by Cate Masters
He settled back on the pillow. Disappointment tainted his relief. Sex had never been as great as it had been with Joss. And he’d been so indescribably delirious with bliss. He should have known it was too good to be true.
* * * *
Finally, Joss drifted into a restless sleep. The dream recurred throughout the night most vividly, the man in the lavender field making love to her with even more passion. In the morning, she awoke in a sweat and showered to wash off its remnants.
Throughout the day, she returned to the front door repeatedly. Except for Annie, no one arrived until late afternoon. The Andrews, three grown siblings and their parents, had sat down to the ham dinner when headlights shone into the kitchen.
Joss went to the door. “Kyle.” The familiar rush of joy hit her. Had he grown taller? Thinner? Her arms ached to hug him.
Annie smiled. “I knew he’d be here.”
Straining to see, Joss discerned a second figure. “And someone else.”
A girl about Kyle’s age climbed out of the driver’s side, and the two jogged toward the house hunched against the cold.
“Merry Christmas, Mom.”
She gathered him into her arms, inhaled his cold, clean scent. “Merry Christmas to you, baby.”
He tensed and drew away. Guess I better not call him that. He towered over her, wide-shouldered but body still lanky like a boy. So much like John, the same curly, dark hair and smiles too rare. At least he had her eyes.
To Kyle’s friend, she said, “Hi.” Almond-shaped, dark eyes met Joss’s gaze. She had a pleasant, heart-shaped face framed by straight dark hair past her shoulders, a purple streak running down one side, and a tiny diamond pierced her nostril.
“Oh, that’s Jana,” said Kyle. “Jana, Mom.”
The lithe girl flashed a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” No wonder Kyle had been so busy. The looks they shared gave away their relationship.
Kyle pecked Annie’s cheek. “Something smells great. Are we too late for dinner?” He glanced hopefully at the pans on the stove.
“Never. There’s always food for you.” Annie drew out two plates. “Help yourselves.”
Kyle and Jana sat at the kitchen island, speaking in low tones. Smiling almost nonstop.
Annie had already filled containers of food for Chet when Kyle brought their empty dishes to the sink.
“You finished quickly.”
Kyle focused on washing the dishes. “We have a party to go to.”
Joss struggled to hide her disappointment. “You’re leaving?”
“We’ll be back.” Kyle’s smile froze. “Jana’s spending the night, okay? I mean, you have extra rooms, don’t you?”
Smiling through her surprise, Joss said, “You’re in luck. We do tonight.”
Annie added, “Weekends and holidays have gotten pretty busy. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” Kyle opened the door and waved.
His friend said, “Nice meeting you. Thanks for dinner.”
Joss hovered near the window as they climbed into the car and drove off.
“He came home at least,” Annie ventured. “And she seems nice.”
“It would be nice if I could spend some time with him.” Since he’d decided to attend Penn State, she’d understood their visits would be limited by the two hours’ drive. She just hadn’t realized how limited. Before she went to bed, she left a note and a room key on the kitchen island.
Long past midnight, footsteps stumbled through the door and continued upstairs. Neither appeared until nearly noon the next day. Joss knew better than to entertain a fantasy of sharing an old-fashioned Christmas morning with her son. She kept her tone casual when he shuffled into the kitchen. “How was the party?”
In a gravelly voice, Kyle said, “Awesome. Any coffee?”
Taz reared on his hind legs and stretched to his full length so Kyle could scratch his neck.
“I just brewed a fresh pot. I have a small turkey in the oven. It’ll be ready about four. Are you up to opening gifts?”
His face fell. “I didn’t know we were giving presents this year.”
“It’s nothing extravagant. Don’t worry.” Gifts were the last thing on Kyle’s mind, apparently. Not that she cared. It was enough to have him here. She led him to the front room, and handed him the three wrapped packages. With Taz lying near the tree, it almost seemed like the holiday they used to share.
The hooded sweatshirt, jeans and scarf he acknowledged with shy thank yous. After opening the small gift bag holding one hundred in cash, he kissed her cheek. “Sorry I didn’t get you anything.”
“I don’t need anything.” At the hollowness of the words, she nearly crumbled, and feared tears would escape. Jana descended the stairs, so she shook off the sadness and stood. “How about if I make French toast?”
The two said yes, so she set to work, grateful for something to occupy her hands, if not her mind. She wished the kitchen door didn’t provide a view of the veterinary practice. Each time she passed, she couldn’t help peer out to see if the blue SUV had returned. No vehicles sat in the main parking lot.
After feeding the kids, she left them on their own to speak freely.
Mid-afternoon, Lydia called, breathless with excitement. “I had the most fantastic dream. Two dreams, actually.”
Joss chuckled. “Merry Christmas, Aunt Lydia.”
“Merry Christmas. Are you alone?”
What a strange question. “No, I’m not.”
“I knew it.” Triumph edged her tone. “Who’s with you?”
“Kyle and his friend.” Or girlfriend? Kyle hadn’t mentioned her before, so Joss wouldn’t assume.
“Oh.” Her voice fell flat. “I thought sure it would have happened already.”
“What would have happened?”
“My dream. Don’t you want to hear? You know they always come true.”
Maybe her aunt’s did. Joss’s certainly didn’t. “All right.”
Lydia’s voice deepened. “A man will bring you a gift of luck wrapped in gold, and happiness tied in a bundle that you’ll both give away.”
“I didn’t know either one could be wrapped in such a way.” Joss laughed in spite of the strange apprehension shimmering within her. What sort of bundle? And how would they both give it away?
Her aunt continued. “I’m not sure how these fit together. The second dream was the best. Something to do with the lavender field.”
“What?” Joss tensed.
“I know you haven’t planted it yet. You intend to, don’t you?”
“This spring, yes.”
“In this field of lavender, you will find the greatest sexual fulfillment you’ve ever known. This man will be your lifelong lover and friend.”
My dream. “Enough. I mean it.”
“I’m only telling you my dream, darling. The most sensual dream you can imagine.”
She already knew, but couldn’t admit it to Lydia. “Didn’t Santa bring you anything else?”
Tittering laughter trickled through the phone. “Oh, my dear, you know I don’t rely on mythological figures to fulfill my needs. I’m more self-sufficient than that. And so are you.”
“If only.” Then she wouldn’t obsess about the night Eric took her over the moon.
“Chin up, dearest. Soon my dream will be your reality, and oh, do I envy you.”
When Kyle came in, Joss jumped at the opportunity. “Here’s Kyle. Say Merry Christmas to Aunt Lydia.”
Taking the phone, Kyle said, “Merry Christmas, Aunt Lydia. Are you coming for dinner?”
Joss bustled around the kitchen, preparing a full meal, and was glad Kyle and Jana picked up slack in the conversation during dinner. They left soon after, as Joss suspected they might.
“Guess it’s just you and me again, Taz.”
When Annie called to wish her happy holidays, she invited Joss over for dessert. “I bak
ed your favorite. Chocolate cheesecake.”
“Tempting. But no, thanks. Taz and I are going to watch a movie.” An image flashed in her mind of her and Eric in bed, Taz and a bowl of popcorn between them. Stop it.
“I’ll save you a slice. How did everything go today?”
If it hadn’t been for Lydia’s weird phone call, the day might have been better. She wouldn’t confide it to Annie. “The three of us had a nice time.”
Tonight would be nicer if her vision came true. No chance of that. Eric was gone and had been avoiding her anyway. Yes, she’d hoped he’d take some time to decide what he really wanted. Apparently, he wanted Sheree. Tom had taken too much pleasure in sharing the fact Eric was dating her. To ignore the sting of his rejection, Joss had put off making a decision about veterinary care for Taz. A reminder postcard had arrived with a few holiday cards. She’d planned to have Eric take over care of her dog, but how awkward would that be?
She filled the popcorn maker and popped in the DVD. “Come on, boy. Let’s go watch a movie.” Not the holiday celebration she’d hoped for, but it would have to do.
* * * *
Since arriving home two days earlier, he’d spent all his energy fighting the urge to drive into town. It had exhausted him, so he gave in. Gripping the steering wheel, his nerves rattled more than the truck’s springs. A parking space opened up near the diner, and he slid the truck in. He dragged himself inside and hoped the struggle would ease. Patrons occupied every last table, so he took a stool at the far end of the counter.
Sheree approached, hips swishing. “What’s your pleasure?” she asked in a breathy voice. Normally a dull platinum, her hair reflected an unnatural sheen, like it had been recently lacquered.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. “Tuna pita, please. And iced tea.”
Her light brown eyes reflected a strange tinge of orange. “You eat such healthy food.”
“Not always. Dinner’s a challenge.” Right now, breathing seemed a challenge.
Cradling the order pad to her chest, she sighed. “I know. Come to dinner at my place. I’ll cook you something hot and delicious.” From the gleam in her eye, and the way she bit her fingernail, she might have said let’s have hot, nasty sex.
His appetite waned. “Oh, no. I couldn’t impose.”
“I insist. We can’t have you eating frozen dinners, even the manly kind.” Her lips curled in a way that reminded him of Catwoman. Her eyes, too, appeared more slanted. Maybe she’d undergone plastic surgery recently.
“I don’t eat those.” Not the point, he knew. Not in the least. Warmth crept up his neck. He worried he might be sick to his stomach. Thankfully, only words spilled out. “Why not let me take you to dinner instead?” He croaked the question, and immediately wished he could take it back.
She pressed her hips against the counter. “Seriously? When, tonight?”
“No,” he blurted. Embarrassed, he clarified, “I have appointments tonight. How about Saturday?” He needed time to psych himself up for it.
“Saturday’s great. What time?”
No pretense of having to check her calendar? Didn’t most females follow standard dating procedure? “Um, seven?”
Leaning toward him accentuated her cleavage. Magnified it. When he tried to look away, his gaze held there as if caught in the dark matter, the black hole between her breasts. His head swirled, and he unwittingly drew closer as if caught in a sci-fi tractor beam.
“Make it six.” The sibilance of the word hung in the air like acrid smoke.
“Okay. Six.” Did an hour make any difference?
Standing straight, she broke his line of vision, and his head cleared. After a mental shake, he gulped the milk she set before him.
“Your pita will be out in a jif.” With a slow wink, she sauntered to the kitchen.
He checked to see if anyone watched. Sheree acted a bit off the wall today. She’d never come on to him like this before.
Though Sheree continued waiting on other customers, he had the distinct impression she kept him in her peripheral vision. Without staring, he tried to pinpoint, exactly, what seemed different about her. The set of her shoulders—squared instead of slouched. The firm tone in her voice, not soft like it used to be. Definitely the hard gleam in her eye. Cold and distant, despite the enthusiasm she’d shown. No, not enthusiasm. Greediness, then victory. As if she’d laid in wait for him, and when he asked her out, she snapped up the chance with the chomp of an alligator.
Reaching for a packet of sugar for the iced tea, Eric drew back his hand. A mercurial glob rolled across the counter toward the arm of the man beside him. Before Eric could think to warn the guy—of what? Stray mercury from the tuna?—it shot up the man’s arm, crossed his shoulder, climbed his neck and disappeared inside his ear.
Stifling a gasp, Eric froze. “Are you all right?” Had he seen something inexplicable? Or maybe some play of light had caused the strange illusion.
The man swiped at his ear with his finger, the way people do to wave off an insect. “Sure. How’s it going with you?” His pupils dilated to an enormous size, then flashed silver.
Stiffening, Eric leaned away. Something weird was definitely going on, and it had nothing to do with the tuna.
The man’s eyes glazed. “Come to think of it, I’m suddenly not well. Sheree, what do I owe you?” He pulled out his wallet and wobbled to a stand.
No wonder such a strange unsettledness crept over Eric. Surreal, like he’d been thrust into a low-budget remake of The Twilight Zone. Left and right, no other unusual globules lurked. He wasn’t about to take any chances. “I have to go too.”
The walls closed in, the door loomed too far away, as if at the other end of a tunnel. His heart rate climbed the stairway to heaven. A clammy sweat greased his palms. The diner took on a carnival atmosphere, people talking too loudly, their conversations drowned out by laughter and flatware clinking against the white dishes. Everything blurred, as if he rode a carousel.
Everything except for Sheree. The sole unmoving thing in the blur, she stared with intense eyes.
Squinting to focus, he pulled out his cell, pretending to check a message. Standing clumsily, he bumped the man sitting on the stool beside him.
“Where are you going?” Sheree spoke in two different voices, an impossibly deep, menacing voice parroting her soprano. His spine literally tingled. The rest of him went numb. “Uh…”
She sidled closer. “You haven’t eaten yet. You’re not leaving, are you?”
“Yes.” He whirled toward the door.
“Wait,” ordered the two voices.
Like a puppet whose strings snapped tight, he halted. “What?” he managed to croak.
Her deep voice echoed inside his head. “You haven’t paid.”
Gulping hard, he drew out his wallet and tossed a twenty on the counter. “Keep the change.”
She commanded, “Not so fast.”
Panic churned up, and his tongue thickened.
Appearing at his side, she held up an order slip. “Here’s my number.” Tucking it into his shirt pocket, she peered up at him through slitted eyes. Dagger-hard eyes.
He tittered like a little girl. “Oh, right.”
When she sidled away dismissively, the invisible force released him. As he scrambled for the door, the two voices called after him in a sing-song tone. “Call me.”
The door closed behind him, and the pressure in his chest eased, but not much. “Like hell.”
Chapter 8
Joss whistled for Taz. “Time for your vet visit, boy. Annie, we’ll be back in about an hour and a half.”
Annie frowned in puzzlement. “Why not take him to Doc Hendricks?”
Joss held up the leash. “He’s so gruff.”
Taz slunk away.
“What’s wrong with you? Let’s go.”
Instead, he trotted to the bedroom.
Not in the mood to be trifled with, she carried the
harness in and secured it around him. “I’d planned to wait until we got there for this. Apparently today it’s more than a formality.”
Three months had passed since she’d seen Eric. The few times he’d made a stable call, she’d been off on errands and missed his visit.
Good thing. Tom still went out of his way to tell her Eric was dating Sheree. Sheree! Joss had trouble wrapping her head around it. The night of the Halloween party, Eric had avoided the waitress like a rabid animal. Why date her?
Because you pushed him away after Thanksgiving.
Annie still stood in the foyer. “I agree he’s not the easiest person to talk to, but his reputation as a vet is wonderful. Did you know he stayed up all night with Mrs. Albright’s dog when Mr. Tibbles accidentally ate a can of macadamia nuts?”
“He did?” It shouldn’t have surprised her. The way he bent to speak to Taz on his own eye level. The way he handled the horses, firm yet gentle. The same way he handled you.
“I trust Archie and Veronica’s lives to him,” Annie said. “All eighteen of them.”
Joss smiled. Archie and Veronica, Annie’s cats, lived an enviable life of luxury. “Taz is used to Dr. Marx, aren’t you boy?”
The dog lowered his head and whined.
Annie pursed her lips. “I think he’s trying to tell you something.”
“Too late now.” Joss held up the leash. “We’re going. Come on.”
She led him outside, and lifted him into the car when he wouldn’t jump. After she closed the door, he skulked in the seat.
Getting in, she told him, “No treat for you.”
The dog continued to fight her throughout the appointment. The vet assistant asked, “Is he sick? He’s usually so cooperative.”
She shot Taz a warning glance. “He’s fine. Just contrary today.”
On the ride home, he rested his chin against the half-open window.
When they arrived home, she ushered him through the back door. “I’m disappointed in you, mister. Behave, or else.”
Annie wiped her hands on a towel. “I don’t think he wanted to go.”
“Please.”
“You and he have a bond, stronger than my bond with Archie and Veronica.” The impassioned plea took her voice up a notch.