Ruthie called after her as she hurried toward the back entrance. “Don't you worry about a thing, just go out with that handsome hunk of yours and have fun again."
Lynn stopped and turned to ask, “Again?"
Ruthie smiled. “I heard about what happened last night at the Grange Hall."
Lynn groaned. As if she didn't already have enough to worry about, now she had to contend with ugly rumors. She would think about that later. At the moment, she had other things on her mind. “Good night, Ruthie.” Lynn hurried out the door and raced up the steps to her apartment.
An hour and a half later, she was sitting on her couch, waiting for Trace to put in an appearance. New unbidden doubts moved in to challenge old uncertainties. What if he didn't show?
At precisely six-thirty p.m. Lynn heard Trace's pickup as it pulled into the parking lot behind the bakery. She drew a cleansing breath, stood, and moved to stare out the front window.
She watched as he got out of his pickup and strode toward the stairs. The tuxedo he wore looked as if it had been tailor-made for him. The coat fit snugly across his broad shoulders. The trousers hugged his trim hips. A florist's box was tucked snugly under one arm. She scanned his tall frame from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. He was one handsome son-of-a-gun. A smiled touched her lips when she realized he was wearing cowboy boots.
She moved from the window just in time to be sitting on the couch when he rapped on the door. Lynn called out, “Yes, come in."
Trace came just inside the door and stopped. Without so much as a greeting he demanded, “Stand up."
Lynn was too surprised to do anything but obey. She rose gracefully to her feet.
Trace let out a long keen whistle. “Your dress is beautiful."
According to the clerk at the boutique this little design was a gown, not a dress. Lynn didn't bother with a correction.
"Thank you.” She knew she looked stunning in an elegantly simple, sea green satin creation with a narrow skirt slit half way up her left thigh. “I like it too."
Trace smiled. “I had to be sure this time."
Suspicion straightened Lynn's spine. “Sure of what?"
Trace's eyes danced with laughter. “Sure that you didn't decide to try looking sexy tonight.” They clouded suddenly. “About what happened last night..."
Lynn asked oh so cautiously, “What about what happened last night?” Was he going to complain or apologize? She didn't want him to do either.
"We succeeded but I don't feel good about what we did."
They succeeded? That wasn't a very flattering remark. He didn't feel good about what they'd done? If that wasn't a complaint it was dangerously close to it.
Trace sighed before continuing. “Dad and Lillie had a fight. They aren't seeing each other now."
Slowly the light dawned. Lynn turned her head to one side. “You're talking about what happened last night at the Grange Hall?"
Trace nodded. “Yeah, Dad's pretty broken up..."
Sudden understanding skipped across his face and lodged in the blue of his eyes. “You're talking about what happened here last night, right?” He set the box he held on the table near him. “Maybe we should talk about that too."
What happened here last night was Lynn's personal memory to keep and cherish for years to come. She didn't want to talk about it, not to Trace, not to anyone, not ever.
"We don't have time.” She smiled and pointed. “What's in the box?"
Trace lifted the lid to reveal a lovely wrist corsage. “I hope you like gardenias.” He held it up for Lynn to see.
If she hadn't before, she did now. “I love gardenias."
She held out her arm and Trace slipped it onto her wrist. The touch of his fingers on her skin stirred memories from last night, causing goose bumps to gambol across her skin.
Obviously, Trace felt something too. He dropped his hand to his side and took a swift step backward. “Let's go."
The ride to the high school gymnasium was a silent one. Lynn sat in the far corner of the pickup seat and stared out the window into the gathering darkness. Silence seemed preferable to saying too much or speaking out of turn.
As they wheeled into the parking lot, she remembered that there was one issue they had to settle, and the sooner the better. “Did you explain to Ralph why we behaved so badly at the dance last night?"
Trace cut his eyes in her direction. “No, do you think I should?"
"I think you have to, just as I have to confess to Mother."
Trace slowed his vehicle. “Help me look for a parking space.” He glanced briefly in her direction before pulling his eyes back to the road. “I suppose you're right, but my old man is going to be mad as hell."
Lynn was amazed at his quick capitulation. “Just like that, you're going to confess everything?"
Trace pulled his pickup into a narrow space between a little Toyota and a sleek Buick Regal. “I need to tell you something too.” He took his keys from the ignition and turned to face her. “Dad made a confession of sorts to me last night. His affair with Lillie is not nearly as torrid as he first led me to believe."
Lynn's mouth fell open. “You mean he lied?"
"It's more like he stretched the truth.” A silly grin pulled at one side of Trace's mouth. “It boosted his ego to brag to his son about his sexual prowess."
Lynn asked, “And those little blue pills he was popping?"
Trace shrugged. “Blood pressure medication."
Lynn felt the sudden sting of useless anger. “Are you telling me I made a fool of myself last night for nothing?"
Trace was still grinning that stupid half grin. “Getting your building repaired and having a date to your high school reunion seems sufficient reimbursement for any embarrassment you may have suffered...” He reached for the handle of his door as he shot her a sexy grin. “...and you collected a few other fringe benefits as I recall."
This man was insufferable. Lynn got out of the pickup and headed for the gym, vowing as she went to settle her business with him as soon as possible.
Chapter 12
Trace sat a tiny table for two in the over-crowded gym and stared into space as an old memory he thought he'd laid to rest years ago suddenly surfaced. Once more, he was a senior at Trentman High, dancing across a ballroom floor holding Eva in his arms, and feeling as if he owned the world.
He waited for the pain that always accompanied remembering Eva. Surprisingly it never came. All he felt was a touch of nostalgia, coupled with brief twinge of wistful longing for what might have been. Lynn's voice calling his name brought him back to the present. He leaned across the table. “You were saying?"
"I was saying Joel just walked through the front entrance and he's with a stunning brunette. The louse, how could he?"
Trace turned to stare at the slim-built blond man who had just entered the room with a much younger woman hanging onto his arm. “She looks young enough to be his daughter."
Lynn caught his hand. “They're coming this way. Look at me lovingly, but don't get that lustful glint in your eye."
That had to be the most ambiguous request he'd ever heard. Nevertheless, Trace shifted, took Lynn's other hand in his, and stared across the table and into the emerald green of her eyes. “I didn't know that was possible. I thought one automatically triggered the other."
Lynn smiled sweetly. Her words carried a definite sting. “Don't be difficult. Just do as I say."
This woman was using him to attract the attention of another man. That realization bit into Trace's pride and stirred another emotion he was reluctant to name—jealously. He returned her tender smile. There was a decided bite in his voice. “I don't take orders well. It might be to your advantage to remember that in the future."
Lynn scoffed, “We have no future. After tonight, I don't care if I never see you again."
She was being spiteful and malicious and Trace suspected it was deliberate. “That suits me. Tomorrow you can explain to your mother and my dad about last night without me being around to annoy you."
Lynn smiled seductively, sending his pulses racing. But her tone was like fingernails across glass. “Don't you dare try to find some excuse to duck out on me."
"You said that after tonight you never wanted to see me again."
Lynn's teeth worried her bottom lip. “I did not.” Her voice rose and then fell again. “I said I didn't care if I never saw you again. There's a difference."
Trace thought,
not a hell of a lot
. “Does that mean you want me to show up tomorrow at your mother's with my old man in tow?"
Lynn pulled her hand from his grasp and leaned back in her chair. “It most assuredly does! You know, you have to be the most disagreeable man I have ever met."
Trace shot back, “And you are the most contentious woman I have ever known. When Walter Winters shows up next Wednesday for a final inspection of your building, I will be conspicuous by my absence."
Color crawled along Lynn's cheekbones. “So you're going to go back on your word? I'm not surprised, and I don't care if you don't show. I can handle Walter Winters."
Trace opened his mouth to say more as a shadow fell across the table. He looked up to see a slim and very handsome blond man staring down at him. The man extended his hand in Trace's direction. “Hi, I'm Joel Evans."
Trace ignored his extended hand.
With a shrug Joel let his hand fall to his side before capturing a chair from a nearby table and sitting down between Trace and Lynn. He smiled in Lynn's direction. “Hello baby, long time no see."
Lynn stared him down. “I'm not your baby. What are you doing here?"
Joel shrugged. “Have it your way. I want to talk to you."
Lynn scorned. “After three years and a divorce, now you want to talk?” She lifted a disdainful eyebrow. “I don't think so."
Joel gestured in Trace's direction. “Ask your friend to leave. What I have to say is for your ears only."
Lynn had the audacity to ask Trace, “Would you mind?"
Trace would mind tremendously and he said so before adding, “I'm not going anywhere. If you want me out of here, you will have to throw me out."
Lynn turned her head to one side and eyed Joel speculatively. Trace had the feeling she was enjoying every minute of this conversation. “He says you will have to throw him out."
"I heard.” Joel studied Trace for several minutes, obviously assessing the odds of his being able to evict this man who stood well over six feet and weighed at least two hundred pounds of mostly muscle. A malicious grin spread across his symmetrical features. “Sorry pal, I'm a lover, not a fighter. Stick around and listen if that's what floats your boat."
This little bastard had some nerve. Trace considered leaving and then thought better of it. “I brought this lady here, and I will leave when she does."
"We will see about that.” Joel turned toward Lynn, and took her hand in his. “Baby, I came here tonight to ask for, no—to beg for another chance with you."
Lyn asked, “Is that why you brought that gorgeous brunette
girl
with you?"
She's jealous, Trace thought as he watched Joel flinch. “That girl is my cousin Lola. You remember Lola. She's my Aunt Myrtle's oldest. We can't talk here. When can I come to the apartment and
really
talk to you?"
Lynn pulled her hand from Joel's vise-like grip. Trace thought it was about time. “I don't want to talk to you. You and I are history.” She sounded far from convincing.
"I can make you change your mind. I know I can. Lynnie, baby, please..."
Trace had enough. Standing he stared down at Joel. “The lady said no. Get out of here."
Whatever else Joel Evans might be, he was no fool. He got slowly to his feet. “You don't have to get nasty.” He smiled in Lynn's direction. “We
will
talk again, and soon.” With that parting barb he sauntered off.
Trace sat back down and waited for at least a thank you from Lynn. It never came. Instead she said, “I've told you before, I don't need rescuing."
Ridicule Trace could have handled. He could have dealt with anger. But to be put down in such a cold-hearted, matter-of-fact way struck a blow where he was most vulnerable, his sagging male ego. Having to witness Joel's attempted reconciliation with Lynn was bad enough. But to have her rail against his attempt to help was too much. He bit out, “What you need is a keeper. Surely you didn't believe what that low-life said."
To his utter amazement Lynn came to the bastard's defense. “You don't know Joel. How can you say he's a low-life?” Reaching across the table she touched his hand with the tips of her fingers. “I'm not handling Joel's asking for a reconciliation very well. It's the last thing I expected.” Her mood changed in an instant. “Forget about Joel. Would you like to dance?"
Encouraged by her happier frame of mind, Trace decided he would love the chance to have her in his arms again. “That's a great idea.” Standing, he extended his hand. “Shall we trip the light fantastic?” He projected a spirit of lightheartedness that he didn't feel.
Lynn took his hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor.
Trace drew her into his arms and held her very close. Her body flowed into his. He breathed deeply and caught the scent of her heady perfume. As he swung her across the floor, he wondered who this exciting, intoxicating creature he held in his arms really was.
He had first assumed her to be a dowdy and somewhat testy little female. The night he brought her the contract to sign, he'd realized that beneath that rather drab facade was a lady with brains and determination. All was settled in his mind until last night. Once she donned that scrap of a red dress, Lynn Evans became a sexy, passionate female. The memory of holding her naked and panting in his arms made him pull her even closer. Tonight she seemed a sophisticated, savvy lady.
The revelation hit him with the force of a fist to his mid-section. Lynn was not any one of these women, she was all of them and more—complex, fascinating and multifaceted. He could spend a lifetime exploring her hidden depths and discovering her concealed secrets. And every exploration, every discovery, would be exhilarating and stimulating. He missed a step.