Lynn stared up at him. “Be careful, you're stepping on my new shoes."
Happiness bubbled up like uncorked champagne inside Trace as revelation transmuted to certainty. He wanted this woman, and not just for some one-night-stand quickie. He laughed aloud as knowledge altered into determination. He was not going to let her go without a fight.
Bending his head he whispered in her ear, “Let's get out of here."
This time Lynn missed a step. “I can't leave. I'm a part of the entertainment committee."
"You can entertain me.” Trace sent her his sexiest grin. “We can go somewhere and entertain each other."
Lynn said over the last dying chord of music. “You are hopeless, and I have to make a presentation later."
Trace was not to be deterred so easily. He led her back to their table. “If after that you change your mind..."
Lynn hadn't heard a word he'd said. She pointed. “Look, Joel is dancing with Candy Mason. She's divorced again, you know."
Trace didn't know, what was more he didn't care. He was here with Lynn, and that was all that mattered.
Later driving home, Lynn asked, “What time tomorrow would you and Ralph like to meet me at Mother's? It will have to be after lunch. Mother goes to church services every Sunday morning."
Trace's mind raced with thoughts and hopes much more immediate than tomorrow. “Any time is all right with me."
"Is one o'clock okay?” Lynn tagged her question with an uncertain, “The sooner we get this over, the better I will feel."
Trace thought that he could make her much feel better tonight, and it would be his pleasure to do so. Pulling his pickup into a parking space near Lynn's apartment, he stepped on the brake and reached to pull her into his arms. “I'll see you to your apartment."
Lynn pushed him away. “I can find my own way.” She opened the door, got out of the car and hurried toward the stairs, calling as she went, “Good night."
Trace watched her go as the bitter taste of disappointment flooded his mouth, need tightening his body, and erotic images of Lynn in his arms, panting and willing, playing through his mind. He put his pickup into reverse. It was both exciting and disturbing to realize that he needed this woman. He had some thinking to do, and some plans to make. Gunning the motor he shifted into low gear and raced off into the night.
He was all the way to Anson Avenue before he knew he couldn't go home alone. Making a U-turn in the street, he sped back toward Lynn's apartment.
The sight that greeted him as he pulled to the back of the bakery sent his hopes plummeting. A sleek sports car was parked in the space he'd come to think of as his own. He knew instinctively who that car belonged to—Joel Evans. With his gut in a knot, Trace backed from the driveway and onto the street.
Chapter 13
Lynn climbed the stairs to her apartment with dissenting thoughts swirling around inside her head like debris in a whirlwind. Joel wanted another chance. How many times had she fantasized about him returning to her on bended knee? Tonight he had done just that—well maybe not literally, but figuratively he had.
She should be elated. But all she felt was an empty sensation in the pit of her stomach.
She had been the envy of half the women at the reunion tonight, what with Joel fawning over her and Trace being so attentive. And Trace had wanted to stay the night. She'd almost relented and asked him upstairs, but at the last minute her sense of self-preservation kicked in. Trace Randolph was a bona fide danger—she'd caught herself thinking of him too many times throughout the day not to know the signs. He was too handsome to be real, and she knew his intense lovemaking could become addictive.
Unlocking the front door, Lynn went inside and closed it behind her. She had scarcely shed her shoes and hose, wriggled out of her formal, and slid into an old flannel robe when a knock sounded on the front door.
Her heart raced. Trace had come back! She sped across the room and flung it open wide. Joel stood on the other side. Lynn held onto the knob as disappointment replaced her anticipation. “What are you doing here?"
Joel ran one hand through his blond curls. “I have to talk to you. Please, Lynnie baby, let me come in."
Lynn had never considered Joel to be tenacious or resolute. Quite the contrary, he was a mild-mannered man who ran from confrontations and was adept at avoiding issues. Her annoyance converted to sympathy. She motioned with one hand. “Come in."
Joel came inside and looked around the room. “I've missed this place and you.” Uninvited he sat in the worn easy chair. “It's good to be home."
This wasn't his home, and it hadn't been for a long time. Lynn considered telling him so. Compassion bridled her tongue. It couldn't have been easy for him to swallow his pride and come here with his hat in his hand to ask for another chance.
A dozen old memories crowded into her mind. Twelve-year-old Joel winning the bar chinning contest, and then giving her his blue ribbon. Fifteen-year-old Joel blushing as he asked her to the school dance. Seventeen-year-old Joel stumbling through his declaration of love for her. Eighteen-year-old Joel asking her to marry him...
She pulled her mind back to the present. “I'm not sure I want to hear what you have to say."
"Come on, Lynn. After all we've meant to each other, you owe me that much."
Maybe she did. “Go ahead, talk. I'm listening."
Joel smiled but his eyes were pools of sadness. “I never should have left the way I did, slipping off without even a good-bye.” He hung his head. “If I could do it over things would be different."
His admission brought a stab of unwanted pain. He hadn't said he wouldn't have gone; just that he'd have handled his departure differently. “It's not too late. You can tell me now."
Joel raised an eyebrow. “Tell you what, goodbye?” Leaning forward he put both hands on his knees. “That's one thing I never want to say to you again."
"It's not too late to tell me why you left.” Lynn kept her tone gentle. “You owe me that much."
"Touché.” Joel leaned back and tilted his head to stare at the ceiling. “Chalk it up to immaturity and stupidity. I was so weary of working six days a week and seeming to get nowhere. I was tired of the responsibility of a business. I was bored with my dead-end life."
He had felt trapped. She couldn't fault him for that. There were times she'd felt the same way. “I understand."
Joel's head came down. “You do?” He wiped a tear from his eye. “This time things will be different, I swear. I'm more adult now and more responsible. And I know what it means to be alone and lonely. From this day forward, I will cherish every moment I have with you. And I have such plans for the bakery, and for us."
Lynn held up one hand. “Hold on.” He was moving too fast. He was also assuming too much. He thought she wanted him back. With the impact of a bullet fired at close range, Lynn realized she didn't. How could she tell him that?
"That's what I plan to do from now on,” Joel replied, his voice brimming with elation. “I will hold on to you, and never let you go."
Lynn stared down at her hands, bare of any adornment. She'd taken her wedding band off the day after her divorce became final. As painful as it would be, she had to set him straight. “There is something else you must understand also. I don't want you to come back."
She had said it. A great burden lifted from her shoulders.
Joel vaulted to his feet. “Why not; you love me, I know you do, and I love you."
A strange calm settled over Lynn. She commanded softly, “Sit down.” She did love Joel, but she wasn't
in love
with him. In one sparse and telling instant she knew she never had been.
Much to her surprise, Joel sat. “You're upset and still angry with me. Don't say in haste something you don't mean."
Lynn put a hand on each cheek before straightening to stare at the man across from her. “I'm not angry.” That was true. For the first time in years, she was at peace with herself and the world around her. “And I'm no longer upset."
Once more Joel was on his feet. “Is it that man you were with tonight? What's his name, Trace?"
Lynn was set to deny that accusation, but she couldn't if she was going to be honest. One night with Trace Randolph had forever altered her outlook and changed her expectations. She took refuge behind a half-truth. “I've only known Trace a few weeks."
Joel sat once more, and narrowed his eyes in her direction. “It's not how long, but how well you know him that counts."
That was none of Joel's business. Even as Lynn explained, she wondered why she felt compelled to do so. “Trace did some work on the building. He's the son of a friend of Mother's.” Ralph had been mother's friend before she and Trace interfered.
Joel replied assertively, “I can make you forget him."
Lynn didn't want to forget, and she had to make Joel see that, even if it meant doing irreparable harm to his fragile ego. She spoke slowly and emphatically. “Joel, listen to me and listen carefully. You and I are through, over, kaput."
Tears welled up in Joel's eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “I ... I can't accept that."
"You have to; you have no choice, because that's the way it is.” Lynn stood and slid her hands into her robe pockets. “Goodbye, Joel."
Joel struggled to his feet. “You're making a mistake."
Maybe she was. Lynn had no way to know for sure. She was sure of one thing. She was free of Joel's clinging memory. Gone forever were the feelings of betrayal and loss.
"Good luck and have a good life, Joel."
Without looking her way, Joel stumbled out the door and down the stairs.
Lynn shut the door and leaned against it feeling a sense of exhilaration and independence such as she had not experienced in years. She made her way to her bedroom and fell across the bed. “It's over. After all these years, it's really and finally over.” She slept that night as if she had died.
Lynn woke the next morning and remembered that this was to be another day of reckoning. She had to face her mother and try to make amends for meddling in her life.
She had a leisurely breakfast, read the Sunday paper, showered, dressed and made ready for the dreaded task ahead. How long would it be before her mother forgave her? Would she renew her friendship with Ralph once she knew the truth? Would Trace show up to support Lynn in her effort to set things right? She could only hope.
Lynn stopped her car in Lillie's drive at precisely one-thirty-five. Trace's pickup was nowhere in sight. She wondered if he'd show up later.
As she got out of her car, Lillie called from the front porch, “You're late."
Lynn couldn't remember designating a specific time to be here. It wouldn't be wise to start an argument with her mother about so trivial a matter as her time of arrival, so she apologized without enthusiasm. “I'm sorry."
Lillie stepped inside and turning, motioned for Lynn to follow her. “I hope you aren't the bearer of bad tidings."
"Bearer of bad tidings?” Lynn questioned. Where had her mother come up with a phrase like that? She sat on the couch. “Don't start with me, Mother."
Minerva hopped from the other end of the couch, stretched, yawned, and with her tail over her back walked from the room.
Lillie complained as Lynn sat in the space the cat had vacated. “Now you've gone and upset Minerva.” She pitched her voice high and called out, “Here kitty, kitty, kitty."
Minerva was running true to form. She lifted her nose in the air and disappeared down the hall.
Lillie jumped to her feet. “I have to see about the poor dear, or else she will be totally offended for the remainder of the day."
Lynn let out a long-suffering sigh. “Mother, honestly, you treat that cat as if she were a human being."
"She's brighter than a lot of people I know,” Lillie retorted as she hurried down the hall.
Lynn called after her mother, “She's also a monumental pain in the posterior."
The door bell rang as Lillie reappeared with Minerva in her arms. “Get the door; I'm taking Minerva to the kitchen to give her a kitty treat."
Lynn said as she moved toward the door, “You shouldn't reward that cat for bad behavior.” She pulled the door open to see Trace and Ralph standing on the other side.
Lillie called from the kitchen, “Who is it dear?"
Lynn motioned for the two men to come inside. “It's Ralph and his son."
Lillie peered around the door facing and pierced Ralph with a stiletto stare. “Why are you here?"
Ralph cleared his throat. “I don't know. Your daughter asked us to come over."
Lillie's piercing gaze shifted to her daughter. “You did that without bothering to talk to me first?"
Lynn drew a deep breath. “Yes I did.” She nodded toward the couch. “Ralph, Mother, sit down. I have has something to tell you."
Lillie chose to sit in a straight-backed chair near the door.
Ralph and Trace sat on the couch. Lynn dropped into Lillie's easy chair. As she opened her mouth to speak, Minerva came from the kitchen, walked across the floor with her tail up, hopped into Trace's lap, curled into a ball, and purred contentedly.
Lillie chortled, “Minerva likes you. You should be flattered. She's very discriminating about whose lap she lies in."
She was being upstaged by a cat. Lynn snapped, “Mother please, what I have to say is important."
Lillie shrugged. “You have the floor."
Chapter 14
Trace stroked the soft white fur of the cat that lay in his lap and watched Lynn's every movement. She looked so serene and collected. Was that contented state a result of spending the night in Joel Evans’ arms? He fought to control a sudden surge of blind anger. Damn this woman. She had, in the space of a few short weeks, turned his world upside down.
His wrath subsided to be replaced by a feeling of overwhelming tenderness. He couldn't put the burden of an explanation on Lynn's shoulders. He had set this chain of events in motion. It was his responsibility to admit his mistake and try to make amends.
He spoke with an assurance he didn't feel. “Lynn, please, let me."