Lake Effect (12 page)

She was on a roll now, warming to her subject. It didn't hurt that both men sat on the edge of their seats, looking at her plans with great interest.

“The back lawn here is sweeping, plenty of room for a formal garden — several, actually. This would create a natural draw for the many native and migrating bird species as well as provide fresh flowers for the house and guest suites. In addition to that, you could host weddings, retreats and invite authors up. Really, there is no limit to the different events.”

“Shelby, this is very well thought out. I don't know about you, Wyeth, but I am totally impressed.” James sat beaming at her and she returned his smile. Why couldn't Wyeth be so easy to like? The look on his face was anything but joyful.

“I see you've kept the reflecting pool.” His eyes burned into hers and there was no turning away. For a moment James and the rest of the world didn't exist.

“Yes, all proper gardens should have one. I think it would be a nice selling point and a great place to have pictures taken. Don't you?”

“Oh yes, most certainly. Of course, we'll have to be careful, I'd hate to see anyone fall in it and ruin their clothing.”

Insufferable smartass!

Wyeth picked up the sample menu she'd painted and hand lettered herself. Would he find it too amateur or would he see the sophistication she was aiming for?

“This is really lovely.” He held it up to her and passed it over to James. He held her in his gaze a few moments more.

“Cashew, blueberry pancakes?” James said. “Shelby, I think you need to start practicing this breakfast menu while we're in town!” So they wouldn't be staying. Good. The less she had to see Wyeth and his pregnant lover around, the better it would be.

“Gentlemen, would you excuse me, please?” She had to walk out of there for a moment. If Wyeth looked at her that way again she was going to combust. Both men stood as she exited the room and headed for the main floor bathroom. She rounded the corner from the study, a sense of relief at putting some distance between herself and Wyeth even if it was temporary. Once in the hallway, she was able to calm her racing heart and pull herself back together.

“Are you okay?”

Shelby raised her head and stared at the stunningly beautiful woman standing in front of her. “I'm fine. I just needed to step out of there for a moment. I guess my nerves are getting the better of me.” She tried not to stare at the dark haired — and very pregnant — woman. “How far along are you?” Shelby didn't really want to know the answer to that question. It was obvious without doing the math that this woman had already been pregnant when Wyeth had made love to her at the cottage in June.

“Seven months, but it feels like ten. I'm just exhausted all the time.”

Her easy smile and kind demeanor really caught Shelby off guard. She didn't want to like this woman.

“I'm sorry I missed your presentation. Wyeth has told me so much about you. I really wanted to see what you'd put together. I thought I'd feel better after a rest.” Shelby noted the way the woman's hand went protectively to her stomach.

“I hope you feel better soon.” She left the woman smiling in the hallway and made her way back to the study to gather her things. She needed to get the hell out of here and quickly.

Thankfully the room was empty when she returned. Taking full advantage of the moment, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

“Are you leaving?” James's stunned voice caught her from behind just as she opened the front door.

“Yes, I'm sorry, I'm suddenly not feeling well, I need to go.” Without turning around or giving any heed to his concerned offer of a ride home, she bolted out the door and to her car. A wave of nausea washed over her. This was too much to ask, this was the cruelest twist of fate there ever could be. She let the tears fall unchecked all the way home.

Lightning ripped through the autumn sky with the promise of yet another storm, and she parked her car just as the first large icy drops started to fall in earnest. She fumbled with her keys and just caught the screen door as a large gust of wind tugged at it. Opening the door, she wasn't prepared for Norman who bolted out and into the night.

“Shit!” Hastily she tossed her purse in the door and turned back out into the oncoming storm to find her dog.

• • •

“You just let her walk out? Was she okay? Dammit, James, I was only out of the room for a minute.” Wyeth raked his hand through his hair.

“Shy of physically restraining her, I don't see what else I could've done. She said she wasn't feeling well, grabbed her purse and bolted. I only just caught her at the door.”

Janele came around the corner and into the study. “What's the matter?” She looked first at her husband then her brother. “Have you two fools managed to chase her away already?”

“She thinks you're Abby,” Wyeth answered quietly without looking at his sister.

“She
what
? And I suppose you just let her keep on thinking that? Wyeth, what the hell is the matter with you? James, did you know about this?” Janele looked accusingly at her husband who had the grace to look at the floor.

“I was going to tell her. I thought we'd all have a good laugh about it this evening.” Wyeth looked at his sister and waited for her response.

“Why was she dressed like that, Wyeth?”

“I ran into her here at the house today and I might have suggested that she dress to impress.”

Janele surprised him by bursting into laughter. “You're an idiot, and this entire charade has carried on too far. I suggest you pick up the phone and set the record straight, or let the best thing that's ever happened to you disappear.” James started to speak but stopped when his wife held up her hand. “You have no excuse whatsoever.” She left the two of them standing in the study.

• • •

Wyeth put his cell back in his pocket. Clearly the wind and rain had knocked the lines down and calling wasn't going to be an option. James had gone up to make amends. He looked out the study window as the storm raged on. Lightening lit up the expansive yard. There, silhouetted against the dark night, stood Norman, soaked and barking.

Wyeth pulled open the door to the mudroom and called. The dog came right in.

“Now what are you doing out in this weather? Does your mother know?” Wyeth stilled his hands on the big dog's back. She's probably frantic with worry over the dog and upset by Wyeth's callousness. His sister was right; he was an idiot.

“C'mon, big guy, let's get you home where you belong.”

Norman was having none of it. He walked past Wyeth and found his way straight into the study as if he knew this house better than anyone. He plopped himself right in front of the fireplace, let out a big sigh, and closed his eyes.

Wyeth yelled up the steps so no one would be surprised at finding a large dog in the house, grabbed his keys, and headed out to tell Shelby. He was just rounding a curve when he saw her. Her head bent against the wind and rain, the heavy sweater she'd worn weighing her down further. He slammed his car into park and ran out to her.

“Oh, Wyeth, it's Norman, he bolted out into the storm and I can't find him anywhere. Can you help me find him, please?”

The desperation in her voice cut straight through to his heart.

“He's at the manor house. I let him in and dried him off, he's okay. C'mon, I'll take you to him.” A look of relief washed over her face and he barely had time to catch her as her knees buckled. He picked her up and put her in the car. He had to get her dry and warm and quickly. They were closer to her house than his. He pointed his car in that direction, pulled into her drive, then carefully carried her in. Thankfully she'd left her door unlocked in her haste to find the dog.

He carried her straight up the steps and into her bedroom. Memories of the last time he'd been in that room washed over him. So much had happened since that wonderful night. So much had gone so wrong due to speculation and the lack of communication. Wyeth had had enough of that. This time she was going to listen to him. Carefully, he stripped the wet clothing from her body. The important thing now was to get her warm and conscious.

Holding her in his arms, he grabbed a towel from her bathroom, then finding nothing nearby to dress her in, opened her closet door. There he found several men's white dress shirts. A picture of her hugging the man with the silver Jaguar came unbidden into his head. He pushed it away and got back to the business at hand.

Once he'd dried her, dressed her, and tucked her in under several layers of clothing, he headed downstairs. He needed a cup of coffee and to get his own clothes in the dryer or he'd be sick himself. He sent a quick text to James and Janele to tell them where he was and to check on Norman. Thankfully, cell service no longer seemed to be hindered by the weather. He smiled as James told him the collie had moved from the floor to the sofa where Janele was lavishing him with attention and a few goodies leftover from dinner.

It was one o'clock in the morning by the time Wyeth's clothes were dry. He made himself another cup of coffee and went back up to check on Shelby.

He pulled the straight back chair she kept by her vanity around to the side of the bed. He tucked the covers in around her for a second time, straddled the chair backwards, picked up his coffee, and watched her as she slept. This time he resisted the urge to run his fingers through her hair for fear of waking her. He could sit here all night watching her sleep. She was beautiful, and he was going to tell her that the moment her eyes opened.

Shelby woke up to find her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. After slowly prying it away, she blindly reached for the glass of water by her bed. As she latched onto it her mind registered several things at once. This glass was glass, not plastic like it usually was, and it was cold, as if it'd just come out of the fridge. It wasn't until her brain registered that someone else had a grip on it that her eyes flew open. Sitting backward across a chair by the side of her bed was Wyeth Packard, looking as if he'd been awake all night and sexy beyond all belief.

She tried to swallow but her throat was painfully dry. He motioned once again to the glass they were both holding onto. Carefully, she raised the glass to her lips then closed her eyes as ice cold orange juice mixed with lemon-lime soda slid into her mouth, immediately erasing her pain and thirst in one smooth move.

“Better?” His voice sounded husky and tired.

“Yes, thank you. Did you?” She motioned to the shirt she was wearing and watched as a grin broke over his face as he slowly nodded. A blush crept up her neck.

“Norman?”

“At my house. Last time I checked, he was lounging on the sofa eating out of my sister's hand.”

“Oh.” She nodded in understanding and then looked at him again as what he'd said registered in her brain.

“Your sister?”

He grinned at her again.

“Yes, my very pregnant sister, Janele.” He was ready for the pillow she threw at his head and grabbed her around her waist as she bolted from the bed and tried to fly past him.

“No you don't. You're really good at running away, Shelby, but right now you're going to sit and hear me out, even if I have to tie you to this chair.”

“I have to use the bathroom.”

He released her. “You have two minutes.”

She muttered something about his being a control freak and went in, closing the door behind her. She let out a slight scream as she realized the only thing she was wearing was Jack's dress shirt.

“Everything okay?” She could hear the bastard chuckling on the other side of the door. “Can I get you something?” Oh, he was enjoying this.

“Second drawer down, a pair of sweats and, um, some underwear, please.” Good grief, this was embarrassing.

“Coming right up.” She listened as he slid the drawers open. She heard his disgusted grunt as he closed the drawer again.

“Where do you keep the good stuff?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.”

“Yes, I would,” she heard him mumble as he found what she'd asked for.

Thank goodness she kept her good lingerie in a separate drawer on the other side of the room. She opened the door a crack and reached out for the clothing. Sliding into the white, practical underwear, she found herself giggling. It was his sister; she'd gotten it all wrong. She brushed her teeth then opened the door, ready to face him.

“I liked you better in the shirt. Are we friends again?” He bent his knees so he was eye level with her. He looked fantastic, and Shelby found herself suddenly feeling very shy.

“Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run but you didn't exactly dispel the fact, now did you?” She looked at him accusingly and was pleased when a small hint of guilt crossed his face.

“You infuriated me when you left that day in June. I know why you did, but to just assume the worst, without talking to me, without giving me the opportunity to defend myself … did you really think I was that kind of a man?”

The pain in his voice made Shelby feel very small. It was time to be honest. She took a deep breath and looked up into his wounded eyes.

“I didn't want you to be. I was afraid, Wyeth.”

“Of me?”

“Of what I felt for you, what I still feel for you. I knew Jack all my life. We grew up together, we learned together. I have, until you, never been with another man, ever. I knew how Jack moved, how he thought, what he would do, and I loved that. It was the familiar. Then you came along and basically rocked my world off its foundation.”

“I rocked your world? Baby, that's just what you did to mine.” She looked into his eyes and was drawn to him by some invisible force. Before she could help it, Shelby found herself in Wyeth's embrace, their lips locked onto one another. He broke the kiss and held her face in his hands.