Hothouse Flower (Sound of Silence Series, Book Three) Read online

  Now that I’m older I realize Jace made me laugh because I felt happy when I was with him. I laughed out of sheer joy. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a funny guy and his jokes cracked me up. But really it was his mere presence that altered my mood, not necessarily his comedic timing.

  Surely he can see right through me. My facial expressions must be telling the world how much I adore this man. I just hope they’re not telling him the same message.

  “It’s been so long, Shay. You look beautiful. It really is good to see you.”

  I don’t respond with the expected good to see you too. But it is good to see him. My eyes are the happiest they’ve ever been.

  I’d better choose my next words carefully—my resentment is showing like a slip sneaking out from the bottom of a skirt. My words are on par with a wardrobe malfunction. It’s time to rein it all in and turn my self-control up a notch.

  “How long has it been? Six years?” he asks.

  Yes. Six years of absolute deafening silence. But who’s counting? “I don’t know. It’s been so long, I lost track of time. Haven’t you?” Okay, that was good. It portrays the required amount of indifference without being rude.

  “I never lose track of anything,” he says with probing eyes that bore into mine.

  “Not true. You lost track of me.” I regret my words immediately. I shouldn’t allow this meeting to get personal. I should be aloof and remote, as if I hardly remember him.

  Not possible. I can’t pretend he means nothing to me. I’m warring between love and hate. The conflict is real and I can’t decide which way to go.

  I hate to admit it, but he seems genuinely happy to see me and it takes me back a little, especially since we didn’t part on good terms. I suppose he could be hanging on to feelings of anger toward me. After one mistake, I left him. I didn’t allow him to explain or apologize. I left a wake of silence behind me and ended everything very abruptly. That was what he deserved after what he did. The ball was in his court and he should have tried to contact me.

  But he never did.

  “No, actually, I didn’t.” He has the calm lawyer voice down to an art. He takes a breath and I don’t know how, but somehow I know he’s going to go in for the kill next. “Instead of joining me at NYU as planned, you went to UCLA where you graduated with a degree in business. You got a job working in Human Resources for a major hotel chain and you stayed with them for around six months. Then you met a man named Asher Caldwell. You married him after dating for only one month. Your marriage lasted for six months and when he cheated on you, you left him. You were pregnant at the time and you moved in with your mother. Now you have an almost two year old daughter named Brit and you started your own bakery business that is doing quite well.”

  My mouth hangs open for a second and I’m so stunned, I can’t move. No, stunned doesn’t even come close to how I feel. Thunderstruck might be a little more apt.

  “H-how do you know all that?”

  “How could I not know? You were the woman I was supposed to marry . . . the woman I should’ve married.”

  I can’t tear my eyes away from his. He’s always been a sweet talker. He knows how to whisper sweet nothings like nobody’s business. I used to think he was sincere, a man who felt deeply and loved deeply.

  Now I think he just knows how to say what a girl wants to hear.

  I take a moment to compose myself because even though I know he’s smooth, his words still have an effect upon me. I think I might’ve blushed, I might even have swayed a little on my feet, but I’m pretending as though it didn’t happen.

  I clear my throat and change the subject. “So, are you home to stay, Jace?”

  “I am. When my mother no longer needs me, I plan to open up a law practice right here in Sweetwater.”

  I can’t hide my shock. I wasn’t expecting that. Jace took to New York City life the way a dog latches onto a bone. “Oh, that surprises me.”

  “We always said we were going to settle in Sweetwater, didn’t we? It’s home. Now we’re actually doing it.”

  “We aren’t doing anything.” Oops. There I go again with the word vomit. My bitterness has a voice. And it isn’t pretty. I need to tame that big black monster inside me.

  “Why aren’t we, Shay? I’ve never understood why.”

  He’s so genuine, my heart pricks with pain. But I harden myself against him. I will not let him in. I won’t. I won’t. “If you don’t know or understand why, then I can’t help you.”

  A genuine look of confusion wanders over his features. “So, press one if I understand and press two if I don’t? Is there a third option?”

  I ignore his attempt at humor. I am not the Ladybug anymore. “I’m not going to spell it out for you, Jace. You know that I know the real you.” And let me tell you, he’s sadly lacking. Okay, maybe in just one area, but it’s a vital area. When it comes to relationships, it’s numero uno and I can’t let it slide. No way.

  “The real me?” He tilts his head to one side. “Oh, that guy. Yeah, I know him. Such a jerk.”

  I will not laugh. I will not laugh. I’ve wanted to rage at him for the longest time. I went through all the stages of grief when I knew we were over. Shock hit me first and during that stage, I still loved him with my whole heart and soul. Then came denial. I wanted some kind of explanation to magically appear, something that would erase what he had done and make everything okay. Sadness came next and I spent way too many nights crying over him. Then anger enveloped me and to be honest, it has never left. I’m filled with so much pent up rage, it scares me. The problem is that the intense love remained as well, much to my dismay. Love and anger are no match, hence the battle that rages within me. The problem is it’s been too long and I’m just coming across as childish. It’s the equivalent of hitting someone back after they hit you—six years ago.

  It isn’t possible for us to be casual and detached. If we’re in the vicinity of one another, emotions will always flare. I should have known that.

  He tries again. “Maybe you could fill me in and let me know what Mr. Hyde has done. He keeps secrets from me. What exactly are you talking about?”

  So, that’s the way he’s going to play it—as if he has no memory of what happened between us. His stance makes me even angrier. He is not the victim in this situation. “You know what? It doesn’t matter anymore. It was a very long time ago. Ancient history. Tell you what, you just stay on your side of the street and I’ll stay on mine and everything will be fine.” My animosity surprises me. I mean, I’ve always known it was there, I just didn’t think it would explode out of me the first time I see Jace in six years. It’s like I’m that insecure college student once again instead of a mature woman. This isn’t going well.

  He studies me with a strange expression and I could almost say it’s a hurt expression. Almost.

  Is it remorse for getting caught cheating? Remorse for what might have been? If I hadn’t caught him, I have no doubt we’d be married today. We’d have children by now.

  And I’d be stuck in a marriage with a man who can’t be faithful. No, thank you.

  He immediately steps off the curb and heads straight for me with quick strides. That’s what I get for issuing a bit of an ultimatum.

  He keeps coming at me and I have to resist taking a step backward. I can’t erase the deer in the headlights look I know is pasted on my face. I stand my ground, swallowing hard at the sight of Jace approaching me with determination in his eyes. He stops when we’re face to face. I act brave, but I’m sort of whimpering on the inside. I owe it all to the marshmallow that resides inside of me. Maybe I should feed it to the big black monster and rid myself of it.

  I wonder if he sees right through my unkind words. Perhaps they reveal that I still have underlying feelings for him. If I didn’t care, this reunion wouldn’t mean a thing to me. My emotions toward him are so strong, I’m not even sure how to behave. I want to throw myself in his arms and kiss him. At the same time, I want to rage at him.
/>   Seriously, I’m a mess—and me and Jace, we are a disaster waiting to happen.

  His brown eyes bore into me. “What if I don’t want to stay on my side of the street? What if I want to come over to your side? What if I want to be close to you, as close as I can possibly get? What if I never want to be apart from you again in this lifetime?”

  That voice. Those words.

  I can’t decide if this is a dream or a nightmare. I close my eyes to try and calm myself. Those are words I’ve longed to hear from his lips. When it comes to us, he’s still the same Jace. And I’m still the same Shay. Wild and crazy emotions exist between us. Nothing has changed.

  I feel like a flower seedling, buried in the dark earth, longing to erupt and bloom. I just need water and sunlight to help me have the strength to do what I am intended to do. I don’t want Jace to be my nourishment, but I fear he is just that. His close proximity is already causing something inside of me to burst with life.

  I open my eyes and stare into his face. He’s older, with experience lines etched into his skin. His brown eyes are unwavering as he stares into mine.

  “I’ve always loved you, Shay. No matter how much time passes, that will never change.”

  I gasp. I wanted a showdown between us. It’s long overdue. But I didn’t expect this. I’m speechless and tongue tied and bowled over and . . .

  “Mama!”

  Brit comes running down the sidewalk toward me. I turn and see Mom at the screen door, watching me and Jace.

  Perfect timing. I was about to fall into his arms and forget everything except the feel of his lips on mine. My heart is about to beat out of my chest, produce legs, and jump into his waiting hands. Why would he say those things to me now? Why not six years ago? Why not three years ago? Why not six months ago? I don’t get it.

  At all.

  Brit stops short and looks Jace over from head to toe. “Hi,” she says innocently. She points to me and says, “Mama.” Then she points to herself and says, “Brit.”

  I guess that’s her way of introducing us and I can’t help but smile. My little girl is adorable and I’m not shy about telling the world. I don’t know how I ever lived without her. My life was empty, I just didn’t know it.

  Jace points to himself and says, “Jace.” Then he squats down until he’s on her level. “Hello, beautiful girl named Brit. You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” He grants her a genuine smile and I’m jealous that he didn’t give me one.

  Brit smiles at him as if she’s putty and I know Jace is our weakness. Like mother, like daughter. Then to my utter surprise, she throws her arms around his neck and hugs him. Jace hugs her back and picks her up in his arms as he stands.

  So much for stranger danger.

  Brit’s embrace ends as she places her hands on his face, one on each cheek, and studies him. The sight of her little feminine hands against his masculine jawline, as if she’s fascinated with him, does something to me.

  I want my hands on his face.

  No. No, no, no. I cannot let my thoughts wander like that.

  As I see my daughter in Jace’s arms, I’m also reminded that she needs a father in her life. She has Stony and she adores her uncle. He’s been so good to her. So has Grayson. But I know she needs more. She needs a constant male presence in her life. Asher wanted nothing to do with her and that makes me sad for her. At the same time, I believe her life is better without her father. He’s a manipulative man who would warp her view of men. I’m grateful he’s out of our lives. I hope he stays out. After our divorce, I went back to my maiden name and I gave Brit the last name of Randall as well, just so we would have one less connection to Asher.

  “Hello, Jace. Great to see you, son,” Mom says from the doorway.

  “Good to see you, Caroline. Thanks for taking such good care of my mom.”

  “How is she today?” Mom holds out her arms toward Brit and she squirms out of Jace’s arms and runs back to Mom. I’m ready to do the same thing. I’m such a coward.

  “Hanging in there. She’s a fighter.” Jace stuffs one hand in the pocket of his perfect fitting jeans. As much as I loved the suit on him yesterday, he seems more like the Jace I know when dressed casually. “She only has a few more rounds of chemo left. Then we’ll see if the tumor has shrunk enough to remove it. We’re hoping the doctors will declare her cancer free after that. It’s a longshot, but we’re hoping for a miracle. Getting her strength back will be the next mountain. At this point, we just have to take things a day at a time.”

  Mom walks down the sidewalk. “She’s so happy to have you home, Jace. That alone will lift her spirits and help her to recover.” Her expression is severe, yet her words are kind. I wonder if she’s struggling with her feelings toward Jace as well. I love my mom. She’s such a mama bear.

  “I hope so. She sleeps a lot, but she felt well enough to let me take her out to lunch today. We even did a few short errands. We speak on the phone often, but nothing beats face to face. I’ve missed that lady.”

  “And she’s missed you.”

  “She hasn’t kicked me out as of yet, so I must be doing something right.”

  “Being a caregiver isn’t easy. You’ll learn the ropes quickly.”

  “If they don’t strangle me first.”

  Mom actually laughs out loud in response. As for me, I refuse to give in to his humor. I am not his Ladybug anymore.

  Jace turns back to me and sends his most piercing gaze. I swear, the man can transform from the comedian to the smoldering male model at the drop of a hat. “I’d better get back inside and check on Mom. I look forward to seeing you again, Shay.”

  I don’t respond because I’m still in shock and desperately trying to regain my equilibrium. We’ve been reacquainted for all of two seconds and he’s already professed his love for me.

  I have no idea what to think or feel or say. I can’t help but feel this is another beginning—and I’m scared to death of enduring another ending.

  CHAPTER

  Three

  I PICK AT my dinner, thoughts churning through my mind. Although Jace’s declaration has left me dizzy, there’s something else that’s bothering me and I can’t quite place what it is.

  “Is dinner okay, Shay?”

  “It’s delicious, Mom. Thank you. I guess I’m just not very hungry.”

  I really should get my own place. But I don’t want to leave Mom alone. She’d never beg me to stay, but I know she hates the idea of living in this big house by herself. That’s why I did my first year of college right here in Sweetwater instead of joining Jace at NYU. It was one more thing that kept us apart, but Jace and I both agreed it was for the best. Dad had just passed and I couldn’t leave Mom. She protested, of course, but I ignored her. I refused to leave her during her first year of mourning. I know it was the right decision. But I do wonder if it was one of the nails in the Shay and Jace relationship coffin.

  Actually, I know it was. The right decision is the right decision though, and I don’t regret it.

  Mom and I enjoy each other’s company and we always get along famously. She really is my best friend. Truth be told, I enjoy living here with her and I prefer it to renting an apartment. I often feel as though I should feel differently though, like I should have the desire to leave the nest. Maybe I’m too content with my situation and need to branch out.

  Mom loves taking care of Brit while I’m at work. She says Brit is her little buddy and takes away the sting of loneliness in her twilight years. The arrangement has worked for us. She loves to cook and I love coming home to a warm dinner every evening. After working at the bakery all day, the last thing I want to do is go anywhere near the kitchen. Now that the bakery is doing well, I contribute to the finances because it makes me feel better about myself. Mom’s lottery payments have ended, but she doesn’t need to worry over money. She’s very frugal and has done well for herself.

  In reality, she’s the one helping me, but she likes to act as though I’m helping her. She t
ells her friends, “Shay is such a big help to me. I’m so thankful to have her home.” That’s my mom. She’s the most unselfish person I know. Everyone knows she’s the one helping me. It’s so obvious. She hasn’t fooled anyone, including me.

  Mom sighs. “I can’t remember, do you work at the bakery tomorrow? I don’t know where my mind is. I can’t remember a thing anymore.”

  Memory. That’s it. That is the thing niggling at the back of my mind. Jace acted as though he doesn’t understand why we broke up. Is it possible that he doesn’t remember what happened? He was drunk and I’ve heard an excess of alcohol can cause memory loss, but I don’t know how true it is. Some people have admitted to using it as an excuse for their behavior while intoxicated.

  “Shay?”

  “Sorry, Mom.” It’s Saturday tomorrow and I don’t usually work on the weekends. “Yeah, I work tomorrow, but we close at three. Suzanne is still out on maternity leave. I’m shorthanded and until I hire another employee, I’ll need to work weekends.” Suzanne is a baker extraordinaire and a gem as an employee. I’m missing her something awful.

  “Brit and I will have a lovely afternoon at the park.”

  “Park!” Brit squeals with excitement. I don’t need to feel guilty about working. Brit is well taken care of. But I still hate not having our weekends together.

  After I bathe Brit, read her favorite story twenty times, and tuck her into bed, I ruminate over my earlier thoughts. I grab my laptop and curl up on my bed to do a little research.

  I’m aware of the usual consequences of drinking alcohol, but from there on out, I’m a little naïve. Actually, I’m totally clueless. I’m not ashamed of that though. Personally, alcohol is not for me. Mom has always had strong convictions where drugs and alcohol are concerned and she passed them along to me and Stony. We followed because that’s how we were raised. It never appealed to me anyway.

  Jace, on the other hand, had very different reasons to avoid it—real life reasons. His father was an alcoholic and left their family. Jace confided in me once that he blamed his father’s behavior on alcohol. He hated the very idea of drinking. At a very young age, he witnessed the way it transformed his father’s behavior and it disgusted him. If we were at a party and someone pulled out booze, we left. He was adamant about it. He didn’t just hate it, he loathed it.