Blindsided (Indigo Love Spectrum) (17 page)

BOOK: Blindsided (Indigo Love Spectrum)
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Reese’s heart pumped triple time.
Jack Armstrong!
“No, no,” Diana said, grabbing Reese’s hand before
she turned around. “Don’t look.”

“Don’t look?” Reese whispered. The cutest, smartest,
most popular boy in school had just walked into the restaurant, and her best friend had confirmed a hope
she’d harbored for weeks, him to be interested in her, and
now she couldn’t look at him? “Why can’t I look?”

“Because he’s coming over.” Diana brushed her hand
over her long ponytail. “Just stay cool,” she said.

A brief shadow covered the table and then Jack came
into view beside Diana. Six feet, one hundred seventy
p
ounds of beautiful, brown muscles showcased wonder
fully in a tank shirt and knee-length shorts. Full smiling
lips displayed perfectly straight pristine white teeth, and
hazel eyes sparkled against his sweat-glistened skin. Reese
reached for her cup, taking a long sip of the fruity
lemonade. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she was
having a hot flash.

“Hello, Diana,” Jack said, his unwavering gaze on Reese.

“Hi, Jack,” she said, grinning at Reese before reaching
for her cup. “I’m going to get a refill.”

Without breaking eye contact, Jack slid into Diana’s
chair. “Reese, how are you doing?” he said.

“Good,” she squeaked out. “You?”

“Okay, just getting in a run. Decided to dash in for a
cold drink. That’s been my best move all day.” He smiled.

Reese’s heart leapt into her throat. Her lips curled in response. If Jack taking a first step toward her could make
her feel this good, meeting her father halfway in their
journey to forming a familial bond could only make
things easier for them. She couldn’t make any promises,
but with Jack’s smile urging her on, she was certainly
willing to give her father a try.

* * *

 

Two hours of homebound solitude provided Dahlia
the opportunity to shed her tears, shout out her frustrations, and dive headfirst into a bag of chips. It all helped,
but now she had to deal with the guilt. She sighed. Why
w
as she the only female offspring of Wilson and Nona
Sinclair who had a conscience? Dahlia tossed the empty
bag and the mountain of crumpled tissues into the trash.
“Treadmill, here I come.”

The doorbell rang as she made her way upstairs to
change out of her church clothes and into workout
clothes. Her heart slammed against her chest. That was
Norris. She could feel it. A part of her, a huge part,
wanted to pull open the door, leap into his arms, and
never let him go. But a smaller part, the more vocal part,
reminded her of how she’d spent the last two hours, and
why seeing Norris wouldn’t be a good idea.

Norris knocked on the door. “Dahlia, I know you’re
in there. Please let me in. We need to talk.” He knocked
again after a few moments. “Please.”

After arguing with herself about the many reasons she
shouldn’t open the door, Dahlia pulled it open and
stepped back. She immediately regretted her decision
upon seeing him standing there. Norris was too hand
some and her emotions way too rocky to deal with him
now.

His face lit up, making her want to slam the door
even more. She was not strong enough to deal with him
now.

“I knew you were in there,” he said.

“You were right,” Dahlia said, fighting her natural
response to smile back, well aware encouraging him would
not be wise. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I do.” He moved forward, but she blocked his way.
Norris sighed. “You’re not going to let me in?” His gaze
s
wept over her. “Why are you dressed up? You going
somewhere?” He looked closer. “Were you crying?”

“Norris.”

“No.” He bullied himself in. “I’m not leaving until
you tell me what’s wrong.”

Dahlia closed the door and followed him to the
couch. “What are you . . . You can’t just barge into my
house!”

“I’ve already done it.” He sat. “Are you going to tell me
what’s wrong, or am I gonna have to pry it out of you?”

“Oh, like that love I’m supposed to be feeling for you
after you bared your soul last night? You can’t make me
do or feel anything, Norris.”

His face reddened. “Okay, okay. Maybe I deserve
that. But as well as I know something’s bothering you, I
know you love me. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“Is that why you’re here? To get some heartfelt confes
sion out of me?”

“Only in my dreams,” he said, settling back on the
couch. “No, I came here to apologize. I was a bit brusque
last night.”

“Is that what you were?”

“I’m not apologizing for what I said. I’m apologizing
for how I said it. I never imagined I would tell any
woman I loved her. It just wasn’t something I thought was in me. But, Dahlia, for the past couple of weeks,
there’s been a change.”

She held up her hand, using her open palm as a force
field to shield her from Norris’s words and everything he
made her feel. “Norris, please. We’ve done this.”


No, we haven’t. When we were together in my
office on Friday, I wanted to say it then. I felt the words
bubbling in you, too. I kept quiet for one reason, the
same reason I’ve forced myself to be quiet for so long.
Because I didn’t want to have my words push you away.
I know you’ve been hurt, and you’ve sworn against rela
tionships and love, but we have a relationship, and we
are
in love.”

“Damn it, Norris! Stop it! I cannot do this today.”
She stomped to the door and whipped it open. “Leave!”

“No.” Norris moved to the middle of the floor, his
arms crossed. “What’s bothering you? I want to believe
it’s just me, and what happened between us last night,
but not even I am that vain. Something’s hurting you,
and I’m not leaving here until you tell me what it is.” He
waved his hand in a motion for her to close the door. “If
you want to share your air-conditioning with all of
Denburg, feel free. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Dahlia stayed motionless for a long while. Hearing
Norris, but not wanting to hear him. Needing him, and
hating she did. Loving him, but wanting to scratch his
eyes out for making her deal with love when she didn’t
want to. Loss of control. That’s what love did to her. And
she was supposed to be happy about it?

The clack of Italian loafers against her hardwood
floor signaled Norris’s approach. Dahlia stiffened when
she caught a whiff of his cologne, even before the heat of
his body burned against her back. His breath tickled her
neck as he reached around her and pushed the door
closed. Her knees buckled. If he touched her, she would
c
rack. She would lose the last bit of strength keeping her
together and fall completely apart.

“You’re going to talk to me, Dahlia.”

Her body trembled when his hand slid down her arm,
and the dam holding back her tears broke completely.
Instead of fighting and fleeing, she gave in. Turning into
Norris’s open arms, Dahlia wrapped her arms around
him and took comfort in his soothing words. His arms
tightened around her. Dahlia drew closer. And for the
first time since hearing her sister’s news, even through her
wracking sobs, she felt happy.

Chapter 11

“I made you some tea,” Norris said when Dahlia
returned from changing out of her Sunday finest and into
the customary jumbo T-shirt and spandex joggers that
made up her workout gear. “It’s that mint and lemon
flavor you like.” He offered her a steaming mug. “I didn’t
add anything to it, but I brought out a couple of those yellow packets you use.”

“Thank you, Norris, but you didn’t have to do this. I
told you I was fine.”

“Yes, you said that, but I wasn’t totally convinced.”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon on a warm spring
day, and you’re offering me hot tea. Who’s the one having
issues here?”

Norris smiled. In hindsight, maybe the tea wasn’t his
swiftest move. “It sounded like a good idea when I did
it,” he said. “I thought it would calm you.”

“I’m calm now.”

“Why can’t I believe that?”

“I don’t know. Don’t I look calm to you?”

“You look resigned.”

“I am.” Dahlia stood and kicked up her left leg,
holding it against her backside and stretching. She
reversed the action with her right leg. “Now, I’m going to
work out.”

“Burn off the chips, eh?”

“You were rifling through my trashcan?”

“Didn’t have to rifle. The empty bag is barely covered
by that half box of tissues you have piled on top of it.
Tears and chips? Not a good combination for a self-pro
claimed chipoholic.”

“Sometimes a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do,”
she said, leaning into toe-touches.

“Hey.” Norris took her hand and brought her beside
him on the couch. “I don’t want to keep you from your
workout, but I’m not leaving here until you talk to me. I
know you don’t want me to care, but I do. The sooner
you tell me, the sooner you hop on your treadmill.”

“Fine, fine.” Dahlia expelled a breath. “This morning
I went to church and my parents told me my sister is pregnant.”

“Sister? You’ve talked about your brother, your
Grandma Flora, and your folks, but you’ve never men
tioned a sister.”

“We aren’t close.”

“That’s fine, but to never mention her?”

Dahlia sighed, loudly.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised to learn—”

“That I have a sister? That’s just it, Norris. We don’t
really know anything about each other.”

“We know quite a lot about each other, and I don’t only mean what we like in bed.”

“Norris, you were hit with some unexpected news.
You have a daughter, and all of a sudden you want to be
daddy and confess love. This is a phase.”

N
orris shook his head. “No, no, no. I’m not going
there with you. I know what I’m feeling, so I’m not going
to argue with you about that. Besides, we were talking about you and your sister. Why is her being pregnant
upsetting to you?”

“She’s having problems. Hearing about it made me feel bad.”

Norris waited. There had to be more to it. “And?”


And?
That’s it. I felt bad.”

“Bad enough to come home, cry, and eat a six-ounce
bag of chips, but not bad enough to get on the phone and
call her to make things better?”

“What makes you think I didn’t call her?”

“Because had you called her, the fact she’s having a
problem pregnancy wouldn’t be what’s bothering you, it
would be that you had a fight.”

She frowned. “You think you know it all, don’t you?”

“Not yet,” he answered with a smile. “But I am a
quick study of all things Dahlia Sinclair, and I won’t be
satisfied until I have my Ph.D. Why don’t you and your
sister get along?”

Dahlia shook her head and walked to the door. “Sorry,
that’s a class for another day. You wanted to know why I
was upset, and I told you. Now, you have to stick with
your end of the deal.” She pulled open the door. “I’m fine.”

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