by Julie Caille
“No. Not really. It’s just that he...asked me to go to bed with him.” Confidences had never come easily to Alicia, but with Sharon they just seemed to slip out. She’d even told her new friend about Kenny and Tracy.
“And you didn’t,” Sharon surmised.
“No.”
Sharon’s gaze slid sideways. “I bet you were tempted.”
“More than you can guess.” Alicia studied her toes. “But it would only complicate things. My life is complicated enough without that.”
“Did he understand?”
“I’m not sure.” Alicia wrinkled her brow, trying to remember exactly what had been said. “Maybe not.”
Sharon slid into the water, her hands on the rim of the pool while her legs made slow, lazy kicks. After awhile, she said, “By complicated, do you mean this business with Ronnie?”
Alicia hesitated. Why was it such a difficult question to answer? This was Sharon, for pete’s sake, not her mother. Talking would probably be therapeutic.
“It’s more than that,” she replied. “In a way I guess I’m still getting over my divorce. And my job at Crandon is competitive and stressful. I didn’t realize how much I needed a break until I’d been here a few days. I hadn’t taken any vacation days in four years.”
“Good grief, why not?”
Alicia scooped up a handful of water and splashed it onto her thighs. “I’ve always wanted to be successful, but after I found out about Kenny’s affair, I started to drive myself even more. I suppose it’s some sort of defense mechanism left over from childhood.” Her lips curved with remembered frustration. “When I was growing up, my parents expected me to excel. I always felt that if I wanted their love, I had to earn it. So I got straight A’s and won spelling bees. Now that I’m older, they expect me to have a successful career like Caroline did. So that’s what I’m doing.”
Sharon’s legs stilled, her brown eyes clouded with sympathy. “But since you understand why you do it, why don’t you give yourself a break?”
Alicia sighed. “I try, but now it’s a habit. Just lately, my career seems to be the only part of my life that’s successful. My ego needs that to compensate for the failures.”
“And what about Luke? Is that how you see him? As one of your failures?”
Alicia gave a wry smile. “Well, you could hardly call what we had a success. I’m afraid to try again. I think I must have a low tolerance for pain right now. Anyway, he and I...well, we just don’t click anymore.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” Sharon said dryly. “I’ve seen you two together. There’s something there, a connection, a rightness. If you want my opinion, I’d say you’ve both got it bad for each other.”
Alicia shook her head. “Not a rightness. A sizzle, maybe. Our hormones connect. Not our souls.”
“Jim and I started out with a sizzle. It jump-started straight into love.” Sharon looked at her. “And what about Ronnie? Caring for him will be tough, especially if your job is so demanding.”
The words were blunt, but kindly meant, and should not have sent a cold frisson down Alicia’s spine. “I can manage. I’ve arranged for a good friend to take care of him after school. She lives close by, two condos over from me. Besides, I’ve already redecorated. Ronnie’s room is ready and waiting.”
“Oh, Alicia.” Sharon reached over to squeeze her hand. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing. Luke and I have to reach a decision, and I want that decision to be fair. I don’t want my job to be made into an issue. After all, he works, too.”
“Have you considered,” Sharon asked carefully, “what it would do to Luke if you took Ronnie away from him?”
Alicia lowered her head. “I can’t help it. I love Ronnie, too. He’s all I have left of my sister. Besides—” she faltered a little “—I’ve always wanted children. The irony is that I married a man who despised them. If ever a man was careful about birth control, it was Kenny.” Her mouth twisted as she eased down into the water. “Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay?”
“All right.”
By tacit consent, they floated and paddled for a while without speaking. Alicia closed her eyes, feeling the soothing, sensual caress of warm liquid against her flesh. It made her think of Luke, of his hard, branding kiss and the look in his eyes when he’d said that he wanted her.
The memory had kept her awake half the night. Eventually she’d climbed out of bed at three in the morning and gone downstairs for a drink. In the end, she’d sat on the sofa in the living room and read all the books she’d bought for Ronnie at the book fair.
Something nudged at her mind. “Sharon.”
“Yes?” Sharon glanced over at her.
Alicia lifted a hand, sending a spray of droplets dancing across the water’s surface. “Do you remember that book I bought? The one about the child who had leukemia?”
“Yes, of course. We sold sixteen copies.”
“Did you realize that the author was the child himself?”
Sharon nodded. “That’s what makes it so successful. Children relate well to books written by other children.”
“How would a child go about doing something like that? I mean, what if Ronnie were to write a book?”
Sharon narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know about getting it published, but there are two or three contests he could enter.”
“That’s good enough. Do you think you could get me some information about those contests?”
“I think so...” Sharon’s head cocked as if something had caught her attention. “Goodness, is that Jim’s car I hear?” She sounded as breathless as a girl on the way to her first prom. The back door opened just as Sharon scrambled out of the pool. She gave a little shriek as her husband whipped a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. “Jimmy, you remembered!”
Feeling like a fifth wheel, Alicia climbed out of the pool while Jim Redford laughed and bear-hugged his wife. “Of course I remembered, sweet cheeks. How could I not?”
“Is it your anniversary?” Alicia inquired.
“Not our wedding anniversary,” Sharon said coyly.
Jim winked. “Something just as memorable. It was six years ago today that I first set eyes on this gorgeous creature.”
“Blind date,” Sharon added. “And he almost didn’t show!”
Alicia smiled and offered congratulations. She truly was glad for the Redfords, but witnessing their joy also reinforced her own feelings of loneliness. She and Kenny had never had that kind of closeness. She and Nick didn’t have it, either.
Then the truth hit her.
More than anything in the world, she wanted to share such a bond with Luke.
Yes, she had gone and done the unthinkable. She had fallen head over heels, mind-mushingly in love with him all over again. Scratch that. Since she was being honest, she might as well admit that she had never been out of love with him. She had simply fallen further, harder and deeper.
And she didn’t need a crystal ball to tell her that it was going to hurt a heck of a lot more the second time around.
* * *
Luke came home that night to be enveloped by the mouth-watering smell of apple pie and roast chicken. The wonderful aromas drew him down the hall to the kitchen, where a sight so domestic, so welcoming, greeted his eyes that he had to blink twice. Alicia stood at the sink, paring potatoes, her sweet tush swaying in time to an oldies tune on the radio. Ronnie sat at the table, drawing a picture. And Daffy sprawled like a sultana in the middle of everything.
Still and quiet in the doorway, Luke drank in the scene. He ought to be used to it by now, but he wasn’t. Until three weeks ago, he’d never known how good it felt to walk into his house and find a woman and child waiting for him. He’d never known the luxury of having his dinner waiting for him after a long, stressful day. Heaven couldn’t be any better than this.
He had to remind himself that it was an illusion, that the woman wasn’t his, that the bubble could burst. Would burst, he reflected. This
wasn’t permanent. He needed to remember that Alicia the Career Woman must be bored to death between the tedium of household chores and bookkeeping duties. Still, he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
Holding that thought, he walked over and set his hands on her soft, slender shoulders. “Hi, I’m home.”
“Eek!” Jumping as though he’d stuck her with a pin, she spun around so fast the blade of her knife barely missed his arm. “Luke! For goodness sake, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry,” he said, his smile rueful. “I guess I really will have to wear a bell, if only for my own protection.”
He removed the knife from her hand and set it on the counter, observing the way her expression changed, grew guarded. She probably hadn’t forgiven him for the way he’d come on to her. He couldn’t blame her if she hadn’t. Still, the way she looked right now, with her hair tousled and her eyes all wide and vulnerable, made him feel just as lustful and possessive as he had last night. Maybe more.
Quelling his politically incorrect inclinations, he glanced over at Ronnie. “Hey, squirt. Whatcha drawing?”
“Power Rangers,” Ronnie said without looking up.
As Luke removed a bottle of dinner wine from the cupboard, Alicia went back to peeling potatoes. “I fired your cleaning woman today,” she said.
Luke nearly dropped the bottle. “Why did you do that?” he asked, staring at her back.
“She doesn’t do a good job. You’re wasting your money on her.”
Lifting an eyebrow, he poured wine into two glasses and set one at Alicia’s elbow. “Carmella’s all right. At least she’s honest.”
“Everything she does, I can do better. In half the time.”
“That’s nice to know, but you’re a bit overqualified for the job, aren’t you? You’re not exactly Susie Homemaker.”
To his surprise, Alicia looked offended. “I’m perfectly capable of doing housework. More capable than Carmella, that’s for sure. Last time she was here, it took five hours for the kitchen floor to dry and it wasn’t even clean. And she used steel wool on the kitchen counter. Besides,” she added, setting the pot of potatoes onto the stove, “she kicked Daffy.”
Luke glanced at Daffy, whose reproachful gaze seemed to confirm this. “Then you were right to fire her.” He braced a hip against the edge of the counter. “And I didn’t say you weren’t capable. I just thought you’d be bored.”
“Actually I don’t mind it at all.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something kind of important?”
“What?” Her lashes lifted.
“You’ll be leaving soon,” he said, more harshly than he intended. “And then I’ll have nobody—” he paused for the tiniest instant “—to clean my house.”
Something flickered in her eyes, but before he could analyze it, the telephone rang. As luck would have it, the caller was good old Nick, the white-collar wuss. With an inward snarl, Luke handed the receiver to Alicia, who took it around the corner into the living room.
Luke carried his wine to the table and sat down next to Ronnie. “So what’s new, pal?” he asked, straining to hear what Alicia was saying.
“Nothin’.”
“Nothing, huh? How was school?”
“Okay.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothin’.”
Giving up, Luke sipped his wine and eavesdropped shamelessly. It sure didn’t sound like a conversation between two people in love. In fact, it sounded more like a business call. Very polite, very brief. No endearments, no hushed tones, no whispered phrases.
When she returned the phone to its cradle, she looked perfectly composed. No blush, no excitement, no distinctive sheen to her eyes. Amazing, he thought. If she were his woman, he’d have been saying things that put color into her cheeks.
Then his insides twisted. What was he thinking? She had been his once. And he’d let her go. And she was never going to be his again. Since he doubted he’d ever get married, Ronnie was his best shot at having a family. Through Ronnie, he could prove to himself that he could be a good father.
Alicia was only an obstruction to that goal.
But it was difficult to think of her as an obstruction when she fitted so nicely into his life. She fitted nicely against his body, too. And he’d bet his entire life savings that he’d fit nicely into hers.
The thought almost made him groan aloud. Damn it, he couldn’t go on living like this—being almost perpetually aroused with no hope of physical release. He’d never had this kind of problem before Alicia walked back into his life. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do about it short of taking matters into his own hands, so to speak. And that just wasn’t going to cut it because the problem was more than sexual. As much as it scared him to admit it, the problem involved his feelings.
And every one of those feelings was coming straight from his thudding heart.
* * *
Alicia jogged along the side of the road, perspiration trickling down the valley between her breasts. Maybe she should have skipped the aerobic workout since it was dark now. But Luke had been late getting home from work, so dinner had been delayed. And anyway, she thought stubbornly, this gave him some time alone with Ronnie.
Ignoring the stitch in her side, she gritted her teeth and kept going. During the past year, she’d made great progress toward her personal fitness goal, and she didn’t want to backslide during her stay in Texas. If only it wasn’t so damned hot and humid. Between the heat and the food in her stomach, she was starting to feel a bit nauseous. Gasping for air, she slowed to a walk, wondering how far she’d come. A mile, maybe less.
Suddenly, a screech of tires tore through the evening air. The glare of headlights accelerated toward her, the car’s driver alternately slamming the brakes and ramming the gas pedal as he zigzagged along the narrow country road. Without a second to spare, Alicia dived off the road and into the grass. Uproarious laughter and heavy-metal music blasted the night as a carload of teenagers whizzed by.
For a few seconds, she didn’t move, her teeth clenched against the sting of razor-sharp pain. Somehow she’d had the bad luck to land smack on a pile of refuse, most of which felt like shattered glass.
Slowly, unsteadily, she climbed to her feet. It was too dark to see the extent of her injuries, but she could feel the blood trickling from her many cuts.
“Damn,” she muttered. “Damn, damn, damn.”
Dazed, she started back up the road toward home. Home. How she wished Luke’s place really was her home. She didn’t want to go back to her condo. She hated it there, hated the memories associated with it.
A slow, steady dribble of blood oozed down her legs. Her nausea increased and her pace slowed. Her breath came in quick, shallow huffs, her lower lip trembling so badly she had to catch it between her teeth.
A lifetime later, she reached Luke’s driveway. Feeling light-headed, she limped toward the front door, wishing he would come bursting out to take care of her. Indulging in this fantasy, she imagined the worried look on his face, the strength of his sinewy arms as he swept her tenderly off her feet.
But the door didn’t open. She hadn’t even been missed.
Self-pity swelled inside her as she turned the knob and hobbled in. No one hurried to greet her. Not even Daffy.
She lifted a hand and wiped away one foolish tear. She didn’t need them anyway, she thought with a touch of belligerence. She could take care of herself. Shatterproof, that’s what she was.
Without even glancing at her wounds, she started up the stairs. She moved quietly because she could hear Luke’s voice drifting out of Ronnie’s bedroom and she wanted to reach the bathroom without being seen. Yet, as she neared the top, she came to a dead halt and listened.
Luke was reading to Ronnie. Haltingly. Stumblingly.
As though he barely knew how.
Disbelief spiraled through her as she leaned dizzily against the wall. She couldn’t take it in, couldn’t understand. He mispronounced words
, simple words that anyone should have known. He floundered and stopped, then backtracked and started over. His reading was slow, laborious, painstaking.
It couldn’t be true. It had to be true.
The man couldn’t read.
Forgetting her physical pain, she closed her eyes, love and self-recrimination merging in her chest. How could she not have known? How could he have hidden something like his illiteracy from her? Somehow, all those years ago, she had failed him. She must have. Otherwise, why hadn’t he entrusted her with his secret?
In the next instant, she nearly lost her balance, and that told her she was in trouble. Clutching the banister, she opened her eyes and looked down at her injuries. To her horror, she saw a deep, horizontal slash across the back of her left arm. She’d been losing a heck of a lot more blood than she’d realized.
A shudder ran through her. She’d better get into that bathroom before she bled to death.
* * *
Luke went rigid as the bathroom door snapped shut. Oh, God, she’d heard him. Alicia had heard him. He’d been found out.
Shock and humiliation and shame crashed down on him in huge, suffocating waves. His numbed gaze flicked to his watch. Lord, she’d only been gone thirty minutes. He’d banked on her staying away for at least three-quarters of an hour.
Ronnie jostled his arm. “Come on, Uncle Luke. Read.”
Luke blinked, trying to focus on the words, but adrenaline was kicking its way through his veins. “I...I think we’d better stop now. It’s getting late.”
“But it’s almost the end,” the child pleaded. “Pleeease.”
Sweat broke out on Luke’s brow. He couldn’t think, couldn’t find his place on the page. His mouth was dry. “I can’t, Ron. Not now.”
“Why?” Ronnie’s guileless blue eyes met his.
“Because I’m tired.” Hating himself, he shut the book. “Now give me a hug and let’s get you tucked in.”
The little arms that wrapped around him were nearly his undoing. “I love you, Uncle Luke.”
Luke closed his eyes, emotion tightening his chest. “I love you, too, Ron.” That was the understatement of the century.