When Least Expected (11 page)

Ian got up and winced as she struggled to get off the stool.

She was wearing those pants that weren't pants and weren't shorts. Her knee was swollen, stretching out the fabric.

“Where did you fall?” he asked. They had stairs at the house.

“In the kitchen. I passed out.”

“You passed out? Why didn't anyone call me?” he asked as he walked her out to his car.

“Why would anyone call you?” That was a very good question. He wasn't her husband. He didn't have any right to know what was going on with her.

She stopped at her car and pulled out her key.

“I can drive you,” he offered.

“I need my car.”

“Right. I'll follow you home and make sure you get in okay,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Thanks.” He might have overdone it a little when he reached across and buckled her seat belt. He didn't care. He just wanted to be close to her.

When they got to the house, he quickly ran over to help her out of her car.

Peckerhead pulled in right behind her as Ian had his arm behind her back.

He got out and smiled widely while shaking a bottle of pills.

“I brought you some Vicodin,” the asshole said. “I thought you might be a little stiff.”

“She can't take Vicodin. It makes her sick,” Ian snapped, happy in the fact that he knew way more about her than this guy did.

“Thank you anyway,” she said with a smile in his direction. Ian stepped away so peckerhead could help her inside and take care of her. The happiness he had been feeling from touching her faded away pretty quickly.

Peckerhead was taking all his jobs.

“Take care, Lex. Call me and let me know how you're doing,” Ian said as they reached the door.

“Thanks,” she said as she dug out her keys.

She never called.

 

Lexi's phone rang the next week, and she smiled as she answered.

“Do you like Mexican?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes.”

“What do you want me to bring you?”

“Chicken enchiladas and a tostada.”

“On its way.”

“You know you don't have to bring food just so you can come over,” she told him.

“I know, but considering your stunt last week, I feel I need to make sure you eat. Besides, I haven't had anything that didn't come out of plastic since I saw you last week.”

“Okay. I'll set the table. We'll make it an official meal.”

“Alexis?” His tone was serious.

“Yeah?”

“I'm staying tonight,” he said, his voice sounding confident, though there was still an underlying question.

“Okay,” she answered.

“I mean it. I've made arrangements and everything. No calls, just me and you.”

“Okay,” she repeated confidently. Most of her was confident anyway.

As soon as she was off the phone she sprinted upstairs to shower and shave her legs. She put on a nice sundress and, because she didn't have time to dry her hair and do anything with it, she braided it off to the left side, hoping to distract attention away from her fading bruise.

When the doorbell rang, her heart started hammering.

This was it. She was going to have sex with someone other than Ian.

She was moving on.

Jeremy smiled when she opened the door, and her heart calmed down substantially.

It was going to be fine. It was Jeremy. She wanted to do this. Even if her body didn't seem to be responding the way it should. She would just have to remember how this was done.

She practically jumped in his arms, kissing him as he tried to get in the door with the bags of Mexican takeout.

“Mmm.” He mumbled against her lips. “You must really like Mexican food,” he teased, making her laugh.

Jeremy was funny and sweet and sexy, and he wanted her. Why couldn't she get her instincts to kick in?

When she released him, he did his routine checkup, turning her head this way and that to see if her injuries were healing.

“The cast?” He raised his brow.

“I'm not using my wrist right now.”

He nodded and headed for the kitchen. She followed behind him excitedly. It had nothing to do with the food. Her body, heart, and brain were at war with one another. No one seemed to be on the same side. She wanted him. She wanted to feel good again.

He pulled the first dish out of the bag and opened the container. She smiled and put her face near the food to get a whiff of the delicious aroma and spices, except it wasn't delicious at all.

It was bad.

She gagged. Then, when she realized it was going to be more than just gagging, she ran away.

She barely made it to the powder room before throwing up.

“Alexis? What happened?” Jeremy asked from outside the door.

“Don't you smell that? I think it's rotten.” She rinsed her mouth and threw water on her face before coming out.

“What's rotten?” He looked stumped.

“I'm not sure, but something stinks.” She covered her nose when she went back out in the kitchen.

He looked at the food and then looked back at her as she reached out to steady herself against the doorjamb. She felt dizzy again.

“Why don't you sit down?” he suggested. He guided her into the living room and knelt down by her knees.

“Alexis? When was your last menstrual cycle?” he asked in his official doctor tone.

“What?” She almost choked at the question.

“When did you have your period last? I'm being a doctor right now.”

She shook her head.

“My cycle has been messed up since I had all the fertility treatments. I don't always get it.”

“Is there any way you could be pregnant?” he asked.

She snorted. “No. Trust me. It's not possible.”

“It's just . . . the food isn't bad, and that quick reaction is exactly how my wife was when she was pregnant with our daughter.”

“I told you I can't get pregnant!” She threw him the back-off look.

“Okay.” He held up his hands. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Do you want something else?”

“That thing you had smelled pretty good,” she said.

He put it on a plate and brought it in for her.

“I'm sorry I suggested you were pregnant. I didn't mean to upset you,” he offered as he sat next to her and kissed her head.

“I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm a little sensitive about that subject.”

“Understood. I won't ever bring it up again. I promise.”

He stayed with her that night, but nothing happened between them. He still seemed worried about her being sick and that had kind of put a damper on things. They fell asleep on the sofa again. It felt nice to be in his arms. It wasn't the same as being in Ian's arms. But she felt . . . safe at least.

She didn't know when that feeling went away; probably when Jeremy left in the wee hours of the morning.

She found herself floating in the cold ocean. Pieces of burning wreckage were scattered everywhere as she bobbed in the choppy sea.

Around her were other people, strangers holding on to other pieces of debris.

“Ian?” she called loudly. Her throat was sore, but she continued to yell as she realized some of the debris wasn't from the wreckage. There were bodies floating in the water, too. “Ian!” she yelled more desperately. She needed to find him.

She maneuvered her makeshift raft through the bodies, checking to see if she recognized anyone. She could hear someone calling her name in the distance, but it wasn't anyone she knew. She ignored them and continued looking for Ian.

Finally, she came across a body floating on the surface of the black water. She recognized the shirt as one she'd bought Ian for Christmas the last year they were together.

She abandoned the wood that was keeping her afloat so she could swim to him faster. She needed to save him.

“Ian!” She gasped as she got to him and turned him over. Ian's brown eyes stared up at her blankly. His swollen white skin was covered in gashes. “Ian!” she screamed and sat up on her sofa, coughing and covered in sweat.

She looked around and found her phone on the coffee table.

She didn't think. She just dialed. It was almost four a.m.

T
he phone woke him up. He cursed at it because he'd only crawled into bed two hours earlier. Living alone and working from home meant he could keep whatever crazy schedule he'd created to keep equal amounts of busy and exhausted enough to sleep.

When he saw who was calling, he became more alert.

“Hello? Lex? What's wrong? Are you okay?”

She let out a deep breath, and for a moment he worried she'd dialed him by accident.

“You're okay?” she asked. She sounded so relieved, he wanted to be there so he could wrap his arms around her.

“Yeah. Are you?” he said.

“I'm sorry to call you so early. I just had a terrible dream, and I had to hear your voice so I knew you were okay.” Her voice trembled from fear, and his desire to go to her became unbearable. He wanted to ease her worries, but he lived on the other side of town. By the time he got there, she wouldn't need him anymore.

“I'm fine, Lex. It was just a dream. Are you okay now?”

“Yes. I'm sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

“Don't. It's nice. I like that you're dreaming about me. Though maybe not the nightmares.” He tried to joke, to make her feel better. It worked. She laughed a little. “Tell me about it.”

“I don't want to think about it anymore.”

“All right. Then lie down and tell me about something else until we fall asleep again,” he suggested, not wanting to get off the phone.

“Remember when we went to Cancun?” she asked.

“Yes.” He smiled. “You had that tiny black bikini that drove me crazy.” She laughed. Maybe he hadn't ever told her it drove him crazy. He should have.

“The sand and the water were so warm.”

“Yeah. I remember.” He was smiling at the memory.

“We swam at night with the moon reflecting on the water.” He heard her yawn, and it made him yawn, too. He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. They had done more than swim in the water that night. It had been the trip on which they'd started trying to have a baby. They thought it would be cool to get pregnant at some amazing location and then give their kid some bizarre middle name so they'd always remember it.

It didn't work out like that, but apparently they did still remember the trip.

“We lost the bottoms of that black bikini in the water,” he said sleepily.

No answer.

“Lex?” He listened and could hear her steady breathing on the phone. She'd fallen back to sleep.

He propped the phone between his ear and the pillow and fell asleep listening to her even breaths.

 

“What's wrong with you?” Roslyn asked as Lexi put her hand on the bar to brace herself from another dizzy spell.

“I don't know.”

“Don't you think you might want to get it checked out before you take another tumble and bust up your face again?” she suggested wisely.

“Yes. I was kind of waiting until school was out.”

“Well, guess what? School has been out, and it would be nice if I had someone to go out with who wasn't going to fall off her bar stool.”

“You fall off your bar stool all the time,” Lexi kidded her friend.

“True, but I think you need to go to the doctor. Not that you're not dating a doctor. He hasn't given you a thorough exam yet?”

“No. Not yet.” Lexi frowned at the floor.

“What's the deal?” Roz pushed.

“We don't see each other that much. When he came over last week, I got sick. This week he got called out right when we were about to head upstairs. It just hasn't worked out yet.”

“Well then, make an appointment with Nichole.”

“Okay. I will.” When Roslyn raised her brow, Lexi added, “I promise.”

Lexi called Nichole's office and made an appointment for the next week. She spent the rest of the day speculating about when Jeremy might come over next. She'd thought they would see more of each other once she was done working for the summer, but so far it hadn't worked out that way.

She didn't see him the rest of the week. He had some lectures to attend on top of his already hideous schedule. Twice she met him near the hospital for a quick lunch, but they didn't have a lot of time.

She started to worry about where this was going. Could she really do this? She knew it wouldn't be like this forever, but she kind of needed someone in her life right now.

She decided not to let it get her down and went shopping for a new outfit that would make her feel better.

She wasn't a big shopper and usually employed Kelly or Roslyn to help make it bearable. That day she just wanted to be alone. Since she and Ian had split she hadn't had a lot of extra money to spend frivolously. But she decided a new outfit was what she needed so she splurged before she went to meet Kelly for an early dinner.

“You look great,” Kelly said as she hugged Lexi.

“I do?”

“Well, aside from the yellow eye, yeah. Ian told me you fell?” As expected, she didn't look convinced. Stupid Lifetime Movies.

Lexi hadn't seen Kelly in a while because of Aidan's baseball practice. And because it felt weird being excited about another man who wasn't Kelly's brother. Lexi was hoping this new relationship wouldn't come between them, but already she feared it had.

“Yeah. I fell. It was nothing. I'm fine.”

“Well, you look fine to me. Happy.”

“Thanks. I bought a new outfit today. That must be it.” Lexi nodded but could almost feel the smile fade away as she got ready to ask the question.

“How's Ian?” Why did she always feel the need to ask? Why couldn't she get over him?

Kelly gave her the sympathetic frown/smile she had perfected since Ian and Lexi split.

“I don't really know. I hardly see him. I called a few times, but he comes up with excuses why he can't come for dinner. I'm not sure what's going on with him.”

“Maybe I should check in,” Lexi said, almost giddy with an excuse to talk to him again.

“Maybe you should focus on your hot doctor,” Kelly suggested.

“Right.” Lexi nodded and laughed.

She needed to move on.

 

Ian got a text from Lexi late one night.

W
HICH OF THE WALL ANCHOR THINGIES HOLDS MORE WEIGHT
? T
HE WHITE ONES OR THE BROWN ONES
?

She always got energetic when she first got out of school for the summer. She never wanted to waste the summer.

He texted back immediately. Let it not be said Ian Montgomery didn't learn from his mistakes.

W
HAT DOES THE PACK SAY
? he wrote.

T
HERE ISN'T A PACKAGE.
T
HEY'RE JUST IN THE DRAWER
.

Ian tried to remember what was in the junk drawer in the laundry room.

W
HICH ONE IS BIGGER
? he typed back.

T
HE WHITE ONE IS THICKER BUT SHORTER
. T
HE BROWN ONE IS SKINNIER BUT LONGER
.

I
SN'T THAT ALWAYS THE CASE
? he wrote, making a lewd joke.

LOL. Good, she got the humor.

Y
OU DON'T HAVE A DRILL SO YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO USE EITHER OF THEM.
He remembered he'd taken all the tools when he left.

I
HAVE A HAMMER. CAN'T I JUST POUND IT IN
?

N
O
!

N
EVER MIND. ROSLYN GAVE ME SOME HEAVY-DUTY TACKS.
I
'LL JUST USE THEM.

T
ACKS ARE NEVER GOING TO HOLD THAT PAINTING
.

Nothing.

L
EX
?

Nothing.

“Shit!” he said out loud to his empty apartment. He looked at the clock; it was five after ten. “Damn it, Lex!” he said as he packed up the drill and got in his car to go be her knight in shining armor or her annoying ex with a power tool, whichever.

He rang the doorbell three times in a row, as if he could stop her just before she made a horrible drywall-marring mistake.

She opened the door wearing one of his old shirts and a pair of leggings. Oh, God, leggings. He was instantly hard.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I came to help hang the picture before you bitch up the walls.” He sounded disgruntled, but his smile ruined the effect. The truth was, he didn't want to be anywhere else.

She laughed as she opened the door, letting him in. The sound filled his heart. He'd been working on being alone and he was much better at it, but it still sucked.

“Do you have like flashing lights and a siren?” she said.

“No, but I'll look into getting some.”

“I hope the white one will work because the brown one met an unfortunate end.” She held up a mangled brown anchor.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Turns out you
can't
just pound it in with a hammer.”

Don't say I told you so. Don't say I told you so. Don't say I told you so
, he repeated inside his head.

“Where do you want it?” he asked. He was in his glory because she needed him. So stupid.

“In my room. I want to look at it when I wake up,” she said. Her words tugged at his heart a little.

He held out his hand and she turned over the other anchor before following him upstairs.

At the top of the stairs he turned left to go into their bedroom.

“Oh, uh . . . not that room. The one on the right.” She pointed.

He stopped and stared as she passed him to go into what had been the spare bedroom.

He followed her inside. The bed was made and the room was neat, but it was definitely being used for more than a guest room. Her books and laptop were piled on the nightstand. There was a towel hanging on the back of the closet door, which was open and full of her clothes.

“Why are you sleeping in here?” he asked without thinking first.

She shrugged.

“The faucet dripped in the master bathroom and the sound kept me up, so it was just easier to stay in here.” Another shrug.

“Did you call a plumber?”

“No. I didn't want a big bill.”

“Lex, if you need something, just ask. I'll help.” He tried not to sound angry.

“Why would I ask you, Ian? It's not your responsibility. You were already generous enough to give me the house. You aren't expected to help pay for its upkeep. And you're certainly not responsible for hanging paintings at all hours of the night.” Her bottom lip trembled, and he realized everything she'd said was a lie. The dripping faucet, the plumbing bill.

She just didn't want to have to sleep in their old bedroom. Probably because it hurt like hell.

He pulled her into his arms as she started to sob.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered over and over again.

“No. I am. I'm such an ass, Lex. I can't stop hurting you, no matter how hard I try.” He guided her over to sit on the edge of the bed and sat down next to her with his arm still around her. “And I should have texted you back and told you I was thinking about you and sticky buns, because I was. I think about that weekend all the time. I don't know what my problem is.” He raked his fingers through his hair.

“Your problem is me,” she said softly.

“No. You're definitely not my problem. Except when you try to hang a painting.” They chuckled, and he kissed her hair. Then he kissed her cheek, before moving to her lips. She pulled away. “You're still with the ravioli guy?” he guessed by her reaction. She nodded. “Why didn't you call him to help with the wall anchor thingies?” He used her own words, which made her lip pull up on the one corner.

“He's a surgeon. He can't risk hurting his hands.”

“Seriously?” he said. She laughed at his expression.

“No. I didn't want to ask him. He works all the time. When he isn't working, it seems rude to ask him to do fix-it things. Besides . . .”

“Besides?”

“He's never been in my bedroom,” she said in a rush, like she was embarrassed. Ian couldn't have been happier. Of course he knew from experience that Lexi didn't need a bedroom to have a good time, but chances were they would have started with the more conventional venues before branching out.

He got up and inspected the wall until he could hide his smile.

“You want it here where this big dent is?”

“Yes.” She sighed.

He got his tools out, knowing how the tool belt turned her on. He could feel her watching him as he worked. He didn't mind at all. Unfortunately, the job didn't take as long as he wanted. The anchor was installed in minutes.

“When did you start to hate me, Ian?”

He just about dropped the drill on his foot and turned to face her with his brows creased.

“I don't hate you, Lex. I've never hated you, not once, ever.”

“When did you realize you didn't love me anymore?”

“I—I—what does it matter? Why are you asking me this?” He reached for the painting so he had something to do.

“I never got the chance to ask you. I thought we were going to go to counseling. I thought I'd be able to find out what happened, but I didn't.”

“I know. I'm sorry about that. I just couldn't do it.” He would do anything to go back and do things right. Maybe they would have had a chance if he'd been able to face her. If he'd talked it out and told her that he was terrified of failing her.

He sat down on the bed next to her again.