All That I Need (Grayson Friends) (13 page)

“I’m on my way,” she answered, and cringed on hearing the shakiness in her voice.

“You all right?”

“Yes. I was trying not to come early and just lost track of time. I’m hanging up because I can’t wait any longer.” Disconnecting the call, she hurried out the door. She wasn’t going to spoil tonight for them.

She rushed down the path, her low-heeled sandals clacking on the paver stones. She rounded a huge potted plant and came to a complete stop. Her mouth formed a silent O.

Floating spheres of lotus blossom lights bobbed in the pool. Lance stood on the loggia with a long-stemmed red rose in one hand, a wine flute in the other. Instead of the rattan table, there was a smaller one draped with a white tablecloth. On top was a five-tier lit chandelier.

“Say something,” he said, sounding nervous.

Tears formed in her eyes. She blinked them away. Somehow she made her feet move until she was within arm’s reach of him. “I make my living with words, but this…” She extended her hand toward him and the pool and swallowed. “No one has ever made me feel as special as I do at this moment.”

“Stop looking at me like that, or I’ll spill your wine and we’ll miss a great dinner.” He handed her the rose and the wine.

Her unsteady hands closed around the stem of the glass and the rose. He lifted his flute. “To second chances.”

“Second chances.” She sipped, then took the seat he pulled out.

He lifted a domed lid. “Prime rib, baked potato, and asparagus.”

Steam tendrils wafted up from her plate. She placed her glass aside as he took his seat and said grace. “Do you have genies in your kitchen?”

“Carmen stayed and cooked.” He picked up his knife and fork. “Oskar and his father helped me with the lights.”

Fallon still couldn’t take it all in. “Nothing could have pleased me more.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.”

Fallon laughed. “You might have a point.”

“I like hearing you laugh.” He cut into his beef. “It was one of the things I missed. I’m glad you trusted me enough to come back for the weekend.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

He picked up his glass. “How long is your assignment with the food editor?”

“Off and on for a month. She’ll have to get back to her magazine from time to time,” Fallon explained, sure Lance was going to ask her for dates and times so he could visit her.

He nodded. “I can’t wait to read the article you wrote about this place. When do you think it will come out?”

Disappointed, Fallon fought to keep the smile on her face. “In a couple of weeks for the newspaper, and in a travel magazine in two to three months.”

“Be sure and let me know so I can get copies.” He stopped eating and stared across the table at her. “You’re not eating.”

“Just thinking about tomorrow.”

“I’m trying not to.” A frown on his face, he sat back in his chair. “The time went by so fast.”

Fallon perked up a bit. He
did
care. “But I’ll be back.”

“I’m not sure I can wait that long,” he said.

More encouraging words to hear. She’d just have to be patient. He’d say something about them getting together before the night was over. Assured she was right, she picked up her knife and fork. It was going to be all right. She’d worried for nothing.

*   *   *

Fallon woke up in Lance’s arms Sunday morning, but this time she wasn’t smiling. Doubts that she had pushed aside last night refused to budge this morning. Lance hadn’t said anything before they fell asleep about a future for them. She didn’t hold out much hope he’d say anything this morning.

The slow glide of his hand down her naked back had awakened her. She would have thought he’d awakened her to make love, but he never deepened the pressure, never touched her anyplace else to inflame her senses.

Misery swamped her. Before now, he hadn’t seemed able to touch her without wanting to kiss her or make love to her. Now, she didn’t seem to matter. She’d gambled and lost. Pride dictated he never know how much he’d hurt her or that she loved him.

She rolled away from him and got out of bed. Naked, she felt exposed. She saw the dress she’d worn last night hanging off the foot of the bed and reached for it.

“There’s nothing much at the airport to eat. You want to leave early and grab a bite?” Lance asked.

Fallon pulled the dress over her head before turning. The sheet pushed to his waist, he leaned on one elbow and stared at her. After all they’d shared, his eyes were once again impersonal. Perhaps, to him, they’d shared nothing but a few hot moments.

“I’m not hungry.” Food was the furthest thing from her mind.

Frowning, Lance threw back the covers and got out of bed, unconcerned by his nakedness. His brows furrowed, he crossed to her. “You feel all right?”

She kept her gaze on his face instead of the body that had inflamed her senses. “I never eat much when I fly. I better get showered and dressed.”

“Your plane doesn’t leave for another three hours.” He frowned down at her.

She picked up her weekender. “I like arriving early. Besides, I promised Naomi I’d call and I want to have enough time to catch up on how things are going for the wedding.” This time she made good her escape.

In the bathroom, her arms wrapped around her waist, she sat on the commode. She loved a man who had only wanted a convenient bed partner. She brushed away the tears threatening to fall. She was stronger than that.

Standing, she pulled off her dress and stepped into the shower. She’d leave him with a jaunty wave and a smile on her lips. Perhaps she should have listened to Megan after all.

*   *   *

Lance had wondered how today would unfold, but never in a million years would he have thought Fallon would be so anxious to leave. Or that he would want so badly to ask her to stay.

He’d already accepted that there couldn’t be a future for them, had told her as much in the beginning. Yet he was finding out as he glanced at her while they took the road to the airport that saying something and being able to stick with it were two different things.

This morning, when he’d awakened with her in his arms, he’d felt a blissful peace he’d never experienced before. He’d been content to just hold her. When she’d awakened, he’d wanted to ask her if he could fly out to her assignment, but she had been so anxious to leave he hadn’t said anything for fear she’d turn him down. Something had changed between last night and this morning, and he wasn’t sure what.

He parked in front of the airport terminal. Fallon got out of the car and arrived at the trunk of his car before he did.

She glanced at her watch. She couldn’t wait to be away from him. Unlocking the trunk, he reached for her bags.

“Thanks. I have them.” She straightened with her garment bag, camera bag, and weekender.

“I’ll take them in for you.”

“No need. See you around.” On tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. “Take care, Lance.”

He didn’t know what to say to the easy brush-off. It was all he could do not to reach out to her. “I’ll call.”

She shrugged her elegant shoulders. “Suit yourself, but I’ll be on the road and I’m not sure about reception.”

His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans. She couldn’t have made it any plainer. “Good-bye, Fallon.”

Without another word, she walked into the airport terminal. She didn’t look back.

*   *   *

Inside the terminal, Fallon went through Security and directly to her gate. Her sunshades firmly in place, she stared out the window. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. Swallowing repeatedly, she fought to keep the tears at bay.

She couldn’t even blame Lance for the way things ended. He’d made no promises. She’d walked into this with her eyes wide open. She’d foolishly thought that he cared, that after they’d made love he would change his mind.

She sniffed. What did that old song say about love making a fool of you? She certainly qualified, but she’d survive. She’d get over him. At the wedding, she’d show him that he meant nothing to her. Perhaps one day she wouldn’t be lying.

Chapter 9

Unable to help himself, Lance had marked off each of the days Fallon was gone. He’d never missed anything or anyone as much or been as anxious to see them again.

Parking in the church’s parking lot, he got out of his car. He didn’t see Richard’s truck, which was understandable, since Lance was thirty minutes early for the wedding rehearsal. He blew out an aggravated breath and leaned against the door of his rental.

His plane from Tucson had landed that morning in Albuquerque. He’d picked up his rental and driven straight to the Yates house. He hadn’t stopped until he was back in the cottage he and Fallon had shared. Memories had washed over him, not just the intimate ones but those of hearing her laughter, of her teasing him, of him holding her.

He’d relived the scene of their last morning together over and over and still didn’t know why she’d gone to sleep with her arms around his neck and awakened anxious to leave him.

A SUV he recognized as Naomi’s pulled up in the parking lot. Immediately behind were Richard’s truck and two other trucks and cars Lance didn’t recognize. He straightened, hoping Fallon was in one of the vehicles.

The front passenger door of Naomi’s SUV opened and Fallon stepped out. Lance had thought he was prepared to see her again. He wasn’t.

He didn’t expect the tightness in his gut, the almost overwhelming need to hold her. He’d missed her every day she had been gone, had even searched the Internet to find any tidbit of information on her articles. The one she’d done on the Yates auction had been published and was very well written. He’d received several inquiries directly related to her article, but he’d heard nothing from her.

Their gazes touched. He was moving before he knew it. She turned away and opened the back door. His mother got out. He stopped abruptly. It hit him that he was looking at the first and the last women who had rejected him.

Car and truck doors slammed. People were laughing, talking, and heading toward the steps of the church.

“Hi, Lance. Come on.” Richard beckoned with his arm around Naomi’s waist, his hand holding Kayla’s.

There were more people greeting Lance. He didn’t look at the man who’d married his mother to know or care if he’d spoken. Lance did catch his mother looking at him, but his gaze was centered on Fallon, who led the way into the church. Nothing had changed. She wanted no part of him.

*   *   *

“I can’t do this,” Fallon murmured. But she glanced back at the happy faces of Richard and Naomi and stiffened her spine. She wasn’t ruining this for them because she’d made a mistake.

Naomi spoke quietly to Richard, then went to Fallon and took her hands. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m fine.” Despite her intention, she looked at the door for Lance before she chastised herself and glanced away. She’d worn the dress she wore for her going-away party to show him what he’d lost. A huge mistake, since the dress now hung instead of cupping and tempting. She was a slow learner.

“You should go back to the apartment and rest,” Naomi suggested quietly. “Richard will understand.”

Fallon’s hands tightened. “You said you wouldn’t tell him. I know I’m asking—”

“I didn’t tell him. I’m just worried about you,” Naomi interrupted. “I just wish there was more I could do.”

“You’re already doing it by being my friend.”

“Naomi, we need to get started.” There was impatience in the woman’s voice.

Fallon glanced around to see Mrs. Lincoln, the wedding planner Naomi hadn’t been too thrilled to have but one Richard’s mother wanted. Her thin lips were pinched. Since Naomi already loved her future-mother-in law, she’d agreed.

“We’re coming,” Naomi said; then she turned to Fallon. “If you have to leave, just do it.”

“I’m fine for now and, since Mrs. Lincoln is giving us the eye, we better move it.” Taking Naomi’s arm, Fallon joined the group at the back of the church, making sure that she was nowhere near Lance. It wouldn’t remain that way, since they were paired up, but she’d cross that bridge when the time came.

*   *   *

Lance was fully prepared to ignore Fallon at the wedding rehearsal as she’d ignored him until he really got a good look at her as they waited for their cue to go down the aisle together. She remained beautiful, but she was pale and didn’t look well. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes. She didn’t fill out the straight dress as he remembered. Had she lost weight?

“Hello, Fallon.”

She turned her cool gaze on him. “Hello, Lance. How’s the auction business?”

His eyes narrowed at her condescending tone. “Fine. How’s the travel business?”

“Couldn’t be better. It’s our turn.”

Lance walked beside her down the aisle and decided to bide his time. Had she gotten ill?

“Mr. Saxton, eyes straight ahead,” requested the wedding planner.

Lance complied with difficulty. Something was wrong with Fallon. The thought of her being ill or hurt made his gut knot. She could be pissed at him all she wanted, but he was going to find out what was the matter with her. She was probably too stubborn to see a doctor. They were all going to Brandon’s restaurant afterward for a rehearsal dinner; Lance would get his answers then.

*   *   *

Lance found that Fallon was more difficult to corner than he’d thought. She sat at the other end of the tables pushed together at the restaurant. Fifteen minutes after they were seated, she got up, spoke briefly to Naomi, and left. Lance assumed Fallon would return, but after five minutes passed and there was no sign of her he asked Naomi if she was coming back.

“No,” Naomi answered, not quite meeting his gaze.

“Lance, please sit down. I’d like to make a little speech,” Richard’s father requested.

Lance took his seat until his uncle finished, then excused himself and went outside to call Fallon’s cell phone. It rolled into voice mail. Returning his phone to his pocket, he went back inside the restaurant. Tomorrow she wasn’t going to escape him.

*   *   *

The morning of the wedding dawned beautiful and clear. Despite how busy Fallon was helping Naomi and keeping Kayla entertained, there were moments that Lance slipped into her mind. The most painful moment was standing in the bride’s room and seeing Naomi in her wedding gown. Fallon would never have this with Lance, never know the excitement of being a bride.