Draw Me Close (11 page)

Looking at her these days drove him insane. She was still so beautiful. Her full wide mouth with bow-shaped lips, the thick lashes that would brush the top of her cheeks when she laughed so hard her eyes shut. He might never see that again but it was ingrained in his memory. He hadn't lied in that hospital room. He was desperate to see her smile at him again.

After a few moments Derek pulled into the parking lot and followed her directions up to the sidewalk. He put the truck in park and reached over to unlock her seat belt. “Hang on, I'll help you out,” he said as he jumped out.

By the time he got there she was easing her way off the seat. “I got it,” she said.

He was really tired of her being so stubborn. “Haven't you realized that I like helping you?” he asked.

She didn't respond, and he assumed the only thing that kept her from making a snotty comeback was how physically exhausted she was. He could see it in the way her head hung to the side.

“Can I walk you up?” he asked.

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head. “No. Please … I'm fine.”

He gave a small nod, not surprised. Derek reached into the truck and handed her the bag of medicine.

She took it and then looked up at him. “Thank you for taking me to the hospital.”

Derek shoved his hands in his pockets. “It shouldn't have been necessary. I'm sorry you got hurt. Truly.”

She shrugged. “I'll be okay. I always am.” And with that she turned and headed toward the building and then up the stairs and out of sight.

Derek cursed under his breath and then got back into the truck. What a horrible day. He was starting to think that she was right, they needed to stay far away from one another. But no, he couldn't stomach that. Now more than ever he was determined to do something right by this woman. There was a lot of baggage between them, but damn it, there was a lot of good, too. Really good. He just needed to remind her how things used to be before everything had gone to hell.

At that time his personal life had been shit. He'd chosen to pursue a degree in architecture just to make his father happy, which had meant giving up his dream of being a comic book artist. It had been his lifelong passion and his father had robbed him of it by constantly reminding Derek how he'd never make it. Looking back, it was probably a childish thing to hope for, chances are it would have led to nothing. But now as a father himself, he couldn't imagine looking into his son's eyes and telling him his dreams were stupid.

Derek's relationship with Lisa, which had started in high school, had also been a constant source of frustration in college. About the time the school year had started, he'd been in denial about them for almost a year, just putting off the inevitable. Actually, he'd kept hoping she'd do it for him, but they'd both stayed together for their own stupid reasons, none of which had anything to do with love.

And then along came Lindsey.

The first time Derek ever laid eyes on Lindsey she'd been a freshman sitting in the front row of Professor Robert's Principles of Modern Architecture class. A lot of students took it as an art elective and at the time Derek was Roberts's undergrad teacher's assistant. He'd been late that day, sneaked in through the office at the front of the class and sat down quietly at the desk reserved for him off to the side.

It had taken him less than a second to notice her. The first thing that had caught his attention was her lips as they chewed on a pencil. She'd watched Roberts intently, soaking up everything he said and taking copious notes.

Derek hadn't taken his eyes off her, knowing that any minute she would notice and he'd have to look away. Finally she did. But it wasn't the instant flicker of someone who accidentally catches your gaze. It was the slow glance and stare of someone that said
I feel you watching me, cut it out.
It had made him smile instantly, and she'd tried as hard as she could not to reciprocate as she turned her focus back to the professor.

She'd failed.

He'd seen her lips quirk and her palm rest on her chin so she could cover the evidence with her fist. That was all it had taken. He'd become obsessed. For two weeks he'd watched her in class and every day she'd shoot out of her chair and through the door as soon as the class ended.

Finally he'd gotten fed up with her avoiding him after class, so one day he'd arrived early and left a piece of paper on her desk. It was a two-paneled cartoon. It featured a male and a female in each panel, and it just so happened the female looked a lot like her, with sexy lips, big eyes, and even bigger hair. In the first panel the male said “Hi, I'm Derek.” In the second panel he'd left the female's speech bubble empty.

Thinking back on it now, he realized it was probably the corniest thing he could have done. He'd been twenty-two years old, for God's sake, not twelve. But he'd watched as she looked at his work, and a huge grin spread across her face. Immediately she'd taken a pencil and filled it in.

Once again after class she'd bolted, but sure enough she'd left the comic strip on her desk and he'd retrieved it immediately. He still remembered what it said.

“Hi, Derek. I'm Lindsey.”

 

Seven

Lindsey woke to a baby crying. She glanced at the clock. It was seven in the morning and way too early to be up. A sharp ache zinged through her wrist, reminding her that she was injured and hadn't taken pain medicine in almost twelve hours.

Immediately her thoughts traveled back to yesterday. Sledding, wiping out, going to the hospital.
Derek.
Lindsey squeezed her eyes shut once more. She could feel her resolve chipping away where that man was concerned because he just wouldn't give up. Apparently that was his superpower: persistence. Always had been.

It was still hard for her to process the reality of what she'd learned. What he'd said. She should have asked more questions, but it was still hard for her to even accept that he'd left her because his previous girlfriend had been pregnant. That he'd
lied.

One thing that kept nagging at her was the what-ifs. If he had told her the truth then, what would she have wanted? Could she have stayed with a man that was having a baby with another woman? Would their passion for one another even lasted? It was possible that eventually one of them would have lost interest in the other. What would it have been like to continue dating a man with a small child? Was it possible that he'd done her a favor? Maybe he had made the right decision.

The part that hurt was that she would never know because he hadn't given her the option to decide or even share her feelings on the matter. Hadn't trusted her enough. Even if he had felt the need to leave her, he should have said why. She'd deserved to know then, not eight years later.

Now that she was fully awake, Lindsey's wrist throbbed all the harder. Her sister and brother-in-law hadn't been home yet when she'd gotten back last night so she'd gone right to bed, exhausted from the hill climbing and pain. For a moment she considered pulling the pillow over her head and sleeping in, but then the crying down the hall reached a crescendo. Trembling wails punctuated by long pauses of silence, meaning that three-month-old Eden Marie Miller was screaming so hard she literally lost her breath.

With a groan Lindsey carefully rolled out of bed, grabbed some sweats off the floor, and tugged them on with one hand. Once she hit the hallway she nearly ran into her sister's husband, Brett.

“Oh, thank goodness, Linds. Would you mind?” He nodded toward his bedroom as he adjusted his tie. Brett was a restaurant manager so he often left early on the weekends. “I'm running late. Eden was up all night.”

Lindsey gave him the most sympathetic smile that she had to offer this early. “No problem. Where's Mel?”

“Shower,” he said over his shoulder, already heading down the stairs. He hadn't even noticed her arm brace. Just as well, since she wasn't in the mood to explain to him. “Thanks, Linds. Later.”

“Later.” Lindsey sighed and went into the master bedroom. Eden was young enough that Melanie still had her sleeping next to the bed in a bassinet.

“Baby girl,” Lindsey cooed. For a moment she considered how she would pick the tiny infant up and then finally decided on leaning over and scooping her up football style. It wasn't graceful but it worked. Although Lindsey was right-handed she was surprised to realize how often she used her left hand for normal tasks.

Eden's little head rooted around, searching for the nearest food source. “Not gonna find anything to eat here, little lady. Mommy will be done soon.”

Lindsey glanced into the bassinet to search for the pacifier. It must be under the blankets. Groaning, she gently laid Eden down on her sister's king-sized bed, retrieved the necessary equipment, and then nuzzled the rubber nipple past Eden's puffy little lips.

“Here you go, sweet pea.” Finally Eden caught hold of it, sucking furiously. It wouldn't be long before she realized the plastic wasn't filling her tummy. Lindsey heard the shower turn off in the bathroom.

“Mel, hurry it up,” Lindsey yelled.

“Almost done,” her sister called from beyond the closed door.

Lindsey sat and bounced on the bed, trying to soothe Eden. She smiled down at her beautiful niece. Becoming an aunt was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Someday Lindsey hoped to have a child of her own. Maybe. But in the meantime, spoiling Eden was the next best thing.

Living with her family was a temporary arrangement, and Lindsey was grateful for their generosity since they weren't charging her rent. If things could just pick up she hoped to earn enough for a down payment on a new place of her own. Maybe a studio in one of downtown Preston's old buildings. She'd be closer to her friends there. Or a two-bedroom apartment so she could have some space to work. Something was bound to come along. Had to, because Lindsey just knew her business was never going to become what she dreamed it could be if she didn't find a way to make it happen. She wanted nothing more than to run a thriving design and restoration company.

She currently still had her online shop where she sold small items like restored light fixtures and accessories, and she consigned her larger items in a booth down in the West Bottoms at an antiques store. But she wanted more. She dreamed of having a studio of her own. Maybe even a small storefront where design clients could meet with her. Another reason why this feature in the Kansas City newspaper was so important for her. She hoped it might help her business to take off.

The bathroom door opened and a cloud of steam followed Melanie out. Her wet hair was wrapped in a towel and her robe was gaping open. “Mommy's here, bean,” Melanie said in her baby voice as she lay down on the bed to feed her child.

It was certainly something special to watch your sister become a mother. Sometimes Lindsey felt a twinge of jealousy, but mostly she felt pride. All of her life Mel had lived what appeared to be a charmed life. She was an exotic beauty with almond skin and dark eyes, and lustrous mahogany hair courtesy of her mother, Geri.

Lindsey's thick dark hair and unibrow had been parting gifts from her own mother. A full-blooded Italian who up and left when Lindsey was three. Wax and tweezers had fixed her eyebrow situation, but she'd never seen her mother again. Instead she was left with a mess of a father whom she'd spent more time mothering than he spent looking after her. A father Lindsey loved more than anything. Thanks to him she'd inherited some of Mel's features, the dark hair and healthy curves, but she'd still sometimes envied her big sister.

As sad as it sounded, Lindsey's childhood hadn't been completely devoid of a woman's influence. Geri had sometimes invited Lindsey back home with Mel for weekend stays. Treated her like a stepdaughter. Lindsey cherished those visits, learning what it truly meant to be a proud Mexican woman. A strong woman in general. She was still trying to put those lessons into practice.

Mel's voice pulled Lindsey's thoughts back into focus.

“I didn't even see you yesterday. I was surprised to find you already in bed when we got home from dinner,” Melanie said. She glanced past Eden's head and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, what happened to your arm?”

Lindsey gave a weak smile. “Just a sprain.”

“Are you sure? With that big old brace? What were you doing?”

“Sledding.”

“
Linds.
Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, it does. I have some pain meds, so it's not too bad.”

“I didn't even know you were going sledding,” Mel said.

“It wasn't planned. I went with Anne and Claire.” Lindsey lifted her wrapped wrist and turned it, wincing in pain.

“Did you go to the hospital?” Mel asked, her voice full of concern.

“I did. They took an X-ray, but it's fine. I just have to keep it in this brace for a while.”

“How will you work on Anne's house like that?” Lindsey stroked Eden's fuzzy head as she nursed.

“Well, it will be tricky, that's certain. I'm sure I can manage,” Lindsey said. But what she was thinking about was how Derek had offered to help her with her projects last night before he'd arrived at their building. She'd said thanks but had been noncommittal. Surely there had to be another option. The thought of working in his presence for hours sounded like the fastest way to make herself crazy.

Mel shook her head. “You should have called me, sis. I can't believe you were at the hospital and I didn't even know.”

“It's not a big deal, and I was just fine. Promise.” Lindsey debated telling her sister about Derek. She knew it would bother Mel, considering eight years ago she'd been ready to key his car, egg his house, and sell his identity to the first e-mailing prince offering a reward. Mel was not going to be happy when she found out Derek was back in the picture, in any capacity. Melanie was strong, had never let a man decide anything for her, and didn't allow anyone to push her around. Lindsey had always admired that about her sister. If somebody hurt Mel—or even tried to—they'd never live it down.