* * *
Sherri awoke as the motor home pulled to a halt. "Where are we?" she asked, sitting up and looking out the window for orientation.
"At the Happy Camper's Park just outside of Akron." Luke shut off the engine and opened his door. "Just sit tight and I'll get us a parking space for the night."
"I'll come with you, okay, big man?" Danny asked, scrambling after him.
"Okay, little man," Luke replied.
"Danny, your coat!" Sherri called, holding the winter jacket out to him. She didn't care if Luke caught a cold, but she didn't want Danny getting ill. He shrugged on the jacket and together he and Luke left the R.V.
Sherri watched as the two of them approached the office. Her heart constricted as Luke threw an arm around Danny's shoulders. They walked so much alike, with a sort of jaunty, rambling roll of natural arrogance. In Luke it was incredibly sexy, in Danny it was just plain cute.
As they disappeared into the office, she got up out of her seat and began putting together the items for their dinner. One thing she couldn't take away from Luke: he was a terrific father. Even when he'd been traveling and was out of the country, a week didn't pass that Danny didn't receive several letters from wherever Luke was working.
It had surprised her over the years, the commitment that Luke had made to his son. She'd always believed the only thing Luke could be committed to was his work and his need for excitement. That had certainly always come before his commitment to her. She shoved the bitterness aside, knowing it would ruin the taste of the steaks.
Besides, it was the past, and there was no way to change it, no way to go back and reclaim it. She didn't need Luke anymore. The only thing she needed was to make sure this was the best three weeks of Danny's life.
"We're all set," Luke said as he climbed into the driver's seat. "We'll have electrical and water hookups." He restarted the motor home.
"And the man says we can have a camp fire so we can cook our steaks outside," Danny said with excitement. "We can toast marshmallows, then tell ghost stories and stuff."
"Sounds like a winner to me," Sherri replied.
It took them nearly an hour to hook up and get a fire burning. By the time they cooked the steaks and ate, darkness had fallen and the air held a sharper nip of winter. The fire provided a welcoming light and warmth against the night. Again, Sherri was thankful that the weather was cooperating by remaining unusually mild for December. Now, if it would just hold.
She settled back against the fallen tree limb that provided her a seat in front of the fire. A quiet contentment swept through her as she listened to Luke and Danny talk about sports.
The dinner conversation had been pleasant. They had talked about the weather, their travel plans for the next day, the campsite…they'd managed to find things to talk about that were nonthreatening and safe. Now if they could just continue in the same vein for the next three weeks….
She gazed across the fire, watching her son's face as he animatedly dissected the last New York Yankees ball game with Luke. She smiled, seeing her son's hands flail in the air as he described a particular pop fly. Definitely a chip off the old block.
In the glow of the fire, Danny's face looked like a youthful miniature of his father's. But according to the doctors, his face would never reach the maturity of Luke's. Sherri shoved this thought aside, unable to deal with the grief, the breath-stealing pain that tore through her at thoughts of losing Danny.
Doctors have been known to be wrong, she reminded herself firmly. And miracles did still happen in this world. All she had to do was keep praying for their own special miracle.
Her heart expanded as she heard Danny's lilting laughter, saw Luke's responding grin. She focused on their conversation, realizing that their talk had turned from sports to ghost stories.
As Luke related to Danny a story he'd heard while in Ireland, Sherri got up and went into the camper. Opening one of the cabinets, she drew out her camera. She wanted to chronicle this trip, these memories. She'd been surprised that Luke hadn't brought his camera equipment. During their marriage, he'd even carried it with him on short trips to the grocery store, afraid he might miss the opportunity of getting an award-winning photo.
She loaded the film and checked the batteries to make sure the flash would work, then went outside and sat across from the two males.
Luke was at the climax of his story, his voice low and creepy. Danny's eyes were wide, his mouth opened in an ohh of anticipation. Sherri snapped a picture, laughing as the flash made Danny jump and yell in surprise.
"Mom, you scared me," he exclaimed. He clasped a hand to his heart and grinned. "Hey, let me take one of you and Dad," he urged suddenly.
"Oh, no," Sherri protested, looking to Luke for support.
"Come on, Mom, just one," Danny pressed, his big blue eyes pleading his cause.
It's just a picture, Sherri told herself as she reluctantly gave Danny the camera. But there was something intimate about a photograph, an image that lasted despite time and change. Luke had always told her that he thought pictures were the most telling medium of all, that relationships, character and emotion could all be read by studying a photo.
As she moved to sit next to Luke, she wondered what perceptions people would draw years from now about the picture of the man and woman sitting by the camp fire. Would they know the two were divorced, or would they guess that they were lovers enjoying a camp-out?
She eased down next to Luke, immediately able to smell his scent, a heady combination of spicy cologne and wood smoke and the smell of worn leather from his bomber jacket. She held herself stiff, not touching him, but aware of his body heat warming her as effectively as the flames of the fire.
"Relax," Luke murmured to her as Danny worked the focus. "Give the kid what he wants." He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close against his side.
"That's great," Danny exclaimed in delight.
In the moment it took for him to snap the picture, myriad emotions flooded through Sherri. She had spent the last five years trying to forget everything about Luke, yet in the single instant in his arms, her body remembered the sweet familiarity of his touch.
The second the flash went off, with white dots still dancing in front of her eyes, she jerked away from Luke's touch and stood up. "That's enough pictures for one night," she said as she took the camera back from Danny. "I think I'll go in and take a quick shower."
Luke grinned, his gray-blue eyes lingering on her for a moment. "While you shower, Danny and I will put out the fire."
With a curt nod, Sherri hurried into the motor home. The shower was a confounded contraption. The nozzle produced a pathetic spray of water that was virtually ineffective against banishing the lingering feel of Luke's body pressed against her side.
It had shocked her, the momentary stab of desire that had suddenly reared its head when he'd pressed her against his side. It was an emotion she hadn't felt for a very long time, had thought never to feel again.
"Ridiculous," she scoffed aloud, scrubbing her skin to a rosy hue with the washcloth and fresh-scented bar of soap. It had been shock she'd felt, not desire. It had been surprise and distaste. After all, how could she possibly feel desire for a man she disliked? How could she feel desire for a man who'd taken her love and left her bitter and empty? It had been a long time since she'd felt a man's arms surrounding her, her body had simply reacted to the novelty of the embrace, nothing more.
By the time she'd finished showering and changed into a long, demure sleep shirt, Danny and Luke were back inside. They sat at the table, sharing a bedtime snack of peanut-butter crackers and milk.
"Danny, when you're finished there, take your shower and don't forget to brush your teeth," Sherri reminded him.
"Ah, Mom, we're on vacation," Danny protested.
"Hey, sport, dirt and cavities don't take vacations," Luke said firmly. He stood up and put away the crackers and milk. "Besides, I don't want a stinky, tooth-decayed bunk mate."
>
"Okay." Danny laughed and headed for the shower.
When he was gone, Sherri busied herself wiping the table and counters, conscious of Luke's gaze following her movements. "You're staring," she finally said as she sat down across from him.
"Yes, I am," he agreed with a lazy smile. "I was just observing the fact that you look good. I like what you've done to your hair."
She ran a hand through it self-consciously. "Thanks."
"Since our divorce, you've only managed to get more attractive."
She flushed. "What did you expect? That without you in my life, I'd somehow fall apart?"
"It would have done my ego wonders if you had." The lazy grin widened.
"Gosh, Luke, I'm really sorry that I couldn't accommodate your massive ego, but I've not only survived since our divorce, I've actually thrived." She tilted her chin upward, returning his gaze with an edge of defiance. She studiously shoved aside the memory of how frightened she had once been that she wouldn't survive, that she would fall apart without him.
He stretched out his long jean-clad legs and grinned at her. "I've managed to do pretty well myself since our divorce," he said. "I'm considered quite a catch in the circles I travel."
Sherri smiled thinly. "I'm sure you have to beat the women off with sticks since you're such a sexy hunk."
"You really think so?" His dark eyebrows danced upward.
"Hmm, I'm sure you have to carry two baseball bats with you to fend off the attention of love-starved females," she replied sarcastically.
"No, I meant do you really think I'm a sexy hunk?" He leaned up over the table, so close she could feel his warm breath on her face, see something unfathomable in his eyes. He reached out and traced the swell of her bottom lip with a fingertip. "You know, Danny wanted to sleep in the top bunk all by himself. You and I could share the bottom one…share a little passion for old times' sake. What do you think?"
Sherri reeled back in the chair but before she could scald him with a flurry of scathing words, Danny stepped out of the bathroom. "All done," he exclaimed.
"Terrific, I'll tuck you in." Sherri escaped Luke's proximity, following her son back into the sleeping area. "Make sure you leave plenty of room for your father," she said loudly enough for Luke to hear.
"I think I'll take a quick shower," Luke said, his voice still filled with the lazy amusement that only fueled Sherri's irritation with him.
"Danny and I will just go on to bed," she replied coolly.
As he disappeared into the bathroom, Sherri gave her son a kiss, then crawled beneath the sheets on the lower bunk.
The nerve of the man, she fumed inwardly. She punched her pillow and flopped over on her side. He'd been playing with her, using his overt sensuality to get to her. How many of their fights had ended with him cajoling her into bed, sweet-talking her out of her anger and into his arms? Share a little passion for old times' sake…oh, the nerve of him!
Luke and his lazy, sexy charm. It had always been coupled with a touch of arrogance that had merely increased its potency. His arrogance didn't cross the line into conceit. If it did, it wouldn't be so damned appealing. She punched her pillow once again.
"The beds are kinda hard, aren't they?" Danny said from above her.
"A little," she replied, but she knew it wasn't the physical discomfort of the bed that bothered her. It was the fact that she still found Luke sexy. After all these years, she still found his naughty charm stimulating. Damn his handsome hide!
She jumped as above the sounds of the water running in the shower, she heard him begin to sing. Luke had always sang in the shower…always sang loudly and badly.
Some things never change, she thought as she heard him lustily singing the words to a familiar Garth Brooks tune. Without the words, the song would have been totally unrecognizable.
Danny's giggles filled the air. His laughter grew stronger as Luke's singing became louder. The sound of her son's laughter fed a sudden spurt of her own.
"He really is bad, isn't he, Mom?" Danny said amid fits of giggling.
"He is," Sherri agreed. "And the frightening part is he honestly doesn't know how bad he is." Again, Danny and Sherri burst into laughter.
They were still giggling when Luke finally stepped out of the bathroom. "What's so funny?" he asked.
Sherri's laughter died instantly on her lips as she stared at him. He stood backlit by the light from the bathroom. He was clad only in a pair of boxer shorts, exposing his firm muscular chest, flat abdomen and long masculine legs. "Nothing," she murmured. She quickly turned over on her other side, facing the wall, closing her eyes against the vision that was momentarily burned into her brain. They were silk boxers, bright red and incredibly sexy. Drat the man, anyway, she fumed.
She was vaguely aware of him turning out all the lights and pulling himself up into the bunk above her. She sensed the mattress depressing beneath his weight, smelled the clean soapy scent that emanated from him. She squeezed her eyes more tightly closed. Margaret had been right. This whole idea was a study in insanity.
"Sweet dreams, Sherri," Luke murmured, his voice softly mocking as if he knew the view of his scantily clad body had disturbed her.
She grunted in response and punched her pillow a final time. She'd forgotten how potent Luke's sexuality was, how overtly male he was. She hadn't considered her own vulnerability, the fact that she had been without male companionship for too long, that her body remembered Luke's caresses, his lovemaking far too keenly for sanity's sake.
I just have to concentrate on all the things I don't like about him, she thought. Aside from the failure of their marriage, she had to hang on to the little things that drove her crazy. He ate ketchup on his steak. He was tone-deaf and loved to sing. He popped his knuckles to see her squirm.
As she slowly drifted off to sleep, she remembered something else she hated about him. He snored.
Chapter Three
Luke awoke first. The dawn light illuminated the interior of the motor home with a golden glow, and outside a bird chirped softly, as if welcoming the coming morning light.
He knew he should get up, get the utilities unhooked so they would be ready to roll when Sherri and Danny awakened. But he didn't move. Instead, he remained still, drinking in the sensations that surrounded him.
Although the bed was little more than a thin foam pad covering plywood, and the ceiling was suffocatingly close to his nose, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so comfortable, so content.
Danny's warmth pressed sweetly against him and he could hear Sherri's soft breaths as she slept soundly below. He'd forgotten what it was like to wake up and listen to the sounds of somebody else's sleep. The women he'd dated, the ones he'd made love to since his divorce, had never been allowed to spend the night. That was an intimacy he shared with nobody.
He rolled over on his side and peeked into the bunk below, staring at the woman who'd once been his wife. A smile curved his lips as he saw her mouth hanging slightly open. It was a pretty mouth, eminently feminine and dainty. Her lashes were long and dark enough so she rarely wore mascara. Her hair was a dark spill of brown and gold against the pristine white of the pillowcase. She was curled up on her side, her hands clasped beneath her cheek. She looked soft and touchable.
His smile widened into a full-fledged grin as he rolled over onto his back, imagining how quickly soft and touchable would become prickly and hateful if he were to crawl into bed with her. And yet there was a certain appeal in the thought of making love to her again. Sex had always been terrific with Sherri. She was a giving lover, eager to please as well as be pleased. Had they managed to stay in bed twenty-four hours a day, then perhaps they'd never have divorced.
One more time for old times' sake…he didn't know why he had said that to her the night before. He'd known before the words had left his mouth that they would make her mad. Yet, she'd always managed to evoke in him a strange perverse need to shake her up, and sex had always been the way to do it.
&nb
sp; When he'd seen her in that sleep shirt the night before, it had brought back memories…disturbing ones that instantly threatened. She'd always worn cotton nightshirts to bed. He could still remember the lemony sunshine scent of them, the way the cotton would warm with her body heat. He could remember the texture of the material stretched taut across her nipples as he caressed her breasts.
Yes, somehow he'd found her threatening, and he'd responded to the threat by saying things he knew would make her angry. The last thing they needed from each other was a casual, physical fling.
He released a small sigh and flung an arm over his eyes, thinking over their brief conversation from the night before. In truth, when they'd divorced, he had been surprised that she hadn't fallen apart. There had been a small part of him that had expected it, anticipated it.
He'd been surprised at the strength and determination she'd shown in wanting to make it entirely on her own. She had wanted no alimony and only a small amount of child support. She'd insisted they sell the house and split the equity. The only thing she'd requested was that he help her obtain loans so she could go to college and get a teaching degree. Too bad that it had taken the divorce for her to show him the strength he'd desperately longed to see in her during their marriage.
Oh well, water under the bridge now. Shoving aside the past, Luke eased himself off the top bunk and to the floor, landing silently, with the grace of a large cat. Casting one last look at his sleeping son and ex-wife, he yanked on a pair of jeans and his bomber jacket, then went outside to get the motor home ready to travel once again.
Sherri was up and had coffee made when he came back in. "Good morning," he said cheerfully, shrugging out of his jacket.
"'Mornin'," she muttered, scratching the tip of her nose with two fingers. "Where's your shirt?" she asked, frowning as she stared at his bare chest.
Uh-oh, Luke thought, remembering the warning signs. She apparently hadn't slept as well as he had. "Hmm, that coffee smells terrific." He was determined to remain cheerful. "You want me to pour you a cup?" he offered.
Anything for Danny Page 3