A Perfect Homecoming. Lisa Dyson
kept a tight rein on her own emotions. Act cool. “Whatever.”
“No, not ‘whatever.’” His voice rose in volume as he set his coffee down too fast. It sloshed over the top and onto the table. He turned to the sink for a paper towel, jerking the roll so hard that the sheets unraveled. He tore off a single sheet and cleaned up the mess in one infuriated swipe.
He held the used towel over the trash can and glared at Ashleigh. “I get why you’re here. Your sister needs you. Your whole family needs you.” He slammed the lid closed on the trash can. “Just don’t take your failings out on the rest of us.”
Ashleigh stood so quickly her chair nearly tipped over. “My failings?” Such nerve. So he did blame her for the miscarriages. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
He shrugged. “Physically.”
What did he want from her? Didn’t he realize how difficult this was? Coming back to the town where her life had fallen apart?
She stepped to the opposite counter, her back to him. A single tear rolled down her cheek—she’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing her wipe it away.
“I get it.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “You don’t want me here.”
“If only that were true.”
Before she could spin around and ask what he meant, he and his coffee had vanished from the kitchen.
CHAPTER THREE
“THIS IS PURR-FECT,” Paula said on a sigh to Kyle, and took another sip of her tea. “Thank you.”
“Ashleigh’s idea.” He spoke more harshly than he intended. No need to take his frustration out on his sister-in-law. “Hungry?”
She narrowed her eyes and tipped her head. “I could eat. The kids are probably hungry, too.”
“Anything in particular?”
“A couple of friends stopped by with casseroles, but I’m not sure what’s there. I told them to stick the food in the fridge.” Paula set her cup on the bedside table and straightened herself up against the pillows. “Amazing how quickly news gets around this town.”
“Tell me about it. I’ll go check it out and let you know what’s there.” He was about to leave but stopped at Paula’s next words.
“You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” Paula’s expectant look told him she didn’t want to be the only adult in the house with Ashleigh.
“Sure.” He couldn’t hold back his grin. He gave her a wink and chuckled. “As long as you promise not to let your sister get to you.”
She sighed. “I’m trying.” Then she groaned and threw her head back. “Believe me, I’m trying.”
“I know this has been a stressful day, but everything’s fine now.” He stepped closer, touched her shoulder to comfort her as he would his sisters. That was what he’d always considered Paula—whether or not he was married to her sister or she was married to his brother. “Just close your eyes for a few minutes and breathe.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She giggled, did as she was told, but then opened one eye to a squint. “That’s not the first time today I’ve been told to do that. Maybe you and Ashleigh have more in common than you think.” She shut her eye again and leaned back as if cutting off any retort he might have.
“Maybe.” They just weren’t the things that allowed them to be in the same room together without friction.
Paula may have taken his side in the divorce, but he was acutely aware that she’d never given up hope that he and Ashleigh would reunite.
He turned to leave but not before her lips turned up slightly in amusement.
Kyle didn’t know what else to say, so he went directly to the kitchen. No sign of Ashleigh or her tea. He opened the fridge to discover three casseroles, as well as a salad.
He removed the food and set it on the counter for a better look. Lasagna, chicken enchiladas and some kind of mystery pasta casserole labeled with cooking directions. Not caring which they ate, he decided to leave it up to Paula. He strode out of the kitchen and turned right to go down the hall, nearly knocking Ashleigh down in the process. Instinctively, he grabbed her upper arms to keep her from falling.
“Sorry.” They both spoke at the same time.
Kyle hadn’t been this close to Ashleigh in years. He hadn’t touched her bare arms, inhaled her distinctive scent or seen those blue eyes up close in so long. Their azure color always reminded him of the island paradise where they’d honeymooned.
As brand-new doctors, they couldn’t afford an expensive vacation. At the time, he had just been hired by the Grand Oaks Community Hospital as an E.R. doctor and Ashleigh’s dream of becoming a partner in her father’s pediatric practice was about to come to fruition.
Both had agreed they wouldn’t spend money they didn’t have. So when they discovered their siblings had pooled their money to give them a honeymoon as a wedding present, they were ecstatic.
The trip had been idyllic. No work, no worries, only each other. Swimming and snorkeling during the day, dinner alfresco on their private balcony in the evening and making love whenever the mood struck.
If only they had been able to avoid the devastation and heartbreak that followed.
“Kyle?” Ashleigh’s whisper interrupted his reverie. He immediately released her, dropping his hands to his sides as if burned.
“Sorry.” He stepped back and searched for something more to say. He rubbed his palms against the outside of his thighs to erase the tactile memory of her. “I was going to ask Paula which casserole she’d like for dinner. Maybe you should see if there’s one you prefer.”
Ashleigh replied by bobbing her head as she walked past him into the kitchen.
Fool! How could he have allowed her to see him so vulnerable?
He strode to Paula’s room and rapped louder than he should have on the doorjamb.
Paula’s head jerked in his direction. “Is everything okay?” She set aside the magazine she’d been flipping through.
“Yes.” He paused. “No.” Another pause. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Ah.” Paula’s eyebrows rose. “Ashleigh strikes again.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He racked his brain to remember the choices for dinner and finally recited the list. “Do you have a preference?”
“Enchiladas sound good.” She patted her abdomen and referred to her baby. “Bam-Bam likes spicy food. Too bad I can’t have a margarita with it, but Jean said she made some corn bread. I think it’s in a pan on the counter and there should be a salad in the fridge, too.”
“Sounds good.”
Kyle returned to the kitchen where Ashleigh was turning on the oven.
“I was just preheating to three-fifty,” she said. “I didn’t know which one we were cooking.”
He took the enchilada casserole from the counter and put it into the oven, setting a timer according to the written instructions. He found the corn bread and pulled out the salad. A noise behind him was a reminder that Ashleigh was still in the kitchen.
She’d gotten out plates, silverware and napkins, butter for the corn bread and dressing for the salad. Now she sat at the table, hands folded.
“Kyle?” Her tone was soft.
He gave her his attention, saying nothing.
“At the hospital today,” she began, visibly swallowing. “I heard some talk about a lawsuit. Are you in