“Trust me, in a few years, Stephanie will be the teacher. She’s a natural.”
“What is she so hopeful that today’s lesson will bring? She looks too young to be flying by herself.”
“She is, but not by much. Age is just a number, and Stephanie defies a lot of statistics. But today she gets to be in charge of the takeoff.”
“That’s pretty exciting.”
“Want to come out and watch?”
“Sure. I still have some time.”
He stacked the piles of newspapers and slid them into the tote, then slipped the strap over her shoulder, tugging her in close for a hard, fast kiss. He was pretty sure his heart skipped at least a beat or two. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Like racing a breath away from the ground. And, just like racing, he wanted more of her particular brand of adrenaline rush. A lot more. “Can you make some time for me later?”
Her voice was a bit huskier, too. “Remember when I said I saved you?”
“Sort of. Everything before the kiss is kind of a blur now. B.K. and A.K.”
She laughed.
“You think I’m joking.”
“I think you’re always joking.”
“I tease, but I never joke.”
“Well, no joke, in return for your gallant save at the library, I saved you from suffering through dinner with my mom and the mayor.”
“How is that?”
“You recall that my mother ran into us both leaving the library. Together. Meaning I was in the vicinity of an apparently healthy male who was not a coworker or a direct superior, and he didn’t appear to be put out or off with me in any way.”
“Okay.”
“So, naturally, that makes you a target. Fresh meat, as it were.”
“Ah.”
“So.”
“I was invited to dinner, was I?”
“You were.”
“And you declined for me?”
“I thought it was the least I could do. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and it seemed rude to repay that kindness with such cruelty.”
He smiled. “What are they cooking?”
“Barbecue.”
“I like barbecue.”
“Served by my matchmaking mother and…her husband?”
“You know, we’re going to talk more about this thing with you and your new…whatever you want to refer to him as.”
“Jake—”
“No, I’m serious. I know there’s some stuff there that’s not cool, and I’m thinking, given the research you were pulling, that it’s not entirely just an attitude problem on your part.”
“I’m not sure what it is yet. That’s what I need to find out. For myself, and maybe for my mom, too.”
“So, we’ll talk. Or you can talk. I make a good listener. Well, Hank does, but I’ve learned a lot from him over the years. He can come, too.”
“Jake, you don’t have to do the barbecue. Things are better with me and my mom, but the rest…well, I don’t know what that is yet. It could be awkward, probably will be in some ways, and who knows what else. Not exactly the meet-the-family moment I’d prefer. Not yet, anyway.”
“I know. Just tell me one thing: would you deal with the evening better flying solo, or would you mind a little support?”
“You don’t have any idea what you’re really asking here.”
“So, you’ll tell me. Later. I have to go let Stephanie earn her wings.” He kissed her again, then again, then stopped before it got completely out of control. He pressed his forehead to hers. “Seriously, I’m not running.” And then he ducked out before she could come up with any more reasons why he shouldn’t accompany her that evening.
More shocking, was that he was actually looking forward to it. Maybe not the barbecue part, but definitely the “spend more time with Lauren” part. And he was admittedly curious to know more about the dynamics of the situation. He’d talk to her about it, but being there, observing them, might give him some additional insight.
And why the hell he was wanting insight, he had no idea. For a guy who was perfectly happy keeping to his own business and focusing on his passion and leaving others to theirs, he was certainly sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong all of a sudden, wasn’t he? Way in, in fact.
But the truth was, he wanted to know more. And he wanted to spend time with Lauren. So, if it meant he nosed around, and asked a few questions…well, then, apparently that’s what it meant.
Chapter 10
“Well, how do you like that, Hank?” Lauren said, surprised the lanky hound hadn’t trailed after his master. Instead, he had plopped down right in front of her, giving her that saggy-faced, baleful look that had her searching the office for some kind of dog biscuit box. Something. “He wants to go to my mother’s barbecue,” she said, still searching. “Who does that? I mean, he seems like a very nice, stand-up, dependable guy, but that’s just above and beyond. And he doesn’t even really know me. Yet.” She paused and looked back at Hank, who thumped his tail on the floor once, then sunk slowly down into a boneless heap, as if that single action had taken all of his remaining energy reserves.
“That’s kind of how he makes me feel. Boneless. Just a look can do it, but wow, the touching part is pretty amazing, too,” she said, knowing she should feel ridiculous talking to the dog. But it felt kind of good, putting the tumult of thoughts and emotions into words. She was a conflict of wants and needs at the moment, and wasn’t sure if she could just adopt his “take it as it goes” demeanor. “I’m a planner, Hank. I don’t do ‘wing-it’ very well. I need to know where I’m going.” She glanced at the dog, who was already dozing, and gave up her dog biscuit search to lean her hip on the desk and sigh. “Of course, I did a pretty big wing-it when I quit before deciding what to do next with my life. So…there is that.”
Hank lifted one droopy lid, waited for her to say more, or maybe cough up the biscuit, then slid back into doggy dreamland when neither was forthcoming, apparently content to let her resolve her own issues.
“Well, thanks for listening. Jake was right, you’re pretty good at that.” She bent down and gave him a scratch behind the ears, which elicited a little groan of appreciation and another single tail thump. His eyes remained closed, so that was apparently all he could muster. She hiked the tote handles farther up onto her shoulder and headed out, pausing once she was outside. She could hear a plane engine revving and whining as it geared up and walked around the side of the building to see Stephanie do her takeoff.
But she ended up standing there long past the moment the plane made its departure from the terra firma and marched majestically into the gorgeous, bright blue sky. She wondered what that would feel like, to possess the power and skill to lift away from earth like that, to have the freedom to soar through the sky. She felt a bump against her thigh and glanced down to see Hank had wandered out and was gracing her with his less than enthusiastic companionship. She scratched at his head, which, even sitting hit her about hip high. “Maybe I’ll take lessons,” she told him. “After all, if little Stephanie up there can do it, I could probably figure it out. I earned a law degree, after all.” She glanced down to see Hank staring up at her, his enthusiasm limited to a few long-lashed blinks. She sighed. “Maybe I’ll just get a dog instead. At least when I talk to myself, I won’t sound quite as irrational.”
Hank sighed and slid to the ground at her feet, resting his chin on his oversized paws.
“Your confidence in my abilities is truly heartening.” She lifted her gaze back to the sky, but the plane was no longer in sight. She and Jake hadn’t exactly firmed up their plans yet. He didn’t even know what time the barbecue was slated to start. She had no idea how long his lessons ran. And she really wanted some time to dig through the newspapers before seeing the less-than-dynamic duo in action again.
Everything her mother had said was still swirling around and settling in Lauren’s head. And in her heart. It was a significant thing, realizing that her mother was a differe
nt woman, or at least a woman with different needs, than Lauren would have ever attributed to her. Lauren was truly happy for her and felt a great deal more settled about the matter now that she had some sense, some reason, for why her mother had anchored so determinedly out here in the west. She’d witnessed, firsthand, the serenity and peace of mind it had brought to her, and she had no intention of doing anything to change that, nor would she if she could.
But there was still the issue of her mother’s choice in husband. And while Lauren understood that where Arlen was concerned, if her mother was as settled with him as she was with her life here in Cedar Springs, then Lauren should accept that, too. Unfortunately, while she was at peace with her mother’s happiness, she wasn’t settled with Arlen. So, even if it was now only for her own illumination and enlightenment, she had every intention of seeing her investigation through to the end—discreetly—and find out whatever it was that she needed to know and understand in order to resolve it in her own heart once and for all.
If her mother planned on staying married to the man, which it certainly appeared she did, then that meant he was going to play a role in Lauren’s life. And, because she loved her mother and planned to continue their close relationship, that meant she had to come to terms with her husband, too, and find a way to sincerely be okay with him on a personal level. To that end, she would spend time with him, like this evening, and get to know him better, continue to form her own opinions and let the ones already formed take better, more realistic shape with the additional information she’d gain from that personal interaction.
All while simultaneously investigating him to the very furthest of her abilities. Because that’s what her gut was still telling her to do. And she was very much at peace with that.
She hiked the tote bag full of press articles about Arlen’s business dealings in Cedar Springs higher onto her shoulder and looked down at her newly acquired, four-legged sounding board. “So, I’m guessing if he doesn’t come to his senses and decide to run, run fast, he’ll come find me at some point. Right?” Hank didn’t seem to be paying the least bit of attention. In fact, he appeared to be sleeping. Again. A slight snoring sound drifted upward, confirming her observation. She bent down and rubbed his neck and slowly extracted her foot from under his head. So much for her new best friend. “See you around, big guy.”
Hank’s response was a heaving sigh as he rolled over to his side.
“Right.” She gave one last look skyward, then turned and headed to where she’d left her bike. “To think that senators and statesmen used to routinely hang on my every word. Now I’m reduced to begging attention from a narcoleptic dog.” She scraped her hair back in some semblance of a ponytail and plopped her helmet back on her head, then slid the straps of the tote over her head so they crossed her body at an angle, keeping the tote tucked beneath her arm as she straddled the bike. She was halfway back to her motel before she realized she was grinning like a fool.
Compared to having conversations with flight school jockeys and disinterested hound dogs…talking to the country’s most powerful movers and shakers was highly overrated. As it turned out.
“Who knew?” she murmured as she wheeled into the parking lot of her motel. Despite the fact that she could probably have left her bike in the middle of the parking lot and it would have been perfectly safe, she wheeled it into her motel room and propped it against the wall and felt better for it. You could take the girl out of Washington, and the girl might even like it, but there were some parts of the city that were just going to stick, no matter what.
She slid the stack of papers out onto the bed and grabbed a legal pad from her laptop case and a black pen, red pen, and yellow highlighter. It occurred to her that most people probably didn’t carry legal pads, a variety of writing implements, and a handheld scanner in their computer bag when they were going on, what was for all intents and purposes, a vacation. Some people might not even carry their computer. “Yeah, well, some people don’t have to dig up dirt on their stepfathers just to figure out what it is about them that gives them the creeps.” Just thinking the word stepfather in conjunction to herself made her shudder a little. Her mother’s husband. No, spouse. Yes, that’s how she preferred to think of him. Her mother’s ex-spouse would feel even better. “Except that’s no longer on the table for discussion.” Much as she might wish it were.
Which either made her a terrible, selfish daughter…or one who loved and cared about her mother so much that she was willing to do whatever it took to make sure she wasn’t hurt.
Lauren pushed her glasses up her nose, which made her smile a little, then flipped the first paper around so the print was facing her the right way. She was skimming a story that had caught her eye on a business deal Arlen had brokered between the town council and the developers the resort owners had hired to expand the little nucleus of shops that were sprouting up right around the resort buildings, and was reaching for the phone to call the desk and ask where she could go to make copies, when she thought better of it. Normally she wouldn’t think twice about asking a hotel desk about office services or any local services. But this wasn’t any hotel. In any town. If she asked about making copies, somehow that would be news, and then her mother would be asking her what on earth she needed to make copies of and…well, some parts of city life were desirable. Anonymity, for one.
She tugged her handheld scanner out. It had been an invaluable tool when she’d been with the senator on long road trips, making speeches, talking to local businessmen, and the like. She would scour local papers, event magazines, cull local news interest stories from anywhere she could find them, brochures, talking to people, whatever it took, and put them together in a file for the senator to read over in between his meetings, to pick up talking points, find a way to connect directly to the people of whatever town he was in. She never went anywhere without her computer, the scanner, her PDA, wireless air card, and small printer. She’d brought all but the printer with her to Colorado, thinking, at the time, that she was actually downsizing fairly well.
She set everything up, but for whatever reason, though the first few articles scanned in fine, the one she wanted most was blurred and impossible to read. She even checked her glasses to see if they needed cleaning, then laughed at herself. The article read crystal clear; it just scanned poorly. She made some adjustments, but the end result was still far more frustrating to decipher than it was worth. Then she remembered, when she’d been looking for dog biscuits…Jake had a copier in his office. Duh.
He already knew she wasn’t here strictly on a social, fence-mending call. And she had every intention of talking it over with him. She was more sure of him than she was of anyone else in town. And she needed the ear and perspective of someone who’d seen Arlen in action, especially over a period of time, in different circumstances. This was one case where the “everybody knows everybody’s business” aspect of small town living should tilt in her favor. Jake had said he really wasn’t partial to town gossip and tended to keep his nose out of it, but by simply living here he would know more than he might think.
She looked at her bike, then the clock, and then the papers spread on the bed. Maybe she should go through as many articles as she could, see what she found, if anything, then dress for the barbecue and bike back to the flight school. He’d probably be done with his lesson by then. And they could leave for the barbecue from the school. Besides, if he drove her to her mother’s, then he’d have to take her back to the flight school—and presumably he lived somewhere in that vicinity, if not on the property itself—to get her bike back.
Not that she was planning anything. Really. But if they happened to be alone, and they happened to revisit the kind of “getting to know you” behavior they’d indulged in earlier…well, she was just thinking it might be better to be with him in the privacy of his space, then have him in her “less than private motel room right on Main Street” one.
Just in case. Anything might happen. It was good to have a pla
n. Planning was a good thing. Not that she had any specific plans to do anything…specific.
“Who am I kidding?” She forced her thoughts away from those few incredibly fantastic minutes she’d shared with Jake in his office today and back to the matter at hand. She had no time to waste. “He really is an amazing kisser, though. Just saying.” She looked over, as if expecting to see Hank laying there, staring back at her, soundlessly judging her. “Right. Now I am talking to myself.”
She slid her glasses up her nose and went back to reading the news story. Six papers later, she finally found something. She re-read the paragraph several times. Straightening up from the cross-legged slumped position she’d shifted into at some point, she slid the paper onto her lap, and read it a third time. “Well…that’s interesting.” It wasn’t actual proof of any wrongdoing or anything, but it provided a bit more insight into the man her mother had married. Well, okay, the man Lauren wasn’t taking a shine to was more accurate. Regardless, it was a good starting point for her talk with Jake.
“Because talking is what I want to be doing with Jake. Right.” She glanced at the clock, and winced when she saw how late it was. “And I really need to either get a dog or stop talking to myself.”
She slid the papers into the tote bag, with the article of interest on top, then jumped into the shower while planning what she would wear. Another plus to mountain town living. No pantyhose required. For that matter, no makeup required, either, from what she could tell. But she still had her workaholic Washington pale skin. And even the freckles didn’t give her that fresh-faced, mountain-air kind of look that everyone else in town had. Besides, she couldn’t really be expected to give up all her armor at once.
Twenty minutes later, her hair was combed back into a sleek ponytail, and she was wearing khakis, flats, and a sky blue camp shirt over a pale pink tank top. All freshly ironed, but still casual enough to survive the bike ride to the school, and all the way out to her mother’s for that matter if Jake ended up backing out. Besides, she felt better if she at least started with freshly creased trousers and a nicely pressed blouse.
A Great Kisser Page 15