Waking Up To Love (Lakeside Porches Book 4) (27 page)

“She was a strong woman when Dad was alive. Though she wasn’t one to hike with us, she regularly visited the tenants and townspeople and sometimes took me along on her rounds.” He interrupted the telling as the waiter arranged their teapot and china cups and set down frosty glass dishes of sorbet.

When he’d left, Lyssa asked, “What were your mum’s rounds, Kyle, when she visited the tenants? What was she doing?”

“Seeing to the needs of the women and children. Making sure they had medical care, proper nutrition, warm clothes, and shoes. Encouraging the children to go to school and read and learn their sums so they could manage their affairs. She probably did much more that I don’t know about. I should ask her.”

“Does someone do that work now she’s unable?”

“I confess, I don’t know.”

“Let’s ask next time we visit.”

He finally got it that Lyssa was interested in picking up that work from his mum. “Brilliant. Mum will be pleased, sweetheart. Now, to you. All I know about your home life is that your parents were alcoholics and died when you and Manda were teenagers, which was distressing, I’m sure. Can you say more?”

Lyssa sat back and concentrated on the teapot as Kyle poured for each of them. After a sip, she said, “When Manda and I were young, our mother was not as far gone with her drinking. She taught in a middle school and was always there for us by the time we got home from school. The three of us were close then. She helped with homework and taught us to sew and to help her with the housekeeping and cooking.

“I think it was when we hit our teens that she drank more, every night, and shut herself in her room after dinner. Manda and I did our homework and made sure our rooms were locked when Dad came home.” She breathed noisily.

Kyle leaned closer and spread his arms on the table, creating a protected space for them. “He was violent, I suppose. Abusive?”

She nodded and took a sip of tea. Her hands shook this time. Her gaze was on the liquid in her cup when she continued. “Dad was always a violent drunk. He didn’t get drunk every night, and he didn’t come home every time he got drunk, but when he did, he’d destroy something or beat up mom.” She sucked in a breath.

“The police were useless with domestic violence calls, so after a few times we didn’t bother. Sometimes Manda and I would flee the house, hating that we couldn’t protect Mom.” Her gaze flickered to him, then away. “We’d stay with friends, hers or mine. That was mostly in high school, and they died when I was ready to graduate, so it only went on like that for a few years.” She shuddered.

“They were young when they died?”

“Yes. They were coming home from a movie, after stopping off for a drink. Hah, a drink. They were drunk, and they drove off the road into a ravine. We didn’t know. But when they still weren’t home the next day, Manda and I called the police.

“This time they did help. The search went on for hours before they found them halfway down, wedged in some trees, still in their car. The police said they’d both died instantly. Dad was forty-five, I know, so Mom would have been forty-seven.”

“She was actually a bit older than he?”

Lyssa nodded. “They met in college. He’d skipped some grades. She got her masters and taught school, supported him while he got his doctorate. Then he taught college.” She took the handkerchief he’d pressed against her hand and whispered her thanks.

“I’m so sorry, Lyssa.”

Her hands trembled as she dabbed at her eyes. “Sorry about the mascara. Soon after, I went off to Texas, and Manda and I didn’t see each other. We had nothing more than our scholarships, and we both had to work to support ourselves. Travel wasn’t an option. We had very little contact. Both of us drank. Alcoholically. And, thank God, both of us got sober very young.”

As he poured more tea in each cup, he said, “Much as I regret letting you slip away from me in the UK, I’m very glad you’re here with Manda and the Cushmans. It bothers me that you and she were separated and struggling all those years.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a teary smile. “One of the things I love about you is your fundamental decency. But I wouldn’t want to be here in Tompkins Falls without you. You’ve given up a great deal to spend these months with me.”

Kyle swallowed hard. “And you know I want it to be more than a few months.”

Before Lyssa could reply, the waiter set the check at Kyle’s elbow. “Whenever you’re ready, sir.”

Kyle fingered the check.
It’s Lyssa that needs to be ready
.

Chapter 9

“Kyle, why did you ask all those questions at dinner about the house on Seneca Street? Are you thinking of buying it?” They were enjoying bagels, jam, and coffee in her apartment.

Kyle stammered for three seconds, coughed, and took a swallow of coffee. “I don’t think I’ve seen enough to make a decision, and, honestly, I don’t know that I’m buying a house at all, am I? Wasn’t this a ruse to get us into the public eye as a couple?”

“I thought so, yes, but you sounded serious.”

He winked. “Maybe I just wanted you to publicly show off all your financial wisdom.”

Lyssa looked sideways at him. “I’m not buying that line.” When he didn’t reply, she changed the subject. “How is the new job going, Mr. CIO?” She wiggled her eyebrows, and he laughed.

“It’s shaping up. I had a few slackers who have now stepped up to their responsibilities. Most of my time is spent with various administrative offices, making sure staff know how important their contributions are to the overall integrity of data. It seems no one had taken the time to instruct them or to solicit their ideas. They’re very bright and enthusiastic.”

“I suspect your charm has something to do with their enthusiasm.” She chuckled as he tugged at his shirt collar.

“Yes, well, I don’t seem to be able to charm my lady into an engagement.” He reached for her hand.

“It’s, I, Kyle, we’re still in the awful mess we were last time we talked about this.”

“I thought perhaps our sleeping together would help you think differently about us.”

Her face flamed with remembered pleasure. “I love it that we’re sleeping together, and the sex is fantastic, but I don’t think you build a marriage just on sex.”

Kyle’s gaze darted to the lake, his forehead wrinkling.

Was it confusion? Annoyance?

“Are you very frustrated?”

“Yes, I suppose I am. Are we at least moving in the right direction, sweetheart?”

“I believe we are,” she said enthusiastically. “Let’s keep working on trust and communication. What do you say?”

“Of course, luv.” He stood, gathered their dishes, and headed to the sink with his hands full.

“Are you angry?”

“Of course not.” He turned on the water harder than necessary to rinse the dishes.

Lyssa shook the placemats, swept crumbs into her hand, and repositioned the linens. She brushed off her hands into the trash and massaged Kyle’s shoulders.

He turned off the water and dried his hands on a towel.

“So we’re okay?” she asked.

He faced her and, hands at her waist, drew her closer. “Sweetheart, I’ve been meaning to ask you if you can get away over the holiday break.”

“Thanksgiving or Christmas?”

“The big break after the semester is done. I understand they close the college for ten days or so for staff. And you faculty have a good three or four weeks between classes, if I’m reading the calendar correctly.”

“Right, yes. If I’m here in Tompkins Falls for Thanksgiving, I don’t think Manda will feel slighted if I’m away around Christmas and New Year’s. What did you have in mind?”

“We can spend time with Mum and show you the holiday traditions in Cornwall. Spend a good bit of time in London. Concerts, shows, shopping. I should get tickets now if we want to do it.”

“I’d love it, Kyle. Any and all of that.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Before you run off to your very hectic day, I have to tell you I picked up a nasty voicemail from Rand while I was making coffee.”

“When did he leave it?”

“Evening. I don’t think he knew yet about us having dinner together.”

“So why was he leaving you a nasty message at all?”

“I had told him I’d come to a reception last night, and I completely forgot. Something the dean was putting on to recognize faculty publications. I feel bad enough about missing it, but he made it into a heinous crime. Said I’d led him on, put him in an awkward position with the faculty who had looked forward to my participation, and on and on. All the way to the caterers who had planned precisely for a certain number of guests.”

Kyle failed to hide a smile. “Wait until he finds out you were with me, having an elegant dinner and who knows what else.”

“Did you—?” Had the dinner been a show, aimed at besting Rand?
No, ridiculous, don’t go there.

“What, luv?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I feel horrible about missing the reception. It was a perfect opportunity to act like a colleague and to praise my fellow faculty, and I completely blew it by keeping that late appointment with Andrea.”

“There will be other opportunities.”

“Not like that one, I’m afraid.”

Kyle’s gaze shifted to the lake. Lyssa followed his line of sight. In the half-light of morning, pockets of fog clung to the far shore, and the water was a misty gray.

“What are you going to do about Rand?” he asked.

“I called him back and left a voicemail.”

Kyle chuckled. “Really? What did you say to him?”

He looks awfully smug
.
And not a bit sympathetic.
“I told him I was so terribly sorry, which I am. Told him I’d double-booked myself and the consult ran over.”

Kyle backed her against the counter and fitted his body to hers. “And then what happened, sweetheart?” He kissed the silky skin below her ear.

She chuckled in the back of her throat. “What happened after dinner would be a private matter.” She raked her fingers through his hair and sighed with pleasure as he ran his hands down her sides. “Are you sure you have an early meeting?”

“Sadly, I do.” His gaze swept over the azure silk robe he’d given her and asked her to wear in place of the pink fleece when they were together. “I love that your curls are tousled from our lovemaking.”

A hot blush suffused her face. She wiggled aside and straightened her robe. “Tonight? We can fix something here.”

He kissed her cheek. “Yes. Until then, stay out of Rand’s way.”

“Lyssa, wait up.”

In the jumble of students crossing the quad, Lyssa swiveled halfway around before she spotted Bethany waving from the grassy area next to the library. She pushed through the crowd. “Bethany, I’m so glad to see you. It seems like weeks.”

“I know, right? Brad and I were hoping to see you last night.”

“I really blew it with the reception. I’ve just come from apologizing to the dean. I was sweating that, but he graciously apologized for leaving me off the mailing list in the first place.”

“Got time for a coffee?” Bethany asked.

Lyssa nodded enthusiastically, and Bethany led them into the library café. “So, what happened last night? Rand said you’d planned to be there. He was fuming.”

Lyssa gave her the simple answer and added her sincere apology.

“From what I hear, your consulting with Kyle Pennington is turning into some intimate dinners together. Are you and he an item now?”

Lyssa scrunched up her face. “Sounds like the rumor mill is in overdrive.”

“Well, Rand was horribly disappointed. And so was I, Lyssa.”

They found a table with a view of the quad. “At least let me get our coffee,” Lyssa said.

Bethany’s face brightened. “Thanks.”

Lyssa dumped her jacket, laptop, and folders on the bench.
Another thing I haven’t done is buy a backpack.
She brought two steaming coffees to the table along with a pocketful of stirrers, sugar packets, and single-serving half-and-half.

“You missed a good gathering. The deans went all out on the food, and three vineyards brought wines to sample. Faculty haven’t had that much fun
ever
since I’ve been at Tompkins College.”

“I hate that I missed it. Did you and Brad have publications recognized?”

“I had a little article that people fussed over, and Brad had an edited book. The dean even recognized the work Rand is doing with his young poets in that online community of his. Everyone looked around for you when he mentioned your work in the UK.”

“As I said, the dean apologized for not sending me an invitation. I didn’t know about it until Rand mentioned it, in passing, a few days ago.”

Bethany shifted in her chair. “If you promise not to forget this time, Brad and I are hoping you’ll come with us and Rand to a concert in Rochester this weekend.”

“I’d like that. What kind of concert?”

“Classical, Rand says. A symphony and a violin piece. You could find the details online.” She laughed along with an airy wave of her hand. “I’m not a classical fan myself, but I’m willing to be educated.”

“Are you and Brad driving? Rand just has a two-seater.”

“Brad is taking the four of us. How does that sound?” She put the lid on her coffee and gathered her things.

“Terrific. Are you leaving already?”

“Yes, and here’s Rand.” Bethany stood for his hug. “Rand, take my place. I have to get ready for class. Lyssa’s going to the concert with us.” With a kiss for Rand’s cheek, Bethany flew out of the café and across the quad.

This was a setup
. Lyssa played with her mug, thinking how perfectly Rand had manipulated Bethany.

He lowered himself into the chair across from her.

“I am sorry about missing last night,” she said. “It got complicated.”

“That isn’t the word my student used to describe your tête-a-tête with Pennington at the Manse Grille.”

“I honestly forgot the reception, Rand. Would you prefer I not go with you all to the concert?”

His eyes burned with anger. “Just don’t
forget
about this double date with my friends. You did a lot of damage to your reputation with the faculty by skipping out on last night’s affair.”

“I get that.”

“So what’s with you and Pennington?”

“I’m advising him on a house purchase. He wants to be sure his investment will have resale value, as he doesn’t plan to be here long.” She hoped her clipped tone would convey it was all about business, whatever his student might have said.

Except it isn’t all about business, and I’m supposed to be falling in love with Kyle out in the open. Too confusing.

A muscle twitched in his cheek as he scowled at her. Finally, he shoved his chair back and stood. “Whatever. Is it understood that you’re my date for this concert?”

“No. I understood I was going at Bethany’s invitation.”

He snorted. “Well you’re the only one that sees it that way, darlin’.”

Before she could think of a snappy comeback, he was out the door. Two students across the café glared at her. She wanted to stick out her tongue at them.

“Kyle, I don’t have to go.” Lyssa hated the frustration in her voice. “I am duty-bound by Justin to accommodate Rand, and I know it annoys you. It annoys me, too. Maybe Brad or Rand will let something slip about their possible involvement in whatever you’re investigating with the network.”

“I’m convinced Brad’s clean,” he snapped.

“Well, the good news is, I’ll get to know Bethany better, and the concert sounds really good. At least I think she meant the Rochester Philharmonic. According to the website, they’re playing a Brahms symphony, and the Mendelssohn violin concerto.”

“Who’s the violinist?”

“I don’t recall.”

Lyssa set aside her half-empty plate, no longer hungry for the mushroom risotto she’d made them. She picked at the rest of her salad.

“I suppose if you didn’t go, you’d lose Bethany’s friendship,” he said grudgingly.

“Which is preferable to losing your friendship.”

“You’re not losing my friendship,” he said, his tone brusque.

“Then stop sniping at me.” She huffed. The hurt in his eyes made her heart ache. “Please, Kyle. I hate it when we argue, and it’s always about Rand. Don’t you know I have no interest in him?” She rubbed her forehead with the heels of her hands. “We can’t keep doing this to each other. Help me out here.”

Kyle shoved back his chair. “I think I need to leave.”

“Why?” Lyssa threw open her hands. “How is that a solution?”

“Because everything I say is making the situation worse.” His voice rose with every word.

“I understand that you’re jealous and upset.”

Kyle muttered something that sounded like “not a jealous bone in my body.”

“I totally get that you hate my going anywhere with Rand. I hate it, too. I wouldn’t have agreed to this concert if you hadn’t signed me up for snitching to begin with.”

“So it’s my fault?” Kyle kicked his chair right, left, and center until it fit under the table.

“Are you saying it’s my fault?” Lyssa rocked the table as she jumped to her feet.

“You’re the one going out with him on a date.” Kyle gave the table a wide berth and strode toward the front door.

Lyssa followed him, shrieking, “It’s not a date. It’s a bloody spy mission.”

“So you say.” Kyle threw his head back and puffed his cheeks.

“Fine. Be pompous. That’s perfect.”

With a growl, Kyle turned his back, swung the door wide, and clattered down the stairs.

After he slammed the outside door behind him, Manda poked her head out of her own apartment and peered up at Lyssa.