Starstruck (9 page)

S
he must be out of her mind, Liv thought as they sped through tree-lined residential streets toward the shore of Lake Monona. How could she ever seriously consider getting involved with a man like Joe Harrington? It was one thing to allow herself to enjoy long-distance phone calls and entertain harmless fantasies about the man. It was quite another to be going house hunting with him on a Saturday in June.

She darted a quick glance at the man who was driving her car with such ease and familiarity. He was concentrating on driving, humming something indistinct but decidedly cheerful, the rugged lines of his face relaxed, giving him an air
o
f content that she hadn’t seen on him earlier that morning. She looked away again almost instantly. Contemplating Joe Harrington was dangerous to her emotional health. As much as his movie-star image epitomized everything she despised about some men in general and her ex-husband in particular, Joe, the living, breathing man alongside her, was something else again. And she knew, against her better judgment, that she didn’t despise him at all. It would be infinitely safer if she did.

“Next street, I think,” he was saying now.

Ben, Theo, Stephen and Jennifer were bouncing on the back seats chanting, “There! No, there! Maybe there!” Liv would have throttled all of them if she had been driving, but Joe seemed oblivious to the noise. He seemed to know exactly what he was looking for, and noise, distractions, and other suggestions didn’t faze him in the least.

They had driven right past George Slade’s first recommendation without even stopping. “Not enough privacy,” Joe had said, scarcely giving the two-story white frame house a glance. “And I thought I mentioned water.”

There’s imperiousness for you, Liv thought. “George said it had a lake view,” she explained, but she was just as glad he hadn’t stopped. She didn’t care for the house either. “Turn here,” she said now, and felt a prickle of excitement when they turned onto a narrow street that ran along the edge of a creek that flowed through a heavily wooded park into the lake.

“Neato!” Stephen exclaimed. “Could I ever get lost in there!”

“Explorers!” Ben breathed. “We could be explorers!”

“Like Henry and Angus,” Theo chimed in, recalling his favorite story.

Liv turned to hush them, when she caught a glimpse of the same starry-eyed enthusiasm on Joe’s face. He looks as young as they do, she thought suddenly. And when she saw the house almost at the water’s edge, she breathed, “That’s it,” before she could stop herself.

Joe didn’t say anything, but he stopped the car immediately and bounded out even faster than the kids. It wasn’t a pretentious house by Madison’s
standards, certainly not the
majestic mode
rn
glass palace that Liv would have associated with a movie star who liked privacy, or one of the gingerbread Victorians that abounded hereabouts. Low-slung and rambling, it sprawled beneath the trees like a contented cat. Rough, weathered wood and a huge stone chimney allowed it to blend into the surrounding forest. Liv had heard about houses designed to fit in with their surroundings, but a lifetime of tract houses and unimaginative boxes designed for the most mechanical of human existences had left her unprepared for this.

“Joe!” Theo yelled from halfway across the yard, “Look, here’s a boat house! Joe!”

“Can we go see, Joe?” Jennifer asked, halfway between the boys, who were racing for the water’s edge, and her mother, who was standing by the car, feeling that if she took one step into that house she would be lost forever.

“Go ahead,” Joe hollered back from the front porch. He fumbled with the key in his hand, then inserted it into the lock, but before he turned it he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“Liv?” he said, an almost imperceptible roughness in his voice. “Coming?”

He held out his hand, waiting, and Liv thought helplessly,
I can’t
.

It was more than a house, it was a dream house. The one she had envisioned in her fantasies since she was a child. She hadn’t actually seen this one specifically, but it had everything she’d ever wanted—a fireplace, pine trees, homey warmth. How could she go in and walk around saying politely, “How nice,” and then go home to her bland box, leaving Joe Harrington in possession of her dreams? She glanced up at him.

He wasn’t waiting by the door anymore, but had walked back across the yard, stopping beside her, so close she could touch him. “What’s wrong?” His voice was low and curiously gentle for a man who had been consumed by enthusiasm moments before.

“N-nothing,” she stammered, unable to look at him. It’s envy, idiot, she told herself disgustedly. If it were going to be yours, you’d be running in, too.

“I know you like it,” he said. “So do I.”

Of course he did. That was another part of the problem. Knowing that he shared her dreams was making her even more vulnerable to him. And she couldn’t tell him that. Nor could she say how much she envied him. How childish that would seem. Grow up, she told herself sharply, the way she might snap at Noel for whining about something far beneath him, and dredged up a wavering smile. “Let’s go.”

The inside was all she had hoped—and feared—it would be. Natural oak woodwork, room-sized braided rugs and comfortable, slightly lumpy furniture about two generations out of date. It had been the home of an architect and was now in the hands of his estate; hence its completely furnished rental state, George had told her when she had called to say she had a friend looking for a house for a few months.

Joe led her from room to room as proudly as though he were the architect himself or a magician who had conjured the house up out of thin air, as well he might have, Liv thought, for she had never had an inkling that such a perfect house existed, especially near here.

“I think,” Joe said, when they had done the whole tour through the four
bedrooms, the spacious living-
dining room, the den and the recently modernized kitchen, “that we’ll take it, don’t you?”

It was a slip of the tongue, Liv thought, moistening her lips. He meant “I”, not “we”, but he was looking at her as though he expected her response.

“Yes,” she croaked, and felt her cheeks burn at his smile.

“Good. Then will you call this Slade guy from your place and tell him I’m moving in today?”

“Today?”

Joe grinned “Why not?” He leaned against the gleaming yellow kitchen counter and regarded her with mischief in his eyes. “Or were you planning to offer me space in your bed tonight?”

He was teasing, Liv knew, but she wished he wouldn’t. It made it even harder to keep thinking of him as a “friend.” And there was no sense in thinking of him as anything else. Joe would not be in Madison for long, she was sure, and he wasn’t the type who made commitments. Just as she wasn’t given to having affairs, no matter how brief or wonderful they might be.

“No answer to that?” Joe teased when she looked at the floor without responding. His hand reached out and loosened the knot of her hair, letting it cascade around her shoulders, and she looked up at him with wide, nervous eyes. He’s just a friend, she reminded herself again.

“I like it up,” she said, trying to brush his hand away.

He wound his fingers in her hair. “So do I,” he confided with a gleam in his eyes. “But I like it down better. I like to wrap my fingers in it.” He moved closer till their bodies were almost touching. His breath was fanning her cheek, moving the strands of hair on her neck, and she shivered. “And I’d like to—” He broke off suddenly and stepped back, his hand dropping to his side. “Oh, Liv,” he murmured, his mouth twisting. He jammed his hands into his jeans’ pockets and stared at the toes of his shoes.

Liv, taken aback, stared helplessly at him. What kind of line was this? Expecting to be swept off her feet by the experienced man-about-town, she couldn’t make sense of these advance-and-retreat tactics. Keep ’em off balance, she thought wryly. Maybe that’s how he does it. Whatever he was doing, she acknowledged, it worked. If he had come on strong with her, like the playboy everyone said he was, she could have resisted him easily. But this
…
how could she resist this?

“Mommy! Come an’ see the beach Joe’s got!” Theo burst into the kitchen and skidded to a stop. “C’mon!” He grabbed Liv’s hand and she allowed him to pull her outside. Saved by a child, she thought, letting Theo drag her to where the grass gave way to sand near the water’s edge.

“Now this is what I meant by water,” Joe said, coming to stand behind her. “Want to
wade?”

“Now?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

A giggle swept up inside her. “Why not?”

“Really, can we?” Ben asked and let out a whoop of joy when he saw his mother kick off her sandals and join Joe, who had already rolled up his pant legs and was walking through the water.

Wading, of course, was not where it ended, as Liv suspected it would not. First Stephen splashed Ben, who retaliated and in the process soaked Joe.

“Like that, is it?” Joe laughed and clapped his hands together in the water sending a geyser of water over everyone. Especially Liv.

Her halter clung wetly to her breasts and she felt his gaze on her, warmer than the sun and burning, and scooping up a double handful of water, she poured it down the front of his shirt. “That’ll cool you off,” she promised, chortling until he came after her. “No! Joe, stop! No!”

But there was no stopping Joe until he had grabbed her and lifted her high in the air, then waded out waist deep where he promptly sank, submerging them both.

“Joe!” she spluttered, hair streaming in her face.

“Cooled you off too, didn’t I?” he smirked.

But he was still holding her against him and she could feel the hardness of his body through the wet jeans and see the unquenched passion in his face. “Not really,” she said honestly. He went suddenly still, his breathing rapid as he studied her assessingly, and Liv wondered if she should have been so forthright. Then he set her down about six inches from him so the water lapped between them, and he took a deep breath.

“No, not really,” he agreed. “But there’s not much I can do about it here and now.” He shot a significant glance at the kids lined up on shore like spectators at a swimming match. “The audience wouldn’t approve.”

“Nor would I,” Liv said shakily, shifting her gaze away from his bare chest where rivulets of water coursed through dark, glistening hair.

“Oh?”

“No.” She wouldn’t let herself,
couldn’t
let herself. They were just friends, nothing more. She waded briskly toward the shore. “Come on, gang. Time to go home.”

“Can we come back tomorrow?” Ben questioned.

“I don’t think—” Liv began, but Joe cut her off,

“Off course. Ride over on your bikes. It’s not much more than a mile.”

“I don’t want them to be a bother,” Liv protested.

“No bother. I don’t invite people I don’t want.”

His words were terse. It wasn’t possible to construe them as mere politeness. He meant it; she could see it in his eyes, hear it in his tone. He was looking at her intently.
Not
the way one friend looks at another. She could still feel the imprint of his body against her own. Gulping, she looked away, wondering what in the world she was letting herself in for.

“
Y
ou mean they’re all gone?” Joe could hardly believe it. He was the last one out of the shower, and when he emerged and glanced around the living room with its definite signs of youthful habitation, he couldn’t see any youths at all.

“They’ve gone out with their father,” Liv told him from where she sat on the arm of the chair, surveying the wreckage. “Every Saturday that I can manage it, Tom takes them. Even if it’s only for dinner.”

“What do you mean, if
you
can manage it?” He was tempted to go over and pull her off the chair and take her into his arms. But sanity prevailed, and he sank down instead on the couch and picked up a Frisbee, spinning it idly on his finger.

“When we were together, Tom and I,” she said quickly, as though the memories were distasteful or painful, “I never minded having the kids around all the time. There was enough of me to go around. Or so I thought.” She laughed somewhat bitterly at that, and Joe ached just hearing her. “Apparently Tom didn’t, but
that’s not the point. Anyway, now that I am the sole parent in residence, I find that I need a break. If only for a while.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I’m sorry. This must be boring for you.”

“Not at all.” And amazingly enough, it wasn’t. He didn’t care the slightest bit about the domestic tribulations of anyone else, but Liv was different. He wanted to know everything about her, what made her happy, sad, silly, depressed. She intrigued him, tantalized him. He didn’t even know why. Because she seemed indifferent to his fame, his reputation? Perhaps. Because she didn’t fall into bed with him at the first hint of a pass? Maybe. Whatever it was, he wanted more. And with no kids in sight, he stood a better chance of getting it. “I like the idea of being alone with you for a change,” he said, regarding her over the top of the spinning Frisbee.

She started when she heard that. The realization that the kids’ going with Tom had left her not just free but alone with Joe Harrington apparently just hit her. “Er, would you like me to drive you back to your new house?” she asked, bouncing to her feet as though he were a salesman just begging to be shown to the door.