Seducing the Wolf (39 page)

After several moments, she murmured, “There are a lot of people who don’t approve of interracial relationships.”

She could see her mother’s frown deepening. “What does that have to do with—”

“Remember when you were at that campaign event and some crazy black guy called you a sellout for being married to a white man?”

Elyse gave a snort of disgust. “Of course I remember that rude ignoramus. He caused a scene and had to be escorted off the premises. He seemed to be under the misapprehension that I should apologize for my marriage before I could earn his vote. As if I give a rat’s ass what some bitter black man thinks of my choice in a mate.” She paused a moment. “But what does any of that have to do with you and Manning? I certainly hope you’re not comparing
my
legitimate concerns to those of some hateful miscreant?”

“No, Mom,” Taylor said, turning to face her. “The point I’m trying to make is that you’ve never allowed other people’s opinions to dictate your relationship with Boyd. You’ve never let anyone interfere with what makes you happy.”

Elyse’s eyes flared with outrage. “There’s a big difference between my relationship with Boyd and your past with Manning.
Boyd
has never hurt me.
Boyd
didn’t abandon me when I needed him the most—”

“Manning was sixteen, Mom!
Sixteen!
You were sixteen once. Didn’t you make mistakes? Didn’t you ever do anything that you later regretted?”

The corners of Elyse’s lips tightened. “What Manning did to you wasn’t some careless mistake, some harmless oversight. He deliberately ignored the letters you sent him. Not one or two letters.
All
of them. Are you supposed to look past that because he was only sixteen?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Taylor shoved a shaky hand into her hair and closed her eyes for a moment, struggling to rein in her emotions. “I don’t know why Manning didn’t answer my letters. I know we were both devastated by what happened to Micah. It nearly destroyed us. Every time we looked at each other, we were reminded of the fact that Micah died while
we
were supposed to be watching him. Maybe that was too much for Manning to handle. Maybe cutting me off was the only way he could deal with his pain and guilt.”

Elyse shook her head slowly, giving Taylor an almost pitying look. “You haven’t asked him, have you? You wasted no time sleeping with him, but you didn’t have the courage to ask him why he abandoned you.”

Taylor held her mother’s reproachful gaze another moment, then tossed back the rest of her wine and slammed the empty glass on the mantel with a sharp clink.

A long, heavy silence passed.

Elyse was the first to speak again. “Before he broke your heart, I never had a problem with Manning. I remember how you used to gush about him over the phone. You told me so much about him, I felt like I already knew him by the time we finally met. I remember how impressed I was with him. He had good manners, a great personality, and he was incredibly smart and ambitious. I knew he would grow up to make something of himself. But what mattered the most to me was the way he treated you.” Elyse smiled, her voice softening. “I watched him at your recitals and over family dinners. I saw the way he gazed at you when he thought no one else was looking. It was clear to me that he adored you as much as you adored him.”

Taylor stared at her mother, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “If you knew how much we meant to each other,” she whispered, “why didn’t you know that it would tear us apart to be separated?”

Guilt flickered in Elyse’s eyes before she lowered her gaze. Her hand trembled as she lifted her glass to her mouth and sipped her wine.

“I had already been accepted into Juilliard,” Taylor persisted. “So it’s not like I needed to come back here to attend Duke Ellington. I could have stayed with Dad and finished my senior year at Coronado High. You were teaching at Georgetown and working on the mayor’s reelection campaign, so you certainly didn’t need anything else on your plate. It made more sense for me to stay with Dad. But you insisted that I come live with you.
Why?
”

Elyse drank the rest of her wine, then carefully set her glass down and sat forward on the sofa. Her gaze was intent on Taylor’s face. “As much as I wanted you back with me, it wasn’t my decision to send for you.” She paused. “It was your father’s.”

Taylor stared at her in surprise. “Why?”

Elyse hesitated another moment. “He didn’t want you to live with him anymore. He told me…he told me he wanted you out of his sight.”

A shot of pain under Taylor’s breastbone made her suck in air.

“He was angry and grieving,” her mother continued. “He blamed you and Manning for what happened to Micah. He wanted you gone right away. Right after the funeral. I had to convince him to let you stay another three weeks to finish out the school year.” Elyse’s lips twisted bitterly. “He knew I wouldn’t have the heart to tell you the truth. So he made it seem like it was my idea, and I went along with it.”

Taylor was reeling. “But…you sent for him. You asked him to come live with us, knowing how he felt.”

Her mother looked anguished. “As I explained to you before, I was worried sick about you. You locked yourself away in your room and refused to eat unless you were forced. You slept in Manning’s letterman jacket even when it was ninety-seven degrees outside. You weren’t coping very well, and I was terrified you might do something to yourself. I sent for your father because I was at the end of my rope, and I honestly didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another child.”

The ground beneath Taylor was crumbling. She gripped the edge of the mantel and held on to keep herself upright.

Her mother watched her quietly, her eyes glistening with tears of regret. “I’m so sorry, darling. I kept the truth from you all these years because I didn’t want to hurt you, and I didn’t want you to feel rejected by your own father. Turner had already hurt me in ways you can’t imagine. I didn’t want to inflict that same pain upon you.”

Taylor nodded, unable to swallow past the thickness clogging her tight throat. She felt flushed and lightheaded. She felt ill.

“I think I need to lay down for a while,” she whispered.

Her mother said nothing as she left the room.

27

T
he first Saturday of every month, the male members of the Wolf Pack got together to play basketball and go out to dinner. They were joined by Manning’s uncle Theo and Quentin, who’d always been part of the family. The monthly bonding ritual was considered sacred by everyone, hence it was rarely canceled or postponed.

When Manning arrived at his parents’ house that afternoon, he found his father in the garage tinkering under the hood of the dusty old pickup he used for hauling large loads. Though Stan could easily afford to take the truck to the dealership, he preferred doing the repairs himself. He enjoyed working with his hands and puttering around with his power tools. Some of Manning’s fondest childhood memories were of him and his dad working on the family car together, installing an exhaust system while chatting about everything under the sun.

Manning smiled at the thought as he entered the large garage. An industrial ceiling fan whirred overhead, offering some relief from the stifling summer heat. Like Manning, Stan was dressed in an athletic T-shirt, long basketball shorts and high-top sneakers.

“Hey, pops,” Manning greeted him.

“Hey, son. You’re the first one here. How you doing?”

“Good.”
Hardly
. “Where’s Ma?”

“Went shopping with Quentin’s mom.”

Rounding the front of the truck, Manning rested his elbows on the edge and peered inside the engine. “What’s the problem?”

“Carburetor’s gone bad. Gonna have to rebuild it.” Stan glanced over at Manning, then did a double take. “Uh-oh.”

“What?”

Stan’s eyes glinted. “Looks like someone’s having a little separation anxiety.”

Caught off guard, Manning stared at his father.

Damn. Was he
that
transparent? Could his old man tell that he’d hardly slept over the past three nights? Did he know how miserable and on edge he’d been since Taylor left town? Did he know how many times Manning checked his phone during the day, hoping she’d call or text? Had his father seen him brooding at the windows of his office, too restless and distracted to concentrate on work?

“When does Taylor get back from D.C.?”

“Tomorrow night,” Manning mumbled.

His father eyed him knowingly. “Not a day too soon, huh?”

Manning grunted. “Tell me about it.”

Chuckling, his father closed the hood of the truck and wiped his greasy hands on a rag. “I need to run out to get some parts for the carburetor. Take a ride with me.”

Manning nodded, fishing his car keys out of his pocket. “I can drive.”

“So can I,” Stan retorted.

Manning rolled his eyes. “I don’t mind driving, Dad. It’s no big deal.”

His father snorted, heading toward the black Yukon parked beside the pickup. “When I’m too old and senile to be trusted behind the wheel, you can chauffeur me around all you want. Until then, you ride shotgun.”

Manning chuckled wryly, wagging his head. “And people wonder where I get my stubbornness from.”

His father laughed. “You came by that honest, son.”

“Don’t I know it.”

They set out for the auto supply shop, the soft wail of Montana’s sax drifting from the speakers.

“What’s on your mind, Manny?” his father asked. “You seem troubled, and I know it’s not just because you’re missing Taylor.”

Manning swallowed hard, then blew out a deep breath. “I’m afraid of losing her again, Dad,” he confessed.

Stan nodded understandingly. He knew how devastated Manning had been when Taylor was sent away to live with her mother. He’d never completely recovered from her departure, nor from the way she’d severed him from her life.

“The Taylor who wrote that letter to you isn’t the same Taylor who broke bread with us on Wednesday evening,” Stan said quietly. “That letter was written out of heartache and pain. Her whole world had just been turned upside down.”

“I know,” Manning murmured, staring out the window as Taylor’s recent admission echoed through his mind:
I didn’t know how to cope with my grief, so I shut everyone out.

“But she’s a grown woman now,” his father sagely continued. “She’s had years to come to terms with what happened in the past. I know she’ll always miss her brother and mourn his loss. But she hasn’t let that keep her from moving forward in life. The woman I saw the other night knows who she is, and knows what she wants.”

“And what if she decides that isn’t me?” Manning countered grimly, voicing his worst fears aloud. “What if she gets around her boyfriend again and decides he’s better for her?”

“That could happen,” Stan conceded, giving Manning a sidelong glance. “If it does, how are you going to handle it? Will you respect her decision and let her go once and for all?”

Manning clenched his jaw, meeting his father’s probing gaze. “You already know the answer to that question.”

“Indeed. I do.” Stan chuckled softly, slowing to a red light. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe Taylor will choose her boyfriend over you. After watching the two of you together, it’s plain to see that she still loves you. In order to stay with another man, she’d have to completely deny her feelings for you, and I don’t think she’s willing to do that anymore.”

“God, I hope you’re right,” Manning murmured.

“So do I.” Stan smiled, his fingers drumming a jaunty beat against the steering wheel. “You know your mother’s been on cloud nine since Taylor came back. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she’s already planning your wedding. After all, this is the same woman who claimed Taylor was her future daughter-in-law before you two even started dating.”

Manning grinned. “She did, didn’t she?”

“She sure did. And when I came home yesterday, she was on the phone with Asha Dubois. I overheard her telling Asha something about Taylor having ‘hourglass curves’ that would look perfect in a mermaid gown.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup.” Stan grinned. “If you don’t propose to that gal soon, your mother just might do it for you.”

Father and son laughed.

When Manning’s cell phone buzzed with an incoming text message, he quickly dug it out of his pocket and checked the display screen. Disappointment slashed through him when he saw that the message wasn’t from Taylor.

Worse, it was from Caitlyn.

I know you don’t want anything to do with me, but Ally’s been asking about you. She really likes you and wants to see you again. Can you come over for dinner?

Manning scowled, his gut tightening with anger. Caitlyn must take him for a damn fool. Did she seriously think he couldn’t see through her ploy? Did she think she could lure him into bed by using her child? And how shameless was she to involve her innocent daughter in her schemes?

Noticing his dark expression, Stan asked curiously, “What’s wrong?”