Marry Me (18 page)

"I'm changing; I'm growing up. Really."

"Don't tell me. Tell Faith."

A car pulled into the driveway and Angela braced, her dread extreme, as the car door slammed, as Faith came in. Her arms were loaded down with grocery bags.

"Hey Bryce," she called, "I have more groceries in the car. Would you—"

Her voice trailed off as she saw Angela.

"Look what the cat drug in," Gracie said. Not in a bad way. Not in a snide way. Merely stating the facts.

Faith stared at Angela for an eternity, for so long that Angela was afraid she might turn around and leave. Ultimately, she murmured, "Hello Angela."

She put the groceries on the counter. Then, her expression neutral, she jammed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans as if she had to keep them there so she wouldn't march over and wrap them around Angela's throat.

"What are you doing here?" Faith asked.

"I had to see you."

"What for?"

"To apologize."

"Are you sorry?"

"Oh Faith, I'm so, so sorry."

Angela began to cry, tears dripping down her cheeks, but she didn't try to swipe them away. She was too sad, too relieved to be home.

Please, please, please,
she prayed,
let me stay.

"You won't be surprised to hear," Gracie advised Faith, "that she wants to live with us again."

"If you'll have me," Angela mumbled on a hiccupping sob of air.

Faith just stood there, watching Angela, while Angela's future hung in the balance. Faith was the kindest, best person she'd ever met. If Faith couldn't forgive her, there was probably no forgiveness to be had anywhere.

"Tell me why you did it," Faith eventually said.

"I don't know why."

"Yes you do." Gracie snorted with disgust. "Admit your sins and get it over with. Don't pretend."

Angela nodded. Penance had to start somewhere. "Remember last summer when I had that new boyfriend?"

"Yes," Faith replied. "He was the greatest guy ever."

"I…I slept with him, and I liked him so much. I wanted to help him."

Faith paled. "You slept with Lucas Merriweather?"

"No, no, with his brother. With Dustin."

"And he had you trick me and tape me?"

"It was my own idea. I thought I could impress him, that he might…" She stumbled to a halt. "It doesn't matter what I thought."

"It wasn't Lucas," Faith murmured, shaking with relief.

"No," Angela confirmed. "It was me. Me and his brother."

"Lucas told me it wasn't him," Faith said, "but I didn't believe him."

"He accused her of abusing Harold," Gracie furiously explained. "Did you know that Angela? He was terrible to Faith." There was a deadly pause, and Gracie added, "Because of you Angela. She sent him away because of you."

"I didn't mean for it to happen like that Faith. I really didn't."

Gracie asked, "Where is your Dustin Merriweather now Angela?"

"He went back to Los Angeles. That's where he lives."

"You never saw him again after you gave him the tape?"

"No."

"So I guess," Gracie mused, "he wasn't all that
impressed
with your type of assistance. Then again, what sort of man would want a woman who would betray her own sister?"

"I didn't realize how much damage I would cause," Angela insisted.

Gracie rolled her eyes. "You never think Angela, which is your main problem."

"That's enough Gracie," Faith gently chided. "She's home. Let's figure out what to do with her."

"I've quit drinking," Angela said. "It's been a whole month."

"Why do I suspect," Faith responded, "that you're sober because you haven't had any money to spend on alcohol?"

"I'm joining AA," Angela declared. When Gracie looked as if she'd call her a liar, Angela vowed, "I'm serious. I'll attend meetings. I'll do anything you ask Faith. Just let me stay."

Angela held her breath, the only sound the clock ticking over the stove. Faith stewed and considered, then finally, she grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter. She handed it to Angela.

"Dry your eyes," she scolded. "Your mascara's running."

The air rushing from her lungs, Angela seized it and dabbed at her face. She felt dizzy and off balance.

"Forgive me Faith. Please!"

"Of course I forgive you," Faith grumbled. "I'm an idiot, remember? I never do what I should."

"I'll be better," Angela promised. "I'll try harder. I swear it."

"Let's not swear. It's too easy to mess up. Let's just start over."

Angela's body went limp. She nearly slid from the chair and onto the floor in an exhausted heap.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

She pushed herself to her feet and threw her arms around Faith, hugging her as tightly as she could. Faith allowed the embrace for a minute, then she pried Angela away and stepped back.

"We don't need all this weeping and begging," Faith told her. "Go up and unpack. Your bed's waiting for you."

"You won't regret this." Angela spun and hurried out before she broke down and blubbered like a baby.

Behind her, Gracie said to Faith, "Sucker."

"I know," Faith answered. "I should have a capital S stamped on my forehead."

Angela smiled a watery smile and climbed the stairs to her old room, the one she shared with Peanut.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Faith turned onto her street and drove toward her house.

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, with a hint of autumn coolness in the air. She could smell leaves burning, as if someone had lit a bonfire.

As she approached, Gracie, Angela, and Peanut were sitting on the front steps, while her dog, King, lounged on the grass. They were watching Bryce play catch on the lawn with…Lucas Merriweather?

The sight was so shocking and so unexpected that she missed her driveway and almost crashed into the neighbor's hedge. Shaking with concern, she pulled to the curb and stopped.

Lucas was in her yard, playing catch?

She adjusted her rearview mirror and studied the strange scene. The females in her life were mesmerized, expressions of hero worship shining from their faces. Bryce was captivated too, appearing intense and focused and eager to please. Even King was agog.

The whole thing was so domestic, as if they belonged together.

When had he arrived? What did he want?

She wouldn't have him in her home, charming her family, inserting himself into Bryce's and Peanut's lives. They'd grow attached, but he'd never hang around to continue any relationship he started.

He'd hurt her and treated her badly. She was still angry that he'd believed her capable of treachery toward an aged, infirm, dying man. If he'd paid even the slightest bit of attention, he'd have understood the kind of person Faith was. He'd have known she couldn't harm anyone.

Struggling for calm, she took a deep breath, then another and another. Slowly, she eased herself out of her seat, pasted on a smile, and walked over to them.

"Look who's here Faith!" Bryce gushed as he snagged a grounder.

"I see who it is," she neutrally responded.

"He bought me a new glove! We're breaking it in."

"That's great kiddo."

"Hey Faith," Lucas murmured.

"Hello Lucas."

His gaze was warm and seductive, drawing her in, fueling a little spurt of gladness that she instantly tamped down.

She glared over at Gracie, silently asking: 
What's he doing here?

"He was in the neighborhood," Gracie smoothly lied, "and decided to stop by. I invited him for supper."

"Let me guess," Faith retorted. "He's staying?"

"He sure is honey." Gracie gave her a shrewd nod. "And if I may say so, it's about time we had a man sharing our table. I certainly plan to enjoy it. How about you?"

Faith patted a hand on her chest. "My heart will be all aflutter."

"Faith," Bryce interrupted, "Lucas wants to take me to a Rockies's game. I can go, can't I?"

"We'll talk about it."

"They might make it to the playoffs. It would be so cool to see them."

"We'll talk about it," she repeated more sternly.

Faith peered up at Lucas, getting lost in those blue eyes.

In the months he'd been away, nothing had changed. He was still too handsome, too charismatic, too, too everything. If she wasn't careful, her prior attraction would open up a dark, dangerous hole and she'd fall right in.

"Could I speak with you for a minute?" she asked him.

"I'm all yours."

At hearing his suggestive innuendo, she frowned at him, then at Gracie.

"Lucas and I have something to discuss," Faith told her. When Gracie didn't move, Faith added, "In private. Would you take everybody inside?"

"I have a better idea," Gracie said. "You two go on in. Angela and I will drive the kids to the mall. We'll be there for
hours.
"

"You don't have to be away for hours," Faith replied. "This will only take a few seconds."

"For hours," Gracie reiterated, "and I'll call before we head back, so you have plenty of warning."

"Why would they need a warning?" Bryce inquired, not quite old enough to grasp the nuances.

Angela bit down a snort as Gracie said, "They just might be…busy."

"I wouldn't count on it," Faith quipped.

She watched in consternation as Gracie hurried them into the car and sped away. Then she and Lucas were alone, and though she'd wanted a private moment, now that it had arrived, she was tongue-tied.

Obviously he had a purpose in mind, and she didn't care to learn what it was. She suspected ulterior motives, probably a bribe to relinquish custody of Bryce and Peanut.

Maybe he'd visited in an attempt to soften her up first. Or maybe he was about to restart his legal wrangling and was eager to explain himself. Or maybe it was more elemental than that. Maybe he simply hadn't been laid in awhile, and he thought she'd let him seduce her again.

"Let's go in," he said once Gracie's taillights vanished around the corner.

"I'd rather not."

"Would you like to quarrel out here on the lawn where the neighbors can see?"

"I wouldn't waste the energy."

"Good because I have a couple of other issues to raise with you."

"What are they?"

"If you come inside, I'll tell you."

He flashed that grin of his, the one that always flustered her, the one that made her remember how yummy he could be. She caught herself wondering if she should tumble into another affair, even though it was the very worst idea.

He put a hand on the small of her back and guided her into the house. She didn't protest or dig in her heels. Against her better judgment, she allowed herself to be swept along.

She was an adult woman. She could have said no, so she figured that—deep down—she didn't want to refuse. A part of her, a very teeny-tiny part, was excited that he'd come and curious to know what he wanted.

He entered her home as if he owned it and as they stepped into the living room, Faith scowled.

The curtains were drawn, candles lit, pillows arranged on the floor in front of the fireplace. Though it was the middle of the afternoon, a fire was burning, cheery flames giving off a warm glow. A bottle of wine had been opened, and it sat on a tray with two glasses, just waiting to be poured.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

"Long enough."

"Who let you in?"

"Gracie."

"I should have a talk with her."

"She adores me."

"She shouldn't."

"She's older than you and a good deal wiser. You should listen to her."

"Where men are concerned, she's a pushover and always has been. I'm not so easy."

"That's not what I hear."

"Really? What do you
hear
?"

"You're very forgiving, and when someone you care about screws up, you're the first to relent and show a bit of understanding."

"Who told you that?"

"Angela. Would you like to know what else she told me?"

"No actually, I wouldn't."

He continued anyway. "She confessed to making that tape on her own. She got you joking around and being sarcastic and she was able to steer the conversation in a bad direction."

"She sure did. So what?"

"So…I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm sorry I accused you of harming Harold."

"Apology accepted. Thanks for coming."