Lisa Jordan - Lakeside Reunion

Lindsey turned her face away from his hand and took a step sideways. She tripped over a large potted plant next to the water fountain.

Stephen grabbed her before she fell. Before common sense could kick in, he drew her against his chest. “Take it easy.”

He breathed in the fruity scent of her shampoo, craving the fragrance like a junkie desperate for a fix.

They belonged together.

Only they didn’t.

He had no claim on Lindsey anymore. He chose another woman. They shared a child.

The overcooked coffee he drank while waiting for Ty’s X-rays to come back soured in his stomach. A yearning for the past tangled with regret and blew through his veins, nearly dropping him to his knees.

He shouldn’t be hugging Lindsey. For a moment, though, it felt so right. Holding her for even a brief moment edged out a sliver of longing.

She leaned against him. Then, almost as if she realized what she was doing, she stiffened and pushed out of his embrace. Her warmth evaporated, leaving him with a sudden sense of loss.

“Thanks for your help, but I—I just can’t … can’t deal with you right now.” Without a backward glance, she fled down the hall.

A viselike grip constricted his chest. He didn’t want her pity. Or her gratitude. He wanted something she would never trust him with again.

Her heart.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

How could she have let him get under her skin like that?

Of all the …

No.

Stop thinking about him.

As if she could.

She needed something, anything to take her mind off this morning’s fiasco in the hallway. But like a thief in the night, images of him crept through her thoughts. Why did he have to be so nice? Made it harder to hate him. She sighed. She didn’t hate him. She couldn’t. But still, her heart couldn’t take being around him so much.

Lindsey snatched a worn Ladies’ Home Journal off the low table in front of her and flipped through it. Not caring about another diet tip or fashion secret, she tossed it back on the table. The nubby fabric of the cushioned chair embossed the backs of her legs. She shifted positions and grabbed a different magazine. Halfway through, she realized she had no interest in learning how to land a tarpon or tie saltwater flies.

Dropping the fishing magazine on the empty seat beside her, Lindsey stood and paced. The wall clock showed ten minutes had passed from the last time she checked.

Grandma peered over the top of her bifocals at Lindsey. “You’re going to wear a path in the carpet.”

Lindsey stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “How long does it take to operate on a broken leg?”

Grandma clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Patience, dear. These things take time.” She dropped her knit ting in her purse and rubbed her joints. Standing, she smoothed her pink sweater over her hips. “I’m going to see if Granddad wants to take a walk. Why don’t you come to the cafeteria with us? It’ll take your mind off the surgery for a little while.”

Lindsey’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything since last night’s slice of cold pizza and a couple of slurps of tea left from the lunch she set down and forgot about. But she couldn’t leave. Just in case. “Thanks, but I’ll wait here in case there’s any word.”

“Okay, then. Can we bring you anything?”

“Good news about Mom?”

“All in due time.”

“I’d trade my favorite designer handbag for a chai latte and fresh blueberry muffin.”

“Not sure if the cafeteria has any of that fancy tea, but I’ll check.”

“Thanks. If not, I’ll be fine.”

Grandma pulled Granddad away from the sitcom he was watching. They left the surgical lounge, arm in arm.

Now that she was the only one in the room, the canned laughter from the wall-mounted television sounded too loud. Lindsey snatched the remote and shut off the TV.

Her thoughts roamed free as the conversation with Stephen replayed itself for the hundredth time. Then her klutzy trip over that blasted planter landed her in his arms.

She breathed in the faint scent of his cologne that lingered on her sweater. It signaled memories—sunrise picnics at the lake, long walks in the park, stolen kisses in her backyard.

What was she doing? Acting like a sixteen-year-old with her latest crush. Ridiculous. She had more important things to worry about.

Her cell phone chimed. She dug it out of her purse. The low-battery signal flashed. Great. Her charger was back at the inn.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Lindsey. Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called. The Andersons called and asked if they could come in a day earlier, so I was making up their room.” Rita, her assistant manager at the inn, sounded out of breath.

“Where’s Amanda?”

“She called off. Her daughter has strep. Poor thing. I called in Cheryl and Lynn to help for the rest of the afternoon. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“None at all. Sorry to leave you with one more thing to deal with. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

“Don’t think about that for a single minute. We’ll manage. Your mama needs you. Have they discharged her yet?”

Lindsey shouldered the cell phone and straightened the magazines on the table. She told Rita about her mother’s surgery.

“Gracious sakes, Lindsey. Don’t you worry your pretty head about a thing. Paul and I will take care of everything. Stay with your mother and help her to get better.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Rita. I’d be so lost without you. Don’t forget the Topliffs are arriving later this afternoon. Mrs. Topliff is allergic to flowers, so be sure to switch out the fresh flowers with silk ones from the supply closet. Ask Paul to fill the birdfeeders with that new sunflower mix I bought last week.” A beep sounded in her ear. “My cell phone is about to die and the charger is in my office. Is there any possible way you could call Tony at the garage and find out about my car? Depending on what’s happening with Mom, I may be able to swap cars this evening if my convertible is done. Call Mom’s house and leave a message, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, not at all, doll. I’ll do it right awa—” The rest of Rita’s words were cut off as the phone died. Lindsey tossed it into her purse.

She strode to the window that overlooked the parking garage. Kicking off her pumps, she dug her toes into the nubs of the industrial-grade berber carpet. How long before she could take that hot bath, put on warm pajamas and crawl into bed for about twelve straight hours of sleep?

Scalloped clouds crowded out the September sun. What there was of it. As the afternoon wore on, rain had returned and assaulted the sidewalks with a raging force. Rivulets raced down the pane and bounced off the window ledge. Lightning slashed the sky like an impatient sword as thunder echoed between the buildings, rattling glass and brick.

Lindsey closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool glass. Come on already. She needed some news. Any news.

Someone tugged on her skirt. “Lindsey?”

She turned. A woman sitting in a wheelchair smiled at her.

Lindsey dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the woman’s bony shoulders. “Aunt Claire! When did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes ago. I met Mom and Dad in the hall and chatted with them for a few minutes. I would’ve been here sooner, but work was crazy today.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you own the trendiest boutique in Shelby Lake. Loved the pictures you emailed. And the fab website. Not bad for being open a year.”

“Yes, I’ve been blessed. Enough about me. How are you doing? Honestly.”

Lindsey tucked her feet under her and shrugged. “Tired of waiting.”