This I Promise You (9 page)

She headed upstairs to the master bedroom suite and made her way to her walk-in closet. Since Quentin was such a clotheshorse, it was a given that they would have their own separate closets. Each one was huge and boasted custom shelving, bureau-style drawers and cabinets, and plenty of hanging space behind glass doors. One entire wall held rows of shoes that were displayed on backlit floating shelves. Each closet featured high coffered ceilings, gilded wall mirrors and a modern chandelier hung above a large island. Lexi’s closet also had customized cubicles for her handbags, and a plush ottoman and bench for her to sit on while having her own private fashion show. There was also a separate vanity area equipped with mirrors and drawers for storing makeup and hair supplies.

Lexi sometimes wondered what her teenage tomboy self would think of the boutique-style closet she now owned. Would she think it was over the top? Would she suck her teeth and sneer at her sizeable shoe collection? Or would she nod approvingly and give her a high five?

The questions made Lexi smile as she shimmied out of her dress and changed into a crewneck pullover and skinny jeans, then slid on a comfy pair of Ugg boots.

When she went back downstairs, Quentin had bundled up their son and put on his tiny black Timbs. They wheeled out his covered stroller, tucked him inside and then headed outdoors.

For the past two years, they’d lived in an exclusive gated community made up of sprawling custom-built homes, each one featuring a distinct façade to eliminate the cookie-cutter look that dominated much of suburbia. Situated on wooded five-acre lots, every house was set back from the road and perched on an incline that was accessed by a long circular driveway. The lawns and gardens were impeccably manicured, and the streets were lined with a canopy of towering oaks. A picturesque lake served as a popular gathering place for summer picnics, boating, water skiing and fireworks displays.

The residents of the Buckhead community were affluent professionals and artists, most in their thirties and forties. They got together for cookouts, potluck dinners and festive holiday parties. Every year, they held Christmas decorating contests that transformed the neighborhood into a sparkling fairyland. It was a close-knit community where everyone knew one another. So nobody gawked at the sight of celebrity chef Michael Wolf out enjoying the day with his family. And no one made a big deal over Quentin appearing on CNN after winning a major case.

A companionable silence settled between the Reddicks as they walked around the neighborhood, their legs occasionally brushing as Quentin pushed Junior’s stroller along. Snug and warm beneath a quilted blanket, the baby gurgled contentedly while sucking on his favorite plastic toy car.

Savoring the crisp evening breeze, Lexi sighed deeply. “This is what I always wanted.”

Quentin smiled down at her. “What?”

“When I was growing up watching my mother struggle to buy groceries, watching her count out change to send me to the store for a pack of smokes and a carton of milk, I dreamed about running away. As I walked past alleys littered with garbage and rundown buildings covered in graffiti, I’d close my eyes and fantasize about escaping. I fantasized about having a better life and being able to give my children the best of everything.” She smiled, gazing up at the fairy lights twinkling in the trees overhead. “Now that I have the dream house and the cars and the clothes, it doesn’t even matter to me. What matters are moments like these, the beautiful simplicity of going for an evening walk with my husband and child.”

Quentin stopped and turned to face her. As she stared up at him, he bent his head and slanted his mouth over hers. It was such a sweet kiss, so soft and tender, that her knees went weak. Sighing with pleasure, she wrapped her arms around his neck as his lips shaped hers, pressing them apart so their breath mingled.

She felt the lazy glide of his hands as he slid them down her back and over her hips, then tucked his fingers into the back pockets of her jeans. Her senses reeled from the heat of his touch, the searing intimacy of his kiss.

“I didn’t know how much I wanted this life until I almost didn’t get it,” he whispered against her mouth. “None of it would mean a damn thing if I didn’t have you, Lex.”

Her heart melted. “Oh, baby,” she breathed.

His arms tightened around her as he lifted her off the ground, deepening the kiss.

“Hey, hey, get a room.”

Quentin and Lexi broke apart and glanced around to see an attractive white man and Chinese woman approaching.

They grinned sheepishly at the couple. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, yourselves,” the man said teasingly. “Nice night for making out— er, taking a stroll.”

Quentin laughed as he set Lexi back down, letting her body slide against his. When she shivered, the wicked gleam in his eyes told her he’d done it on purpose.

Their neighbors, Dan and Amy, peered inside Junior’s stroller and smiled.

“Looks like slugger’s down for the count,” Dan observed.

“Sure is.” His wife sighed. “Such a handsome little guy. He’ll make an excellent husband for Emma someday.”

The others laughed.

“What?” Amy blinked innocently. “Didn’t you guys know that Junior and Emma are already betrothed?”

Lexi chuckled. “Um, you’ll have to duke it out with my friend Samara. She’s already claimed Junior for her daughter, Milan.”

“Yeah?” Amy put her fists up. “Tell her to bring it on.”

Everyone laughed.

“Where
is
Emma?” Lexi asked, noting the absence of the couple’s infant daughter.

“At home with my parents,” Amy replied. “They’re visiting for the month.”

“That’s great. You’ll bring them to the holiday party to meet everyone, right?”

“Definitely.”

Dan nodded to Quentin. “You and Mike up for a round of golf next weekend?”

“Mike’s going out of town,” Quentin said, “but I might be able to swing it. Let me see what’s up and get back to you.”

“Sounds good.”

Amy grinned, tucking her arm through her husband’s. “We won’t hold you lovebirds up any longer.”

Quentin and Lexi laughed. “See you guys later,” they told the couple before moving on.

Junior remained fast asleep as they headed back home. When they got there, Lexi took him out of the stroller and carried him upstairs to the nursery.

After putting him to bed, she closed the door quietly and started down the hall toward her bedroom. Stepping through the door, she saw Quentin standing by the double French doors that opened onto the balcony, which overlooked a black-tiled pool and the beautifully landscaped grounds of their property.

He was on the phone, his voice vibrating with fury as he snarled, “I told you I’m not interested. Don’t ever call me again.”

Startled, Lexi froze in her tracks, watching as he angrily clicked off the phone and unleashed a string of vicious expletives. When that wasn’t enough, he banged his fist against the window so hard the glass rattled.

Lexi stared at him, her eyes wide with alarm. “Quentin?”

He stiffened at the sound of her voice. When he kept his back to her, her apprehension grew with the thumping of her pulse.

“Who were you talking to?” she whispered.

He shoved his phone into his back pocket. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Hearing those words, her mind flashed on a memory of the first time she’d confronted her ex-husband about his cheating.
I don’t want to talk about it
, he’d told her sullenly.

She’d damn near clawed his eyes out. And now Quentin wanted to feed her the same line?

Oh, hell no!

Closing the door behind her, Lexi marched across the room and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around and face her.

“You listen here.” She stabbed the middle of his chest with her finger. “You know better than anyone what I went through with Adam. What hurt me even more than the cheating was all the secrecy and lying. I might be able to handle a lot of things, but one thing I
cannot
deal with is secrecy. I am your
wife
, Quentin. You don’t get to keep secrets from me. You didn’t when we were just friends, so you sure
as hell shouldn’t start now!”

“Dammit, Alexis,” he growled, grabbing her face and pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m not cheating on you!”

“Then I’m going to ask you one more time. Who the hell were you talking to?”

“It was my uncle!”

Lexi frowned. “Which one? Uncle Fletcher?”

“No.” Quentin’s voice was flat, his expression hard. “It was my mom’s brother.”

Lexi froze, her jaw dropping. “
What?
”

Quentin released her face and stepped back. “He came to Ma’s house yesterday while I was there.”

“Oh, my God,” Lexi whispered. “Did your mom know he was coming?”

“No,” Quentin said darkly. “He showed up out of the clear damn blue expecting hugs and reconciliation.”

Lexi eyed him incredulously. “After all these years?”

Quentin nodded tersely, his jaw clenched tight.

“Wow,” Lexi murmured in disbelief. “What did your mother say?”

Quentin’s expression darkened. Shaking his head, he turned away to stare out the window. And suddenly Lexi understood.

“She wants to reconcile with him, doesn’t she? That’s what your disagreement was about.”

Quentin stood silent and motionless, his eyes focused on the dark night.

“You don’t think she should forgive him. You don’t think he deserves her forgiveness.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Quentin snarled harshly. “None of them do.”

“That may be true,” Lexi conceded quietly. “But I think you should let your mother decide that for herself.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “I disagree.”

Lexi studied the rigid line of his wide shoulders, the way he stood with his arms crossed and his long legs braced a foot apart. He was as impenetrable as a stone wall, as immovable as a mountain.

Lexi pulled in a shaky breath. “How did your uncle get your personal cell number?”

“He wouldn’t tell me,” Quentin gritted between clenched teeth.

“Do you think your mom gave it to him?”

“She’d better not have.”

Lexi felt the rage coursing through him, understood the intensity of it.

“I don’t blame you for being so angry,” she said gently. “I felt the same way when my father showed up at my book signing after he’d been MIA most of my life. I knew he was only after money. But you know that’s not the case with your uncle. Maybe he genuinely regrets what happened in the past. Maybe he truly misses your mother and wants to make things right.”

“There’s nothing that son of a bitch can do to make things right,” Quentin said coldly.

“Maybe not. But you have to look at this from your mom’s perspective. This is her family—”

“A FAMILY THAT DISOWNED HER!” Quentin exploded, rounding on Lexi. “A family that kept tabs on her over the years, but couldn’t be bothered to send a fucking sympathy card when she lost her husband!”

As Lexi stared at him, he turned away and slammed his palm on the window, causing the glass to vibrate alarmingly.

Pushing a shaky hand through her hair, Lexi backed toward the bed and sat down on the edge, silently studying the hard angles of Quentin’s profile. His jaw was rigid with tension, his eyes focused dead ahead as he stared off into the night-shrouded distance, lost in his memories.

When he finally spoke, his voice was pitched low. “I’ll never forget the day my father died. I was in eighth grade. Dad had promised to take me camping that weekend, just the two of us. I was so excited, it was all I could think about. I couldn’t wait for the weekend.” He paused, closing his eyes. “I was in math class when they called me down to the principal’s office. At first I thought I was in trouble. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and I’d been restless all day. Distracted. But my teacher wouldn’t look me in the eye when she handed me the hall pass, and I thought that was weird. When I got to the principal’s office, my mom was sitting there. I took one look at her face and I just knew—” He broke off, his voice hitching before he continued hoarsely, “I knew he was gone. But I didn’t want to believe it. I started shaking my head and backing out of the room. I wanted to get away before Ma could say the words. But then she started crying and…God, I just lost it. I screamed at the top of my lungs,
‘Daddy!’
And then my knees buckled under me and Ma rushed over, and we just sat there on the floor hugging each other and bawling our eyes out.”

“Oh, baby,” Lexi whispered achingly, walking over to stand behind him. She wrapped her arms around his broad torso and held him to her, pressing her cheek against his back. Beneath her hands, she felt him tremble.

As close as they’d always been, his father’s death was the one and only subject they didn’t discuss very often. He’d shared heartwarming stories about going camping and hunting with his dad, about sparring with him in the boxing ring and then eating at their favorite burger joint afterward. Fraser Reddick was his hero. His senseless murder had been a devastating blow to Quentin. Although he’d had other positive male figures in his life—his grandfather, uncles, Sterling and Stan Wolf—Lexi knew he would always bear the scars of losing his father too soon.