My Favorite Mistake (8 page)

“Denise?”

“Is this a bad time?”

He gave a little laugh. “No. Sorry about that…Janie just learned how to answer the phone.”

“No problem.” For some reason, I felt weird talking about his children. I cleared my throat. “Did you make flight arrangements?”

“Yes, I’m flying into LaGuardia Friday around noon. Does that work for you?”

From Friday to Tuesday—five days. The last time we’d been together for that amount of time, we’d gotten into a lot of trouble. Of course things had changed drastical y…

“Sure, that’l be fine. I cal ed this morning to confirm our appointment at the IRS office Tuesday morning.”

“Thanks. What do I need to bring?”

“Maybe your tax forms for the previous year and the fol owing year, just to be safe.”

“Wil do.”

I gave him the name and number of a hotel in my neighborhood. “I thought we could sightsee on Saturday.”

“Sounds good.”

“I have to work Friday, but I could take my lunch hour to meet you at the airport…if you want.”

“That’s not necessary,” he said. “But I’d like it very much.”

My midsection tingled. He’d like very much to see me, or he’d like very much not to navigate the trip into the city alone? “Wil I know you?” I asked, and was astounded to hear how breathless I sounded.

“If you ever did,” he said, and his words vibrated in the air with sudden intensity.

I swal owed hard. “I’l be wearing—”

“I’l know you,” he cut in.

His words struck me as intimate, and my tongue seemed to adhere to the roof of my mouth. “M-maybe we should exchange cel -phone numbers in case we don’t connect

outside baggage claim.”

“Don’t have one,” he said cheerful y. “See you Friday.”

“Okay,” I murmured, then slowly disconnected the cal , Redford’s voice stil reverberating in my head. Why was my skin on fire? My heart crushing against my breastbone? I

didn’t want to go back to the place I’d been when I was with Redford; to the darker side of myself, when nothing had mattered but being in his arms. My sense of reason had simply fled.

It was almost frightening to think back to how bendable I’d been to his wishes, how easily I had trusted him with my future. Was I truly prepared to see Redford again? Would it be cleansing…or climactic?

To assuage my pounding guilt, I picked up the phone and dialed Barry’s cel phone, but got his voice mail.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said. “Just missing you and wanted to hear your voice.” I worked my mouth from side to side and considered leaving a blubbery admission about Redford then

and there, but decided that was cowardly. Instead I said, “Cal me when you can,” and pushed the disconnect button.

I stared at my laboratory-engineered diamond ring until my eyes watered. There were so many reasons not to repeat my mistake of fal ing for Redford. For one, he was unavailable. For two,
I
was unavailable.

We were both unavailable. No mistake about it.

7

Friday

Days left on eBay auction: 4

Bidding on wedding dress up to: $875

Winning bidder: SYLVIESMOM

BY FRIDAY,
I stil hadn’t gotten used to having the engagement ring on my finger. As I waited on the sidewalk outside LaGuardia baggage claim for Redford to emerge, I adjusted the lump beneath my glove to either side, then back to the middle, expending nervous energy. I had barely slept last night, so I was sporting a rather Goth look from the circles beneath my eyes. My stomach held only coffee. And while I stood there tel ing my sil y self to calm down, the biggest mistake of my life strode outside in the cold February sunshine, and the temperature leapt at least two degrees.

My vision blurred, then cleared. Either I was having a stroke, or seeing Redford again was affecting the blood flow to my brain. I remembered him being a handsome guy, but in

the three years since I’d seen him, he’d matured into a mountain of a ful -grown man, fil ed out and hardened. Of course, the black Western hat
was
a little imposing, but no less so than the long tan suede duster he wore—a ful three cows’ worth.

I swal owed hard at the transformation from military officer to horseman. Cindy was right: Redford was a cowboy.

He turned in my direction and his gaze latched on to me. A grin spread over his face revealing white teeth and high dimples. God, I’d forgotten about the dimples…and the

impact of his luminous dark eyes. He walked toward me, and I was instantly conscious of my prim ponytail and gray wool coat—a far cry from the mussed hair and denim jacket uniform I’d worn during our brief time together. He’d certainly never seen me in a skirt (although he had seen me in far less). I was surprised he even recognized me…and alarmingly thril ed.

My heart was thudding like crazy when he stopped in front of me, the tails of his open coat swirling around him. Testosterone wafted off him like invisible tethers, tugging at me from al sides. Under the influence of his bronze, virile stare I managed a smile.

“Hel o, Redford.”

“Hel o, Denise,” he said, his voice guttural, but smooth. Then he reached up with his be-ringed left hand to remove his hat.

The gesture was so chivalrous, my toes curled. It was just the kind of thing that he had done before to make me feel so feminine and yielding. Beneath the hat, his thick brown hair was a bit longer than the military cut he’d sported when I’d known him. I was startled to see flashes of silver at his temples, a few lines around his amazing eyes. No doubt his experiences in the Gulf had matured him beyond his thirty-eight years. I had offered to meet Redford at the airport because he’d never been to the city. But I suddenly felt foolish because this man had been in places that would make the streets of Manhattan seem like a playground. A pang of gratitude struck me for the sacrifice he’d made, and I felt spoiled for the freedoms I had enjoyed while he’d been overseas. I had the sudden, crazy urge to give myself to him…just like before.

“You look wel ,” I said, my voice unsteady.

“You look beautiful,” he said, then leaned forward and dropped a kiss next to my mouth.

The feel of his lips on my skin was startlingly familiar, and I fought the instinct to turn toward his kiss, to meet his lips. I couldn’t discern if the contact lasted longer than necessary, or if I was simply processing things in slow-motion. Even after he pul ed away, I could feel the weight of his kiss lingering on my skin. When I’d known him before, Redford had elicited a strong visceral response in me, uncommon to
me,
but obviously not uncommon to him, judging from the women around us who literal y seemed to lose direction when they saw him.

Everyone in Manhattan was familiar with the Naked Cowboy in Times Square—a scantily-clad guitar-playing tourist novelty—but Redford was the real deal with his khaki shirt

tucked into loose, faded jeans, held on to narrow hips with a wide black leather belt. His black roper boots would have received a shine this morning from the horsehair brush his grandfather had given him, I thought as details came flooding back. And the bronze of his skin wasn’t the sprayed-on version that many men in New York sported. The fact that I knew what
this
cowboy looked like naked gave me a boost of female satisfaction…and the dangerous stirrings of temptation. Redford clasped my gloved hand and my ring bit into my skin, a not-so-gentle reminder that I had no business being tempted.

“God, it’s great to see you, Denise.”

I didn’t trust my voice…or any other part of my body at the moment, because everything was either tingling, swel ing, or vibrating. From the left side of my brain, a rational

thought found its way through the mush:
Lack of self-control is precisely how you wound up married to a virtual stranger in the first place.
I conjured up a casual smile that belied my quaking insides. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

His amazing smile diminished, and I felt a little indignant. Had he expected me to throw myself into his arms and tel him that I’d fantasized about his lovemaking for the better part of three years? The words watered on my tongue before I swal owed them, disgusted with myself. Two minutes into our reunion and I was already unglued.

I averted my glance and was pul ed back to the present by the noise of the traffic and jostling pedestrians. It occurred to me that standing outside the airport was a very public place to be seen with a handsome man that my boyfriend had no knowledge of. While the likelihood of someone seeing us was remote, it could happen, considering how much Barry

and his col eagues traveled. Panic crushed me for a few seconds while I looked from face to face, expecting any second for someone to recognize me. I cast around for a good reason to get moving. “Hungry?” I asked.

Redford grinned. “Always.”

I chose not to read anything into his words. “Okay, let’s drop your luggage off at the hotel, then we’l grab a bite to eat.”

We joined the line at the taxi stand and I shifted from foot to foot, aware of his eyes on me, trying to think of something to say. The next five days stretched before me like an emotional obstacle course.

“You look different,” I said, then gave a nervous little laugh. “I don’t know why, but I almost expected to see you in your uniform.”

He shrugged. “I just traded one hat for another, I guess. You look different, too.”

A warm blush crawled over my cheeks. “You didn’t seem to have any trouble recognizing me.”

“Oh, you stil stand out in a crowd,” he said, making me more uncomfortable. “You just seem…more buttoned-up.”

His teasing tone needled me. “Just more mature, I suppose,” I said.

He made a face. “That’s too bad.”

I bit my tongue, mostly because I didn’t know how to respond. I hadn’t expected to be so overwhelmed with resurrected feelings. It was surreal—I knew him, but I didn’t know

him. We’d been married…then not.

“So you stil don’t own a car?” he asked, gesturing to the taxi stand.

“More trouble and expense than it’s worth,” I assured him, knowing how bizarre not owning a vehicle seemed to people who lived in less dense areas. “Besides, I either walk or

take public transportation everywhere.”

He looked me up and down and a smile lit his black eyes. “So that’s how you’ve managed to stay in such great shape.”

My thighs pinged, but I reminded myself that his wife probably wouldn’t be thril ed knowing that he was complimenting his ex. Then a disturbing thought hit me—was Redford a

ladies’ man? Was he thinking that this IRS audit was the chance to reunite with an old flame and stoke the fire a little? I looked at Redford with dismay—had he changed so much? Then another possibility struck me—maybe he hadn’t changed at al …maybe I had simply misjudged him when I’d known him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, placing his hat back on his head.

“Fine,” I said, resolved that I wouldn’t let Redford’s powerful sexuality entice me into making another mistake. I stepped up in the taxi line, relieved to see we were next. “Did you make reservations at the hotel I suggested?” I asked, back to a safer topic.

He nodded and stepped off the curb, then walked around to the back of the taxi. Brushing off the cabbie’s offer of help, he deposited his leather duffel bag in the trunk himself and closed the lid. “But would you mind if I run a quick errand first?”

Bewildered, I shrugged. “No, of course not.”

He handed the cabbie a piece of paper, then held the door open for me to slide in the back seat first. I scooted as close to the opposite door as my bulky coat would al ow, but when Redford climbed in, his big body touched mine from knee to shoulder. I decided that pul ing away would seem prudish considering our former relationship, so I stared out the window as we drove away and racked my brain for something conversational to say.

“The drive in wil at least give you a great view of the city,” I offered.

“If I could take my eyes off
you.
”

I jerked my head around and, indeed, he appeared to be studying me, his dark eyes earnest beneath the brim of his hat.

The left side of my body was on fire. “What’s the errand you need to run?”

“Just a little business transaction,” he said easily.

In my purse, my cel phone rang. I pul ed it out and glanced at the screen—Barry. My stomach dipped. We’d been playing phone tag for days. I inadvertently glanced at Redford,

feeling panicky.

“Don’t let me keep you from something important,” he said.

The cabbie turned around to verify something on the piece of paper Redford had given him. When Redford leaned forward, I hit the connect button and put the phone to my ear.

“Hel o?”

“Hi,” Barry said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Redford put his hand on my knee, leveraging himself to lean farther forward. I inhaled sharply and my panty hose-clad leg burned beneath his large hand.

“Um, no,” I said into the phone. “I was just on my way to…lunch. How are things in L.A.?”

“It’s crazy here,” he said. “We’re working ’round the clock to get a couple of local stations transitioned to our network in time for sweeps. Sorry I haven’t been able to cal .”

“That’s okay,” I murmured.

“But I spoke to El en, and she said you had a good meeting.”

I frowned, my first thought being that he’d had time to talk to El en, but not to me, then gave myself a mental shake—he had probably talked to her numerous times about work. “I thought it went wel ,” I said. “She took the paperwork with her, so I don’t have the account yet, but I think it wil happen.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yeah. I owe you big-time.”

Barry gave an evocative little laugh. “When I get back, I’l col ect.”

The juxtaposition of Redford’s warm hand on my knee and Barry’s voice in my ear sent waves of guilt over me, and I had the crazy urge to blurt a confession right then and

there…which, I realized a split-second later, would be disastrous. So I simply took a deep breath and said, “Okay,” somewhat woodenly.