Sunshine In The Morning (Spring-Summer Romance Book 1) (11 page)

Karen released a long breath. “Don’t do that,” she said. “I know it hurts right now, but it’s for the best.” She tucked her thumb in the pocket of her jeans. “If you want to see him Friday, I’ll help you. An hour before you need to go, we’ll leave together in my car. We’ll drive off campus; go to the shopping center maybe. I can call a cab to bring me back. Heck, I can even walk from there. Then you take my car.”

“You won’t need it?”

Karen shook her head. “You need it more. There won’t be anything to follow then, and you can relax and enjoy yourself. But Lydia, make sure you don’t forget what’s at stake. If you and he are meant to be, then it’ll happen and it’ll be right and I’ll be happy for you. But going about it wrong will only destroy everything you’ve both worked for.”

She was right, but the decision hanging over her made the next few days the hardest Lydia had ever had, and Friday night feel like the end. She believed Aarin cared for her, believed all their raw emotions were real, and hoped it’d lead somewhere special. But there was no way to know without first walking away.

Her mind cast back to that first night when they were trapped in his house during the rainstorm. She’d spoken lightly about the sunshine, not realizing how very painful it’d be surviving the storm. “I owe you,” she said.

Karen reversed from where she’d been standing, and Lydia stepped out at her side.

“That’s what friends are for,” Karen replied. “If it’d been me, I know you would have done the same.”

Probably. But then, it wasn’t.

CHAPTER 9

Marianne’s gaze followed her to the door, the heat of it whisking up her spine, and her face calm, her heart hammering, Lydia grasped the knob, determined to leave with some form of dignity.

“Date tonight?”

Lydia glanced over her shoulder, a frown forming. “Do I look like I’m dressed for a date?” She motioned toward her cut-offs and wrinkled t-shirt. Not waiting for an answer, she opened the door.

Marianne’s response floated out the opening. “Have a good time.”

The door slid closed, and Lydia exhaled. The tension between them had grown over the last couple days, half of it probably because she worried about Scott. She hadn’t seen him at all, but had figured she wouldn’t. He wouldn’t want her to know about his plan and would, therefore, stay low-key. Marianne, on the other hand, remained curious, though she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to ask anything directly.

Releasing her thoughts, Lydia made her way down the hall to Karen’s dorm room, relieved to see her.

Karen, a plastic shopping bag over her arm, smiled, tight. “You ready?” she asked.

Lydia nodded, and they descended the stairs together.

“Did … you see anyone?” she asked, after they’d pulled out of the lot.

Karen nodded. “Scott, sitting in his truck, but he didn’t follow since it was me and you.” She nodded toward the shopping bag in the back seat. “Your dress is in there. You can change in the fast food place’s bathroom if you want.”

Leaning her neck back on the seat, Lydia nodded once. She
would
change at Aarin’s, but then, she’d have to explain why she didn’t have the dress on; and she refused to draw him into the drama with Scott and Marianne. For that matter, she’d decided not to tell him anything that was going on. If she left, which more and more seemed like the best idea, she didn’t want him involved.

Thought of leaving saddened her, as it’d done since Karen suggested it, and Lydia mashed one hand to her waist, willing herself to relax.

She wasn’t sure if Aarin would try to stop her, but figured it’d be better to go without his having any knowledge of it. Otherwise, he’d feel like he’d ruined her college years. And her plans
had
changed, but she’d never regret her time with him. Nor would her leaving alter how she felt.

Somehow, she’d tell him that, though more and more it looked like she’d have to put it in writing. That sounded horrible. How could she possibly convey all he meant to her in a few written words? Nevertheless, saying it to his face was out of the question. She just wasn’t strong enough.

Karen pulled up to the local burger place and parked by the door. Inside the restroom, Lydia changed into her dress, a simple buttery yellow tank top number, and a pair of low heels. Wadding her shorts and sneakers into the shopping bag, she exited, meeting Karen’s gaze, and on impulse, gave her a hug. “Thank you for this.”

Karen compressed her shoulders and reversed. She brushed Lydia’s hair with her palms. “No problem. You’re coming back tonight. Right?”

Lydia nodded. “Not that it’ll be easy, but another overnight will make me doubt everything all over again. I …” She swallowed. “I know you’re right. I also know I can’t tell him. He wouldn’t stop me from going, I don’t think. He’s too good for that. But it’d give him a lot of guilt, and I think he carries enough as it is.”

Yet his guilt hadn’t helped him make any choices where they were concerned, and asking herself
why
she could only conclude that her leaving was the only solution to the problem they’d created.

She and Karen exited the bathroom, continuing down the narrow aisle toward the front.

Karen halted a few feet away. “I think I’ll sit and have a bite to eat, waste some time. Maybe Scott will give up on watching, and I can return to the dorm in peace.”

Offering another hug, she turned aside, and Lydia made her way out.

She dropped her bag of clothes in the floorboard. Ten minutes later, she pulled up to Aarin’s place, the peace she’d tried to find evaporating entirely. Over and over in her head, she kept thinking how this was the last time: the last time they’d talk and laugh, the last time she’d look in his eyes, the last time they’d kiss. But she
had
to do this and him not know. She had to find strength, frankly, she didn’t feel.

Or destroy a man who didn’t deserve it. Her actions, over the next few days, would save his future. Though fate had thrown them together and destiny had worked its magic in their hearts, ultimately, what happened tomorrow lay in her grasp. She wanted Aarin Kai in the worst way, but wanting him and protecting him were distinctly at odds. And letting go the best thing for them both.

Lydia stared at the thought a while longer, then grasped her purse and got out. She rounded the front of Karen’s car, taking even steps up the walk. Her knock brought Aarin to the door. He gazed past her at her borrowed vehicle, then lowered his curious gaze to her face.

“Mine didn’t crank again.” A half-truth. Technically, it
didn’t
crank. “This one’s Karen’s.”

His gaze cleared, and his smile arose. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, far more composed than he’d been the last time they’d met. “You look beautiful, as always.”

“Where are we going anyway?” she asked.

Patting his pocket for his keys, he stepped out, locking the front door. “That is a secret. I hope you like it.” One hand in the small of her back, he directed her toward his truck.

“Anywhere you are, I’ll like it,” she replied, her heels clicking on the concrete.

He held the door while she took a seat, but didn’t shut it right away, his gaze full of a million unanswered questions.

He looked in her direction several times as he drove, more unsure of himself every time. Not that there was anything wrong with his plans tonight, but that he’d delayed doing anything about him and her at considerable risk to them both. Truth was, he couldn’t see a solution past quitting his job, and the fact he was even remotely considering it scared him half to death.

He’d said she was worth whatever sacrifice he’d be forced to do, but leaving the college, a position he’d worked hard to get and now enjoyed, was huge. Yet, staying was faster and faster becoming too dangerous. Angela was fishing for Lydia’s name, and it’d occurred to him that maybe Lydia’s friends were doing the same.

“You and Karen are close?” he asked.

Lydia flicked him a glance. To his mind, her expression was mixed, like she had more to say. She responded simply, however.

“Yes. She’s the best friend I have right now.”

He wasn’t sure exactly how to take that and so didn’t respond. Was she fighting other students’ prying eyes? College kids could be horrible sometimes. Just over the edge of adulthood, they toed the line between teenage behavior and maturity.

“I didn’t have any friends in college,” he replied, “but then, I was so young. I spent a lot of time alone, my nose in a book.”

“You lived at home?”

He nodded. “My mom moved us, me, her, and my older sister, where I could go to the college of my choice and have my usual home environment.”

“You said, Florida State? So that’d be Tallahassee.”

Again, he lowered and raised his chin. “She rented an apartment in town, bought me a bus pass.” And he’d gone many miles on the bus, back and forth to college, alone.

Lydia pursed her lips. “Your sister didn’t mind?”

He smiled. “My sister and I were close. She’s married now, lives in Indianapolis. I hear from her on occasion, but her life consists of her husband and her kids. After I graduated, my mom moved to live near her sister in Ohio. She calls, too … usually asking why I haven’t ‘found a nice girl’.”

The comment slipped out, and he wanted to take it back, but couldn’t.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …”

“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “You haven’t told her about me. I get that.”

He didn’t like the sound of her statement at all and for more than the content of it. She sounded … resolved, yet as badly as he wanted to offer reassurance, Aarin found he couldn’t.

Gradually, the miles slipped past, and the subject died. He sought to relieve the awkwardness, putting on confidence he didn’t feel. “Pulled a few strings to get us in here,” he said, as they neared their destination. “I heard it’s the place to go.”

The long entrance driveway led between topiary trees to a Victorian mansion nestled at the edge of a lake. Here, early evening light reflected pink and blue off the waters, puffy clouds sailing by. Rose bushes, along the long front porch, cast frothy pink blossoms over its wooden railing, encircling a sign that read,
Queen’s Bed & Breakfast
, in an elegant script font. Additional lighting in the garden gave it a romantic feel, colored light along the walkway pointing to preplanned locations.

Aarin offered his elbow and escorted Lydia inside. Twisting her gaze this way and that, she took in the front hallway. Elaborately designed wallpaper and rich wood trim gave it a cozy feel.

“It’s like stepping back in time,” she said, brushing her fingertips along the stair rail.

Passing the stairs, however, he approached a long counter directly ahead. An older woman, her gray hair brushed back taut, smiled from behind a computer screen hidden beneath the countertop’s overhang.

“Aarin Kai,” he said. “I have a reservation for two.”

The woman consulted the screen and nodded. “Yes, I see your name here.” She rang a small bell, and another woman, younger, in a black uniform, appeared in a doorway on the left. “Mr. Kai is here for a seat in the rose room,” the receptionist said.

The second woman nodded and motioned them after her down a series of hallways, through a main eating area, filled with square tables draped with white cloths, and into a more intimate location facing the water. Double doors opened onto a landing, allowing in the evening breeze.

“This is lovely,” Lydia said, tucking her skirt beneath her.

Aarin took the seat at her side.

The hostess lowered two menus vertically in front of them. “I’ll give you a minute to look,” she said, disappearing the way she came.

Lydia glanced down at the menu, then up at him. “How’d you hear about this place?”

“You remember Nelson?” he asked.

Lydia nodded.

“His wife suggested it when we were with them at the rink, and I gave her a call. She has a friend who works here that was able to get us in at the last minute.”

“You’ll have to thank her for me. I’ve never been anywhere quite like it.”

He dipped his chin in acknowledgement. When the hostess returned, they placed their orders and settled back, eyes on each other’s faces.

A pair of candles in the center of the table made flickering reflections in her gaze, warming the height of her cheeks and shading her lips pink. Her shoulders, exposed beneath the straps of her dress, sloped gracefully to lithe arms and downward to a tasteful hint of cleavage.

But as delightful as she was to admire, he valued her thoughts and dreams even more. What’d drawn him to her at the start was her gentle soul, and that hadn’t changed, if anything his adoration of her mind had grown. What he’d wanted … what he needed in his life was the tenderness only she could give, and holding onto that justified giving up his job.

He started inwardly. Was his mind made up then? In that instant, he knew that it was, and summarily, the burden of the decision lifted. Nevertheless, he kept that to himself. Lydia would only feel guilty for his having to choose, and he wouldn’t do that to her.

Their food came, and they dined, chatting about books and hockey and even, the history of the house. Afterward, he asked if she’d like to take a walk. Darkness had fallen, but the lighting in the garden provided a gentle atmosphere. Following the curve of the pathway, they strolled between plum trees, dark green with the end of summer, past squares planted with early autumn vegetables and the orange and yellow of late season blossoms.

Nearing the lake, Lydia shivered, and Aarin wrapped her in his arms, folding her against his chest. A tiny bat swooped downward in the night sky. An owl called somewhere distant.