Secrets (12 page)

“Both of you, shut up. Quit calling Sarah names, Vanessa. And my personal life is none of your three’s business.”

“Is that what you call it these days?” Vanessa mumbled, and for once Sarah snickered in agreement. They exchanged an awkward look.

Angie laughed out loud. “And they say teenagers are drama queens.”

Sarah liked hearing Angie laugh, and to see her face come out from behind her mane of pale hair.

“Speaking of drama, we have some talking to do. And that would be your cue to leave, Sarah,” Vanessa said.

“No, can’t she stay? I like her input,” Angie said quickly.

Sarah bit her lip in dismay. Angie didn’t know she was waving a red flag in front of Vanessa’s face about Sarah. Of course, Vanessa wouldn’t like that Angie valued talking with Sarah. Sarah glanced at Scott unsure.

“Yeah, she can stay if that’s what you want, Angie,” Scott answered.

“Whatever.” Vanessa flopped down. Sarah stayed, still ill at ease and unsure why she was there. What was the topic of conversation that Scott had obviously been sure to be there for?

“So did you think about everything we talked about last night?” Scott asked, as he sat back next to Angie, taking her hand in a gentle squeeze. Sarah was again struck by how kind, how sensitive, how caring he was with Angie.

Just not women he had done God knows what with.

“I don’t think I know what to do with a baby. But I just, I don’t know. I mean, what if mom hadn’t kept me?” Angie said, glancing at her mother, the uncertainty clear in her big, blue eyes.

“Yeah, what if,” Vanessa mumbled. “But what do you want to do? Drop out of school and raise it? You’re only a sophomore. God, girl you can’t even keep your room clean.”

“Mom, come on, this is different.”

“Oh, you’re telling me it’s different? Really? Yes, Angie, I know. I did it, remember? Kudos for following in my exact footsteps.”

Sarah bristled. Scott laid a hand on Vanessa’s. “That’s not helping.”

“Well…how do you expect me to help this?”

“Not help, try being less difficult,” Scott said. “Angie, what are you leaning toward doing right now?”

“I don’t know what to do with a baby.”

“Are you thinking adoption?” Scott prodded gently.

“Yes.” Angie glanced at her mother, who was looking toward the table. Sarah wished she could kick Vanessa. Angie was back hiding under her hair, and slumping her shoulders forward. She had tears resting on her lower eye lids. She looked in desperate need of guidance, and of her mother’s approval. But trust Vanessa failing her even that.

“Why don’t you look into adoption, talk to an adoption agency, talk to prospective parents, and get information before you make any kind of decision or commitment?”

“Could I?” Angie asked, her gaze moving up to Sarah’s, her expression hopeful.

Scott nodded. “Sure. That’s a good idea.”

“Okay, that’s what I want to do. Mom, can I?”

Vanessa got up with a pronounced scraping of her chair. “What have I got to do with it? Looks like you all got it covered.” She turned and left the room.

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. How could anyone be so cold to their own flesh and blood? Angie was crying out for guidance, and help, from her mother, and all Vanessa could do was be remote and rude?

Angie looked down at her hands, hair falling back into place over her face. Sarah nearly groaned out loud. Was it any wonder they were sitting there with a pregnant sixteen-year-old? She needed guidance, parenting, attention, and rules. And all Vanessa did was put down her daughter. Sarah’s heart tightened again over the sadness that emanated from Angie. How would Scott excuse Vanessa of this? Because, she had finally learned, Scott would excuse her anything.

“Why don’t you get to bed, Angie? We’ll look into this later, okay?” Scott said gently. Angie nodded and got up, collecting her computer. Sarah wanted to hug her, but stayed seated as the quiet girl shuffled out of the kitchen.

Scott looked at Sarah, his gaze weary. Yeah, she had things to say. Wasn’t it obvious what she’d say about all this? But since she was the guest here tonight, ragging on Vanessa wasn’t really helpful for her situation. So instead she bit her lip to keep herself from talking.

“I wouldn’t mind going to bed too,” she said finally.

He sprawled back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s it? You’ve nothing else to say?”

“What makes you think I’d have anything to say?”

“Because you always have something more to say.”

“No, I don’t. Maybe you’re just not used to intelligent women.”

“Well, that was a burn on Vanessa without directly attacking her.”

“I wasn’t trying to attack her.”

“You were too.”

“Well, you must have some well versed rhetoric on poor, misunderstood Vanessa who tries so hard with her daughter, but just gets it wrong sometimes.”

“You do have a way with you, Sarah.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “So does she, Scott.”

“So we’re letting it go for tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, for the record, I had no defense of Vanessa. She was particularly spiteful because you’re here, and Angie likes you.”

“Well, heavens, that’s a perfect reason to be mean to your pregnant teen now, isn’t it? Excuse her all right.”

Scott frowned at Sarah and shook his head in disgust. “I wasn’t excusing her.”

“But you don’t condemn her either. You just put up with her, which is the same as excusing her.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No. No, I really don’t.”

“Sometimes I’m all Angie has to soften the blows of her mother’s attitude. If I wasn’t here, where would Angie be?”

Sarah went still. She hadn’t considered Scott sacrificed quite so much for Angie.

“I excuse Vanessa, to tolerate living here with her. I live here to be with Angie. So, like I said before, maybe you shouldn’t judge so harshly.”

Sarah felt small and silly for not realizing that on her own. For ragging on Scott when he was trying so hard to be there for Angie. “Okay, maybe we could just call it a night.”

Scott leaned forward and smirked. “Sure, we can go to bed.”

Sarah frowned at his tone. “I’d say ‘sure,’ but I won’t be called baby.”

“I can call you whatever you want.”

Sarah got up and groaned. There was no way to be dignified under his hot, teasing stare and lopsided grin. “Let’s just stick with Sarah.”

“Yes, I know, Sarah, I know who you are,” he said as he crossed the room. He walked through the kitchen, and she assumed that was her cue to follow him.

She grabbed her bag in the living room and went up to the second floor. The hallway was dark until he flipped the light on, two doors were already shut. He led her into the open door.

It was his room. There was no doubting that. It would be considered the master bedroom of the house. His bed was centered on the wall opposite of the door. There was a weight machine in one corner, and an impressive flat screen TV and entertainment center comfortably across from the bed.

“You want me to sleep in here?”

“Why not?”

“But it’s your room. I’ll just take the guest room.”

“We don’t have a guest room, your highness.”

“Oh. I guess I assumed you did, and that’s why you asked me here.”

“I asked you here under the assumption you had nowhere else to go so you wouldn’t be picky.”

“I’m not being picky. I’m being—”

He stepped closer. “What? What are you being?”

“I can’t sleep with you.”

He stared down at her. She stared hard at his green carpet.

“Can’t or won’t?” he asked. Her gaze shot up to his in near agony of embarrassment. He threw his head back with a laugh. “Really, your virtue will remain intact with me. I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“The couch? You can’t sleep on the couch. I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

“How tall are you, Scott?”

“How tall am I? Six-five. Why?”

“Because that’s ridiculously tall and your ass will be the only thing to stay on.”

“Once you get downstairs, in a strange house, all by yourself, you’re not going to be scared? Please, Sarah. The whole point of you coming here tonight was to feel safe, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And give me some credit I was trying to be a gentlemen.”

“Something that isn’t natural for you, is it, baby?” She smiled sweetly as she passed by him, and shut the door on his scowling face.

Sarah went to bed completely ill at ease. She had been tempted to rifle around in Scott’s dresser, his closet, his desk and that urge had appalled her. What would there be hidden that she wanted to know about Scott Delano? She already knew way too much, and some things she really didn’t want to know.

Like that he apparently got around. A lot. And he didn’t call girls he’d done God knows what with. He called them baby, as he lied and got annoyed they were even calling him, as he condescendingly blew them off. He was everything she detested in men. Scott was the epitome of who she, without a doubt, avoided dating, knowing, even chitchatting with. She hated womanizers. Men like that put everything women had fought for back about fifty years. The kind of guy Sarah would never have pegged Scott Delano for at first glance.

Where did his devotion for Angie, Vanessa, and Cookie fit in? Why did she have to physically restrain herself from snooping around?
Just what she needed, to run across his probably extensive porn supply.
No, it was so not something she should do.

Why then did she want to?

She slipped into his bed. It smelled pleasantly of him. Nothing else, thank God. Nothing like hair spray or perfume.

The day ran through her head, the picture, the trailer, the police, Scott, Angie, the baby, Vanessa and Scott. Always back to Scott lately. Who took up more thoughts than the rest of it. Her head kept spinning, and it was impossible to relax.

She’d been lying there for an hour or so when she heard movement downstairs. She slipped out of bed and went into the hall. The other doors were closed. She went downstairs and found an empty couch. Still quiet, about ready to head back upstairs she turned and yelped when Scott came up behind her.

“Need something?”

“How did you get behind me?”

“I was in the utility room, off the other way. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Same, I guess.” He looked her over in the dim light. “I can’t say I ever pictured this moment.”

“What moment?”

“Seeing Sarah Langston in her nightgown, in my house.”

“Quit smirking at me.”

“Why were you sneaking through my house in middle of the night? Looking for me? Miss me?”

“No. I thought maybe I heard Angie down here, maybe she couldn’t sleep after that conversation.”

“Angie? Really?”

“Yes, really. Could you put your ego away for five minutes?”

“So what would you have done for my niece?”

“Checked on her, nothing more. Don’t worry. I won’t air any of my opinions about anything with her. I would never do that. I’m just very concerned for her.”

Scott watched her. Then he nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

“So, why are you up?”

“Turns out I’m not eighteen anymore. It was kind of a depressing discovery.”

“What does that mean?”

“Maybe you were right about the couch being a little small.”

Sarah glanced around, embarrassed to meet his gaze. “Look, we’re both adults, and not looking for any kind of entanglements. I don’t see any reason why we can’t share the same bed.”

“Are you inviting me to bed with you…
baby
?” He flashed an obnoxious grin.

“No, I’m inviting you to lay your sleeping bag out on the other side of the pillows I’ll put down the center of the bed.”

He shook his head. “Will you really do that?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Who could resist that offer? All right, I’ll sleep with you.”

She turned with a frustrated sigh and stomped quietly up the stairs. Fine mock her, she was being nice, because he’d been nice to her. Why couldn’t he be gracious? Or serious?

She kept good on her threat about the pillows. He raised his eyebrows at her. He grabbed his sleeping bag which he threw on the bed. Then he took his shirt off, revealing a long chest, with pale hair, almost smooth, and rippled. He was thin, but strong. She swallowed, and darted her gaze away from him.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was shrill to her own ears.

“Going to bed,” he said, and then glanced at her to find her sitting up, suddenly wide eyed. “Really? You’re having an issue with my shirt being off? You’re not really that prudish, are you? I wear less at the beach.”

“I’m not prudish, quit calling me that, along with prim, proper, snooty and well, I think bitchy’s been implied. I was merely—”

“What? What were you doing? Looking?”

“No. You’re not my type. Just quit undressing.”

“I’m not your type? No kidding. Because I’m not a doctor or because I won’t tell you what you want to hear like every other guy I’m sure you come across does.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. Just God, quit antagonizing me for once, would you?”

He walked over to the bed, jeans still on. “Better turn that virginal gaze of yours away. I’m not sleeping in my jeans.”

“I’m not virginal,” she snapped, as she slid down into bed and turned away from him.

“Well, now, that’s something I like about you. We could work with that.”

She snapped her teeth together and nearly turned her face into her pillow to smother a scream. “Just shut up.”

The bed shifted and sagged as he got in and settled. She tried to ignore him, his presence, and his annoying way of getting to her. He was quiet for a long time, and she was pretty sure he’d gone to sleep until he whispered her name. “Sarah?”

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“For…?”

“Angie.”

“What have I done?”

“Caught everything. We might not even know she was pregnant if it wasn’t for you. And for the doctor, and the advice on adoption. I know I can be difficult. I’m lost with her, and you make it seem so easy. You always know the exact right words to say.”