There's Only Been You (4 page)

Mike leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and linked his hands together. “Hell, you know better than anybody what an evil bastard my old man was. You were standing right there when he whipped a plumber's wrench at my head. I'd be dead or crippled if I hadn't ducked in time."

Nicky's expression hardened. Mike knew his old friend remembered that day all too well.

"He was a mean SOB, that's for sure. But he was still your father."

Mike laughed bitterly and shook his head in astonishment. “You're a good man, Nicky. It's nice to see life hasn't jaded both of us."

It looked as if Nicky wanted to say something. Instead he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head and turned back toward Garrett's cell. “Take care of yourself, Mike."

"Nicky?"

Nicky stopped, but didn't turn back around. “Yeah?"

Don't ask, just let him go.
“How's Sara?”
Dammit.

Nicky spun around. “Are you nuts? You have the balls to say her name after what you did?"

After what
I
did?
“I'd love to know how I became the bad guy when
I'm
the one who got screwed. Even Garrett made a comment tonight that made no damn sense. She must've told you guys some whopper of a tale."

"And I suppose it was her fault you were sleeping with her best friend? No wonder Garrett tried to take your head off. I only wish he'd succeeded, you asshole."

Mike surged to his feet and crossed the cell. He clutched onto the bars. “What the hell are you talking about? Sara was the one sleeping around, not me. I saw the proof with my own eyes!"

"Saw the what? Man, you're an idiot. Sara was so in love with you there's no way she could've been with anyone else. And I can prove it. Sara—"

"Nicky, shut the fuck up!"

They both whipped around as Garrett's thunderous voice echoed off the walls.

Nicky cast Mike an odd glance before striding over to Garrett's cell. “Man, you look like hell."

Garrett rubbed his eyes hard with his thumb and forefinger. “Dammit, I told Hank not to call. Just wait till I get my hands on him.” He sat up with a drawn-out groan and added, “Please tell me Sara doesn't know."

"'Fraid so. She's the one who answered the phone."

"She knows about him?” Garrett jerked his head in Mike's direction.

"Yep.” Nicky lowered his voice. “I think she planned to come along, too, because she got dressed and made coffee. But something changed her mind."

"Yeah,” Mike said, “she knew she'd finally have to tell you boys the truth about who screwed who.” He dragged his tired ass back to the cot and resumed his position against the wall.

Garrett slowly climbed to his feet. “You say one more derogatory word about my sister and you'll be joining your old man in hell."

Mike leaned his head back against the concrete wall and closed his eyes. “Don't worry, I'm through defending myself. Sara knows what she did, and so do I. Besides, it was another lifetime ago and I really don't give a damn anymore."

As Nicky and Garrett made their way up the driveway, the anger Sara felt earlier dissipated as a great wave of relief washed over her.

She held the front door open for them, and her brow knit with concern when she got a good look at Garrett's face. She shut and locked the door before following them into the kitchen.

"Garrett, you look like you could use a cup of coffee. Nicky, how about you?"

"Hell, no. I'm crawling back in bed and sleeping till noon.” He kissed her on the top of the head, then disappeared down the hall without so much as a backward glance.

Garrett took a seat at the table, crossed his arms on the placemat, and laid his head down. “I'll take a pass on the coffee, too. It's late, and I definitely need a few more hours sleep if I'm going to make it to Shelly's party."

"You're not going to tell me what happened, are you?"

"Not much to tell. I drank a few beers way too fast, and they hit me like a ton of bricks. You know how stupid I can get."

"Garrett, I meant about Mike. How did he happen to show up where you and your buddies were hanging out, and why, in God's name, did you pick a fight with him? I thought the whole idea was to avoid him."

He cracked an eye open. “Ah, hell, I don't know. I saw him sitting there all smug, as if he didn't have a care in the world. Then I remembered the look on your face the day you told me you were pregnant, and I guess I lost it."

She didn't say anything for a moment, just spun the Lazy Susan around a few times as she fought an inner argument with herself. Finally, she decided she had to know. “Did he ask about me?"

Garrett lifted his head and stared at her with mild surprise. Then his gaze turned compassionate. “Honey, I don't want to hurt you."

"So he didn't even ... ask?"

He blew out a deep breath and reached across the table to grasp her fingers. “Let's just say he didn't have anything nice to say and leave it at that."

Sara frowned. Mike had accused her of sleeping around when it was he who'd been unfaithful, left her pregnant and alone, and
he
didn't have anything nice to say? She would've laughed if her heart didn't feel like it was breaking all over again. And she knew she was being ridiculous. Their relationship, if one could call it that, had ended years ago.

When, for the love of God, would she finally be able to exorcise the man from her head? She gave Garrett's hand a squeeze before rising to her feet. “Well, I think I'll crawl back into bed myself. If I'm lucky, Ethan won't wake me up for another four hours. Night, Garrett."

"You're okay, right?” He held onto her fingers a second longer.

She met his gaze with a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, I'll live. And if I never lay eyes on Mike Andrews again, it'll be too soon for me."

"Sara, thank God!” Amanda Burnett, one of her part-time employees, rushed out from behind the bakery counter to meet her. “I tried everything I could think of to fix it, but I was afraid I'd make it worse."

With a reassuring smile, Sara walked past her directly to the ornery coffee machine in question. She silently scolded herself for not replacing the darn thing at the first sign of trouble.

"You did exactly the right thing by calling me.” Sara set her purse beneath the counter and turned to face the girl. “I meant to leave a note for you, but ... I got distracted."

Amanda's relief was evident. “I thought I broke it."

"Nah. It's been acting up for awhile. I'll replace it next week. Why don't you go clean the windows and door outside while I deal with this disagreeable piece of crap."

With a grateful nod, Amanda grabbed the bottle of window cleaner, a roll of paper towels, and headed out the door.

Sara blew out a frustrated breath as she faced the troublesome machine. “Couldn't have waited till Monday, could you? Rotten appliance."

Ten minutes later, she smiled with triumphant satisfaction as the sweet aroma of vanilla coffee filled the bakery. First thing Monday morning she'd call the dealer and ask when they could deliver a new machine.

The bell above the door chimed. “See, Amanda. You just have to show this devil who's boss...” The words died on her lips. Legs braced apart, a disdainful scowl curling his lip, Mike stood inside the door. Her breath caught.
This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening—

"You sound exactly like that arrogant brother of yours."

Deep breath, compose yourself
. “I'll take that as a compliment.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now get the hell out."

"You need to work on your people skills, lady.” He strode forward and stopped in front of the display case, looking around in obvious astonishment. “Well, I'll be dipped. When I saw the Sara's Bakery sign I said to myself, no friggin’ way. But morbid curiosity got the better of me. So a bakery, huh? Not much of a surprise, really—"

"What do you want, Mike?"

He turned toward her and she finally got a good look at the side of his face. My God, had Garrett done that? She couldn't help feeling a measure of satisfaction. Oh, who was she kidding? She hoped it hurt like hell.

He must have realized where her gaze rested because he reached up and fingered his jaw. “Don't get too excited; he sucker-punched me.” He leaned over and tapped the glass above her jumbo chocolate muffins. “I'll take one of those and a large coffee. Regular, not that flavored crap."

With an angry huff, she spun around to pour him a cup. Why did he have to look so damn good? Was it too much to ask for a receding hairline and a donut around the middle?

He wore his thick, blue-black hair shorter than he used to, which only made the resemblance between him and Ethan more pronounced. He'd put on a good twenty-five to thirty pounds of solid muscle, evidenced by the black T-shirt stretched tautly over his chest. And those eyes—cobalt and incredible—had continued to haunt her over the years.

Ethan's were the exact same color.

Closing her own eyes for a brief moment, she prayed for strength, then turned around and set his coffee on the counter. She felt like she should say something about his father. “Sorry to hear about your dad."

"Don't be; I'm not. I hope the bastard suffered."

Her gaze flew to his. “My God, you're cold.” She shook her head, surprised by his callous words despite ... everything.

"My old man deserved a lot worse than what he got, and you know it. Or maybe you think I deserved what I got...?"

She gasped. “I can't believe you'd even say that to me.” No child should have to go through what Mike had. Parents are supposed to love and protect their children, not abuse them. Unfortunately, it seemed Mike had inherited his father's cruel streak after all. A chill ran up her spine at the thought of Mike putting his hands on Ethan in such a way.

Using a sheet of waxed paper, she plucked out a muffin and stuffed it into a bag. “It's on the house.” She dropped the bag next to his coffee. “
Now
, get the hell out."

Mike flipped a folded five-dollar-bill on the counter. “Something tells me you can't afford to give out freebies. Not with the way you treat your customers."

That got her hackles up.
Jackass
. She flicked it off the counter using her thumb and middle finger.

His jaw worked back and forth. He didn't bother to pick up the money.

"Look, I'm on my way out, so if there's a reason for this visit other than to ruin my weekend, get the hell to it."

He stared at her for what seemed like forever. “You sure fed your brothers a line of bullshit, didn't you?"

"What in the world are you talk—” The bell above the door chimed, and Sara cleared her throat as Amanda walked in.

Mike shot an impatient glance over his shoulder.

"You did a beautiful job, Amanda. Thank you."

Amanda walked behind the counter and stuck the bottle of cleaner and paper towels back under the register. When she straightened, she gestured toward the coffee machine. “Fixed it?"

Sara nodded. “But if it gives you any trouble, just turn it off and clean it up."

"I will. So how come Ethan didn't come with you?"

Sara's pulse leapt. The inquisitive teenager couldn't have known the inner turmoil her innocently asked question caused Sara. She flicked her gaze Mike's way before replying, “He was still in bed when I left."

"Ah. Well, I still need to package those pies. Thanks again, Sara.” Amanda gave Mike a curious once-over before disappearing through the swinging door.

"Who's Ethan?” Mike asked as soon as the door swung shut.

Sara met his gaze dead on. “He's the love of my life."

Mike's eyes hardened. “Hope you and this idiot are happy together.” He snatched up his bag and cup and strode out the door.

Sara's knees buckled as soon as he left. She slapped her palms on the counter for support and let out a deep, calming breath. After all these years with no phone call, no letter,
no nothing
, he decides to stroll into her shop and act as if—as if a whole eight years hadn't gone by since he'd slunk out of her life? Since he'd betrayed her with that slut Rachel Montgomery then had the nerve to accuse her of sleeping with Rachel's brother, Jimmy?

"You sure fed your brothers a line of bullshit, didn't you?"
What could he have possibly meant by that? Everything she'd told her brothers was the gospel truth, and he knew it.
Forget it, and forget him.

She let out a disgusted sigh. Easier said than done.

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"You're a doll, Sara. I really appreciate this,” Nancy said as she stretched the neck of a particularly uncooperative balloon. “I thought for sure I'd have the decorations hung before you got here. I swear, next year I'm having Shelly's birthday party catered."

"I offered to make a few dishes for you,” Sara pointed out, resisting the urge to chuckle over a five-year-old having a catered birthday party.

"I know, but you have your hands full as it is.” Nancy pointed to her husband Dwayne who was busy tapping a huge keg. “Besides, we'll have plenty of beer."

Sara laughed softly. As if beer was the answer to everything. Her smile faded when she thought of Garrett and wondered whether or not he planned to drink again today. God, she hoped not.

"Man, I don't even smoke and I can barely blow these suckers up."

Sara stuck one in her mouth and blew it up with no problem at all.

"You're hired!” Dwayne called out, doing his Groucho Marx cigar-tapping imitation.

Nancy rolled her eyes, and they both started laughing.

Once the decorations were hung, they carried out the non-perishable food items while Dwayne filled three large coolers with ice, bottled water, and every flavor of soda imaginable.

Nancy kept Sara busy for hours, and she couldn't have been happier. It left her absolutely no time to think about a certain blue-eyed jackass.

The first of the guests arrived at five-to-eleven. Sara strolled around, chatting with one person after another, checking every fifteen minutes or so on the children to make sure everybody was playing nicely. When she noticed Nancy carrying the food out, she made her way into the house to give her a hand.