Bayview Heights Trilogy (85 page)

Read Bayview Heights Trilogy Online

Authors: Kathryn Shay

Tags: #teachers, #troubled teens, #contemporary romance, #cops, #newspaper reporter, #principal, #its a wonderful life, #kathryn shay, #teacher series, #backlistebooks, #boxed set, #high school drama, #police captain, #nyc gangs, #bayview heights trilogy, #youth in prison, #emotional drama teachers

“Johnny’s practically family, too, Dad. And
Joey’s a regular Sir Galahad, so he’s nothing to worry about.”

“Sure, honey, you can stay here. I’ll come
back and get you tomorrow.”

Her huge hug warmed him. When she left, he
remembered how difficult it had been arranging today. As always,
Elizabeth’s timing had been horrible. Zoe had met him at the clinic
last Tuesday to go to dinner, and they were about to leave when the
phone rang. He’d punched in the speaker phone as he packed his
briefcase…

“Lansing.”

“Kurt, it’s Elizabeth.”

Zoe’s eyes had widened. In them he saw
surprise change to anger, tinged with a little fear. She started to
back away.

He caught her arm and shook his head
vehemently. “No, don’t go.”

“Kurt, are you there?” Elizabeth’s voice was
slurred.

“Yes, what do you want, Elizabeth?”

“You can’t have Lauren for Thanksgiving.”

“It’s all arranged.”

“Sorry.”

“So am I. But she’s old enough to make her
own choices. I promised her we’d spend the day at Mitch’s. And
we’re going to celebrate her birthday on Friday.”

“I’ll make a stink.”

“Try it.”

“You’ll be sorry.”

“Elizabeth, what’s this all about?” No
answer. “Have you been drinking?”

There’d been a studied pause. “I want to be
with both of you, that’s all.” Her tone was whiny. “Let me come to
Mitch’s, too.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Kurt I—”

“I’m not listening to you anymore. Goodbye,
Elizabeth.”

After he’d disconnected, he and Zoe stared at
each other. For a long time. Finally he said, “I’ve learned my
lesson with her, Zoe.”

“She hasn’t given up, has she?”

“Apparently not. But it doesn’t matter.”

Zoe had walked into his arms then and hugged
him tightly.

“Come to Mitch’s with me,” he’d said.

“All right. Cassie was elated when I told her
we were trying this again. She asked me to dinner, too...”

As if his thoughts had conjured her, Zoe
appeared in the doorway. He loved the way she was dressed today, in
snug red jeans, a candy-striped sweater and heeled black boots.
“You asleep in here, old man?”

“Nope. Just resting.”

“Well, perk up, because we’re ready for
charades. Boys against the girls.”

He groaned. “I hate charades.”

“Oh, Lord, how can anybody hate
charades?”

“Kiss me first.”

She eyed him from the doorway. Then she
tossed her head and walked toward him, her curvy hips swaying as
she came close. He patted his lap. “Sit here.” Her gaze narrowed,
then she gave him an exotic smile and straddled him.

She’d been noticeably less wary of him
physically since the phone call from Elizabeth, even instigating a
kiss here and there. “You look great in this sweatshirt, you know
that?” she told him, her breath fanning his ear.

“Great? Not yummy? Like Jason Priestly?” His
hands flexed on her waist.

“Mmm, yeah, yummy, too.”

She lowered her head and took his mouth in a
searing kiss.

“Happy Thanksgiving, love,” he said against
her lips.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she whispered back.

o0o

FROM HER POSITION on the floor leaning
against the couch, Zoe slid to the rug, holding her sides, which
hurt from laughing so hard. “You guys are pathetic. I’ve never seen
such dumb clues.”

Giving her a disgusted look, Mitch, who’d
just blown the title
My Best Friend’s Wedding
, marched
over to her, reached down and scooped her up in his arms. He was as
tall as Kurt and muscular. “Take it back, lady.”

She hung on to his neck. “Never.”

He strode to the front door and opened it
easily with one hand. It was pouring rain outside. He began
swinging her back and forth. “I’ll count to three. If you don’t
take it back, you’re getting soaked.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She watched him, then
called over his shoulder, “Cassie, help!”

Cassie came running out and leaped onto
Mitch’s back. “Leave her alone, big guy.”

Dragging Cassie along, Mitch stumbled back
into the living room, dropped Zoe into Kurt’s lap and tackled his
wife to the floor, where he began to tickle her.

“Just because you’re such poor losers,” Lacey
said as she returned from checking on the kids.

Mitch glanced up at her and gave her a
say-more-and-you’re-next look. She scurried to the couch.

“Don’t worry, Ace, I’ll protect you.” Seth
pulled her onto his lap and cuddled her close.

She laughed and whispered something in his
ear.

When things quieted down, it was the girls’
turn to guess. Zoe drew a scrap of paper from their pile with
flourish. In front of a red-faced Cassie and an unusually spunky
Lacey, she read it and said, “Piece of cake.”

The men booed.

Cockily Zoe held up her hand and spread her
fingers.

“Five words,” Cassie called out.

Zoe raised her index finger, then touched it
to her thumb.

“First word, a small one. The?” This from
Lacey.

Zoe nodded and held up two fingers twice.

“Second word, second syllable.”

Zoe patted her back.

“Back.” Lacey’s guess again. “Okay, back is
part of the second word.”

Watching Zoe’s next gestures, Cassie
concentrated with the intensity of a brain surgeon. “Third
and
forth words?”

Vigorously Zoe nodded and made a half circle
with her hands.

Cassie said quickly, “The whole concept.”

Zoe folded her hands, prayer-style.

“Praying?”

She shook her head.

“Religion?”

She shrugged.

“It’s religious.” Lacey began to brainstorm.
“A person. A backward religious person?”

The guys guffawed.

Zoe rolled her eyes.

“Not a person.” Cassie frowned. “A thing.”
Zoe nodded. “A church? The back of a church?”

Lacey stood up. “I know.
The Hunchback of
Notre Dame
.”

All three women jumped in the air when Zoe
said, “Yes!”

“That’s it.” Lacey grinned.

“We win,” Cassie boasted.

“Damn,” Mitch said. “I hate it when women
win. They gloat.”

“Watch it, mister, I’ll throw
you
out in the rain,” Zoe told him.

“Yeah, half-pint, you and who’s army?”

It was just like old times.

The doorbell pealed. Mitch looked at his
wife. “You expecting somebody, Cassie?”

“No, but I’ll get it. Maybe it’s for
Johnny.”

Still smiling, she hustled to the door. When
she returned, she wasn’t smiling anymore. “Kurt, I think you
should...”

“Hello, darling.” Behind Cassie stood
Elizabeth. Her tall model-thin frame was cloaked in an expensive
mauve raincoat, her hair curled around her shoulders in studied
disarray. Her makeup was exquisitely correct. But she swayed
slightly on her feet. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Kurt paled; his gaze swung to Zoe. She looked
shell-shocked.

Everyone in the room rose. Cassie crossed to
stand next to Mitch, and Lacey sought out Seth. Both couples
flanked Kurt, forming a solid wall of support. Zoe nudged up behind
him.

“Elizabeth,” Mitch said frostily, “what are
you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see my family on Thanksgiving.”
Glittering eyes scanned the room. “Where’s Lauren?”

“She’s—” Cassie began.

But Kurt interrupted. “Elizabeth, you smell
like gin. You’ve been drinking.”

“Some.” She arched a brow. “It’s
Thanksgiving, darling.”

“Look, you don’t belong here. I told you that
when you called last week. It’d be best if you left now.”

Lazily she unbuttoned her raincoat. “I belong
with my husband and daughter on a holiday. And you know it.” Her
glassy gaze zeroed in on Zoe. “Or at least you would if certain
home wreckers would leave you alone.”

As before, this was too much for Zoe. She
wanted no part of it. “Excuse, me,” she said, and started to back
away.

Kurt reached for her and caught the sleeve of
her sweater. “No, you’re not going. The only person leaving this
room will be Elizabeth.” Kurt slid his arm around Zoe, anchoring
her to him. “It’s over, Elizabeth. There’s no chance for you and
me. We tried to reconcile and it didn’t work.”

“We would have stayed together if it wasn’t
for her.” She pointed an unsteady finger at Zoe. “You could never
stop thinking about her.”

Zoe cringed. Oh, God, she hated this. She
wanted to run, but Kurt’s arm was like steel around her. He stared
down at her with bleak eyes.

Suddenly she remembered what he’d said last
week.

Zoe, tell me one thing. Why is it that
you didn’t fight for me a year ago?

She looked around—Seth, Lacey, Mitch and
Cassie had no intention of leaving Kurt alone with Elizabeth. Only
she
had thoughts about getting away. The idea spun around
in her brain. Oh, God, hadn’t she learned from the past? Would she
really let Elizabeth waltz right in again and take the man she
loved?

Shaky, but determined, Zoe faced Kurt’s
ex-wife. “I’m sorry you’re without your family, Elizabeth,
especially today. But you were wrong to come here. Kurt isn’t yours
anymore.” She slid her arm around his waist. “And you’re just
embarrassing yourself by making a scene.”

For the first time the woman’s cool demeanor
cracked. Her gaze flew from Zoe to Kurt. She sent Kurt a
sickeningly sweet smile. “I took the train out from the Hamptons
and a cab here. You’ll need to drive me back.”

“No.” Kurt’s tone was implacable.

Mitch stepped forward. “Come on, Elizabeth.
Seth and I’ll give you a ride back to the train station.”

Seth nodded.

Haughtily Elizabeth surveyed the six people
before her. Then, without another word, she turned and walked to
the foyer. Mitch and Seth followed her.

When the outer door closed, Cassie cast a
worried glance at Zoe and said, “Come on, Lace, let’s go get some
drinks.” Both women squeezed Kurt’s arm on the way out.

Once alone, Zoe turned to Kurt. His face was
ravaged and full of questions.

In that instant Zoe realized she’d taken one
giant step toward cementing her new relationship with Kurt.

o0o

KURT PULLED ASIDE the sheers and stared out
the window of Zoe’s bedroom—where he never expected to be again—at
the bay. The water was calm tonight, lazily lapping against the
dock and kissing the shoreline. He turned back to the room. It
carried her scent of lotions, perfume and soap. He’d always thought
the room very feminine—perfect for Zoe—with its creamy walls,
wrought-iron bed, ruffled pillows and blue-and-beige coverlet.

And now he was back here...

“Come in,” she’d said after they’d left
Mitch’s house and Kurt had driven her home, the slap of the
windshield wipers broken only by an occasional innocuous
comment.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m raw. I...”
He’d raked a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I don’t have much
control tonight.”

She’d stood on tiptoe and kissed him. The way
she used to kiss him when she’d believed he was a man she could
count on. “I’ve changed my mind about taking this slowly,” she’d
said simply, grasped his hand and, after shedding wet coats and
shoes, led him up here to her bedroom. He was still reeling from
the impact of her actions and her decision. What had brought this
on?

The door to the bathroom opened and all
questions fled. She stood in the half light of a muted corner lamp,
clothed in the pink nightgown he’d admired that day at Victoria’s
Secret; it dipped low in the front and skimmed her thighs. Slowly,
as if she was savoring the moment, she moved toward him. Her head
was high, and confidence brimmed in her huge brown eyes.

Straightening, he said, “You take my breath
away.” He nodded to her outfit. “You went back and got that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad.” The significance of the gesture
touched him, deep inside.

She stepped closer, gave him a siren’s smile.
“It’s been too long,” she said, sliding her hands up his chest,
around his neck, whispering against his jaw.

Intuitively he understood what she meant.
Their intense mating a month ago had been frenzied and desperate,
the fulfillment of a need clawing at them both. Tonight, in the
dreamy intimacy of this room, a new kind of bond would be formed,
even better than the one he’d so foolishly destroyed a year
ago.

He skimmed her cheek with his knuckles.
“Zoe,” he whispered, “I love you so much.” They were words he’d
never said directly to her before.

She startled and he felt the delicate
connection between them change, as if a bolt of reality had struck
it. She turned her face into his palm. “Come to bed.”

He ignored the stab of pain her response, or
lack of it, caused. He knew deep in his heart she loved him; if it
took her time to rebuild her faith in him, he could wait.

With Circe’s smile, she reached for the hem
of his sweatshirt and drew it over his head. A clumsy lassitude
overcame him as he unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged it off and let it
fall to the floor. She leaned over and placed her mouth on his
chest. Gently she grazed her lips back and forth.

“I missed this so much,” she told him,
stopping to kiss his pectorals. His body lurched when her tongue
circled his nipple. “How you taste. Her hand came up and threaded
through the springy hair on his chest. “How you feel.” She stood on
her toes again and buried her nose in his neck, inhaling him. “How
you smell.”

His hands dropped to her waist and flexed
there. He tried to still his trembling fingers, calm his thrumming
heart, but he’d wanted this for so long he was overcome with
emotion.

Her fingers were sure as they tugged at his
belt, pushed down his slacks and boxer shorts. Slowly she ran her
palms up and down his hips, refamiliarizing herself with his body.
She slid them to his buttocks, caressed him there, then around
front, and cupped him boldly.

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