Then there would be the equally quiet click of the bathroom door, water running, the toilet flushing. Sometimes he’d hesitate outside her room again. And at last his door would close. Silence would last for a couple of minutes, during which she imagined him stripping. Then the bed would creak as he lay down.
By that time—she couldn’t help herself—she’d be so turned on she could hardly bear the weight of the covers. She could feel the dampness between her legs, the need clenching in her belly. Staying still nearly killed her, but if she so much as moved restlessly, her bed would creak and he would hear and he might know that she was lying awake thinking about him.
Wednesday she had less success than usual avoiding him. It was drizzling, which meant all of them except Sorrel, who’d gone to school, were stuck inside. Lia pretended to be busy with housework for an hour, but really the house had never been cleaner, thanks to days of evasive maneuvers. Then she insisted on an hour sitting at the kitchen table with the boys working on a math chapter from their respective textbooks. Finally she succumbed and agreed to play Monopoly with Conall and the boys.
They let her be the banker. Walker turned out to have a ruthless streak almost as deep and long as Conall’s, while Brendan didn’t get lucky rolls and Lia was—she had to admit—too softhearted. Even so, they all had fun. Her heart ached at the boys’ giggles and whoops and Conall’s lazy grins, many directed at her. So much fun, she was sorry when she had to admit to bankruptcy and left the two remaining real estate moguls to duke it out while she started dinner. By that time, Sorrel was home and happily ensconced on the sofa behind Walker to root him on.
“Why him? Why not me?” Conall was complaining when Lia left the room.
The good mood lasted through dinner but was killed when Conall’s cell phone buzzed before he’d finished dessert. He glanced at it, said, “Jeff needs me,” and disappeared with startling haste.
Was the indefinable something finally happening? The something that would mean she could have her house back? She made the evening as normal as she could for the kids while living with a clutch of anxiety in her chest so big and dense, she suspected it would form a dark shadow on an X-ray.
Sleep was more elusive than ever. Didn’t Conall know they would all worry? Would it have killed him to pop down and say, “False alarm?” Or “I’ve got what I need to get a warrant, and we’ll be out of your hair in no time?”
She woke abruptly and lay rigid, knowing she’d heard…a whimper? Or was that part of a dream? No, there was another muffled cry, and she jumped from bed and hurried to the hall, where she had to stand still until the next sad sound came. Sorrel’s room, not the boys’.
Lia pushed open the door. “Sorrel? Honey?”
The teenager moved restlessly. “No.” A gasp. “No, please! Please! No.”
Lia went to the bed and sat, laying a gentle hand on her foster daughter’s back. “Wake up, honey. It’s a bad dream. Only a dream.”
“Mommy?” Sorrel whispered.
“It’s Lia.” She moved her hand in a soothing circle, murmuring, “Shh, you were having a nightmare.”
She kept talking for a couple of minutes in a near sing-song, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. Gradually Sorrel’s body relaxed beneath Lia’s hands, and finally her breathing deepened. Lia kept sitting there, waiting, but the girl’s sleep was peaceful now.
Lia slipped out of the room and eased the door shut.
A deep, low voice asked, “Is she all right?”
Lia squeaked in alarm and swung around.
Conall’s big hands gripped her arms. “Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry, I thought you’d heard me.”
“No.” Her heart was slamming.
“What’s wrong with Sorrel?”
“A nightmare. She kept saying, ‘No, no, please.’”
“You don’t know her history?”
Lia hesitated. “Let’s get away from her door.”
He let go of one of her arms but maintained his hold on the other. It was only a few steps to her bedroom door, and once they reached it Conall steered her inside.
“Let me turn on the light,” she said. The memory of their other encounter in the dark hall was too vivid. He let her go, and she went to her bedside to switch on the lamp.