By Candlelight

by Janelle Taylor

  “You’re the only thing I want,” he told her urgently, and Katie answered, “I feel the same way.”

  “So, what are we going to do?” he asked. Clearly the question had been rolling around inside his head for some time.

  “Just be together?”

  “I don’t want it to end,” he muttered fiercely, as if he, too, had recognized that the disparity in their lives could tear them apart.

  “It won’t,” she assured him with more passion than conviction.

  “Graduation is six months away. I don’t want that to be an ending.”

  She was ecstatic that he was thinking ahead, that their love for each other was strong and deep, and that Jake felt it should last much longer than high school. “It won’t be an ending if we don’t make it one,” she assured him eagerly. “All we have to do is make it last!”

  Thoughtfully, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then, we’ll make it last,” he said, leaning in for another kiss, his voice so determined that Katie believed anything was possible…

  Now, however, she knew how hollow those promises had been. They had lasted throughout senior year, but then, once they had made love in the back of his miserably small convertible—and a few more times, for extra measure—those vows turned out to be as substantial as melting snowflakes. Jake had left her, and Lisa’s words ended up haunting her for a long, long time.

  Opening her lashes, Kate was surprised to realize it was still sunny and hot, and she was still thirty-six years old with a teenaged daughter and a difficult client somewhere in the adjacent building. Ducks paddled desultorily on the pond, and the world was just as it had been before her reflection.

  Still, where Jake Talbot came in, Kate’s resolve was solidified. No matter what happened with April’s audition for Talbot Industries, she was not going to let him get to her in any way, shape or form. He was her past. A very distant, unimportant, best forgotten past.

  And when are you going to tell him about April?

  With a shudder, Kate rose from the bench, not liking her thoughts at all. The time would come, but it wasn’t today. Today she had work to do, and as she examined the height of the sun, she realized she had better stop lollygagging around and get to it.

  Chapter Six

  “Oh, my God!” Delilah cried, jumping back from the table, hands pressed to her lips. “He tried to bite me! Did you see that!”

  “He just stretched his neck,” the director said in a long-suffering tone. “Turkeys do that.”

  “I can’t—do this!” Abruptly she burst into tears.

  Kate gazed anxiously at the cameraman who looked more amused than upset. The director, however, stuck two fingers in the collar of his shirt and jerked it away from his neck in frustration.

  The turkey commercial was not going well.

  She had come inside the building to find that her absence, though noted by April, who had wondered what had taken her so long, had not mattered at all. Delilah was being her usual difficult self, and Kate was fast losing patience with her at every level.

  “Can I do something?” April whispered as her gaze followed the director.

  “Just smile and be pleasant.”

  “Maybe I could talk to Delilah. You know, make her feel better, or something.”

  Kate half laughed. “Good luck.”

  “Let’s try it again,” the director said, heaving a sigh. “Max is a good turkey. He won’t bite you. Just look him in the eye and say, ‘Only the plumpest turkeys are from Tender Farms, so—’ ”

  “—keep the weight off and you won’t be picked.’ I know.” Delilah looked mutinous. She finger combed her hair and inched up her chin.

  Uh oh, Kate thought, stepping forward. “Could I get anyone something to drink? It’s pretty hot in here.”

  The cameraman looked grateful. The director shot her an annoyed glance, then stopped and shrugged. “That’d be much appreciated,” he admitted.

  April smiled. The turkey chose that moment to go into his gobble-gobble routine, stretching his neck and waddling around the table. Delilah shuddered, but April walked up to him, looked him dead in the eye and said, “Hey, Max, only the plumpest turkeys come from Tender Farms, so keep the weight off and you won’t be picked.”

  “You’re hired,” the director declared ironically, to which Delilah stamped her foot. Her face turned red with fury.

  “Put that damn turkey back in position!” she shrieked.

  Although resenting her tone, the director pointed for the cameraman to get back in position. The company’s gofers quickly put the turkey in the center of the table. Delilah gazed in steely-eyed determination at her nemesis, who cocked his head, looking for all the world as if he were actually listening. This time she repeated the lines letter perfect.

  “Cut!” the director called, amazed. “How was that?” he demanded of the cameraman.

  “Good. Real good.” He nodded.

  “Take a break. We’ll check it, but I think we’re done.”

  Kate and April exchanged glances. Generally filming commercials required a ton of takes because anything could happen to just one print. But Delilah had ticked them off well and good.

  “You want a job?” the director whispered at April. “You know something about talking turkey.” He smiled.

  “Ummm…thanks.”

  Delilah glared at her and said frostily to Kate, “I’ll need an advance.”

  “We’ll talk at the agency,” was Kate’s response. It was Rose Talent’s policy never to advance monies to the persnickety talent. Bad business. Wait until the client forked over the money before paying out earnings. Delilah knew the rules; she was just flexing her political muscles which were flimsy at best.

  With ill grace Delilah flounced out the door. By all rights she would be crying at Kate’s desk before the day was over.

  Kate and April followed after her, and the rest of the afternoon at the talent agency turned hectic. Kate was just about to call it a day when her phone rang and she heard from her accountant, Billy Simonson.

  “Could we meet for a drink?” he asked.

  Since Billy was happily married and a rather distant friend, Kate knew what having a drink together meant: bad news. Rose Talent Agency’s finances had been shaky since Ben’s death. Customers were afraid of change.

  “What are you going to tell me?” Kate asked nervously.

  Billy didn’t bother making her feel better. “As you know, there are some financial issues we should go over.”

  “Things haven’t gotten worse, have they?”

  “There’s that balloon payment ahead, Kate. You remember we talked about that.”

  “Yeah…” Kate was fairly adept at understanding financial statements. She knew there was a balloon payment for a loan on the business, but she had been determined to pull things together to keep operating soundly so she could make it. Now, she realized she wasn’t exactly certain when it was due. “How soon?” she asked, in growing alarm.

  “Not till the end of next year, but Kate, given projected revenue, I don’t think you’re going to make it.”

  “I just need a few more accounts,” she murmured. Or one really big one…

  “Yeah, I know.” There wasn’t a lot of hope in his voice.

  “I’ll meet you at six at that cafe near your office,” Kate told him.

  “I’ll be there,” he responded grimly.

  April stood outside the glass wall that divided Kate’s office, talking with Jillian. She looked up and waved happily at her mother. Kate smiled back, but it felt forced.

  I should keep Jake’s tip money, she thought with a spurt of resentment, then was ashamed the thought had even crossed her mind.

  Jake closed his eyes as he ran on the treadmill. Talbot Industries had recently added an exercise room complete with weight training machines and a juice bar. Jake himself wasn’t much for indoor workouts. He preferred to run along the paths of several of Portland’s parks; but today it was too blasted hot, and he w
as feeling strangely itchy and uncomfortable.

  And he knew what the reason was. It had a face. And the face was Katie Tindel’s.

  Kate Tindel Rose, he corrected himself, stabbing the electronic button on the treadmill to increase his speed.

  He didn’t want to think about her, but she had occupied his thoughts almost nonstop since last night’s encounter. He had gone to bed with her in mind and had spent a tense, restless night while his brain struggled to relegate her to some back corner where she had rested until he had seen her again. Then, this morning, while he was shaving, he had seen her face superimposed over his own image in the mirror.

  Growling beneath his breath, Jake ran until sweat poured down his brow in rivulets. He swiped it away with his arm, realizing there was no way to outrun his memories. In fact, there appeared nothing left but to wallow in them awhile. Maybe then he could put some perspective on the whole thing.

  With that in mind, he picked through the rubble inside his head where his memories of that long dead relationship lay. He recalled quite vividly that first time they had collapsed together on the sweeping back lawn of his parents’ house. His body had been on fire, and had she not drawn back, he would have “gone all the way,” to put it in high school lingo. He had felt no compunction to stop, and his heated desire had surprised him, especially since he had thought he was the master of his hormones since passing through junior high. He had congratulated himself, in fact, that he was in control of his sexual needs. As much as sex interested him—and it interested him a lot!—Jake had steered clear of involvements with females. A part of him had always known it would only create problems if he actually got entangled with one.

  That didn’t mean he hadn’t groped around with some girls at summer camp. Hell, no. But when it came to Lakehaven girls, he was cognizant of the pitfalls like his brother never had been.

  So, when Katie Tindel caught his eye, he had been foolish enough to believe she was a passing thing—nothing more than a momentary lapse. He liked her. He liked her company. She was certainly pleasant enough. And she was light-years smarter than the rest of the girls in his crowd.

  He had asked her out on a whim, then been taken by surprise by her candor and humor. Still, he hadn’t understood what was happening until that night by the lake shore. His blood had thundered in his head, his body on fire. Her skin had been so soft and pliant, and her lips trembling and sweet. He had brushed away her shirt with no effort at all, his mouth capturing one pert nipple in a hot suckling that brought her hands digging into his scalp, her body arching in surprise.

  He thrust against her hard, time and again, uselessly through their clothes, mindlessly in his heated state. His tongue found the cavern of her mouth, and he pushed eagerly inside, matching his body’s movements and undoubtedly making all kinds of desperate sounds in the process.

  He even grabbed her hand to help in his own pleasure, a memory that had the power to dig at his conscience and embarrass him even now! Her tender, exploratory touch drove him wild, and he pushed himself on her like a rutting bull, wanting nothing more than to drive inside her warm sheath, consumed by images of how slick and tight and hot she would be.

  He hadn’t wanted to quit, and when he dimly realized her hands had stopped caressing him, that they had tightened into fists, the rest of her body following suit, as she strove for control, he only doubled his efforts. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to make love. Fast and furious and damn the consequences. But his drugged conscience finally awakened and when he realized what he was asking—no, demanding!—he rolled away from her, consumed with guilt. Then, and only then, did he realize how far he had gone, how fast.

  God, what a lack of control! Unbelievable!

  Jake shook his head. Even now, years later, and in the midst of intense exercise, memories of those moments with Katie had the power to bring on a physical reaction. If he didn’t watch himself, he could have a hard-on to beat all hard-ons, right here! Checking his pulse, Jake pulled his thoughts back to a safer level.

  But it was the night they had driven to Seaside and back that their relationship had taken a leap into hyperspace. While he had been torturing himself with the memory of his out-of-control behavior, Katie had apparently been worrying that he didn’t want her. What a joke! He had backed off because he had been afraid he had scared her. She had taken it as a rejection.

  Straightening it all out had been such a relief. He had dragged her into his arms, fighting the confines of his Corvette, but not caring in the least. From his heart the words had sprung forth, “I love you,” and she had answered back in kind. He had clung to her like he never wanted to let her go, which wasn’t that far from the truth, and it was after that night that they began making plans for the future.

  But what do you know at eighteen? he asked himself now. Nothing. Not a damn thing. It was all misdirected feelings and vague notions of what the future would be. But it was powerful, nonetheless, and in those months between Christmas and graduation he had spent every moment he could with Katie Tindel, whispering plans for the future, kissing and touching and thrilling each other. They had discussed having sex—mature teenagers that they were then! he thought sardonically—but had decided to wait until they were “married.” Since that was bound to be a long way off, they had circumvented the real thing with that silly wedding of their own.

  But before that there had been a few little hurdles as well. His parents, for one. He had been reluctant to bring Katie home to meet them; he knew what their reaction would be. On Valentine’s Day, though, he did the deed, and it was a fiasco from start to finish.

  Katie had to work that night until eleven, so Jake planned to surprise her directly after school to give her her Valentine’s gift. He drove her home most days anyway, but this afternoon he detoured away from Lakehaven High and headed east on Sunset Highway, toward Portland.

  “Where are we going? I have to work at six,” she protested.

  “I know. It’ll be quick.”

  It was the dumbest idea, really, since the temperature was in the mid-thirties and the skies were overcast and threatening rain, or maybe even snow. But Jake didn’t think about that. It was Valentine’s Day and he was with the girl he loved, and too bad about the weather.

  He turned onto a two-lane road that meandered off the main highway into some rolling hills. Phillip, his brother, had told him about the old barn that was nearly condemned on an abandoned piece of property next to a small creek. Phillip was adept at finding out-of-the-way places to party.

  So, Jake squired Katie up a gravel-strewn path to where the gray, dilapidated building sat like a tired, forgotten soldier. For a moment they both stared at the structure in mutual worry, but then it was Katie who shrugged and said, “It should be on a postcard,” tugging Jake’s hand and dragging him the last few steps to where they squeezed inside the lopping barn door.

  The smell of musty hay and dirt greeted them, but the air was dry and the timbers seemingly firm. At least when Jake tested their strength they didn’t groan and creak and act like they were about to collapse.

  Katie looked down at the sack he toted in his left hand. “What’s inside?” she asked.

  It was dangerous. Jake had once again pressed his older brother into service, and Phillip had done the deed with a knowing smile plastered all over his face. Reaching in the sack, Jake withdrew a bottle of champagne and two plastic cups. Katie looked at him askance.

  “I hear it’s terrible stuff,” he admitted, following up with a bouquet of roses that he suddenly lifted from the rustling bag and presented to her with a flourish.

  “They’re beautiful!” she sighed, her eyes meeting his gaze above the bouquet, joy glimmering in their amber depths.

  “You’re beautiful,” he rejoined.

  “No, you’re beautiful,” she teased, and he grabbed her until she was laughing and writhing to get away from him as his fingers tickled her all over.

  “Uncle! Uncle!” she cried, gasping for breath.


  He released her ever so slowly, then poured them both a glass of champagne. They sipped it and discussed how champagne, wine and alcohol in general tasted like lighter fluid; then they exchanged their glasses for each other, falling into each other’s arms as if the whole thing had been orchestrated from the start.

  It was a quick event, all told, since Katie had to get back and they could easily freeze to death if they remained outdoors much longer. Plus, there was only so much making out either of them could stand without any real fulfillment, so they hurriedly left as daylight began to wane.

  But when they got back to Lakehaven, Jake was unwilling to let her go. “Come to my house,” he begged, and since he had never invited her before, Katie blinked at him several times, clearly unsure how to take him. “My parents will love you,” he lied.

  “Look how I’m dressed!” She gestured to her jeans and navy turtleneck sweater. His letter jacket completed the outfit as she had adopted it over the past few months, a move he heartily endorsed. He liked seeing her in it. He wanted the world to understand. She was his, and that was that.

  “They’re not going to care,” he assured her.

  He drove right to the house. The last time they had been on the property was when he had borrowed the canoe. His parents were rabid about him keeping up his grades, and their focus had narrowed to which college he would be accepted into and what courses would be best for him so that he could assume the role of president of Talbot Industries one day.

  “Oh, Jake, I don’t know…”

  He overrode her protests by simply ignoring them. He didn’t want to give her up. He wasn’t willing to, just yet. She hung back as they stood on the porch together and Jake searched for his key. In one of those frustrating moments he couldn’t immediately find it, so he growled an expletive, then yanked her close, his face buried in her hair.

  Her arms slipped around his nape, and he kissed her neck and face. “I love you,” Katie whispered, her mouth hot on his. “I love you more,” he muttered back, holding her close, fighting the temptation to run his hands beneath her ribbed sweater and massage her breasts. It was torture, this frantic, quick rubbing of each other’s flesh when nothing more could come of it. Yet, it was a sweet kind of madness, and when he pulled her hips up close to his, pressing his hardened sex against her in a way that left no doubt about his feelings, Katie’s soft sigh of regret was like a flame to dry tinder. He wanted her. He wanted her.