Beth Kery - If I Trust You

“I’m sorry,” she said, bouncing Riley on her knee. “I’m really not myself lately.”

“Understandable,” Mari soothed. “You’re life has been turned upside down within a matter of months. You should take some time off for rest and reflection. But I’m still thinking about Christmas. Will you go to Brigit’s?” she asked delicately. “I know how much she wants you to come.”

Deidre sighed, guilt and defiance sweeping through her in equal measure. She was growing increasingly familiar with the feeling, since she had experienced it in distilled form every time she’d noticed her mother had called her cell phone yesterday. She’d left every call unanswered. “I don’t know. Maybe,” Deidre murmured noncommittally. In truth, she wasn’t sure what she’d do for Christmas. She didn’t know if she was ready to return to the Kavanaugh house on Sycamore Avenue or to make amends with Brigit.

Marc joined them a minute later. He held up an envelope.

“Lincoln DuBois’s will,” he told Deidre. “I guess Nick Malone dropped it off at the front desk while we were at lunch. I’ll look it over, then have a friend of mine who specializes in estate law go over it with a fine-tooth comb. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“That’d be great. Thank you, Marc.”

Marc eyed her worriedly. “Please don’t agree to anything Nick asks of you until you talk it over with me. I’m not crazy about leaving Harbor Town while he’s here. I don’t trust him. It’s just our luck that Liam left town for his honeymoon the day after Malone arrived,” Marc said, referring to Liam’s job as the Harbor County police chief.

Deidre gave her brother a teasing grin. “There’s no need for you to worry. Nick’s presence here may be strange, but I hardly think he’s going to resort to criminal activity.”

“Do you have any interest whatsoever in running DuBois Enterprises?” Marc asked, his expression remaining serious.

“Look at it like this. If an alien landed in your front yard and asked you if you’d like to run their planet, what would you say? That’s pretty much how I feel about this whole situation. I know absolutely nothing about business. Sure, I’d like to learn something about Lincoln’s company, understand it better, but run it?” Deidre asked wryly, glancing from Marc to Mari.

“Just the fact that you’re interested in DuBois Enterprises says something. Don’t let Malone influence you. You’re still in shock about everything that’s happened to you. He might take advantage of that.”

“Come on, Marc. You know as well as anyone I can take care of myself.”

“We’re talking about a hell of a lot of money here, and ten times as much power. It’s not a world we’re accustomed to, Dee. Who knows what people will do when the stakes are so high?”

Deidre laughed. “I said almost the exact same thing to Colleen yesterday.” Her expression sobered as she studied her brother. “Marc—I’m worried about what could happen with your campaign if news gets out about the will. When things go public, there’s a good chance the truth about Mom and Lincoln’s affair, not to mention a lurid rehashing of the car crash, is going to show up in the papers. The Kavanaugh name could be dragged through the mud all over again.”

Mari gave a small groan and looked at her husband anxiously. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’s not like the Kavanaughs haven’t been on the receiving end of bad press before,” Marc reminded both of them, pausing to stroke his wife’s shoulder in reassurance. After Derry had caused the car wreck due to drunk driving, his name and reputation had been battered by the press. The Kavanaugh family had suffered by association. “As a matter of fact, my opponent in the Cook County prosecutor race brought up Dad’s responsibility for the wreck, trying to use it for fuel. I’m used to mudslinging on the campaign trail.”

“But it could ruin your chances for a win,” Deidre protested.

Marc and Mari exchanged a significant glance.

“Marc’s right,” Mari said resolutely. “You have enough on your mind as it is without worrying about the outcome of Marc’s race.” When Marc swung his giggling daughter into his arms and changed the subject, Deidre took the hint and didn’t belabor the topic, although she was far from being reassured.

She’d promised to pick up Liam and Natalie’s mail while they were on their honeymoon in Turks and Caicos. By the time Deidre returned to Cedar Cottage later that afternoon, the snow had picked up. It wasn’t enough to make conditions hazardous yet, but Deidre was glad to be getting home.

Would Nick show up here at the cottage to take her to dinner, she wondered as she went into the cottage. He hadn’t called, but that wasn’t too surprising, given the fact she’d never told him her number. She supposed she should, given their strange, probably impermanent partnership at DuBois Enterprises.

She took a hot bath and dressed in a pair of jeans and a favorite soft, cotton cable-knit sweater. To her dismay, she found herself spending way too much time on her makeup, accentuating the color and shape of her eyes with liner and subtle eye shadow. When she realized what she was doing, she irritably threw the makeup in a bag and stalked out of the bathroom.

What was she doing, primping for Nick Malone?

She was convinced she was indifferent to his arrival when a knock came at her door a little after six o’clock.

She was entirely uncaring about seeing him, that is, until she opened her front door and saw him standing on the dim porch, snow dusting his hair and jacket, and holding the trunk of a perfectly shaped, six-foot pine tree and a huge bag from Shop and Save.

“I thought you might like a Christmas tree,” he stated simply.

She blinked in amazement, transferring her gaze from the tree to his face. She was stunned. Had he noticed last night—that flash of longing she’d tried to hide when they’d talked about childhood Christmases? Had he noticed months ago, at The Pines, when she’d conversed with Lincoln?

She knew he had when she looked into his somber eyes, knew it down in her very bones.

“I hope it’s okay,” he said quietly. “What do you say, Deidre? A truce? Just for one night?” he added when she didn’t speak.

She dazedly realized she’d just left him standing there at the front door, gaping at him.

“I...well...all right. I mean...it is a great tree.” His face lit up at her flustered response. She gave him a sheepish grin. It was hard to frown at Nick when he flashed those dimples.

He gave the pine a good shake to remove the few snowflakes that had settled on the upper boughs.

“One of the reasons I got this one was that it was beneath a canopy and completely dry...at least until I carried it to the car,” he explained, knocking off a last few stubborn flakes with his gloved hand.

Without thinking Deidre stepped forward and brushed snow off his shoulder, going up on tiptoe to swipe her hand through his dark brown hair. The strands felt thick, soft and chilled beneath her fingers. He glanced at her in surprise. His face was close. He had little flecks of black interspersed in the silver-gray of his irises. His lashes were very thick….

She cleared her throat and stepped back, banging her hip clumsily on the door.

“Come in,” she said breathlessly, opening the door wider to make way for Nick and his heartwarming gift, all the while hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake by letting him into the cottage...by inviting him into her life.

Chapter Three

They set the tree in the front window where it could be easily admired from the rural road and while curled up on the couch before the fire. Deidre busied herself pulling out all the decorations from the bag while Nick arranged the tree in the base.