by Nona Raines
Right. Wouldn’t that be a hell of way to scare her off.
But God, how he’d wanted to kiss her. Her lips were as full and rosy as they’d always been. He wanted to run his fingers through her glossy dark hair. Her velvety brown eyes were as soft as the petals of a pansy. Once those eyes had gleamed with mischief and vivacity, but now they were wary and shadowed with hurt.
Eric’s fists clenched. What he’d give to grab Denny Donovan by the throat and drop kick him for putting those shadows there.
He wanted to erase the hurt and do so much more. If she’d let him. He’d almost told her that on the doorstep, but some instinct made him wait.
He stopped short when a squirrel scrambled in front of him. It climbed a nearby birch tree and from there leapt to a telephone pole. Maybe it was the same one who’d teased Bobo.
He lengthened his stride, trying to walk off his frustration, to ease the knot in his gut. Shit. Now that I can finally tell her how I feel, she’s not ready to hear me.
He’d had a terrible stutter growing up. It plagued him through elementary and middle school, and was no better in high school. He’d been teased by some and pitied by others, which pissed him off.
He hadn’t been a total outcast, though. He’d had loyal friends and got high marks in school. Teachers learned not to call on him in class, but his writing skills were sharp and he excelled in math and science, essential for his profession as an engineer. In high school, he learned the bullies backed down when he fought back. Though it cost him a few afternoons in detention, it gained him respect.
Still, the stutter had tormented him and circumscribed his social life. Meeting new people had always been a bitch, not because he was shy, but because there was no way of knowing how they’d accept him and his stutter. When he went out to eat, he dreaded ordering from a menu. He ordered what he could say, whether he wanted it or not. And dating was a disaster.
Except for prom night twelve years ago.
They stood on her parents’ doorstep. Though it was late, Eric felt as jazzed as if he’d drunk a dozen cups of coffee, black. Because of Annalee. He needed to tell her what an awesome time he’d had. How much he cared about her. But his stupid tongue let him down again. He blocked. His chin and jaw tightened up, his lips contorted as he tried to get the words out.
“Th—th—th—” His face heated with frustration and despair. She’d hate him. Think he was stupid. He’d never have a chance with her.
She took his hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I had a great time.”
Then, as if on impulse, she brushed her mouth against his. Maybe she’d only intended a brief, friendly embrace, but as soon as their lips touched, he ignited. He slid his arms around her and pulled her to him, firmly but carefully. She was smaller than he, so delicate. He didn’t want to hurt her. When her breasts flattened against his chest, the spark flared to a bonfire. Before he knew it, Annalee had slipped her arms around his neck. His lips parted, searching for her tongue.
Suddenly, the kiss ended, and Eric wasn’t sure which one of them broke it. His lips tingled and bubbles fizzed in his head. Annalee looked dizzy, too. He stepped back, then fell sideways off the stoop, his arms flapping crazily.
“Umph!” He landed in the honeysuckle bush. After a moment’s confusion, he sprang up and brushed a leaf from his hair.
Annalee’s eyes and mouth were round with horror. “Are you okay?”
He was awesome. He was fantastic. That kiss… Now he knew what people meant by “walking on air.” His mouth stretched into a goofy smile, and he gave her two thumbs-up to show he was all right. He stumbled once more before he made it to the car.
Before he drove away, he saw her still on the doorstep, her hand lifted in farewell.
He knew, in that instant, he was in love with her.
****
Inside the house, Annalee kicked off her muddy shoes, then hurried to the bedroom to change out of her wet gear. She emerged dry but still chilly. Maybe it was nerves. She’d nearly made a fool of herself with Eric. What had she been thinking?
Coffee was just the thing to warm her up. Bobo followed her to the kitchen, whining softly, wondering what she’d done with his new friend.
As she poured water into the coffeemaker, the phone rang. “Hello?
It was Dee McIntyre, Eric’s sister. “Do you want Thom and me to pick you up tonight?”
Annalee sighed, dreading that evening’s high school reunion. Their fifteenth year. “No, thanks. I’m going to drive myself.” Then she wouldn’t have to stay long, wouldn’t be trapped if she wanted to bail in a hurry.
“You mean so you can pop in, say a few hellos, and duck out early?” Dee knew her too well.
Annalee pulled a chair out from the table and sat. Bobo trotted over and nudged her free hand with his nose. She scratched the monster behind his ears. “The only reason I’m going at all is to show everyone I haven’t fallen apart since the divorce.”
“Aw, you want to deprive the gossips of all their fun. You’re at least going to sit with us, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“That’s good. ’Cause otherwise I won’t have anyone to talk to besides my husband, and it’s not like I’ll be able to drink.” Dee was pregnant with her first child. “I can’t have any fun now that I’m knocked up. Yesterday, Thom found my secret stash of chips and confiscated them. No fair.”
“He’s worried about you getting too much salt. It’s not good.”
“Hey, whatever happened to indulging a pregnant woman’s cravings, huh?” She sighed. “So about tonight. Have you heard if Dickweed’s showing up?”
Dickweed was Dee’s nickname for Annalee’s ex-husband, also a member of their class.
She squeezed the phone’s handset. “Oh, he’ll be there, I’m sure. Denny’s the original hail fellow well met. He’s not going to miss a chance to connect with all his high school buddies and lord it over them. Besides, where better to show off his sparkly new wife?”
Dee made an unintelligible sound. “His…what?”
“Yes, Denny has remarried. I take it you haven’t heard?”
“No. And you’re just telling me this now?”
“I only found out yesterday. Sandra Widdicombe ambushed me in the Smart Savings’ parking lot.”
Bobo was bored with the conversation. He padded over to the refrigerator and stole the dish towel hanging from the door handle. Annalee snatched it from him before he could make a getaway. “Give me that, you.”
“What?”
“Sorry, I was talking to the dog.” She set the slobbery towel on the table. “Anyway, I was putting groceries in my trunk when Sandra rushed over, full of sympathy.”
“I’ll bet.”
Annalee could still picture Sandra’s oh-so-sympathetic expression and the syrupy concern in her voice, neither of which masked her avid curiosity.
“Oh, Annalee dear, I just heard about Denny’s marrying that little waitress. From some café, wasn’t it, or diner? Marlie something?”
Annalee remembered standing by her car, plastic bags hanging from her numb fingers, her mouth gaping in surprise. Her mind an utter blank. If it had been a movie, she’d have snapped back with a clever, withering remark that would have left Sandra crawling away in humiliation.
Instead, she simply blinked and muttered, “What?”
Not her finest moment by any measure. Sandra was in her glory, though, regaling Annalee with all the gory details. Making sure to include the requisite clucking and murmurs of sympathy. “We all think it’s disgraceful, what Denny’s done. But you’ve been wonderful, Annalee. Such a lady, rising above it the way you have. So brave. You just keep your chin up, dear.”
“That bitch.” Dee snorted. “I’m sure she was hoping you’d burst into tears right then and there.”
“I’m sure.” Annalee twisted the phone cord around her finger. “Afraid I didn’t give her the satisfaction.”
“You big meanie.”
“I kno
w.” She laughed, but even to her own ears, it sounded forced.
“So…” From Dee’s hesitant tone, she wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Are you okay with it?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Denny’s a free agent. He and I don’t even talk anymore.” Any love for him died long ago, extinguished by years of deception and disrespect. “I’ve moved on and obviously he has, too.” Round and round went the cord. She didn’t give a tinker’s damn, as the saying went, what her ex did. She had her house, her job, and her independence. What else did she need?
Annalee blinked. Her finger was purple. She quickly uncoiled the cord and changed the subject. “You should see the killer dress I bought for tonight.”
“Can’t wait. By the way, did I tell you my brother’s in town?” Dee changed the subject so quickly Annalee almost got whiplash.
“No, you didn’t, but we ran into each other earlier. When I was walking Bobo.” She didn’t mention that, thanks to Bobo, she nearly ran into a tree as well.
“Oh, really?” Eric’s sister drew out the last word—realllyyy.
Annalee rolled her eyes. “Yes, and what’s that little tone of yours supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing,” Dee replied airily. “I knew he went out this morning. I merely find it interesting that of all the people he might encounter, he bumps into you. Very interesting.”
“Do you really, Inspector Clouseau?”
“Yes, indeed. Given the fact he’s had a major crush on you all these years—”
Annalee pulled at the collar of the sweater that now felt too tight around her throat. “A crush?”
“A crush, the hots, whatever. Now you’re free, and he’s free—”
“Wait a minute.” She gripped the handset to keep it from sliding from her slippery palm. “I thought he was seeing that girl, the brunette—”
“Katie? No, they’re no longer an item. The stars have finally aligned for you. It’s…what’s the word…”
Annalee was speechless, her thoughts a flurry.
“Oh yeah, serendipity.”
This call had to end. “Goodbye, Delayna. I’ll see you tonight.” Annalee hung up before her friend could say more.
Okay, what just happened? Dee was encouraging her to get with Eric?
A new image flashed before her—she and Eric, naked. Smoothing her hands down his bare chest, then trailing lower…
She shook her head. Sexual deprivation was getting to her. How long had it been? Half a year since the divorce and even longer if she counted the last year of her marriage, which had been a war zone. A cold war of silence and contempt, which couldn’t even generate enough heat for hate sex.
Not a moment too soon, the coffee maker gurgled. Annalee filled a cup, but no longer needed a hot drink to eliminate the chill.
She was on fire.
Chapter Two
That evening Annalee posed in front of her hall mirror.
She’d spent a hefty chunk of salary on the black satin cocktail dress and silver peep toe heels. In her earlobes winked a pair of diamond studs she’d purchased herself. Hah. She didn’t need a man to buy her jewelry.
But now she frowned at her reflection. Was she trying too hard? She was going for sleek and sophisticated. Did she scream divorced and desperate?
Where was her evening bag? She’d chewed off most of her lipstick. She also needed to pop another antacid to soothe the knot of anxiety in her stomach.
After tossing around a few sofa cushions, she spotted the bag on the seat of the armchair and almost fell on her face reaching for it. Damn heels. Well, with any luck, she’d break her neck and have the perfect excuse for not showing up at this stupid event.
Part of her wanted to back out altogether. Call up Dee and say she was sick with a headache. A stomach bug. The bubonic plague.
There’d be gossip if she didn’t show. She could hear it even now. “Well, I don’t blame her for not being here. The poor thing couldn’t show her face after the way Denny dumped her for that new girl. How humiliating.”
And she could picture the smug look on Denny’s face, thinking of her huddling at home, heartbroken and miserable, because of him, of course. His big, fat ego would just love that.
No. No way would she give him that satisfaction. The gossips could stare, whisper, and speculate to their hearts’ content. She’d strut in there with her new dress and her sparkly earrings and flash her ex a great big smile.
Yeah, eat your heart out, Denny. Not too shabby, huh? Howja like me now?
She had every right to hold her head high. After all, didn’t they say, whoever they were, that living well was the best revenge?
If it were up to her, the saying would be amended. Living well and punching your enemy in the nose is the best revenge. Or kicking him in the groin.
No, no. That wouldn’t do. After all, she was a teacher, a role model. Students, parents, even the Board of Education were watching her.
She needed to count her blessings. She had family and loyal friends like Thom and Delayna, her home, her profession.
And who could tell? She might get lucky tonight. A former classmate might show up, someone still single or fresh off a divorce looking for a brief hook up. It could happen.
Yeah, right. She was a jumble of nerves. The thought of hooking up with anyone had all the appeal of jumping from an airplane without a parachute.
She took a deep steadying breath. Hang on. You only have to get through tonight.
The doorbell rang.
She hurried down the hall. Maybe it was one of the neighbors’ children selling cookies or chocolates. Then she could eat a box or three and delay the inevitable a bit longer.
When she opened the door, her mouth fell open. Eric stood on her doorstep, looking like he’d stepped out of a glossy advertisement for high-end men’s cologne. He wore a dark gray suit, which fit him beautifully. A small white rosebud decorated his lapel. His sparkling white shirt was set off by a light blue tie. There was a small box in his right hand.
His eyes widened at her appearance. “Wow.” He paused a moment as his gaze swept over her. “Can I come in?”
“Uh…of course.” She was too surprised to be more welcoming. As she stepped back, she wobbled in her high heels. Eric caught her round the waist before she toppled. The heat of his hand left an impression on her skin through the fabric of her dress.
“Oops. You okay?” he asked.
She grabbed his arms to steady herself. “Fine. Thanks.” He was so solid and warm, she didn’t want to let go.
He glanced around as if surprised by the quiet. “Where’s Sasquatch?”
“Bobo? I closed him in the spare room while I was changing. He likes to steal clothing and make me chase him.” She moistened her dry lips with her tongue.
Gently, he released her and lifted the lid of the box in his hand to reveal a perfect white rose.
“Do you remember this?” His voice was low and intimate.
The hairs on her neck prickled. “Of course.” She looked at him. “Your senior prom. I was wearing a white rose.”
“That’s right. And you brought me a matching boutonniere.” He nodded at the rosebud in his buttonhole. “You had on a blue dress.”
Her breath caught. “Yes,” she said, suddenly recalling. “The gown was blue.” He remembered that? After all these years?
“Hell, I’ll never forget it,” he growled. “You were hot. But not as hot as you are tonight.” His gaze licked over her as it traveled up and down her body. “You look incredible.” The appreciation in his face and voice sent a warm glow through her. When was the last time anyone thought her hot?
He set the box on the hall table and removed the corsage. “Will you wear this and allow me the honor of being your date tonight?”
“Oh, Eric.” A weight lifted from her spirit. With him beside her, she wouldn’t have to face everyone alone. Dee and Thom were great friends with good hearts, but with them, she was always the third wheel.
Of course, the
re would still be gossip tonight. Only now, the gossips would be envious, wondering what Annalee Mondello, formerly Donovan, was doing with such a sexy man. Speculating what the two of them might be doing after the party.
An image flashed. She and Eric together. Naked, in bed. Her bed.
Her breath caught. Could she do that, let herself go there? Why not? He was free, and so was she. Dee had all but given the go-ahead. She’d been alone for so long. Lonely, even in her marriage. Wasn’t it time to grab a little happiness, a bit of fun?
As he waited for her response, she released her breath in a long exhale. “Yes. I’d love you to be my date.”
When he pinned the corsage to her bodice, the brush of his fingers on her skin made her moist. Her legs felt unsteady and her lips plumped as she remembered his kiss from years ago. Wanted more kisses.
Wanted him. He’d made the first move by coming here tonight. Maybe he wanted her, too?
A sudden thought came to her. “Does Dee know you’re here?”
“No.” His gaze hardened. “Do you mean did she put me up to this?”
His reaction made her backtrack. “No—”
“I don’t tell my sister my business.”
“You’re not here to rescue me? Because you feel sorry for the poor lonely divorcee?” God help her, that was the last thing she wanted.
“Why did you go with me to the prom that night?” He countered. “Out of pity?”
“No, it wasn’t pity.” She scowled as a spark of long-buried anger lit inside her. “It ticked me off when Dee told me that girl backed out at the last minute.”
“Cindy.”
“Whatever. Your date. The little witch had no business hurting you. You were a nice guy, and I liked you. So I stepped in. That’s all.”
“But it was Dee who suggested it.”
“No.” She wouldn’t let him believe that. “It was my idea.”