Family Affair (4 page)

“We’ll never eat all that,” she insisted, leaning toward him until her stomach was pressed against the side of the linen-covered table.

“I know,” he said, unconcerned. “There’ll be plenty of leftovers for later.”

It amazed her that they had so much to talk about. He respected her privacy and didn’t pry into subjects she didn’t want to discuss. He listened and his laugh was easy, and before she knew it she was completely relaxed. Her problems seemed much less important.

Lacey even managed to sample each of the multiple dishes Jack ordered, none of which she’d tasted before. They were so good, it was hard to stop eating.

By the time they left the restaurant, carrying the leftovers, Lacey was full and content. They walked along the crowded streets, stopping now and again to investigate the wares of a souvenir shop. Jack bought her a bar of jasmine-scented soap and a catnip toy for Cleo.

“Tell her it’s from Dog,” he said.

She smiled up at him. “I will. It’s the least he can do.”

“The very least,” Jack agreed.

She had trouble pulling her gaze away from his. It had been a long time since she’d had such a happy time with a man.

“We’d better head back,” Jack said abruptly, waving to flag down a taxi.

“So soon?” she protested, not understanding the swift change in his mood. One moment they were enjoying each other’s company, and the next Jack looked as if he couldn’t get home fast enough. He turned and looked at her, his eyes burning into hers. “I don’t want to leave either.”

“Then why are we going?”

“Because I can’t go another minute without kissing you, and doing it on the streets of Chinatown might embarrass you.”

Five

N
either spoke on the ride back to the apartment building. Jack paid the driver, took hold of Lacey’s hand, and led her into the lobby. The elevator was waiting with the door wide open, and the instant they were inside Jack reached for her.

The moment their lips met, Lacey realized she’d been half crazy with wanting him. His mouth was firm and needy, as needy as her own. Standing on the tips of her toes, she linked her arms around his neck.

When he lifted his mouth from hers, she buried her face in his shoulder. He held her close, rubbing his chin across the crown of her head. His touch was as gentle as she knew it would be. Cleo trusted this touch, savored it. Now it was her turn.

She wanted him to kiss her again, needed him to, so she’d know this was real. Reading her mind, he used his thumb to raise her chin. His eyes met and held her for a breath-stopping moment before he lowered his lips to hers. His mouth was wet and warm, coaxing. Lacey sighed as her emotions churned like the dense fog that swirls around the Golden Gate Bridge.

This was real, she decided. It didn’t get any more real than this. One moment she was clinging to him, breathless with wonder, and the next she was battling tears.

“Lacey.”

She didn’t answer, but freed herself enough to push the button to their floor, to escape as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to talk, to explain emotions she didn’t understand herself. Shaking from the impact of his touch, she realized how terribly frightened she was.

After Peter had left, she’d been in shock. If she’d examined her pain then, she would have had to acknowledge how deeply he’d wounded her.

Now there was Jack, patient, gentle Jack, who evoked a wealth of sensation. But she couldn’t accept this promise of joy without first dealing with the dull, throbbing pain of her past.

“Lacey,” he whispered, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around her waist. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. An explanation was beyond her. “I’m fine.” It was a small white lie. She’d hadn’t been fine from the moment she’d learned that Peter was involved with another woman. She felt broken and inadequate. She had never recovered from the crippling loss of the dream she’d carried with her since she was a child, playing love and marriage with paper dolls.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Marriage was forever. Love was supposed to last longer than a night, commitment longer than a few months.

All that Lacey had gotten out of her years with Peter was a bitterness buried so deep in her soul that it took the tenderness of another man, one she barely knew, to make her realize what she’d been doing for the past eighteen months.

Silently, Jack walked with her down the hall that led to her apartment. Pausing outside her door, he brushed a tendril of hair from her face, his touch light and nonthreatening.

“Thank you,” he whispered, gently pressing his lips to hers.

She blinked. Twice. “Why are you thanking me?”

A smile lifted the edges of his mouth. “You’ll know soon enough.”

Her hand trembled when she inserted the key. Cleo was there to greet her, clearly unhappy at having been left so long. It took several moments for Lacey to pull herself away from her thoughts.

Setting her purse aside, she wandered into the kitchen. She could hear Jack’s movements on the other side, storing the leftovers in the refrigerator. She poured herself a glass of water and smiled when she heard a light tapping sound coming from the wall.

She reached over and knocked back, smiling at their silly game.

“Good night, Lacey,” she heard him say.

“Good night, Jack,” she whispered, and pressed her flattened palm against the wall, needing this small connection with him, yet fearing it. She was glad he couldn’t see what she had done.

Lacey couldn’t have been more surprised when Sarah Walker entered Sullivan’s Decorating two days after her dinner date with Jack.

“Sarah, hello!” Lacey said, standing to greet Jack’s sister.

“I hope you don’t mind my stopping in unexpectedly like this.” Sarah glanced nervously around the crowded shop. Every available bit of space was taken up by sample books, swatches of material, and catalogs.

“Of course not.”

“I was wondering if we could meet for lunch one afternoon and talk?”

Lacey was pleased, although surprised. “I’d enjoy that very much.”

They agreed on a time the following week, and Sarah chose a seafood restaurant on Fisherman’s Wharf, one of Lacey’s all-time favorites.

Lacey saw Jack almost every evening that week, never for very long. He had a long list of convenient excuses for dropping in unannounced, easing his way into her life bit by bit. Lacey knew what he was doing, but she didn’t mind. He made no attempt to kiss her again and she was grateful, but she didn’t expect his patience to last much longer.

“I was divorced over a year ago,” she mentioned casually one evening, not looking at him. With Cleo in her lap, Lacey felt secure enough to touch upon the truth.

Jack sat composed and relaxed on her love seat, holding a mug of coffee, his ankle resting on his knee. “I guessed as much,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not now. Do you mind?”

It took him awhile to answer; it seemed like the longest moment of Lacey’s life. “No, but I do feel we should. Someday. The sooner the better.”

She knew he was right. For the past few days, she had been rewriting her journal. It was the only way she had of sorting out her feelings. The habit of keeping a record of events in her life had started while she was still in school, and for years she had written a paragraph or two at the end of each day.

After Jack kissed her, she’d gone back to the daily journal she’d kept through those painful months before her divorce. What amazed her was the lack of emotion in those brief entries. It was as if she had jotted down the details of a police report. Just the facts, nothing more. Bits and pieces of useless information while her world blew up in her face.

She’d reread one day at a time, and then with raw courage she rewrote those trauma-filled weeks, reliving each day, refusing to dull the pain. What surprised her was the incredible amount of anger she experienced. Toward Peter. And toward Michelle, the woman he’d left her to marry.

The bitterness spilled out of her pen until her hand ached and her fingers throbbed, but still she couldn’t stop. It was as if the pen insisted she get it all down as quickly as possible because only then would she be well, only then could she move forward with her life.

She was afraid she was going to explode. Even Cleo knew not to come near her. Holding a box of tissues, she’d weep and pace and weep some more. Then she’d wipe her eyes, blow her nose, and toss the damp tissue willy-nilly. In the morning, she discovered a trail that reached to every room of her apartment.

Sleep avoided her. It wasn’t fair. She’d purged her soul, or so she thought. Yet it was well after midnight before she’d fall into a fitful sleep.

Lacey wasn’t in the mood for company the next evening when Jack arrived, but she was pleased he’d stopped by. He was easy to be with, undemanding and supportive.

Cleo jumped down from her position in Lacey’s lap and strolled into the bedroom, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. When Cleo left, Jack stood and moved to Lacey. He stretched out his hand to her.

She looked up at him and blinked and then, without question, gave him her hand. He clasped it firmly in his own and then lifted her from her chair. Deftly he switched position, claiming her seat, and drew her into his lap.

“You look tired.” His gaze was warm and concerned.

“I’m exhausted.” As well she should be after the restless night she’d spent. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bury the past. It prickled her like stinging nettles.

He eased her head down to his shoulder. “Are you able to talk about your marriage yet?”

It took several moments for Lacey to answer, and when she did she found herself battling back tears. “He fell in love with someone else. He’d been having an affair for months. Oh, Jack, how could I have been so stupid not to have known, not to have realized what was happening? I was so blind, so incredibly naive.”

Jack’s hand was in her hair. “He was a fool, Lacey. You realize that, don’t you?”

“I . . . all I know is that Peter’s happy and I’m miserable. It isn’t fair. I want to make him hurt the way he hurt me.” She buried her face in his chest.

When her sobs subsided, Lacey realized Jack was making soft, comforting sounds. Wiping the moisture from her face, she raised her head and attempted a smile.

“Did you understand anything I said?”

“I heard your pain, and that was enough.”

Appreciation filled her. She didn’t know how to tell him all that was in her heart. How grateful she was for his friendship, for showing her that she’d anesthetized her life, blocked out any chance of another relationship. Little by little, he’d worn down her resistance. All she could think to do was thank him with a kiss.

It had been so very long since a man had held her like this. It had been ages since anyone had stirred up the fire deep within her. Their mouths met, shyly at first, then gaining in intensity. After only a few seconds, Lacey was drowning in a wealth of sensation.

A frightening kind of excitement took hold of her. It had been like this when Jack had kissed her that first time, but even more so now. She opened to him and sighed with surprise and delight as his hold around her tightened. Her initial response was shy.

“Lacey,” he groaned, “do you have any idea how much you tempt me?”

“I do?” She basked in the glow of his words. After Peter, she’d been convinced no man would ever find her desirable again.

“We have to stop now.”

Lacey had never meant for their kissing to develop to this point, but now that it had, she had few regrets. “Thank you,” she whispered and lightly kissed his lips as she refastened her blouse.

“You didn’t tell me very much about your divorce,” he said.

“But I did,” she assured him. “I told you almost everything.”

He frowned. “Was I a good listener?”

“The very best,” she said, with a warm smile. “You made me feel desirable when I was convinced no man would ever want me again.”

Jack closed his eyes as if attempting to fathom such a thing. “He must have been crazy.”

“I . . . can’t answer that.”

“Do you still hate him?”

She lowered her eyes, not wanting him to read what was going on inside her. She had thought she did. Now she wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know. For a long time, I pretended the divorce didn’t matter. I told myself I was lucky to have learned the kind of husband he was before we had children.

“It’s only been since I met you that I realized how deeply I’d buried myself in denial. The divorce hurt, Jack. It was the most painful experience of my life.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Every time I think about Peter, I feel incredibly sad.”

“That’s a beginning,” Jack said softly, rubbing his chin against the side of her face. “A very good beginning.”

Six

“I
’m so pleased we could meet,” Sarah said when Lacey arrived at the seafood restaurant. Seagulls flew overhead, chasing crows. The crows retaliated, pursuing the gulls in a battle over fertile feeding territory. From their window seat, Lacey could watch a lazy harbor seal sunning himself on the long pier. The day was glorious, and she felt the beginnings of joy creep into her soul. It had been a long, dark period. Her life had been dry and barren since the day Peter announced he wanted a divorce.

“I wanted to talk to you about Jack,” Sarah said, her gaze fixed on her menu.

This didn’t surprise Lacey, and if the truth be known she’d agreed to have lunch with Sarah for the same reason. Her curiosity about Jack was keen. He was an attractive, successful banker. They were about the same age, she guessed, and she couldn’t help wondering how he’d gotten to the ripe old age of thirty-three without being married.

“I understand you and Jack are seeing each other quite a bit these days.”

Lacey didn’t know why the truth unsettled her so, but she found herself fiddling with her napkin, bunching it in her hands. “He comes over to visit Cleo.”

Sarah’s soft laugh revealed her amusement. “It isn’t Cleo who interests him, and we both know it. He’s had his eye on you for over a year. The problem is, my dear brother doesn’t know how to be subtle.”

Lacey disagreed. “He’s been more than patient.”

“True,” Sarah agreed reluctantly. “He didn’t want to scare you off. We talked about you several times. He wanted my advice. I was the one who suggested he send you flowers. He was downright discouraged when you repeatedly turned him down. Who would have thought that silly tomcat would be the thing to bring you two together?”

Lacey smoothed the linen napkin across her lap. The time for being coy had long since passed. “I like your brother very much.”

“He’s wonderful.” Once again Sarah admitted this with reluctance. “He liked you from the moment he first saw you.”

“But why?” When Lacey moved into the apartment building she’d been an emotional wreck. The divorce had been less than a month old. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but she’d been one of the walking wounded.

Sarah’s look was knowing. “Jack’s like that. He knew you’d been badly hurt and that you needed someone, the same way Dog did. He found Dog in a back alley, half starved and so mad he wouldn’t let anyone near him. It took several weeks before Dog recognized Jack as a friend.” She paused, leaned forward, and braced her elbows against the table. “But Jack was patient. He’s been patient with you too, and it’s paid off. I can’t remember the last time he was so happy.”

“I’m not a stray cat,” Lacey said defensively. She wasn’t keen on the comparison, but the similarity didn’t escape her.

“Oh, no,” Sarah said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply that. Jack would have my head for even suggesting such a thing. But you were hurting and Jack recognized it. If you want the truth, I think Jack should have been a doctor. It’s just part of his nature to want to help others.”

“I see.” Lacey wasn’t finding this conversation the least bit complimentary, but she couldn’t deny what Sarah said. For the last year she’d been walking around in a shell. Only when Jack came into her life did she understand how important it was to deal with her divorce.

Sarah sighed and set the menu aside. “Jack’s wonderful. That’s why it’s hard to understand why he’s so unreasonable about me and Mark.”

“I’ve never known Jack to be unreasonable.”

“But he is,” Sarah said, keeping her head lowered as if she was close to tears. “I love Mark; we want to be married someday. We just can’t marry now, for a number of reasons. Sometimes I think Jack hates him.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Lacey couldn’t imagine Jack hating anyone, but she could easily understand his being overprotective.

“It’s true,” Sarah said heatedly. “Jack refuses to have anything to do with Mark, and do you know why?” Lacey wasn’t given the opportunity to answer. “Because Jack thinks Mark’s using me. Nothing I can say will convince him otherwise. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, and it’s all because we’re living together. As far as I can see, my brother needs to wake up and smell the coffee.”

The waiter arrived with glasses of ice water and a basket filled with warm sourdough bread. Lacey smiled her appreciation, grateful for the interruption. The aroma of fresh bread was heavenly, but the conversation was becoming uncomfortable. She was not sure how to reply to Sarah. She was far more at ease having Sarah answer her questions about Jack than playing go-between for brother and sister. Jack might be overprotective, but she couldn’t imagine his disliking Mark without cause.

“What I’d really like is for you to talk to Jack for me,” Sarah said, her eyes wide and pleading. “He’ll listen to you, because—”

“I can’t do that, Sarah,” Lacey interrupted.

“I was hoping you’d consider it. I thought if you met Mark yourself, you’d be able to see how marvelous he is, and then you could tell Jack. You don’t mind if he joins us, do you?”

Once again, Lacey wasn’t given an opportunity to choose one way or the other. Sarah half rose from her seat and waved.

A sophisticated young man moved away from the bar and walked toward them, carrying his drink. Lacey studied Mark, trying to keep an open mind. As far as looks went, he was an attractive man. He kissed Sarah’s cheek, but his gaze moved smoothly to Lacey and lingered approvingly. They exchanged brief handshakes while Sarah made the introductions.

“I hope you don’t mind if I join you,” Mark said, pulling out a chair, “although every man here will think I’m greedy to be dining with the two most beautiful women in the room.”

Mark didn’t need to say another word for Lacey to understand Jack’s disapproval. He was much too smooth. And she didn’t like the way he looked at her—with a little too much curiosity. What she didn’t understand was how Sarah could be so blind.

“Sarah and I are in a bit of a quandary.” Mark reached for Sarah’s hand and gripped it in his own.

“We need help in dealing with Jack,” Sarah elaborated. “Mark suggested the two of us get together and talk to you about our problem. I’m not sure it’s wise, but Mark seems to think that you—”

“Right,” Mark cut in. “I feel you might say something that would smooth the waters between Sarah and her brother for me.”

“You want me to talk to Jack on your behalf?” she asked. Apparently Mark had no qualms about having her do his speaking for him. What Sarah’s lover failed to understand was that Jack would react negatively to such an arrangement. Whatever small respect he had for Mark would be wiped out.

“Just mention that you’ve met Mark,” Sarah coaxed. “You don’t need to make an issue of it. I’m sure he’d listen to you. You see, Jack’s living in the Middle Ages. Mark thinks Jack is jealous. My brother and I used to be really close—there wasn’t anything I couldn’t tell him.” A wistful look clouded her pretty features. “It isn’t like that anymore. It hurts, the way we argue. I can’t help agreeing that it seems like jealousy.”

Lacey wondered if that could possibly be true. “Jack’s met Mark?”

“Oh, yes, plenty of times. From the very first, Jack’s had a grudge against him.”

“We started off on the wrong foot,” Mark admitted dryly.

“What happened?” Lacey asked.

“Nothing,” Sarah said defensively. “Absolutely nothing. But I’ve never been serious about anyone before, and Jack just can’t deal with it.”

Lacey didn’t want to take sides, but she found herself saying, “I don’t know Jack all that well, but I can’t see him as the jealous sort.”

“I know, but you see, I’m crazy about Mark and Jack knows it, and the way Mark figures—and me too—my brother needs to accept the fact that his little sister is all grown up, and he refuses to do it.” Absently, Sarah tore off a piece of bread and held it between her hands, as if she wasn’t sure what to do with it. “Can you help us, Lacey?”

“I doubt it,” she said, as forthrightly and honestly as she could.

“Jack would listen to you,” Sarah said.

Lacey smiled softly at the fervor of Sarah’s belief that she had any influence on her brother. “I’m only his next-door neighbor.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said, her voice raised with the strength of her conviction. “Jack really likes you. More than anyone in a good long while.”

Lacey wasn’t sure of that either, but she let it pass. “You want me to tell your brother that you’re a mature woman capable of making her own decisions, whether he agrees with them or not.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said.

“That’s what he needs to hear,” Mark concurred.

“As an adult, you’re free to love whomever you wish,” Lacey said.

“Right again.” Sarah’s voice raised with the fervor of her conviction.

Mark smiled at Sarah and she smiled back. “We know what we’re doing, isn’t that right, baby?”

“I’m over twenty-one,” Sarah announced.

“You’re both competent judges of character,” Lacey said.

“Of course.” Sarah’s grin widened. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

They were momentarily interrupted by the waiter, who returned for their order.

“Jack’s not an unreasonable person,” Lacey continued. “If that’s the way you both feel, you don’t need me to tell him. Do it yourselves, together.”

“He won’t listen,” Sarah protested.

“Have you tried?”

Mark tore the roll in half and lowered his gaze. “Not exactly, but then it isn’t like we’ve had much of an opportunity.”

“Is it your living arrangement that’s troubling Jack?” Lacey asked.

“That isn’t permanent,” Sarah told her.

“We’ll be married someday,” Mark said. “But not right away. We want to be married on our terms and not have them dictated by an older brother.”

Lacey kept silent because she feared her own views on the subject wouldn’t be welcome. Over the years several of her friends had opted for live-in arrangements. It might have been the luck of the draw, but they’d all come out of the relationships with regrets.

“Loving Mark isn’t a mistake,” Sarah insisted a bit too strongly. “We’re perfect together.”

The waiter delivered their salads, but by then Lacey had lost her appetite.

“And Sarah’s perfect for me,” Mark added, before reaching for his fork and digging into the plump shrimp that decorated the top of his huge salad.

“Mark loves me, and I love him,” Sarah concluded. “As far as I’m concerned that’s the most important thing.”

Lacey saw that both Sarah and Mark felt they could change her mind. It was important to clear that up immediately. “I hope you can appreciate why I can’t speak to Jack on your behalf.”

“Yes,” Sarah said sadly. “I just wish Jack wasn’t so openly hostile.”

“Sarah?” The husky male voice came from behind her. “Lacey? What are you two doing here?”

It was Jack.