Love By Accident Read online

Page 3


  Lauren felt the color drain from her face. "That's not funny."

  He crossed his arms over his chest, braced his legs apart. "It wasn't a joke."

  He towered over her, or maybe it just felt like it because of the energy pulsing around him. Or maybe it was because he was right, she had deserved more than a three-hundred dollar fine for killing Gil. The coffee she'd had that morning rose to the back of her throat.

  His mobile phone trilled from his truck. He looked from the cab back to her and shook his head. "Shit. Don't g--"

  "Answer the phone, Matt," Lauren said. "I know you have a lot to say, but this isn't the time or place for this conversation."

  Clutching her hazing stick, Lauren headed toward home.

  "Don't you dare walk away from me again."

  The tone, the accusation, the raw fury in his eyes when she looked at him, was exactly what she'd feared most. She couldn't help feeling a little glad that she'd been given another reprieve before he unleashed the rest of it on her. But she also understood his anger. And because she did, she stopped, forced herself to face him.

  "Matt, I live here and now so do you. I'm not running, but I'm not having this discussion in the middle of the street." His phone shrieked again. "You'd better answer it."

  "This isn't the end of it, Lauren."

  Her smile was sad. Sad for everything that had happened, and what she knew was coming.

  "I know, Matt. I know."

  ***

  It was shortly after lunch by the time Lauren headed to Ted's house to help load the moving truck. Matt had followed her home. She'd watched him through the peep hole, truck idling at the curb, and her stomach had churned. She'd been so sure he'd storm up to her house and demand answers. Instead, after about ten minutes of hearing nothing but her kitchen tap drip, he'd driven off.

  Because she thought he might yet come back, she'd waited on pins and needles for the rest of the morning. He hadn't, but the time had allowed her to form a plan. Matt was after answers, and he was entitled to them. She intended to give him as many as she could to satisfy what he wanted to know. But she wouldn't say it all. She'd hurt him enough already. There wasn't anything to be gained by telling him everything. Ignorance, as they said, was bliss.

  When she arrived at Ted's, the long white moving truck filled the curb space in front of his house. The ramp at the back of the truck was down to allow for easy loading. Behind the ramp, allowing plenty of room to load, was a black Corvette. Lauren skirted the cardboard boxes stacked on the edge of the lawn. Her gaze kept going back to the Corvette. Who did Ted know that owned such a car?

  The screen door was wedged open with a hazing stick and the red and yellow ribbons poked out between the door and the frame. She followed Ted's voice up the three steps into the country kitchen he'd bragged about having re-finished. He had an elbow on the island and a map spread out before him. His wife, Joy, was standing behind him with her chin resting on his shoulder, her arms around his waist.

  "Why don't we stop in Kamloops for the night? We don't need to rush, Ted. Let's enjoy the ride," Joy said, sounding like a woman who planned on living her retirement to its fullest.

  "I have a better idea," Lauren added, "why don't you just stay here?"

  "Hey kiddo." Ted lifted his head from the map. "Glad you came."

  "Yeah, because you needed cheap help."

  "Cheap? The other guys were free," he grinned.

  "What guys? I didn't see any?" Lauren asked.

  "Denis, Nick, a few from work. They left after the heavy stuff, so you timed your arrival perfectly. All that's left are boxes."

  Joy embraced Lauren. "Don't mind him, the movers did most of it. Far as I saw, all him and the guys did was talk big and pat each other on the back."

  "What time are you leaving?" Lauren asked.

  "Furniture's loaded, other than these stools. There's still some stuff to haul up from the basement, the boxes outside and the fragile stuff I want to put in our truck. I figure the movers can roll out within the hour and we'll follow behind them shortly after," Ted explained.

  "Well, since I hardly have any time left, I need to go next door, say my goodbyes," Joy said.

  "Tell Howard I'll be by, too, before we go."

  "I will. Thanks for stopping in and helping, sweetie," Joy said, giving Lauren a hug before she slipped out the front door.

  Lauren watched Joy go, a tug around her heart. On the basement stairs came the pounding of quick steps, as though taken two at a time.

  "Looks like they're working on the downstairs now," Lauren said.

  "Ted, the movers said they need a screwdriver to--" Matt stopped in his tracks when he saw Lauren. His eyes narrowed.

  Lauren waited a moment for her heart to get back in its proper place. "Hi, Matt," she managed, wondering when she was going to get used to seeing him again. Surely once they had a chance to talk, her heart would stop leaping every time she saw him. "Well, I'd better make myself useful."

  Matt didn't move and the doorway wasn't wide. Lauren stopped when she reached it, wiped her damp hands down her legs. His gaze tracked her movement, lingered on her hips, then met hers again. Lauren inched her way forward. Hugo Boss teased her senses. Still he didn't step aside.

  She'd spent years with Matt, knew him well and loved him like a brother. He'd always been a little goofy, but he'd been cute, too. Wavy brown hair, a charming smile, and those brilliant blue eyes. It had only been four years and yet the goofy jokester she'd known had been replaced with a more mature, slightly harder man.

  It wasn't only the muscles he seemed to have built since then, it was the little lines around his eyes. The seriousness in his eyes. The, well, edge, he hadn't had before. It had to be the edge, Lauren decided, that had her reacting so uncharacteristically to him.

  Matt meant to crowd her a little. Since seeing her yesterday she'd called the shots, she'd had all the control and he was determined to get it back. Yet as she stilled before him, as her lips parted and he heard her breath pass between them, he knew his little tactic hadn't served any purpose other than to reinforce what he'd suspected. He still wanted her.

  The realization stung his pride. After years of being friends and pretending that was all he felt as he dated other girls, after everything he'd been through since the accident, she still had him by the balls.

  He backed up, let her pass. Out on the lawn she struggled to pick up a box which was clearly too heavy for her. She shifted, planted her feet and, with bent knees, picked it up. She wavered, her face flushed with the effort, but she managed to get it into the trailer. He knew her stubborn streak. He wondered where it had been when she'd up and left him helpless in the hospital.

  "I take it you two haven't talked yet," Ted asked.

  "Nope," Matt answered as Lauren stepped from the trailer and grabbed another box.

  "I did an internet search, after our talk yesterday. There was a whole article on the crash. They even had a picture of the car." He shook his head. "She never said a word. Not about the accident, nor about her training. It explains a few things, though."

  "Like what?" Matt asked, shifting his attention to Ted.

  "Like there are always shadows behind her smiles. She never talks about anyone but her sister. She leads a pretty solitary life."

  "That's her choice."

  "You're not going to give an inch, are you?"

  Matt squared his shoulders. "No, I'm not. I was told I may never walk again but I proved them wrong. I was determined to prove them wrong. Whatever life Lauren is leading, she's chosen it. Now, if you want to get out of here on time, I'd better get loading."

  The fog had burned off around noon and now the snow-capped peaks reached granite fingers for blue sky. The sun was warm for October.

  "Here, I'll help you," Matt said when Lauren struggled to maintain a grip on a box.

  "I've got it."

  His gaze met hers. "Well, now we both do."

  He backed into the trailer and together they set
the cardboard down. When their hands were empty, they faced each other awkwardly. She had grown her hair since the accident. The blond ponytail reached well past her shoulders and her bangs were just long enough to touch her lashes. The grey eyes that used to sparkle and shine now stared back at him hesitantly.

  Lauren dropped her gaze to her shoes. She shuffled foot to foot.

  "Something on your mind?"

  When her eyes looked at him all he could think of was damn Ted. The man was right, she did have shadows lurking and if Matt wasn't careful, he'd be swayed by them.

  "I never said it last night, but I'm really glad you can walk."

  He scoffed. Too little too late. "Why, because it eases your guilt, knowing you didn't abandon a paralyzed man?"

  "Yes, partly."

  His chest deflated. He'd never expected her to admit it.

  "But mostly because you didn't deserve what happened. You'd finally gotten your dream job and had your whole future ahead of you."

  "We all did. Even Gil."

  She ducked her head. Saying nothing else, she walked from the trailer and grabbed another box, one she could easily manage by herself. Confounded, Matt remained in the trailer. It wasn't only that she looked different, with her longer hair. She'd lost weight. He remembered her as curvy, a nice ass and a chest most men, including himself, fantasized over.

  Though she still looked good in jeans, she must have dropped at least one size. Her baggy windbreaker didn't allow him to see much of her chest, so he'd have to reserve judgment on that for now.

  Still it went deeper than her appearance. She'd always had a mouth on her, loved to tease and kid around. Plus she could take it as well as she dished it. He wasn't sure what to make of this new Lauren.

  When he emerged from the musty smelling truck, the movers were hauling the last of the stuff from the basement. There were maybe six boxes left on the lawn.

  Ted came out of the house, two beer bottles in hand.

  "You must have read my mind," Matt said and accepted the frosty bottle. "Looks like we're almost done here."

  "Hard to believe so many years of living can fit into one truck."

  Matt watched a wispy cloud skim a jagged peak. "It's not the stuff that matters, Ted. It's what you do with it." He'd chosen to live his life to its fullest, to pursue his dream. Lauren, on the other hand, had--

  Shit. Matt sighed, frustrated and angry. He'd just noticed Lauren was missing.

  Ted put a knowing hand on his shoulder.

  "She said her goodbyes to me and Joy in the house."

  "Dammit, she keeps running away from me."

  "She didn't run. She told me to tell you she'll be waiting for you at her place."

  FOUR

  Firm raps beat on her door. In another time they could have been drums announcing war. In a way it was, Lauren thought as she made her way through the small living room into the equally compact kitchen. In wars everyone got hurt. Either physically or mentally the ravages of battle left their mark. Lauren braced her shoulders, prepared to take hers.

  "Lauren, open up!" Bang, bang, bang.

  "I'm coming." She blew her bangs out of her eyes then swiped at them when they just fell right back into place. Her heart was thumping in her chest and her mouth was dry. Her hands shook when the door squeaked open.

  Ready or not...

  The darkness behind him melded with his black hair and his usually bright blue eyes were equally shadowed. His jaw set, he marched into the tiny entranceway, filling the narrow space and forcing Lauren to back up. With his gaze firmly on hers he reached behind him. The lock snapped into place.

  "Is there a back door I need to worry about? Any windows?"

  "Matt, I invited you. Why would I run out?"

  "Who knows what motivates you anymore? I sure as hell don't," he growled.

  "Well, I'm not going anywhere."

  She led him through the kitchen, away from the dripping faucet, into her sparsely furnished living room. She picked the glider rocker, the one piece of furniture she'd contributed since the house had come mostly furnished, leaving Matt to either pace the worn green carpet or settle into the low-back, hard-as-a-rock couch. He opted to stand.

  She knew by the energy he radiated that he was an F-five tornado about to be let loose. And like it or not, she'd decided to stay in his path.

  Surprisingly, he said nothing. He simply stared at her, his eyes bored into hers. His breathing was deep and fast.

  Lauren twisted her hands together. "I'm sorry I ran on out you at the cafĂ©. Ted had just told me he was leaving and then suddenly you were there." She lifted her shoulders on a sigh. "It was a lot to take in and I needed some time."

  "Time for what? To get used to seeing someone you supposedly considered a friend at one time?"

  Lauren jumped to her feet. "You were one of my best friends, you know that!"

  "Do I? How am I supposed to know? By the way you stood by my side when they said I'd suffered spinal injuries? By the way you cheered me through all those fucking hours of physical therapy?"

  "I couldn't stay. I thought I'd paralyzed you! And with--with everything else--it was too much."

  "So you tucked your tail and ran. Ran and never looked back. I'm not confined to a bed and unconscious now, Lauren."

  "I know and I already told you I'm happy you can walk."

  "That's not good enough!"

  Lauren threw up her hands. "What else do you want me to say, Matt? Because I get the feeling no matter what it is, it won't be good enough."

  He jammed his hands into his hair.

  "We were friends, dammit. You, me and Gil, loyal no matter what. Friends no matter what. Jesus," he shook his head, "did I dream it all? Didn't we help each other through exams and classes? Didn't we all move in together to save money during our second year of college? We all moved to Waterton so we could be together, for Christ's sake!"

  "I know, I remember."

  "Then why the fuck did you leave us both?"

  Her breath hitched on the pain that his words caused. Of course she wasn't surprised by Matt's perspective, since he didn't know the whole truth, but he made it sound like it had been easy to leave. Like she'd simply shrugged her shoulders and left to go on a holiday or some such thing.

  It hadn't been easy, or simple. It had been about survival. Lauren looked Matt in the eye, not an easy task when he was scowling at her. "At the hospital, when I was told about you two, I wanted to die. You can't imagine the guilt. You two had known each other since elementary school. Then I met you guys in college and you're right, the three of us formed a great bond. I cherished both of you." And she had, right to that night four years ago, when everything had shattered.

  "Yeah, your actions really spoke of devotion."

  She wanted to reach for him, but stayed well back. It had been her choice to leave; it was up to Matt if he wanted her back in his life or not.

  "I didn't know how to go on. I knew it was a matter of hours until your parents showed up, until--" she struggled to find enough saliva to swallow. "Until..."

  His gaze narrowed and grabbed onto her.

  "His name was Gil, Lauren. Gil."

  She nodded in acknowledgement, yet she couldn't say the name. She hadn't said it aloud in four years.

  "I didn't know how I'd face his parents." She held out her hands. "How do you apologize for killing someone's son, Matt? Or how do you tell your best friend's parents that you've left their son crippled? I couldn't! I'm sorry you don't understand, and I hope you never do, but I couldn't face them."

  "Or me!"

  "Or you!" she yelled back, tears filling her eyes as the feelings of that night pressed hard against her heart.

  His gaze battled hers until he broke contact. When he turned for the kitchen, Lauren felt like a popped balloon. Sagging, she dropped into her rocking chair, wiped her wet cheeks.

  From the other room she heard the fridge open, then the door slam shut. She heard him pace, heard him breathe. Not long after,
he came back, settled himself on the couch. His hands hung between his bent knees.

  "They kept me sedated for a few days. By then it was too late; I'd missed the funeral."

  Regret and, if possible, more guilt twisted in her stomach. "I'm sorry. That must have broken your heart."

  His eyes whipped to hers. "The chance to say goodbye was stolen from me, but you had the chance. You could have gone, yet nobody saw you there."

  Since she'd already tried to explain how impossible it had been for her to stay around, she simply acknowledged his words with a nod.

  "I was surprised when Gil's parents never filed a civil suit toward you."

  Lauren couldn't have been more shocked. "Because you would have in their shoes?"

  "It would have been hard not to."

  If there had been any doubt about how he truly felt about her, there wasn't any longer. She'd expected as much given their recent meetings, but the truth of it left her reeling.

  "I pled guilty. I accepted the responsibility."

  "Yeah," he guffawed. "Takes a lot of guts to pay a small fine and skip town. I don't know how you managed it."

  "What do you want from me?" Lauren demanded, once again coming to her feet.

  "Everything! I want to know what happened that night. I want the chance to say goodbye to Gil. I want my friends back!"

  She wanted her friends back too, with every breath she took she wished she could go back in time and change history.

  "If I could change it..."

  His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed. "Then how about you tell me what happened? You haven't talked about the accident at all and I don't remember any of it. What the hell happened? How did you lose control of the damn car? What don't I know?"

  She stepped around the chair, dug her fingers into the back of it. "N-nothing!" God, he couldn't know, Gil had said Matt hadn't known. But she'd hesitated too long.

  "Bullshit."

  Visions of that night bulleted through her brain. She shook her head to send them back where they belong.

  "It's not bullshit. I hit some ice, the car skidded off the road, hit a tree on the passenger side." Her voice caught as sharp images cut into her head. Releasing the chair she turned and looked out the window into the night. It was dark tonight, just like it had been the night of the accident. She hugged herself, rocked back onto her heels. Only when she knew she could continue without breaking did she speak.