Flight to Love

by Curry, Edna

  As they drove, Trace suggested dinner.

  Lisa shook her head. “My hair’s still wet. I don’t want to be seen.” She glanced at him, wondering why she didn’t mind that Trace was seeing her in an unkempt manner. Trace was a comfortable friend, and it was all right to be herself around him. But the vibrations he was raising in her had nothing to do with friendship.

  “Then how about picking up something to take home? Burgers? Chinese?”

  “Chinese sounds good. I love their shrimp and pea pods.”

  When they reached her house Trace made tea and set out their food while Lisa went up to her bathroom to finish drying her hair.

  Her mind was on Trace. Even now, with him downstairs in the kitchen, she could feel the tremor of excitement at his presence in her house ripple along her veins.

  Why did he affect her this way? She tried to analyze the question. I don’t know, but he always could. Then it’s long past time for this foolishness to stop. But he’s already asking why I’m avoiding him, and I can’t very well admit he affects me this way. What am I going to do?

  “Hey, our food’s getting cold.”

  Lisa started, and glanced quickly into the mirror. Trace stood in the open doorway behind her, watching.

  “It’s about dry.” She snapped off the hairdryer and put it down on its metal stand on her vanity. Giving her hair a quick last flip, she laid the brush down, and turned, almost into his arms. She caught her breath in delight at his nearness.

  “You have beautiful hair.” He reached out a hand and picked up a strand from her shoulder. His fingers brushed her cheek. “It feels like silk,” he added softly.

  She laughed nervously, only too aware they were only a few feet from her bedroom across the hall. What would it be like to fulfill her old fantasy to take him there to make love?

  Forcing the thought away, she said quickly, “Didn’t you say our food was getting cold?”

  “Yeah, but who cares? I’m hot!” He bent his head and kissed her again.

  With a sigh she melted against him. He picked her up and carried her across the hall into her bedroom.

  Sliding her slowly down his body, he watched her face as the friction teased them.

  “Oh, God,” she said with a sigh. He began opening the buttons of the blouse she’d just put on and she couldn’t make any objection.

  His gaze held hers and then she closed her eyes in happy surrender. Their lips met again and he trailed kisses down her throat and his hands finished undressing her as he kicked off his shoes.

  “God, you’re so beautiful!” he whispered.

  She opened her eyes and began helping him get rid of his clothes as well. He was hard and firm behind his zipper as she slid it down and freed him, then knelt and kissed him.

  With a groan, he shoved off his pants and pulled her onto the bed with him, running his hands all over her bare skin, enjoying the smooth, soft feel of her. He’d dreamed of this so often lately, not to mention all those years ago. He could hardly believe they were really making love, it was really happening, at last.

  He turned them over so he was on top, then licked her breasts each in turn until she squirmed in pleasure. He nipped a pink tip lightly, then closed his lips over it and suckled it, bringing it to attention. She gasped and rose to allow him access to the other one. Then he trailed kisses down her belly until he found the nubbin in the nest of dark curls between her legs. He teased it until she shuddered. “Trace!”

  He raised his head and eyed her glazed expression. “What, Lisa? Want me to stop?”

  “God, no! Don’t stop!”

  With a grin, he reached for his pants, took a foil packet and covered himself, then knelt between her legs and entered her in a single, strong thrust.

  “Oh!” she said, and with a strong sigh, began meeting him thrust for thrust.

  Pleasure swept over him until it exploded in a burst of stars and he collapsed onto her then rolled to his side taking her with him so as not to lose that delicious connection.

  When their breathing finally returned to normal, he asked, “Are you still hungry?”

  She opened one eye and regarded him curiously. “How can you think of food at a time like this?”

  “Easy. My stomach always wants food, even though the food’s probably cold by now.”

  “Okay, let’s go eat.” She kissed him and got up to pick up their scattered clothes. After they dressed, he led the way back downstairs to the kitchen where their Chinese takeout waited on plates where he’d placed it earlier.

  She put on the kettle for a fresh pot of tea, then sat down to taste her food, but wrinkled her nose at the first taste of her shrimp. “You were right, it’s cold. Here, let me warm yours, too.” She picked up both their plates and carried them to her microwave.

  He watched her cover them with wax paper, place them in the microwave and press the “reheat” button. “I see you’ve modernized this kitchen, too.”

  Yikes, Lisa thought. He was back to disapproving her choices again. How could he jump from lover to critic in so short a time?

  She fought to remain calm. They might be hot in bed, but that didn’t mean she was letting him run her life. “Yes, I’m used to more modern things than Gram had, I’m afraid. I-I brought this from my house.”

  Honestly, Lisa thought. She’d almost told him she’d had to claim the microwave, before Jodi and Bob did. It had been the one thing all three had wanted. But she wasn’t ready to tell him about her problems with them. She breathed a sigh of relief when he changed the subject.

  “Tell me about this unfinished manuscript for your thesis.”

  Lisa seized on the safe subject. “I majored in English and Journalism, so my thesis is a historical novel. I really have only a first draft and lots of note cards from the research. There’s a lot of work left to be done, but luckily, history doesn’t change.”

  “What is the setting?”

  “Late nineteenth century Minnesota logging days. I liked the great White Pine forest stories, and the fact there was so much danger in their everyday activities that it was easy to find dramatic events to keep the story moving.” The microwave timer chimed, and she put their plates back on the table, then refilled their cups.

  “Do you have it on disk?”

  “Pardon?”

  “On disk. Have you typed it into a computer?”

  “Trace,” she said with a laugh, “I did this back in college. I was lucky to find a manual typewriter.”

  He laughed, too. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Most writers today use a computer. I think you’d find it saves a lot of rewriting time. You are familiar with using a computer, aren’t you? Didn’t you say you’d worked as an office manager?”

  She watched him put a forkful of shrimp between his lips. How could anyone make eating look so sexy? Her mind flew back to how those lips had felt on hers in the sauna, and warmth flooded through her again. She looked away and sipped her tea, trying to remember what he’d asked her. Oh, yes, had she used a computer in her office work?

  “Yes, of course,” Lisa agreed. “But I worked mainly with one page letters or spreadsheets full of figures.”

  “A good word processing program can be used for either letters or for longer documents. If you’re serious about finishing that novel, I’m sure you’d find a computer useful.”

  Lisa ate the last of her pea pods, and sipped her tea. Was she serious about doing this? She was beginning to see that it would involve a lot of time and work. “Yes,” she told him, making up her mind. “I’m serious about finishing it. It’s time I made some of my own dreams come true.”

  “Good.” Trace grinned and looked at his watch. “It’s still early. If you’d like, I can show you how my program works.”

  “All right.” Lisa picked up their plates and cups and put them in the sink. She remembered he had another morning class. “I’ll do these in the morning.”

  ***

  Two hours later they were still in his office. Now Lisa was
at the keyboard, and Trace sat beside her, directing as she tried out one feature of his program after another.

  He was a patient teacher and she was fascinated, as much with Trace as with the word processing program he was teaching her.

  Finally he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head.

  Turning to watch him, she said contritely, “Oh, I’m sorry! I forgot the time. You need some sleep before your early class.”

  “Well, yes, I do. You’re welcome to come back and use my computer while I’m at class during the day, Lisa.”

  She glanced around his very crowded office. Papers were in neat stacks. Many books, rows of notebooks, and boxes of CDs lined the shelves, and his wife and daughter smiled down at them from the picture on the wall. She felt a twinge of jealousy just looking at them; she couldn’t imagine working under their picture. Why was it okay when Trace was here with her? Perhaps because he was paying attention to her instead of them? She didn’t want to analyze it.

  She shook her head in answer to his offer. “Thanks, Trace. That’s very nice of you. But I couldn’t do that.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  She shook her head. “I need room to spread out my notes and sort everything out and so on. I’ve got my office all set up at my house. All I need to do is to go buy a computer of my own.”

  Trace looked surprised. “They cost quite a bit.”

  “I can afford one.” She looked away. She’d never explained her financial situation to him. To be fair, she didn’t know his, either, but assumed from various hints that money was tight for him.

  When he didn’t reply, she glanced back at him. He was frowning and his lips had tightened. He didn’t like her answer. Well, it was none of his business. Why was she getting involved with him, anyway? She needed to be free to do what she wanted. She was not going to be swayed by his hang-ups. “I’d better go,” she said.

  “I’ll walk you home.” He shut down the computer and walked down the hall with her.

  At his front door he held her jacket for her, and asked, “Didn’t you say you had an appointment with a counselor at the college tomorrow?”

  She slipped her arms into the jacket and nodded. “Yes. With Mrs. Jacobson, at two. I have to see what credits I need, besides my thesis, and to check on any changes in requirements.”

  He nodded. “You’ll also need to make contact with the English Department again if you want to finish your thesis.”

  “Yes. I have to look up my committee people. Probably after all these years, I’ll be assigned new ones.”

  A light breeze brushed them as they stepped out into the warm starlit night. “Umm, smell the lilacs?” She breathed in the delicate fragrance that floated to them from the bushes along his back yard. We’re going to wear a path between our houses. They crossed their lawns. There was something wonderfully homey and comforting about that thought. She wondered if he felt the same, but dared not ask him.

  “Yes, the lilacs have a heady scent, don’t they?” He put his arm around her waist, warning, “Watch out for this Bleeding Heart bush. It’s just growing nicely again, after someone’s dog dug it up last week.”

  Lisa looked down at the dark shadow beside the path, trying to ignore the rush of desire the warmth of his arm was causing in her midsection. “I see it.”

  “Want to go computer shopping after you see Mrs. Jacobson? My last class ends at three.”

  She stared at him, confused. Why was he offering to help her shop, when a moment ago he’d looked angry at the idea that she could afford to buy a computer? There was no figuring this man out. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’d like to. Unless you’d rather I didn’t?”

  “Of course not. I’d love to have your advice.”

  “Then I’ll pick you up shortly after three. Wait for me in the lounge outside Mrs. Jacobson’s office.”

  She unlocked her door and turned to him, pleased at the prospect of spending hours with him again tomorrow. “All right. Thanks for your help tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took her in his arms and leaned down to give her a kiss. It started out to be just a goodnight kiss, but quickly turned into an encounter that became hot, demanding.

  Desire danced like flaming liquid along her veins, making her forget her reservations about this man. Her arms moved of their own will around his neck, drawing him closer. She wanted him with an urgency she hadn’t felt in years. The spicy fragrance of his shaving lotion joined with the warm scent of his skin to a special, exciting blend. She was sure she would never forget it.

  Sliding his hand down her back, he drew her closer to him. The firm bulge between them made her aware of his desire for her. Knowing he wanted her, too, sent a shiver of pleasure through her as their tongues teased and tasted each other. Her heart was beating double time.

  He lifted his head at last and, laughing softly said, “I don’t want to, but I’d better leave while I can. See you tomorrow, then. Goodnight, Lisa.”

  He dropped his arms and strode quickly back to his own house.

  Lisa went inside. You didn’t want to get involved with anyone again. So why are you feeling disappointed?

  She took a steamy shower and lay awake thinking for a long time. He’d been hurt because she’d been avoiding him. He’d never understand her reasons for it, and she loved his company.

  So why not just enjoy seeing him and stop this game? They were both adults, and there was no reason not to be friends. She would see to it that it went no further than friends. They were too different for any other relationship to work.

  The next afternoon, Trace found Lisa sitting in the lounge as they’d agreed. She looked out of place among all the younger students. In her soft blue business suit and white blouse, she could easily, he thought, have been mistaken for one of the professional staff. In fact, she looked better than most of them.

  He studied her as he walked toward her, wondering again why she attracted him so much more than other women he knew. She was lovely, yes, but so were many other women he had dated. No, it was something more subtle than that. Was it her vulnerability, wariness, determination? He wasn’t sure.

  She was staring out of the window, watching students stroll past and didn’t see him.

  “There you are, Lisa. Ready to go?”

  Lisa started, her reverie interrupted by Trace’s voice. She immediately stood, smiling as she came forward to meet him.

  “How did your meeting go?” He took her arm and they walked out to his car.

  “Mrs. Jacobson was very helpful,” Lisa said, “but I got the impression that she couldn’t understand why I wanted to get my degree. She seemed to think I should have a specific job goal in mind.”

  “And you don’t?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Not really. I don’t think I have the patience for teaching, although I do like explaining things to others. But why can’t I just want the degree for its own sake? Is that so weird a goal?”

  “I don’t think it is. Be careful on these steps.” He tightened his grip on her arm as they went down the long flight of cement steps. “Where’d you leave your car?”

  “It’s way back there in the parking lot.”

  “Then we can leave it there until later tonight,” he said, steering her toward his blue Buick.

  “Where are we going shopping?” Lisa asked.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  Lisa shrugged. “I really don’t know this town. I’d just try the yellow pages. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “There’s a great computer shop out in the new mall,” Trace said as he headed the car east. “I got mine there, and Luke is a great person to work with. He’ll give you as good a deal as anywhere, and guarantees everything if you have any problems. He doesn’t mind you coming back to him with questions, either.”

  “I see.”

  “Shall we look there first?”

  “Sounds great to me. Lead on.”

&nbs
p; Luke’s shop was just a small one, hidden behind a row of large retail stores. The shop was empty when they entered. Along two walls, the upper shelves were lined with colorful packages of software, while the lower shelves held boxes of new computers and printers.

  Luke was typing away at a computer, facing the door, but didn’t look up when they opened the door. He seemed to be very engrossed in watching his computer screen.

  “Hi there, Luke,” Trace called as they entered.

  At the sound, a light flashed in front of Luke and he immediately looked up. A wide grin spread across his weathered face, causing the wrinkles to rearrange themselves.

  He greeted them with an outstretched hand. Trace introduced them, then said, “Lisa needs a computer for writing a novel, Luke. She likes my system, although maybe you can show her something less elaborate.”

  “Sure, Trace. I got a couple of new systems in this week.”

  “Maybe you have a good used one, Luke?” Trace put in. “A new one is hardly necessary for just writing.”

  Lisa stared at him. “A used computer?” She shook her head. “I don’t think I want that, Trace. At the last place I worked, the boss always bought used stuff. We wasted lots of time, trying to make-do.” Making do was not part of her new lifestyle. She’d pinched pennies long enough out of necessity. No, for once she was going to have something that worked, and she didn’t have to struggle with.

  “But...” Trace began.

  “No,” Lisa said, firmly ignoring Trace’s frown. She turned to Luke. “I want a new one.”

  Luke grinned and said, “Sure thing. The new ones are over here.” He looked at Lisa as he spoke, carefully watching her lips for her reply.

  “Good,” she said.

  “I can add whatever extras you need this afternoon. Tell me more about what you want to use it for.” He looked at Lisa, again watching her lips.

  Suddenly it all added up. Luke was either deaf or very hard of hearing. He was reading her lips. Lisa smiled at Luke, and said, “As Trace said, I want to use it to write a novel, so I will be using a word processor mostly for plain text. I also want to use the computer for online research and to track some investments. So I’d like fast internet access, a CD burner, a reliable backup system and investment software to track a stock portfolio, as well as the word processing program.”