Everything But The Truth (17 page)

“Need some help?” her father asked from the hall.

“Please,” she said, already exhausted from wrestling with the bag.

Bob Delaney walked into her bedroom, shaking his head. “You don’t have to take everything you own. Your mother and I can pack some things up and ship them to you in New York.”

“I know that. Thanks for offering, but if we could just get this closed, I’ll have everything I need.” Then she added, “I think.”

He smiled. “Okay. Here goes.” Using his bulk, he forced the lid down, secured it in place with his big hand and gave the zipper a tug.

Peyton smiled when he managed to seal it. “Thanks.”

Placing his hands on her upper arms, he said, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to need some money.”

“I have plenty. Besides, I start my new job Monday.”

“Indulge me,” he said, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out several crisp one hundred dollar bills and pressed them into her palm. “Consider it an early wedding present.”

Standing on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Dad. I love you.”

Smiling, he said, “David’s downstairs waiting for you.” He nodded at the suitcase on the bed. “Go on down, and I’ll get this.”

In the hall, Peyton smoothed her hair from her face, took a deep breath, and started down the stairs. “Hello, David.”

“Hi,” he said, smiling back. “You look great. All set?”

“Yes, just let me grab my coat.”

After kissing both her mother and father good-bye, David took the suitcase from her father and they were off. Outside, he placed her bag next to his in the trunk and helped her into the car.

“Our flight gets into New York around noon,” he said, pulling away from the curb.

Only half listening, Peyton turned to wave to her parents one last time.

****

Once their plane landed, they headed toward the baggage claim. Since leaving Iowa, David had chatted non-stop about how excited he was to be starting a new job in New York City.

Peyton was happy for him, and she knew he would be great counseling the teens at the shelter, which was one of the reasons she’d suggested he look into the job in the first place.

“Do you really think I’m cut out for this?”

“Absolutely,” she said, straightening the lapel of his camelhair coat. “You just have to remember to listen when they speak.”

“What about you? You’ve hardly spoken a word all morning.” He frowned. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“No,” she said. “No second thoughts.”

“Good,” he said, smiling. Glancing at the bags circling around on the baggage carousel, he pointed to a large black one. “That looks like mine.” Moving through the throngs of travelers, he managed to grab it and make his way back to her.

They smiled at each other again, then he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Well,” he said, “this is it. Tell Sinclair I think he’s a lucky man.”

Peyton swallowed back her tears. “Thanks, I will. Good luck, David.”

David had proposed a total of nineteen times in the past eight months. She’d repeatedly told him she didn’t love him anymore, in fact she hadn’t been in love with him for a long time. But he had continued to ask for her hand in marriage until she’d made it clear she was in love with another man. Reeve Sinclair.

Okay, so he was a big oaf. But he was
her
big oaf, and she loved him with all her heart. She only hoped she wasn’t too late.

Waiting until David disappeared through the glass doors, she then turned and started walking toward her gate. She had an hour wait before her flight left for Albany.

Chapter Seventeen

It was early Saturday evening, but the tavern was already packed. Reeve shouldn’t complain; this was his bread and butter. But he was beat tonight, for some reason, and he still had several hours to go until closing time.

“Hit me,” a man said, pushing his beer mug across the bar. The guy was one of their regulars. John something or other. Reeve refilled his mug and set a fresh bowl of peanuts in front of him.

One of the waitresses stepped up to the bar and rattled off a drink order. Reeve set about to fill it. His eyes burned from all the smoke, and his head was pounding. Someone kept playing the same song over and over again on the jukebox. He had a notion to go yank the plug, knowing he wouldn’t.

The customers were having a good time. It was he who was in a bad mood.

Brad reached across him for a wedge of lemon. “Great night, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Shrugging, Brad moved down the bar to deliver his drink.

Reeve hated Saturday nights. Peyton had been shot on a Saturday night. He could sometimes go a whole week without thinking about her, and then, without failure, Saturday would return, and there she’d be—stuck in his head. Her scent, her smile, her laugh. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of her.

Brad came up behind him and interrupted his thoughts. “I think this
lady
is here to see you.”

Reeve’s hand froze in mid-air as he reached for a glass. He remembered the last time Brad had said the same thing—the day Peyton had walked in dressed like a hooker. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of honey blonde, shoulder-length hair.
Peyton
.

“I’ll finish up here,” Brad said, grinning. “Go see what the lady wants.”

Sucking in his breath, Reeve wiped his hands on a rag and moved to the end of the bar.

She wore a navy wool pea coat over a Kelly green turtleneck—which showed off her bright green eyes—and there were flecks of snow in her hair. Her softly painted coral lips were the exact shade of her nails. Shrugging out of her coat, she hung it on the back of the bar chair and climbed onto the seat.

“It’s cold out there.”

Nodding, he met her eyes. “Your hair looks great.” Without thinking about it, his hand moved on its own volition to brush the snow from her bangs.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling.

God, he loved her smile.

“I got a letter from Stacy and Jared the other day. They’re expecting again. Molly will have a brother or sister soon.”

Nodding, he asked, “Is that why you’re here? To tell me that?”

“Not exactly.”

“What
are
you doing here?” he asked.

“Well, I could say I was in the neighborhood, but that would be a big fat lie. And I know how much you hate liars.”

“Yeah, I do.”
Especially women who lie about whether or not they’re involved with another man
.

Releasing a long puff of air, she leaned closer and said, “This is similar to the same greeting I got the last time I walked in here.”

Sighing, he said, “Sorry. Can I get you something? Wine? A soft drink? Hot chocolate?”

Rubbing her hands together, she said, “Hot chocolate sounds great. Do you have any marshmallows?”

“I’ll take a look.” He headed for the kitchen to make her beverage.

What the hell is she doing here? Eight months without a word, and then she just walks into the tavern as if it was yesterday.
Of course, he hadn’t made any attempt to contact her in that time either.

She was probably married by now, although he refused to think about it. After rooting through every cupboard, and searching the pantry twice, he didn’t find any marshmallows. Opening the cooler, he grabbed a can of whipped topping, shook it and covered the top of the mug. Then he headed back to the bar.

Setting the mug in front of her, he said, “I couldn’t find any—”

“Whipped cream is fine,” she said, reaching for the mug and folding her hands around it. He watched as she brought the steaming hot liquid to her mouth and drank. “Mmmmm.” Swallowing, she set the mug in front of her.

“You have a mustache,” he said, staring at her upper lip and wishing he could lick it off for her. He handed her a paper napkin instead.

With her left hand, she dabbed at her mouth and set the napkin on her lap.

“Why aren’t you wearing a wedding ring?”

She glanced at her fingers as if to see for herself, then looked up at him. “Well,” she said, “maybe it’s because I’m not married.”

Reeve narrowed his eyes, refusing to get his hopes up. “Why not?”

“Because the man I love has never asked me to marry him.”

She’d been back in Iowa for eight months now, and the jerk hadn’t gotten around to asking her yet?
“I thought you were engaged?”

She shook her head. “Nope. He never made any kind of commitment to me. In fact, he’s never even told me he loves me.”

“The jerk must be a fool. And a coward,” he added.

She smiled and looked into his eyes. “No, he’s not a coward. He’s the bravest man I’ve ever met. In fact, he risked his own life to protect me.”

Her words struck a vibrant chord inside him. Studying the depths of her green eyes, he asked, “Are we talking about Wilkins?”

“No. I told you my relationship with David was over.” She licked her lips. “Did you really think I could make love with you if I had feelings for someone else?”

Reeve swallowed hard, feeling like the biggest fool. He closed his eyes briefly and shook the cobwebs from his head. What a jerk he was. Glancing sideways, he noticed several patrons watching them, along with Brad.

“Well,” Brad said, “aren’t you going to say something?”

Leveling his eyes on his brother, Reeve said, “Why don’t you mind your own damned business? All of you.”

He heard a few snickers when he turned his attention back to Peyton. “As you can see there’s not a lot of privacy in here,” he said, apologizing.

She shrugged, took another sip from her mug and wiped her mouth again. “That’s okay. The man I’m in love with wouldn’t care. Like I said, he’s not a coward.”

He leaned closer, resting his elbows on the bar and lowered his voice. “You expect me to tell you I love you in front of the whole damned bar?” Her nearness made his senses spin.

She smiled sweetly.

It figures
. She’d like it if he made a fool of himself. Not that he could be any bigger a fool than he already was.

“Fine,” he said, sliding the hot chocolate mug out of the way. He reached for her hands and looked her in the eye. “I love you.” And he didn’t give a damn who heard him say it.

Peyton stood and threw her arms around his neck. Bringing her lips to meet his, she said, “I love you too.”

And then, he kissed her.

He ignored the clapping, cheering and yelling going on around them, and poured himself into the kiss. Breaking away, he said, “Let’s take this outside.”

He came around the bar and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the door.

“Wait,” she said, “I need my coat.”

“Leave it. I’ll keep you warm.”

Outside, Reeve planted both hands on either side of her head, and leaned against the building. Peyton’s back was pressed to the cold brick wall. “You do realize they’re never going to let me live this down, don’t you?” he asked.

She answered him with a long searing kiss.

He ignored the snow raining down on them and the freezing cold winds, and lost himself in her. “Peyton, I’ve been such a fool.”

“I know. I know.” She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle.

Tilting his head back, he stared down into her face. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

She shook her head, her lips shivering against the cold.

“You could have told me you weren’t engaged to Wilkins. That night at the hospital, he said he was your fiancé.”

“So? I’d already told you it was over between us,” she said between chattering teeth. “You should have believed me.”

“You’re right,” he sighed.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you soon? If not, I’m going back inside to warm up while you work up the nerve.”

Reeve threw his head back and laughed. “You’re something else.”

“I know. That’s why you love me.”

“You got that right, babe.” He kissed her nose, her eyelids and her cheeks, then stared into her eyes. “Peyton, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, “but only if Kevin approves.”

“He will.”

“I’m serious. I want to meet him first, get to know him.”

“Okay.”

“And one more thing.”

“Anything. Name it. But hurry; my fingers are getting frostbite.”

“I want babies.”

“I know. Three or four, right?” When she looked surprised he knew that, he said, “I heard you tell Stacy when we were at the cabin. Peyton, we’ll have as many babies as you want.”

She smiled. “I’m starting a new job Monday.”

“In Iowa?”

“No,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Right here in Albany. I’ll be working as a counselor at the local high school. And I rented an apartment about five minutes from here.”

Reeve grinned. “You were awfully sure of yourself, weren’t you?”

“No. I was sure of you.”

Shaking his head, he said, “God, I love you.”

And then he kissed her one last time before going back inside the tavern.

Once inside, he said, “Hey, everyone. This is Peyton Delaney. And she loves me.”