"The worst part was the uncertainty of it all…never knowing what each day would bring." She released a tremulous sigh. "And when they died in the car accident just after our wedding, I think the saddest part of all was that I couldn't even summon up any grief…they'd lived such a miserable existence." She paused a moment, then added, "I just hope they finally found peace."
"Why didn't you tell me all this when we first started dating?" Luke asked softly.
Again Sherri sighed. "Oh, I don't know…I guess I was ashamed. I got used to hiding it from my friends and teachers. I got quite adept at hiding my parents from the people I cared about." She looked at him, remembering how much she had loved him, how much she had needed him. "I was afraid if you knew, you wouldn't want me, and at that time I thought I'd die if you didn't want me." Her words ended in an aching whisper.
"You should have told me," he admonished.
She shrugged, suddenly exhausted both emotionally and physically. "What difference would it have made?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she stood up. "I'm going to call it a night." She threw her foam coffee cup into the nearby trash container, then turned to go inside. She stopped as he softly called her name. She turned around and looked at him curiously.
He stood up and added his cup to the trash, then approached her. His eyes were soft with regret and an inexplicable emotion she couldn't quite discern. When he stood mere inches from her, he reached out and touched a strand of her hair. He ran its length through his fingertips, then released it and took her chin between his fingers. "It wouldn't have mattered to me, you know." His breath was soft and warm on her face. "I loved you so much it wouldn't have mattered to me if you'd told me your parents were lizards."
A bittersweet pang raced through her at his words, coupled with a shivery thrill of what had once been. For just a moment, a brief second, she felt it all over again…the agony and the ecstasy of loving Luke. She stared up at him, overwhelmed by the burst of emotion that swelled in her heart. Before she could guess his intent, his arms encircled her and pulled her close and his lips descended onto hers. For just a moment, she held herself stiff and unyielding against him. However, as the sweet familiarity of his body beckoned, and his mouth moved against hers with the stir of yesterday's passion, she gave in to the kiss, in to him.
He smelled of the Oklahoma dust, the freshness of the cold and a lingering remnant of his morning cologne, but she found the scent appealing in its masculinity.
Her body molded itself to the strength and hardness of his and she opened her mouth to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
As his tongue danced erotically with her own, she felt as if she were seventeen years old again and Luke was the man she loved more than life itself.
The intervening years seemed to disappear, vanish beneath the intensity of the desire he aroused in her. His hands moved slowly down her back as if rememorizing her form. He cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer into him, making her aware of his bold desire.
She was lost…lost in a maelstrom of emotions so intense she couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Right and wrong didn't matter…regrets and memories didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was being in his arms with his mouth creating magic.
As his lips released hers and kissed along the soft area of her jawline, she released a low moan of pleasure. He abruptly broke the embrace and stepped away from her, his eyes glittering darkly in the moonlight spilling down.
His breathing matched her own, rapid and shallow. "Good night, Sherri," he said, his voice fuller, deeper than usual.
She frowned, her head still reeling. "Luke?" she whispered his name, wanting to be back in his arms, needing him holding her, kissing her.
"Go to bed, Sherri," he demanded. She hesitated, confused by the emotions that still raced through her. "Go on," he urged. "Go before we make a mistake we'll regret in the light of dawn."
His words doused any lingering desire inside her with their dose of reality. She turned and escaped into the motor home with a blush hotly staining her cheeks, her body trembling with need, with want.
She quickly changed into her sleep shirt, checked to see that Danny was sleeping peacefully, then crawled into bed with her unsatisfied longing for Luke as her bedmate.
Of course, he'd been right, she told herself firmly. She turned over on her back and blankly stared up at the bunk over her head. Her body felt heavy and a dull ache throbbed in her lower abdomen…the ache of unfulfillment.
She was glad he'd stopped them. Thank goodness he'd had enough sense to realize they were getting carried away, that desire had usurped good sense. Thank goodness he'd been strong enough to stop them from making a regrettable mistake. They'd already made enough of those.
And it would have been a mistake. Making love to Luke again would have been a monumental error on her part. They'd had their chance at love and marriage and had blown it, big time. Making love with him again wouldn't change the past and would only serve to complicate the future.
She'd worked so hard to put him out of her life, worked desperately to become strong enough to live without him. She closed her eyes, trying to forget the burning sweetness of his kiss, the fiery touch of his hands, the hunger he had stirred deep inside her. She turned over on her stomach, wishing the ache inside her would go away.
Still, even knowing that making love to Luke again would have been the biggest mistake of her life, she wished he'd been weak. She wished he'd have let it happen. She also realized she wasn't so strong, after all.
Chapter Five
When Sherri disappeared into the R.V., Luke went back over to the picnic table and sat down on top of the wooden structure, placing his feet on the bench just below.
Damn. Kissing Sherri had been a major mistake. He'd known it the minute his lips had touched the softness of hers, the moment he'd tasted the honeyed sweetness he'd nearly forgotten.
He'd been surprised by her response, and even more surprised by his own immediate reaction. His desire had been instantaneous, fierce and demanding. It had shocked him as his blood rocketed through his veins, taking him too quickly to full arousal.
Damn. He leaned back and looked up at the endless black velvet sky with its diamond chips of stars. For a moment as he'd kissed her, he'd been lost…lost in the pleasurable sensations of time suspended and the heady anticipation of passion sated. He'd momentarily forgotten their past, their situation, why they were together at all.
He'd wanted her. For just a fleeting moment as she'd molded her slender curves against him, as her lips had returned his hot kiss, he'd wanted her more than anyone he'd ever wanted in his life. Until that moment, he'd consciously suppressed the memory of how fantastic sex had always been with Sherri.
It had been her soft moan feathering the hollow of his neck that had pulled him abruptly from her spell. It had been that moan that had cast him back into reality, for it had been that remembered little sound that had nearly undone him. Thank God she had moaned, otherwise he might have taken her right here, in the cold of the night on top of the picnic table.
He released a deep sigh, allowing the last of his desire to expel itself harmlessly into the night breeze. That's where it belonged, dissipating in the atmosphere instead of complicating their lives.
As much as he'd like to indulge himself and make love with Sherri, he knew it would be unfair to her. Sherri was the kind of woman who would expect a commitment, and Luke knew better than anyone that Sherri's level of commitment was stifling, suffocating. He'd tried to live with it once, and it had been a hellish disaster for both of them. Neither of them could afford to make that kind of costly emotional mistake again.
Still, he'd been surprised by her sharing of her painful childhood with him. Surprised and somehow saddened. Perhaps if she'd shared that information with him before, when they'd been together, things might have turned out differently.
He now had a better understanding of her and the things she did. The rigid schedules, the fear of the unexpectedness, the
need to control every minute of every day…these were all by-products of living with alcoholic parents. It was the aftermath of growing up in an environment where she had not been in control.
Her statements had brought understanding, and understanding had evoked compassion. Where before he'd always been impatient with her emotional needs, he now understood so much that he hadn't. And along with the understanding and compassion also came a healthy dose of fear.
Dammit, he didn't want to fall beneath Sherri's spell again. He'd always believed you learned from mistakes, you didn't repeat them. In the past five years, Sherri had held a special place in his heart, as his ex-wife and the mother of his son. However, the kiss they had just shared had shaken the benign position she'd occupied in his thoughts. It had removed her from the category of ex-wife and mother and created evocative remembrances of her as a lover and a companion. He realized suddenly how much he'd missed Sherri's friendship. Although in the years they'd been married, he'd often felt suffocated by her neediness, there had been a time when he'd considered her his best friend. They'd shared a lot of laughter…something he hadn't shared much with anyone since.
He braced his elbows on his knees and propped his chin in his hands, his mind once again replaying the feel of her lips beneath his. He'd forgotten her taste, the sweet pliancy of her mouth. She'd always loved to kiss. When they had dated they had often spent hours just kissing…kissing…kissing, until he'd groan and call a halt to the frustrating foreplay. After a date with her, he'd spent many nights standing beneath the stinging needles of an icy shower, trying to cool the fiery flames of want that threatened to consume him.
He stood up and stared at the R.V., easily imagining her lying in the bottom bunk in her fresh-scented sleep shirt, her body warm and supple beneath the material. He emitted a low groan. He needed to forget the kiss. He needed to forget how much he had once enjoyed holding her, caressing her. More than anything, he needed to go inside and take a shower…a very cold shower.
* * *
"Danny, don't go too far," Sherri called to her son as he disappeared around a large rock outcropping.
"I won't." His voice wafted to them on the cold, still air.
"I'd better go with him," Luke said, pulling his lanky frame from the lounge chair where he had been sitting. "He shouldn't go off exploring on his own."
Sherri nodded, grateful when Luke passed from her sight. Since the kiss they had shared the night before, things had been decidedly awkward between them. Neither had acknowledged it, but Sherri was certain he felt the same way she did, that it had been a huge mistake on both their parts.
She went into the motor home and checked the chicken she was baking for supper. Seeing that it was browning nicely, she poured herself a large cup of coffee and went outside.
As she eased herself into the lounge chair Luke had just vacated, her thoughts once again swept back to their kiss.
Since the day they had decided to divorce, Sherri had never looked back. When she'd been young and growing up with her parents, she'd focused on only one thing…survival. When she'd married Luke, she had sought her entire identity through loving him and being his wife. She'd clung to him, needing the kind of security and love she soon knew he couldn't give her. Nobody could.
Immediately after their divorce, she'd realized she didn't know who she was or what she wanted from life. She'd never had the time or the energy to find out.
Since that time, she'd worked hard to make an identity for herself…one that was all her own. She loved her job as a teacher and knew she was good at it. She'd grown comfortable in her aloneness, needing only Danny to fulfill her.
But in that single instant of her lips meeting Luke's, her sense of peace had been irrevocably shattered. She now realized that her feeling of contentment had been an illusion she'd clung to, a false impression she'd wrapped around herself so she wouldn't notice her loneliness. Although Danny effectively filled her life with his laughter and smiles, his incessant chattering and childish wonder of the world, she now knew it wasn't enough.
She missed the sort of soul connection a woman could only feel for the man she loved, those moments when communication could be achieved with a glance, when the touch of a hand could say more than a million words. She missed sharing her dreams with another, being held tightly in the middle of a stormy night, laughing at a crazy bit of nonsense that only they understood. She missed having a lover who could sate her, yet leave her wanting more.
She sipped from her mug, consciously shoving aside these disturbing thoughts. She and Luke were a closed subject. They shared a past and a child, but that was all.
She stirred restlessly and looked around, noting that in the last hour several more motor homes had joined them in the state park campground. She was pleased. She'd been afraid that because of the time of year, they would be the only ones foolish enough to camp. Thank goodness good weather had traveled with them.
They were parked in a new R.V. park less than a mile from the south rim of the Grand Canyon and near a place where helicopter rides of the canyon were offered. They'd arrived at the park before noon, but rather than go on, they had decided to relax for the remainder of the day and head out early in the morning for their exploration of the canyon and all its wonder.
"Yoo-hoo."
Sherri sat up, startled by the feminine voice nearby. She stood as an older woman stepped into view, her silver hair glistening in the brilliant sunlight. She was deeply tanned, wore a fleece-lined bright purple jogging suit and walked with the energetic gait of a woman half her age.
"Hi, I'm Karen Wilson. Looks like we're going to be neighbors for the night." She gestured to the bright yellow R.V. backing into the space next to Sherri's. "The driver is my husband, Barry." She smiled at Sherri, the smile of a woman who had never in her life met a stranger. "Is that coffee you're drinking? It sure looks good."
"Uh…would you like a cup?" Sherri offered.
"I'd love it." Karen plopped down on one of the lounge chairs and swept a strand of her gray hair away from her broad forehead. "God love that man of mine, he got me up at four o'clock to start traveling this morning. He couldn't even wait for me to make a pot of coffee or choke down a doughnut or two."
"I can't help you out on the doughnuts, but I've got a whole pot of coffee in there." She smiled at Karen, instantly liking the woman who seemed to radiate a youthful vitality.
"That sounds heavenly. Barry and I take ours black."
Sherri went inside and quickly poured two cups of coffee, wondering what Luke would think of their friendly "neighbors." She had a feeling he would welcome their presence, especially given the tension that had existed between them for most of the day.
By the time she turned the baking chicken on low and returned outside, Barry had joined Karen. Karen introduced Sherri and he shook her hand warmly, his friendly smile and radiant vitality matching his wife's.
They were just about to sit down once again when Luke and Danny reappeared. "This is my son, Danny, and his father, Luke," Sherri said. Barry and Luke shook hands, then they all sat down.
"Where you folks from?" Barry asked, cradling the cup of coffee between his large hands.
"Connecticut," Luke replied, leaning back in his chair and stretching his long legs out before him. Sherri couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked in his worn, tight jeans and heavy sweatshirt. His face shone with the faint sheen of perspiration from his walk, and for a moment Sherri thought of their sweat-slickened bodies intimately wrapped together in an embrace of passion.
"We're going to fly over the Grand Canyon tomorrow," Danny added, bringing Sherri out of her erotic reverie. She quickly shifted her gaze from Luke and back to their guests.
"Ah, that should be great fun. Barry and I are taking one of the mule rides," Karen said, her gaze lingering on her husband affectionately. "And when we leave here, we're heading for skiing in Colorado. Barry still thinks we're energetic teenagers."
Barry grinned. "You're only as ol
d as you feel." He smiled at Karen, a tender, loving gaze that caused Sherri's heart to stir with a peculiar throb. "And when I'm with Karen, I feel like a teenager."
Karen laughed, a slight blush appearing beneath her tan. "He's a dotty old man, but I love him."
"So how long you folks here for?" Barry asked.
"A couple of days." Luke placed an arm around Danny, who sat next to him. "As long as it takes for this little buckaroo to get his fill of the place."
"Be sure to see it at sunset. With the pinks and oranges playing on the rock, the view is nothing short of spectacular," Karen suggested. "We've been coming here each winter for the past four years. This time of year, you don't have to fight crowds and the weather stays fairly mild. The canyon is something you can see again and again and never tire of."
"You'll love the helicopter ride," Barry said, smiling at Danny. "The pilots are mostly veterans, good flyers."
"Barry should know, he was a pilot in World War II," Karen explained.
"You were? A real pilot?" Danny leaned forward and looked at the older man in awe. "What kind of planes did you fly?"
"Uh-oh," Karen whispered under her breath to Sherri. "If he starts telling war stories, we might be here all night."
Sherri smiled and settled back in her chair, enjoying the look on Danny's face as Barry began to tell a tale of his days as a flying ace.
Barry was a natural storyteller and as he launched into account after account of his adventures, Sherri found herself as enthralled as Danny and Luke seemed to be.
However, it wasn't long until her attention started to wander from Barry's words to Luke. She watched her ex-husband covertly, enjoying the laughter that wrinkled the corners of his eyes and caused an elusive dimple to dance in one cheek. She'd always loved his smile. She'd once told him that it should be registered as a lethal weapon.
Anything for Danny Page 6