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The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke
Loree Lough
She’s ready for that second chance…But will he believe she's changed?When she fled Baltimore after a near-fatal accident that left her dependent on painkillers, Lillie Rourke had lost everything. Now, emotionally healed, she’s ready to make amends and start over. But Jase Yeager has moved on, and who can blame him? Yet Lillie isn’t giving up—on her or them. Earning back Jase’s trust won’t be easy, but Lillie’s no stranger to challenges…


She’s ready for that second chance...
But will he believe she’s changed?
When she fled Baltimore after a near-fatal accident that left her dependent on painkillers, Lillie Rourke had lost everything. Now, emotionally healed, she’s ready to make amends and start over. But Jase Yeager has moved on, and who can blame him? Yet Lillie isn’t giving up—on her or them. Earning back Jase’s trust won’t be easy, but Lillie’s no stranger to challenges...
LOREE LOUGH once sang for her supper. That space reserved in pubs for “the piano lady”? Well, that’s where she sat, strumming her Yamaha in cities all over the United States and Canada. Now and then, she blows the dust from the old six-string to croon a tune or two, but mostly, she writes. She feels blessed that most of her stories have earned four- and five-star reviews, but what Loree is most proud of are her Readers’ Choice Awards.
Loree and her husband live in a Baltimore suburb and enjoy spending time at their cozy cabin in Pennsylvania’s Allegheny Mountains (where she has nearly perfected her critter-tracking skills). They have two lovely daughters and seven “grandorables,” and because she believes in giving back, Loree donates generously to charity (see the full list at loreelough.com (http://www.loreelough.com)).
Loree loves hearing from her readers, some of whom have become lifelong friends! Find her on Facebook, Twitter or Pinterest.
Also By Loree Lough
By Way of the Lighthouse
The Man She Knew
Bringing Rosie Home
Those Marshall Boys
Once a Marine
Sweet Mountain Rancher
The Firefighter’s Refrain
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Redemption of Lillie Rourke
Loree Lough


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08496-3
THE REDEMPTION OF LILLIE ROURKE
© 2018 Loree Lough
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“You’re crying again.”
Lillie swiped at her traitorous tears. What right did she have to feel sorry for herself? Her disappointments had been self-inflicted, unlike those she’d thrust onto Jase.
Before she knew what was happening, he’d drawn her into a loose hug.
“I know how hard you’ve been trying, Lill.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “It’s clear you’re working hard to stay clean. This time.”
Who knew two little words could sting as much as a cold slap?
Lillie tried to back away, but the powder room was small. She had nowhere to go.
“Like I said before, you’re stubborn. You can beat this thing...if you want it badly enough.”
Lillie felt like shouting, If? This time? I’ve already beat it! I’ve been clean for more than a year, and I’m going to stay that way!
It wasn’t until he lifted her chin on a bent forefinger that she realized she’d said it all out loud.
“I know that, and I’m proud of you.”
Lillie studied his face, searching for signs of sincerity. Or doubt. Relief flooded through her when a slow smile lit his face. She summoned every ounce of willpower she had.
Because if he kept looking at her that way—the way he had before she’d destroyed them—Lillie feared she might say something to mess up the little bit of good she’d just earned in his eyes.
Dear Reader (#ub1a164b8-3279-57e1-8347-413af383bc39),
Whether we’ve watched a loved one plummet to rock bottom, supported a friend whose family member has succumbed to the disease or been there ourselves, addiction has touched so many of us.
It’s a complex illness, and like diabetes or cancer, ongoing management and support services can help people cope with their disease. There are plenty of effective treatments that can eliminate an addict’s dependence on addictive substances.
My objective in writing The Redemption of Lillie Rourke was to give a glimpse into the mind of a young woman whose journey into addiction wasn’t the result of peer pressure, depression or escape from a horrific past. Rather, Lillie had it all: a loyal family, caring friends and the love of Jase Yeager, a good and decent man.
If you or a loved one is grappling with addiction, I hope you’ll seek help. It’s out there, just waiting for you to benefit from it. These resources are a great place to start:
National Institute on Drug Abuse: nida.nih.gov (http://www.nida.nih.gov); 301-443-1124
National Institute of Mental Health: nimh.nih.gov (http://www.nimh.nih.gov); 1-866-615-6464
Substance Abuse Treatment Facility Locator: findtreatment.samhsa.gov (http://www.findtreatment.samhsa.gov); 1-800-662-HELP
SMART Recovery: smartrecovery.org (http://www.smartrecovery.org); 440-951-5357
Wishing you happiness and health,
Loree
This novel is dedicated to every reader who has ever purchased a Loree Lough book. Without your staunch support, I’d probably spend my days alphabetizing my pantry and spice cabinet, color-coordinating my closets, and rearranging bric-a-brac and knickknacks in my display cabinets.
Acknowledgments
Sincere thanks to Dan Remington, Steve Balore, Susan Griffin and Jennifer Myers, whose willingness to talk about their former dependence on drugs and alcohol enabled me to better understand and describe the challenges faced by those coping with addiction. Thanks, too, to Emily Yost (Cognitive Behavioral Therapist), and Martin Wilson, PhD, for their insights into the mind and behavior of the addict.
Contents
Cover (#u63812869-5a15-5c83-a88d-90f8e9d59dcb)
Back Cover Text (#u8f8f216e-8eec-52cf-ae8d-9b51033568c5)
About the Author (#ucc6a683d-6d38-52b0-ac53-764dbb482c49)
Booklist (#u89bc4409-86b0-51e9-8a1d-b5919f45cd1c)
Title Page (#uabe4c822-d651-5b52-aa43-4bcc3ec82b90)
Copyright (#u2f7a65cd-d6db-5546-8fa9-6f36965bee43)
Introduction (#u4139a101-03d9-5bcb-a1c6-2589a2effe22)
Dear Reader (#u07067b18-a187-5aaa-9f38-c571c4bb2752)
Dedication (#u63ebf625-3f9e-5694-b1b8-0720afb34998)
CHAPTER ONE (#u5b977b88-f103-5027-a14f-281ce855135b)
CHAPTER TWO (#u4ac17781-5c68-59f4-8c26-647c7204fa12)
CHAPTER THREE (#u08aa7417-b872-5b76-bffb-116cc4c73672)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u653e6267-2507-5fc6-9616-7310c79a4c82)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ub1a164b8-3279-57e1-8347-413af383bc39)
RAIN SHEETED DOWN the grimy window and puddled on the blacktop, and a dozen identical buses lined up in angled parking slots.
Lillie watched as grim-faced passengers boarded, a few pulling wheeled suitcases, others hauling overstuffed backpacks. As they jockeyed for overhead bins, the scent of damp wool and denim filled the space. And, she realized, someone was eating a tuna sandwich. She hoped its owner would finish it soon, because inhaling the fishy odor wouldn’t make the four-hour trip any easier.
“Are you saving this seat for someone?”
Lillie’s gaze traveled from the man’s haggard face to his frayed sweatshirt and holey jeans. Something told her he hadn’t paid top dollar for the distressed look. The passengers waiting in line behind him seemed equally interested in her answer, so Lillie gathered up her jacket and purse.
“Don’t worry,” he said, settling in beside her. “I don’t bite.”
“That’s good to know.”
His right forefinger aimed at the straps of the backpack nestled in her lap. “I don’t steal either, so...”
She relaxed her grip, but only a bit.
“Going all the way to Florida?”
“No.” As the driver buckled himself in, she slid the backpack to the floor. “Only as far as Baltimore.”
“Ah. A surprise Mother’s Day visit, huh?”
Lillie nodded, watching the driver adjust his rearview mirror, fire up the motor and close the door. It had been dumb luck that she’d get home in time to celebrate the day with her mom. She’d missed the annual cookout last year, thanks to Rising Sun’s strict don’t-leave-the-grounds policy. And in all honesty, she hadn’t been fully present the year before that, thanks to—
“My mom moved to Orlando couple years back. That’s where I’m headed.”
Another nod. Perhaps her nonanswers would send a not interested in talking message.
But he said, “Don’t mind admitting, I’m not looking forward to it.”
Lillie knew the feeling.
“Because last time I saw her, I was falling-down drunk.” He winced, then hung his head. “I apologized. Promised I’d quit. But that look on her face...”
The look that said “I don’t believe you.” Lillie cringed, remembering it on her parents’ faces. Her siblings’. Worse yet, on Jase’s handsome face.
Her seatmate sighed in frustration. Or maybe it was regret.
“That’s what finally convinced me to sign into rehab—that look, I mean—and what kept me clean these past two years.”
A recovering addict, going home to make amends, and to prove that he’d kicked the habit, once and for all.
Just like you, Lill. Except that he’d been sober a whole year longer than she had.
Of all the empty seats on this bus, why had he chosen the one beside her?
He held out a hand. “Gabe Sheffield.”
“Lillie Rourke,” she said, taking it.
She’d learned in rehab that to truly come to terms with drug or alcohol dependence, addicts had to admit their own culpability in the addiction. Lillie had managed to take full responsibility with the staff at Rising Sun, but wasn’t at all sure she could pull it off with the people she’d hurt.
For one thing, her parents and siblings would have questions, and so would Jase. She owed them straightforward answers. What better way to practice dealing with the ugly facts than by confessing them with someone she’d never see again?
“I was in rehab, too.”
“Yeah?” He studied her face. “You could have fooled me.”
“Why?”
“You don’t look desperate, or like you have something to prove.”
During her final group therapy session, that was exactly what a fellow patient feared most. Until that moment, she hadn’t given it a thought. Funny, because she felt both right now.
“Sixteen months ago,” she continued, “I signed myself into Rising Sun. It was a really intense time.”
“How long?”
“Seven weeks.”
Gabe’s brow furrowed as he considered her words. “You beat the addiction in less than the normal amount of time?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Rising Sun, huh? Isn’t that the place where movie stars go?”
Lillie knew how fortunate she’d been to have had Pete in her corner; his steady and generous contributions to the facility helped allow her to take advantage of the facility’s groundbreaking treatments.
“Actually, a friend pulled some strings. I did odd jobs there in exchange for room and board and sessions with the staff.”
“Cool.” Then, “Did you get any autographs while you were there?”
She’d met a major-league baseball player, a well-known country singer and half a dozen Broadway stars. But she felt protective of their anonymity.
“All that matters is that I’ve been out for a year now, working pretty much nonstop, and saving to repay...everyone.”
“Yeah, we tend to rack up some big-time debts, don’t we.”
Lillie bristled. She hadn’t minded being treated like every other resident at Rising Sun, so why did it bother her when this guy assumed he and she were alike?
“So is Baltimore home, or just a payback stop?”
“It’s both.”
Lillie had grown up in the big old house that had become her parents’ B and B. They didn’t know it yet, but Lillie had no intention of accepting a salary for helping out in the kitchen, serving meals and cleaning guest rooms. And although they’d try to talk her out of finding another job to fill the hours when they didn’t need her, that was exactly what she intended to do. Sending money to her siblings, the guys in the band and Jase’s mother had been easy. Earning back their trust wouldn’t be.
Jase? Jase would be another matter entirely.
She thought about what Jase had said that last night. If only there had been venom in his words, or if he’d ordered her to leave. Slammed a door. Something. If he had, she might have learned to live with it. Instead, when Jase found out that she’d stolen the band’s money for a handful of pills, he had looked...
After all this time, the only word she could come up with to describe it was wounded.
Lillie closed her eyes and remembered how she’d gone through the well-rehearsed list of apologies he’d heard far too many times before. Promises that nothing like this would ever happen again. Claims that this time, this time, she’d get help. For the longest time, he’d just stared, grim-faced and slump-shouldered, then quietly ground out, “The guys have bills to pay, too, you know. When are you gonna realize your needs aren’t more important than everybody else’s?”
“Say, Lillie,” Gabe said, breaking into her thoughts, “maybe you can help me make a tough decision. You know, since you understand things.”
“I stink in the advice department.”
He shrugged. “My older brother lives in Florida, too. It’s the main reason our mom moved down there. He owns a landscaping company. Offered me a job and a place to stay. You know, until I get on my feet.” Gabe paused. “But I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I’m godfather to his thirteen-year-old son, see, and not to toot my own horn, but the kid’s crazy about me.”
Lillie thought of her brother’s twins, who’d once lit up at the sight of her, and wondered if Sam had told the girls that their beloved aunt was a drug addict.
“You’re worried that if you spend too much time around your nephew, you’ll be a bad example?”
“Bingo.”
The bus merged with traffic on 28th Street, and Gabe shifted in his seat.
“Your brother told your nephew...everything?”
“That’s just it,” Gabe said. “I don’t know.”
He looked as distraught as she felt. Disappointing people was tough. She’d certainly learned that the hard way.
“Well, even if the boy knows, that’s not such a bad thing, is it? I mean, you made a mistake—”
“Lots of mistakes.”
“—but you made things right, and stayed clean for a long time. What better example can you set than that?”
Who are you trying to convince, Lill? Gabe? Or yourself?
“Maybe...” And then, “So how’d you get into, ah, trouble?” He held up his hand again. “If I’m poking my nose where it doesn’t belong, say the word.”
Lillie reminded herself that this was the perfect opportunity to practice the difficult “I was a mess and I’m sorry” speech before she had to deliver it yet again...to Jase, the one person she hadn’t repaid. Yet.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “A little over three years ago, my car was T-boned by a city bus.”
“Holy smokes. How badly were you hurt?”
Lillie stared at the jagged white scar that crossed the back of her right hand, and instinctively covered it with her left. “There were seven operations...” To repair her shattered left leg and arm, and the ribs that had punctured her lung. Even after all this time, nightmares about the impact still had the power to shake her from deep sleep.
“Then I spent a month in an inpatient rehab center—the physical therapy kind—followed by months more of outpatient work.”
“Holy smokes,” Gabe repeated. “That’s one brutal story.” He paused. “Did the transit system pay the medical bills?”
“Yes, they were very accommodating.”
“So the trouble started when your doctors put you on pain meds?”
“More like when they decided I didn’t need them anymore.”
“And?”
Admittedly, the pain had been excruciating, making it next to impossible to climb to her second-floor apartment—especially when hauling groceries—or to stand onstage for hour-long intervals or sleep more than an hour at a time.
“There were three doctors. My surgeon. My regular guy. And my shrink. Little did I know, they compared notes. And when they realized I was hooked on the meds, they cut me off.”
“Harsh,” Gabe said. “Wouldn’t it have been better to wean you slowly?”
“Maybe.” But given how totally dependent she’d grown, maybe not.
“So you had to find other ways to cut the pain...”
It should have been easy to admit. It wasn’t. And so Lillie said, “What about you?”
Gabe shrugged. “Nothing as dramatic or understandable as a car wreck. No, I was the stereotypical spoiled brat with too much time on his hands and too much money in his pockets. Got in with the wrong crowd—although at the time they sure didn’t seem like the wrong crowd—and the rest is history.”
It wasn’t unusual for recovering addicts to be tough on themselves. Unfortunately, the self-deprecating mindset, her counselors said, was responsible for more addicts relapsing than just about anything else.
“Still,” she reminded him, “your mom inspired you to get help.”
“She’s only half the reason. I watched a pal OD on crack.” He grimaced and his voice trailed off, a clear sign that he’d recalled a raw memory. “I got real serious about rehab after that.” He turned slightly. “So when you got off the prescription meds, what cut the pain?”
“Hydrocodone, mostly.”
“As in Watson-387?”
“That, and half a dozen other types of pills supplied by my go-to guy.” Although she hadn’t touched drugs or alcohol since entering rehab, it shamed Lillie to admit that she’d washed down hydro, norco, vic, and more—with dry gin—and paid for it with money taken from those who cared most about her. Her sister and her husband. Her brother and his wife. Her parents. Her best friend. The guys in the band.
It had been humiliating, facing each of them, stammering through clumsy apologies, voice quaking and hands shaking as she returned every dollar. Though she didn’t believe she’d earned their forgiveness, they’d been gracious, smiling as they told her to stay in touch and take care of herself. Had they meant it?
She’d saved the toughest encounter for last. Jase...
“Your friend,” Gabe began, “the one who hooked you up with the Rising Sun people...is he a boyfriend?”
That inspired a smile. “No, Pete owns a pub in the Bronx. We met when my agent booked me to sing with his house band. I was barely eighteen, and he looked out for me.”
“Like a big brother.”
“Exactly.” Pete was the first person she’d turned to after that last night with Jase, when it became clear that she’d gotten completely out of control.
“So—to quote my grandpa—you’re footloose and fancy-free?”
Lillie had no idea how to answer him. Jase likely wouldn’t want anything to do with her, other than to accept repayment of the money she’d taken. If that was the case, she’d deal with it, somehow... In all this time, she hadn’t entertained thoughts of starting a relationship with someone new. He’d been her first true love, and he’d probably be her last. In her mind and heart, she hadn’t yet earned the right to romance or happiness.
“This Pete guy, he’s got connections at Rising Sun because he’s a recovering addict?”
“Yes. They helped him kick his addictions, so when he inherited a lot of money, he donated a chunk to them. He’d been into the hard stuff. Heroin. Mescaline. You name it, Pete did it. And almost died when someone sold him a bad batch of H.”
“Yeah, I can see how that’d scare a dude straight.”
“That, and finding out he had a child.”
“Whoa.” Gabe nodded. “The whole set-a-good-example thing, like me.” He reached into his duffle bag and withdrew two bottles of water. After handing one to Lillie, he said, “So you’ve been clean for a year?”
“Fourteen months.” And sixteen days...
He unscrewed the cap, took several gulps. “You said you were on the road before this all happened?”
“Mmm-hmm. I was a singer. Hotel lounges, mostly, but now and then, my agent would book me with a band. I saw a lot of this country through bus windows.” Until Jase, when she’d been more than content to stand on the same stage, singing into the same mic, every night for nearly a year before—
“Play an instrument?”
“Guitar. Practically the only thing I owned that I didn’t sell for, well, you know.”
“Yeah, I do.” He picked at the bottle’s label. “I have an Ovation. Belonged to my grandfather. And like you, it’s one of a handful of things I held on to.”
“Mine is handcrafted. It’s a MacCubbin. It has a great sound.” Jase had scrimped to give it to her the Christmas before she left for Rising Sun. While living at the center—and ever since—she’d taken the instrument from its plush-lined case only to change the strings and buff the Brazilian rosewood to a fine sheen. The calluses on her fingertips had all but disappeared, because she couldn’t bear to hear the resonant tones that reminded her of the music she and Jase had made together.
“You going back to it now? Music, I mean?”
And think about the way she once shared a mic with Jase, creating perfect harmony?
“Absolutely not.”
“I get it. Too much temptation.”
Lillie had earned her keep at Pete’s, serving liquor of every description, and managed to stay away from it. And yet she said, “Something like that.”
Gabe yawned. “Well, I hope you won’t think I’m rude or anything, but I’m gonna try to catch a few z’s before our first stop.”
“Good idea. I might do the same.”
Moments later, listening to his soft, steady snores, Lillie closed her eyes. But she didn’t expect to sleep, not with all those newly awakened memories whirling in her mind.
She was surprised when the lurch of the bus startled her awake.
“Hey, thanks for keeping me company. It was great talking with you,” Gabe said, standing as she pulled her rolling suitcase from the overhead bin. “Maybe we can exchange numbers, do coffee if I ever get to Baltimore.”
He produced an old envelope and a ballpoint, and not knowing how to say not interested without hurting his feelings, she accepted both. As she wrote her first name, Lillie was tempted to change a digit or two in her cell number. But starting her new life on a lie, even one that small, didn’t seem like a good idea. So she handed back the pen and the envelope.
“Thanks,” she said, “but...”
Gabe took it and, he must’ve read her hesitation because he said, “I get it.” He shrugged. “Good luck to you.”
“And to you.”
She meant it, but if he ever did call, she’d find a reason to decline. She was in no position to start anything—not even a friendship—with anyone. Not until she had a better handle on who and what she had been...and what she’d done.
Besides, she wanted Jase, and no one else.
The admission gave her the strength to make a decision that had been a long time coming: she’d earn his trust again, no matter what it took.
* * *
“LILLIAN MARIE ROURKE, is that you?”
Only one person had ever called her by her full name. Heart drumming with joy—and dread—Lillie turned toward the robust voice.
“Dad! It’s so great to see you.”
“My, my, my,” her dad said, gripping her biceps, “just look at you. Roses in your cheeks and sparkles in those big brown eyes. You look...” Liam wrapped her in a fierce hug. “You look healthy.” He held her at arm’s length again. “Are you happy, Lill?”
She was glad to be home, with rehab behind her. Glad to have put in hard, fourteen-hour days at work afterward. Lillie had saved a few thousand dollars, every penny earmarked to repay the last of her debts. Until then, she wouldn’t truly be happy, so she didn’t answer him directly.
“Where’s Mom?”
“At the inn, planning your homecoming.” He winked. “Here,” her dad said, grabbing her suitcase, “let me take that. Can you believe I found a space right out front?”
Lillie followed him to the parking lot, tossed her backpack into the trunk beside the wheeled bag and climbed into the front seat. “You look wonderful,” she said. “Have you been dieting?”
“Dieting? Me?” He laughed. “No, but I’ve started a new project at the inn. Turns out it’s good exercise.”
“A project?”
Liam started the car. “An addition.”
“Ah, Mom’s kitchen bump-out.”
“And screened-in porch.”
“With a terrace beyond it?”
“And a gazebo. And an arbor. I tell you, Lill, she’s more excited than a bride on her wedding day. She has visions of hosting wedding parties. None of those eight-bridesmaids-and-groomsmen shindigs, mind you. Don’t know where we’d put ’em all in a place the size of the White Roof.”
Amelia had once dreamed of planning Lillie’s wedding. It was all she could talk about after Jase proposed. Back then, her mother had looked into the possibility of renting an arbor for them to exchange vows under. They’d trim it with white roses and baby’s breath. It would be a twilight ceremony, followed by a candlelight reception, complete with a string quartet, finger sandwiches and a four-tiered cake that Lillie would bake and decorate herself. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a completely impossible dream...
“You won’t believe what your mother has done to that little room on the first floor of the turret.”
“Let me guess... It’s where the brides and bridesmaids will get dressed...” Along with mothers of the brides...
“A-yup.”
Liam reached across the console and squeezed her hand. “It’s really good to have you home, kitten. We missed you.”
How long since he’d called her that? Not since... Lillie shook off the hard memory.
“I missed you guys, too.”
“You’re really okay, then?”
In other words, are you clean and sober, for real? “Yes, I’m fine. Fourteen months now.” And sixteen days.
“What about all those aches and pains from the accident? They’re gone?”
Translation: Pain meds had started her down the road to addiction; was it possible she’d make a U-turn at the first temptation? They’d warned her at rehab to expect varying levels of mistrust. So much for the “forewarned is forearmed” theory, she thought, doing her best to shake off the sting of reality.
“Oh, I have the occasional ache, but who doesn’t? Don’t worry, though, I’ve fought too hard to put that life behind me. Forever. Ever. Period. Even if more surgery is in my future. Besides, I worked in a pub for months and months and didn’t so much as sniff a cork. So I passed the supreme test.” Not to mention, she’d continue daily meetings with the new sponsor recommended by Rising Sun to stay on track, but no one needed to know that. “You’re looking at the new me.” She raised her right hand. “Honest.”
Why did she suddenly feel sixteen again, explaining that she’d never stay out past curfew, ever, ever again?
“We just want what’s best for you, is all. You had us real worried there for a while. But if you say you’re cured—”
She hated to burst his bubble, but Lillie had to be up-front with him. “I wish there was a cure, Dad, but the fact is, I’m an addict. I’ll always be an addict, even after I’m old and gray and rocking on Mom’s new screened porch. But you have my word, I’ll never use again.”
There. It was out. Sadly, she’d need to repeat the little speech to reaffirm it for her mother and siblings. And Jase, whom she’d yet to apologize to. Something told her that no matter how many times she said it, the reassurance wouldn’t get any easier.
Lillie squared her shoulders. “So how are things at the inn? Are you overrun with guests?”
“Actually, just one old couple this weekend. They’d booked last year. It’s an annual thing for them, anniversary celebration. Once they check out, we’ll shut down for the next couple of months, you know, so the contractors won’t disturb anybody.”
“Contractors? Since when do you let someone else wield a hammer in your house!”
“Since I won the lottery.”
“Wait. The lottery? You’re kidding!”
He held up his right hand. “As God is my witness. My ticket came in. After taxes, I raked in a cool half a million. More than enough to make all your mother’s dreams come true. And even though you didn’t cost me a dime, you’re one of those dreams, you know.”
They’d stayed in touch. Emails. Phone calls. FaceTime. Why was this the first she’d heard about something that big?
Stop thinking of yourself, Lill.
Her folks had worked hard all their lives and deserved a big break. She smiled.
He grabbed her hand again. “And now that you’re home and healthy? Well, that’s the cherry on life’s sundae. Speaking of desserts, that’s just one of the reasons she didn’t come with me to pick you up.” The car’s interior rattled as he let out a piercing, two-note whistle. “That woman has been cooking and baking for days. All your favorites.”
“That’s sweet of her. But I hope she isn’t ignoring her art because of me. She’s still painting, right?”
“Not as often as she’d like, but yes, she adds a canvas to her gallery now and then.”
“You mean she finally turned that old parlor room into a studio?”
“Yup. It looks good, I tell ya, and the guests agree. A few talked her into giving them lessons. They were happy with their paintings. You’d think that would inspire the cheapskates to buy one of hers, but no such luck.”
“But they will.”
“Right. There’s always hope, isn’t there.”
She took the comment to heart, because hope was about the only thing Lillie had left.
“You’re not still planning to get a second job, are you, kitten?”
The way Lillie saw it, she didn’t have a choice. Her parents had always been so generous and forgiving, and she didn’t want to take advantage. “I’ll look around, see what’s available.”
“Well, don’t be in a big rush. Give yourself time to adjust to being back. Hasn’t been all that long since you left the rehab center.”
It had been more than a year. The minute her counselor felt it was safe for her to leave, she’d gone to work for Pete, waiting tables, scheduling the staff and pitching in wherever else she was needed. It was the least she could do since he’d refused to accept rent for the tiny apartment above the pub. Between her salary—and Pete had been more than generous—and tips, Lillie had saved enough to repay everyone.
Almost everyone.
“How are Molly and Matt?”
“They’re good. Planning a world cruise once school is out.”
She pictured her little sister, a miniature version of herself, married to a guy who could easily be a Ravens linebacker. Since he and Molly couldn’t have children, they’d decided to save up and travel, instead.
“Wow. I can hardly wait to hear about this trip. And how are the Sams?” The fact that her brother Sam had married a woman named Samantha had, for years, been at the root of much good-natured teasing.
“They’re great, too. Got a new dog.”
“A mutt, like Beano?”
“No, she’s a Yorkie. Or so their vet says. Clem’s kinda yappy, but that’s to be expected of a pooch you could carry in your pocket.”
“They named her Clem?” Lillie laughed, picturing a tiny canine answering to the name. “Let me guess...it was Kassie’s idea.”
“She found her at the playground, shivering under the merry-go-round. Tucked the critter into her backpack, and the minute her mother got an eyeful of her, it was all over. They took pictures and tacked lost dog signs all over the place, put ads in the paper, posted on Facebook. But when no one claimed her...”
“No microchip?”
“Nope. But she has one now.”
That didn’t surprise Lillie one bit. Her sister-in-law, an in-home nurse, gave new meaning to the term caretaker. How she managed to work full-time, run a household, care for a cat and two dogs and keep track of the twins’ playdates and soccer practices, Lillie didn’t know.
“Do you mind stopping at the Flower Basket on the way home? I’d like to get Mom a little something.”
“Why? It isn’t her birthday.” He glanced at her again, and feigning panic, added, “Is it?”
“Relax. No. But Sunday is Mother’s Day. I got her a little something, but I know how much she loves orchids, so...” She shrugged. A bouquet couldn’t make up for years of heartache and disappointment, but it was a start.
“I have something in my suitcase for you, too,” she told Liam.
“Kitten, you didn’t have to do that. I’m just happy that you’re home and...”
His voice trailed off, so Lillie finished for him: “...home, and drug-free...”
He recoiled slightly at the phrase.
“You don’t have to tiptoe around my addiction, Dad. If you or Mom have questions, feel free to ask. And if you have things you’d like to say, by all means, say them. I can take it. And anyway, you deserve the truth.”
Nodding, he turned into the florist’s parking lot. “Good to know.” After rolling down the windows, Liam said, “Want me to come in with you?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Once inside the shop, Lillie perused glass shelves lined with floral arrangements, houseplants and orchids. She cupped the blossom of a purple pansy orchid and inhaled its delicate scent. “Is Mom still collecting orchids?”
He rolled his eyes. “Have you met your mother?”
Lillie removed the plant from its shelf and took it to the register. It surprised her when her dad slid a pale pink moth orchid onto the counter beside it.
“She’s not your mother,” Lillie teased.
He shrugged. “True, but she’s a good egg. And gave me some of the best kids on the planet. So why not.”
“You’re a big softie, just one of a thousand reasons I love you.”
Once outside, they gently placed the plants onto the floor of the back seat. After they were seated in the front, Liam said, “Did you mean it that Mom and I are free to ask questions?”
“Anything.”
“Okay. Same goes for you, you know.”
“I’ve always been able to talk to you.”
“Not always.”
Her therapist had warned her that from time to time, a comment like that would sting. The woman had recited a list of platitudes intended to help her cope when it happened: Consider the source. Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. You got through rehab; you’ll get through this. Lillie’s least favorite cliché? Don’t try to go around the mountain; make it your home.
During those excruciating months following the accident, Lillie had worked hard to spare her family and Jase the truth about her condition. Why worry them about things they couldn’t control, like her never-ending pain? For the same reason, she’d kept her addiction a secret, too. If she could point to a specific time or event that made them see through her ruse, Lillie might have prevented the humiliating intervention. “You’re not fooling anyone,” they’d said. “Get help, or else.”
Now, she said, “I know, Dad, but that was the old me. This me is very up-front about things.” A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “You’ll probably get sick and tired of hearing me ’fess up all over the place!”
Liam didn’t respond. Instead, he exhaled a long sigh. “You still mad at me for getting that court order?”
When he realized how quickly she was going through the insurance settlement from her accident, Liam had seen a lawyer to gain control of her money. She’d fought him at every turn, because his actions would put a stop to her street drugs. He’d won, and she’d despised him for it. In hindsight, Lillie felt nothing but gratitude.
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me at first. But time, and sobriety, helped me see that if you hadn’t done it, I would only have wasted every dime. So no, I’m not mad. In fact, I’m relieved that you did it. You quite literally saved my life.”
Another deep sigh, and then, “You don’t know how pleased I am to hear that. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. But that’s all history now, thank God, and I’m glad we got it out of the way before we reached the inn.” He squeezed her hand. “I can have things reversed now, if you want me to.”
Lillie believed she’d kicked the habit for good. But she’d heard too many horror stories of people who assumed the same thing, only to fall back into old habits.
“Let’s just leave things as they are for now,” she said. “I’ve paid everyone back, except for you and Mom and...” And Jase. “And it isn’t like I need the money for a world cruise or anything.”
That, at least, produced a genuine laugh.
“So, how long before you’ll call him?” her dad asked.
Lillie had to give him credit. He’d heard that little hesitation in her voice and knew exactly what it meant.
“I don’t know.” Of all the confrontations, that one scared her most.
“The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.”
“He doesn’t know I’m back, so there’s no rush.”
The look on her dad’s face told her otherwise.
“But how could he know? I didn’t know myself until a week ago, when I made the plans and called you guys.”
“He... Jase sort of stayed in touch.”
“Sort of?”
“Every time he calls or stops by, he says it’s just because he wants to make sure we’re okay. But we weren’t born yesterday. We know he only wants a Lillie update. He’s dating someone. This one seems nice enough.”
This one? There had been others? Of course he wouldn’t have put his life on hold, waiting for her to come back...
“You...you met them...these women Jase dated?”
“Not exactly. Ran into him at the movies once, at a restaurant another time. And there were a couple of chance meetings at the ice cream stand. I’ll give him this: he sure knows how to pick the purty ones!” Liam chuckled. “No surprise there, when he started out with a beauty like you.”
Again, her father cut loose with the ear-piercing whistle. Her heart ached at the thought of Jase with someone else, but she had only herself to blame. If she hadn’t single-handedly destroyed their relationship, they’d be married, might even have a child by now. “Some of the people you’ve hurt will move on,” the rehab psychologists had said. “You need to let them. Wish them well, and do the same, yourself.”
Easier said than done, Lillie thought.
“Well, great.” He didn’t know it, but Jase had spared her the challenge of working hard to earn back his trust. “I’m happy for him.”
“You’re happy for him? Really?”
“Don’t sound so shocked, Dad. Jase is a good man, and deserves the best that life has to give.” And God knows that isn’t me.
“I give it another month,” her dad said. “Two, tops.”
“Why? I thought you said she seemed nice.”
“Oh, she’s all right, if you’re into leggy blondes. It’s just that this thing Jase has going with—Whitney’s her name—let’s just say she’s all wrong for him. You know your mother’s talent for reading people? Well, she says it’s healthy for Jase to sow some wild oats before he finally settles down. And I agree with her.”
A twinge of guilt shot through her, because it didn’t bother her one bit, hearing that this...this Whitney was all wrong for Jase. If you had an ounce of decency in you, you’d want him to be happy.
“What do you mean, she’s all wrong for him?”
Liam shrugged. “She isn’t you.” He turned into the inn’s drive. “So of course it won’t last.”
Another eddy of guilt swirled through her. And right behind it, a glimmer of hope.
Because oh, how she wanted her dad to be right!
CHAPTER TWO (#ub1a164b8-3279-57e1-8347-413af383bc39)
“IT’S SO SWEET of you to do this for me, Jason.” Whitney giggled. “You’ve been so sweet about chauffeuring me around that I don’t feel the slightest bit helpless.”
“Helpless? You?” Jase laughed. Somehow, she’d managed to keep her sweet and sensitive side intact, even while working with the associates and partners at a high-powered law office. Everyone in his life knew how much he disliked being called Jason, yet Whitney had never referred to him any other way.
“You really don’t mind spending your entire day helping me run errands?”
She’d asked, and given him ample opportunity to say no. Wouldn’t be right to hold her feet over the fire now, just because boredom had him counting all the things he could be doing instead.
“I know what it’s like when your car is in the shop.” Not exactly an answer to her question, but it beat hurting her feelings with the truth.
“I can’t believe all this traffic! It’s three in the afternoon. On a Thursday. Why aren’t people at work?”
“We aren’t,” Jase said, chuckling.
“No. No we aren’t, are we. And I’m one hundred percent grateful that you took the day off, just for me!”
Her good-natured disposition was refreshing, especially compared with other women he’d dated: the librarian, who couldn’t talk about anything but books; the boutique owner, who tried—and failed—to dress him like a Gatsby character; the PE teacher who ate nothing but nuts and grains...and expected him to follow suit; and the pièce de résistance, the cellist with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, who thought he’d appreciate sitting in her living room...while she practiced her portion of Johann Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major.”
“It’ll be so nice, having my watch back again.”
Whitney giggled, a pleasant enough sound, but it didn’t begin to compare with Lillie’s musical laughter. Jase flinched inwardly. It had been months since he’d had a positive thought about Lillie. Better clear your head, fool...
“I rarely wear mine anymore,” he said, steering into the right lane.
“I must seem like a dinosaur. Everyone but me uses their cell phones these days.”
“Yeah, but when you want to know what time it is, all you have to do is glance at your wrist. The rest of us have to find our phones.” Whitney was one of the most pulled-together women he’d had the pleasure of knowing. So why did she feel the need to defend herself all the time?
Because you’re doing something to make her feel that way. What, he couldn’t say.
“At least this stop kills two birds with one stone.” Whitney unbuckled her seat belt. “You know, since the Flower Basket is right next door to St. John’s Jewelers.”
In the rearview mirror, he saw a red SUV. He’d parked beside it enough times to recognize it as Lillie’s dad’s. Liam had probably decided to grab a bouquet for Amelia as an early Mother’s Day gift. Jase backed into a space directly across from the shop’s entrance as Whitney said, “I can’t decide whether to get Patsy a green plant or a spray of roses.”
Her best friend, who’d been at Johns Hopkins for nearly a week.
“I’m sure Patsy will be happy with either.”
And that was when he noticed someone in Liam’s passenger seat.
Not just someone.
Lillie.
His heart beat a little harder.
“I’m thinking a plant—” Whitney continued, one hand on the door lever “—so she can take it home with her. Which, unless she spikes a fever or something, should be in a day or two.”
“Yeah. Mmm-hmm. Right,” he muttered, watching as father and daughter exited the car.
The shop was cute—as flower shops went—and small. No way could he avoid running into Lillie in there. Or introducing her to Whitney. She’d been gone more than a year, no note, no call, not even a text message. For all he knew, she’d moved on, too. So why did he dread seeing her after all this time? And why was his heart beating double-time now?
“Wouldn’t it be better to take care of your watch battery first? You know, so the plant won’t sit in the hot car and, uh, wilt?”
That giggle again. And then Whitney placed her hand atop his on the gearshift. “It’s May, Jason, and seventy degrees, not ninety.”
“Yeah, but the sun is beating down like it thinks it’s August. Only takes ten minutes for the truck’s interior to reach one hundred degrees on a day like this.”
She wasn’t buying it. If he didn’t do something quick, he’d find himself in the Flower Basket, introducing his could-be fiancée to his ex-fiancée.
Whitney made a habit of putting her cell phone into his console’s cup holder, and he used it to his advantage. In one swift move, he backhanded it to the floor.
“Aw, man, sorry, Whit.”
She frowned—or as close to a frown as the always-pleasant Whitney got—and leaning forward, said, “No harm done, Jason. The floor is carpeted.”
For safe measure, he reached for it, too. But instead of retrieving it, he batted it under the passenger seat.
“Aw, man. I’m such a klutz!”
While she bent down, patting the floor mat in search of her phone, Jase looked up...
...and saw Lillie.
And his heart beat like a parade drum.
Her long auburn waves were chin-length now, and in place of her customary jeans, T-shirt and sneakers, she’d worn a gauzy calf-length skirt that billowed with every puff of the wind. She had on matching yellow shoes that looked like ballet slippers and a puffy-sleeved blouse with ruffles at the wrists. She still walked like a woman who knew where she was going, head up and arms swinging slightly. Marilyn Monroe–style sunglasses hid big eyes that couldn’t decide if they were brown or green, and if he knew Lillie, she’d applied a hint of shadow and just enough mascara to showcase those long lashes.
“There,” Whitney announced, “got it. Finally!”
He half ran to her side of the pickup and opened the passenger door. “First stop, jewelry store?” Taking her hand, he helped her to the pavement.
Grinning, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “All right, Jason, whatever you think best.”
With any luck, Lillie hadn’t seen the kiss.
With a little more luck, he’d figure out where that crazy thought had come from. Lillie was a part of his past. It had taken a while, but his life was on track again, and Jase aimed to keep it that way.
“Thank you,” Whitney said.
“For what?”
“For helping me figure out what to get you for your birthday.” She shouldered her purse and smiled up at him.
It took a conscious effort not to look into the flower shop, where by now Lillie and her dad were searching out just the right gift for Amelia.
“My birthday isn’t until July.”
“Oh, I’m not waiting that long. This old buggy of yours needs running boards. I’m five foot six, and I feel so short getting in and out of it.”
“Ah. So my birthday present is really for you,” he teased.
Lashes fluttering, Whitney said, “Can I help it if that’s the way you choose to look at it?”
He followed her into the shop and breathed a sigh of relief when she marched straight up to the counter. Maybe he could talk Whitney into going to the florist in the Columbia Mall, too. That could work, especially if he suggested they grab a bite to eat while they were there.
His relief was short-lived, thanks to the sudden nerve-racking thought that Liam might want to buy jewelry for Amelia, to go along with the flowers...and Lillie might go into the jewelry story with him.
More determined than ever to talk Whitney into going straight to the mall, he leaned into the display case behind him. Whitney was asking for a new watch battery. She didn’t use her hands, like Lillie always had. Once, he’d asked if some Italian blood coursed through the Rourke clan. She’d responded with a thick-brogued, “Yer ears must be on upside down, Jase Yeager! M’bloodline is pure green, I tell you!” And he’d grasped her wrists, pulled her close and kissed—
“What are you smiling about?” Whitney asked.
Standing up straight, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Told you it’d take longer than ten minutes to change your battery.”
“The woman isn’t sure it is the battery.” She glanced toward the doorway that led to the repair shop. “I hope they’re wrong. My grandparents gave it to me when I graduated from the U of M. I’d hate to think it’s irreparable.”
The University of Maryland was his alma mater, too. He’d started on a degree in communications. His dad had pointed out that it would limit his choices in the job market, though, and as usual, the old man had been right. The BA in business had been instrumental in helping him organize and grow his mother’s company.
“I’m sure they can fix it.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
Standing close beside him, she rested her hip against his as she continued staring at the narrow doorway, arms and ankles crossed, just like his. Whitney had always been accommodating. No matter what he suggested, from restaurants to movies, from ballgames to staying home and watching old movies, she’d been agreeable. She was pretty. Hardworking and smart. He liked her. But...why couldn’t he feel something more for her, something deeper?
She took his hand and aimed his forefinger at a bracelet, glittering under the bright overhead lights.
“Isn’t that just gorgeous!”
She’d been hinting that their relationship had passed from “just dating” to serious. But not nearly serious enough for diamonds, he thought.
Jase grinned at her. “I suppose...if you’re into glitz and glam.”
She moved farther down the display case, pointing out earrings, pendants and anklets that matched the bracelet. When she maneuvered toward the rings, Jase pretended to scratch an itch beside his nose as an excuse to let go of her hand, because she’d zeroed in on a square-cut solitaire, nearly identical to the one in his sock drawer. The one he’d given Lillie shortly after her release from physical therapy. The one she’d returned after he called her on the carpet for taking the guys’ money.
Whitney continued examining the glass cases until she reached the presentation of men’s watches. “This one is nice, isn’t it?”
He nodded, though he’d barely seen it. Jase was too busy remembering the night he gave the ring to Lillie...the week after her release from the PT facility and two weeks before her twenty-sixth birthday. They’d just finished a close-harmony rendition of an Eagles tune when he asked the audience to share in some good news...and held up the tiny blue velvet box.
Lillie’s big eyes had grown round and wide as she stood, grinning and blinking under the spotlight. Then she’d grabbed the mic and faced the band. “I think he’s trying to tell us we’re doing ‘Blue Velvet’ next.”
Jase smiled at the memory.
Whitney rapped on the glass counter. “Jason? Would you ever wear a man’s bracelet, like this one?”
“Nah,” he managed, his mind still fogged by the fond memory...
Whistles and applause had filled Three-Eyed Joe’s pub. “Quit beatin’ around the bush,” the Muzikalees’ drummer said into his mic.
“Ned’s right,” Spence agreed, playing a run on his guitar. “Pop the question why don’t you, so we can get back to work!”
“What about a necklace?” Whitney wanted to know.
“Nah,” he repeated, “I’m not much into trinkets.” He tried to focus on the thick gold chain, but what he saw was Lillie, opening the little box, smiling past glittering tears as she handed him the ring and waited for him to put it on her finger.
“Yes,” she’d said matter-of-factly. Then, more emphatically, “Yes.” And standing on tiptoe, she’d nearly knocked him over with a powerful Lillie hug.
When he kissed her, a patron yelled, “Atta boy, Jase! Atta boy!” And he’d barely heard the applause because—
“Have you ever considered wearing an earring?”
Jase shook his head, hoping to rid himself of those memories.
“Well? Would you?”
“Me? A pierced ear? Like a pirate?” He forced a laugh. “Have you met me?”
Whitney laughed, too, then exhaled a feminine groan. “You are the most difficult man to buy a gift for!”
“You know I’m not big on gifts.” He pulled her into a light hug. “Besides, a little bird told me I’m getting running boards this year.”
She blushed prettily and would have kissed him if the clerk hadn’t said “Ms. Hendricks?”
Whitney went to the counter, and while she and the jeweler discussed the watch, Jase faced Route 40. Cars, trucks and motorcycles bulleted past. Then he noticed that his passenger window was down. Not partway, but all the way. Whitney must have accidentally hit the button while searching for her phone. “Payback,” he murmured, and stepped up beside her.
“I left the truck window open and it looks like rain. Be right back,” he told her. And without waiting for a reply, Jase palmed his keys and made his way to the parking lot...
...and crashed into Lillie, crushing a long-stemmed flower between them.
“Jase?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He felt like an idiot when he replied, “Lillie...”
“Dad and I were just picking up a few things for Mom.”
Liam, standing beside her, said, “Good to see you, son. What brings you all the way to Ellicott City?”
He transferred the keys from his right hand to his left and resisted the urge to glance into the jewelry store. “Just...just running errands. Sunday’s Mother’s Day...”
Lillie smiled as Liam chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, showing off his bouquet, “we heard.”
Jase stepped back, asking Lillie how badly he’d crushed her purchase.
She gave the orchid a quick once-over. “It’s fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m happy to go right back in there and buy a replace—”
Lillie silenced him with a tiny smile. “Really. Orchids are tougher than they look, kinda like the daisies Dad bought...” She winked at her father. “Because he thinks they’re Mom’s favorites.”
While Liam chuckled, Jase remembered that once, they’d been Lillie’s favorites. “They’re tough,” she’d say, “like me.” The proof could be found on anything that would hold ink: envelopes, napkins, cash register receipts... Given enough time, the thing would be covered with doodles of daisies, jagged-edged leaves and curlicue vines swirling between the blossoms. But that had been before the accident.
Get it together, dude. “When did you get home?”
“I just picked her up at the Greyhound station. My girl, here, wanted to stop on the way home. Get a little something for her mom.”
“Ellicott City is hardly on the way home to Fells Point...”
“I know,” Lillie said, “but this place is owned by the parents of a girl I graduated with. Anyway, you know I like shopping at mom-and-pop stores when I can. Besides, no telling when I’ll get a chance to go shopping, and I wanted to bring something nice to Mom. Dad says she’s been cooking and baking for days to welcome me home, so...”
She’d never been one to ramble, not even when nervous, but Jase supposed a lot of things about her had changed in the year she’d been gone.
“Well, I think the flower is real nice. I’ll bet your mom will think so, too.”
She’d focused on something over his left shoulder, and Jase turned just as Whitney closed the distance between them.
“Well, it’s all fixed,” she announced, holding up a tiny black bag. Linking her arm through his, she pressed close to his side. “Turns out it was just the battery after all. You were right. I got myself all worried over nothing.”
She fixed her gaze on Liam. “Mr. Rourke, right?”
Lillie’s dad extended a hand. “Good to see you again, Whitney. And please, call me Liam.” He drew Lillie into a sideways hug. “I don’t think you’ve met my daughter. Lillie, this is Whitney.”
Jase felt Whitney stiffen, and from the corner of his eye saw the slight lift of her chin.
“Lillie? The Lillie?”
Had Whitney intended to make it sound as though she knew all the gory details of Lillie’s recent past? Because nothing could be further from the truth. Each time Whitney had pressed for information about former relationships, Jase steered the conversation in a different direction. Not to protect her so much as to spare himself the memories. Except once, early in their relationship, when she’d found a framed photo in his desk drawer. “You loved her a lot didn’t you?” Whitney had asked, staring at it. When he didn’t respond, she’d added, “So? What’s her name?” Somehow, he managed to grind out “Lillie.” Things got real quiet between them for the rest of that evening. But thankfully, the subject never came up again.
A fly buzzed by his head, rousing him from the memory.
“Yes,” he said, “this is Lillie. We go way back.” The image of the first time he saw her flashed in his mind. As manager of Three-Eyed Joe’s and leader of the Muzikalees, he’d hired her on a probationary basis, thinking a girl singer would encourage a less rowdy crowd. From the instant she’d walked into the pub, Lillie had a positive impact on the place. The guys in the band quit cussing. People on the dance floor didn’t bring their drinks with them. The bartenders and waitresses picked up on her sweet, upbeat demeanor, and served customers, even the surly ones, with smiles.
“Well, it’s been lovely seeing you again, Liam, and meeting you, Lillie,” Whitney said, “but Jason and I have a few more errands to run before we change for dinner at Sabatino’s.”
He’d all but forgotten their dinner plans. But the way she’d put it made it sound as if they were living together. And they most definitely were not. Lillie’s eyes widened, exactly as they had when she pressed the engagement ring into his palm that night. Despite their history, he didn’t like seeing her hurt.
“Sabatino’s, eh?” Liam said. “That’s one of our favorite restaurants in Little Italy.”
Lillie, Jase noted, said nothing. Their favorite restaurant had always been Chiaparelli’s, because they made great gnocchi.
“Well, good seeing you two,” he said, shaking Liam’s hand. To Lillie, he said, “See you around, kiddo.”
If that look on her face was any indicator, Lillie was thinking, Not if I have anything to say about it!
“Does Dad have your contact information?”
Jase decided that mind reading wasn’t among his hidden talents.
“Sure do,” Liam said as Whitney pressed closer to Jase’s side. “Why?”
When Lillie’s big dark eyes locked on his, Jase had to remind himself to breathe. There had been a time when a look like that would have inspired him to—
“Good. I’ll be in touch,” she told him. “Is there a best time to call?”
“No, no, anytime’s fine.”
And with that, he let Whitney turn him around. Let her lead him across the parking lot, let her take his keys. The quiet beep indicated the doors were unlocked, effectively snapping him out of his reverie. If she offered to drive, well, he’d just have to draw the line at that.
She sat quietly for a few minutes, then said, “She’s even prettier in person.”
As he merged with traffic on Route 40, he silently agreed.
“How old is she?”
The question took him by surprise. “I dunno, twenty-seven, twenty-eight?”
“I should ask her what skincare products she uses. She doesn’t look a day over twenty.”
Should’ve seen her the night she left, Jase thought. By then, months of abusing her body with drugs and booze had taken a toll, painting dark circles beneath her eyes, turning her normally pink-cheeked, freckled face pale, dulling her once bright eyes. She’d lost some hair, too, and had taken to wearing knit hats and scarves, even in the summertime. And the tremors... She’d needed two hands to return the ring.
“Why do you suppose she wants to call you?”
To talk about a repayment plan? “We didn’t exactly part on a good note. I expect she wants to correct that. You know, for closure?”
He braked for a traffic light. Two more blocks, and they’d turn onto her street so she could dress up for the restaurant. Maybe his luck would continue, and she’d change her mind about eating out...
“When she calls, will she want to meet in person? To discuss...closure or whatever?”
“Guess we’ll have to wait until she calls to find out. If she calls.”
“If?”
Oh, she’d call, all right. And unless he was mistaken, it would be to discuss the money she owed him. In his mind, the balance was zero. He’d written it off ages ago. But...
“Anything’s possible,” he told Whitney, quickly adding, “Can we change the subject, please?”
When he pulled into her driveway, she sat, still and silent, staring through the windshield. It seemed like a full ten minutes before she said, “Would you mind very much if we skipped Sabatino’s tonight?”
“Why?” As if you don’t know.
She unbuckled her seat belt. “It’s just... This has been a long week. I just need a good night’s sleep.”
He could have pointed out that it was only Thursday. That neither of them had worked today. But since she’d said it all without looking in his direction...
Jase felt like a heel. She was so uncomfortable she couldn’t even make eye contact. He needed to take care from here on out. He didn’t want to hurt her.
“I didn’t mean for that to come out all mean and grouchy.”
The look she gave him said “Oh, really.” But she said, “Can you come in for a few minutes?”
He wanted to say no. That he was tired, too. What if that brief encounter with Lillie had made her add two and two...and come up with three’s a crowd?
“Sure,” he said, turning off the truck, taking his time while removing the keys from the ignition. “I’d like that.”
“Leave the front door open,” she said as he stepped into the foyer. “It’s a gorgeous day, and the breeze will feel good.”
The gray sky and the scent of impending rain didn’t agree.
Whitney poured two glasses of iced tea and sat at the kitchen table. The instant he was situated, she said, “I guess that was really hard. Seeing her after all this time, I mean.”
“Not really.”
“You can be honest with me, Jason. No need to tiptoe around my feelings. I know that what you two had is over.”
Jason. Again. Would she ever figure out how he felt about that?
“So you’re okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
She looked at him as though he’d grown a big hairy mole in the middle of his forehead.
“From what I’ve gathered, the breakup wasn’t easy on you.”
Jase had intentionally avoided talking about Lillie, as much to spare his feelings as hers. Because yes, the split had been difficult, for him and for Lillie.
“Who told you that?” he wanted to know.
“Your mom. And Dora.”
He found it hard to believe his mother would bring the subject up. And even though Whitney worked at the same firm as his brother, his sister-in-law, too. He suspected Dora hadn’t talked about it either. But why would Whitney make that up?
He swallowed a gulp of the tea. Concentrated on sounding cool and calm and completely in control. “How’d Lillie’s name come up?”
Head tilted toward the ceiling and eyes closed, she groaned. “We... It just did, okay? Dora and Drew and I were having lunch one day. Drew admitted he was frustrated at how long it’s taking to make partner, said the board’s lack of commitment to the associates was getting on his last nerve. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, the conversation went from work, to family loyalty, to Drew and Dora’s upcoming anniversary. And all of a sudden, Drew left the room.”
Jase pretended not to have heard the family loyalty thing. “Seven years this summer.” He was half joking when he added, “Drew isn’t worried about the seven-year itch, I hope.”
“No, no. At least, I don’t think so. While we were alone, Dora told me that your mom keeps asking why she and Drew hadn’t started a family yet. Dora said she’d grown super tired of answering the question. She said—and I quote—‘I told her that my name isn’t Lillie. Living the white-picket-fence life isn’t for me.’ I asked how your mother reacted. Dora said, ‘Same as always. Colette just shrugged it off, said everything happens for a reason, and how lucky Jase was that Lillie’s problems prevented the picket-fence life.’”
Whitney sipped her tea. “I think maybe your mother was right.”
“Really.” Jase stiffened. He didn’t like being the focus of a conversation like that. Didn’t like the way Whitney appeared to enjoy his mother’s feelings toward Lillie either.
“It’s easy to see why she feels that way. She probably knows how tough it would have been for you, raising a child alone, while Lillie was off...well, you know...”
Jase did his best to reel in the resentment broiling in his gut. Whitney had no right, making assumptions about her! Yeah, he did know Lillie. Probably better than she knew herself. If they had married and had a baby before the accident, she never would have grown dependent on drugs, no matter how bad the pain got. Devotion to her child would have assured it. It hurt more than he cared to admit that her devotion to him hadn’t been enough to keep Lillie from—
“When I saw you with her today,” Whitney said, picking at her burlap place mat before turning her gaze to him, “I realized I needed to let you know...I’d never hurt you that way. Never.” Jase bristled slightly under her intense scrutiny. Was she gearing up to say she loved him? He hoped not. They’d been seeing each other for nearly three months, and while he cared for Whitney, he wasn’t anywhere ready to say those words.
Jase blanketed her hands with his own. “You look really pretty today. Did I tell you that?”
A myriad of emotions flickered across her face. Confusion. Disappointment. Hurt. To her credit, Whitney got hold of herself quickly.
“Only four or five times,” she said. “But what girl doesn’t like hearing her guy thinks she looks good!”
Lillie didn’t. She’d waved off every word of praise that came her way, whether about her good looks or her vocal and artistic talents. “I can’t take credit for any of that,” she’d say. “It’s built into my DNA. My parents and grandparents should be hearing the compliments, not me!”
“You sure you don’t want to go to Sabatino’s? We still have the reservation.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, echoing his earlier words. “I’d like that.”
He squeezed her hands, then let go as she stood.
“Just give me a few minutes to freshen up.”
While she was gone, he walked from the kitchen to the living room, where she’d arranged sleek, modern furnishings on a white shag rug. Tall narrow black figurines stood on the marble mantel, and heavy swirled-glass bowls decorated the teak coffee table. He could see storm clouds through the sheer white curtains.
“You about ready, Whit? Looks like we’re in for some rain...”
“Just two more minutes, hon,” he heard her say from the bathroom doorway.
Hon. If anyone else had said it, Jase would have chalked it up to a “Baltimore-ism.” But Whitney had never been one to imitate others.
Unlike Lillie, who loved colloquialisms and spouted them every chance she got.
He caught himself smiling, and didn’t like it one bit. Jase ground a fist into a palm. He’d worked hard to get her out of his system, to get on with life, without her. And he’d succeeded. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her destroy that!
* * *
“IT’S ABOUT TIME you got here.” Jase’s sister-in-law leaned in and lowered her voice. “Your mom is looking a mite peaked today.”
“Is that right.” He hadn’t planned on stopping by to visit his mother this evening, so her snappish comment didn’t make sense. “She looked fine when I was here the day before yesterday.”
Dora huffed. “Well, she doesn’t look fine now. She’s in her office.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go. I’ll bring you both some iced tea.”
“Okay, thanks. That sounds great.” He paused in the kitchen doorway. “Where’s Drew?”
Dora rolled her eyes. “Working. Naturally.”
Perhaps that explained her surly mood. “You and that brother of mine put in way too many hours.” He would have added, It’s probably a good thing that you two don’t have kids, but his dad had made that mistake once, years back, and immediately regretted it. “He’s joining us for supper though, right?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“He’s nuts if he doesn’t show up. Something smells delicious.”
“Stuffed shells. My grandmother’s recipe.”
“Now I’m glad my dinner date was canceled.”
“Oh? Trouble in paradise, huh?”
In place of an answer, Jase raised his eyebrows.
“Let me be more precise. Are you and Whitney fighting?”
“No.” Times like these, he didn’t need to remind himself that Dora was a lawyer. “Why do you ask?”
“You look a little down.”
“It’s been a long, weird day.” Weird, and exhausting. The on-then-off-then-on-again restaurant date had killed his appetite, and he’d been relieved when Whitney called it off...again. When she’d come out of the bathroom, the bad weather seemed to have shifted her mood again, and she’d asked for a raincheck.
Dora shrugged. “This is out of line, so I’ll apologize ahead of time for saying, right up front, that I’ll never understand what you see in her.”
Jase stepped back into the kitchen.
“She seems nice enough, and there’s no denying she’s smart. Everyone at the firm thinks so. But I get the feeling you’re not very comfortable with her. Whenever she’s around, you seem like you’re walking on eggshells.”
Women’s intuition? Or more proof that she was a good attorney? Jase had always worked hard to keep things like that to himself.
Dora held up a hand and continued with, “I know you didn’t ask, but if you had, I’d say you just don’t seem happy with her. Not like you were with Lillie, anyway. I loved watching you two together, the way you’d go back and forth, cracking jokes, laughing, so at ease with one another.”
Jase had never put much stock in metaphysical stuff, but it sure did seem like the universe was conspiring against him today. First, he’d run into Lillie and her dad. Then, Whitney got all bent out of shape over the meeting. And now, here was Dora, telling him that he’d seemed more content with Lillie than with Whitney. Had she forgotten everything Lillie had put him through, everything she’d cost him? Did she think he’d forgotten?
Dora pressed a tumbler against the ice dispenser. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said as cubes clinked into the glass. “You think I’ve forgotten everything that happened after her accident. To be more precise, everything she did after the accident.” She filled a second glass with ice and all but slammed it onto the counter. “You know we were friends. I remember how quickly she went downhill. Was I hurt by it? Of course. Was I disappointed in her? You bet! But addiction is a sickness, Jase. If her doctors hadn’t overprescribed those meds in the first place, then cut her off just like that...” She snapped her fingers. “Suffice it to say we could all have been there for her. We were supposed to love and support her.”
He had loved Lillie, more than he’d loved any woman before or since. Loved her still, despite his best efforts to smother it. As for being supportive, how many chances was he supposed to give her?
“Look, Dora, I know you mean well, but trust me, there were a lot of things you didn’t see or hear, things I’ve never talked about.” Like the times Lillie had overdosed, and if he hadn’t been around to rush her to the ER...
He knuckled his eyes, hoping to rub away the painful images. “Anyway, I appreciate your concern, but you can relax. Whitney and I aren’t fighting.”
She stared at him for a few seconds before saying, “That’s good, because you’re the closest thing I have to a brother, and I want you to be happy.”
“I have everything a guy could want—good job as CEO of a thriving company, nice condo, enough money to keep the wolf from the door, loving family, gorgeous, successful girlfriend—who just hinted that she loves me, for your information—so why on earth wouldn’t I be happy.”
“Oh, Jase...she did?”
Unless he’d lost all people-reading skills, Dora looked pained.
“How did you handle that?”
“If she actually says it, well, I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Months ago, he’d decided to give up on dating. He’d had it with well-intentioned friends trying to set him up with the perfect woman, one who’d help him get over Lillie. And then, at one of Drew and Dora’s shindigs, he’d met Whitney. She wasn’t perfect, but then, neither was he. Besides, perfection was overrated. A satisfying existence could be just as fulfilling as a happy one, right? And he sure didn’t appreciate the cosmos, or whatever it was, interfering with his almost perfect life.
Jase picked up the glasses, and as he turned to leave the kitchen, he grazed Dora’s cheek with a brotherly kiss.
“Thanks for caring, sis. And just so you know, I love you, too.”
He could still see her tiny grin as he rounded the corner into his mother’s office.
Colette was lounging in her favorite chair—a flowery, overstuffed thing that was wide enough to accommodate a linebacker—a romance novel in her lap. She’d kicked off her shoes and propped both stockinged feet on the matching ottoman.
“You’re early,” she said, glancing up from her book.
“Early? You didn’t even know I was coming over tonight.” He put the iced tea glasses on coasters, then sat on the end of the sofa nearest her chair.
She used her thumb to mark her place in the paperback. “I thought maybe since that little set-to with Whitney caused you to miss dinner at Sabatino’s...”
“Set-to?” He hadn’t seen it that way at all. But wait... “How’d you hear about that? I only left her place half an hour ago.”
She fluffed chin-length white hair. “Dora got a phone call not long after she got here. Guess who it was.”
Yet again, he was reminded of the Drew-Dora-Whitney connection down at the law office.
“She’s such a lovely young woman. So soft-spoken and ladylike. She’ll make someone a wonderful wife, and be a great mother someday. That someone could be you...if you don’t blow it, pining over Lillie. That girl put you through the wringer.”
Once upon a time, his mom had cared for Lillie as if she’d been one of her own, often making excuses for her erratic behavior. Until she caught Lillie slipping a hundred dollars from her wallet. Colette had been furious when she’d told him about it. “Not because I need the money,” she’d said, “but because Lillie has made fools of all of us.” She’d gone on to say that unless the craziness with the drugs stopped, Lillie would break his heart. Deep down, he’d known his mother was right but had held out for a miracle. And a week later...
Jase pressed fingertips together, and like a spider doing pushups on a mirror, flexed and relaxed, flexed and relaxed his hands. He knew his mom had received a check a month or so ago. Lillie hadn’t succeeded in getting money from Colette, and yet she’d paid back every dollar she’d almost stolen. In private moments, Jase admitted the sincere words in the note Lillie had included for Colette had touched him, too.
“So how are you feeling, Mom?”
Blue eyes narrowed to mere slits, and her left brow rose high on her forehead. It was the look she’d branded him and Drew with as boys, when she suspected they’d broken a household item or violated a rule.
“Why do you ask? What did Dora tell you?”
“Only that you looked a little pale today.”
“I love her to pieces, but that girl can be such a fussbudget.”
Jase grinned. “I have to admit, it’s hard to believe that just a month ago, you were rushed to the hospital.”
“Oh, that.” She waved a pink-taloned hand. “Just a little TIA. I’m following doctor’s orders to the letter, so all’s well.”
“Just a little TIA,” he echoed. The symptoms of a transient ischemic attack included weakness, double vision, dizziness, numbness on the left side of her face...all of which she’d exhibited before he’d dialed 911. And all of which could lead to another, more serious stroke.
“It was just a ministroke, honey. Don’t make more of it than there was.”
“Is.”
“Semantics. All you need to know is that I’m fine now. And as long as I keep doing what Doctor Ginnan says, I’ll stay that way.” She leaned forward to pat his hand. “Besides, I have the best business partner this side of the Rockies.” Colette winked. “And don’t give me that look. You love running the company almost as much as you love being on TV.”
He couldn’t deny it. What had started as Jase helping out with bookkeeping and ordering supplies for his mom’s little craft shop had developed into Jase subbing for her on cable TV’s most prominent shopping network. He’d felt silly at first, standing beside the show hosts, describing his mom’s handcrafted wooden and ceramic birdhouses, wall decorations, lawn ornaments and colorful bakeware. Before long, though, her products grew so popular that she’d had to sign on with a manufacturing company to mass-produce her can’t-get-them-elsewhere items. Even before the money started rolling in, Jase looked forward to monthly flights to Florida to do live shows during which audience members, mostly women, called in to ooh and aah over Colette’s Crafts...and flirt with him.
“You’ve been a huge help to me, honey. If not for you, I’d still be operating out of this office-slash-parlor-slash-library-slash-craft room.” She hesitated. “You know, if you need a break, we’re doing well enough to afford to hire an actor to take your place on the show.”
“Why would we do that?”
“So you can get back to your music, part-time, of course, because I need you as CEO. And maybe even tell Whitney that you love her, too, settle down and start a family.” She sniffed. “At the rate you and Drew are going, I’ll be a decrepit old woman before I become a grandmother.”
“Wait. Too?”
“Don’t look so surprised. We’ve sort of become friends. And friends confide in one another.”
Things like I love your son?
“For one thing, the subject of love has never come up.” He wished he hadn’t just told Dora that it might. “For another, I don’t much appreciate finding out that my mother and the woman I’m dating are talking about stuff like that behind my back.” He cringed. “It’s creepy.”
“She’s more than just the woman you’re dating.”
He could only stare in disbelief.
“She’s your girlfriend.”
“Mom...”
“Well? Do you?”
“Do I what?” As if you didn’t know...
“Good grief, Jase, don’t be so obtuse. Do you love Whitney, or not?”
Jase could admit that he enjoyed spending time with her. And that it felt pretty good, seeing a twinge of envy on other guys’ faces when he entered a room with the gorgeous blonde on his arm. But love?
“Mom, I—”
“Are you hesitating because you’re still in love with Lillie?”
“No way.” He tried to sound like he meant it. “You’re right. She messed up my head, bad. I have no desire to go through that again.”
“Not even now that she’s home again, supposedly cured of her addiction?”
Whitney couldn’t have told her about that, because to his knowledge, Whitney knew almost nothing about Lillie’s drug history. Unless...
“Please tell me you didn’t discuss Lillie’s past with Whitney.”
“What difference would it make if I did...if you’re over Lillie?”
“Whitney told you we ran into her and Liam today, didn’t she.”
“Yes. So?”
“So I don’t appreciate having my personal business broadcast all over town.”
She and Dora had both accused him of having trust issues. Was it any wonder!
Colette clucked her tongue. “First of all, I realize I’ve gained a few pounds, recovering from the TIA, but I’m certainly not big enough to be referred to as a whole town. And second, you were with Whitney when you ran into Lillie. I’d say that makes it her business, too. And if she wants to share a thing like that with me...” She shrugged. “Jase. Honey. I just want you to be happy.”
Almost word for word what Dora had said. Seemed a pretty feeble way to excuse their intrusion into his personal business.
“I pray every night that Whitney is the woman who’ll make your heart skip a beat, who’ll take your breath away. That she’ll make you smile just by walking into a room. Your father made me feel like that, right up until the end.”
And that, Jase believed, was part of the problem. As Lillie disappeared down the rabbit hole, over and over, he’d lost faith in her. Lost his confidence in his ability to tell the truth from a lie. How was he supposed to connect with a woman—or trust one for that matter—when he couldn’t trust his own judgment?
He was in too deep to change the subject now, so he said, “I don’t mind admitting, I’m a little envious of what you and dad had.”
“There’s something to be said for old-shoe comfort, for that spark that makes you...well, you know.” She giggled. “I tell you, that father of yours had the power to make me go weak in the knees with nothing more than a look. And when he kissed me?” She rested a hand over her heart, then finished with a mischievous wink. She threw back her head and laughed. Then, as suddenly as it began, her laughter subsided. “I have a question for you, son.”
“Uh-oh,” Jase said. “I’m almost afraid to hear it.”
She went on as though he hadn’t spoken. “When you kiss Whitney, does your heart skip a beat? Does the breath catch in your throat? Do your knees go weak?”
“That was three questions.”
“Despite my advancing age and allegedly frail condition, I’m not that easily distracted.”
Jase could answer all of her questions with a single word: no.
Because he’d felt that way only with Lillie.
He’d loved her, maybe too much, and it galled him that she’d chosen drugs over him.
Seeing her today proved two things. First, despite his denials, he still felt something for her. And second, self-preservation told him that he needed to smother it, fast.
Love without trust was a recipe for agony.
And he didn’t believe he had the mettle to lose her again.
CHAPTER THREE (#ub1a164b8-3279-57e1-8347-413af383bc39)
“THERE SHE GOES AGAIN,” Molly said, “with her ‘back in the old days’ reference.”
Since returning home, that was how Lillie referred to her life before the accident. The phrase inspired relentless teasing from her siblings—a whole lot easier to bear than the standoffish behavior they’d displayed prior to the repayment of every dollar borrowed and stolen—and her heartfelt apologies.
In response to her sister’s latest dig, Lillie said, “At least I didn’t commit marital alliteration. Matt and Molly, I mean really.”
“Marital alliteration?” Her brother reared back with mock surprise. “She dragged the dictionary out for that one, and much as I hate to admit it, she’s right!”
Arms crossed, Molly huffed. “You’re a fine one to talk, Sam, marrying a girl with the same name.”
Liam’s laughter filled the sunny yard as his wife said, “All right you guys, if you want to eat later, get back to work!”
The construction crew had completed the exterior work and moved inside to put the finishing touches on the kitchen addition. That left the outside clear for Lillie’s family to work on. Plants that had grown in beds around the old porch now stood in lopsided plastic pots along the back fence.
“Lillie, would you mind going around front to tend the rose garden? I know the crew tried to be careful, but they made a huge mess out there. You have the magic touch, maybe you can save them.”
Lillie grabbed a shovel, a trowel and her garden gloves. “Happy to, Mom.” And she meant it. Working out front would allow her to contribute to the cleanup project while ignoring the occasional sidelong glance or raised eyebrow, proof the family wasn’t entirely convinced of her trustworthiness.
After fertilizing and replanting several rose shrubs, Lillie decided to form a border around the bed by moving dozens of marigolds and zinnias from the side yard. Standing back, she gave her work an admiring nod. “Not bad if I do say so myself,” she said.
“Self-confidence looks good on you.”
Startled, she spun quickly around, nearly losing her balance. If Jase hadn’t grabbed both biceps, Lillie would have landed on the spade’s sharp blade. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d stood so close.
Blue eyes boring into hers, he said, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
He turned her loose and took a step back, and she saw she’d left muddy handprints on his white shirt.
She removed her right glove and made a half-baked attempt to brush away the dirt. Sadly, it only made the mess worse. “Omigarsh. Look what I’ve done. I’m so sorry. And this looks like a freshly pressed shirt, too.” And his jeans were dark, making him appear taller and slimmer than she remembered.
“It’s okay. Couple squirts with some stain remover and it’ll be good as new.”
He pointed at the flowers. “Nice job. You always did have an artistic eye. And a gift for stuff like this.”
“Thanks.” Just as she had weeks ago outside the Flower Basket, Lillie struggled for the right words. But what could she say? She’d promised to call him and hadn’t. Would he see that as proof she was still untrustworthy?
“Guess your dad doesn’t have my number after all.”
So, his mindreading talents hadn’t faltered while she’d been in New York.
“He probably does, but to tell the truth, I never asked for it. I’ve been working a lot of extra hours, waiting tables and clerking at the hotel up the street. Unfortunately, I’m still a couple hundred dollars short of what I owe you.”
His Orioles cap shaded the upper half of his handsome face, but not enough to hide his furrowed brow.
“You don’t owe me anything, Lill. Really.”
“Are you kidding? Of course I do. If you’d like, I can write you a check right now, and pay the rest just as soon as I’ve earned it.”
Feet planted shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over his broad chest, he studied her. Because he hadn’t answered any of his questions? Or because of what she still owed him?
“Two jobs. In addition to helping out around here. When do you sleep?”
In fits and starts, she thought. A guilty conscience will do that to a gal.
She considered joking her way through a response, when he asked, “You have wheels?”
“I borrow Mom’s car when I need to drive someplace.”
“That’s gotta be tough on somebody like you.”
Somebody like her? This whole conversation felt forced. Stilted. Uncomfortable. Good as it was to see him again, she wished he’d just leave.
“What I mean is, you used to be so independent.”
Used to be, as in, before you became an out-of-control, thieving drug addict.
“So you’re walking to and from your jobs?”
“Unless it’s pouring rain. I’d walk then, too, if Mom didn’t insist that I drive.”
“Uh-huh.”
She wished he’d yell at her. Curse at her. Give her a stern talking-to. Anything was preferable to this oh-so-calm stoic demeanor that told her he didn’t care enough to let anything she did rile him. Right now, Lillie wished she’d spent a lot more time talking with her therapist about her feelings for Jase. Seeing him at the flower shop had rocked her, but not nearly as much as standing mere feet from him.
“So, which restaurant?”
“The Sip & Bite.”
“And I’m guessing since you’re hoofing it, you’re clerking at the inn at Henderson’s Wharf?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Why did he care? He didn’t love her anymore. The way you still—
“Why not wait tables in their restaurant?”
“There weren’t any openings when I applied. Besides, I can pretty much choose my schedule at the Sip & Bite. And the tips are great.”
Jase’s brows drew together. “Do you ever miss being onstage, singing?”
“I’ll say. It’s one of the reasons I started volunteering at Hopkins’ Children’s Oncology. Some days I sing to the kids, other days I paint faces.”
He thumbed his cap back, causing some of his shining black hair to fall forward, hiding one eyebrow. Skeptical was as close as she could come to describing his expression. Had she hurt him so badly that he couldn’t believe it possible for her to spend time with sick children? That shamed her. Hurt her, too. But, she had no right to feel anything but sorry for all she’d put him through.
“I hate to sound redundant, but with two jobs, helping out around here, and putting in time at the hospital, when do you sleep?”
Now that he knew she couldn’t repay him—yet—why was he still here? To make her regret losing him even more than she already did?
Maybe a change of subject would put them both at ease. “Saw you on TV the other day.” He’d looked so handsome. So at ease, smiling for the camera, making small talk with the show’s host. Thankfully, she’d been alone in the family room, so no one had seen her drop onto the couch cushions and blubber into a throw pillow. “You’re a natural.”
“It’s a different way to make a living, I’ll admit, but since Mom’s stroke—”
“What! Stroke? When did that happen? How bad was it? Is she all right?”
He held up a hand. “Whoa. Easy, girl.” Grinning, he said, “She’s fine. Happened a couple months back. Doc says she should be fine as long as she takes her meds, exercises, eats smart.”
She felt selfish. Self-centered. Childish. Because in all the time she’d been away, her only contact with Colette had been when she placed a check into a carefully chosen greeting card that featured lilacs, Colette’s favorite flowers. According to her bank statement, the check had been cashed almost immediately, eliminating the need to call and make sure Jase’s mom had received the payment. It had been a relief, but sad, too, because she and Colette had once been almost as close as mother and daughter. One more loss to chalk up to the addiction...
“You’ll be happy to know that Mom is as spry and spunky as ever.”
Lillie inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank goodness. I suppose I should give her a call. Or better still, stop by with a little get-well gift.”
As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. Some people, her counselor had stressed, would never fully get over what she’d done to them.
Yet again, she wondered why he’d stopped by. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, so it surely hadn’t really been to torment her...
“Mom and Dad are out back, cleaning up after the construction crew. The Sams and Matt and Molly and the twins are back there, too. I’m sure they’d—”
“I didn’t come here to see them.”
Despite the heat of the day, a chill snaked up her spine. She’d already made it clear that, unless he was willing to take a partial payment, she couldn’t reimburse him.
“Your...” Lillie couldn’t bring herself to say girlfriend. “Whitney seems nice.” She’s pretty, too. And tall.
Lips narrowed, Jase stared at the ground between his feet. Lillie had seen that grim look only once before, on the night he’d listed every way and every time she’d let him down. It took months to figure out why, in addition to anger and disappointment, guilt had flashed in his eyes that night: exercising tough love had been hard on him. But why did he look that way now, at the mention of Whitney?
His right hand shot out, startling her.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you again. Just didn’t want this guy getting all tangled up in your curls.”
Oh, he scared her, all right. But not because he held a daddy longlegs by one spindly appendage.
A tense snicker popped from her lips. “Yeah, well, maybe getting stuck would have been a good lesson for him. Hard to tell how long he would have been trapped in there!”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a slight grin. “A lesson. For a spider.”
“Then he’d know how helpless it feels.” She tucked a wayward wave behind her ear. “Being trapped, like the flies and moths he catches in his web, I mean.”
If she had to guess, Lillie would say he shared her next thought: I know exactly how that feels. She’d been trapped by addiction, and so had Jase because he’d loved someone in the trap.
“Are you thirsty? I made iced tea and lemonade this morning. We could drink it on the porch, out of the hot sun.”
Jase shot a quick glance at the porch and the row of rocking chairs that flanked the big double doors. Was he remembering, too, the way they’d whiled away the hours, counting stars, strumming guitars and finessing harmonies of new songs, or designing their future as crickets chirped and night birds peeped?
“No thanks, can’t stay. Just stopped by to say hi, and see how you’re adjusting to being home again.”
Home again. Not long after she joined the band, he’d written a song with that title, saying when he introduced it that he hoped it would inspire her to stay in Baltimore, rather than going back to touring the country.
Lillie shook off the bittersweet memory. “It’s all good.” It wasn’t. Not when she remembered the reactions of everyone she’d repaid. Not when she admitted they might remain leery of her. “I haven’t used in a long, long time, so I’m healthy, too, physically and emotionally.” She sighed. “Much to the surprise of just about everyone.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Family, friends, the guys in the band.” And you... “Not that I blame them.” She tugged off the other work glove. “A lot of water passed under the bridge.”
“More like a flood.”
Lillie couldn’t very well disagree. Face the discomfort, she told herself. Face it head-on.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s only natural that people doubt a full recovery. Even after talking with the rehab staff...” She shook her head. “I don’t expect most of the people in my life will forgive and forget easily. I realize that I still have a lot to prove.” Should she say it? Lillie went for broke: “To everyone.”
She braced herself, waiting for Jase to agree that he, too, was still wary.
“I can’t be a hundred percent certain,” she went on, “but it seems at least Mom and Dad have confidence in me again.”
“But not the Sams, or Molly and Matt.”
“Oh, they’re all being really nice. I think they know how hard I’m trying, but—”
“A case of ‘do or do not, there is no try,’ huh?”
If she’d had her way, their first real conversation wouldn’t have been anything like this. For starters, she’d have called him, arranged a time and place to deliver the money she owed, and in place of muddy sneakers, holey jeans and a paint-spattered cap, she would have shown up in something feminine and colorful. Lillie had never minded his take-charge personality. It was how he’d stayed on top of things as manager of the pub, what helped him turn his mother’s business into a thriving corporation. Without that trait, he wouldn’t have looked and sounded so professional on TV.
Right now, though, Lillie wouldn’t have complained if Jase was a bit less competent.
In all fairness, Jase wasn’t responsible for how bleak she felt. Her addiction was. One of the toughest things about coming home had been seeing and hearing for herself that everything they’d said at Rising Sun had been true: you may never win back their trust, so remember, you’re doing this for yourself. Lillie felt strong enough to cope with that for now, but what if her loved ones felt the same way in six months or a year? Would she be strong enough then?
“Aw, quit looking so glum, Lill. I watched you tough it out through those awful exercises during physical therapy. And you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t toughed out rehab, too. You’ve got that going for you, plus, you’re stubborn. More stubborn than anyone I know. If you really want to beat this thing—permanently this time—you will.”
If? Why the extra emphasis on the word?
“So how long have you and Whitney been dating?” Lillie hoped he wouldn’t tell her there was more to the relationship than that.
“Not long. Couple months, give or take.”
Her dad implied that Jase had seen other women, too, since their breakup. Any rational person would agree that he had every right to move on. At the moment, Lillie wasn’t feeling very rational.
She started to ask how they’d met when he stopped her with “I, uh, I guess I’d better head out. Need to get dog food, pick up some groceries and stuff.”
“When did you get a dog? What breed is it?”
This time his quiet laughter sounded halfway sincere. “It isn’t mine, it’s Mom’s. He’s a mutt. German shepherd–Doberman–Irish setter mix, near as the vet can tell. Good-lookin’ pup, but big. And sheds enough to make a whole other dog. Ronald showed up at her door one day, and stayed.”
Lillie smiled at that. “Ronald, huh?” She remembered the full-color autographed photo of the former president on Colette’s office wall, right beside the letter he’d dictated, detailing the country’s appreciation for Jase’s dad’s years of military service.
Jase only nodded.
“I’m sure she’s grateful for the companionship, especially since you and Drew and Dora travel so much.”
A look of disbelief crossed his face, and he took a half step back.
“I didn’t mean for that to sound like I think you aren’t doing enough for Colette. I’m sure you’re there every chance you get. Drew and Dora, too. I haven’t exactly earned any daughter-of-the-year points, so I have no room to talk.”
Jase’s eyes narrowed just enough to tell her he wasn’t sure whether to believe her.
“Anyway,” he said, replacing his cap, “I’m outta here. It’s good to see you’re doing well, Lill.”
“Good to see you, too, Jase.” Saying his name brought forth the memory of Whitney, calling him Jason. “You are still going by Jase, right?”
“Of course. You know how I feel about being called Jason.”
“I only asked because the other day, Whitney—”
The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Yeah, she’s the only person who calls me that. I’ve kinda learned to live with it.”
He sounded as annoyed as he looked. Difficult as it was to take Whitney’s side, Lillie said, “She probably just wants to make sure everyone knows that her relationship with you is different—more special—than any other.”
“I guess that might explain it.”
Although he followed up with a dry chuckle, Lillie sensed that he wasn’t happy. She tried a different tack.
“Have you told her that you prefer Jase?”
“Not in so many words.” Jase removed the cap again, ran a hand through his dark hair. “Well, I have to go.”
A strange twinge pinched at her heart: What if...what if he’d stopped by to tell her he’d proposed to Whitney, but decided she wasn’t strong enough yet to hear the news?
“Didn’t mean to take you away from your work.”
“You didn’t.”
Lillie held her breath, hoping he’d say, When can I see you again? or better still, I’ve missed you, Lill. He nodded and made a thin line of his mouth. His “I don’t know what to say, so I won’t say anything” face, she remembered. “You’re welcome here anytime, Jase.”
Just then, his cell phone dinged. A worry line creased his forehead as he read the caller ID screen. Whitney. Lillie would have bet her wheelbarrow on it.
Jase slid wraparound sunglasses from his shirt pocket.
“See you around, Lill,” he said, and made his way down the driveway.
It wasn’t what she’d hoped to hear, but it beat “goodbye.”
Lillie faced the rows of marigolds and zinnias she’d planted in front of the roses. Funny, but they looked even brighter through the sheen of tears.
The counselors had cautioned her against expecting anything more than an arm’s-length friendship with Jase, and yet, somewhere deep in her heart, she’d hidden a glimmer of hope that when he realized how much she’d changed...
“Oh my, Lillie,” her mother said, leaning over the railing. “You’ve done a beautiful job! Are you almost finished?”
Turning so her mom wouldn’t see her tears, Lillie said, “I just need to give everything a good soaking and put away the tools.”
“Well, well, well. Will you look at this,” Liam said, coming to stand beside Amelia. “Looks like a professional landscaper did the work.”
Lillie couldn’t thank him for the compliment, because a sob ached in her throat.
“Hot dogs and hamburgers are ready, kitten, and your mom made her famous potato salad.”
Her mother took a step forward. “Are you all right, honey?”
“Just a little tired. Not used to being on my hands and knees,” she croaked out. It was only a half lie. The ache in her leg—so familiar since her accident—had flared up during all the yardwork. She’d be limping tomorrow.
“You must be famished. A good thing, because Sam is about to take the meat off the grill.”
“Are we eating out back?”
Liam said, “Yup. Red-checkered tablecloth, the whole nine yards.” Her dad started down the steps. “Let me help you clean up.”
Lillie twisted the hose nozzle and gasped when water spritzed the upper half of her body.
Another good thing, as it turned out, because the droplets camouflaged her tears.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub1a164b8-3279-57e1-8347-413af383bc39)
“I WISH YOU didn’t have to go.” Whitney leaned her head on his shoulder. “I was so looking forward to introducing you to the new partner.”
Jase grabbed a handful of popcorn and stared at the preview on the movie screen. “He’ll be with the firm for years. I’m sure we’ll get together some other time.”
She snuggled closer. “Are you sure you can’t get out of it? Just this once?”
“I think I know why your parents spoiled you.”
“I’m not spoiled.”
Said the girl who drove a Mercedes at sixteen. Attended Vanderbilt, despite so-so grades. Owned a town house in an upscale neighborhood—a graduation gift from her folks.
“You’re right. Sorry,” Jase said, meaning it. Since signing on with the law firm, Whitney had earned everything she called hers.
“Because I’d hate to think you feel that way about me.”
Even pouting, Jase thought, she was a knockout. Not as pretty as Lillie, but gorgeous nonetheless.
“Sorry,” he said again. Not because he’d almost called her a nag, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about Lillie, or comparing her to Whitney. It wasn’t fair to either woman.
Jase needed space, and time to clear his head. Standing in the aisle beside his seat, he leaned in to say, “How about some candy? I’m in the mood for Milk Duds.”
“The lines will be long, Jason. I hate to ask you to put yourself through that.”
“You aren’t asking. I offered, remember? So what’ll it be? Peanut butter cups? Chocolate-covered raisins?”
“How about a salted pretzel?”
Jase winked and made the thumbs-up sign. “Consider it done.”
Whitney had been right; the lines were twenty deep at every cash register. Most nights, he would have walked right back into the theater. Tonight, he considered it therapy. He had to figure out exactly how he felt about Lillie. He knew he still loved her. He’d probably always love her. Enough to set aside his suspicion? Therein, as the bard might have said, lies the rub.
A family of four left the counter, and Jase moved forward a few spaces.
A new thought occurred to him. What if part of her therapy was to make amends and repayments...and then sever ties with everyone who’d been a part of her life as an addict?
The kid at the counter said, “Can I help you, sir?” And from the look on his face—and the faces of the people to his right and left—Jase realized the boy had said it more than once.
“Salted pretzel, please. And some of those.” He pointed, and the cashier grabbed a yellow box. “Two waters, too.”
He paid for his order and somehow managed to make it back to the theater without dropping anything. Halfway between the entrance and their seats, Jase wondered if Whitney liked mustard on her pretzel. If she does, his Lillie-addled brain answered, she’ll have to eat this one plain.
By the time he reached her, the movie’s opening credits filled the screen. Fortunately, this was a screening of a classic movie he’d seen before, so if Whitney wanted to talk about it during the ride to her place, he wouldn’t sound like a complete idiot.
Even though you are a complete idiot.
The whole what-if question echoed in his head, even as the story unfolded, even as he took Whitney’s elbow and led her across the parking lot, even as he helped her into the cab of his pickup. It would solve all of his problems if Lillie’s counselors had told her to leave him in the dust.
Right?
“You’re awfully quiet,” Whitney said. “Thinking about your trip to Florida?”
Jase nodded as he backed out of the parking space.
“Have you packed?”
“Not yet.”
“You’ll get it done in no time. As many times as you’ve made this trip, I’ll bet you can prepare for it in your sleep. Besides, you’ll only be gone for a few days.”
“I guess.” Maybe he needed to have a talk with Lillie, face-to-face, find out where she stood on the subject of them.
“You’re not angry with me are you, for making you take me out tonight, when you could have been home, getting things ready?”
“No, Whitney. I’m not angry. And you didn’t make me take you out tonight. I’m here willingly.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Why couldn’t she be a little more like Lillie, comfortable with companionable silences?
Whitney fiddled with the radio, stopping when a rap song filled the cab. If it had been Lillie sitting over there, he’d be listening to country right now. Oldies but goodies. Jazz or blues. Anything but rap. Again, a familiar annoyance simmered in his gut. He wasn’t irritated with Whitney or Lillie. He was mad at himself for behaving like a spineless goofball, incapable of making up his mind or controlling his emotions.
Reaching across the console, he grasped Whitney’s hand. “I know I wasn’t the best company tonight, and when I get back, you can arrange dinner with the new partner and his wife. Someplace nice. My treat.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Sound good?”
She returned the squeeze. “I can’t very well turn down a deal like that, can I?” Grinning, she added, “Not without sounding spoiled, anyway.”
“Very funny,” he said, winking again.
It wasn’t in her wheelhouse to crack jokes, and he appreciated her effort to lighten the mood.
“Did the show send your schedule?”
The producers from the shopping network had always made sure he knew well in advance what time he’d be on-air. And Whitney was aware of this, too.
“Yup.”
“When you get a minute, will you take a screenshot of it, so I’ll know when it’s okay to call? I’d hate to interrupt you while you’re in the middle of describing one of your mom’s crafts.”
During his trip a few weeks earlier, she’d called and texted a dozen times a day. Called at night, too. And once, his cell phone had buzzed while he was on-air during the Father’s Day specials—loudly enough that the mic picked it up. His own fault. He should have left it in the dressing room.
“’Course.”
“You’ll call every day?”
“Sure.”
An odd thought popped into his head. She hadn’t been clingy or possessive before meeting Lillie. She’d even started referring to his past as “the Lillie years.” He’d assure her that things had ended between him and Lillie a long time ago...except, he wasn’t sure that was the truth. Or that he wanted it to be the truth.
“Good. Because I’ll miss you.”
“Me, too.”
“I don’t know why, but it always seems you’re gone for weeks, instead of a few days.”
Always? He’d gone to Florida only two other times since they’d met. But he’d been quiet and standoffish all night. What could it hurt to say something nice?
“Since you’re like a human World Clock, maybe you can be my wake-up call every morning.”
“Give me a minute to collect myself,” she said. “I don’t want to appear overeager. What would my fellow feminists say if they heard me gushing like a schoolgirl at the chance to rouse her boyfriend while he’s on a business trip?”
Boyfriend. Jase didn’t know how he felt about that.
“Fellow feminists,” he said. “Is that an oxymoron?”
She laughed. His mother may just have been right when she’d said that Whitney could be good for him...if he’d let her.
Jase nodded and smiled, smiled and nodded as she talked about the movie’s plot, the weather, the legal brief she needed to finesse for a pretrial hearing in the morning.
“Are you sure you can’t come in?” she asked, leaning into him.
“I’m sure. I need to get home, throw a few things in a bag. Besides, you have that brief to work on.”
Hands on his shoulders, Whitney kissed him, slowly, longingly. He waited for the weak-in-the-knees, heart-pounding reaction his mother had described. When it didn’t happen, Jase blamed himself. Maybe if he put a little more into it...
Still nothing.
“Drive safely,” she said when it ended, “and pack some immune boosters. You don’t want to catch a cold, breathing that recirculated air on the plane. Not a good idea to drink coffee or tea, or let the flight attendant put ice in your drink. I read an article that said there are swarms of bacteria in the water system and the ice maker.”
Jase chuckled quietly. “Swarms, huh?”

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