She loved his warm weight in her arms, loved his delicate rosebud mouth and his wide, alert eyes that were even now staring up at her with wonder. Loved everything about him from the tips of his tiny toes to the top of his little head. And she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if the attack had never happened, if she and Richard had gone through with their plans to finally have a baby of their own. She’d wanted one for so long, but had always let him put her off. There was never enough time, enough money, enough anything.
She had finally convinced him to start trying a month or so before she’d been raped, and had spent hours daydreaming about what it would feel like to hold her own baby in her arms. That had been one more dream that had crashed and burned the day she’d been ambushed by a madman.
Cole burped, and a trickle of milk leaked from the corner of his mouth. Reaching for the burp cloth Camille made sure was never far from the baby, Rhiannon cleaned him up before lifting him to her shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“I can take him if you want.”
She glanced up to find her sister-in-law watching her, an easy and relaxed smile on the other woman’s face. “That’s okay.” Rhiannon smiled. “I love to hold him. Go hang out with Matt for a while—I’m sure you two don’t get much time together these days.”
“Yes, well, I’ve been banished from the grill.” Camille popped the top off a soda and handed it to Rhiannon before opening another one for herself. “Apparently, I’m too much of a distraction.”
Rhiannon could believe it. She was shocked at how good her sister-in-law looked six weeks after giving birth—currently, she was dressed in a skimpy pair of cutoff jeans and a tank top that showed off the fact that she’d already lost most of the baby weight. Plus, her skin was glowing and she had a huge smile on her face. Only the dark circles under her eyes told the tale of how little sleep she’d been getting lately.
“So, what’s been going on with you?” Camille asked as she settled back in the lounge chair next to Rhiannon’s. “Planning any cool parties lately?”
She felt heat crawl into her face and prayed Camille wouldn’t notice. Keeping her voice steady was an effort, but she managed to do it long enough to say, “I’m working on a few things. One of them is really cool—a sixtieth wedding anniversary, if you can believe that. They were seventeen when they got married and they’ve made it for longer than half a century.”
“That is amazing. Sometimes I wonder if Matt and I will even make it to our first anniversary. After our rocky start sometimes I feel like we’re still really getting to know each other.”
Rhiannon sat up straighter. “Why? Are you guys having problems again?”
“No, nothing like that. Things are great. It’s just, marriage is hard, you know?”
“Absolutely. It’s really hard.”
“And yet I wouldn’t give him up. He drives me nuts, but I love him and Cole more than I’d ever imagined it was possible to love anyone.”
Rhiannon froze, her whole world kind of caving in around her as she listened to Camille wax poetic about her new family.
It sucked, really sucked, that she would never have that. At the same time, if the night before had taught her nothing else, it had taught her that she needed to be content with what she had. A new career that she liked. An extended family that she was crazy about. A nephew that she adored.
It was enough, especially considering the state she’d been in two years before. She’d had no husband, no job, no way of interacting with the world around her. She’d come a long way and pushing for more was just foolhardy.
“Well, enough about the gripes of a newly married woman,” Camille said with a grin. “Tell me more about the fabulous parties you’re planning.”
“There’s not much else going on. I am doing a carnival-type theme for another client—”
“A carnival? With games and everything?”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” She concentrated on the party, did her best to forget Shawn’s part in it. “The whole thing will be based around a movie theme. The client just sold the movie rights to his graphic novel character and wants to impress a bunch of the Hollywood types that will be in town for the film festival next month.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It should be—if I can bring it in under budget. He gave me a really large one to work with, but I keep having new brain waves and brain waves cost money.”
“You keep having new ideas because it’s a great concept. Really original—I would love to go to a party like that and can’t imagine that a bunch of actors and directors wouldn’t, as well. I hope he’s not giving you too hard of a time.”
“It’s not like that.” Rhiannon felt her practiced smile start to freeze and turned her face away, hoping Camille wouldn’t notice.
But her sister-in-law had eyes like an eagle, and before Rhiannon could think of a way to divert Camille’s attention, she was leaning forward in her chair, eyes narrowed. “You look funny. Why do you look funny?”
“I don’t!”
“Really, because from where I’m sitting it looks like you just ate a very big, very nasty-looking bug.”
“That’s disgusting!”
“Yeah, well, if the shoe fits—”
“Hey, mind if we join you guys?” Rhiannon glanced up to find her friend Sarah standing there, her one-year-old son in her arms while her not-quite-three-year-old daughter clutched her pant leg. Sarah was the wife of Matt’s partner, Reece, and she and Rhiannon had been friends for a number of years.
“Not at all,” she answered, grateful for the distraction.
“Hey, Rosie, why don’t you take that ball to Daddy and your brothers?” Sarah suggested as she settled herself and her son in a nearby chair. “I’m sure they and Uncle Matt would love to play with you.”
“Ball?” Rosie asked around the two fingers she had jammed into her mouth.
“See it? It’s right next to that plant.” Sarah pointed.
“I get ball, Mommy!” Rosie ran toward the beach ball on chubby legs, the bells tied to her shoes jingling with every step she took.
“Good girl, Rosie.”
They all watched as Rosie took off toward her father and the twin boys from Sarah’s first marriage, as fast as her little legs could carry her. But once she reached Reece, Sarah turned her attention to Rhiannon. “Okay, spill.”
“Spill what?”
“You looked like you were going to puke when I came over here and I want to know what’s up. Are you okay?”
“Nothing’s up.” Rhiannon’s cheeks started burning and she cursed her stupid redheaded complexion.
Sarah raised one blond eyebrow at Camille. “If she won’t tell me, you had better.”
“Actually, I was just trying to pry it out of her.” Camille took a long drink of her soda. “We were talking about a party she’s planning for a local graphic novelist and suddenly she started to look sick.”
“Really?” It was Sarah’s turn to lean forward, even as she popped a bottle in her son’s mouth. “So he’s single, then. Is he hot?”
“I never said anything about Shawn being single or hot.”
Cole started to whimper, turning to root around on Rhiannon’s breast, and Camille reached for him with a grin. “You didn’t have to, honey. It’s written all over your face.”
Rhiannon pressed her newly freed hands to her cheeks. “No, it isn’t. Nothing’s going on between us.”
“I think she’s protesting too much, don’t you, Sarah?”
“I think so.” Sarah slipped the bottle from her sleeping son’s mouth, then reached into her bag and grabbed a blanket to tuck around him. “So, tell us about him.”
“There’s nothing to tell. He hired me to plan a party and I’m planning it.”
“Yet you don’t freak out when you talk about your other clients. Come on, Rhiannon,” Camille wheedled. “We’re old married ladies. We need to live vicariously through you.”
/> “I’m older than both of you.”
“Yeah, but you’re single and hot and really smart. Guys go for that.”
“This whole conversation is ridiculous. He’s one of those guys who’s never serious, who’s always joking around. I mean, he draws cartoons for a living!” Even as she spoke, Rhiannon couldn’t help wondering if she was lying to herself. After all, Shawn had been extremely serious when he’d driven her back to her office after their disastrous date.
“You said he wrote graphic novels,” Sarah corrected.
“Is there a difference? I mean, his career choice is to draw pictures of men in tights and capes!”
“There is absolutely a difference,” Camille chastised softly. “One of my friends has been trying for years to get his graphic novel picked up. It’s a grueling industry and very few people are good enough to make the cut.”
“Not to mention the fact that if he’s doing well enough to afford a party like the one you described, it must be a pretty good career,” added Sarah.
“I know it is. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t respect what he does. I do. It’s just that I get the feeling that he’s never grown up. That life’s one big game to him, you know? He has every video-game console known to man hooked up to his TV, not to mention the built-in basketball court in his backyard. Plus he’s always joking around—it’s hard to get a straight answer from him.”
“That’s not such a bad thing, you know, especially in a fling,” Sarah mused. “I like a guy who can loosen up and have some fun.”
“And yet you married Reece, who is wound so tight it’s a miracle he doesn’t bounce?”
“Hey, Reece can be fun. You just have to dig a little to get to it.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to dig to find Shawn’s frivolous side. It’s right there for the whole world to see. He has huge, antique video games—that he still plays—in the middle of his family room, for God’s sake.”
“So what? Matt has a pile of video games ten feet high for his gaming system. Guys love that kind of stuff.” Camille tilted her head and the purple streaks she’d added after the baby was born glinted in the sunlight. Rhiannon wondered what it would be like to be that self-confident, that comfortable in her own skin. She had been once, but the past few years had made remembering the woman she used to be almost impossible.
“I think you should give him a shot. He may not be husband material—”
“I’m not looking for a husband!”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Camille continued. “Why don’t you just take things slow, see where they go? It could be a lot of fun.”
“I never said I was interested in Shawn.”
“Yeah, but you never said you weren’t. Right, Sarah?”
Rhiannon couldn’t believe she was having this conversation, especially with Sarah and Camille. Unlike some of her other friends who had tried to set her up after the divorce—despite her protests that she wasn’t ready—neither one of them had ever so much as mentioned a man to her. Now, suddenly, they were encouraging her to jump into bed with a perfect stranger. It was almost surreal.
“Stop. This whole discussion is ridiculous. It’s not like he’s even interested in me.” He might have been once, but the look on his face when he’d stared at her scars had told her all she needed to know about what Shawn wanted, or didn’t want, from her.
Camille snorted. “What’s not to be interested in? You’re smart, funny, gorgeous—”
“And I have enough baggage to fill up the luggage compartment of a 747. Not to mention I’m way older than he is.”
Camille’s eyes rounded. “You’re older than he is? How much older?”
“He’s still in his twenties.”
“His twenties?” Sarah repeated, mouth agape.
“Well, almost thirty. And I’ll be forty in a few days. Now do you see why this whole conversation is completely crazy?”
“Crazy like a fox, maybe. Go, Rhiannon.” Camille curled her legs underneath her as she nursed the baby. “I think younger men are totally sexy.”
“Oh, really?” asked Matt, eyebrows raised, as he walked by, carrying a tray heaped high with burgers. “Exactly what younger man do you find so sexy?”
“Oh, not for me. I’m fond of tall, dark and serious architect types myself.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” He laid the platter of food on a nearby table, then leaned down and kissed Camille warmly. Very warmly, and Camille seemed to be enjoying every second of it.
“So,” Matt asked, when he finally raised his head. “If you aren’t considering leaving me for a hot, younger guy…” He raised his eyebrows at Sarah. “Should I tell Reece he has some competition?”
“Oh, please, as if. We’re talking about Rhiannon.”
The look of sardonic amusement slid from Matt’s face and was replaced by one of complete and utter shock. “Are you dating again?”
She tried not to be offended by the total incredulity in his voice, told herself that Matt had been with her through everything and had seen how devastated she’d been—first by the attack and then by Richard walking out on her. He was probably just surprised at the idea of her looking for another man.
Not that she was looking, she reminded herself. It was all just silly conjecture on Camille’s and Sarah’s parts. But still, did her brother have to look like he’d just been poleaxed? Was she really so repulsive that he couldn’t imagine a man being interested in her?
Annoyance—and maybe a bit of fear that he was right—made her voice sharper than she intended when she answered, “No. Of course not.”
“Why of course not?” Camille demanded, and not for the first time Rhiannon wished her friend wasn’t so good at picking up on things.
“Because, as I was telling you before, Shawn’s a client. He’s just some guy I met through work, not someone I’m planning on dating.”
“Are you sure?” her brother demanded. “Because if you are, I have a friend who’s a detective. I can get him to check this guy out—”
“No one is checking anybody out. There’s nothing to check out.”
Camille elbowed Matt and he ran a frustrated hand over his face before turning back to Rhiannon. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“First of all, nothing’s going on, so I can’t get hurt. And secondly, why do you assume I’m going to get hurt again? Like I can’t take care of myself because something crappy once happened to me?” she asked, unable to stop herself. While she was desperately afraid to get involved in another relationship, even a superficial one, it was terrible to realize that her brother might see just how badly off she really was, especially since she’d worked so hard to hide it from him.
“I don’t, Rhiannon. I promise, I don’t see you like that at all. It’s just—” He paused, ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “After everything went down, you were a mess, Rhiannon, broken into so many pieces that I couldn’t imagine you ever being able to fit them together again. I just don’t want to see you end up back there again.”
“I’m not going back there, I promise. My life isn’t what I expected it to be, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like where I’m at.” She mouthed the platitudes without thinking, but as she thought about them, she realized they were true. While there was still a bunch of things she wanted to change about her life, there were some things she would never mess with.
She liked being an event coordinator, liked planning strange and different parties. And she loved her family and friends. There might only be a few people that she trusted now, but she trusted them implicitly. Surely that counted for something.
She was tired of being a victim—in everyone’s eyes. Sick to death of being “poor Rhiannon.” Sick to death of being the one everyone worried about or talked about at parties.
“I didn’t mean that—” The very real agitation in Matt’s voice had her leaning over and patting his cheek. It w
as a gesture that drove him nuts and there was definitely still enough big sister in her to make the action worthwhile.
But later, as she was walking Cole around the back yard, cooing at him and making baby noises, her brother’s words came back to her—along with her determination not to be a burden any longer.
She glanced around, trying to get a sense of where everyone was. Sarah and Reece were playing with their kids near the swimming pool while Matt and Camille were taking advantage of the time they had alone to cuddle on one of the loungers.
She’d been about to return the baby, but stopped dead when she saw them. They looked so good together, so quiet, so peaceful, that she didn’t want to disturb them. So she hung back for a few minutes, admiring the way they were content just to hold each other.
Rhiannon wasn’t sure how long she stood there watching her brother and sister-in-law—probably only a few seconds. But it was long enough to recognize the envy tightening her stomach. She didn’t begrudge Matt and Camille the happiness they had found, but she missed it. Missed that sense of being part of a couple. Missed the touching, the support, the feeling that there was somebody in the world she belonged with and who belonged with her.
Richard may have been less than kind in the end, but for much of their relationship he’d been a good husband, friend and lover. The fact that things had gone so terribly wrong at the finish didn’t negate what they had once had. What she was only just now beginning to realize she would someday like to have again.
Out of nowhere, Shawn’s face rose up in front of her. She’d spent the past week staring at the phone and wondering if he would call. He never did, and while she told herself it had a lot more to do with her behavior than it did her scars, she wasn’t so sure that was the truth.
She’d vowed to stop thinking of him numerous times throughout the week, but that didn’t mean he didn’t come to her—like now—in weird moments when she dropped her guard. Though this instant didn’t seem like an ideal time for him to appear—at almost eleven years her junior, it wasn’t like he was life-partner material.
And yet, she missed him. Missed the way he smiled at her. Missed the way he goofed around. Missed the way he was so much fun to be with. So much of her life was work—not just her job, but everything else, too.