Tainted Page 9

  Like Honor and Zane’s house, Doc owned one of the older houses in town. These homes perched on the hillside like stairsteps, with the view of the ocean as the primary architectural goal.

  When she’d first come to Cliffside Bay, she’d been immediately smitten by the natural beauty of the landscape. Having lived on the coast in Oregon with its jutting monster rocks and rough surf, she hadn’t thought the northern coast of California would suit her. Like many assumptions, including her initial idea of Lance Mullen, she was incorrect.

  She’d expected Lance’s view of her to be tainted by the others. He would come to her already disliking her. However, when she’d first met him at her father’s wedding, Lance had appeared to be without prejudice. He’d stayed near her during the reception, even sitting with her at dinner and, later, asking her to dance. She’d presumed at the time that Flora had bullied him into babysitting her. Flora wasn’t the type to leave something to chance. No, she would make sure witchy Mary didn’t ruin the wedding by assigning the nicest man in the world to keep a close watch on her.

  To this day, she wasn’t sure if that assumption had been true. Regardless, Lance was kind to her that night. He was funny and charming in a quiet way. Her preferred type of person. One couldn’t trust the most gregarious person in the room. Charisma didn’t equal character.

  Lance Mullen. How could she have known when she’d first met him at her father’s wedding that he would become so integral to her life?

  She’d had no intention of confessing to the pregnancy. When she’d seen how upset Brody was, she’d felt compelled to tell the truth. Once again, it came back to her lies. If she wasn’t careful, she could cause a rift between the brothers. She would never forgive herself it that happened.

  The door to the patio creaked, interrupting her thoughts. Kara stepped outside, carrying a blanket. “It’s cold out here. I thought you might want this for your shoulders.”

  Mary thanked her and took the blanket, grateful for the warmth. As overheated as she’d been earlier when under interrogation, her stint on the patio had chilled her. “I didn’t realize how cold I was.”

  “The dampness will do it,” Kara said. “My mom always said it seeps into your bones.”

  “My mom hated the rain when we lived in Oregon,” Mary said. “She always said she preferred the snow of the east coast over the endless gray.”

  “She had a point.” Kara flipped a light switch and the gas fire pit came to life. “Want to sit?”

  Mary agreed and pulled one of the chairs out from under the awning. Kara did the same.

  When they were settled, Kara warmed her hands near the fire. “I’m not one to mince words,” Kara said. “I’m sorry we got off to such a bad start. I should have tried harder to get to know you. I had no idea about…what you’ve been through.”

  “It’s my fault,” Mary said. “You and Brody were nice from the beginning and I acted awful. There’s no excuse, really, other than I panicked. I thought I was going to lose my dad too. After everything, he was the only one I had left.”

  “I get it. I lost everyone I ever loved when I was forced to leave it all behind and move to a place I’d never been, knowing no one. If I’d had just one person left from my old life, I would’ve clung to them with everything I had.”

  The back of Mary’s throat ached. What was it about being understood that made her want to cry?

  “Lance is special to me. I always wanted a brother,” Kara said. “It goes without saying that I want only the best for him. I’ve hoped and prayed for Lance to find his soulmate.”

  “You think we’re soulmates?” Mary asked.

  “Don’t you?”

  Mary studied Kara’s profile. Shadows thrown from the fire made it impossible to decipher any subtext.

  “I don’t know if I believe in soulmates,” Mary said.

  A light came on from inside the house, illuminating the far end of the patio.

  “The boys must be having a cigar,” Kara said. “That light is Doc’s study.” Kara gestured toward the newly lit window just as someone opened it from the inside. “They don’t want Janet to know they’re smoking.” Kara laughed. “She does, of course.”

  The faint scent of cigar smoke drifted out to them. Mary was about to ask Kara how she was feeling when Brody’s emotionally charged voice carried out the window.

  “You’re in denial, man. She trapped you into this for your money.”

  “Give me a break,” Lance said. “She doesn’t even care about money, unless it’s to buy more books.”

  “There’s no way you love her. This was a one-night stand after a drunken New Year’s Eve. Are you sure it’s even yours?”

  “Don’t be an ass.”

  “Does she know you have twenty million dollars in bank?” Brody asked.

  Twenty million dollars?

  “This is a fifty-fifty state, you idiot. She could get half of your money. Half of the money you lived in a rathole for years to make.”

  “She’s my wife. I love her. She’s going to have my child. Your niece or nephew. What’s the matter with you?

  “I’m looking out for you! Dad would want me to.” Brody’s voice had raised to the level that half the neighborhood could probably hear him. “After what happened back in New York do really expect me to just stand aside and let another manipulative woman ruin your life? She could get half your house, which is on my property.”

  “I’m going to kill him,” Kara said under her breath.

  Mary couldn’t move, stuck to the chair, barely breathing.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Kara said. “He’s protective of Lance. He doesn’t trust people.”

  Mary managed to croak out a few words. “I didn’t even know Lance had that kind of money.”

  Kara stared at her. “You didn’t?”

  “I had no idea.”

  Kara stood and held out her hand. “Come on. I’m getting you inside. It’s time to go home. I need to have a few words with my husband.”

  “I’ll just stay here until Lance comes out.” Wild boars from Africa would have to chase her back inside.

  “I’ll send him out with your bag.” Kara knelt by Mary’s chair. “Brody’s overreacting. He’s not good with surprises or change.”

  Mary wiped her eyes of the stupid tears that blinded her. “It’s fine. I know it’s my fault. If I’d acted differently in the beginning, things would be better between all of us.”

  “That’s no excuse for him to act like this. I’m sorry. Truly.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just, please, get Lance.” I just want Lance.

  “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch?”

  “Sure.” Her mouth had turned to stone.

  After Kara disappeared inside, Mary stared into the fire and let the tears come. Soon, Lance came out, carrying her bag.

  He immediately fell to his knees beside her. “Kara told me you guys heard all that. I’m sorry.”

  “Can we go home?” She gave her eyes one final swipe, knowing but not caring that her makeup was probably smeared all over her face.

  He held out his hand. “I have ice cream.”

  “What kind?” She let him help her to her feet.

  “Salted caramel.”

  “No chocolate?”

  “We can stop at the store. Whatever you want, I’ll get you.”

  “Rocky road?”

  “Consider it done.”

  Mary changed into soft cotton pajamas and washed her face before joining Lance in the living room. Two bowls of ice cream waited on the coffee table. He’d changed into sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. The room smelled slightly of his cologne and an orange blossom scented candle.

  Night now, the room had transformed from a light and airy beach house to a cozy retreat. Outside, the sea presented black and silent. The gas fireplace and several candles cast shadows in the dim room. Classical acoustic guitar played from hidden speakers.

  He patted the sp
ot next to him on the couch. She settled in, letting him drape a soft cashmere blanket over her legs. He handed her the bowl of rocky road and a spoon.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Not especially.”

  He didn’t push further. They ate from the bowls of ice cream and watched the fire.

  “That was harder than I thought it would be,” she said, finally. “Hearing how much he distrusts me.”

  “I’m sorry he hurt you.” Lance’s voice sounded hoarse.

  A shouting match with your brother Snape could do that to a man. Snape? Not quite right for Brody, but it would do for now.

  “Tomorrow with Flora and my dad might be worse,” she said. “And now we’re going to have to tell them about the baby. Now that’s it’s out with one set of parents, we have to tell the others.”

  “Flora will be excited about the baby.”

  “I’ve blown it with her too,” Mary said. Tainted.

  “They’ll all come around. You’ll see.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “You have me.” He put his empty bowl on the coffee table and draped an arm around the back of the couch so that he faced her. “You have my word. I’ll always be here for you.”

  “What about if we divorce? Do you think they’ll try and take the baby from me?” There. She’d said it. Biggest fear. Worst case scenario.

  “Over my dead body.” He played with the fringe on the blanket that covered her lap. “No one will have anything to say about this baby but you and me. No matter what the future holds for us, when it comes to our baby, we’re a team. You can trust me.”

  “I can’t lose another one.”

  “You won’t. I’m not going to let anything happen to either one of you.” He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. She waited, assuming he had something to add. Instead, he looked back at her and smiled. “Eat your ice cream.”

  She ate another bite. The velvety dark chocolate soothed the back of her throat. She rested her head against his shoulder, a habit she’d formed in less than forty-eight hours. Lance was getting to her. He had her believing that she could trust him. If it weren’t that there was a huge lie between them, maybe they had a chance.

  The fact that he was worth so much money would only make matters worse. Once she told him what she’d done, he would think Brody was right. Right now, he didn’t think her capable of lies, but he didn’t know her.

  I was drunk. Maybe that gives me a pass?

  It wouldn’t. Nothing could save this. She placed her hand over her flat stomach.

  “I had no idea you were mega rich,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Yeah, about that.” He ran his fingers through his hair like she sometimes did after wearing a tight ponytail for too long. “I didn’t want you to know in case it scared you off the plan.”

  “Honestly, it might have. I don’t want you to ever think this is about money for me,” she said.

  “Don’t you think I know that?” He took her empty bowl and set it on the coffee table next to his, then placed his hand on her thigh. “I see you exactly as you are.”

  She took a second to gather herself. Tell him what you did. Then he’ll know how awful you really are.

  “But Lance, I can’t do this.”

  “What?”

  “Keep sleeping with you. It’s not right and it’s confusing.”

  “Are you mistaking confusion for feelings? You can’t possibly respond to me the way you do and sit there and tell me you feel nothing for me.”

  “It’s just sex for me. Nothing more.” God would strike her dead for her lies. Or He should anyway.

  Lance stood and went to the fireplace. With his back to her, he spoke quietly. “If that’s all it is, then I agree. We should stop.”

  “I’m sorry, Lance. But I don’t want what you want.”

  He whirled around to look at her. “But why? Can’t you see who I am? Can’t you see I would never hurt you?”

  I see exactly. You don’t see the monster I am.

  “It’s not you,” she said. “This is about who I am. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.”

  His shoulders sagged. “I don’t know why you’re actively resisting a gift like this. For as long as I live, I’ll never understand it.”

  “It’s just that…there’s something I should tell you.”

  “Stop. I get it. You don’t love me, and you think you never will. I’m going to bed. Don’t forget we have Flora and Dax in the morning.” With that, he left the room. She heard his footsteps trudge up the stairs. When his bedroom door slammed shut, she let the tears come, sobbing silently into the blanket.

  Chapter Seven

  Lance

  * * *

  THEY ARRIVED AT Flora and Dax’s the next morning a little after ten. Before he rang the doorbell, he looked over at Mary. She looked urban yet feminine in loose jeans and a pink sweater. “You remember the script?” he asked.

  “Yes, you?”

  “All I have to do is tell the truth, but yours might be harder to remember since it’s made up.”

  “Lance.” She placed a cold hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “You already said that.” Once during an awkward breakfast and once on the way over. This made three times. “It’s okay. You ready?”

  “I guess so.” She sounded soft and sad, like her pink sweater.

  He rested his chin on the top of her head and gave her a quick squeeze. “No matter what, I always have your back. Now, let’s get this over with.” He rang the doorbell.

  Mary brought one hand to her mouth, like she was going to be sick.

  The door flew open, revealing Flora, who greeted them with a delighted smile. “Lance, what’re you doing here?”

  “This and that,” he said.

  She looked at him and then back at Mary with a suspicious glint in her eyes. Flora never missed anything when it came to either of the Mullen brothers. As children, they couldn’t even think about doing something naughty or she’d have them upstairs in their rooms thinking instead about the consequences of their actions.

  “We have some news, Lance said.

  “News? Intriguing.” Flora asked them inside, running a hand through her salt and pepper curls. “We just arrived. The plane was late out of Portland this morning. Terrible fog. Dax is bringing in the bags.” She grabbed Lance into a hug. “You look terrible.”

  “I do?”

  “The five o’clock shadow makes you look like a homeless person.” Her mouth pursed with disapproval. “Or a criminal.”

  “That sentiment seems to be going around,” Lance said with a secret wink to Mary. She missed it, staring at her hands, obviously too nervous to heed his teasing.

  “Mary, you look very well,” Flora said as she patted Mary awkwardly on the shoulder. Oh, brother, Flora. You can do better than that.

  “You as well,” Mary said. “You’ve changed your makeup.”

  Flora wore her usual red lipstick, but her eyes were made up, quite attractively with a smoky shadow and mascara. “I had a makeover at that overly priced Nordstrom. Your father insisted. I felt like a fool. An old lady sitting on one of those stools with that bright light on my face. Feet couldn’t even reach the ground. It was mortifying.”

  “It looks very nice,” Mary said.

  “I agree,” Lance said.

  Dressed in a long tunic and leggings, Flora looked like a society lady rather than the woman who had worked as the Mullens’ housekeeper for forty years. Brody and Lance had never been able to convince her to spend any money on clothes. Dax seemed to have broken through.

  Dax came in then, wiping his hands on a towel. “Hi sweetheart.” He folded Mary into an embrace.

  “Lance?” Dax held out his hand and they shook. “Good to see you. Come sit, kids. I just put some coffee on.”

  “We have something we need to talk to you about,” Mary said.

  “Have a seat in the l
iving room. I’ll get us the coffee,” Flora said.

  Dax and Flora’s cottage was a modest fifteen hundred square feet, all on one level. This was meant to be their part-time home, with the residence up in Oregon as their primary one. Flora had told him in confidence she preferred the small cottage they’d had built to her specifications. Like Lance’s home, the kitchen and living room were one big space that opened to a patio. Nestled in the trees, they had a peekaboo view of the ocean.

  Decorated in tans and greens that mirrored the various trees outside the windows, the room had a comfortable, casual vibe, with hard and soft edges in compatible dichotomy. Exactly like Flora.

  “Forget the coffee,” Lance said. “We need to get this over with.”

  “Over with?” Dax rubbed his chin and looked at his daughter. With a thin, angular face, intelligent eyes, and long fingers, he seemed like the poster child for an oral surgeon. Lance could almost see his photograph on a large billboard. Need oral surgery? Dr. Dax is your man.

  “Please, Dad, just sit,” Mary said.

  Dax wore khakis, perfectly pressed, and a white sweater that highlighted his almost all white head of hair and closely trimmed beard. Why did he get to have a beard if Lance couldn’t?

  Dax and Flora sat together on the couch. Mary and Lance took the loveseat opposite them.

  “We have exciting news,” Lance said. “Two days ago, Mary and I flew to Vegas and got married.”

  Everything about Dax’s demeanor remained calm, including his steady voice. “You did what?”

  Flora’s already wild curls seemed to stand on end, like she’d just received electric shock. She looked at Lance as if he’d just confessed to a murder. He knew that look. He was in trouble.

  “Why in the name of heaven would you deny your mother a wedding?” Flora asked.

  That was the first thing out of her mouth? Interesting.

  “You’ve been seeing each other?” Dax asked.