Believe in Me: A Rosewood Novel (47 page)

With Owen behind the wheel she’d been able to relax—as far as she was able—while quieting the kids enough to phone Margot to let her know they were on their way back. When she’d first called, Margot had wanted to come and join them at the hospital, but Jordan had told her that given Jade’s current state, keeping the appointment with Stuart Wilde was as important. She phoned Richard, too, giving him an update and striving to remain upbeat in the face of his repeated questions about the severity of Max’s injury.

“The orthopedist said Max’s break was very clean and that he should have no problem recovering from it. Yes, he’ll get the cast on Thursday. The splint is to make sure the swelling has a chance to come down. I’m to give him children’s Tylenol. No, nothing stronger. The stitches? Fourteen. No, it’s not that big, just a line above his elbow. The ER had a plastic surgeon on call, and he made the stitches really tiny so that Max’s scar will be minimal. They’ll be removed in ten days. No, the doctor said the cast wouldn’t interfere with them. Swimming? I don’t know, but I’ll ask. The accident was my fault. I shouldn’t have allowed Max to go downstairs without me. But he’s really all right, Richard. Would you like to speak to him?”

She’d passed her cell to Max, who was happy to retell the day’s adventure to his father. While he talked about
needles and shots and holding Mommy’s hand, she’d studied Owen in the rearview mirror.

He was staring ahead, negotiating the highway traffic. Twin furrows were etched between his brows as he frowned in concentration. Or was that a frown of irritation? After the hours they’d spent in the hospital, he’d be more than justified.

The last thing Owen would have envisioned when he offered her a no-strings-attached liaison would have been making an emergency trip to the hospital for her son, serving not only as a porter and chauffeur but as a guardian for her little girls. Today had been a tangled, sticky mess of complications and unwanted responsibilities if ever there was one. And Owen had the bloodstained, chocolate-streaked, tear-blotted shirt to prove it. She felt bad for having burdened him with so much, but also immensely grateful.

She also knew that she was more in love with him than ever.

In definite need of a shower and a shave, Owen had never looked more handsome in her eyes. Or more wonderful.

When calamity struck after her son’s disobedient solo adventure, Owen had been there for her and her three children. His steadiness had made it easier for her to stifle her own panic and focus on the kids. She kept remembering how Owen had carried Max to the car and then into the hospital’s emergency entrance, holding him with a care that pierced her heart.

If she hadn’t already been in love with Owen, that single act would have clinched it.

He’d been there in her hour of need, and not once had he leveled any criticism or blame at her for not having watched her young son more vigilantly.

This afternoon had served as an important parental wake-up call for Jordan. Max had reached a new stage
where his growing self-confidence and independence made him think he didn’t have to heed instructions. On a horse breeding farm, far more serious things could befall Max if he continued like this. Once she was assured that Max was fine and that she had her emotions fully under control, they were going to have a talk about listening to and obeying adults.

But first she needed to let Owen know how grateful she was. “Owen,” she said quietly.

“Hmm?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough—”

“No problem. Glad to be of help.” Still staring straight ahead, he flicked the indicator and made a left onto Piper’s Road. “What time is it?”

She glanced at her watch. “Six-thirty. I’m sorry to have put you through such an afternoon. You were wonderful—”

“Six-thirty already. At least the traffic will have thinned out. I should get to Alexandria before eight.”

“You’re going back to Alexandria? Tonight?” she asked in surprise.

He nodded. “With the kitchen gone and the master bath being ripped out tomorrow, I’ve decided it’ll be easier to move back into my apartment.”

A strange confusion filled her. She told herself it was probably just exhaustion that was making her feel worried and apprehensive. “So you won’t be staying with us? I thought you would be.”

“Thanks, but no. You’ve got enough going on here. I don’t want to get in the way.”

The vague apprehension turned into something hard and cold as it snaked about her heart, pulling tight. She knew him well enough that “I don’t want to get in the way” in Owen-speak meant: “I don’t want to be involved in the three-ring circus of your family life.” And though her mind had begun to grasp what was happening, for some reason
her mouth still opened, letting the pitiable words slip out. “You wouldn’t be in the way at all. Really. We’d love to have you—”

“That’s nice of you, but I think we’ll just be complicating things unnecessarily if I come and stay at Rosewood.”

She supposed this was as gentle a way to be told a relationship was over as one could expect. Now that she understood what Owen was up to, she could even predict his next words.

But if she actually had to hear him say that it had all been great fun but it might be better if they called it quits between them, she might very well begin bawling louder than ten Olivias combined.

Unfortunately the tears were starting anyway. “Of course,” she said, nodding vigorously so he wouldn’t see them. “Now that we’re in the homestretch of finishing work on Hawk Hill, I imagine you’ll begin focusing on other projects.”

Other projects, other women. The thought made Jordan want to scream in anguish, even as she reminded herself that Owen had never pretended to be interested in a long-term relationship. And he’d never lied and said he loved her.

Unfortunately she couldn’t glean a speck of comfort from Owen’s particular brand of honesty. The pain of knowing he actually planned to end the relationship was a hundred times worse than she’d anticipated. More tears pooled and she turned her head to stare blindly out the window.

Owen cast a sidelong glance at Jordan. God only knew he didn’t want to hurt her, which was why this was necessary. To delay breaking things off would only make it worse. How much worse he couldn’t imagine. It already felt as if his guts were being slowly shredded.

“Yes, I’ll be very busy over the next couple of weeks leading up to the Open House,” he said, forcing himself to look away from Jordan.

Yes, she echoed silently, he’d be busy running away from
four people who’d come to love him, and a flash of anger burst to life inside her, stronger even than the fear squeezing her heart.

The other day she had told Ned that after the heartbreak of her failed marriage, she didn’t have it in her to fight for a man’s love again. But maybe she’d been wrong.

Thanks to the infuriating man seated beside her, she was a stronger woman now. Owen had done so much for her; didn’t he deserve to have her fight for him? So they could both win?

Perhaps Owen needed a taste of his own medicine. She’d learned a lot about acting this past year; she could play at being emotionally detached. Summoning every ounce of skill she possessed, she gave him a blithe smile.

“I understand. It’s probably time for me to begin dating other men anyway. You wouldn’t want me to get too attached to you.”

“No. I mean
yes
—” he broke off.

His frown was sweetly satisfying.

“Of course you’ll be a very hard act to follow,” Jordan said lightly as if they were discussing his wallpaper-removing technique instead of his lovemaking. “Here’s the driveway to Hawk Hill. Why don’t you pull in so I can drop you off? You’ll get to Alexandria that much sooner.”

Owen’s frown deepened. “That’s all right. You’ll need help getting the kids out of the car and everything.”

“Oh, don’t worry about us. Margot probably won’t be back from Stuart Wilde’s yet, but Travis will be there. We’ll be fine.”

Owen couldn’t seem to unclench his jaw. Nor could he summon a logical excuse why he needed to make sure Max was okay when he woke up other than that he’d be worried about him the whole way back to Alexandria, so he did as Jordan suggested. Pulling up next to his Audi, he put the van in park, leaving the engine running so as not to rouse the kids. Then he and Jordan got out.

Jordan circled the van. Owen was watching her warily as if he didn’t know quite what to expect from her: a slap, tears, or more seemingly cheerful indifference. A rattled Owen Gage was a good thing.

If he believed he could walk away from what they had together, shutting the door to his heart in the same way he shut the door on the houses he built and restored, simply handing over the keys and moving on, he was quite mistaken.

She loved him with her heart and soul, damn it.

Just because he was too emotionally obtuse to see how good, how special it was between them, she wasn’t.

Her thoughts propelled her, brought her toe-to-toe to where he stood. She had a fleeting wish that she looked less like she’d spent the past three hours in an emergency room, but the flare in Owen’s eyes, that set the flecks in them sparkling like topaz, told her he wasn’t immune to her nearness, disheveled and rumpled though she was.

She leaned closer to him, loving the heat of his solid muscular body. “I really can’t thank you enough for how wonderful you were today. In case you didn’t know it, you’ve attained hero status in Max, Kate, and Olivia’s eyes. They adore you. And I …”

Intentionally she let the sentence trail off into the stillness of the late afternoon. Sliding her hands up his shirt, she lightly caressed the stubble of his five-o’clock shadow.

At her touch, Owen had become like a sun-warmed stone. And beneath her fingers his pulse pounded heavily, telling her everything she wanted to know.

Arching into him, she tilted her head and raised her lips to his. In an achingly slow glide, she brushed her mouth against his, back and forth, stoking the passion she knew was there for her. The hammering of his pulse redoubled. Pressing closer still, she traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue.

A deep rumble, part moan, part groan escaped him. The
sound was desperate, as if he were being rent in two. He opened his mouth, drinking her in even as his tongue thrust, meeting hers.

The frantic tangle of their tongues mating sent shivers rippling through her. Trembling, she poured her love and passion for him into the kiss until they were both breathless from the desire that never failed to ignite between them. A desire made wondrous and sweet because it came from the heart. She understood this. She wanted Owen to, as well.

She allowed herself a last caress over the lean planes of his beard-roughened cheeks and one final liquid graze of their lips before stepping back. She couldn’t help that her smile was tremulous. How could it not be when Owen made her feel so much? When she longed to tell him how she loved him?

But if she told him now, she was sure it would only cement his decision to end their relationship. Better to keep him off-balance while she waged her battle for his heart.

“So I guess I’ll see you around. Have a good drive back to Alexandria,” she said, slipping into the driver’s seat before she gave into the urge to fling her arms about his neck and tell him what was in her heart—that she loved everything about him.

Only the stunned look on his face as he watched her turn the car around kept her foot steady on the accelerator. But as she drove away from Hawk Hill, her lips moved in a fervent prayer that she wasn’t wrong about Owen’s feelings for her. Otherwise the man who had restored her broken heart would be walking away with it.

I
T TOOK
O
WEN
ten days to comprehend that Jordan might actually be
trying
to drive him insane.

He should have been alerted to this when she’d dropped him off at Hawk Hill with her diabolical “And I …” She’d left him hanging, to be tormented by the wealth of possibilities her unfinished sentence left in his mind.

She’d played with his mind and his body, kissing him with a passion that stole his breath as it robbed him of his heart. Then, with nothing more than a “See you,” she was gone, driving away, without having told him how she felt.

He’d wanted to sprint after the minivan and demand she finish her sentence. But he hadn’t, because if she said what he craved to hear, that she loved him, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He wasn’t the kind of man Jordan needed.

Over the next week, he’d followed his tried-and-true prescription for easing his way out of a relationship. He threw himself into work. But instead of wandering over to Rosewood afterward, he drove back to his Alexandria apartment, a place he’d come to despise. Once there, Owen did his best to block Jordan from his thoughts or let himself imagine what she and the kids might be doing at that particular moment.

It would have been easier to rewire his brain than not think of her.

The realization forced him to recognize how much he’d
changed since meeting Jordan. Whereas before he’d been his own starring concern, now everything in his life seemed to come back to her.