The Player, page 16
“There are moments when I’m with you,” he whispered, “that I forget everything I know is true. That I want to rely on things I know aren’t safe.”
Her lips parted in surprise.
Seeing her in the firelight, measuring the warmth in her eyes, he could sense something about to come out of his mouth. Something that petrified him.
Three little words.
A spear of panic went through his chest and triggered an acid burn that rose up from his belly into his throat.
Don’t say it, he thought. Don’t you dare say it. You’re confused. Overwrought for no good reason. Suffering from weeks of sleep deprivation.
God, he needed to pull himself together before he made another cruel mistake. He wasn’t in love with her. He couldn’t be. He just wasn’t that kind of a man.
Kissing her once on the lips, he got to his feet and went back to the fire.
“But enough of me,” he said sharply as he palmed his glass. “What have you been up to?”
He watched her close up, her legs coming together, her arms linking around her waist. Her eyes were wide and a little worried when they met his, but she accepted the change of subject.
“I—uh, I’ve been working on the sketches… .”
As she spoke, Gray rattled around in his own skin.
He shouldn’t have come, he thought as he sipped some bourbon. Now they were both upset over nothing. And she deserved more than being whiplashed around by a man who didn’t know his ass from third base when it came to his feelings.
He never should have come.
* * *
GRAY’S EXPRESSION WAS TOO impassive for Joy to read and his quick mood change was equally unfathomable. While she filled the silence with meaningless details of daily life, she kept hoping he’d stop her rambling and take them back to where they’d just been.
“So how long are you up here for?” she asked.
“I have to leave tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.”
“And I should probably go to my house now. It’s late, isn’t it?” He checked his watch.
“Only nine. You could stay for dinner.” She pushed her hair back. “Although I was just warming up some stew before you came. Nothing fancy.”
“That’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
She crossed her legs and fell silent, not really surprised.
Dimly, she heard a rhythmic tapping sound and realized she was the one making it. Her foot was striking the leg of the table next to her like a metronome.
His eyes tracked the movement and then slowly slid up her calf, her knee, her thigh. His gaze settled on her breasts and his lids lowered, as if he wanted to hide what he was feeling from her.
“I think I’ll go,” he said quickly. As he turned to get his coat, she saw his body in profile against the fire. The evidence of his arousal was almost, but not completely, hidden in the folds of his fine slacks.
The urge to yell at him was nearly irresistible.
The man flies hundreds of miles out of his way to come and see her. He gives her a lovely, thoughtful gift. Tells her intimate, private things. And then waltzes out as though none of it was particularly significant.
“I hope you have a good week,” he said casually as he slipped into his jacket. “I’ll call you when I get back to the city. Maybe in the afternoon, more likely later in the evening.”
As if she were just going to wait around to hear from him and he liked it that way.
Yeah, whatever.
She was suddenly damn tired of the go-away-come-closer game he was playing.
“I’ll be out tomorrow night,” she muttered.
His eyes flashed at her, his brows tightening. “And where are you going?”
She shrugged, getting to her feet with a burst of annoyance. “Nowhere important.”
When she started to move past him, he took her arm.
“If it doesn’t matter, then tell me.”
As she measured his dark intensity, she wished she hadn’t blurted out her plans. She had nothing to hide, but he wasn’t going to like who she was having dinner with.
“Actually, I’m going out with Tom.”
Gray dropped his hand.
“It’s no big deal. His sister is coming to town—”
“I hope you enjoy yourself.” He started to leave the room.
“Gray—Gray!” She grabbed his hand and was grateful when he stopped of his own accord. “Please, let’s not end tonight like this.”
He looked over his shoulder. His eyes were flat, lifeless. And harder to meet than when they’d been glacial.
“Don’t worry about it. You and I never agreed on monogamy, did we? And just because I was your first, doesn’t mean I’ll be the last. In fact, that’s one thing I can count on.”
She gasped, stepping back. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Why? It’s the truth.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re young, beautiful, incredibly compassionate. And even though it kills me, I’m realistic enough to know that sooner or later you’re going to find the right man for you.”
“Gray, I haven’t been with anyone else but you. I don’t want to be with anyone else except you.”
“You’ll get over that,” he said bitterly. “In fact, I want you to go out with Tom. It’ll speed up the process. Put us both out of our misery.”
Pain ripped through her.
As if the warmth she’d just given him was such a terrible burden?
Damn him.
“How dare you! How…” She couldn’t think of anything else that covered what she was feeling. “How dare you! You think you’re so experienced and sophisticated, but you know what? You’re just jaded and cynical.”
“All the more reason for you to move along.”
She fell silent, just staring at him.
“You’re right.” She pushed her hair back with a slash of her hand. “I do need to end this because God knows you’re pushing me right to the edge. After this little interlude with you, I’m dying to be with a man who makes some sense.”
Gray closed his eyes and cursed. “This whole thing between us was wrong from the beginning and it’s only gotten…more wrong. Look, you were absolutely right about that Tiffany’s charade. I don’t want to get married. I’m never going to get married. I had no business dragging you there and throwing rings at you, and I had no business coming after you tonight, either. I don’t know what I’m doing here, I really don’t. In fact, when I’m around you, I don’t know what I’m doing at all.”
“So maybe you should stop seeing me,” she snapped. “Stop calling me. Leave me the hell alone. Because I don’t need this kind of…relationship.” She rolled her eyes. “God, I don’t even know if that word fits us.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt—”
“Shut up!” God, she felt like slapping him. She really did. “I don’t want to hear another apology coming out of your—”
Joy fell silent.
A strange odor had suddenly permeated the room.
Gray must have noticed it, too, because he glanced over his shoulder, toward the dining room.
And then there was a loud whoomp! followed by a mighty shaking as an explosion rocked the mansion.
Chapter Thirteen
JOY SHOT OUT OF THE study, heading for the rear of the house where the noise had come from. The moment she entered the dining room, she stopped dead. In the kitchen, flames were alive and climbing the walls. Smoke poured out of the open double doors, bouncing along the ceiling. She felt the rush of heat on her face like a hot wind.
Gray hauled her back, shouting over the roaring sound, “We have to get out of the house!”
“My grandmother’s upstairs!”
Gray pressed a cell phone into her palm and shoved her toward a door that opened to the outside.
“Call 9-1-1. I’ll bring her down. Which bedroom?” he yelled.
Before she could answer, she realized with horror there was a shape moving among the flames. Her grandmother was in the kitchen.
“Grand-Em!” she screamed, lunging forward. “No!”
Gray caught her. “I’ll get her! Use that phone!”
Joy was momentarily paralyzed by the sight of him disappearing into the fire. What snapped her mind into gear was the thought that he and Grand-Em might need to be treated for smoke inhalation. Or maybe something worse.
With her eyes watering from the stench and the heat, she dialed quickly, giving her address and what she knew, which wasn’t much. By now, the flames were licking out into the dining room, consuming the moldings along the ceiling, scorching the plaster. She backed up, but she couldn’t leave. Not without Gray and Grand-Em.
Searching the flames and smoke, she heard a hissing sound, like steam or gas being released. And then a second explosion sent her flying back against the wall.
“Gray!”
She scrambled outside, tripping and flailing around before finding her footing and running toward the kitchen door. She skidded to a halt as she took in the spreading devastation. Violent orange tongues licked through the popped glass panes of the alcove’s windows. Smoke billowed up into the cold night air in great, oily swells. The heat was so intense, it banished the night’s chill.
He must be dead.
They both had to be dead.
Joy fell to her knees on the grass, taken down by a pain like nothing she’d ever felt before. Not even the loss of both her parents came close.
Through her sobs, she heard distant sirens and thought, You’re too late. You’re too damned late. What was worth saving has already been lost.
She felt something bite into her hand and looked down. Gray’s cell phone.
She clutched it tighter and stared into the churning inferno.
Movement caught her eye. Over to the right.
From around the back of the house, a shadow lurched. No, it was a tall figure. Silhouetted against the shifting light of flames. A tall figure carrying something.
“Gray!” She leaped to her feet and ran without touching the ground. “Gray!”
His knees gave out just as she reached him and he sank to the grass, heaving great breaths into his lungs while gently laying Grand-Em out flat. The elderly woman was dazed and so was he. They were both covered in ash.
“Oh, Gray.” Joy kissed his face. “How did you get out—”
“Through the office. I broke the window and—” A coughing fit overcame him and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.
“Here!” she called out as the fire truck and ambulance pulled up. “Over here!”
Paramedics came jogging to them as the firemen started pulling out hoses. Oxygen masks were quickly put on both Gray and Grand-Em and then the two of them were moved farther from the fire. While they were being worked on, Joy hovered around the knot of medics, knees loose at the near miss.
When she was sure neither was injured seriously, she looked over her shoulder. The rear portion of the house was consumed by flames.
How could it possibly—
A cold dread hit her. The stove. The burner. She’d left the burner on. But surely that wouldn’t have caused such an explosion. Except what if after she’d fiddled with those dials, she’d left something else on?
Just as the thought occurred to her, Frankie’s Honda came down the driveway.
“Frankie!” Joy called, a sob coming from her throat. “Oh, God…Frankie. Frankie!”
She rushed to her sister as Frankie slowly got out of the car. Nate came around from the passenger side with a similar shell-shocked expression.
Frankie’s eyes were wide. “Joy… My God, are you all right?”
Joy was crying openly as she embraced her sister. “Yes, yes…Gray saved Grand-Em. But, oh Frankie, I think I did this. I think this is my fault—”
“Shh.” Frankie cradled her while focusing on the fire. “You’re hysterical. Let me go talk to the firemen.”
* * *
THE BATTLE AGAINST THE blaze was still ongoing when the paramedics decided Grand-Em had to be taken to the Burlington Medical Center for observation. Joy volunteered to go along, but she didn’t want to leave without talking to Gray and couldn’t seem to find him in what was now a throng of people.
Two more fire trucks had come. Another ambulance. Two policemen. And all of the men seemed big and tall.
As Grand-Em was being loaded into the back of an ambulance, Joy frantically searched for Gray in the chaos.
“Ma’am? Excuse me, ma’am?” One of the paramedics put his face in front of her. “Ma’am, we have to go now. Are you coming?”
She tore her eyes away from the scene. “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “But I need to—”
Suddenly, Gray materialized at her side. His suit was ruined, his hair coated in ash, his face streaked with black. She wanted to throw her arms around him and nearly did. What stopped her was the faraway look in his eyes as he spoke to her.
“Your sister, Nate and Spike will be staying at my house. Do you know the number?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll stay there, too. For however long it takes to get White Caps back in livable shape. You’re going with Emma to the hospital?” When she nodded, he asked, “How will you get home from Vermont?”
“Frankie will come get me tomorrow morning.”
He nodded and looked away. “Okay. Take care of yourself.”
“Is this goodbye?” she whispered.
“Ma’am, we’ve really got to go,” the paramedic interrupted. “Do you need help getting in?”
She gave Gray another moment to respond. When he said nothing, she took the other man’s hand and stepped up into the ambulance.
The paramedic got in with her and paused before shutting the double doors. He looked at Gray. “Don’t worry, sir, we’ll take good care of your wife and her grandmother.”
As the doors were shut, Joy could have sworn she heard Gray say, “She’s not my wife.”
The engine flared and the ambulance jerked and Joy blinked back fresh tears. Staring out of the back window, she watched as Gray stood in the driveway, hands in his pockets, face in shadow.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Joy spent an hour walking around the hospital grounds. The sunshine was bright, though not particularly warm, and the chilly fresh air was just what she needed. After a night spent upright in a chair in her grandmother’s room, she felt like she was packed in cotton wool.
Or maybe she was still in shock.
The guilt of knowing that the fire was her fault ate her alive. She’d endangered people’s lives. Gray’s. Grand-Em’s. The firemen’s. She’d burned part of the family’s house down. Ruined her sister’s wedding. Destroyed countless personal effects and family heirlooms.
And that wasn’t the half of it.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Gray racing into the burning kitchen and she relived what it felt like to think he was dead. Then she pictured him telling her to take care of herself as if he were saying goodbye.
God, she felt as if she’d been punched in the chest.
Trying not to get sucked into her own head again, Joy looked up at the sun, noting the shift in its angle.
Frankie should be here by now, she thought dully.
She scanned the cars in the parking lot, looking for the Accord.
“There you are.”
She wheeled around at the familiar, deep voice. “Gray?”
“I’ve been waiting in your grandmother’s room and I just saw you from out of the window.”
She searched his face, reassuring herself that he was well. And that he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. “What are you doing here?”
“Your brother was released this morning ahead of schedule. Frankie had to go down to Albany and pick him up, and Nate had to start the fun and games with your insurance carrier. I volunteered to pick you up.”
“Oh. That was awfully kind.”
“How are you?” His eyes were shrewd. He knew, she suspected, that she was falling apart inside.
“I’m…”
The word she was searching for was fine, Joy told herself. She just needed to be strong and say it.
I’m fine, Gray. Thank you kindly for asking. I’m not a basket case who’s going to come undone just because she torched her family’s house and put her grandmother in a hospital bed and made the man she loved risk his life running into an inferno. Really, I’m just fine.
Fine.
“I’m…” She put her hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt him reach for her, but pride and a fear of losing it completely made her step back. She was too raw not to rely on him for strength and unsure whether he’d honestly welcome the burden of her tears.
“No, no, I’m okay. Truly. I don’t want you thinking I’m some kind of—”
“No offense, but shut up, Joy,” he murmured, taking her into his arms.
She resisted him for, oh, maybe half a second. And then she collapsed into his body, wrapping her arms around his waist, holding on tight. He felt so good. So strong.
But she told herself she shouldn’t read anything into the hug, that he was just offering compassion. He’d made his position clear right before the fire had broken out. No tragedy, no drama, was miraculously going to solve their problems. She forced herself to let go of him.
“So we, uh, we should probably go. But I’d like to say goodbye to Grand-Em.” She turned and headed for the front doors.
His voice stopped her. “Frankie told me you think you started the fire. But you should know the firemen believe the stove was faulty and that the gas connection in the back ruptured. It was probably a manufacturer’s defect and the explosion was triggered by the pilot in the oven, not the burner you’d been using on the stove top.”
She could only stare over her shoulder at him, picturing her hands twisting all those knobs. God only knew what she had turned on.
“Listen to me,” he repeated. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I guess it just feels that way.”
And it was hard not to believe that their problems weren’t because of her, too. If she were only a little more sophisticated, maybe they could have kept going. Enjoyed an exciting affair like a couple of grown-ups. Parted later, down the road, with affection.
