by Mollie Molay
Nothing, Emily’s heart told her as she plunged into another miracle.
Caution would have to wait, her hungry senses told her. She watched him disrobe. First, the knit shirt came off, then the ribbed T-shirt. The muscles on his tanned arms and chest rippled with his every movement. How could she have forgotten how much she loved him?
“Your turn.” He grinned. “On second thought,” he said, “maybe it’s still my turn.”
Mesmerized by the sensuous promise in his voice and in his clear blue eyes, Emily nodded. She was thrilled by the kisses he dropped on her heated skin as he helped her off with her cotton camp shirt and linen shorts. “We were made for each other, Em,” she heard him whisper. She wanted to believe him.
Belonging to him was the most glorious moment in her life. Cuddled in T.J.’s arms, she finally fell asleep.
Sometime later a voice awakened her. “Em?”
“Um?”
“I’m hungry,” he said, dropping little kisses along her bare shoulder. “In fact, I’m starved.”
She smothered a sound of pleasure and turned around to face him. “If you have more loving in mind, give me a moment to wake up so I can enjoy it.”
“Later,” he said with a rueful laugh. “Right now I’m afraid it’s the truth. I really am starved.”
“How can you still be hungry after this?” She waved at the rumpled sheets, the pillows tossed helter-skelter and the tangle of clothing on the floor.
“You may be right,” he answered with a rueful smile, “but the truth is, I didn’t even stop to eat when you called. As for more of this,” he tenderly kissed each breast. “I promise there’s going to be a later.”
The doubt that lingered in the back of her mind lifted with each kiss. “Promises, promises.”
“I never make a promise I don’t keep.” He nuzzled the sensitive skin between her breasts and ran his hands over her shoulders. “I’m still hungry.”
“I’ll feed you, Mr. Kirkpatrick,” she said breathlessly, “but first things first.”
“Second things, or maybe third,” he teased. “If I’m not mistaken, we’ve already taken care of the first.”
Emily blushed. She had invited him here for a reason other than making love with him, but the love shining from his sparkling blue eyes had sidetracked her. If she didn’t let him go long enough to check out the window and the wall in her aunt’s room, they’d be back to the first item on the list. Even as her body ached for him, reason told her there was a time and place for everything.
“How about checking out the other bedroom while I make some sandwiches?”
“You’re a good woman.” T.J. stepped into his crumpled jeans and winked as he pulled up his zipper. “Make it a double sandwich, or maybe a triple. All this hard work makes a guy hungry.”
Emily blushed at the reminder they’d just spent hours exploring each other. And that one discovery had led to another until they’d lost track of time. “I’ll do my part,” she said as she headed for the kitchen. “You just make sure you do yours.”
Armed with the crowbar he’d brought with him when Emily had called, T.J. made his way across the hall. The sight of the damp, crumbling wall made him grimace. Whatever was wrong with the wall, or with the roof for that matter, it was clearly a major job for T. J. Kirkpatrick Historic Building Restoration. There was little he could do now.
Instead of going back and telling Emily, his curiosity got the better of him. He returned to the room to take a good look. He had to wait while Emily rustled up some sandwiches, anyway.
As for the open window, the blast of ocean air and the clattering window shade that had awakened Emily was easy enough to explain. Someone had obviously left the window open. On the other hand, he remembered with a frown, Emily had told him the cottage hadn’t been inhabited for almost five years. Had Daniels or his henchmen gotten inside the cottage?
Until he’d met Emily and visited the cottage, he’d always considered himself a pragmatic man. He was still sensible, but things had changed. In order to keep Emily safe, he had to be detective as well as a restorer of other people’s dreams.
His mind awhirl, T.J. started in on the wall. How safe was Emily, living alone in the cottage in its present condition? He wondered. The answer was clear. She wasn’t safe. And not because of a hole in the cottage roof or a mildewed wall. But because the cottage’s window frames were made of weathered wood with glass panes that could be easily broken into, as someone already had. If not Daniels, then by some homeless drifter.
Either he had to persuade Emily to move in with him until Daniels came back and the estate was settled, or he had to move in with her. Both ideas appealed to him, but the question was, would they appeal to Emily? And what did he have to do to convince her they belonged together?
At what seemed to be an eternity later, he’d chipped away enough of the damaged wall to be able to see behind it. Enthralled, he saw a vintage movie poster advertising an early Greta Garbo movie, Mata Hari, set in between the lathe-and-plaster framework. It resembled posters he’d seen on display at museums and auction houses that were carefully encased in protective covering. Never, in the furthest reaches of his imagination, or in the process of restoring old movie theaters, had he ever expected to come across anything like this.
They obviously had reason for being there, he mused as he sat back on his heels. If the poster he’d seen on display at the Beaumont Hotel were any criteria, these were worth their weight in gold.
T.J. gingerly worked at the wall again. Unless he was wrong, there had to be more posters between the exterior and interior walls. From the condition of the mildewed wall, some of the posters were probably water damaged, but with the hot, dry climate, others would still have to be in good condition.
As to why they were in between the walls, as an experienced restoration builder and architect, he was pretty sure of the answer. They had to have been used as a cheap means of insulation when the Great Depression of the Thirties had hit, and the economy took a dive. Builders of the time had gone bankrupt and undoubtedly used whatever cheap material they could find.
As an amateur film historian, he knew somewhere there had to be a historical society who had blueprints that could prove his theory.
He also remembered there had been talk of making the Venice canal and the surrounding real estate into a designated historical area. When nothing had come of it, most of the land had been sold and turned into condominiums like the one next door for the new, wealthy cyberspace generation. If someone didn’t intervene, Emily’s cottage would surely suffer the same fate.
The important thing was if there were more posters between the walls, Emily would surely be a wealthy woman. And what would she decide to do if he told her what he’d found?
Chapter Twelve
The sound of a refrigerator door closing roused T.J. from his reverie. Any further search behind the walls would have to wait.
He made up his mind not to give Emily false hopes until he had a chance to tear down the interior bedroom wall and take a good look inside. If it turned out the walls actually hid more posters, he’d tell her then. The truth was, if Emily knew about the posters, he was afraid she would sell out and be on her way.
He dusted off his jeans, glanced over at the window to make sure it was securely locked and headed for the kitchen.
“Ready?”
Emily smiled and motioned to the plate of ham and cheese sandwiches and a fresh pot of steaming coffee. “I’m sorry it’s not more elaborate, but this is all I had in the house.”
“Good enough.” T.J. crossed the kitchen and planted a kiss on the tip of Emily’s nose. “I have an idea. How about taking a break after breakfast.”
Emily glanced at the door to the hall that led to her bedroom, rolled her eyes and shrugged. The day was young. The next item on her agenda would have to wait. “A break?”
“Sure. How about going to the carnival this afternoon.” He pulled out the brochure he had in his back pocket. “I
’m pretty sure I know how you feel about carnivals, sweetheart, and today is the last day. So how about putting on your costume, Miss Dorothy, and grabbing Toto. In broad daylight, and with me keeping you company, you have nothing to worry about.”
“It’s much prettier under the stars and the moonlight,” she answered wistfully, glancing through the kitchen window at the late afternoon sunshine. “But I’m game if you are. Did you bring your pirate’s costume with you?”
“Not this time.” He grinned and reached for a sandwich. “When you called, all I could think of was the urgency in your voice and how fast I could get over here. If you think I need a costume, I have my tool belt in the truck. I can go as a carpenter.”
Emily nodded. “Have you decided what to do about the bedroom wall?”
“Yep, but it will have to wait a while. It’s going to take more than a simple fix to do the job. I’ll have to get the company involved.” T.J. chewed thoughtfully and took a swallow of coffee. “We probably need a new roof. I’m sorry, but it’s going to take a while.”
“Did you say ‘we’?”
“Yes, I did,” he answered. “You haven’t forgotten I offered to buy the cottage, have you?” She shook her head. “After my company puts the cottage back into its original condition, I plan on giving it back to you as a wedding present.”
“It’s a little too soon to talk about wedding presents, don’t you think? We’re not even married.” Emily gathered the empty cups and plates and sighed. “There are still things I have to think about. What will I do if it rains?”
T.J. glanced out the kitchen window. “Not to worry. There isn’t a cloud in the sky.” He eyed her sandwich. “If you’re not going to eat that, I still have a powerful hunger.”
She pushed the plate toward him. “Me, too.” She grinned and started for the sink. “But I guess I’ll have to settle for the carnival.”
T.J. felt guilty as hell. It was tell the truth and risk losing her, or wait and see what materialized. Between a rock and a hard place, he decided to get Emily out of the cottage until he had a chance to persuade her to move in with him.
“It’s not too soon for me, sweetheart.” T.J. followed her to the sink. When she turned around, he put his arms around her and nibbled at her ear. She smelled of coffee, ham and cheese, and darned if she didn’t taste a heck of a lot better than the real thing. “By the way, Em, how about moving in with me until the repairs are made?”
Emily hesitated. It wasn’t easy to make up her mind about something so important as moving in with T.J. “I hadn’t thought of leaving here yet, Tom. At least, not yet. As for getting married, I’m not sure I’m ready to make up my mind. I have some decisions to make.”
T.J. ran a finger across her lips. “I know. I know I haven’t courted you properly. And that maybe I still have something to prove.” He moved on to caress the side of her neck. “I still have high hopes, sweetheart. Until then, would you rather I stayed here with you? I can always sleep on the couch.”
She gazed at him in a way that made his mouth go dry and his knees turn to rubber. “Is that a real commitment, Tom?”
Realizing she was afraid he would change his mind, T.J. nodded and lifted her chin so that their lips could meet. Deep within, he knew that the next few moments would determine the path the rest of his life would take. “You bet! Just give me a chance to prove it to you.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” he answered. “But rather than rushing you, how about our taking that break and going out to enjoy the carnival?”
“I’ll get dressed.” T.J.’s heart beat faster when he saw the stars shining in her eyes. Was it the prospect of the carnival or moving in with him that put the stars there?
He held his breath. Maybe he was being selfish. Maybe he should have told her about the posters before he proposed their moving in together. The awful truth was that it was probably too late.
If he was right about the value of the hidden posters, Emily could live out any dream she’d ever had from day one. And any other dreams she might come up with in the future.
As if that thought wasn’t enough to tear him apart, he had a bigger problem to worry about. Would she still want to marry him when she had to finally confront the truth about his real identity?
It served him right. For letting Emily’s attractions get in the way. He should have insisted on proving he wasn’t Tim from the get-go and still have offered to help her. He’d been raised to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, hadn’t he? And yet, the first time he’d come face-to-face with a real choice, he’d chosen to perpetuate a lie.
He heard Emily singing “Over the Rainbow,” a sweet, nostalgic song that wished dreams would come true. He closed his eyes and prayed for guidance to any saint who had some spare time to hear him.
An hour later, to his relief, he was enjoying the carnival and even more pleasing, the sound of Emily’s laughter. A toddler ran into his leg. With a laugh, T.J. lifted the boy into the air and handed him to his mother. Instead of being angry at her son for running away, the mother smiled her thanks and hugged the kid. Just the kind of kid he hoped he and Emily would have some day, he thought with a side glance at Emily’s rapt expression.
Before long, he was holding a shopping bag containing a tissue-wrapped papier-mâché mask in one hand and a bag of Italian pastry in the other. The mask was for Emily because it reminded her of Italy. The cream-filled puff pastry was for him. To his chagrin, there wasn’t a pastry he could willingly pass up.
Emily carried her plush terrier Toto and munched on a cone of pink cotton candy. Like the character she portrayed, her auburn hair was parted in the middle and gathered on each side with bright red ribbons. Her eyes shone with happiness.
She made a perfect Dorothy for a perfect day, T.J. mused contentedly as they walked alongside the canal where multicolored lights were reflected in the water. Like her motion picture counterpart, she was eager to discover just what came next over the rainbow. Walking beside her, he was surprised to feel younger and more carefree than he had in years.
Maybe it was coming to grips with his adoption that had lessened the burden of his perceived responsibilities. His father’s assurance that T.J. had nothing to prove certainly helped. Or maybe it was Emily’s love and devotion. In any case, he’d finally turned his head around and put the past behind him where it belonged. Maybe he was a better man for doing it.
He smiled fondly over at Emily. She was licking the sweet pink spun sugar confection off her lips and sent his body and thoughts into overdrive. He couldn’t help himself. If ever a woman’s lips were meant to be kissed, they had to be Emily’s. And if ever there was a woman who could balance his workaholic and pragmatic personality with an idealistic view of the world, it was Emily. And that was all right with him.
He glanced up at the darkening sky in time to glimpse the first star to appear on the horizon.
At seven, he’d searched the heavens for the first star to appear. He wished then that his mother would come back for him and his younger brother so they wouldn’t have to continue to live in foster homes. No one seemed to want older children. The wish had partially come true but not the way he’d expected. His mother hadn’t returned, but he’d been blessed with wonderful new parents and a life any kid would have envied, adopted or not. In hindsight, he should have thanked his lucky star and never looked back at his troubled past.
Tonight, his wish upon the first star he’d glimpse was going to be about hoping to persuade Emily to believe in him.
Gazing up at the star, he found himself softly reciting the familiar jingle. “Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight I wish I may I wish I might have the wish I wish tonight.”
Emily paused in midbite and sidestepped a Harlequin and his lady who were too engrossed in each other to watch where they were going. It was a moment before she was able to come back to his side. “Did you say something, Tom?”
At first, T.J. felt f
oolish for having spoken the jingle aloud. Until he gazed into Emily’s questioning hazel eyes. Where was it written that a man couldn’t be sentimental and still be manly when he was with the woman he loved?
“I wished upon a star,” he said casually. “Just a kid’s game.” He hoped she wouldn’t laugh at him.
“I always wish on the first star I see, too,” she confessed with a shy grin. “If you tell me your wish, I’ll tell you mine.”
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
She nodded and crossed her heart. “I promise.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he answered even as he knew he couldn’t give away the wish. Gazing down at Emily’s star-filled eyes, he wanted to believe there would be years of tomorrows ahead for them. Days filled with her presence and the sounds of children. Nights filled with Emily in his arms while he showed her how precious she was to him. He glanced up at the star and took a chance on making a second silent wish. This time he wished that everything between them would turn out the way he hoped.
“I wished for a large dose of moonlight,” he compromised. “A dozen more stars and years of private moments with you.”
She brushed her fingers against his lips and smiled into her eyes. “You’ll never know how much you touch my heart, Tom.”
“Emily!”
To T.J.’s chagrin, a loud voice broke into the warm rapport that had fallen between himself and Emily. He glanced over his shoulder to see a vaguely familiar man push his way through the crowded walk and head toward them. The guy looked vaguely familiar.
“Hold up there a minute, Emily! I want to talk to you.”
As the man got closer, T.J. recognized Emily’s former fiancé. His warm feeling vanished in the blink of an eye. The guy’s timing sure stank.
Emily’s rapt smile disappeared. “I’m afraid it’s Sean, my ex-fiancé. I have to talk to him.”
T.J. recalled the scene back at the Beaumont when he’d seen the man embrace Emily, and he gritted his teeth. He’d have to hear her dream later. “Go ahead, but remember I’m here if you need me.”