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Cross My Heart Page 3
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She shook her head, pushing the past away as she always did when memories threatened to surface. The present was all that mattered, and in the present, her job defined her. When Lacey wasn’t doing some of the different jobs her clients required, she was smoothing over crises between employees and clients of her small company, aptly titled Odd Jobs.
“What exactly is the problem?” Lacey asked Amanda Goodwin, a client who used Lacey’s services weekly and had been a valuable source of referrals.
“She,” Amanda said, pointing her manicured fingernails toward Serena, “doesn’t understand English. Her cleaning skills are wonderful, but her English isn’t. I needed to explain something, so I spoke to her in Spanish. She burst into tears and called you.”
Lacey nodded. Serena tended to cry easily, which could cause problems on the job. “What exactly did you say to her? In Spanish, if you don’t mind.” Lacey kept a comforting hand on Serena’s shoulder as she spoke.
Lacey had become close to fluent in Spanish during her early days in New York City. She’d discovered her high school Spanish had come in handy and allowed her to pick up the language easily, which helped, since she’d needed a job and the only person who’d hired her was a woman named Marina who ran a cleaning service comprised mostly of immigrant girls. What she didn’t know, Marina taught her, tutoring Lacey at night so she could not only speak Spanish, but she could get her GED high school diploma.
After arriving in New York, Lilly had taken the name of Lacey Kinkaid and used it religiously out of fear of being found out by her uncle. Later, when she’d become an adult and wanted to form a business, she knew she needed to do things legally. Although she went by the name of Lacey Kinkaid, her legal documents still read Lilly Dumont. Few people questioned, less cared, and at this point, her uncle wouldn’t think to look for her.
She glanced at her client, silently asking her to explain what was wrong.
“I wanted to tell her not to feed the dog.” The other woman pointed to the Pomeranian, a dust-mop of a dog lying at her owner’s feet. “So I said, por favor no comas al perro.” Amanda folded her arms across her chest, obviously pleased with her ability to communicate with the hired help.
Lacey burst into laughter at the same time Serena began to wail in a torrent of rapid Spanish that even Lacey couldn’t understand. She did happen to catch a few choice words which clearly indicated how upset and offended Serena was.
“You see? What’s wrong? Why is she so upset?” Amanda asked.
Lacey pinched the bridge of her nose before meeting Amanda’s stare. “Because you said, please don’t eat the dog instead of please don’t feed the dog, which in Spanish is, por favor, no les des comida al perro—which actually translates to please do not give food to the dog,” Lacey said, her Spanish grammar lessons coming back to her. “Serena’s insulted because you’d think she’d do such a thing.” Lacey swallowed another chuckle.
Amanda, meanwhile, who truly did have a decent disposition and treated hired help nicely, flushed in mortification. “I asked my daughter for help. She takes Spanish in school,” the other woman explained.
At least Amanda was too embarrassed by her mistake to complain about Serena’s overreaction, something Lacey would have to deal with later on. For now, Lacey repeated the mix-up to Serena in Spanish before turning back to her client.
“Don’t feel bad. There’s actually no real verb for feed, which probably resulted in things getting twisted around.”
“I’m sorry you came all the way over here,” Amanda said.
“I’m not. I wish all my crises could be resolved so easily.” After making certain both Serena and Amanda were fine with her leaving, Lacey headed for home.
Her dog, Digger, met her at the door, her stubby tail wagging like crazy. Lacey liked nothing better than coming home to find her pet jumping up and down with excitement.
“Hey, you,” Lacey said, patting the dog’s head.
With the pooch at her heels, Lacey tossed her purse onto the bed and glanced at her phone, checking messages. There was only one. The only message was from Alex Duncan, an investment banker she’d met and recently become close to thanks to an introduction by a client. He treated her well, took her to Broadway shows and upscale restaurants, and bought her expensive things that reminded her more of her upbringing prior to her parents’ deaths than her life since. He brought forth a longing for things she missed, like security and caring, luxury and stability.
He wanted to take care of her in the old-fashioned sense by providing her with a home and a family. Lacey had craved those things ever since she’d lost her parents. Her mom, Rhona, had been home every afternoon when Lacey returned from school, and her dad, Eric, had tucked her into bed each night. Losing them had been traumatic and had upended her entire world. In her innocence, she’d turned to her uncle Marc, and he’d betrayed her.
Other than Ty and Hunter, she hadn’t allowed anyone to get close to her in years. But she desired intimacy with another human being. She needed affection and wanted someone to come home to each night. Alex was a good man. The best, really, yet he hadn’t breached her barriers. And she hadn’t accepted his marriage proposal….
Not yet. Something she couldn’t define was missing and no matter how much she cared about him, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite say she’d fallen in love with him. They’d even been intimate for a while now, but still, a deeper connection was missing.
But Alex understood she had a rocky past—though he didn’t know all the details—and he was willing to give her time to come around because he loved her. And because he was convinced that love could grow over time. Lacey wanted to believe, so she hadn’t given up on a future with him.
With a groan, she pressed the delete key on the answering machine and quickly stripped for a long, hot shower. She’d spent the afternoon food shopping for a busy working mother, then she’d walked an array of dogs down Fifth Avenue before heading out to solve the crisis between Serena and Amanda. Lacey had been looking forward to some downtime all day. Time that didn’t include worrying about her business or dissecting her feelings for Alex.
Half an hour later, she was wrapped in a terry robe and scrambling eggs, enjoying the low hum of music and cooking in her own kitchen, when the doorbell rang. Digger immediately began her obsessive barking and ran for the door.
Lacey sighed. She could only hope Alex hadn’t decided to pay her a visit to talk things over. Shutting off the burner on the stove, she moved the frying pan away from the heat.
Then she stepped up to her door and glanced through the peephole. Alex had blond hair and wore suits or buttoned shirts. The guy outside her door had long dark hair, an old jean jacket slung over his shoulder, and looked eerily familiar.
She blinked and focused on the man once more, recognition dawning. Oh. My. God. Ty.
With shaking hands, she opened her apartment door. “Ty?” she stupidly asked. She’d know him anywhere. She saw him not only in her memories, but in her dreams.
He nodded, but before he could reply, Digger began sniffing at Ty’s feet and nudged his leg with her nose, begging for attention.
“Digger, off!” Lacey chided, but the dog didn’t listen.
Lacey had always thought she could judge a man by his reaction to a dog, so she grinned when Ty bent down and petted Digger’s head. Ty obviously hadn’t changed. He still had a soft spot for those in need, like she had been, Lacey thought. Which brought her back to the niggling question that lingered long after she’d left Hawken’s Cove. Had Ty felt those same crazy feelings of desire and young love she’d felt for him or was she just another stray, like Hunter, that he’d taken under his wing and protected so well?
She glanced at Ty and realized in one quick instant that he still had the ability to affect her deep inside. Her emotions soared, from elation over seeing him again to a fuzzy warmth in her heart to a quickening in her belly that she hadn’t experienced in years.
Enjoying the attention fro
m a stranger, Digger lifted her front paws onto his legs, begging for more.
“Okay, you shameless hussy. Leave Ty alone,” Lacey said, pulling the dog off of Ty.
“He’s a she?” Ty asked, obviously surprised.
Lacey nodded. “She doesn’t have a body any female would want, but she’s a sweetheart.”
“She doesn’t have a name any woman would want, either,” he said, laughing.
His voice had grown deeper, she thought, the husky sound providing a rush in her veins.
“I found her digging in the trash, hence her name. The poor thing was starving. I took her in, fed her and tried to locate her owners. No luck.” She shrugged and scratched under Digger’s chin. “She’s been eating me out of house and home ever since.” Digger was Lacey’s in all her bad breath glory. She freed the dog’s collar. “Go!” she directed, and the dog finally ran into the apartment.
Lacey edged back so Ty could enter and he stepped by her, treating her to a whiff of warm, sexy cologne. Her body tightened at the unfamiliar, yet welcoming scent.
Once inside, she let the door slam shut and Ty turned to face her. He studied her without shame, his gaze swallowing her whole, his curiosity evident. She pulled the collar on her fluffy robe together, but nothing could change the fact that beneath it, she was nude.
Unable to resist, Lacey looked him over, as well. He’d been a sexy kid when she’d seen him last. He’d matured in the last ten years. His shoulders were broader, his face leaner, and a somberness lingered in his hazel eyes that ran deeper than she remembered. He was all male and drop-dead gorgeous, Lacey thought.
And when he resettled his gaze on her face, she couldn’t mistake the slight smile that tilted his lips. “You’re looking good,” he said at last.
Her face heated at the compliment. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek and wondered why he’d shown up now.
What exactly did fate, and even more, sexy Ty, have in store for her?
Lacey excused herself before disappearing through a doorway leading to what he assumed was her bedroom. She’d instructed him to make himself comfortable, something he’d have an easier time doing if she changed out of that bathrobe. Though the fluffy material covered her well, the deep vee left him wondering exactly what lay beneath the material while the short hem had revealed long, toned legs.
And that showed exactly where his thoughts had been since she’d opened her door, revealing a womanly version of the Lilly he’d known. The same and yet different, more beautiful, more secure in herself, more for him to handle, Ty thought.
He’d been in lust with her when he was young, intrigued by the girl with the big brown eyes and daring nature. Only after she was gone did he realize he’d loved Lilly. First love, puppy love, no matter what he called it, losing her had been painful. They’d been denied the opportunity to explore what might have been, and nothing and nobody since had even come close to making him feel as alive as Lilly had. She still did, if the spark inside him was any indication.
But the past was behind them, and opening his mind or his heart to her now could only lead to heartache. She had a life here that didn’t include him. She could have returned and opted not to. They’d each moved on.
Ty didn’t need her to break his heart all over again when he’d established an easy way of life. He settled for sex, not love, with women who wanted simple relationships and who wouldn’t complain when he grew bored, which he usually did. Lately he’d been hooking up with Gloria Rubin, a waitress at a bar he frequented when he didn’t go to Night Owl’s. She was divorced and liked it that way, but didn’t want to take any man home with her while her son was under the same roof. He had an empty apartment, which meant their relationship was convenient if not special. But it worked.
Ty shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced around Lilly’s living room in an attempt to get a feel for how she lived and who she’d become. He’d walked up three flights of dark stairs to reach her door, but at least the neighborhood seemed safe enough, and she had the ugly mutt for some sort of protection. The apartment itself wasn’t small; it was tiny. Yet despite the size, she’d put enough warm touches around to make it feel like home, not a small cell. Simple floral posters were framed and lined the walls, while live plants filled the room. Colored pillows brightened up the sofa, and a matching area rug lay beneath the table.
Noticeably absent were photographs of family and friends, and for the first time, he realized she’d left more than just Ty and Hunter behind. She’d abandoned a life and tangible memories. She’d turned her back on money and material things. She couldn’t have lived easily or well. All the more reason for her to return and stop her uncle from claiming what was rightfully hers.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Her voice distracted him, and he turned toward the light sound.
She rejoined him, this time wearing jeans and a plain pink T-shirt, both fitted, both showing feminine curves he couldn’t help but admire. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders in damp waves, framing her porcelain skin, and her chocolate-brown eyes were still as deep and perceptive as he remembered.
“No problem,” he assured her. “It’s not like you knew I was coming.”
She extended her hand toward the couch. “Why don’t we sit, and you can tell me what’s going on. Because I know you didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood.”
He sat beside her and leaned forward on his elbows. Despite the fact that he’d had time to rehearse his speech on the three-hour ride here, the words weren’t easy ones. “I wish I had just been in the neighborhood because I hate what I have to tell you now.”
“Which is?” she asked, remaining calm and composed.
“Your uncle is getting married,” Ty said.
She shivered at his words, her revulsion at hearing about the man clear in her expressive face.
Unable to help himself, Ty reached out and covered her knee with his hand. He’d meant to comfort her, but this first touch was electric, and her leg flinched beneath his palm, telling him she was affected by his touch.
As for Ty, his body tingled, and desire settled low in his belly. Damn, he thought. The old feelings were as real as ever, stronger even, because he was older, wiser, and he understood that his physical reaction was the tip of the iceberg. Below the surface, his feelings for her still ran deep, and he had to remind himself she was just passing through his life. She’d passed through once before, as had other people he’d cared for and lost.
After his father had taken off, Ty shut down until Hunter and Lilly arrived. He’d opened up to them only to have Lilly desert him in the end. Though she’d had no choice in going, she had had the option to return after she’d turned twenty-one and became of legal age. Even if she came to Hawken’s Cove with him now, it would only be to reclaim her money, not her old life.
Knowing that, Ty wouldn’t be putting himself out there for her in a way that would guarantee heartache and pain again. He slowly removed his hand.
“What does the fact that my uncle is getting married have to do with me?” Lilly finally asked, meeting his gaze with a hooded one of her own.
“His marriage is an aside, actually. He’s also decided to have you declared legally dead in order to get his hands on your trust fund.”
Her eyes opened wide and the color drained from her cheeks, leaving her pale. With a groan, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “The man is such a prick,” she said.
“That about sums it up.” Ty chuckled at her apt description.
Watching her reaction to the news, he didn’t know how he’d finish explaining the other reason he’d come. But then he reminded himself that although she appeared fragile and in need of protection, she had a deep internal strength that had served her all these years.
Ty cleared his throat and dove in. “You know this means you’re going to have to come home.”
Her eyes snapped open, her gaze one of horror. “No. No way.
”
He’d expected her initial resistance, at least until she had time to think things through. “So you’re going to just hand over your trust fund without a fight?”
She shrugged. “I’ve done fine without it.”
He rose from his seat and began to walk around her small but cheery apartment. “I’m not going to argue the point. But it isn’t his money to take. Your parents left it to you and you’re still alive and well. It’s one thing to leave the money untouched, another to let that bastard get his hands on it.”
She inhaled deeply, her indecision and pain evident. “How’s your mom?”
He eyed her warily. “We’ll have to get back to the subject eventually.”
“I know, but give me a chance to chew on it for a little while. So how is your mother?”
He nodded, accepting Lilly’s need for time. “Mom’s fine. She has a heart condition now, but with medication and diet she’s the same old Mom.” Ty tried not to let his tone change when discussing his mother, but the first thing that came to his mind was the cash deal Flo Benson had made with Marc Dumont.
As a kid, Ty had been blind to the truth even when his mother had started to buy them nicer things. He’d remained in the dark when she’d surprised him with a car on his twentieth birthday, claiming she’d used her savings. He’d gone to college with much less in student loans than he’d thought he’d need, and once again his mother said she’d been saving. He realized now he hadn’t wanted to see bad in his only parent, so he’d ignored the signs that something was wrong.
“How’d Flo take my—uh—disappearance?” Lilly asked. “It was hard for me, thinking about how much she must have suffered, believing I died while in her care.” Lilly’s eyes grew soft and damp at the memory.
Ty understood. He’d felt the same way. “Mom felt guilty,” he admitted. “She blamed herself. She wished she’d kept a better eye on you.”
“I’m sorry for that. I loved her, you know.” A smile curved her lips. “And Hunter? How is he?”