Say You'll Never Love Me (22 page)

Raynie took a beat to let his words soak in. “If Evan had a history of cheating, no judge would have given more weight to Celeste’s infidelity than Evans, or did he know about you?”

“No, he didn’t. She called the night before the accident and said she planned to end therapy and go forward with the divorce. She agreed to give Evan the house, car, savings—all that he wanted except Silbie.”

Funny how Raynie thought Evan had been the love of her sister’s life, but to start over as a single mother, with nothing, disproved that idea. She wondered how long Celeste had been unhappy. Or if Clint was her first affair. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Her head hurt from all the speculation. She looked up at him. “So, she just gave up?”

“Not exactly. She needed it over quickly before Evan found out she was pregnant—with my baby.”

If you can’t get them off your mind, then

maybe they’re supposed to be there.

~~Picture Quotes

NEWS OF CELESTE’S
pregnancy scrambled Raynie’s brain. How could her sister have been so careless? Before Clint left, she’d asked more questions. How far along? How did they meet in secret? Had Silbie seen them together? That concerned her most. Even six-year-olds picked up on things.

Did her sister consider how having a baby with another man would affect Silbie? If Evan and his parents had their way, they’d make sure she resented the child and her mother, too.

Thank God, Silbie knew nothing about Clint. He and Celeste had the perfect arrangement. He pretended to be a client. Even paid for sessions to keep Evan from getting suspicious, and they always met at Clint’s house.

Raynie thought about it so much, she couldn’t remember what she’d done most of the day, but somehow cooked and cleaned before her guests arrived.

By the time Dak, Quinn and Molly showed up, anxiety clung to Raynie like a heavy winter coat. As stupid as it was, Raynie felt responsible for her sister’s unhappiness. If she’d only stayed in touch. Called more. She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could have saved the marriage, but she could have been a sounding board.

Just after six o’clock, her friends arrived and Raynie had supper waiting. Silbie loved Molly and spent the whole evening keeping the toddler busy. Maybe she’d been wrong about Silbie’s acceptance of a younger sibling even if they didn’t share the same dad. She couldn’t help but be thankful the child wouldn’t be tested.

After Dak and the kids went to bed, Raynie and Quinn stayed up talking, mainly about Celeste and the mess she’d gotten herself into. Even though it didn’t matter anymore, Raynie was still trying to understand how her sensible sister took so many risks. Not with her own future, but with Silbie’s.

Quinn yawned, then stretched. “I’ve got to call it a night—or I should say morning. After I’ve had some sleep, I want to hear about this preacher.”

Raynie had avoided the subject all evening, because the less she thought about Jared, the better. “I’m not seeing him anymore. Declared myself cured. Discovered cooking and baking are as therapeutic as talking.”

Quinn laughed. “The meal you prepared tonight shocked me. Parenthood has changed you.” She rose and stared down at her friend. “Well, after the way you’ve gushed over the phone about Jared, I’m not sure you’re cured.”

“I never gushed.”

“Oh yes, you did.” She leaned over and kissed the top of Raynie’s head. “Speaking of babies. Dak wants another one.”

No surprise there. He was forty and if he wanted to get the kids out of the house before he retired, timing was important. “What do you want?”

“Molly is a year old now and my clock is still ticking, so if we want more, we should get busy.”

Raynie held up her hand and pressed her thumb and index finger almost together. “The two of you give me a teeny-tiny-itty-bitty ray of hope for lasting love even if the odds are about a trillion to one.”

Quinn slid the band from her hair and fluffed out the strands. The dark curls made her chocolate eyes intensify. “I’m the poster child for it happening when you least expect it. After lying about who I was, and keeping the pregnancy from him, it’s a miracle it worked out. I love him so much sometimes I ache all over.”

“Yeah, well, I like the new look he has going.”

“Me, too. He’s given up haircuts and shaving until his vacation ends. Who knew scruffy men turned me on? Nighty-night.”

As Raynie drifted off, Silbie climbed in and snuggled next to her. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Is it almost time for the dance?”

“No. It’s barely Saturday. Go back to sleep.” One kitten burrowed into Raynie’s hair, while the other snaked beneath the covers and settled on her foot. She smiled. This defined motherhood. Sharing a bed with two pets and a child. If only Jared were here, it’d be perfect.

ON FRIDAY, JARED STARED
at his phone a dozen times thinking he’d call Lauren again. Even went as far as putting half the numbers in, but backed out. His heart wasn’t in it. Why bother? He couldn’t close the deal before and nothing had changed. Lauren wasn’t the one he wanted.

Hard to admit he and Beth were alike. She obsessed over him and he couldn’t stop thinking about Raynie. At least he wasn’t crazy enough to follow her, but he’d never begged a woman to like him and wouldn’t start now. If it was female companionship he needed, there were plenty to choose from. Lord knew he’d gone through enough one night stands when Julie left.

At five-thirty, he strapped his legs into a wheelchair and joined his brother, along with Kyle, Marc, and Sean on the basketball court in a contest Jace called Gimp the Goal. If he played, everyone used a chair. Maggie’s rules. In the beginning, it’d been the hardest physical challenge Jared faced, but after months of practice, he got the hang of it.

Forty minutes into the match, Jared spun around and hooked a shot into the air and missed again. The ball bounced off the backboard, Sean rebounded, and called time out. “Hey, man. You’re off your game.”

Jace chuckled. “He’s got lady troubles.”

Marc wheeled to an ice chest, took out a bottle of water for himself, then pitched one to his partner. “Sean’s giving cooking lessons to a couple of available women. An eager divorcee and a single woman. He can hook you up.”

Jared helped himself to a drink. “I’m not interested.”

“You might be. Describe the single chick, Sean.”

“She’s hot. A little weird, but I bet wild in the sack. She’s got striped hair which is funny because her name is Raynebeaux.”

“Ho-lee shit,” Jace said. “She’s the trouble.”

“Are you serious?”

“Damn straight. Go ahead, big bro. Tell them how she thinks you’re a sanctified saint.”

Jared threw the ball hard at Jace. “You need to keep your trap shut.”

He caught it and set it in his lap.

“Hey, too late for that.” Kyle, Marc and Sean formed a semi-circle around the accused.

“So? What’s the story?”

Jace chuckled. “There can’t be another woman in Lubbock with that name. It has to be her. He was in the church parking lot and she mistook him for a preacher and he didn’t correct her.”

Every man but Jared broke into laughter.

Kyle pulled his brows together. “So you’ve already been hitting that?”

“No. I haven’t. I barely know her. I think she’s seeing someone.”

Sean shook his head. “Don’t think so. But she’s got company coming this weekend. Could be a man.”

Following basketball, Jared stood in the shower under a pulsating spray of hot water. The exercise worked to relieve some of his tension until Sean mentioned Raynie, and Jace spilled his guts. With a threat of bodily harm, he’d sworn the chef to secrecy. No reason to tell the truth now he wasn’t seeing her anymore. The lie was something he’d always regret, but in time, it would become a joke among friends. Already was. At his expense.

After a quick trip to check on his dad, Jared returned home and twisted the lid on his first longneck. He surfed the sports channels then flipped back and forth, but couldn’t get interested. After his sixth beer, he didn’t give a shit about much of anything, so he stumbled down the hallway and fell into bed.

ON SATURDAY MORNING,
Raynie woke early and put a breakfast casserole into the oven. If last night’s menu impressed her guests, they’d go crazy for this meal. A mixture of scrambled eggs, sausage, and mushroom soup topped with cheese, along with homemade biscuits and blackberry jam she’d bought at a local farmer’s market. For an added touch, she’d made honey butter. Silbie loved it on everything.

Quinn strolled into the kitchen. “Where’s that husband of mine?”

“He’s outside finding things to fix. So far, a loose gutter.”

“You know how handy he is, so if something needs repair, ask. After sitting behind a desk all day, he loves doing stuff like that.”

“I can’t think of anything. But I want him to go through the tools in the garage. If he finds something he wants, take it.”

The door opened and Mr. Fix-it stepped inside. “I thought I’d better wait until the kids wake before I start hammering.”

He walked over to Quinn and kissed her. “You came to bed late.”

“We got to talking and time flew.”

Quinn faced her friend again. “Now, before Silbie wakes up, tell me about your minister friend.”

Raynie rolled dough while she talked. “He’s not mine. Not by a long shot. He has a girlfriend. You’ll meet him later. He’s taking Silbie to the school dance.” Raynie punched circles with a biscuit cutter and placed them on a cookie sheet. “I should warn you. When he gets here, don’t look in his eyes. They’re like a river. No. An ocean. No . . . lagoons. Deep blue lagoons. You’ll drown in them.”

She stared into space for a moment then went back to the dough. “And his lips . . . avoid them, too. They’re so kissable. Actually.” She lifted her finger in the air and circled her face, flour flying like a snow flurry. “This whole area is the Bermuda Triangle of lust.” She put the last round on the pan and carried it to the oven. “Oh, and he was a baseball player, so he has a great ass.”

Quinn folded her arms. “I am not having this argument with you again. Football players have the best butts, hands down.”

“No, baseball players.”

Quinn eyed her husband. “Help me out here, baby. Turn around.”

He shot her a glare that said no way. “I can’t believe you’re discussing this guy’s ass, and no I will not show Raynie mine.” Then he flashed a wicked grin at his wife. “But if you’ll follow me to the bedroom, I’ll gladly give you a private viewing . . . of more than my rear.” He wrapped her in his arms and planted a sensuous kiss.

She placed her hand on his chest and pushed. “Behave.”

Raynie set the timer. “Go ahead. You’ve got twenty minutes. Somebody in this house should be getting some.”

Dak took his wife’s hand and pulled her forward. “You heard her. Come on. Time’s a wasting.”