Authors: Sherryl Woods
Kate was startled that he could read her so easily. She must be growing too comfortable with him. Usually she kept her guard up better. It was tiring, but necessary. One of the first lessons she’d learned as a lawyer was never to show her hand in a courtroom. She’d adopted the same unrevealing mask in her personal life, as well.
Until now.
“Is mind reading one of your talents?” she inquired more irritably than the observation merited.
“It doesn’t take much talent when an expression is as easy to interpret as yours was. What were you thinking about?”
“Independence.”
“The city or the state of mind?”
“Very funny.”
He didn’t react visibly to the trace of sarcasm, but his tone was definitely more sober when he asked, “Okay, what exactly were you thinking about independence?”
Kate hesitated to say it aloud. It would sound too much as if she were dissatisfied with her life, and she wasn’t. Not really. She was just in a mood, an oddly disturbing mood that she couldn’t seem to shake.
“Kate?” he prodded.
She saw that he wasn’t going to let the topic drop. “I suppose I was thinking that independence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes it’s very taxing.”
He regarded her quizzically, obviously waiting for more.
“Actually, I suppose I was envying you,” she confessed, surprising herself with the honesty of the admission. It was the sort of revealing comment she normally would have avoided at all costs.
Astonishment filled his eyes. “Me? Why?”
“You have a career you obviously love. You have your son.”
As if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the rare confession, David glanced at Davey. “A son who is asleep on his feet.”
“Am not,” Davey said sleepily, his eyelids drooping even as he uttered the denial.
“Maybe we should get the check,” David suggested, snagging the last bite of his son’s cake. His gaze caught hers. “We can finish this discussion at home.”
Home, she thought with raw yearning that hit her like a bolt out of the blue. Until David had used the word, she’d never imbued it with so much meaning. Now she saw that the house she loved so much was just that, a house. It wasn’t until just tonight that she’d realized that for the past twenty-four hours it had felt more like a home. Laughter and contentment and warmth had spilled into the rooms.
She sighed heavily. Would she ever feel quite the same way about it, now that they had been there to show her what having a marriage and a family could be like? Or would this odd dissatisfaction and emptiness only be magnified?
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Kate said, desperately wanting to put an end to the topic before yet another layer of her defenses could be stripped away. As mid-life crises went, it appeared she was plunging headfirst into a real doozy.
* * *
David was up at the crack of dawn on Sunday. He made a pot of Kate’s fancy coffee, then took a mug out onto the deck and tried to analyze Kate’s retreat the previous night.
She had begun pleading exhaustion the minute they hit the house. Given the shadows in her eyes, he might have believed her if he hadn’t seen her light burning and heard her restless pacing long after she’d supposedly gone to bed. He’d guessed then that she desperately wanted to avoid completing the conversation she herself had begun at the restaurant.
She was a real study in contradictions. There had been times this weekend when he’d felt the barriers between them—his and hers—beginning to slip away. He’d enjoyed watching her with Davey, seeing the genuine enjoyment she seemed to get from probing his lively mind. She obviously liked his son. She treated him like a person, rather than a child, and Davey responded to that respect as any kid would.
Davey had wanted Kate to tuck him in before she fled to her own room. And Kate had figured prominently in Davey’s prayers, joining his father, his mother and Mrs. Larsen for special mention. Though she had rapidly blinked them away, there had been no mistaking the tears that sprang into Kate’s eyes when she’d heard. Right after that she had practically bolted for her room.
Sitting on the deck, sipping his coffee, David admitted that the weekend had been good for him. He felt more relaxed now than he had in months. He and Kate had fallen into a surprisingly easy rhythm of camaraderie. That sense that he was being disloyal had stolen over him only once or twice, mainly after he had kissed Kate on Friday night and then Saturday when he’d wanted badly to kiss her again just to prove that the first time hadn’t been a fluke.
So, he thought, it was just possible that he was going to go on living, no matter how hard he’d tried to bury his emotions along with Alicia. Anything more than that—falling in love, for instance—still seemed beyond him. Perhaps he would never again experience that head-over-heels sensation that had engulfed him the first instant he had laid eyes on Alicia. Maybe things a man had felt at twenty weren’t possible at thirty-five.
And yet there was an oddly erratic beat to his heart when Kate Newton walked into a room. It was only a glimmer of what he recalled of those early days with Alicia, but the chemistry was unmistakable just the same. He could leave her today and slam the door on that feeling or he could encourage further contact, explore the sensations and give them time to flourish.
If she’d let him. She, it seemed, was fearful not only of commitment, but of all the stages leading up to it.
He closed his eyes, seeing her as she had been when she’d climbed out of the shower to take that overseas call the night before. He sighed as he recalled how beautiful and sensual she’d looked with her face scrubbed clean, her skin glowing and soft as satin, her slim body given fascinating curves by the added bulk of that terry-cloth robe that shaped itself to her damp flesh. It had taken every ounce of restraint he possessed to resist a quick tug on that robe’s loosely tied belt to expose the alluring woman beneath. Even now, just the memory stirred his blood and sent it rushing through him.
While those provocative memories were still taunting him, he thought he imagined the scent of lily of the valley. Then he heard a faint whisper of sound and realized Kate had padded out to join him, her feet bare as usual, her endlessly long legs encased in denim. On top she wore a faded, misshapen UCLA sweatshirt. She settled onto the chaise longue next to his. He opened his eyes and turned toward her.
“Good morning.”
She gave him a sleepy smile in return. “You’re up early. Couldn’t you sleep?”
“Actually, I slept better than I have in ages,” he admitted. “The salt air and activity were obviously just what I needed.”
She nodded. “I’m glad.” She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. Occasionally she lifted the mug of coffee to her lips, obviously content with the silence and perhaps even with the companionship. Suddenly David wanted to understand what she was feeling, if the weekend had meant anything at all to her.
“Kate?”
“Umm?”
“I find myself in a quandary.”
Still she didn’t glance at him. “Oh?”
“You could at least act sympathetic,” he chided. “I’m not a man who’s used to not knowing how to handle something.”
“I’m sure,” she said, looking not one whit more sympathetic.
“What I’m trying to say here is that I’d like to see you again.”
“I’m sure we’ll be running into each other all the time,” she said, her expression deliberately cool, not giving him an inch, even though he was laying his damned soul bare. To add to the insult, she said, “Given Davey’s suit and all.”
David lost patience. “Dammit, I’m not discussing having an occasional polite meeting to discuss legal affairs.”
“I am.”
She had never seemed more distant. He found it infuriating. “Why?”
“Because that’s the way it has to be.”
“Are we back to the ethics thing again? Or is this because you have no desire to see me on a personal basis? If that’s it, Kate, just spit it out and I’ll back off.”
She turned then, and he could see the conflicting emotions warring in her eyes. She blinked and turned away. “That’s not it,” she said finally.
“Then for God’s sake, explain it to me. It’s been a long time since I dated. Maybe all the rules have changed.”
“I suspect it’s been even longer since I dated, and as far as I know the rules are the same. Given the lack of recent experience for both of us, I think maybe we’re grasping at straws here, trying to fill a void in our lives. A couple of kisses don’t mean anything, no matter how enjoyable they were.”
“What about the walks? What about the talks? What about playing games with Davey? In my book all of that adds up to two people who are compatible, who have things in common, who are mature enough not to expect bells and whistles.”
She gave him a wry smile. “Bells and whistles may not be mandatory in your book, but I figure that’s what gets two people through the rough patches.”
David recalled the passion Alicia had always stirred in him and knew Kate was right. Tempestuous passion and gentle, enduring love went hand in hand in the strongest relationships, forging an unbreakable bond. The memories of the glorious passion he and Alicia had shared were what he had pulled out and held dear when times had gotten tough. Was he any more willing than Kate to settle for less?
He gazed at her intently. “I think perhaps I hear a distant bell ringing,” he said softly, unable to hide the wistfulness behind the claim. “Shouldn’t we try to find it?”
She reached over and touched her fingers to his and all at once the peal of bells seemed more distinct. Her gaze searched his.
“We’ve both been bruised in very different ways, you more recently than I,” she said gently. “Let’s not rush into something.”
He curved his fingers around hers, liking the way her hand fit in his, liking even more the protectiveness that was stealing through him. “A slow stroll, then,” he suggested as their gazes caught and held.
She drew in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, her shoulders visibly relaxing. When she nodded at last, David felt something burst free deep inside him, and for the first time in a very long time he was filled with hope.
* * *
The weekend ended for Kate with the same mix of anticipation and trepidation with which it had begun. She was anxious to see them go. She was torn by the unexpectedly powerful desire to have them stay. Her talk that morning with David had opened up all of the delicious possibilities of the future. It had also stirred all the warning signals of the past. By the time they actually began to load the car she was as limp as a dishrag from dealing with all of the conflicting emotions.
“This was the best weekend of my whole life,” Davey declared.
Kate mussed his hair, which he’d brushed back neatly after his shower. “I’m glad you had fun, kiddo.”
Suddenly his lower lip quivered. His arms circled her waist and he buried his head against her. “I love you, Kate,” he said, his voice muffled.
She felt her throat constrict so tightly that not a single sound could squeeze past. She hugged him tight. “You’ll come back,” she said when she could finally speak, wishing she dared to lay her own emotions on the line as easily, wishing she even understood what they were. She made the promise of a return as much for herself as she did for Davey. She looked up and saw David watching her, his own eyes suspiciously moist.
“That’s right,” he said briskly. “We’ll be back. And Kate’s going to bring you over to see the set for
Future Rock
this week, aren’t you, Kate?”
It was the first she’d heard of any specific plan, but she nodded. “Absolutely. Just think, Davey, you and I will get a chance to see something that’s the biggest secret in all of Hollywood.”
Davey released her then and swiped at the damp traces of tears on his cheeks. His smile wobbled just a little. “You mean it, Dad?”
“Of course I mean it. Kate and I will compare schedules tomorrow and pick a day.”
Davey made a fist. “Yes,” he said as if he’d just won a victory. He climbed into the wagon and belted himself in. Kate closed the door, then turned to find David waiting for her behind the car.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll call tomorrow.”
She nodded.
He stepped closer and cupped the back of her head. Slowly, so slowly that Kate’s pulse was thundering with anticipation, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. Cool as a breeze, quick as the fleeting brush of a butterfly’s wings, the kiss was over almost before it began.
And yet she heard the very distinct, if distant, sound of bells.
Chapter Nine
W
hen Kate returned from court at noon on Monday, a full week after her fateful weekend with David and Davey, she found her sister waiting in the conference area of her office. She felt her stomach begin to knot, but she managed what she hoped was a breezy, unconcerned smile as she stepped behind her desk. Even an amateur psychologist would have seen the significance of placing that defensive barrier between her and her sister.
“Ellen, what are you doing here?” she asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep an edge out of her voice.
“We’re having lunch,” Ellen said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Kate’s gaze shot to her, then faltered. “Lunch?” She glanced pointedly at her appointment book. “Oh, dear, I’m sorry if you came all this way hoping to catch me free, but there’s an appointment on my calendar with a client.”
“Not a client,” Ellen declared. “Me. I had Zelda put me down.”
There was a stubborn set to her chin that Kate recognized from years of butting heads with her older sister. Though Ellen had been a dreamer and a romantic, when that strong will of hers finally asserted itself, even the indomitable Kate listened.
She glared at Kate. “And don’t you dare yell at Zelda for doing it without consulting you. Now put down your briefcase and let’s get out of here. I’ve made reservations at a place that’ll probably charge by the minute if we show up late.”
Kate gave a sigh of resignation as she accepted the futility of arguing. “You always were the bossiest big sister of anyone we knew,” she grumbled.