Maybe This Time Read online

  “He’s not paying attention, then. It’s a serious failing with the men in my life. What do you mean, you don’t know if Lydia knows? Don’t you people ever talk?”

  “And say what? ‘Mom, do you know that Southie knows that he’s not Dad’s kid?’ Would you want that conversation with Lydia?”

  “Oh. No.”

  “So to return to Will—”

  “I don’t want to return to Will. Will is history.”

  “Glad to hear it,” North said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not history,” North said, and kissed her.

  Eleven

  It was so swift that Andie didn’t have time to close her eyes first. North was just sitting there, very close, and then he was kissing her, and it hit her the way it always had, the heat slamming into her as her mind shorted out, and when he whispered, “Give me another shot, Andie,” she almost said, God, yes, and stopped herself just in time.

  “Nothing’s changed,” she said, but she felt the heat of his body through that crisp, white shirt, his breath on her cheek, his hand on her waist—

  “Everything’s changed,” he said and kissed her again.

  She kissed him back because it felt so good, and more than that, it felt right, but her libido had gotten her into this mess before, so she put a lid on it when he moved his hand to her breast.

  “Hold it,” she said against his mouth.

  “My bedroom’s next door,” he whispered against hers.

  “You should go there.” She pulled away from him, from all that warmth and satisfaction. “I’m drunk, and I didn’t get any sleep last night, and I’m stressed out of my mind because this place has ghosts, which you don’t believe in, and I can’t do this.”

  He was still for a moment, and then he kissed her cheek and said, “You’re right, this is lousy timing. I apologize.”

  “You don’t need to,” Andie said. “I like the kissing. I like having you close like this. I just need sleep.”

  “Fair enough.” North stood up and then held out his hand for her. “Big day tomorrow. I’ve got a private investigator coming down to go through the house to see what’s going on here. We’ll fix whatever it is and then take the kids back to Columbus with us.”

  Andie took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, and the alcohol and exhaustion hit her at the same time. “Do you even have a place for the kids to stay in Columbus?”

  “We’ve got two of the bedrooms on the second floor ready for them. Mother’s moving in next door with Southie—”

  “Oh, poor Southie,” Andie said, and then realized for the first time why Merrill had left Southie his house next door.

  “It’s his turn,” North said, without sympathy.

  “So it’s going to be you and the kids in the main house? You’re going to feed Alice breakfast?”

  “The bedroom Mother’s vacating is also on the second floor. It’s yours if you want it.”

  “Me take over Lydia’s bedroom? Living with ghosts would make me less nervous.”

  “She likes you.”

  “She called me an idiot.”

  “That was ten years ago.”

  “That was ten minutes ago.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  North capped the bottle of Scotch and put it in his bag, and Andie thought about that bedroom on the second floor. North was thinking she wouldn’t be in that bedroom for long. And he was right.

  “I can’t move in,” she told him. “You know what would happen and we’d end up in the same damn mess. I don’t care how much you’ve changed, you’re never going to stop working long enough to have a real relationship—”

  “Oh, come on,” North said. “That was ten years ago.”

  “—and I need somebody who believes in me—”

  “I believe in you.”

  “—not somebody who thinks I’m crazy because I want my husband with me or because I see ghosts.”

  “I believed in you enough to hire you for these kids.”

  “You did that to slow down my marriage to Will,” Andie said. Which was probably a good thing. “It was like the alimony checks. I’d get one every month and think, ‘There you are again,’ and remember the good times, and then I’d remember the bad times, and then I’d have a drink. Moving in with you would be the alimony checks in 3-D.”

  “That makes no sense,” North said.

  “Well, I’m a little drunk. The smart thing to do is to stay friends. That way we don’t bring our horrible screwed-up relationship into these kids’ lives, we keep things calm and safe for them. Which means our only relationship is a business one.”

  “That,” North said, “is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “See?” Andie said. “No respect.”

  “I give up.” He leaned over and picked up his overnight bag and kissed her on the cheek as he straightened. “You have a good night. We’ll fight this out in the morning.”

  “Nothing to fight about,” Andie said, turning toward the other twin bed.

  “I’m in here if you need me,” North said, opening the door to May’s bedroom.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Andie crawled into the twin bed, fully clothed. She just needed to lie down for a minute and then she’d get ready for bed, she was so tired . . .

  That man can really kiss, she thought and fell asleep remembering the other things he could do.

  Then she fell deeper into sleep, and dreamed that there were people in the room, not ghosts, people, somebody drifting dressed in orange flowers, and she shivered from the cold. Cold, that was a bad sign. She shivered. Had the fire gone out? No, this was a dream, but even in her exhaustion, she couldn’t sleep, something was too wrong. She tossed and turned, and the room grew cold, and she shivered, and thought, This is really wrong.

  And then she realized that the cold was inside her, that May was seeping through her veins, invading her muscles. She went numb, not just from the cold, although the cold was everywhere in her, needles of it easing through her, but also because May was sapping her nerves, dulling her mind, and then a wave of nausea hit her.

  Nightmare, she thought. May, stop it.

  May grew stronger inside her. Just let go, just let go, it’ll be fine—

  No! Andie thought, and woke up, and it was all real, May freezing her while she screamed, No, no, NO, but even then May had her, and she was rising from her bed and moving across the nursery, her world in flickering black and white as she staggered past a sleeping Alice like some monster of Frankenstein’s, ice in her veins as May dragged her toward North.

  NO! Andie thought and jerked away, felt warmth for a moment as May followed behind a second too late, felt her brain turn inside out as May took her back, the world flicker between color and black and white, and then May opened the door to her bedroom.

  North had taken off his shirt and was holding it, staring at the sign over the bed. “This sign is not like you.”

  “What are you doing, honey?” May said, trying to keep her voice light as Andie battled to regain control.

  “This plaque over the bed,” North said, looking back at the wall. “ ‘Always Kiss Me Goodnight.’ It’s kind of needy, isn’t it?”

  “I think it’s romantic,” May said, a little breathless from gritting Andie’s teeth as she fought back.

  “You think it’s romantic?” He frowned at her, half naked, gorgeous, and Andie felt May grow warmer, distracted by her need for him, so she gathered her strength and made her move, blanketing May as she reclaimed her body, staggering as she took it back.

  North said, “What’s wrong?” and then he was there beside her, putting his arms around her as she gasped for breath, gagging from the displacement, jerking in North’s arms as she fought May for control.

  Then her stomach turned over from the vertigo, the whole world distorted in front of her, and May said, Oh, for heaven’s sake, and let go of her, and she threw up on North’s feet.

  Andie threw up twice more in the bathroom