The Truth (8 page)

Emily’s eyes shone with the threat of tears. “She has no idea how important this day is to me. It has to be perfect. Your daughter only gets married once and I never thought I’d be there to witness it. So if we have to scale every shop to find the perfect thing, so be it.” She tilted her chin in the air in mock defiance.

Aimee rolled her eyes. “If it doesn’t happen soon, I’m afraid I’ll be half way to New York the night of my bachelorette party.”

“She’s exaggerating.” Emily shook her head, and looked disappointedly at her daughter, “We will barely be through Vegas as slow as she drives.”

The three of them laughed and sat down at a table near the counter. Lexie couldn’t help but feel the joy sparking between the two of them. It was hard to imagine it had only been a little over three years since they’d been reunited. Twenty-eight years earlier, Aimee had been kidnapped as a newborn, and it wasn’t until the woman who’d taken her became ill and confessed her crime, that she’d finally found her mother. They looked so much alike, and were so comfortable with each other it was impossible to imagine them ever having been apart.

“We just left the Nathan Talbot House and Marissa told us what happened with Grayson.” Emily reached out and patted Lexie’s hand. “I hope you two work it out. Like I’ve told you before and you still refuse to hear, fear is simply the killer of dreams,” she scolded.

“I know, I know.” Lexie waved her hand hoping to dismiss the conversation.

Emily Sinclair had known Lexie for years and had never agreed with her decision to happily become an old maid. She was a wonderful woman, and a great friend. As the founder of the hospice house, named after her husband and Aimee’s father, Nathan Talbot, she’d been instrumental in caring for Maggie, and at Lexie’s side when she lost her. She was also the woman who’d rushed through the adoption paperwork so Ryan would never be taken to state custody, and was still actively involved in Ryan’s life.

They discussed the wedding for a bit, and Aimee threatened Lexie’s life if she missed her bachelorette party the following weekend. Her excitement was contagious and Lexie found herself questioning her decisions. After Ryan started his own life, she’d grow old alone. Was that really what she wanted?

As if reading her mind, Emily stood to leave, and wrapping her arms around Lexie’s shoulders, whispered into her ear. “There is nothing in this world more necessary than love. Even knowing the outcome and the pain, I wouldn’t trade one day with my Nathan. Don’t cheat yourself out of the happiness waiting for you.”

Emily’s words stuck with her long after the pair left the coffee shop, and eight hours later, Lexie stood outside of Grayson’s apartment wringing her hands. She lifted her hand to knock and lowered it again. What was she going to say? She tried to play the conversation out in her mind, but each time she looked foolish, indecisive, and well, like a coward. She turned her back to the door and took a step to leave. She shook her head, took a deep breath and turning around, finally knocked on the door. This time, she refused to be a coward.

Instead of the anticipated look of surprise, Grayson looked as if he were expecting her. He smiled and opened the door for her to enter, stepping back out of her way. Her breath caught when she looked up at him. The bump on his forehead was gone and he wore a pair of baggy sweat pants with his chest bare of a shirt or any bandages. She could still make out a few purple areas but they didn’t take away from the heated reaction she was currently having as she yearned to run her hands down his chest.

Color crept up her cheeks when she looked into his eyes and saw the flicker of knowledge in their depth. “I don’t know why I’m here.” Her tone conveyed her frustration.

He didn’t say anything. He simply walked into the kitchen and poured her a glass of wine. Handing it to her, he sat quietly on the couch, waiting for her to continue.

She paced back and forth, sipping from her glass. The silence weighed heavily in the room as she tried to understand why she’d come. Letting out a sigh, she placed her glass on the coffee table and turned to leave. “I shouldn’t have come.” Her chest felt tight, her breathing rapid as she gripped the doorknob.

“I’m glad you did. I’ve missed you.” Grayson said, still seated on the couch.

She turned around. Tears gleamed in her eyes as she looked at him, sitting, waiting.

“I can’t do this. I want to, but I don’t think I can.” Lexie’s voice cracked and the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Grayson rose from the couch and walked to her, taking her hands in his. “We have to do this. I love you, Lexie, and I don’t want to lose you because you’re afraid of the ‘what if’s.’”

He loved her. Her heart swelled as his words sank in. Was she going to lose him because he wore a badge? Was he right and she was a coward? The tears streaming down her cheeks became a flood; her future stood in front her and she only had to reach out for it.

“I didn’t think my telling you I loved you would result in tears.”

Wiping her eyes, she reached her arms around his neck and kissed him. She pulled back, looking into his face. “I’m sorry I’m crying. I love you too, Grayson. I’m just so damn scared of feeling this way.”

He caressed her face. “I’m scared too. But I’m willing if you are.” Bending down, he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m not Kyle. Please remember that.”

She jerked back. “How — ?”

“It doesn’t matter how. I wish I would have heard it from you, but I’m trying to understand why you may have been hesitant to tell me.”

She felt weak, like a balloon deflating. She flopped on the couch and bent her head down. “It always seemed so silly when I said it out loud. You are a police officer, something you should be incredibly proud of. How do I tell you that because of Kyle, and your badge, I feel the need to run?”

“Just like that.” He sat down beside her and lifted her chin. “You don’t have to keep anything from me. Even if you think the words sound silly. I don’t think they sound that way at all.”

The comfort he offered seeped through her and she leaned into him, lifting her chin, inviting him to kiss her. He caressed the side of her face and slowly traced his thumb across her lips, never taking his eyes from hers. Her blood began to boil and her need for him became unbearable. He pressed his lips to hers and parting them, kissed her deeply, as she indulged in the taste of him, pressing herself closer.

He sat back breathlessly, his eyes filled with questions. Without a word, Lexie stood up, reached for his hand and led him to the bedroom.

Stopping when she reached the bed, she motioned for him to sit. Standing in front of him, she unbuttoned her shirt, letting it fall to the ground. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her closer to him. Wrapping his arms around her waist he leaned in and placed a path of velvet kisses along her naked stomach. His warm breath sent shivers through her body, causing her knees to weaken. Allowing her head to fall back, she arched closer to him, her body demanding more.

Backing away, she held her hands out, and pulled him to stand before her. “I need to feel your skin against mine.” Reaching over, she gently slid his sweat pants over his hips. She inhaled sharply, her eyes taking in every inch of the beautiful man before her.

Without taking her eyes from his, she released the clasp on her bra and stepped out of her remaining clothes.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Grayson said, pulling her against him.

Laying her gently upon the bed, his hands explored every inch of her, sending spasms throughout her body. Unable to maintain her desire she began an exploration of her own, running her fingers over every defining crevice of his body.

Moaning with pleasure, he lifted himself above her. His eyes radiated with all the love she felt flowing between them. Without taking his eyes from hers, their bodies became one. All recollection of time evaporated until, breathlessly, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Waking before the sun, Lexie smiled as she felt Grayson spooned up against her. She ran her fingers along the top of his arm wrapped around her waist. With a wistful sigh, she climbed out of the warm bed, careful not to jostle his arm and wake him.

She grabbed her clothes from the floor and slipped quietly into the bathroom to dress. Tiptoeing across the carpet, she paused to watch him. His dark hair fell over his eye. His face was all angles and lines, like a carved Greek statue, and in strong contrast, he had a small spray of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Her eyes roamed down his jaw line covered in short dark whiskers, and focused on his mouth. She wanted desperately to climb back in beside him and feel those lips on her again.

Instead, she stepped out into the living room and closed the bedroom door behind her. She did have a shop to open after all, and she needed to get home to Ryan so Jordan could get to work. She walked to his desk and opened the drawer looking for a pen and a sheet of paper to leave him a note. Locating a pen, she opened another drawer in search of paper. She rummaged through, and paused when her hand made contact with a picture frame.

Curiosity had her pulling it out and she held it closer to the small desk lamp she’d turned on. She gasped. Grayson stood with his arms around a beautiful brunette in a soft pink tutu and stage make-up. Their eyes were bright and their smiles wide. Their love for each other leapt out of the photograph.

She dropped the framed picture onto the desk as the room began to spin. She braced herself against the edge of the desk, afraid she would pass out. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she picked the photograph up and looked one more time. There was no question: it was Maggie. She turned the picture over and read “New York 2005.” Nothing made sense. Who in the hell was Grayson Hunter, really? Tucking it back in the drawer, she raced from the apartment; all thoughts of leaving him a note forgotten.

Still dazed, she’d managed to have her associate open the shop, drop Ryan off at his grandmother’s, and fool her brother into thinking her pale complexion was due to lack of sleep.

Sitting outside of Marissa’s house her head swirled with unanswered questions and disbelief. She struggled to remember the conversation she’d had with Maggie about her past.

Maggie had just started working for her, and Lexie had called a girl’s night at her place. They were sitting together, drinking wine, and grilling Maggie for information.

Maggie laughed. “Well, let’s see … I’m originally from Florida, I moved to New York after my parents died to pursue a career in dance. Th
e stages of Broadway were just calling out to me. I worked a bit off Broadway for a while and then followed my heart, which was being carried around by a man, to Washington about three years ago. I lived in the Seattle area for a while, and then wanted a slower pace to raise Ryan, so here I am.”

“Dish the dirt on the guy who carried your heart around,” Lexie said, leaning forward, curiosity written all over her face. “Spill it, girl.”

Maggie’s face changed, her smile faded, her eyes grew sad. “There isn’t much to tell. He was in the Marines. I met him when he was on leave. Within two weeks, I was a goner and followed him back to the base he was stationed at in Washington. He was shipped off to Iraq, and didn’t make it home.”

“Oh Maggie, I’m so sorry,” Lexie said. “Is he Ryan’s father?”

“He was,” Maggie answered.

Lexie shook her head before briefly resting it against the steering wheel. She filled her lungs and exhaled slowly, trying to get her emotions under control. Throwing her purse over her shoulder she walked to Marissa’s door and knocked.

“Lexie, is everything all right?” Marissa could obviously tell it wasn’t. “Come in, I’ll pour you some coffee.”

She walked into the familiar, bright, open kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar in silence. Marissa set a cup of coffee in front of her and climbed onto the stool beside her.

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” Marissa laid her hand over Lexie’s.

“I don’t think Grayson is dead.”

Marissa’s eyes drew together. “Why would you have thought he was dead?”

Lexie knew she wasn’t making any sense. “I found a picture … of Grayson, in New York. I don’t think he’s dead.”

Marissa shook her head. “Lexie, back up and start at the beginning. I’m not following you.”

Lexie took a sip of coffee and a deep breath. “Do you remember Maggie’s story about Ryan’s father, and how he died in Iraq?”

Nodding, Marissa waited for her to continue.

“I found a picture of Grayson, in New York in 2005. I don’t think he’s dead.”

“What would Grayson’s being in New York in 2005 have anything to do with somebody being dead?” Marissa asked.

“It was a picture of him with Maggie.”

“Why would Grayson have a picture with … ?” Marissa’s eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open. “You mean that Grayson is Maggie’s dead boyfriend? Why would Maggie tell us he was dead if he wasn’t? That doesn’t sound like her.”

“I don’t know.” Lexie felt the tears begin again.

Marissa drew in a sharp breath. “Lexie, that would mean — ”

“Grayson would also be Ryan’s father.”

Later that afternoon, Lexie and Marissa sat side by side on Lexie’s couch and stared at the box sitting on the coffee table.

“Lexie, are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Marissa asked, lifting the lid of the cardboard box.

“No, I’m not.” Lexie took a large swallow from her wine glass. “But I need to.”

“You don’t really believe that Grayson faked his own death? You know him; do you think he’d be capable of such a thing?”

“No … I don’t know. Marissa, what is happening here?” Lexie’s hands shook as she set her glass onto the table.

“There has to be another explanation, but none of this makes any sense. He said he loved the girl who left him; she says she loved the man that died in the war. But now, that man may not be dead, she’s not here to talk to, and you’re not only in love with him, you could possibly be raising his child? Lex, this is crazy.” Marissa picked up her own glass and sipped before handing Lexie the tissues.