to her temples. She felt as if she’d just been on a roller-coaster ride that had left her hanging upside down for too long.
Hours later, she was just as confused and out of sorts. It was nearly nine on a Saturday night and she could hear Trevor moving around next door. As far as she could tell, he didn’t have company. Did that mean he was actually staying in? Had she been wrong about him? If so, did that mean she was wrong about what had happened fourteen years ago?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know that. If Trevor hadn’t betrayed her, she’d had no reason to hate him then and no reason to mistrust him now. But she sensed with a certainty she couldn’t explain that it was necessary to go on mistrusting Trevor. Especially if she wanted to keep her life sane and her heart in one piece.
Trevor leaned against the balcony and inhaled deeply. If the town house were about fifty miles due west, he would be able to smell the Pacific Ocean. He hadn’t liked all that much about living in Los Angeles, but he did miss his daily jog along the beach. Still, giving that up was a small price to pay for coming home.
Home. He smiled at the thought. He’d worked so hard to get away—college in three years, a fast-track through medical school, internship and residency—and here he was, back where he’d started. Considering all, there was no place he would rather be.
He moved away from the railing and sank onto the white plastic chair tucked in the corner. The night was cool but clear. He told himself he should go in and grab something for dinner. It was nearly nine and he hadn’t eaten yet But instead of stirring, he relaxed and let his head rest against the chair back. Here it was, a Saturday night, and he was all alone. Who would believe it?
One corner of his mouth twisted up. His reputation was an amazing thing. He’d always been impressed with the stories that circulated about him. How did they get started and why did people believe them? If he went out as often as the rumors claimed, he would be existing on less than three hours’ sleep a night. If he was intimate with as many women as those rumors maintained, he would have the libido of Don Juan and the endurance of a triathlete, not to mention the IQ of a gnat. In this day and age, casual sex was more than stupid—it was deadly.
The irony usually amused him. The contrast between what the world believed and reality was as great as that between water and fire. The truth was, he spent most nights alone...even Saturday nights. He preferred it that way. But sometimes he thought about what it would be like to have a special woman in his life. As he’d told Dana earlier that day, he might not regret leaving Vanessa, but he did miss being married.
Dana. The quirk at the corner of his mouth turned into a genuine smile. He was sorry he’d missed the look on her face when she’d realized they would be neighbors. She’d probably wanted to spit nails, but instead she’d been gracious. Some of that, he knew, was because of his father’s presence. She wasn’t about to curse him out in front of the chief of staff. Ironically, Walter was the person she should blame for Trevor’s current living conditions. That sly old dog. Matchmaking again.
Trevor thought back to his parents’ multiple attempts to fix him up with women. “Nice ladies,” his father called them. Women with humor and brains; some pretty, some not; all the type to be put off by his reputation. He’d dated a couple and they’d been among his most successful relationships. Both his parents had warned him about Vanessa, not wanting to interfere yet wanting him to know she was more interested in marrying someone as attractive as herself than in a genuine relationship. She’d wanted to be part of a handsome couple. Unfortunately, her pretty face hid the morals of an alley cat His parents had been right about her. He wished he’d seen it sooner. Once he’d decided to move back to Honeygrove, his father had started a subtle campaign to remind him of a girl he’d dated in high school. What his father didn’t know was that Trevor didn’t need any help remembering Dana. If anything, there were days he would like to be able to forget her.
A car pulled up nearby. He couldn’t see the vehicle, but he heard it stop and the doors open. A man and a woman stepped out, their voices carrying on the faint breeze. Another door opened, then a young girl laughed. From her conversation and the sound of her voice, she was around five or six. The family talked together as they headed for their town house.
Trevor swallowed the envy that welled inside him. He’d hoped for children, but Vanessa had convinced him to wait. At the time he’d been devastated, but now he was glad. He wouldn’t want her to be his child’s mother. Not after he’d learned the truth about her. But his ultimate goal hadn’t changed. He wanted what that couple had, what so many others had found. A loving mate, happy children, a contented home life.
The elusive dream. He closed his eyes and asked, as he had a thousand times, what combination of features and characteristics, what movements, what words, conspired to make people—women—assume the worst about him. He was not interested in sex for sex’s sake, nor did he crave a different woman every night If the world knew the few number of ladies he’d actually made love with... He grimaced. No one would believe him.
For the most part he ignored the rumors, until they hurt someone he cared about or kept him from someone he really wanted to know. Someone like Dana.
He told himself the past was long over and getting lost in it again was a waste of time. He reached for the bottle of beer sitting on the plastic table next to him and took a drink. He tried to think of other things, of the surgeries he had scheduled for next week, of the two patients he’d admitted to the hospital that Saturday morning. He even toyed with the idea of renting a video. But it wasn’t enough. Silent and unwelcome, the past intruded, slipping by his defenses and swirling through his mind like thick fog.
He didn’t even have to close his eyes to remember. The image was so clear, so striking, it was almost like looking at a life-sized photograph. He could see Dana in black jeans and a fuzzy peach sweater the exact color of her tempting mouth, clutching her books to her chest. She’d been all of fifteen, a sophomore in high school. Big eyes and a smile that lit up the room.
He’d told himself she was too young. After all, he was a senior, only a few months shy of graduation. But something about her had appealed to him. Maybe it was the way she blushed every time he caught her looking at him. Or the faint stutter when she’d managed to return his casual “hi” after the championship basketball game.
He told himself not to go there—the past would offer nothing but heartache. The past was finished and couldn’t be changed. He was ten kinds of fool for wanting to relive it. Still, he relaxed in his chair and closed his eyes.
He could smell the rain of the afternoon. Ironically, it had been April, as it was now...only a lifetime ago. He recalled standing by his locker as one girl after the other said hello to him. Even then he’d had an undeserved reputation for having a way with “chicks.” They, his friends joked, playing on the word, “flocked to him.” At seventeen, he hadn’t understood the phenomenon any more than he did now, but back then it had seemed more of a blessing than a curse. He could get as many dates as he wanted, with any girl he wanted. After taking out a few of the prettiest ones, he found he needed more than someone to look at He wanted to care about the girl he was with; he wanted to be intrigued. Which was why he’d finally gathered the courage to talk to Dana.
Trevor smiled at how nervous he’d been. He’d felt terror that she would notice his shaking and sweating or that his voice would betray him by cracking. She’d been standing with her two close friends, Katie and Lee, friends who were still important to her. The three girls had looked at him, but he’d seen only Dana.
“Hi,”
