by Helen Conrad
She gave him a smug smile. “That’s why I don’t live in the city.”
He nodded. “Good thinking.”
She sighed happily and looked around at the clear, dark night. It didn’t even feel cold anymore. Was that because his hand warmed her?
He was still holding it and she knew that was probably not wise. It was liable to give her visions of possibilities that were way beyond the scope of this walk, but were there just the same. She was attracted to him. What was the use of denying it? She had a crush on him. A genuine, forty-karat infatuation.
She hadn’t felt this sort of excitement around a man since Alan. Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt this excited with him, either. She’d married Alan because he seemed so right, so perfect for the sort of life she wanted. And then he’d turned out to be so wrong.
But crush or no crush, she knew it would be crazy to take this any further, and she had no intention of doing so. The danger Lee posed was real, both to her and to her father. She had to be careful. When their walk ended she would take herself home and dream of how nice and strong and protective his hand had felt and how her heart had raced when he’d smiled deep into her eyes in that sexy way he had, and that would be that. She didn’t even feel any regret as yet. After all, it was more fun to have a crush than not to.
“What we really need on a night like this is some snow,” he said as they walked.
“There’s still a little left behind some of the buildings from the snowfall the other night. The night of the fire.” As soon as she’d said it, she wished she hadn’t. If only there were no fire to worry about. “That was the last snowfall,” she added lamely.
“Where were you that night?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual.
“Me?” She turned her head to look at him, suddenly remembering why she was here. “Don’t tell me you still have me in your sights?”
He squeezed her hand, reassuring her. “Hey, Ms. Paranoid. I’m just curious.”
Just curious, was he? Well, maybe so. But something told her he was always on the job, always combining real life with work. Still, there was no point avoiding the question. After all, she had nothing to hide. She thought back, trying to remember where she’d been the night of the big fire. “Hmm, let’s see. Oh.” She remembered suddenly. “I was on a date.”
The word seemed to send a shock wave through both of them. Lee turned his blue gaze on her, even more curious than before. “A date?”
“Yes.” She smiled, remembering. “I don’t do that very often.”
He found that concept puzzling. “Why not?” he asked.
She turned and looked into the yard they were passing. A little black dog came running out, but after one soft bark, retreated onto the porch and left them alone.
“Because I have other things in my life,” she said obstinately. “I don’t need a man to make me happy.”
He laughed softly, speculating on the sort of man she might be attracted to. “Tell me, who was this date with?”
“You wouldn’t know him.” She shook her head, knowing she should leave it at that. Let him wonder. Let him stew. Let him try to figure out who the mystery man was. But she didn’t have that sort of instinct, and before she knew it, she was blurting out the truth.
“Actually, he’s a new teacher at the high school, a friend of my brother Patrick’s. He teaches math and coaches the chess club. His name’s Greg Farmington.”
There, she’d said it all, she thought with mild despair. She’d certainly proved to him that she was no femme fatale. If she wanted a date, she needed her brother to reel one in.
But Lee didn’t seem to notice. Unconcerned about how she found men, he was more interested in what she did once she had one in her clutches. But he tried for a little finesse, a little subtlety. After all, it would be boorish to come right out and ask. “Uh, just what do people do when they date in Tyler?” he asked her.
She shrugged, looking toward the stars and wishing she were on one. She’d already ruined this subject for all time. “The same thing they do anywhere,” she said with a certain lack of enthusiasm. “They go out to dinner and maybe to the movies.”
He pulled her a little closer, not sure why she sounded melancholy, but definitely ready to help her get over it. “Do they ever just walk around and look at the Christmas lights?” he asked her softly.
She looked up at him in surprise. “This isn’t a date.”
“Isn’t it?” His eyes were luminous in the shadows, and she caught her breath.
“Of course not,” she forced herself to exclaim, her heart thumping. “This is a—a casual meeting.”
They stopped at a corner to let a car go by, then crossed. On the opposite corner was a small park, just some grass that had gone dormant for the winter and a few evergreens. As if they’d discussed it, they both lingered there, standing among the pines and listening to the breeze sing its song in them. They were no longer holding hands, though Lee wasn’t sure why not. He reached out and put the flat of his hand against the rough bark of a tree. It felt good against his palm. Everything was feeling good—the chilly air, the warmth of his jacket, the brush of pine needles against his cheek, and most of all, looking at Glenna. That made everything just a little better.
“Tell me more about this famous date,” he said at last. “What did you do? Where did you go?”
It had not been a very memorable evening. “We went to the old Heidelberg Restaurant out on the highway. I had shrimp scampi.”
“Good.” He nodded his satisfaction. “Lots of garlic.”
She hid a smile, flashing her eyes at him and then looking away. “He had it, too.”
“Clever fellow,” he said dryly. “Didn’t he realize you were giving him a signal?”
She shook her head, mystified. “What kind of signal do you think I was giving him?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That you didn’t want to kiss him.”
She started to speak, but a bubble of laughter stopped her, spilling out and ruining her dignity once again. But how could she help it? He was right.
“Did you eat garlic tonight?” he asked, pulling her closer and looking down into her eyes in that way that made her feel like swooning.
She didn’t say anything, but her eyes were huge as they met his, and she shook her head. He smiled and glanced down at her lips, looking so darn superior and sure of himself she wanted to hit him. But instead, she held his gaze for a long moment and smiled back. He touched her cheek, brushing aside a wisp of hair. “Did he try to kiss you good-night?”
She gave him a significant look. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Of course it’s not any of my business,” he said candidly, his hand sliding down to curl around one side of her neck. “This whole conversation isn’t any of my business. But we’ve gone beyond politeness. So tell me.” He searched her face. “Did he kiss you?”
“Lee!”
He moved toward her, suddenly so close she could hardly breathe, so tall, so large that she was overwhelmed by his presence and thrilled by it at the same time.
“Did he put his hand behind your head and draw you to him, like this?” he murmured, his mouth only inches from hers. “Did he tilt your face up and look longingly down into your eyes, like this and...”
There were no more words. She shivered in anticipation, and then his mouth took hers and the night turned from blue-black to silver. Liquid silver poured through her, hot and slippery; crystal silver sprayed around her, brittle and sparkling with light. His eyes were molten silver, like a wolf’s, and her hair was spun silver, flying around her head like a web. But most of all, his hands were silver, hard and smooth and sure as they slid inside her jacket and measured the length of her spine, and at his touch, she melted like wax, like butter, like silver when it was hot.
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She was moving in a dream and she didn’t want to wake. She wanted him close, closer, and she clung to him, opening to him in a wild way, so free, so trusting, as though nothing could harm her as long as he was there. And just to be sure he knew, she made a sound in her throat, a low, primitive sound that meant something that couldn’t be put into words, but she knew he understood.
And he did. He was moving in a haze of heat, a red, shimmering mist of desire, and he knew he had to resist it. It had come too fast, was too intense for a mere kiss. He had to control it or it would control him.
But God, she felt so good he didn’t want to lose her. He wanted to hold her to him and keep the comfort coming, keep the warmth, let it develop quickly into something more, feel the urgency swell inside him, take her body with his and find that hot, sweet release. It would be so good, he could tell. It might even make him forget...
Forget his sanity. Forget his humanity. Forget that this was one nice woman who didn’t deserve to be used.
Oh, come on, a part of him chided. She’d get something out of it, too. She’s divorced and doesn’t date much. It’s probably been a long time for her. She’s probably dying for it right now. You’d be doing her a favor.
The temptation was strong, and it would be easy to give in to it, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. He pulled back, groggy with the thick, sweet taste of her, the aroused feel of her, so soft, so round. She stared up at him with eyes that were blurred, as though she were still seeing silver, and he caressed her cheek, smoothing back her hair and taking in every detail of her lovely face.
She was special. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in a long, long time. The way she’d kissed him, the way she’d responded to his urgency told him it would be good between them. He wanted that with every fiber in him. He knew what he was risking, but he couldn’t imagine letting her go.
“Come on,” he said huskily. “We’d better get on back.”
She didn’t say a word, and she stumbled a bit coming out of the little park, but he had an arm around her shoulders now, and he held her until she regained her composure.
They walked along in silence until the bed-and-breakfast was just ahead. As they reached the front yard, he stopped and looked down. Was there a chance they might make something of this evening, of what had happened between them? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wanted to, wanted to see her again, to kiss her again, to have her in his arms. So he couldn’t leave her with any illusions. That wouldn’t be fair. He had to be honest with her. He couldn’t live with himself if he wasn’t as straight with her as she was with him.
“Glenna, I have to tell you something,” he said quickly, wanting to get it all out as soon as possible.
She looked up expectantly, still breathless from the kiss, still moving in a dream, and he frowned, wishing she didn’t look so ingenuous.
“This isn’t pleasant, but it has to be done. Tomorrow... tomorrow I’m going to announce that it looks like the fire was deliberately set. The preliminary assessment is a fire of suspicious origin. It will take longer to get a final reading, but that is what I have to tell the town tomorrow.”
She felt as though he’d punched her in the stomach, and for a moment she was afraid she wasn’t going to be able to breathe.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, closing her eyes. Then they flew open again. “Do you have a suspect?” she asked him, dreading the answer.
He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“Think about it,” he said reproachfully, and she nodded, realizing he was right. “Glenna, you can’t tell anyone about this. You have to let me make the announcement before you talk to anyone about it.”
“All right.” Her head was spinning. First the kiss, now this. She wasn’t sure she could cope with this wild roller-coaster ride. She shook her head to get rid of the grogginess she was feeling. “I’ve got to get home,” she murmured. “My kids—”
At her words, his head snapped around. He frowned. “Kids?” he said quietly, a feeling of dread filling the pit of his stomach. “You have kids?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “You saw them the other morning.”
“Those two kids coming up the walk when I left?” He winced, landing back on earth with a thump. The dream hadn’t lasted very long, had it? “I thought they were with your friend.”
“No. Pam’s my sister-in-law.” It still hadn’t occurred to Glenna that the existence of her children bothered him. “She had taken them to see the Christmas windows in Gates, and my grandma.”
A vision of his own two at that age hit him like a migraine headache. That did it. There was no way he would ever deal with kids again. He had to cut it off right now and not leave her dangling. He owed her that much at least.
“Glenna.” He stood before her, not touching her. “Glenna, I have to tell you something else. I—I’m sorry I kissed you.”
She thought he was joking at first. “You are?”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” His eyes were hard now, no more laughing, no more teasing. “It was a mistake, one I shouldn’t have made. I’m just here for a few days. I’m not going to get involved with anyone. Especially not someone with kids.”
She stared at him, bewildered. “What do you have against kids?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want to get involved with them.”
“But—”
“Goodbye, Glenna. I’m sorry.”
Turning, he strode quickly up the walk and onto the porch, and then he was gone. She stood staring after him, wondering what had happened. He’d been so much fun to talk to, and then the kiss had been fireworks for her soul, fireworks like she’d never experienced before. Then this. He was sorry, but he was going to have to ruin her town and everyone in it.
Oh, by the way. I shouldn’t have kissed you. That was a mistake. Just erase it. What did they say on her computer screen at school? Delete. Just delete. It never happened.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LIZA BARON FORRESTER smiled shakily as, hand in hand with her daughter, she passed Glenna in the hall on the way into TylerTots playroom. It was Liza’s day to volunteer, which she did in order to get a reduced rate on Margaret Alyssa’s tuition, and she would be staying all afternoon today, just as Glenna was.
“What is it?” Glenna asked. She’d never seen her friend look so upset. Her own hands were full of milk cartons containing poster paints in every color of the rainbow, or she would have grabbed her by the arm to stop her.
Liza hesitated for a moment, looking uncertain. “Haven’t you heard?” she asked dully.
Glenna frowned. “Heard what?”
Liza gave a short, mirthless laugh. “You must be about the only one in town, Glenna. You just don’t listen to gossip, do you?”
Glenna shrugged. “I hate gossip.” She shook her head, searching her friend’s eyes. “But I do care about you, Liza. If something is hurting you, I want to know about it.”
Liza sighed. “Oh, all right. I’ll tell you when we get a moment free. It’s about me, my family...and the arson suspect.” She glanced up and down the hall at the others who were arriving. “I’ll tell you later,” she whispered, giving Glenna a sad look. “It’s sort of complicated.”
And she hurried off after her blond daughter, who had broken loose and was running for the stairs that led into the sanctuary of the little church.
Glenna looked down at her hands. They were shaking. This wouldn’t do. She looked around quickly to see if anyone else had noticed, but it didn’t seem so. Taking a deep, long breath, she steadied herself firmly and went on cleaning up the painting materials.
She had a taping session planned and she went ahead, setting it up, though she couldn’t get Liza’s comment out of her thoughts. She’d heard the rumors about the stranger in town, Michael Ke
nton. Was that who Liza was talking about? Or was it someone else?
The town had gone into shock for the first few hours after Lee had made his announcement of his suspicions regarding the fire. Very soon the place had gone wild, with men arguing in the middle of the street, women crying, people demanding a scapegoat be found.
Things had calmed down now, but the atmosphere was still tense around town. People’s jobs were riding on this, people’s lives. Glenna could understand why they were upset. She herself was upset. And everyone was waiting for the name of the official suspect to become public.
The thought of that chilled her blood. Lee had been interviewing a lot of folks in town. Who knew what he’d found—or whom he would accuse?
She hadn’t seen him since two nights before, when they had walked together to see the lights. She still didn’t understand just what had happened that night—why he had turned cold so suddenly. Maybe she would never know.
Right now she wanted to get her mind back on her work. She had her video camera ready and, with Daphne Sullivan, another mom who worked part time at TylerTots, was preparing the children to dress up in costumes. Each child’s search for just the right thing to wear would be recorded, as well as the resulting play. Glenna had no set method to this. She didn’t want a staged look to the activity, so began filming as they straggled into the room and started spontaneously donning costumes from the big trunk in the corner of the room.
As Glenna taped the scene, scanning the room and getting everyone in the picture, Daphne helped one child choose an Indian headdress and a wampum belt to wear. The children’s attention was captured, and things began to fall into place. Glenna watched through the viewfinder as the children giggled and shrieked and threw a feather boa in the air and caught it. Lovely redheaded Sarah Fleming had stopped in to see what was going on, and she discreetly snagged the boa and hid it so the children would calm down and get back to choosing costumes.
“What are you going to be, Megan?” she asked Glenna’s little girl, who was putting a piece of silver fabric on her head.