Love in Bloom (29 page)

When the song ended, Clay gazed into her eyes.  "Let's take a walk.  I want to kiss you and this is a bit too public."

She smiled, kissed her forefinger, then touched it to his lips.

He shook his head and growled, "Actually I'd like to do a lot more than kiss you."

They returned to the porch and went out the back.  Clay took Paige's elbow on the steps.  They headed toward the path, and Clay held her hand as they walked.  The smooth flow of the water was soundless.  The slight breeze wafting over it gently lifted tendrils of Paige's hair and spread them across her cheek.  She glanced at Clay as the breeze ruffled his hair, too.  He looked pensive and didn't seem to notice.

She realized that since the first night they hadn't yet "slept" together in the true sense and guessed why.  She said quietly, "I'd like to spend a whole night with you."

He knew exactly what she meant.  "That might not be a good idea."

"Clay, I've seen your nightmare."

"No.  You probably just caught the tail end.  I don't want you around me when that happens."

"Why?"

He stopped walking.  "I shouldn't have to spell it out.  I'm not myself...I'm..."

"Vulnerable?  There's nothing wrong with that.  There's nothing wrong with needing someone to hold you.  Why do you think there is?"

"Because when I have the nightmares, I feel helpless.  I don't want you to see me like that."

"I would never think you're helpless.  You're the strongest man I know.  Just think about it, Clay, and know it won't make a difference between us, except maybe to bring us closer."

Clay surrounded her with his arms and brought her to him.  When he bent his head, she lifted hers.  Their lips met, caressed, held until he slid his tongue along her lower lip.

With an excited little moan, Paige opened her mouth to accept him.  He didn't rush, but taunted her with tiny flicks and quick forays.  Soon she had enough of the teasing.  Her hands held his head, and she gently caught his tongue between her teeth.  There was no more playing.

Clay cupped her breasts as he delved deeper into her mouth.  She rubbed against his hand wantonly.  He tried to push the strap on her dress to the side, off her shoulder.  But it wouldn't budge.

He broke the kiss and held Paige tight against his chest.  "A kiss is never enough.  I'd better take you home."

"I could get a few things together at Doc's and go home with you."

"I'm not ready for that yet, Paige.  I had a wonderful evening and I don't want to spoil it by waking up in a panic, out of control."

"All right."  She tried to hide her disappointment.

Clay tenderly brushed her hair back from her ear.  "Tomorrow we'll have all afternoon and evening."  He smiled.  "Unless you have other plans?"

She returned the smile.  "No other plans."

Clay switched on soft music as they drove.  He held her hand.  When he had to break contact to make a turn, she rested her hand on his thigh.  At a stop light, they glanced at each other and he kissed her.  A soft, fleeting touch of his lips.  She wished he'd change his mind about taking her home with him tonight.

When they arrived at Doc's, lights blazed in the living room, kitchen, and spare bedroom.  Paige murmured, "That's unusual."

Clay hopped out of the SUV and came around to open her door.  "Let's find out what's going on."

The door was standing open.  Paige unlatched the screen door and they stepped inside.

Doc was sitting in his recliner, reading the newspaper.  He looked up.  But before he could say anything, a woman came into the living room.

Paige took a step back.  It was her mother.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Paige recovered quickly and went to hug her mother.  Monica returned the hug with a tight squeeze.  "It's good to see you, honey.  I missed you."

Monica leaned away and Paige studied her mother.  Her hair was short in an easy-care style.  It was the same dark brown as Paige's but liberally laced with gray.  She wore jeans and a cotton blouse, her usual uniform.

Paige remembered Clay standing behind her.  "Mom, this is Clay Reynolds."

Clay stepped forward and extended his hand.  "It's good to meet you, Mrs. Conrad."

Monica looked him over thoroughly, then her gaze returned to Paige.  "It seems like you've been out on the town."

"Clay took me out to dinner."

"I see."  Monica tilted her head and examined Clay again as if searching for answers.

To break the sudden silence, Paige said, "I didn't expect you for another week."

Monica shrugged and brought her attention back to her daughter.  "I finished up business sooner than I expected.  I found half a dozen interested doctors to volunteer for six- month stints.  I can do all the paperwork here while I visit with you.  I thought we could leave at the end of the week."

The end of the week.  Leave Langley.  Leave Clay.  "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

Paige glanced at Clay, then at Doc.  She wasn't prepared for this.  She wasn't prepared to make her decision.  But the two men in her world didn't come to her aid.  She latched on to the first excuse she could think of.  "I'm involved in planning the Fourth of July Celebration.  I can't leave before that."

Monica gave Doc a speculative look.  "That's a week and a half away.  I was hoping to be in New York by then."

Paige wasn't budging on this.  "You can go on ahead if you have to."

Monica studied her daughter carefully.  "No, I don't think so.  I'll wait until you're ready.  I can make phone calls and arrange for supplies from here.  But I do wonder if Doc wants me underfoot that long.  I can get a room somewhere--"

"Nonsense, Monica," Doc finally said, moving his newspaper from his lap and folding it.  "You and Charles and Paige used to stay here on your furloughs.  I'm at the office almost as much as Paige is now, and we'll both be in and out.  You'll be here most of the time by yourself."

Monica smiled.  "I do hope we'll have some time to visit."

Paige hazarded a glance at Clay and wondered what he was thinking.

His expression was inscrutable as he said, "I'd better be getting home.  Mrs. Conrad, it was good to meet you."

Monica gave him a curt nod.

"I'll walk you out," Paige decided.  She couldn't let him leave without knowing what he was thinking--or without a kiss or a touch.

She and Clay walked to the SUV in silence.  Finally he asked, "What are you going to tell her?"

Why did she feel like a child still longing for her mother's approval?  "I don't know."

His voice was harsh in the darkness.  "Does this mean I won't be seeing you?"

The words rushed out before she had time to think about them.  "No.  Absolutely not.  Clay, this doesn't change anything between us.  It just means I have to make some time for my mother, too."

His tone lowered, gentled.  "What about tomorrow?"

She wanted her mother to get to know Clay.  She wanted him to get to know her mother.  "Why don't you come over for brunch?  Then you and I will have the afternoon together.  Tomorrow evening I can spend with my mother."

"All right."

He was so removed, so stoic.  "Clay, I still want to be with you."

He clasped her shoulders.  "And I want to be with you."  He bent his head, surrounded her with his arms, and with his kiss told her exactly how much.

****

Eight days later, Monica came into Paige's bedroom as she dressed for her day with Clay and his family.  Paige had bought a rose-colored gauzy dress with a peasant top and full skirt when she'd purchased the fancier sundress for their dinner date.  These were the first two impractical dresses she'd ever owned.

As Paige faced the mirror and put on her mother-of-pearl earrings, her mother sat on the bed.  "You look nice."

"Thank you."

"Paige, this thing with you and Clay Reynolds--it's not serious, is it?"

The time had arrived.  They'd skirted this issue all week.  Paige would come home from her time spent with Clay to her mother's ideas and hopes for the future.  Monica hadn't asked questions, just assumed Paige would fall in with her plans.  As her mother had spoken of new programs, the reality of Africa came back.  The needy people, the children, where Paige fit into the scheme of healing.  It beckoned to her.  But so did Clay.  She wasn't any closer to a decision now than she'd been a week ago.

Clay hadn't questioned her, either.  They hadn't discussed it.  They'd spent most of their time making love.

"Yes, it's serious," Paige answered, not sure herself what that meant for any of them.

"He's not right for you."

"How can you know that?  You've only seen him a few times."  And each one of those times, Clay had been polite to Monica and Monica had been polite to Clay.  Conversation had never gone below the surface.

"You need to be with someone who shares your dreams.  Not a small-town store owner who can't see beyond the state's boundaries."

Paige sat on the bed next to her mother.  "I thought you were a better judge of character than that."

Monica lifted her chin in the regal gesture Paige knew well.  "I am a good judge of character."

Paige usually deferred to her mother, but not this time.  "There's a strength and depth to Clay you know nothing about."

Monica hopped up and paced the room.  "No, what I think there is--is a physical attraction between the two of you.  You're infatuated with it...and him."

"You're wrong.  I love him."

That stopped Monica in her tracks.  "You can't.  You've only known him two months."

Paige folded her hands in her lap.

Monica shook her head.  "You're being foolish.  I just hope for all our sakes you're taking precautions."

"Mother!"

"I'm a doctor, Paige.  Just because you're my daughter doesn't mean I'm blind."

Paige felt sad and disappointed her mother truly didn't realize the issue before them.  It wasn't only Clay.  "I was hoping you'd understand."

Monica impatiently flicked her hair behind her ear.  "What am I supposed to understand?"

"That I don't know if I want to go back to Africa."

The silence in the bedroom was too heavy to weigh.  Finally Monica said, "You can't be serious."