Savage Beauty - Peggy Webb Page 0,28
daylight, Lily pulled her iPhone out of her pocket and sent a text.
Jack, when you get this, please text back. I need to talk to you.
She was headed up the stairs to shower and dress when Jack’s text came in.
Great minds. I was just going to text you. I have news about Cee Cee’s birthmother. How does 7:00, your shop, sound? I’ll bring doughnuts.
It would be almost like old times. Until she’d read his text, she didn’t know how desperately she needed that. Hoping Jack’s news would be good, she sent her reply.
I’ll put on the coffee. See you soon.
She’d have plenty of time to drop Annabelle off at the greenhouses. Too much was happening too fast. Lily didn’t want her daughter walking through the grove by herself, and she didn’t want her to be alone.
Lily was bent over her desk, framed by the Christmas wreath that hung in the window of Lily’s Designs. Jack quickened his steps. He was swept back in time to the days when she’d greet him with a smile and a hug as spontaneous as his own heartbeat.
When he walked inside, the shop bell over the door tinkled. “Hey, you!”
“Hey, yourself.” She hurried toward him, and for a moment he thought she was going to walk right into his arms. Then her steps slowed and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, self-conscious. “I was looking at pictures of the engagement party. They were on the hall table when I left the house. Want to see?”
It was the last thing he wanted to do. Still, he knew what Lily was doing. When she was worried about something really important, she didn’t share it until she’d had plenty of time think about it, first. This wasn’t about photos. She was processing something big.
“Sure.” He joined her at the desk where she’d spread them out. But it wasn’t photographs of her smiling at her fiancé that caught his eye. It was the note that lay beside them.
Darling, forgive me for being distant last night.
Why on earth would any man who loved Lily ever be distant with her? If she were his, they’d disagree as fiercely as they loved. But they’d never be distant. That would be like putting yourself on the other side of the ocean from her, something Jack would find unbearable.
I have a lot to do before our wedding. The engagement pictures were delivered to my office yesterday. Enjoy!
Stephen had punished her by withholding something he knew she’d cherish. Jack wanted to hit something. Preferably that picture of her fiancé as he stood at the top of the stairs with his arm around Lily. Stephen didn’t look besotted, as a man in love should. He looked smug. And what about the way he was looking at Lily in the conservatory, as if she were a possession?
The note finished with, I’m off to spend a wonderful day with our daughter.
That last sentence sounded as insincere as a politician’s promises, especially considering what Annie had said about Stephen at the restaurant. If he really thought of her as his daughter, she’d have known it. Kids know when you love them. They also know when you’re only pretending. Annie more than most. He’d watched her grow up. He’s seen the frank way she handled relationships.
Jack handed Lily the note. “I hope Annie has a good time with Stephen.”
She blushed. “I guess I left the note there for you to see.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore. The more I think about it, the more confused I become.”
She jumped up, rummaged in a file cabinet and came back with a folder whose label pierced Jack through the heart. BEDROOM, it read. STEPHEN AND LILY. With her back turned, she stuffed the folder and the engagement pictures into a tote bag.
“Is the coffee ready?” She nodded, still with her back turned, but at least the tell-tale folder was now out of sight. “Good. Let’s regroup.” He put his hand on the small of her back to guide her into the break room. It was the only touch he dared, and even that small contact was electric.
As he pulled out a chair for her at the 1950s style table with the red and white Formica top, he felt as if he were coming home. She had a Christmas cactus blooming on the windowsill, cinnamon-scented candles burning, and coffee with chicory in the pot. The walls were covered with drawings Annie had done, starting in kindergarten when