Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,6
She was a Pisces, a water sign. Con was as bright and hot and appealing to her quiet nature as the fire sign that marked his birth date. Aries, the god of war.
In the end, water would quench the fire. Leaving ashes.
Giving in to sorrow, she sobbed out her heartbreak. In the end, love wasn’t enough. Yet love would give her the strength to do what she must. She loved Con too much to destroy him.
She had to let him go.
Chapter 2
12:00 p.m.
For a woman who’d suffered an emotional meltdown, Bailey put on a pretty good front. She turned from the refreshment bar in the reading corner of Bookworm’s bookstore carrying a bag holding three warm chocolate chip cookies. Today, the sweet smell made her stomach churn. “Here you go, Nan. Anything else?”
Nan Thompson’s green eyes sparkled as she patted her distended abdomen. “I’d like a baby to go, please.” The young brunette giggled. “The ultrasound said it was a boy and it must be right. Men are perpetually late. He’s probably in there refusing to ask for directions.”
Bailey’s heart contracted. Con had never once been late. Con. The man she’d left dazed and wounded. Thinking of him hurt so badly she could barely breathe. So much for a pretty good front. “You should be home, resting.” Nan had insisted on staying in her position at the mall’s bank right up to her due date. “I’m surprised the bank manager hasn’t booted you out, for fear you’ll have that baby in the lobby.”
“He’s already griping about my maternity leave.”
Bailey lowered her head to hide her roiling emotions. “Seems bosses are all the same.”
“Seems like.” Nan’s sharp gaze fastened on Bailey’s face. After years of lunchtime heart-to-hearts, Bailey’s shaky facade probably hadn’t fooled her friend. She’d done her best to repair the wreckage, but she wasn’t a pretty crier. No surprise considering how splintered and torn she was inside.
Nan frowned. “Is that what’s bothering you? Mole Man up to his usual tricks?”
Bailey focused on Nan’s watermelon shape. Big mistake. She’d dreamed about some day having Con’s children. Had pictured them cradled in her arms. Long-lashed, starry brown eyes and irresistible smiles, just like their daddy. That wouldn’t happen now. Another woman would carry Con’s babies. Scalding air jammed her lungs. She fumbled for a cup of water and tried to douse the anguish with icy liquid. It didn’t work. “I’m fine.”
Nan’s voice gentled. “You’re anything but fine. Business is dead-slow today.” She patted an overstuffed navy chair in the cozy reading nook. “Did you decide to leave us and take that other job after all?”
Business was slow. A combination of New Year’s Eve and the nasty weather forecast. Too much time to think. To remember. Bailey couldn’t get Con’s bewildered face out of her mind. His devastated brown eyes. The hurt bracketing his mouth. Pain lanced through her. She couldn’t bear to think about him. Or talk about him without losing it completely. “I can’t discuss it. Not now.”
“Okay but—” Nan’s eyes widened. “Yikes! Monster spider!” She grabbed a newspaper, rapidly rolled it and raised the weapon.
Bailey grabbed her arm. “Don’t kill it!”
“What, you want to take it home on a leash?” The big gray-brown spider meandered along the brick-red counter and Nan edged back. “That sucker is big enough to wrestle my cat.”
“It’s a wolf spider. They usually stay in their burrows in winter. Poor lost soul.” Bailey snatched the paper and scooped up the lethargic arachnid. Her gaze traveled around the deserted room. “Watch the store for me? I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah, if Franken-Spider doesn’t eat you.”
Bailey carefully balanced the newspaper as she strode down the mall’s quiet corridor and out the main doors. Dark clouds overhead wept icy drizzle, a dreary reflection of her sorrow.
A barrel-chested man with salt-and-pepper hair lounged outside under the entryway, smoking. He was turned aside so she couldn’t see his face, but she felt his eyes watching from the shadows.
As she gently dumped the spider beneath the sheltered bushes beside the building, he took a drag on his cigarette. “Most women have screaming fits over anything that big and ugly.” His speech bore a hint of the Bronx.
The spider scurried under a leaf. Bailey empathized with the arachnid’s relief at being returned to her environment, away from threatening predators. The spider would burrow under the dirt, safe from the storm. A pointed lesson from nature. Don’t wander from where you belong. Adventure often has a lethal ending. “She’s a wolf spider. They live