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  “Make sure you don’t say it first.”

  She didn’t plan to, but her curiosity was piqued. Sometimes she forgot he’d grown up in Bluestone. What did Teresa know that she didn’t? “Why?”

  “He’ll bolt. He did it fifteen years ago, he’ll do it again.”

  “He married Liv.” She wished she knew more about that story. From what she did know, Liv was a strong woman who could hold her own against Leo’s sense of adventure, have him coming back to her again and again. Trinity was not that kind of woman. But surely Leo knew that by now, and he was still around.

  “But he had that job, the one that took him all over the world. Don’t you think he misses it?”

  “I’m sure he does, but he’s adjusting to life, to being a dad for Max.” They hadn’t talked about his job, or the future, or any of that. As far as she knew, he was still leaving the first of June—in two weeks. She had thought she wanted to keep everything the way it was, but now, after last night—well, last night had seemed momentous somehow. A turning point. And if they were going to go forward, they were going to have to talk.

  ***

  While Trinity was in workshops, Leo relearned the city he’d worked in for a handful of years. The energy felt good, and he found himself back at his old newspaper, where he’d gotten his break. He wondered if his old editor was still here. On a whim, he walked into the building and headed for the elevator.

  It was good to see some of the same people still worked there and remembered him. Several approached and clapped him on the back, and finally the editor who had hired him, Jim Breiling, stepped out of his office to greet him. He beckoned Leo into his office and offered him a chair across the desk, a position Leo had taken many times as he’d argued the relevance of a story. Just being here made him itch to write something controversial, something that would stir up his juices.

  After Breiling offered his condolences about Liv—Leo hadn’t realized he hadn’t seen the man since she died, the editor asked, “Looking for work? I heard you took a leave of absence from Up to the Minute Magazine.”

  “Not quite ready to look for work yet. I’m living up at Bluestone Lake with my son and my folks, writing from there.”

  Breiling snorted. “That’s bound to be satisfying after what you’ve seen and done.”

  “It’s not demanding, but I get time with my kid.”

  “You’re built for demanding, Leo. Your writer muscles could atrophy up there in the back woods.”

  To tell the truth, he’d thought that himself, and had toyed with the idea of writing a book about his experiences while he’d been a reporter, but between Max and the town and Trinity he didn’t have the time to put into it.

  “You need to come back to real journalism. If Up to the Minute doesn’t want you, I can use you. I’ll give you any feature story you want, give you whatever deadline you need. You’ll sell papers, Leo.”

  That remark did his ego a load of good and he walked out wanting nothing more than to talk to Trinity, talk about their future. Would she want to move here? Would she be able to find a job?

  Again he was making mental plans without discussing it with her. Liv had complained he did that a lot, but he could always charm her to get his way. He didn’t want to rely on that anymore.

  And there was Max to consider, Max who now loved living close to his grandparents, near the lake. He could have a nanny if Trinity wouldn’t come with him, but how would he adjust? That choice wasn’t fair to the boy, uprooting him again, just as he was getting settled.

  He needed to consider if this was the life he wanted again. After Liv died, he wanted to go back to the way things were, to being able to travel, to come home when the job was done. But now, now that he’d been in Bluestone for a couple of weeks, bonded with his son, with Trinity, with the town itself…he didn’t know if that life would make him happy anymore.

  ***

  “Maybe you should go on an assignment, see if it’s what you want,” Trinity said when he brought it up over dinner at the Italian place he used to love when he lived here.

  He almost felt guilty for taking her away from her friends, but they’d been encouraging, waving the two of them off when he’d approached in the bar. He’d delighted them by dipping Trinity for a kiss, and Trinity’s eyes glowed, but he wondered if he wasn’t doing her a disservice by invading her space, coming here to the thing she’d said she so looked forward to every year. But he didn’t want to be without her.

  “Like freelance,” he said. He’d considered the same thing, and Breiling had been excited enough about seeing him that Leo figured he might go for it.

  But another fear was that he might still love it, might be as addicted to the action now as he’d been before Liv died. And if he was, then what? What would that mean for Max, and for his relationship with Trinity?

  “It’s not out of your system. I know it can’t be,” she said. “Besides, you’re too good.”

  He sat back in the chair and looked at her. “How do you know that?”

  She blushed and studied her fork for a moment. “I may have Googled you. That Texas border story must have been particularly terrifying to write.”

  “It kept me on my toes.” He leaned forward and captured her hand. “I’m thinking I’m not ready to go back into the field yet.” He brought her hand to his mouth and touched his tongue to her palm.

  She shivered and blushed, but didn’t pull away. “We’re just giddy because we don’t have to look over our shoulders every couple of minutes to see if we’re shocking someone.”

  “I’d like to take you back to the hotel and shock you. You up for that?”

  “I am. I even came prepared this time.” She held up her purse. “A change of clothes and my make-up.”

  How she managed to fit all that in her purse, he wouldn’t ask. All he could think about was touching her, taking her, surrounding himself with her. And tomorrow they would talk.

  ***

  “You look amazing.”

  Leo’s smile almost sent Trinity melting into a puddle in the lobby floor as he approached. She’d wrangled him a ticket to the final dinner of the conference, and while she worried he might be bored, she wanted him to meet her friends, to show him off a little bit. They would have fun, and then afterwards, she would tell him about the child she’d given up for adoption, and brace herself for his reaction.

  Her stomach would be in knots all night, but after spending two nights together, and last night actually being able to sleep, waking up in his arms, sharing a bathroom with him—things couldn’t go any farther until he knew everything. She wouldn’t be able to include herself in his decisions until he knew about the past she’d tried so hard to bury.

  He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her into the main dining room. She was aware of all the appreciative glances. He was one of only a handful of men at the conference, and he was breathtakingly handsome in his suit, clean-shaven. But that wasn’t what made her heart kick when she looked at him. No, what did it was the way he looked at her as he held her chair, then took the seat beside her. The way he greeted her friends with his special charm. He offered to get the ladies drinks from the bar, and returned with all in hand, refusing payment. The women tittered with appreciation and sent Trinity jealous glances.

  And she couldn’t relax, even when he sent that sexy smile her way.

  He sat back, his fingers looped through hers as they listened to the speaker, and his deep chuckle sent longing through her, a longing for something more than a night in his bed. She wanted to pass him on the way to the bathroom every morning, wanted to sleep every night in his T-shirt. She’d made a mistake bringing him here, because if he left her, she’d never be able to enjoy the conference again, always imagining him sitting beside her.

  Her friend Brianna leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “I need to go to the restroom. Will you come with me?”

  Trinity didn’t roll her eyes but wanted to. Instead, she sent an apologetic glance
to Leo, who smiled.

  “My God, woman, that man is in love with you,” Brianna insisted as they stepped through the swinging restroom door. “Are you blind? He hasn’t taken his eyes or his hands off of you.”

  “It’s still new.” Trinity fidgeted with her purse as she stood at the counter in front of the mirror. “That’s all.”

  “I’d kill to have a man look at me like that, to come down to the city to see me.”

  “He was looking for a job.” Until she said it, she hadn’t even thought it. She knew that wasn’t the whole story—he could have come down to the city at any time and he chose to come when she was here, but his main goal wasn’t her. “He’s a reporter.”

  “So? Whatever. They come home. God, I’m a mess just watching him watch you. Sexiest thing ever. Don’t screw it up.”

  But she was going to. She was going to screw it up tonight before he took her to bed. She was going to tell him about her choice. Would he be able to look at her the same way, or would he be disappointed in her mistake as well?

  “Everything all right?” he asked when she returned to the table. “You look upset.”

  She cast him a pained smile. Why had she waited so long, let things get so serious? Now everything mattered too much. Losing him would be the hardest thing she’d done since she turned her head away from her child.

  ***

  She was feeling warm and romantic when they retired upstairs, partly because Leo had his arms around her, his mouth close to her neck, his body clearly aroused as he pressed into her bottom. She couldn’t, couldn’t let him seduce her before they talked. But God, she wanted to turn in his arms, pin him to the wall and have her way with him.

  Still, this couldn’t go on without him knowing everything.

  He turned her to him once they were inside the room, and she let herself melt into his kiss before she broke away.

  “Leo, I need to talk to you.”

  “Later.” He pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot beneath her ear and she arched toward him despite herself. “God, you look amazing in that dress.” He trailed his hand down the side of the form-fitting sheath.

  Temptation was strong, but she pressed her hands to his shoulder. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  He drew back, brows pulled together. “Is everything okay?”

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to change everything. “You know I lived in a very strict household growing up. I didn’t have a lot of freedom. So, when I went away to college—”

  His phone rang. Her stomach dropped when he pulled away to check the display.

  “I’m sorry, Trinity. It’s my mom.” He clicked to answer. “Yeah, Mom?” His mouth turned down. “Does he have a fever? Okay, but it’s going to take me about three hours to get there.” He hung up. “I’m sorry. Max is sick. Throwing up. I need to go. Do you want to come with me?”

  Relief shot through her, so fast and hot her knees went weak. She had a reprieve. Maybe that would make the subject harder to broach the next time, but he’d leave here still thinking well of her. “I can’t. I have to take Teresa home tomorrow. And, you know, my car is here.”

  “Right. Sure.” He moved around the room, gathering his things and shoving them into his bag. “I’m really sorry, Trinity. I wanted to talk o you, too, but we’ll be able to, when we get back. When Max is better.” He zipped up his bag and straightened, looking at her. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Go.” She waved her hands toward the door. “Thank you. You made this weekend—wonderful.”

  He smiled and crossed to kiss her. “You can stay here tonight.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll go back to my room. That way, Teresa and I can get an early start home.”

  ***

  Leo had never taken care of a sick child before. He’d only been a back-up to Liv on the few occasions he’d been home with the boy was ill, and thank God that hadn’t been very often. He expected work, but didn’t expect the worry. Kids were sick all the time, weren’t they? But every time Max retched or cried or moaned, Leo’s thoughts went to the worst possible scenario. There was no ER in Bluestone, and the clinic was closed on weekends, though he was pretty sure Dale would meet him there if he called.

  “It’s just a virus,” his mother assured him. “There’s nothing a doctor can do.”

  Except give him peace of mind. “I’m going to call.”

  “Leo, he’s just going to be sick in the car.”

  “That’s what plastic bags are good for. You mind getting me a couple?”

  He lined the booster seat and the floor of the SUV with garbage bags and handed Max a couple of empty plastic Walmart bags with instructions to use them if he needed them. He wished Trinity was here to ride in the back seat with Max, keep him calm. But he was on his own.

  As he drove to meet Dale at the clinic halfway between Bluestone and Wilson, he wondered what it was she was so determined to tell him, what it was that had almost made her cry when he had to leave.

  ***

  By dawn, he was in his bed, Max tucked beside him, sleeping, exhausted but no longer throwing up thanks to the suppository Dale had given him. His skin was cool, no longer clammy, his breathing even. Leo brushed the curls back from the boy’s pale skin, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and fell asleep himself.

  ***

  Max was feeling better by Monday evening, and Leo went to Quinn’s to hear about the first concert, which he’d missed by going to the city. Quinn glowered at him when he entered the bar. Oh. So, not good.

  “If you ever leave me in charge on movie night again, I will not be responsible for what happens to your machine.”

  “What?” Leo mounted a barstool and took the beer placed in front of him. “I showed you how everything worked.”’

  “Right, and I wrote it all down, but the damned machine didn’t like me. Some kid from the high school had to get it going, after a half hour delay when everyone was getting pissed.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I can buy you a beer?”

  “Maybe you can bring me some more business—like a free ad in the Bluestone Tribune.”

  “Because people don’t know you’re here?”

  Quinn’s scowl deepened. “I don’t know. Something with a deal, like ‘Get twenty percent off with mention of this ad’ or something.”

  Okay, that was a pretty good idea. “Consider it done.” He glanced around. “Seen Trinity?”

  “No, but you’re not the only one looking for her.” He motioned down the bar to a stranger, a blond man around Trinity’s age, nursing a beer and watching the door.

  “Who is he?”

  Quinn shrugged. “No idea.”

  Unease fluttered in Leo’s chest as he turned his attention back to Quinn. “Where’s Lily?”

  “No idea.”

  “You two still not talking?”

  “We talk.”

  “Grunting at her is not talking. And she’s sure made herself scarce. I haven’t seen her in here since before our first game.”

  “Somewhere around there.”

  Clearly the man wouldn’t be forthcoming. Okay. “So how did the concert go? Did we get a crowd?”

  “What do you consider a crowd? Twenty people? Because, then, yes.”

  “Twenty people?” Disappointment weighed in his chest. “That’s it? You mean twenty people from out of town, or counting the people in town who went?”

  “Twenty people total. Maybe five from out of town, the rest from here. Band was good, though.”

  “So we’re going to have to make adjustments for the next concert, get word out more.” Leo frowned, trying to think of something he could do that hadn’t already been done.

  “Could I get another beer?” the blond man from down the bar asked.

  Leo turned to him. “You’re a friend of Trinity’s?”

  The man lifted his eyebrows and scooted down two barstools closer. “You know her?”

  “I do. How do y
ou? Are you from here?”

  “We went to college together.”

  For some reason alarm bells went off in Leo’s head. College—she’d started to tell him something about college the other night before he had to leave St. Paul because of Max.

  “Sweethearts?” Quinn asked, serving him.

  “You could say. We were engaged.”

  Chapter Ten

  Trinity’s hands slickened on the steering wheel as she sat in the parking lot of Quinn’s. She’d made her mother repeat the information twice, so there was no mistake. Charles was here, and he’d been by the house looking for her. Why? Why now? When she’d called him, she’d been so shaken by the sound of his voice, familiar but not after eight years, that when he’d told her he was at Quinn’s, she said she’d meet him there, just to get it over with.

  Her heart thundered when she recognized Leo’s SUV in the lot.

  This couldn’t be worse.

  She walked into Quinn’s on shaking legs and saw Charles on the barstool next to Leo, their heads bent together, Quinn in front of them, and the stunned expression on Quinn’s usually calm face said everything.

  She hesitated in the door, shaking, and Quinn looked up. Something flashed across his face when he saw her—guilt? She dug for courage, pasted a smile on her face and crossed the room.

  “Charles.” The word came out sharper than she intended.

  Leo turned, the smile on his face tender, welcoming, but she was only peripherally aware as she focused on Charles.

  Charles, too, noticed, because he looked from Leo to Trinity. She forced herself to move closer, to not worry about what Leo might hear, what he might think. God, she didn’t want him to be disappointed in her, and that possibility, especially now that her secret would seem forced from her, was looking more and more likely.