Make Me Lose Control (20 page)

Sliding a little lower, a different daydream entered her head. A table set for dinner. Flowers in the middle, those pretty place mats that were the color of the lake, a selection of yummy food. Not a pea in sight. People gathered around ready to eat. Her dad, Shay, London.

A real family.

Colton landed in the seat next to hers just as the lights went out. She hardly noticed, her focus on the new dream building in her mind.

* * *

W
ATCHING
THE
GAGGLE
of teenagers at the ice-cream parlor, Shay smiled to herself. London had done it. She’d found her way into a social group and she looked as if she were having the time of her life.

When she and Jace had met the girl in the lobby after the movies, she’d begged for the chance to join her new friends for a treat across the street. Jace had said yes, and they’d gone straight there, to find the other kids sitting in a booth, each wearing expectant, hopeful expressions. “Oh,” London had said, a shadow of guilt crossing her face, “I kind of promised you’d spring for sundaes.”

That’s what Jace was in line to order and pay for now.

Since his back was turned to her, she allowed her gaze to linger on him. He was dressed in mountain-casual: a beat-up pair of chinos, a short-sleeved, rumpled sport shirt, tails out, and some boat shoes that might have been rescued from the bottom of the lake. The labels were luxury, she guessed, but he wore them with a casual air that she recognized from the other wealthy visitors to the Blue Arrow resort area.

She glanced down at her leather sandals and remembered she’d purloined them from Poppy’s closet. Knowing her thrifty sister, they were likely from a local resale shop.

When Jace moved, her gaze went with him. He strolled to the teen booth, where he propped a number on the table as well as a thick stack of paper napkins. It was such a dad thing to do that hope surged.

Perhaps it made her as optimistic as the irrepressible Poppy, but Shay hadn’t given up on the idea that Jace would change his mind. Instead of sending London off to boarding school and heading back to Qatar, he’d adapt his lifestyle, stay in the States and be an on-site father to his daughter. No more solitary ways.

She caught the pointed once-over he now gave the lone boy in the group, Colton, who was squeezed between London and another girl. Shay pressed her lips together to hold back her grin. Despite what Jace thought, it appeared to her he had the paternal instincts for the job.

With a nod to the teens, he turned and made his way to the small table Shay had commandeered. When their eyes met, her heart did a little bump-and-grind and she redirected her focus to the marble-topped table, determined to disguise her reaction. It wouldn’t do for him to guess she’d fallen in love with him.

The man who was intent on “blowing past” her.

In moments since that night he’d talked of building a fairy house for her, she’d tried dredging up some righteous anger about that. How could he do this to her—find his way into the heart she’d kept inviolate forever—and then calmly take his leave?

But she’d known it was his intention from the very beginning. She’d never expected him to be long-term in her life, from the night she’d turned to him in the Deerpoint Inn bar and blurted out it was her birthday.

Now Jace pulled out the chair across from her, its metal legs screeching against linoleum. “Why the sad face?” he asked, dropping into the seat and setting another plastic number on the tabletop.

“That sound,” she lied. “Like fingernails on a chalkboard.”

His eyebrows rose and he studied her face as if trying to detect the truth.

She dipped her chin and fussed with her hair to distract him, apprehension prickling along her spine. If he was intent on reading her mind, it might be better that she resign and leave the house immediately, she thought, in a little rush of panic. When he left, she’d only have her pride, and she was hanging on to that, by God.

Laughter from the teen booth erupted, and she looked over, relaxing as she saw London grinning along with the rest of them. The girl had never looked so happy. The days of raccoon liner and asking to be called Elko or Des Moines seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d stay, Shay decided, she’d stay as long as possible with the teen to ensure those old insecurities wouldn’t return.

She glanced over at Jace, noting he was watching the teens, too, wearing his own half smile.

Her gaze shifted away from him again, lest she be caught mooning over something she couldn’t have.

Maybe her feelings for him would evaporate, she thought, desperate to find something to hang on to besides the anticipation of heartbreak and loss. Surely that was true. He was her first love and everybody knew first love never lasted.

But then her mind leaped to her sister Mac and You Know Who and she wanted to stab herself.

“So...”

Jace’s voice pulled her back to the present.

“Now that we’re pals and everything,” he continued. “France?”

“What about it?” she asked, stalling.

He linked his fingers on the table. “Where’d the idea come from?”

“My friend, and former college roommate, Dee, she’s half-French and her uncle runs the school.” Shay had once been thrilled with the mere idea of visiting her there, saving for a time when she’d use it as a home base and travel throughout Europe for a number of months. But her bank account didn’t expand all that quickly and when Dee floated the notion of an actual teaching position with an actual, regular and fairly generous salary, she’d begun thinking beyond a vacation.

“What’s the other Walkers’ opinion on you leaving the mountains?”

She shrugged. “They like Dee. When we were in school, she used to come up here in the summers.”

His golden eyes narrowed. “Brett, Mac and Poppy don’t know, do they?”

“They will.” She waved a hand. “And they want me to be happy.”

He sat back in his chair, stretching out his long legs. “Is leaving your family, leaving this place you love, going to make you happy?”

“Poppy’s happy. She’s been splitting her time between LA and Blue Arrow.”

“France is a hell of a lot farther than Los Angeles. You’re not going to be bopping over for a quick chat with your sisters or to see Mason whenever you get an urge.”

Mason. That was a low blow. She adored her nephew. “It doesn’t have to be forever,” she said. “A year. Maybe three.” Mason would be well into elementary school then.

“The money’s good,” she added, when Jace just looked at her.

“Which you’re going to invest in the cabins.”

She lifted her chin. “That’s right.”

“I’ll be interested to hear what your sisters and brother have to say about that. Whether they think your sacrifice is worth it.”

“Sacrifice! It’s
France
. Cheese, chocolate, coffee, baguettes. Wine.”

His expression remained skeptical. “Who are you trying to convince—me or yourself?”

Lucky Shay was able to avoid the annoyance of answering when a server came up to their table with two sundaes. Hot fudge for Shay, a banana split for Jace.

She was happy to dig in and drop the conversation altogether.

It took several bites of ice cream, fudge, whipped cream and nuts to begin to eradicate the bad taste the discussion had left in her mouth. It was the cherry that finally did the trick and for good measure, she stole Jace’s from the top of his dessert when he happened to glance over at the feasting kids.

He looked back at his banana split, then at her just as she popped the little red orb into her mouth. “You! You stole my cherry.”

“I’m sure that was gone long ago,” she said, chewing with relish.

“You are a bad girl,” he said, frowning at her.

“Never.” She laughed. “Not until the night I met you.”

“I know it,” he said, looking arrogant and smug and so very male. “But you’re going to have to pay for swiping the cherry, darlin’.”

Before she could do any more than smile at his mock-threatening tone, he’d swiped up a fingerful of whipped cream he then deposited on her nose.

“Jace!” She grabbed her napkin, going cross-eyed as she tried cleaning off the mess.

Then they both laughed and were still doing so when they noticed London standing nearby, staring at them, a bemused expression on her face.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, her gaze darting between them.

“Your father is very rude,” Shay said primly, only to be rewarded by another dab of whipped cream, this time on her chin. “Jace!”

“Shay!” he mimicked, grinning at her. But he leaned close with a fresh napkin to clean her face himself. “And you missed a bit here,” he said, running his warm thumb over her nose.

He was so near, she was breathing in that salty, soap-clean scent of him. Her heart started to hammer and she felt a flush spread up her neck. She pushed his hand away, afraid she’d do something inappropriate like crawl into his lap if he didn’t stop touching her. “You should see what your daughter wants,” she said, looking over at the girl.

London was still watching them. “Not so weird,” she murmured. Then glanced over her shoulder at her pals and back to Jace. “Could we order a couple of drinks?”

He pulled out some money and handed it over. She danced away.

“I feel like I’m a wallet,” he groused, though she could see he was smiling again as he watched London chatter with the other kids.

“You’re a father,” Shay said. “Same thing.”

He continued to observe the teenagers and his eyes narrowed when Colton playfully blew the paper wrapper from his straw into the girl’s face. “I’m trying to keep an open mind about that kid,” he muttered.

She hid her smile. “So what about you?” she asked. “Were you so dangerous at sixteen, seventeen?”

He took his eyes from the booth and gave a sheepish shake of his head. “Probably not. At that time I had chores at home and a part-time job, so I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to get into too much trouble with girls.”

“Ah.” That only came later, she supposed.

“But I had thoughts,” Jace said darkly.

Shay leaned close, whispered, “So you know...girls do, too.”

“Don’t tell me that!” He sent an alarmed look over his shoulder. “Do
not
tell me things like that.”

She grinned. “I know this crash course in parenthood is difficult—”

“Look, I’m going to do what’s best,” he said, his expression turning serious. “I promised London that. I promised myself that.”

“You’ll do what you
think
is best,” she countered, but then went back to her sundae. They’d been having a nice afternoon and she didn’t want to muck it up by overselling her point.

They traveled back to the house, everyone in good spirits. London spent the boat ride texting, surely communicating with her new friends she’d only left minutes before. Jace cast his daughter a quick glance, and Shay thought he might say something disapproving about that, but she could see him think better of it.

He’s learning
, she thought.
You’ve got to know which battles to pick and when.

She caught his eye, mouthed “Good job,” and they shared a moment of silent communication.

I’m not a complete idiot
, he told her.

She held up both hands in surrender.
You’re right.

Once back at the house, she found she was chilled and went upstairs for a sweater before returning to the kitchen to do some dinner prep. She could hear Jace and London murmuring as she approached the entry, and she slowed her steps to give them a longer chance to converse in private.

They’re bonding, she thought, not feeling the least bit of shame as she shuffled forward to eavesdrop.

London was speaking. “...I saw the way you two are together.”

Jace’s reply was unintelligible.

“I don’t not like it, you know,” London said. “Shay’s cool. Like, really cool.”

Shay smiled. That was heavy praise from the fifteen-year-old and it made her stupidly happy. Who said eavesdroppers never heard good about themselves?

“I’m glad she was here for you,” Jace said, his voice a quiet rumble. “For us.”

Hah!
Us.
That did sound like bonding!

“So I was thinking...” London sounded more hesitant than usual. “Remember when you told me you didn’t have a girlfriend?”

Shay held her breath.

“I remember.”

“Maybe Shay should be your girlfriend,” London said quickly. “My friends, they kinda wondered about it and I thought at first it was weird, but now...now I don’t think it’s weird at all.”

Jace was silent. Shay couldn’t imagine what his expression might be.

“I don’t need a mom or anything like that,” London continued. “But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t be...I don’t know...like a family. The three of us.”

The three of us. Like a family.

There was another long beat of silence, then Jace’s voice rang out, adamant. “That’s not going to happen, kid. Okay? Never going to happen.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

R
IDICULOUS
HOW
J
ACE
’
S
statement had hurt so much. Shay tried to talk herself out of the pain, knowing he only spoke the truth she’d already accepted, but it remained there, a tight and thorny constriction around her heart. That her love for him was going to somehow evaporate seemed even sillier a hope now.

So she soundlessly let herself out of the house. Getting away for a little while would do her some good, she hoped. An opportunity to regroup and then return in a happier frame of mind.

Gas prices were too high and conserving money too important for aimless driving. She considered escaping to Poppy’s, but she couldn’t face her sister’s sunny and romantic disposition right now. Mac would take one look at her and spot trouble Shay didn’t want to explain.

So she put the price of a gallon out of her head and drove slowly along the narrow mountain roads, idly checking out the magnificent lake-view homes, while resigning herself to being miserable without company. Then she spotted a familiar truck through a pair of open wrought-iron gates.

She tapped the brakes, then steered to the side of the road, tucking her small car on the shoulder between an oak and an aspen. Down the long flagstone-covered drive, she saw a man squatting by a lush flower bed. Letting herself out of the car, she decided that a chat with Brett just might settle her down.

As a man, she doubted he’d detect a disturbance in her force, but he would make a fine distraction. They could talk about baseball or something.

She called out to him when she was still some distance away. “Hey, how about those Dodgers?”

He looked up, then rose to put his fists on his lean hips. He wore ancient jeans, work boots and a T-shirt, and leather gloves covered his hands. “Since when do you give a shit about anything professional sports-related?”

“Maybe I’m expanding my horizons,” she said, noting how light his hair had gotten thanks to its constant exposure to the sun. Women paid a mint for those kind of highlights. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing, would it?”

He narrowed his gray eyes. They looked a little eerie, their color almost crystalline against his tanned face. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He wasn’t supposed to notice! “Not one teeny tiny itty-bitty thing.” That was probably overkill.

His eyebrows rose. “God, you’re a terrible liar.”

“Am not,” she protested, then hesitated. “I am?”

Smirking, he shook his head. “Just like I said.”

Shay frowned. Not that she had any career ambitions to become a con artist or anything, but it seemed like an ability to spout some believable prevarications would be a useful skill. “I don’t know why I’m just learning this,” she said, glaring at her brother. “It seems like something you might have shared earlier in our lives.”

He snorted. “What were you going to do, practice?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe...yeah?”

Brett shook his head again. “Lord save me from women.” He bent over to pluck a weed from the loamy earth. “Something’s wrong. Is your nightmare bugging you again?”

He was the only one she’d ever told about it. Since the fire that had wiped out the ski resort, she’d relived that day in her dreams. Smelled the fire, heard the roar of the flames, saw Dell Walker, covered in ash, his voice hoarse as he shouted.

And in the nightmare she was frozen as she had been that day, feet rooted as a licking, crackling, destructive monster raced toward her.

Brett straightened again. “Shay?”

She opened her mouth, but was saved from having to answer when a car turned into the drive. It was a low-slung luxury convertible—Shay knew zip about makes and models—and it was driven by a young woman with a wealth of dark hair that tumbled in waves past her shoulders.

When she braked near where Brett and Shay were standing and pushed her oversize sunglasses on top of her head, Shay discovered she was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Golden, sun-kissed skin, dark-lashed brown eyes, a small straight nose and a pretty mouth that was curving in a smile. “Hi, Brett,” she said warmly, her gaze shifting between Shay’s brother and Shay.

He muttered something that might have been “hello.”

Surprised, Shay looked at him. While he wasn’t the most gregarious guy in the world, and had been on a brood since getting out of the army a few years back, his attitude right now was borderline rude.

The woman in the car spoke to Shay. “I’m Angelica. Angelica Rodriguez.” Her gaze slid back to Brett. “Is this your girlfriend?”

Brett grunted. It could have meant anything.

Shay stared at him. “I’m his sister,” she said. “I’m Shay Walker.”

Angelica’s smile, already radiant, brightened like a sunbeam. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” It was impossible not to respond to the woman’s open expression and innate friendliness.

The woman turned her attention to Shay’s brother again. “Brett, I have your check at the house. When you’re done, just knock on the kitchen door and I’ll give it to you. I have some cold lemonade, as well. Freshly made.”

“It’d be better if you mail the payment.”

“But—”

“You’ve got an envelope, don’t you? A stamp?”

Angelica didn’t lose the pretty smile, but she pulled the sunglasses over her eyes. “Sure. Okay. ’Bye.” The dark lenses shifted to Shay. “Again, nice to meet you.”

“Yes,” Shay said. “I...” But she was talking to air because the other woman was already accelerating away. She rounded on her brother. “What was that about? Are you getting off on kicking kittens these days?”

Brett strode toward the back of his truck and began unloading the power mower. “Don’t worry about that useless piece of fluff.”

Shay’s eyes bugged out. He never talked about women like that. “How horrid. You have three sisters. What if some guy said—”

“Just leave it alone, Shay.”

She glanced down the driveway in time to see Angelica climb out of her car. That bounty of dark hair waved halfway down her back. “She’s very beautiful.”

“Her mother’s a former supermodel—Brielle? Her father’s got more money than God. Angelica used to model herself when she was a child, but then got too fat or wasn’t tall enough. Something like that.”

Shay’s head was about to explode. “Too fat? That’s—”

“She told me so herself.”

“Huh.” As Brett wheeled the mower toward the swathe of grass in the front of the house, Shay couldn’t help but speculate. Angelica had shared with him about her life. Angelica was making him homemade lemonade. Brett was unusually hostile to the lovely woman.

Brett, like all men, she concluded, could be a raging idiot. “You—”

“If this is about Angelica, there’s nothing more to say.” Sighing, he glanced over at her. “Can you let it go?”

“Maybe,” she said, giving in.

Her brother retreated to his truck for a gas can. “You didn’t answer me about the nightmare.” Over his shoulder, he sent her a look of concern. “Are you doing okay?”

Her irritation with him disappeared. She didn’t know what was going on between him and this Angelica, and he was closemouthed enough that she’d likely never learn, but he was a good man at the core. A caring big brother.

Yes, she’d miss sweet Mason and the camaraderie of her sisters when she left the mountains, but being away from Brett would be a hardship, too. He might be too macho for his own good and hardheaded as well, but when push came to shove, he’d never let Poppy, Mac or Mason down.

She’d insist they take a family photograph before she left Blue Arrow. She had a zillion snapshots on her phone, but she wanted something more formal—a portrait. It would include Ryan, too, because once he married Poppy, he’d be as much a Walker as Shay was, really.

“Shay?”

Brett’s prompt pulled her from her thoughts. “Sorry. What?”

“Nightmare,” he said in a patient tone.

“Not a problem.” She waved a hand. “And I’m not lying,” she added, when he narrowed his eyes.

“Okay. But just so you know, the whole family was aware it was you who broke Mom’s favorite pitcher, despite your straight-faced denials and your lame attempts to fob it off on the cat.” He grinned.

She decided to ignore his remark. “You should do that more often—smile, I mean. You’re a very handsome man.” Definitely getting a professional photo, she decided. Then she’d impress all her new French students with her beautiful big brother. She’d get two copies—one for her teacher’s desk and one for her room. She’d hang it on the wall, where she could see it every morning when she woke. Thinking of that reminded her of something else she’d like to take with her...those papers she’d considered framing.

“Brett,” she said, “I really want to find my adoption documents.”

“Shay,” he replied, shaking his head.

She frowned at him. “I’ll do the searching. And while I’m at it, I’ll organize everything. Wouldn’t you like that?”

He gave his attention to the gas can and the mower, filling the tank carefully. The acrid smell rose into the air, causing her to blink away a sudden sting.

“Come on, Brett,” she said. “Why the reluctance?”

On a sigh, he set the can down at his feet. Then he strode over to her, placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her face. “Shay...” He glanced to the side as if gathering his thoughts.

Alarm made her stomach clutch. “What is it?” she whispered.

He met her gaze, his expression kind. “There are no papers.”

“What?”

“Mom and Dad...they intended to. You know Dad, he was big on intentions. But the whole deal...going to a lawyer, drawing up the documents, it would cost money.”

“But why did they say...”

“Like I said, intentions. But the fact is, they didn’t think it was really necessary. Because Mom was legally Lorna Walker when you were born, it says ‘Walker’ on your birth certificate. You know that. So there was really no need to do anything further.”

She stared at him. There was every need! Those papers—that she’d believed had been real—in her mind had partway closed the gap that existed between her and the rest of her family. And now she knew they were just a daydream.

A connection that didn’t exist.

She felt...like she didn’t know who she was anymore.

Swallowing hard, she backed out of her brother’s hold. “I have to go.”

“Shay...” He moved toward her but she scooted farther away.

“I’ve got to...got to...”

Get away. Get a hold of herself.

The very intention she’d had when she left Jace and London. Running back to her car, she ignored her brother calling her name. Before he could catch her, she had the car started and in gear, and she accelerated away.

Without thinking, she drove back to the house on the lake. It was where her things were, she told herself, as she braked in the driveway. She’d take a shower, put on some pajamas and hide away for the rest of the night. Jace and London could rustle up their own dinner.

Surely things would look better in the morning.

When she opened the front door, Jace came rushing toward her. “Thank God,” he said. “I’ve been phoning but then I realized your cell is upstairs in your room—I could hear it ringing there.”

“What’s the matter?”

He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it looking as agitated as he seemed to be. “London.”

Shay’s hand went to her throat. “She’s hurt?”

“No. Yes. Fuck. I fucked it all up.”

She grabbed his arm. “What
is
it?”

“I told her the plan,” he said, rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead.

“She didn’t take it well,” Shay said, her heart aching for the girl.

Jace’s expression turned bleak. “She ran off and hasn’t come back.”

* * *

L
ONDON
SAT
ON
the dirty carpet in the boathouse, huddled in the corner with her sweatshirt pulled over her legs. How could the best day she’d ever had become the worst day so quickly?

It had turned dark just as she ran out of the house. There was moonlight tonight and she kicked herself for not taking the boat keys. She could have jumped into the
Fun & Games
and gone...where?

These four walls would have to do. She planned on staying here forever. Jace would be sick with worry—hah!—and when they found her body someday then he’d feel like a total jerk and the whole world would know what a lousy human being he was.

The rest of his life he’d be sorry. Karma would bite him in the butt and he’d lose all his hair and get a potbelly and develop a limp and have to move into a nursing home where the only food they would feed him would be peas! Breakfast, lunch and dinner—peas. And each time they were served to him he would think of her and how he had done her wrong.

There was the scuffle of footsteps outside the little shack. She drew farther into the corner, hoping it was just some random resident taking a walk. If it were teenagers looking for more Seven Minutes in Heaven, she was going to have to find another hideout in which to pass her final days.

“London?” a voice whispered. “Are you in there?”

“Ames,” Colton said. “Just push open the door and see if she’s inside.”

“I don’t want to scare her,” Amy hissed. “Why are you so bossy?”

London didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I’m here,” she said.

The door creaked open and two people were silhouetted in the entry. She waved a hand. “This way.”

“What
is
this place?” Amy asked, venturing inside. “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s not so bad,” London said.

Amy turned to her brother. “You hang out here? How come you never told me? How come
I’ve
never been invited to hang out here?”

“You’re too young,” he said dismissively.

Before Amy could say something that might make London defend her, thus revealing her true age, she waved again to get the pair’s attention. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Shay called,” Colton said. “We said we didn’t know where you were, but after I hung up, I thought I’d give this place a try.”

“You didn’t tell them I might be here, did you?”