The Hollow Page 0,92

to them. That had been strategy, not manipulation. Jesus, it wasn't like he'd signed a lease for her, or applied for a loan, a business license. He'd just taken the time to find out what it would take for her to do those things.

But there was one thing he hadn't factored into that strategy. He'd never considered that she wasn't considering staying in the Hollow. Staying with him.

He dropped one of the balls, managed to snag it on the bounce. Setting himself, he started the circle again.

If he'd made a mistake it was in assuming she loved him, that she intended to stay. He'd never questioned, not seriously-her conviction matched his-that there would be something to stay for, something to build on, after the week of July seventh. He believed he'd felt those things from her, but he had to accept now those feelings and needs were just a reflection of his own.

That wasn't just a bitter pill to swallow, but the kind that caught in your throat and choked you for a while before you managed to work it down. But like it or not, he thought, a guy had to take his medicine.

She wasn't required to feel what he felt or want what he wanted. God knew he'd been raised to respect, even require, individuality. It was better to know if she didn't share his feelings, his wants, better to deal with the reality rather than the fantasy. That was another nasty pill, as he'd had a beauty of a fantasy going.

Her smart, fashionable shop a couple blocks up from his office, Fox mused as he dropped the balls back in his drawer. Maybe grabbing lunch together a couple times a week. Scouting for a house in town, like that old place on the corner of Main and Redbud. Or a place a little ways out, if she liked that better. But an old house they could put their mark on together. Something with a yard for kids and dogs and a garden.

Something in a town that was safe and whole, and no longer threatened. A porch swing-he had a fondness for them.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? he admitted, walking to the window to study the distant roll of the mountains. All that was what he wanted, what he hoped for. All that couldn't be if it didn't mesh with her wants and hopes and visions.

So he'd swallow that, too. They had today to get through, and all the others until Hawkins Hollow was clean. Futures were just that-the tomorrow. Maybe the foundation for them couldn't and shouldn't be built when the ground was still unsettled.

Priorities, O'Dell, he reminded himself, and sat back at his desk. He pulled up his own files on the journals to begin picking through his notes.

And the first spider crawled out of his keyboard.

It bit the back of his hand, striking quickly before he could jerk back. The pain was instant and amazing, a vicious ice-pick jab that dug fire under the skin. As he shoved away, they poured out like black water, from the keys, from the drawers.

And they grew.

LAYLA WALKED INTO THE HOUSE WITH HER SYSTEM still reeling. Escape, that's what she'd done. Fox had given her the out, and she leaped at it. Walk away, don't deal with this now.

He loved her. Had she known it? Had she slipped that knowledge into a neat file, tucked it away until it was more convenient or more sensible to examine it?

He loved her. He wanted her to stay. More, he wanted her to commit to him, to the town. To herself, Layla admitted. In his Fox-like way, he'd laid it all out for her, presented it to her in a way he'd believed she'd appreciate.

What he'd done, Layla thought, was scare her to death. Her own shop? That was just one of the airy little dreams she'd enjoyed playing with years before. One she'd let go-almost. Hawkins Hollow? Her commitment there was to save it, and to-even though it sounded pretentious-fulfill her destiny. Anything beyond that was too hard to see. And Fox?

He was the most beautiful man she'd ever known. Hardly a wonder she was reeling.

She stepped into the office where Quinn and Cybil worked on dueling keyboards.

"Fox is in love with me."

Her fingers still flying, Quinn didn't bother to look up. "Bulletin!"

"If you knew, why didn't I?" Layla demanded.

"Because you've been too worried about being in love with him." Cybil's fingers paused after another click of the mouse.