his weary expression of defeat as he leaned back in his chair. Why on earth hadn’t he finished Princeton? He’d been doing well and was so excited. Had he dropped out because of Meg?

Regret lasted only until she remembered they’d been talking about her broken dreams. She hadn’t prompted the discussion, he had. And whether or not he’d meant to sound critical, how she chose to live her life was none of his business. He’d lost that right the day he’d made love to her, then disappeared just hours later without a word. At least she hadn’t brought that up.

“Well, I gotta say, that’s not how I imagined embarking on my explanation,” he said with a faint smile.

The coffee had finished brewing.

She stood up, scanning the counter until she located her cup. She grabbed it and the carafe, relieved to see her hands weren’t shaking too badly. If she let him say his piece now, maybe he’d leave. Go back to wherever it was he’d come from. At the very least, she wouldn’t have to be looking over her shoulder all weekend. Nevertheless, she wasn’t about to let this conversation go on too long.

After they each had a steaming cup in front of them, she sat down. “An explanation?”

Parker nodded. “For leaving the way I did.”

Ginny calmly took a sip—then set the cup down. “You don’t owe me anything. It was a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t matter. I do owe you, and I need to get it off my chest. So, humor me?” He gave her that sexy smile she remembered all too well.

After he’d left, how many nights had she spent weeping over that bone-melting smile that had gotten her in trouble with him in the first place. And now it was making a mockery of her defenses. Darn him.

It just wasn’t fair. She wasn’t a naive eighteen-year-old anymore and she didn’t give a fig about making him feel better... “All right, go ahead.” She dragged her gaze away to look at the wall clock. Mostly, so she wouldn’t be dazzled by that stupid smile. “You have five minutes.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice lowered. “I mean it.”

“Four minutes and fifty-six seconds.”

His deep, raspy chuckle was almost as bad as the smile. “First, I want you to know it wasn’t my decision to leave. I didn’t have a choice.”

That tactic wouldn’t work on her. Ginny believed everyone had choices. Sometimes they weren’t popular or easy, and the consequences could be life changing. She doubted anyone understood that concept better than she did.

“My dad used to work for the DEA,” Parker said, then paused to take a quick sip of his coffee.

“Wait. Not when you all lived here. He was an insurance investigator, right? Or was it a claims adjuster?”

“Neither. He’d been working undercover for a while by the time we moved to Temptation Bay. Meg probably told you the same story we were fed.”

“I wondered why he was gone so much,” Ginny said, mostly to herself. “Meg hated it.”

“We both did. Mom too. According to what she told me later, it wasn’t a problem at first. The assignments were low-level drug busts that kept him away for a week or two at the most. Then, as he became more involved tracking down an East Coast heroine distribution ring out of Florida, his boss kept sending him deeper into the organization. Usually for months at a time. At one point he was gone almost a year.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “How was that possible? Didn’t you question where he was?”

“Of course, but my mom covered for him. Once she said he was away for job training. Another time he was supposed to have gone to Texas to investigate a case of fraud.” Parker shrugged. “We were young when it started and got used to the absences.”

“Not Meg,” Ginny said half to herself, her gaze straying toward the window. “It bothered her a lot.” Ginny thought back to the week before her friend had disappeared, when she’d begun her downward spiral. “Was that why your parents were getting a divorce?”

Parker looked taken aback. “There hadn’t been any talk of divorce. My mom would’ve mentioned it. Personally, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had left him,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

This time it was Ginny who was caught off guard. Mr. Nolan hadn’t just been Meg’s idol, he’d been Parker’s, as well. “About a week before Meg went missing she overheard your parents arguing. She told me your dad was having an affair and leaving for good.”

Parker’s brow furrowed. “I remember you telling me she’d heard them talking. It was the day before he left for Colombia. But I don’t think you mentioned anything about an affair.”

Holding her breath, Ginny shrugged. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember what she’d told him and what she’d hidden at the time. “I can’t recall specifics.”

“No reason you should.” He let out a weary sigh. “Too bad he didn’t leave for good. It would’ve been better all the way around.”

Ginny hid behind her cup of coffee as pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. Studying the lines of tension bracketing Parker’s mouth, the hardness in his expression, she was still curious about his animosity toward his dad. Everything had happened so long ago but Parker looked as if he’d just awoken from the nightmare. “The night you and your mom disappeared...?”

Parker’s features eased. “The agency was afraid Dad’s cover had been blown, and that Meg’s disappearance had something to do with it.”

“You mean, they thought she’d been kidnapped?”

“Or worse. It was a while before we found out she’d just run away.”

Ginny knew there was a lot more to that story, but clearly Meg had elected not to share it with her family so neither would she. However, she still had questions. But did she dare ask? Getting him on his way was her top priority. Leaving the past in the past was her safest move. She didn’t need to slip up and say something that would raise questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Ever.

“Ginny...” He leaned across the table and brushed his fingers over the back of her hand. “I didn’t want to leave like that. Without saying goodbye, or at least explaining what was going on. It happened so quickly, and my mom...she was a mess, and at that point I was all she had.”

Nodding, Ginny managed a smile. “You could’ve called me later...when things weren’t so crazy.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Just to tell me you were okay.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“It doesn’t matter now. I don’t know why I said that.” Good grief. Couldn’t she listen to her own counsel? She moved her hand back and brushed the hair away from her face.

“Ginny, please...”

She stood rather abruptly. “I guess you’ll be taking off soon.” She didn’t offer him any more coffee and put her cup in the sink. “Oh, I should’ve asked...how’s your mom?”

“Happily remarried. Living in Idaho.” Parker got to his feet and must’ve noticed Ginny’s startled reaction. “The old man’s been dead for fourteen years.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Ginny’s breath caught at the detached look on Parker’s face. A wave of sadness washed over her. The Nolans had once been a close family, despite Mr. Nolan’s frequent absences, and the senseless tragedy of the situation broke her heart.

“Hey, you okay?” In seconds Parker was at her side.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just—I can’t begin to imagine all the pain you and your mom went through. And for nothing. So much could’ve been avoided if only Meg had said something.” He was standing close, his rugged good looks and musky scent emphasizing how different he was from the earnest, clean-cut young man she’d fallen for all those years ago.

“Sure, Meg lit the match by taking off like she did, but there was more to it.” Bitterness tinged Parker’s voice. “Turns out Dad, the big hero, wasn’t the man we all thought he was.”

Ginny didn’t know what that meant but she wasn’t about to ask him now. Her stomach churned when she realized she’d played a part in all the devastation. In her misguided loyalty to Meg, she hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with Parker and the police about what she’d known at the time. It wasn’t much, and probably wouldn’t have mattered in the long run, but still... “Did Meg’s disappearance have anything to do with you dropping out of Princeton?”

Something about the set of Parker’s shoulders, the flicker of disappointment and defeat in his eyes before the mask slipped back into place, made her want to hold him close, offer him comfort. The impulse was beyond insane. That hadn’t turned out so well the last time. Knowing she could’ve made things worse by her silence had her stomach clenching.

“Nothing went the way I planned after all that happened. But it’s worked out fine. Now I have different expectations and a lot fewer disappointments.”

The trace of rancor in his tone made her feel even worse. If only she’d said something. Anything. Light-headed suddenly, Ginny swayed a little and used the counter for support.

Parker put his arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I think the coffee might not be agreeing with me.” She didn’t resist. It felt good being held by him again. Too good, she thought as she laid her cheek against the warmth of his chest. Only because she couldn’t look into his eyes. At least that’s what she told herself.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered, his arms tightening ever so gently. “I was young, angry and stupid. And too self-absorbed. I should’ve called.”

Ginny didn’t dare move. Or speak. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She refused to let them fall though. Thinking she heard the front door open, she stiffened.

“Don’t get out the shotgun. It’s just me.”

Tilda.