Changing Lanes (The Lone Stars Book 3) (22 page)

“ASAP. I need to run home, but I’d like to leave in an hour or so.” Laney grabbed her purse and clomped back down the stairs. “Is that okay?”

“You bet. I’ll have him call you back with the details. Gotta go.” Nina hung up.

Sweet Louise was right. They did get a second chance and that was something extraordinary.

Chapter 17

Several hours later, Devon was fit to be tied. He couldn’t reach Laney. He paced the tiny cage of a hotel room and tunneled his fingers through his hair. His mother had called and said that Laney knew the truth. He stopped at the bed, picked up his phone, which he’d thrown there not two minutes ago after the last time he’d dialed Laney’s number. He hit redial.

“This is doctor Laney Nixon, if you have a life–threatening medical emergency, please hang up and dial nine–one–one. Otherwise, please leave me a message or press two to be connected to the medical exchange for the on–call doctor. Thank you.” It was the same message he’d listened to a hundred times in the last two hours.

The doctor on call was no help. In fact, Dr. Ambrose or Anderson or whatever his name, had threatened him with all kinds of violence and legal action if he didn’t stop waking him up in the middle of the night for something that wasn’t a medical emergency.

Something was wrong. Laney wasn’t the type to avoid conflict, if anything she’d face it head on. She wouldn’t hide and not take his calls so that meant that she was in danger.

Where was she? He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was eleven–thirty here so it was one–thirty in Austin. He’d checked the Internet for car crashes in and around Austin and no cars matching either the Mustang or her Volvo had been in an accident.

Still, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that something terrible had happened to her.

What if some strung–out junkie had car–jacked her and forced her to write him a prescription for painkillers? It wouldn’t necessarily be on the news yet if she was tied up in her trunk. Did he really have to wait twenty–four hours to file a missing persons report? That’s what the cops always said on TV. If only he knew some tech guru who could tap into traffic and security cameras all over Austin. Was that even possible?

Probably not.

But he could check with all of the twenty–four hour pharmacies. He sat down at the tiny desk by the window and opened the lid of his laptop and Googled twenty–four hours pharmacies Austin.

Light knocking came from the direction of his door.

“Go away, I’m sleeping.” Some of his teammates had been trying to get him to go clubbing, but that hadn’t been his thing since his rookie days. He was too old to stay up all night and then go directly to practice. Partying was a young man’s game.

“It’s me.” The voice was female.

Laney.

He actually heard his heart start beating again.

She was here?

He was at the door in less than a second. He threw it open and pulled her into a bear hug. Relief washed over him in a tidal wave of love. She was okay. He thought it was a real possibility that he might die of happiness. Or kill her for making him worry.

“Ouch, you’re hurting me.” Laney didn’t struggle against him but she didn’t hug him back either.

“Sorry. I was sure you’d been in a car wreck or kidnapped by a drug addict. But you’re here.” Relief was close to making his eyes water. He loosened his grip and stepped back a half step. She was here, in front of him, standing right here.

“You have a very active imagination.” She had a bland look on her face so he couldn’t tell whether she was angry or not. She was here though, and that had to mean something.

“Not usually. But I couldn’t get in touch with you so my mind went down a negative rabbit hole.” He closed the door and stepped out of her way. “Welcome to my gilded cage. As jail cells come, it isn’t bad. Room service twenty–four hours a day and a view of downtown. Make yourself at home.” His nerves were starting to kick in. The BLT he’d had for dinner rumbled around in his stomach. He gestured to the bed and then thought about it. That was too suggestive especially since she was probably here to strangle him. He glanced at her delicate hands. They knew their way around a scalpel, but what about a garrote?

“Why are you staring at my hands?”

“Judging whether they’re capable of strangling me. My money’s on yes.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek and wished that it were tomorrow so they could be past the fight and were well into the making up portion.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Most women don’t have the upper body strength for that. Only five percent of homicides committed by woman are strangulation. On the whole, we like guns and knives.” One corner of her mouth curled up. “Then again, I’m pretty fit.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He pointed to an overstuffed chair in the corner opposite the desk. “Have a seat.”

“And you have a really big neck.” She studied him. “I’m not sure I could get my hands around it.”

“Thank God for small favors.” He was sweating a lot. With his sleeve, he wiped his forehead. Nerves were a terrible thing. If she didn’t start yelling at him soon and get it over with, he’d work himself up into a frenzy.

Her stomach rumbled so loudly that he heard it from across the tiny room. “Let me guess, you haven’t eaten today.”

“That’s not true, I had some pig at the Luau block party but that was hours ago.” She put a hand on her stomach. “I’ve traveled many miles since then.”

If he didn’t take care of her who would? For someone who was so physically active, she should remember to eat. He sure as hell had never forgotten to eat.

He picked up the hotel phone and hit the room service button. Stalling might not be the manliest thing he’d ever done, but it was as good of a coping mechanism as any. He grabbed the menu from off the desk and flipped through it. Taking care of her brought out the caveman in him—he wanted to beat on his chest and tell the world that she was his. But, after tonight, he wasn’t sure she would be his.

“Room service.” It was a male voice on the line. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like one of everything on page five and add a New York strip to that cooked …” he glanced at Laney.

“Medium rare.” She nodded.

God he loved that woman. She loved meat and liked her steak cooked just the way the Good Lord had intended.

“Medium rare and absolutely no knives on the tray.” Devon winked at Laney.

“Playing it safe?” She smiled sweetly.

Devon used his hand to cover the phone. “I have a highly developed sense of self–preservation.”

“Okay. I’ll get that going. Have a good evening.” The man hung up.

The best thing about hotel employees is that they rarely asked questions.

Slowly, Devon lowered the phone. Now what? She hadn’t started yelling. Was he supposed to start the groveling process before or after she yelled at him? With his mother, he let her rant her fill and then apologized, but he wasn’t sure with Laney. No other girlfriend had really prepared him for this because when he’d made one mad, he didn’t care enough to stick around. It wasn’t like any of those women had been the one—no,
the one
was sitting across the room, her cool Caribbean blue eyes watching his every move.

He dried his palms on his thighs and sat on the edge of the bed.

She opened the purse in her lap, dug around in it, and pulled something out.

“I think this belongs to you.” She opened her hand and sitting directly in the center of her palm was the brown leather bracelet he’d made for her. The leather was faded and worn like she’d handled it thousands of times. So she hadn’t stuck it in a drawer and forgotten about it, she’d taken it out, touched it, held it, and remembered him.

That was the courage boost he needed.

“I should have told you. I wanted to, but I kept thinking that you’d remember me. I recognized you right off, so when you didn’t recognize me, I thought spending time together would do it. But we kept seeing each other and you still didn’t put it together.” He took a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. The fact that she hadn’t recognized him still hurt.

“You should have told me.” She set her purse on the small table on her right. “I confided in you about … you. Do you know how stupid that makes me feel?”

He tunneled his fingers through his hair again. “I didn’t think of that. I should have thought of that.”

In hindsight there were so many things he should have worked out before jumping into the deep end with her, but damn it, she’d just walked back into his life, and he hadn’t been ready. Well he was ready to see her, but he hadn’t been prepared for her not recognizing him.

“When I planned the moment we’d meet again in my mind, it never occurred to me that you wouldn’t know me. Yes, I should have handled it differently, but part of me wanted for you to remember on your own.” He crossed and uncrossed his legs in an effort to make himself more comfortable, but the truth was he wouldn’t be comfortable until she forgave him. “I know it was prideful, but I wanted you to remember me because I guess it meant that you’d still have feelings for me.”

All along he’d thought she was at a disadvantage because she didn’t know they had a past, but now he saw that he was the one with the handicap because he was ready to pick up where things had left off, but she was at square one, starting over.

She mulled that over and finally nodded. “Just because I didn’t know you right off, doesn’t mean that some part of me didn’t recognize you. From the moment I saw you at the stadium, I felt like I’d known you forever.” She shook her head. “For me, that’s saying a lot. I don’t usually feel close to people that quickly … or ever.”

“Could you come sit over here.” He patted a spot on the bed next to him. He needed to touch her … to have her close.

“Why?” She looked skeptical. “Are we finally going to have sex?”

“Not until we finish talking, but it’s good to know that you’re open to having angry sex.” He smiled to himself. “I want you to come over here, because we both can’t fit on that chair, and I need to touch you. Even if it’s just to hold your hand.”

She stood and walked the four steps to the bed and sat down. “Now what.”

He put his arm around her and with the other hand drew up the bracelet she’d made for him so long ago from his front trouser pocket. “I carry it with me always—well not on the field because there aren’t any pockets in my uniform.”

He handed her the well–worn green leather bracelet.

“What happened to it?” Gingerly she took the battered green–turned almost gray with time circlet of leather.

“I might have left it in my pants pocket once or twice and it went through the wash.” The green had faded into more than one pair of jeans.

“The one you gave me stays in my wallet. It’s always the first thing I move over when I buy a new wallet.” She was sentimental, she just didn’t know it.

His heart rate calmed a bit. Knowing that she always had his bracelet with her like he did with hers meant something.

“I love you.” Those three words weren’t anywhere close to enough to explain the vastness of his feelings for her.

“Okay, I sort of get you not telling me … sort of. I should have recognized you. I feel bad about that.” She ran her thumb over the worn greenish leather. “I came all this way to throw yours in your face, but now I want to keep it.” She didn’t sound sad so much as thoughtful—like this was a revelation that just occurred to her. “So what do we do now?”

“We pick up where we left off all those years ago, and we get to know each other for the people we are today.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that she hadn’t said that she loved him back. Doubt pricked his heart. If the reciprocal words weren’t automatic, it probably wasn’t forthcoming. She’d said that she was falling in love with him, but not in love yet. It would do for now, but it wasn’t enough—not nearly enough.

She stood and climbed in his lap. “Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do this since I met you fourteen years ago?” She wrapped her arms around him. “We have so much time to make up for.” She kissed him hard and hungrily on the mouth. She leaned back just a bit. “I’m staying the weekend. Grace called her husband and smoothed it over. We can spend the weekend together, when you’re not working.”

He couldn’t believe his luck. Not ten minutes ago he was worried that she was hurt, and here she was sitting on his lap.

Abruptly she straightened and looked at him. “That’s okay, right? You’re not mad or have other plans.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t believe how lucky I am.” He pulled her closer. She fit against him nicely—she fit into his life nicely.

“You know, The Emerald City Comic Con is this weekend.” She tried to sound nonchalant.

“Is it?” He grinned at her.

“Can we go, can we go, can we go?” She bounced up and down on his lap.

“I have practice tomorrow morning and one in the evening, but in–between … you bet.” He loved everything about her. There was nothing he would change. She made his life bright and colorful.

“Good, because I already bought us tickets.” She was so excited that she sounded like she was all of ten years old.

So she’d bought tickets for them even while being mad at him. She hadn’t come to break up with him? She might only be falling in love with him, but she did see a future for them—even if only for this weekend.

Chapter 18

It seemed odd that Laney should be this nervous over something as basic as sex, but here she was hiding in the bathroom trying to decide if she had the courage to open the door and show Devon the sexy black lace teddy that hours ago she’d thought was a good idea. She studied herself in the mirror.

Her nipples poked out through the somewhat itchy lace, and the front was basically a halter–top split from navel to breast with a tiny little piece of lace holding it together. The matching black lace panties were little more than a string and a swatch of fabric.

It was hard to feel sexy when the damn thing itched and the fluorescent lighting turned her skin to a sickly shade of green. Still, some men liked lingerie, and hopefully she wouldn’t have to wear it long.

Picking up her hairbrush, she swiped it through her hair a couple of times and then brushed her teeth. She was stalling, but she couldn’t help it. For the last fourteen years, her life had been leading up to this moment. She’d built it up so much in her mind that the pressure was getting to her.