“Not as fun,” she told him, as if she could read his thoughts. Annabelle studied the small package carefully. He’d already gotten her the best present she could think of, but unfortunately, as things stood right now, she wasn’t sure she would ever get to see her Harley Night Rod again.
On that note, she pulled the top of the envelope away and tipped it over onto her palm. Two booklets of tickets spilled out and into her hand. She blinked at them and then turned them over to read the writing on the front covers.
“Holy mother,” she whispered. “No way you got me season Wild tickets.” Her mouth dropped open and she read the covers again. “No way!” She stood then, beaming brightly, her smile ear to ear. She held the tickets out at arm’s length, turning them left and then right in her hands. And then she drew them close again, holding them over her heart.
She looked up at Jack, whose own heart was hot in his chest.
“Thank you so much, Jack. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to cheer on my team in person.” She’d always been there, in some way, when she could manage it. Either at the gym, in front of their big-screen TV. Or outside the X-cel Arena, cheering along with the other left-over schmucks who hadn’t been able to afford tickets. She was always there for her team in spirit, at least. But now she could be there for real. The Wild were going to win the Stanley cup this season. She felt it in her blood. And she would be there to watch them drink champagne from it.
She held the books out, separating the two. Two books of tickets. Two people. “I suppose the stipulation is that you accompany me?” she asked, her eyes twinkling wickedly.
He grinned. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” That’s why he’d purchased two books. The truth was, he didn’t care a lot for hockey, but for the fact that Annabelle loved it so much – and her enthusiasm was contagious.
She stared at the tickets a few seconds more and then sighed a contented sigh, her smile turning dreamy.
“Happy birthday, luv.” He said softly, suddenly all too aware of a growing need within him. It was her smile. He loved making her happy. It made him happy.
God, she made him happy.
And he wanted more. But a gift was a not a gift if something was expected in return.
Annabelle left the bed side and carefully placed the tickets in the top drawer of the dresser against the wall. Then she turned to face him as he stood and ran a hand through his hair. He smiled at her and motioned toward the door, indicating that everyone beyond it was probably worried about her, especially Cassie.
But just as he took a step in that direction, Annabelle lunged away from the dresser to knock him back onto the bed. It wasn’t an easy thing to maneuver. He was a big man, filled with ripped muscles from head to toe, and she’d had to put a lot of force behind her movement. The action had been made even more difficult to execute by the fact that she needed to be sure she didn’t shoulder him in the side, where he’d been shot – and she, herself, was injured.
She failed miserably. Both of them went down square in the middle of the mattress, but among groans and grunts of pain.
They laid there for a stunned moment, and then Jack laughed, wrapping one thick arm around her as he rolled them over, pinning her underneath him.
“Practicing up for the games, luv? Please tell me you don’t plan on jumping down onto the ice and putting any fans into the glass.”
Annabelle laughed and raised her head to capture his lips in hers. The kiss took Jack by surprise.
But only for a fraction of a second.
And then he took charge.
Chapter Thirty
Dylan eyed the door behind which Jack and Annabelle had disappeared several hours before.
Beatrice saw the worried expression on the kid’s face and stood up to make her way over to him. “She’s okay, dear. Trust me.”
She smiled a knowing smile and Dylan blinked. And then he blanched.
And Beatrice laughed. Cassie bit her lip to keep from doing the same.
Dylan looked away. And then he sat back in the couch and stared at the hard wood floor. He was too lost in the deep murkiness of his own thoughts to surrender to their teasing. Something was bothering him and it wasn’t the obvious.
He glanced up at the door again and swallowed. “What happened, anyway?” he asked, thinking of the sadness that had come over Annabelle when Thane had reminded her of her birthday. “Why was she so… Upset?”
Cassie looked down at her hands then, all traces of a smile leaving her expression. She leaned forward, setting her Diet Coke beside a paper plate containing a half-eaten slice of pizza. The antique coffee table was covered with the remains of the lunch they had ordered and eaten since Annabelle and Jack had gone off on their own.
Cassie leaned back and looked thoughtful then. She was unaware that everyone in the room was watching her now.
“I suppose there’s no harm in you knowing.” She spoke softly, but her voice carried clearly across the room. She stood up and nodded at Dylan. After a brief pause, he took the hint and stood as well. Then Cassie led him out of the study, down the hall toward the first-level bedrooms and the staircase that led to the second floor.
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side, his gaze narrowing on the young woman as she led the Anderson kid away. Cassie Reid had no way of knowing it, but the truth was, Sam knew all about Annabelle’s secret. There were few secrets that Samuel Price didn’t know. And he found it very interesting any time people chose to give those secrets away.
Down the hall, Cassie led Dylan into one of the empty rooms and closed the door behind her. She turned to Dylan. “We’re sort of in this mess together and we all have our own secrets. She knows yours and she trusts you, doesn’t she?”
Dylan nodded, not understanding.
“Trust comes with knowing that the person you trust has empathy for you.” She explained, speaking in little more than a whisper. “Annabelle knows what you’ve been through. So, she knows you’ll be there for her. That you’ll understand what she’s going through should anything happen to her.”
Again, Dylan nodded.
“And you should know what she’s been through,” she continued. “For the same reason.”
Dylan swallowed now, shoving his hands into his pockets, his expression turning very serious. He was hearing what Cassie said with more than his ears now. His heart was listening too.
“Annabelle wasn’t born an only child,” Cassie began. “She had a twin brother. His name was Daniel.”
Dylan’s eyes widened. His pallor turned white, and then even gray. Cassie could understand why.
Annabelle didn’t have a twin brother now.
“Among other things, Annabelle’s father worked as a volunteer fire fighter in Lakeview, Louisiana. You know – one of the neighborhoods that really got ripped to shreds by Katrina.”
Dylan nodded, numbly.
“Long before Katrina came through, on their eleventh birthday, Annabelle’s father took her and Daniel to work with him. They wanted to see ‘Big Red,’ the new engine at the fire house, and since it was their birthday and all....” Cassie paused and made her way to a bed nearby, then took a seat, folding and clasping her hands in her lap. “While they were there, a call came in. A small plane had gone down in Lake Pontchartrain. It was on fire and, apparently,” she swallowed, clearing her throat. “Apparently, there were people trapped inside and the plane was very slowly sinking.”
Oh, Crap, Dylan thought. I’m not sure I want to hear this…
“To make a long story short, Ann’s dad took off and, Daniel, who was pretty sure he was Superman, snuck off to go with him. Mr. Drake didn’t know his son had tagged along. I guess he hid on the truck somewhere.” Cassie shook her head, as if watching the scene take place in her own mind.