All That I Need (Grayson Friends) (17 page)

BOOK: All That I Need (Grayson Friends)
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“You might say that.” He looked at the photo, then at her. “I remember you saying that your parents planted a tree when they brought Megan home from the hospital. I thought, why wait to celebrate our child. “

“What?” She straightened.

Lance slid the photo file on the cell phone. “Here are the choices of pots at the nursery. They’re closed now, but we could go in the morning to select one … if you’d like. Francisco thinks we should plant it in the ground, but regardless, he’s promised to help take care of it.”

“You want to plant a tree?” she asked as if she was having trouble taking it all in.

“Your parents might not have been aware of it, but they started a beautiful tradition that I’d like to continue, only do it a little earlier.” Reaching into the handled bag on the floor, he pulled out an embossed raspberry-colored journal and handed it to her. He’d chosen it because it was the color of her knit top when she came to the Yates house. “The Yateses had the right idea about leaving something behind. I thought you could keep track of things for the baby so one day he or she could pass it down to their child.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Lance.”

His chest felt tight. “Don’t cry. It wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”

She smiled through her tears and hugged the journal to her breasts. “They’re good tears.” Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. Our baby will know what a wonderful father he or she has.”

Lance was glad Fallon was looking at the journal instead of at him. He didn’t plan on being a long-distance father. A quick change of plans. “It’s still light outside. What do you say we take a drive out to the house and pick out a couple of spots for the pot or the tree?”

“I—”

“The trip will be the first note in the journal,” he tempted. “It won’t take long.”

She bit her lower lip in indecision; then she smiled at him again. “All right. Let’s go.”

*   *   *

Maybe it was feeling better, the good food, or just Fallon wanting to spend part of the last evening in Santa Fe with Lance, or perhaps she just wanted to give him some good memories to replace the horrible ones of losing his first child.

Or perhaps a little bit of each, but against her better judgment, she was going to Lance’s house again.

She thought she might feel awkward on seeing the guest cottage where they’d first made love. She didn’t. She reasoned it might have something to do with the baby she carried. She wouldn’t lie to herself. There were moments that she wished she and Lance had been married when she conceived, but she loved her baby regardless. Motherhood was a scary prospect, but she had eight months to adjust.

Lance kept the conversation going smoothly as they walked the grounds searching for the perfect spot to place the sycamore tree.

“I think it should be by the front door.” Lance looked around the garden near the pond.

“I Googled the tree and they can grow eighty feet or more. Let’s plant it here in the ground where the tree branches can shade him or her and later their grandchildren can climb,” Fallon said softly, her arm circling her stomach.

Lance nodded, swallowed. “Then here it is.”

She didn’t know if he was thinking of the child he’d lost or the child she carried. He was inches away from her and it seemed like miles. She didn’t know if losing his child had made him so self-contained or something else in his past, or a combination of the two. She did know he had a wall built around him that she wasn’t sure she could scale.

They had been lovers, but they were practically strangers. Now they were going to be parents. How could they ever hope to be anything meaningful to each other and raise a child together if they didn’t talk about their innermost fears, their hopes, and their dreams?

Fallon wanted to touch him, comfort him, and this time she didn’t hesitate. She circled his waist with her arm and looked up at him.
We’ll always love you.
“What if we get two trees?”

His stunned gaze snapped to hers; then he looked out over the verdant backyard. “Two it is.”

“I better get back.” Her arms dropped to her sides and she stepped away.

His reaction was immediate.

“Stay. We’ll help Francisco plant the trees.”

She wanted to. “I think it’s best you take me back.”

“For whom?” He caught her arms. “What do you want from me? I’m doing the best I can.”

The last sentence shocked her. It was more than just him asking her to stay. The pain in his voice went much deeper.

He let her go so quickly she swayed. His hand shot out to steady her, then released her again. “I’ll take you back.” He stepped aside for her to continue on the winding path back to the car.

His expression was closed, remote, but his eyes were filled with the same pain she’d heard moments earlier in his voice. “Who hurt you?” The words just slipped out.

He flinched. “I’ll take you back,” he repeated.

She started for the car. He wasn’t going to explain himself. She’d waste her breath asking.

She stopped at the wooden door leading into the inner courtyard and looked back to where the trees would be planted, then at him. “Take care of yourself.”

His movements agitated, he unlatched the door and closed it when she passed through. Moving quickly ahead of her, he opened the car door.

“Thank you.”

As she suspected, the door slammed shut. He was angry.
Well, let him be,
she thought as he got inside and started the engine. Life had dealt him a cruel blow, but he didn’t get a pass because of it.

He put the car into a sharp spin and turned around. He shifted gears. The foreign sports car barreled down the road and would have made Faith’s brother, Cameron, a NASCAR driver, envious.

“If you plan to speed, let me out and I’ll call a cab.”

He didn’t say anything, but the car slowed. He kept his speed under the posted limit the rest of the way to Naomi’s apartment. As soon as he stopped in front, Fallon opened her door.

“I apologize if I frightened you. I wouldn’t do anything to harm you or our baby.” His hands were clamped around the steering wheel.

She started to just get out, leave him to whatever devils plagued him. She couldn’t. “Not intentionally perhaps, but would you have slowed down if I hadn’t asked you?”

“I’m not sure.”

She blew out a breath. “Well, you better damn well be sure. I don’t plan to be a single parent, so take your anger and frustration out someplace else other than in a car.” Getting out, she slammed the door and started for her apartment.

He caught her when she was about to enter the apartment. “I only lose my temper with you.”

“How lucky does that make me?”

He opened his mouth, then took her into his arms, held her tight. “I missed you when you left. Both times. And now you’re back and you’re leaving again and taking our baby.”

Her arms automatically lifted to hug him back. She knew what he meant, but her lips still twitched. “It’s not like you can carry the baby.”

She felt his body shake with laughter. She leaned her head back. “Thanks for the smile. I didn’t want to leave with us angry at each other.”

“Me, either.” His hands flexed. “Can I take you to the airport tomorrow?”

“Pick me up at eight. Good night, Lance.”

“Good night.” Releasing her, he stepped back. “I’m not giving up on talking you into staying until you walk through Security. Sleep well.”

Entering the apartment, Fallon leaned against the door and admitted she wasn’t sure she wanted him to give up.

Her cell phone rang. She quickly dug it out of her purse. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow, huh?”

“Fallon?”

Fallon glanced at the readout, although she knew it was Naomi. “What are you doing calling me instead of enjoying that yummy vet of yours?”

“Checking on you, but you sound as if I wasted a call.” Laughter came through the phone.

Fallon took a seat on the sofa, her smile fading. “Lance and I are talking, but I’m still going home to Austin tomorrow.”

“Oh, Fallon. I’m so sorry. I’d hoped things would work out.”

“Me, too.” Fallon leaned her head against the cushions. “There’s something eating at him, and until he can talk about it openly to me we’ll never be able to move past it and see if we can be a couple.”

“You want that, don’t you?”

Fallon sighed. “I love the stubborn man. But he’s also kind, considerate. He was wonderful with Kayla.”

Naomi laughed. “She likes her cousin Lance as well.”

“He can grow on you,” Fallon admitted.

“Then why are you giving up?” Naomi asked. “Where would I be if Richard had given up on me? Miserable instead of in a fabulous honeymoon suite and so in love and happy I want to shout it from the rooftop.”

“Just say the word.”

Fallon heard Richard’s comment and laughed. “You both did good.”

“But it wasn’t easy,” Naomi finally said. “You and Catherine helped me get over my fears of being vulnerable again. Now it’s my turn to help you. Kayla is enjoying her new grandparents enough so that I feel we can leave on our honeymoon tomorrow. We’ll be gone until Sunday. Stay in the apartment and work things out with Lance.”

“I don’t know.” Fallon blew out a breath and came upright.

“If you leave tomorrow without giving yourself a chance, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Sometimes we don’t get a second chance.” Naomi spoke from experience.

“I’ll think about it,” Fallon said. “Go enjoy your husband and have a great time at Playa del Carmen.”

“We will. Good night.”

“Good night.” Fallon disconnected the call, then leaned back once again on the sofa and circled her waist with her arms. “What do you say, give Daddy another chance or get the hell out of Dodge before I fall even deeper for him?”

*   *   *

Lance had another chance, and he didn’t plan to waste it. By six the next morning he was up, dressed, and walking out of the cottage on the Yates estate. For some odd reason he hadn’t even thought of moving into the main house. He certainly had the means and the access to furnish the entire place, but he was comfortable in the guesthouse.

Lance made the first of two stops fifteen minutes later. By the time seven fifty arrived, he’d accomplished everything on his list. Parking a couple of doors down from Naomi’s apartment, he knocked on the door.

Fallon slowly opened the door. Gone was her smile. Her hair was in some kind of off-kilter ponytail. Her pale face was free of makeup. She wore a yellow knit top and khaki slacks with black house slippers.

“You sick?”

She stared at him as if she’d like to throw him out the window of a very tall building. “What was your first clue?”

Lance didn’t’ think of answering. “Let’s get you some ginger ale and crackers.”

“No time.” She started for her luggage.

“Fallon, you can’t seriously be thinking of flying when you’re ill.” He picked up the weekender and held it just out of reach of her outstretched hand.

She gave him that look again. “Pregnancy is not an illness.”

“You have your house shoes on,” he said, feeling at least that was safe to point out.

She sat in the nearest chair, closed her eyes for a moment, toed off the slippers, and didn’t move.

“Where are your shoes?”

“Bedroom, I think.”

Lance found the high-heeled sandals and returned. He started to ask if she had any flat shoes, but he wasn’t sure of her response. Instead he opened her luggage, found a pair of ballerina slippers, and exchanged them for the heels. Bending, he put the slippers on her feet. “If you’d like, I don’t mind changing your flight reservations to tomorrow or whenever you’d like.”

“We’ve decided to get the hell out of Dodge.” Fallon came unsteadily to her feet.

Lance was pretty sure she meant her and the baby. He picked up the garment and camera bag and followed her out the door and placed her things in the trunk of his car. “How will Naomi get her key back?”

“I left it on the kit—” Fallon gasped, looked back at Lance, then at the two net-covered trees on the back of a larger black truck.

The look on her face was so astonished, he knew he’d done the right thing. He curved his arm around her shoulders. “I wanted you to see them even if you couldn’t help plant them.”

“Oh, Lance.” She wiped away tears.

Lance really wished she’d stop that. He gave her his handkerchief and motioned for the two men sitting in the truck to join them. “Fallon, you’ve already met Oskar. I’d like you to meet his father, Francisco Fuente. Francisco, this is Fallon Marshall.”

Francisco removed his straw hat. “Pleased to meet you at last, Miss Marshall. I saw you at the auction.”

“The gardens at the Yates house are beautiful,” she said.

“Thank you.” He looked at the trees. “Now, once these are planted they will be even more beautiful.”

Fallon burst into tears. The three stunned men looked at one another for help. Lance hugged her, kissed the top of her head. “Please don’t cry. I won’t give you another surprise if you keep crying.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Francisco said, his hat pressed to his chest.

Fallon sniffed and shook her head. “You didn’t. What you said was just so beautiful.”

The older man smiled. “I spoke from the heart.”

Oskar laughed and placed his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Father would have been a poet if not a landscape designer.”

“Gardener and proud of it.” He jabbed a finger into his son’s chest. “You will be the landscape designer. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we better get going.”

“Thanks, Francisco. Oskar. I’ll see you in a bit.” His arm still around Fallon, Lance helped her into his car.

Fallon twisted around in the seat to see the truck head out of the parking lot. “Do they plan to plant them now?”

“Not until I get there. I want to start digging the holes. Francisco said you picked a good location.” Lance backed out of the parking space and followed the truck to the street. The Silverado went left and Lance right. “We’ll be at the airport in ten minutes.” He hoped by then he would have thought of a way to keep her with him.

*   *   *

“Stop the car!”

Lance threw a frightened look at Fallon, saw her holding her hand over her mouth, and sped up to pass the car on the outside lane. Flicking on his signal, he pulled into the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant.

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