“Yes, that was kind of him to wait. Would have been damned awkward if she and I had still been fucking.”
She took a deep breath, her lip pursed. “He’s changed, Trevor darling. I promise.”
Trevor assumed a neutral expression. “I don’t really care one way or the other. When are the two of you leaving, by the way?”
He picked up his phone and texted Allie, wondering how the talk had gone with her father. Probably a disaster—much like the conversation he was having right now. Parents were nothing but a pain in the ass.
“Not until after the wedding.”
“Mother please, we both know there’s not going to be a wedding. Go back to England or, better yet, Italy. You’ve not had an Italian yet, and you do love the warm weather.” He picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee.
“I think you and Allie should have a Christmas wedding. Think of how much fun that would be. She could wear a white dress trimmed in fur.” Mags clapped her hands.
Trevor choked, coughing for a full minute. “How did we get from your marrying an Italian to my marrying Allie? Which is never going to happen, by the way.” He set his cup down with a little more force than was necessary.
“Why not? She’s a lovely girl. She’s caring and kind. She’ll give me beautiful grandchildren.”
Trevor eyed her with irritation. “You were a dreadful mother. What makes you think you’d be a better grandmother?”
Mags winced, almost imperceptibly, but Trevor saw it. He’d hurt her. Too bad. She’d never given a damn about him. He rubbed at his sternum and pulled a roll of antacids from the desk drawer, popping a couple in his mouth. This fucking ache in the middle of his chest was growing tiresome. “I need to get back to work.”
“Yes, of course, darling.” She rose from the chair and grabbed the dress before she exited the office.
Trevor watched her go and pushed any guilt he was feeling to the side. What did he have to feel guilty for? After all, he hadn’t abandoned her.
His phone vibrated. He glanced at the brief text from Allie. Things hadn’t gone well with her father. He wasn’t surprised. No man liked to be told whom he should date.
***
Allie’s mind went over her father’s words. He wanted to be happy. Of course he did. But at what price? Brynn had two and a half more years at home. She shouldn’t have to spend it with her dad’s girlfriend. Seeing the woman at school and home? Every kid’s nightmare. Why couldn’t her dad understand that? His newfound happiness came at the expense of his daughters.
Allie rubbed her forehead as she drove. She still needed to find out Brad’s last name and where Monica was staying. Trevor had hired a detective. Maybe he had some information by now.
When Allie arrived at the mansion, she met Frances in the foyer. “Did Mags want to go shopping today?” Aside from the actual shopping, Allie enjoyed spending time with Trevor’s mom. She was funny and charming, despite the constant wedding talk.
“Mrs. Mags is in the garden.”
“Thank you.” Allie wandered outside and found Mags sitting on a bench under an arbor covered with bright pink flowers. This early in the morning, the temperature was mild and the sun felt good on her skin. “These are pretty.” Allie touched a whisper-soft, cone-shaped petal.
“It’s a pink trumpet vine,” Mags said. She seemed distracted as she stared blindly at the tinkling fountain in front of her.
Allie hovered near the arbor for a minute. When Mags didn’t acknowledge her, she moved toward the house. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“No, I’m sorry, dearest. Do come sit.” She patted the bench. “But I warn you, I’m not very good company today.”
Allie settled in next to Mags. The garden was so peaceful. She could see why Trevor kept it, despite the cost. “It’s beautiful here. Almost doesn’t seem real.”
“Yes, quite.”
Allie closed her eyes, listened to the birds chirp, the splash of the fountain. Inhaling deeply, she sighed. She could almost relax—if only she could forget her problems.
“He hates me, you know.”
Opening her eyes, Allie turned to Mags. “What?”
“Trevor. He hates me, well, really, both of us. I can’t blame him. We’ve been quite useless as parents.”
Allie reached out and touched Mags’s hand. “He doesn’t hate you.”
“We probably deserve it. I am worried for him though, that he’ll wind up bitter and alone. But you’re good for him, Allie. You’re the light to his darkness.” Mags squeezed Allie’s hand and looked at her with a sad smile. “Please don’t hurt him. His heart is very fragile, you see.”
Fragile? Trevor? He was sarcastic and uncaring. He was a hardened businessman who got what he wanted.
Then why had he let Brynn stay? Why did he offer to find Brad?
Because he wasn’t totally hardened. That didn’t make him fragile, though. Just made him…Trevor.
Withdrawing her hand, Allie shook her head. “Trevor and I aren’t like that.” She contemplated the fountain, some kind of sea serpent with a twisted body and water shooting out of its mouth. “I mean, we don’t have that kind of a relationship.”
“Don’t let him fool you, dearest. He cares for you. I can tell.”
“Well, I think he cares for you too, Mags.”
“All right,” Mags sniffed, “that’s enough. Self-pity is dreary and I’m tired of it. I think we should go cake tasting. I want something spectacular, with so much fondant, my teeth will ache.” She stood and looked around. “You’re right, it is beautiful. My son has very good taste.”
Allie stood as well and smoothed down her skirt. “Do I have time to stop in and see Trevor first?”
“Yes. I’ll get ready and meet you in the foyer in an hour.”
They parted once they entered the house, and Allie made her way to Trevor’s office, but for once he wasn’t there. She found Frances in the Asian room.
“Is Trevor home?”
The maid adjusted a sword on the wall, then shifted a porcelain bowl to the left. “He’s at the indoor pool.”
“I didn’t know there was an indoor pool.”
“In the very back of the garden, toward the bougainvillea and to the left. It’s a glassed-in structure.”
Allie really needed to take time and explore the garden—the rest of the house too. There were probably a dozen rooms she had never seen. Trevor’s room in particular. But surely she would have seen a bloody glassed-in pool. Uh-oh. She was picking up Englishisms.
She walked outside, took a left at the red bougainvillea, which climbed up the brick wall. She picked her way through the narrow flagstone pathway and finally saw it—a glass rectangle, completely surrounded by shading palm trees, like an oasis.
When she stepped inside, the warm, moist air hit her and the smell of chlorine was strong. She watched Trevor cut through the bright blue water with powerful strokes. A pair of lounge chairs and a table stood off to the side, and Allie made herself comfortable until he was finished.
He must have seen her out of the corner of his eye because as soon as he touched the end of the pool closest to her, he dipped his hair back in the water, then leaned his forearms on the concrete. “Take your clothes off and come for a swim.”
Rivulets of water slid down his broad shoulders and she was more than tempted. “I can’t,” she said, forcing her gaze from his chest to his face. “I have a date with Mags.”
He rolled his eyes and sank beneath the surface. He reemerged a few seconds later and hoisted himself out of the pool.
Allie followed his movements as he toweled his chest. He rubbed circles around his pecs, his nipples were hard, and she remembered flicking her tongue over them the other night. He had groaned when she did it and demanded she do it again. Her eyes dipped lower. The navy swim trunks rode low over his hips, showing off the hard ridges of his abdomen. Her fingers itched to touch him again.