by Sandy Loyd
Paul got another fire going in his room, then started for the kitchen, glad he’d had the sense to load the wood bin before two feet of snow made it more difficult.
He found that he was starving, and rummaged through the cupboards and fridge. Thankful they’d stocked up the night before, he found plenty to work with. After fixing sandwiches, he poured himself a glass of wine, hoping to dull his out-of-control thoughts. To complete the feast, he added cookies and chips.
Plate in hand, he went to the guesthouse and knocked. “I fixed something to eat.”
Kate opened the door and eyed the offered food. “Oh you sweet, sweet man. How’d you know I was ravenous?” Grinning, she quickly took the plate from him. “Thank you!”
Paul couldn’t contain his smile at the animated joy in both her voice and her expression. She certainly had a zest for food. Then his thoughts shifted, as the notion of her looking at him with the same eagerness and hunger infiltrated his brain. Blood rushed south in a hurry.
He swore under his breath. No one had ever affected him this way. “It was only fair, since you made breakfast,” he murmured, before swiftly retreating. All she had to do was smile at him and need turned his brain into mush, a feeling as unnerving as it was unwanted.
Back in the main house, he grabbed his lunch, along with the wine he’d poured earlier, went over to the table, and sat.
Damn! It felt as if he was caught in some kind of Twilight Zone episode. Though not funny, the irony of the situation did amuse him. He’d always had a twisted sense of humor. Maybe later—years from now—he’d be able to laugh.
As he ate and sipped his wine while looking out the window and seeing nothing but white, Paul contemplated his options for the evening. He could go to a movie, maybe even check out one of the many bars. Friday night meant Tahoe City would swell with weekend visitors. For some reason, the thought of spending time with someone other than the woman in the guesthouse just didn’t seem as thrilling or as exciting.
He sighed. There was always work. No! His thoughts were too jumbled. No way would he be able to concentrate. He raked a hand through his hair and rubbed his neck. How had his life become even more messed up? How had he gone, in a matter of twenty-four hours, from pining after a woman who didn’t love him like he wanted, to pining after another who belonged to his brother?
Well, just make the best of it and stay in your room as much as possible. Don’t let her know she bothers you.
His breath came out in one loud groan. If his secret ever came out, she’d have the means to get even with his badgering over the years. Wouldn’t that be some kind of poetic justice?
He walked over to the sink with his plate. After rinsing it, he stuck it in the dishwasher, then topped off his wineglass and retraced the steps to his room.
Warmth from the fire hit him. The room glowed. He loved fires and he loved the snow. He’d relax and enjoy the rest of the afternoon until dinner, absorbed with TV or a magazine. Paul grabbed the remote, hit the On button, and scrolled through channels until he spotted an animal show that caught his interest. But after staring at the screen for too long without paying attention to it, he shut off the TV and walked over to the huge window.
Snow continued falling, silently providing a sense of isolation in the view outside. His focus landed on the blue lake, barely visible with all the white in the foreground. Nothing disturbed the quiet, which added to his loneliness.
No longer willing to wait for something that would never happen, he sighed and finally accepted the truth. After spending such a wonderful day with Kate, he realized he wanted more than chasing a pipe dream with Judith. A heck of a lot more.
Chapter 6
Long after finishing her sandwich, Kate rested her shoulders against the bed’s propped-up pillows and, for the umpteenth time, tried to focus on the same page in the latest suspense novel she’d brought. Disturbing thoughts insisted on annoying her, interfering with her concentration. Unable to continue pretending interest, she put the book down and stared at the ceiling.
In seconds, memories of the day consumed her—a day where Paul had always stayed a step ahead of her. It was exhilarating and frustrating at the same time, considering his competitive drive, as strong as hers, hadn’t allowed her to gain any advantage. It was as if some instinctive male trait of his burst forth, shouting his supremacy over her and dominating her in some age-old battle between the sexes. Because he was stronger and more stubborn, he was winning.
She’d never felt this on edge because of a man—any man—not even James. Even worse, the day only increased her disillusionment with her current relationship. Too much time had slipped by since she and James had shared such a carefree day. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time, which only highlighted bigger problems—including having to endure a trip back to Chicago for her sister Chrissie’s wedding to face her family without James, or the engagement ring she expected to be wearing.
Too agitated to keep gawking at the ceiling, she jumped up and started pacing. Why had she pushed for this weekend? Why did she find Paul attractive? Why, why, why?
She’d never been fickle, just the opposite in her pursuit of James. So how could her thoughts shift from the love of her life to Paul so readily? In less than a day?
Her relationship with James had been an experience—one she was beginning to determine had no happy ending. Actions spoke louder than words. She’d given him several months to make a decision that he shouldn’t even have had to think twice about. As much as it hurt to realize the truth, giving him more time to commit would only be wasted, which in the end would be a mistake. She understood that now and certainly had no desire to make a bigger mistake by becoming involved with Paul when he still loved Judith. That could only bring on more heartache for everyone involved. Judith was her best friend. She had only to remember that!
Heavens, she needed a drink. Something. Anything. She needed to stop thinking of him. Most of all, she needed to keep him from discovering her unsettling attraction to him.
Like the night before, she stuck her head out the door to listen. The coast looked clear. She stole across the patio, stepping around the snowdrifts, and stopped at the patio door to peer inside. Still clear. She crept into the kitchen. A bottle of the Puligny-Montrachet chardonnay he’d bought the night before, per her request for their French dinner, sat on the counter, uncorked. She quickly poured a glass, then tiptoed out the way she’d come.
Back in her room, she sipped and paced, wishing her foolish thoughts would cease.
Maybe when James arrived, seeing him again and being able to compare him side by side with Paul would jar some sense into her. Maybe her attraction stemmed from the fact that the two brothers looked so much alike. The minute the thought came out, she rejected it. They were like night and day. No two people who looked so much alike could be any more different from each other.
Kate sat back on the bed and picked up the book again. After a long pretense of absorption, she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Almost 6:00 p.m.! Breathing a sigh of relief, she rose, grabbed her half-full glass and headed for the kitchen. The door to Paul’s room was closed.
Thank the stars above, she’d be able to cook in peace.
She topped off her wine, took a small sip, and set the glass on the counter, feeling somewhat better. I can deal with my attraction. Smiling, she gathered the necessary ingredients—ham, eggs, three kinds of white cheeses, garlic, butter, half-and-half, onions, mushrooms, fresh marjoram and basil—then got to work chopping, grating, and mincing.
Finally, everything was ready for the oven, but the temperature wasn’t high enough yet.
Her cell phone rang. She wiped off her wet hands, reached into her pocket, and dug it out. James’ name flashed on the screen.
It’s about time she heard from him. “Hey, James. How far are you? I’m cooking dinner now.” He cleared his throat, and the sound alerted her. “Is something wrong?”
His hesitation before another throat clea
ring were sure signs that her intuition was dead on.
“I’m still in the Bay Area.”
“What?” She’d expected his delay, but this news caught her off guard. Anger slid its way up her spine as it straightened one vertebra at a time. She took a deep breath and counted to ten before saying, “I thought you’d be here hours ago and now you’re telling me you haven’t even left?”
“I’m sorry, Kate. I got caught up with a problem that took longer than I thought it would.”
Of course he did. There was always a problem that was more important than spending time with her.
“Unfortunately, I doubt I’ll make it up tonight.”
“You’re not serious?” At this point, holding in her anger took too much effort. “Tell me this is a joke,” she said more harshly than intended.
“Have you looked at the weather?”
“Yeah, duh,” she said, glancing out the window. “It’s snowing.” White stuff was still coming down and drifted halfway up the porch rail. Even so, she went over to the television, clicked the remote, and switched to the weather channel. Across the bottom of the screen flashed a winter storm warning for the Northern California/Northern Nevada area. Old news! If he’d left on time, as promised, he’d have missed the worst part and have made it to Tahoe hours ago.
“The highway patrol just closed I-80,” James said. “Highway 50 was closed hours ago.”
“You’re kidding.” Still praying that somehow he was teasing her, she read the scrolling banner on the TV that confirmed what he’d said and her mood took a nosedive.
“I wish I were,” he said. “But it doesn’t look good. The storm’s producing so much snow, the plows can’t keep up.” She wanted to cry when he added, “They’re also saying that when they reopen, people should stay off the roads since they’re predicting another twenty inches tonight and maybe more if the system doesn’t move.”
“Great!” She scrunched her nose while rubbing her temple. Could anything else happen to make this the worst weekend of her life? “You missed an awesome day of skiing.”
“I know. I wish I could’ve broken away earlier. At least you and Paul are making the best of it.”
“Yeah, me and Paul.” If only James hadn’t let her down again. But he had. Big-time. She now understood what Paul meant when he’d accused her of putting up with too much shit from James. Hell, the Paul she’d come to know would never renege on a promise. Kate blinked back the moisture filling her eyes as the truth hit her head-on. She was worth more. And Paul, using his biting wit, had tried to tell her that for years.
“I was thinking we could drive up next weekend,” James said. “The powder should last a few days, don’t you think?”
“Probably.” There was no way could she count on him. He’d disappointed her one time too many. Whether expected or not, it still hurt to know it was time to say good-bye to him and this one-sided relationship. What made the pain worse was the realization that she should have let go sooner. A few tears trickled down her face. She wiped them off and swallowed hard. “We skied in knee-deep powder today,” she said, hoping to rub it in a bit to make him regret not coming up earlier, despite the futility of the wish.
She switched off the TV and turned back to the kitchen. “It was one of the best days I’ve ever had, and tomorrow looks to be even better.”
“Sounds like I missed out. I’ll make it up to you next weekend. Will you be okay with Paul by yourself?”
“Sure.” Her lips curled into a semblance of a smile. “We’re having loads of fun.”
“I hate to leave you hanging like this, especially since you don’t like being with him.”
“Judith didn’t make it either, so Paul and I are on our own.”
“Ooooh. Now I’m doubly sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll survive.” Just like she’d survived all those other instances he’d canceled.
“We’ll get together during the week for dinner to make plans, okay?” he said, like it was some kind of consolation prize.
Strangely enough, the idea of spending a weekend together no longer appealed to her. Forgiving and forgetting simply weren’t in her this time. “I don’t think so.” Despite saying the hardest words she’d ever spoken, a surge of confidence kept her on track. “There’s no reason.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He truly sounded puzzled.
She smiled through her tears. “I mean, I don’t want to go out to dinner with you or go skiing with you next weekend.”
There was dead silence on the phone, until Kate ended the conversation with, “I’ll give you a call when I feel more up to it.” Then, she disconnected.
Suddenly, the burdensome weight of self-doubt lifted off her shoulders—which seemed odd, considering the invisible fist squeezing her heart. Despite the pain, she felt freer.
She stared at the phone, wondering why she’d settled for less for far too long, and why had it taken so much time to recognize the fact. Thank God, Chrissie’s engagement jarred her into thinking clearly.
The ding on the gas oven indicating it had reached the right temperature drew her attention. Her dinner! She’d almost forgotten about it. Thankful for the task of cooking to keep her from dwelling over her situation, she dashed back to the kitchen.
She opened the oven door and placed her soufflé inside. She set the timer, then started on the chocolate melting cake she’d planned for dessert.
Moments later, her cake in the oven, she glanced up to see Paul sauntering, barefoot, toward the kitchen, stretching and looking mighty hunky in jeans and a navy turtleneck that highlighted his blond good looks.
“Man, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he teased with an approving expression.
As he walked across the room, her focus remained on him. Too bad James wasn’t more like his brother. Heat rose up her face when the thought registered.
“I’ve never smelled anything like it,” he murmured, sniffing and indicating the oven. He reached for the handle, but her hand on his wrist stopped him.
“You’ll ruin it if you open the door now.”
“Wouldn’t want to do that. But…” He pierced her with a stare. “I’m dying to see if it tastes as good as it smells.”
Her breath caught in her throat and her heartbeat quickened. “It will.”
“Promise?” His grin tightened the pretzel in her stomach, changing the knot from hurt to tension in seconds, as her mind went blank.
“Promise what?”
“Promise me that it will taste as good as it smells?”
She cleared her throat, struggling for normalcy, and ignored the way his eyes crinkled at the edges, which only added to his appeal. “Of course it will.”
“Then I can wait.” His tone and look made her feel as if he was talking about something other than chocolate melting cake or her soufflé.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Stop gawking at him!
Her gaze shifted lower. “Well, I’m glad you approve,” she said, mentally shaking the effects of his nearness and finally remembering her phone call. “By the way, it’s just going to be us tonight.”
“Really?” His brow wrinkled with concern. “I thought James would be here by now.”
“No, I-80 and Highway 50 are closed and there’s no relief from the storm in sight, so he’s not coming at all.” She went back to fixing an endive salad and had to swat his hand again when he tried to steal a bite. “Here, do something useful while I finish dinner.” She opened the silverware drawer, using it as a buffer to get her mind off the idea of him putting those hands on her. “Go set the table.” Whoa. I need to quit thinking such thoughts!
Grinning, Paul snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
Don’t look at him. Ignore him. Remember Judith…he belongs to her.
Paul got busy and soon the meal was ready.
When she picked up the salads, he pulled them from her hands. “You go and sit.” His nod indicated the table. “Since you cooked, the least
I can do is serve you.”
“Okay. But I should warn you. I could get used to being served,” she said, following him and trying to extinguish the flames in her belly that his nearness recently started igniting.
He laughed as he set a bowl at the tip of each fork, then rushed to pull out her chair. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
More heat streaked up her face as his intense gaze met hers. Glancing down, she sat, hiding her reaction in the act of putting her napkin on her lap. He left and returned with the soufflé and garlic bread, without giving her heartbeat enough time to slow to normal.
Damn. If only he didn’t love her best friend. If only Judith didn’t love him. If only he’d stop being so nice. A lot of good ‘if onlys’ did when not one of them helped keep her attraction in check.
“Say when.” Now standing beside her, he added a spoonful of the egg and ham mixture onto her plate.
“That’s good,” she said. His acting as if her desires were the most important thing to focus on was heady stuff and hard to ignore. Despite knowing it would never go anywhere, she couldn’t help but enjoy his attention.
He eventually sat and served himself.
They’d barely started to eat when the lights flickered out. The room was completely dark except for the softly flickering candles Paul had placed on the table earlier.
Double damn, Kate thought, glancing at him. Shadows fluttered over his face, lending it a roguish appearance that any woman would find hard to resist, her included.
She averted her eyes, reminding herself that eating this close to him with the lights on was difficult enough. In candlelight, it was near impossible to stave off her errant thoughts of being completely alone with him. How would she make it through the meal without slipping?
Chapter 7
Kate picked up her wine and downed a healthy swallow. Once she could speak without giving herself away, she asked nonchalantly, “I wonder how long the electricity will be out.”