"Your studio?" she asked, sounding intrigued.
"Yeah, I … " Fumbling for his wallet, he yanked out a slip of paper. "I’m a photographer," he reported, handing over his business card.
"Really?" she asked on a delighted smile. "That’s so neat." Taking the card, she read his address and phone number, running her thumb over the raised script. He sucked in a lungful of air as he watched her caress his Harper Studio logo.
"I always wanted to be one of those freelance photographers," he said, his gaze glued to her fingers as they continued to touch his name, "that traveled the world, you know, and get my pictures on the cover of National Geographic. But my sister lives here and she …"
Suddenly remembering Amanda, he did a quick, guilty glance over his shoulder. Did he dare mention her name? If he saw a knowing spark on Mia’s face when he said Amanda Wright, then he’d know. But the funny thing was he didn’t want to know. If she was having an affair with Jeff, he didn’t want to find out just yet and ruin the magical moment they had going.
"It’s funny how things work out sometimes," he added on an uneasy laugh, wondering why the heck he was telling her about his big dream to get away and not pushing for the info Mandy needed.
Her eyes lifted from his card. They seemed to see straight inside him. A sympathetic shimmer glittered in her gaze as if she knew exactly how disappointed he was about some of the decisions he’d made in his life.
"I like to tell myself everything happens for a reason," she said softly. "Every tragedy and hardship and letdown is only setting us up for something great farther down the road."
Drew swallowed; the impact of her words hit him low in his gut. She’d lived tragedy and hardship and letdown he instantly understood.
As if realizing she’d gone too deep, Mia forced a quick smile. A self-conscious laugh trilled from her throat, and he swore he could see moisture gathering in her eyes. "At least I hope that’s the case," she finished, glancing at him with her top teeth digging anxiously into her bottom lip as if she badly needed him to agree.
"I think you must be right," he murmured and saw the hope she’d mentioned clear in her big grey eyes as if she’d just pinned all hers on him.
It was more than he could take.
Wanting to comfort her and not even sure why, he cleared his throat and glanced away, fighting the impulse. "Anyway, my props and equipment at the studio are starting to spill back into my living space and I thought … "
"It was time to expand," she finished on a murmur. Then she smiled, and it was so bright and warm, he wanted to step into her arms and hug her.
She had an incredibly elegant neck. He could picture her tilting it to the side and pushing her silky, straight hair out of the way for the press of a man’s mouth. But it wasn’t Jeff’s head he visualized descending toward that warm pocket of flesh. It was his own.
Clenching his teeth, he glanced away. This was getting out of hand. He’d come to find out if she was Jeffrey’s mistress, not to flirt with her himself.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a telephone rang from inside her house, interrupting him.
Mia’s eyes widened. "I better get that," she said and started to turn away, only to stop at the last moment. Her smile was hesitant and demure. "I hope everything works out with the house," she told him, glancing toward the For Sale sign.
He nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."
"It was nice meeting you."
"You too."
He remained standing there, watching her scurry up the steps and through the front door. As she disappeared, he ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath, uneasy about the lies he’d just fed her.
Thinking it was time to get out of there before he made a complete fool of himself and confessed everything, he turned toward Mandy’s Civic and jogged his way back across the street.
As he climbed into the passenger seat, he gave the breathless command. "Go!"
Amanda shifted the car into drive and hurried down the street.
Glancing one last time over his shoulder, he took in the fading view of 410 South Elm, dolefully aware he’d never see it or its resident again.
"Well?" Mandy asked.
Drew turned in his seat and stared blankly out the front window. "I think I’m in love."
Chapter Two
"Drew!" Amanda swung an arm out and smacked him hard in the shoulder. "How could you?"
Drew winced and rubbed his arm. "What?"
"That woman is involved with my husband and you—"
"Now, that hasn’t been confirmed yet."
"How could you even think about it?"
How could he not?
"Just tell me what happened?" she said, rubbing at the center of her forehead. "Besides you giving her your phone number?"
"I did not give her—" He paused. Oops. "Look. All I did was act like I was interested in buying the house next door. I gave her the business card to let her know I was legit and not some axe murderer stalking her."
"And what did she say to that?"
He shrugged, feeling as he if was betraying some kind of confidence with a woman he didn’t even know. "Mandy, I seriously doubt she’s seeing Jeffrey, okay. She just … she doesn’t seem the type. Mia doesn’t come across as some kind of mistress. She’s too—"
"Mia. Her name’s Mia?"
Sighing, he held up a hand. "She didn’t put off any vibes that would make me think she’d ever mess with a married man. Okay? She was way too shy and reserved. I’d be more inclined to believe Jeffrey has a thing for her but she doesn’t return the sentiment."
"Oh, thanks a lot," his sister groused, pushing a glare his way. "Make my husband look like the bad guy why don’t you?"
Drew cringed, realizing he was doing just that. "Maybe he did send her the flowers," he continued anyway. "Maybe he wants an affair." Who could really blame a guy for growing interested in Mia? "But she doesn’t seem like the type to date a married man."
Amanda ground her teeth and looked like she might strangle him. But after a thoughtful moment, her shoulders slumped. "So, maybe she doesn’t know he’s married," she finally relented, looking depressed to admit. "That doesn’t mean he’s not seeing her."
Drew didn’t answer. He didn’t want to believe that scenario. The idea of Jeff anywhere near his—
"I should’ve talked to her myself," Amanda muttered as she pulled into her own driveway and fumbled for her garage door opener.
He glanced across the car to find his sister wiping at her eyes. "Mandy?" he said, realizing how inconsiderate he was being. He was such a tactless moron.
She didn’t acknowledge him until she’d parked and turned the engine off. Then she twisted to send him a teary-eyed look.
Melting, he opened his arms. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—"
"Oh, Drew," she sobbed, hurtling herself over the parking brake. Once he pulled her into his embrace and she rested her head on his shoulder, she sniffed. "What am I going to do?"
He had no idea. He’d never been married, never even entered a serious relationship. And besides, Mandy was always the one he went to for advice. Not the other way around. She never asked him how to handle anything. This was foreign territory.
Smoothing her hair back so it’d stop tickling him in the nose, he asked, "Have you talked to Jeff yet?"
She shook her head, stuffing more curls up his nostrils in the process, very nearly making him sneeze.
"Well, don’t you think you need to address the situation with him?"
Snorting, she answered, "Like he’d tell me if it was true."
Yeah, but … "Maybe there really is a good explanation," he tried. "Maybe someone lost a loved one at work and it was his turn to send the flowers. This could mean anything."
"Roses? To someone who’d just lost a loved one?" Amanda asked skeptically.
"Well, maybe—"
"Drew," Mandy cut in, pulling back to frown at him through her raccoon eyes. "You’re not helping."
Resisting t
he urge to wipe at her dripping mascara, he sent her sympathetic look. "I’m just trying to remind you there are other alternatives. A flower delivery doesn’t automatically mean—"
"He won’t be with me. In the bedroom."
Well.
That stopped Drew in his tracks. Letting out an uncomfortable laugh, he lifted a hand. "Really, Mandy. I don’t need to hear every—"
"Last night," she went on. "I took a bubble bath before bed, put on some slinky lingerie and perfume. For once in my life, I was actually in the mood. But when I kissed him, he pulled away and said he was tired." Giving Drew an intense look, she said, "That’s not normal for a guy, is it?"
"Uh." It’d never happened to him before, no. But he’d never been in such a committed relationship before either. As an unattached bachelor, he usually took what he could get when he could get it. "Maybe he’s going through a mid life crisis," he suggested.
He wasn’t sure why defending his brother-in-law seemed so important. Probably because he didn’t want to see Amanda cry anymore. Plus he didn’t want to think of Jeff that way. Jeff was as much his big brother as Mandy was his sister. He’d known the guy since he was fifteen. Jeff had coached him through the last part of his puberty, given him advice on girls, and basically acted as his stand-in dad.
He’d say anything to stop the possibility of his sister and brother-in-law splitting up. Anything to give her hope.
"We haven’t been together in over three months," Amanda reported despondently.
Drew winced again. But really, did he have to hear about his sister’s intimate life?
"I hadn’t even realized," she continued, oblivious to his discomfort. "But yesterday at work, I overheard this woman relaying a date to one of her friends, detailing what this guy had done with her and … " she shrugged. "I thought it sounded interesting. So, I wanted to try it with Jeffrey." She wiped at her eyes. "I knew it’d been a while. We’re certainly not newlyweds and we do have three children. But, as I was primping, I realized we hadn’t done anything since his birthday, which was in the beginning of February. That was a good three and half months ago, Drew. Jeffrey’s never waited three months for as long as I’ve—"
"Honestly, Mandy!" Drew broke in. "I believe you." Please don’t elaborate.
"There has to be another woman," she whispered, looking beseechingly at him as if she needed Drew to do something about it.
Not sure what he was supposed to say, he stared back and dropped his shoulders. The only thing he could think to do was deny, deny, deny. "Maybe he’s … you know, impotent. I mean, if that were the case, then yeah, of course he’d be too embarrassed to tell you about it. I’d probably stick with the whole I’m-too-tired bit too."
Looking thoughtful, Mandy chewed on her lip. "You think?"
He nodded vigorously. "I really believe you need to sit him down and have a serious conversation. What you did today was crazy. You’ve been married to this man for … how long now?"
"Twelve years."
"Twelve years!" Drew supplied, sounding incredulous. "Don’t you think you owe him the benefit of the doubt?"
Amanda blew out a long, depressed sigh. "But something’s wrong, Drew. I just know it. I can feel it every time he’s around. Something is wrong."
"Then go to him and find out what it is," he urged, taking her hand and hoping this was the best advice, because if Jeffrey really was sleeping around, Drew was going to have a few words of his own with the dirt bag.
For twelve years, Jeff had kept Mandy happy enough. That was all that mattered to Drew. But Mandy didn’t look happy now. She looked heartbroken.
Since she was blood, he picked sides without even thinking. In the blink of an eye, his view of Jeff changed. No one hurt his sister and got away with it.
Reaching out, he smoothed out a piece of hair sticking to her forehead. "Why don’t you go inside and take a nap."
She shook her head wearily. "I can’t. The kids—"
"Don’t worry about them. I’ll pick everyone up from school and day care," he offered. "We’ll go out for ice cream or something. Just come get them at my house whenever you’re better. You need some time to put yourself back together."
"What? Am I a mess?" Instinctively, she glanced in the rearview mirror. When she saw the black blotches under her eyes, she groaned.
As he watched her wipe with a vengeance, he said, "I’ll keep them until Jeff gets home and you’ve talked to him."
•
Mia hurried back toward the front door as soon as she hung up with the telemarketer. Anxious to return to the man calling himself Drew Harper, she pushed though the screen and immediately slowed to a disappointed halt.
He was gone. It was like he’d never even been there.
Hopeful, she stepped even farther outside and scanned either side of the sidewalk.
When she remembered she still held his business card, she looked down and blew out a relieved breath.
Okay, so he hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. At least that was something. She wasn’t turning into a schizo. Always a plus.
But where had he gone? And why had he fled so quickly?
Assuming she’d probably freaked him out by her weird comment about every tragedy happening for a reason, she groaned. How lame could she get? Finally, there’d been a guy looking at her like she was a normal, average woman, like a woman he could become interested in, like there was nothing wrong with her. And for a brief moment, she’d actually felt like that woman.
She wasn’t though. Not by a long shot.
After attending an appointment with her grief counselor, Mia was glad she’d already decided to take the rest of afternoon off work.
Dr. Higgins hadn’t been so patient and understanding today, though his voice had been kind enough and his face full of compassion when he’d said, "Mia, you’ve been coming to me for a year now. I think it’s time for us to progress to the next step."
His words induced her heart to thump rapidly against her ribcage. Her hands clenched instinctively in her lap. Panic rose in her throat and her breathing escalated. With no idea how she managed a calm façade, she licked her dry lips and asked, "Wha-what’s the next step," though, honestly, she already knew.
She knew every step, had learned and memorized them to the point she could write the entire grief booklet herself. She could even tell which step she was caught on.
Acceptance. The last and final stage. It snagged her every time.
Like clockwork, she’d wound her way through the other four and passed each milestone, silently but steadily plodding forward.
But moving on with life, admitting she was a real person, becoming whole again, accepting. That was her ball-dropper every time. She couldn’t stop the anxiety clogging her veins whenever she tried to tackle that particular goal. And how could she? It was her fault her baby was dead, her responsibility to make sure Lexie—
Refusing to go there, Mia brought up a picture of Drew Harper in her mind and sucked in a calming breath.
What had it been about him? They’d barely spoken for five minutes. But out of nowhere, there’d been this guy with dark, curly hair who needed to shave, looming in front of her. And tackling step five suddenly didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. No one had ever, ever, made her feel that cured before.
But now he was gone, the moment passed, and she was still miserable Mia Stallone, stuck on the last step of bereavement and forever guilty over killing her infant daughter.
As she picked up her fallen water can, a red convertible zipped into the drive and parked behind Mia’s grey Nissan. Tucking the water pot against her ribs, she smiled softly as the dark-headed five-foot-nine goddess sprang from the driver’s seat
"Hey, chickie," her roommate called, grinning as she bound toward the entrance. "You’re home early."
"I took the afternoon off," Mia answered, jealousy nibbling at her. But how could she help it? Piper was so vivacious, happy. Alive. "I had a meeting with Dr. Higgins today."
Piper’s smile faltered, but she didn’t let it waver long. Eyes flickering with curiosity, she asked, "How’d that go?"
Mia nodded. "Good." After giving her usual answer, her roommate didn’t ask anymore about it.
Instead, Piper paused and took in Mia’s face, frowning thoughtfully. "Hmm," she murmured.
"What?" Mia said, growing uncomfortable under her friend’s intense inspection.
"You’re …" Piper scowled harder as she scratched at her scalp. "Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were glowing."
Mia swallowed, and her face heated as a vision of Drew Harper flared through her.
Piper’s jaw dropped. "Oh, wow," she murmured in astonishment. "What happened? Did your appointment with the therapist go that good?"
Blushing even harder, Mia shook her head. "No, I …" She had to glance away as she mumbled, "I just met a guy."
Piper froze. Her eyes widened fractionally. Shaking her head she said, "I’m sorry. You what?"
Mia grinned, suddenly very light and animated.
"Oh …" Piper whispered. "Oh! That’s wonderful." Leaping into action, she pulled Mia into a hearty hug, holding her tight. She smelled of the beauty salon where she worked.
As the aroma of hair dye and perming solutions enveloped her, Mia stood absolutely still, trying not to let the contact bother her. She hadn’t enjoyed hugs since the tragedy. People who slept on while their child suffocated to death didn’t deserve to be hugged. Though she couldn’t take it any longer, she bit her lip and refused to squirm, hoping she didn’t insult her friend by pulling away.
Thank God Piper sensed her tension. Quickly stepping back, she gasped, "Sorry." She apologetically patted Mia’s arm and retreated even more, giving Mia space.
"No, I’m sorry," Mia started. "I—"
"Stop apologizing. Just … " Piper waved her hands, exuding impatience. "Tell me about this guy."
Mia blew out a breath. "His name’s Drew."
"Drew." Her roommate grinned. "I like it. What’s he look like? Where’d you meet him? Did he ask you out?"