Guardian Angel (9 page)

Pasting a smile on her face, she fixed her gaze on his chin. “Well, I can honestly say I've never had a weekend quite like this,” she said lightly, and tried not to think about their endless lovemaking on Friday night. “I think the committee members will be pleased about the carpet and the vase.” Of course, mentioning the vase made her think of horseback riding, which made her think of Friday night again. Her composure started to slip.

“Talia—”

“Thanks for everything, Trace,” she rushed on. “I would have felt like a fish out of water if you hadn't been there. Although Camilla was very nice.” She twisted her fingers together, still refusing to look at his eyes. But his chin was too damn close to his mouth.

“Talia—”

“Listen, Robby will probably wake up any minute.” She practically jerked her suitcase from him. “He might get scared and—” He put his hands on her shoulders. She might have pulled it off, but she blew it by looking up into his mesmerizing eyes.

“Talia, I can honestly say I've never had a weekend like this either,” he murmured in a velvety tone.

Goose bumps rose on her skin. She clutched the suitcase handle tightly, as if hanging on for dear life.

“I want to see you again soon, but Robby…” His voice trailed off and his face wore regret.

A lump rose in her throat, and she forced another smile. “I understand, Trace.”

His eyes narrowed. “Do you really?”

“Of course.” If she couldn't erase her doubts, the least she could do was conceal them. Trace had enough on his mind. “You'll be terribly busy. Robby needs you right now. He needs you to make his life as stable as possible.”

Trace nodded. “You're right about that. I feel like I've got to make up for this whole last year.”

He seemed so burdened, and a wave of compassion swept over her. “You two will be fine. He's so happy to be with you.”

“Think so?”

“Sure,” she said, and deliberately lightened the discussion. “Especially if you get him that puppy he wants.”

Trace grinned and her heart wrenched. He pulled her closer and kissed her once, twice, then released her and looked down at her with his searing gaze. “I'll be in touch.”

“Of course,” she said huskily, and hoped she sounded much more confident than she felt.

He cupped her chin in one hand, however, and studied her face. “I will call,” he said as if the words should be etched in stone.

Her throat was tight, so she simply nodded and blinked away the shaming moisture in her eyes.

He frowned. “Is something wrong with your eyes?”

“Oh, they feel a little gritty from lack of sleep. That's all.” She turned away and magically produced the key from her pocketbook. Some supernatural force enabled her to insert it into the lock and turn it.

Just before she cleared the threshold, Trace wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the top of her head. “See you later.”

She nodded, holding her breath until his arm was gone. The tears were falling before she'd closed the door behind her.

 

Over the next week, whenever Trace had a free moment—and that was rare—he remembered his last conversation with Talia. Something about it nagged him. She'd said all the right things. She'd kissed him and smiled. She'd even made a little joke about him getting a puppy for Robby.

Trace had gotten the puppy, a two-story colonial house, much of the furniture to go in it, and a swing set for the backyard. He'd also gotten custody of Robby. Madelyn had finally agreed. What he needed now was a nanny. And Talia.

He called her from his office on Monday, but she had just gotten a large to-go order. She said she was sorry, but she was too busy to talk. He called her again that night after he'd put Robby to bed. There was no answer. That bothered him.

On Tuesday he made up his mind to go see her at the shop, but something came up and he got buried in work. He tried calling a couple more times that night before it dawned that she was avoiding him. That really bothered him.

Thursday night after reading a half dozen books to Robby, he sat on his son's bed and critically examined his last meeting with Talia. She'd fidgeted a bit, as if she'd been eager to get into her house. He'd had to interrupt her in order to get her attention, he recalled.

She'd reassured him, but her eyes… When he'd told her he'd be in touch, she hadn't believed him. Why not? For Pete's sake, he hadn't exactly beat around the bush about his feelings. Of course he wanted to see her again.

Idly tracing the pattern of a cartoon character on Robby's bedspread, he frowned. It seemed he wasn't getting answers from anyone. Philip was “out of town,” both Cynthia and his brother's secretary had apologetically told him. He didn't return any of Trace's calls, and Trace found Philip's silence damning. An insistent, ugly suspicion burned in his blood.

His thoughts turned to Talia again, who was never far from his mind. He could almost smell her scent and hear her laughter. Still, the lady had her doubts. His hand stilled abruptly as he recalled how she'd never fully committed herself to their relationship.

She'd said “I don't know,” instead of “yes.” He had assumed they would continue seeing each other after he got Robby settled in. But when he looked back on the last time he saw Talia, his gut clenched as he realized what her uneasiness and disbelief added up to.

She'd been saying goodbye.

He wondered what had been the deciding factor—the business with Philip or her misplaced concern over their different social worlds.

His heart sank, and for a moment the old loneliness seeped in. He'd won his son and lost his lady. Damned if it didn't hurt like hell.

But Trace wasn't the kind of man to accept such a defeat with good grace. The whole thing made him angry. It made him want to kick something or howl in frustration. Restraining himself, he carefully rose from Robby's bed and turned off the light. He closed the door behind him and walked down the hall to his bedroom.

He was angry with Talia for avoiding him. He was angry with Madelyn for taking her sweet time before giving him custody of Robby. He was angry with himself for picking such a bad time to fall for a hardheaded woman. At this point, he was angry that his room was painted blue.

A good old-fashioned display of temper would help. He eliminated his options the same way he'd slashed budgets his first day as CEO. He couldn't yell. He couldn't get drunk. He wouldn't kick the dog. Yet the frustration of wanting Talia and not having her burned a hole in his gut.

After stripping off his clothes, he stomped into the shower and swore for all he was worth. English, French, Italian curses; he wasn't choosy, just colorful. Until the hot water turned cold, he said things that would have singed a sailor's ears.

If nothing else, the swearing cleared his brain.

He made plans as he dried off with a fluffy beige towel. Talia wanted him. He just had to remind her of that. He smiled as he realized the LAM skating party was only two days away.

 

After Talia laced her roller skates, she knelt before Jason and tied his skates a little tighter. The crowd at the roller rink ranged in age from infancy to senior citizens. It appeared to Talia that the children were far less wobbly than the adults. As if to prove her point, a Barringer foreman barely broke his fall by grabbing her shoulder. Pushed off balance, she veered, but clutched the bench where Jason sat.

“Sorry, it's been a while,” the man said sheepishly.

She smiled. “No problem.” After watching the man hobble off, she turned to Jason. “You ready to learn how to skate backward, sport?”

“Yeah, let's go,” Jason said eagerly. Talia noticed he even let her hold his hand. She figured that might last all of ten minutes. They moved out into the crowded rink and took a few practice turns around. Talia couldn't prevent herself from searching for Trace, but there was no sign of him yet. Perhaps that was for the best. She wouldn't be able to hide her excitement at seeing him. She'd missed him with an aching intensity over the past week.

Turning her attention back to Jason, she moved them to the edge of the rink and began to show him how to skate backward. She'd performed a couple of circles when someone plowed into her.

“Talia!” Robby shouted. “Where've you been?”

Talia landed on her bottom. She looked up at Robby and couldn't stop a smile. The child moved at two speeds—the speed of light and dead to the world. “I've been working at my sub shop. Where've you been?” She got to her feet and gingerly rubbed her backside.

“I got a new house, and a Reptile Renegade bedspread, and a swing set, and a puppy,” Robby blurted out.

“Wow, a Reptile Renegade bedspread?” Jason broke in.

“Yeah, it's really neat. Did you ever get your baby?”

“Yeah, it's a girl. But Dad told me Mom couldn't help it.” Jason shrugged philosophically. “We named her Natalie. She's not that bad, and I get to hold her. I let Mom change her diapers, though. They're pretty messy.”

Talia muffled her laugh.

Robby commiserated briefly with Jason, then turned back to Talia. “How come you haven't been to see us?”

That took her by surprise. She'd worked so hard to give Trace and Robby plenty of space. “Um, well, I guess I thought—”

“Talia's a busy lady,” Trace finished for her as he rolled up beside the small group.

Her heart immediately beat faster.

“Hi,” he said.

She felt devoured by his gaze, but knew her eyes were just as hungry for him. “Hi,” she finally murmured.

The skaters continued around the rink and the music played on as they stared at each other, until Robby pulled at Trace's pants leg. “Dad,” he said in exasperation, “how come you're not talking?”

Trace blinked, and a faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I guess I've got something on my mind.”

He gazed meaningfully at Talia's mouth, and she felt herself growing warm. She looked away and twisted an earring. She had a choice of six to fiddle with that night.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, I was just going to ask Jason if he wanted a soda. I'm feeling thirsty.” Her mouth went as dry as the Sahara when Trace took her hand. “Would you and Robby like to join us?”

“I want to skate some more first,” Jason said.

“I do too,” Robby said.

“Okay, we'll be over on that bench if you need us,” Trace said.

“Looks like it's just you and me,” he added as they skated toward the drink stand.

“You and me and about a hundred other people,” she said.

He chuckled. “A man's gotta have a dream.”

When he made that kind of comment, Talia had the sensation of stepping off a high cliff. After Trace paid for their drinks, they carefully rolled to an empty bench.

She watched as Jason attempted to teach Robby how to skate backward. “So how's it going?”

Trace leaned back and stretched his arm across the top of the bench. “I've got a new house.” He began to idly stroke her hair.

“Uh-huh,” she said, loving the feel of his hand in her hair. “And a new puppy, swing set and Reptile Renegade bedspread.” It would have taken most people months to accomplish all that. Being a Barringer certainly had its advantages, she thought.

He gave her hair a little tug. “How did you know about the bedspread?”

She took a sip of her soda and grinned. “Robby told me, right after he knocked me down.”

Trace grimaced. “Oh, sorry.”

She opened her eyes wider. “Whatever for?”

He'd planned to start selling Talia on what a great package deal he and Robby were, but he didn't want her feeling overwhelmed by them. “Robby can be a little overexuberant at times.”

“I think he's great. Look how hard he's trying to keep up with Jason.” Talia watched the younger child take a nasty spill and set down her soda. “Oops, I better go check.”

But Trace handed her his soda instead and stood. “No, you sit tight. I'm the parent.”

She noticed the grim set of his mouth and frowned. What was his problem? she wondered. She had no intention of usurping his authority.

Trace gave Robby a hug and checked his knee. Before his dad had finished, Robby was pulling away, ready for more skating. Shaking his head, Trace returned to her side.

“Pretty resilient, isn't he?” Talia asked.

“Yeah. How are things at the shop?”

“Busy, and that's good.”

He nodded. “I'm sorry I wasn't able to make the last LAM meeting, but—”

“Everyone understands,” she interrupted. She noticed how he clenched and unclenched his fist, and felt concerned. “Is everything really okay with Robby?”

“Robby's fine. I've got custody of him, now.”

“That's good.”

He looked at her pointedly. “He's the least of my problems.”

Puzzled, Talia wrinkled her brow. “Is it something at the office or with your family?”

He glanced away from her. “Neither.”

When he began to tap his paper cup with his forefinger, Talia knew something was very wrong. “Trace, look at you. You're fidgeting, and you never fidget. What is wrong?”

His jaw tightened. “I guess I don't like being dumped after a one-night stand.”

She felt as if he'd punched her. “Dumped!”

His gaze fell over her like a warm, seeking hand. “What would you call it when you make love with a woman until you're crazy with the scent and taste of her and you repeatedly phone her, only to have her avoid you? What would you call it?”

A hard lump of emotion welled in her throat. There was anger in his rusty voice and hurt in his beautiful green eyes. If her goal had been to make the ending smoother between them, she'd failed miserably.

“I was trying to make it easier for you in case you had second thoughts.” Her voice wavered. “I, uh, thought you might need some space.”