by Pamela Bauer
“Someone’s up,” he said, gesturing toward the glass patio door.
Frannie slid the door open, and Joe heard Luke say, “I gots to go potty, Mommy.”
“Come on,” she said, scooping him up into her arms and carrying him to the bathroom. A few minutes later, when he’d been tucked back in bed, Frannie returned.
She didn’t sit back down, but remained standing. “I had no idea it was so late!”
Joe knew it was his cue to leave. Reluctantly, he rose. “I enjoyed tonight, Frannie.”
“Me, too. I’m just sorry it has to end.”
“I’d like to see you again.”
“Joe…” Her voice had an apologetic tone to it that he didn’t like.
There was only one way to convince her she shouldn’t end this. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She seemed startled at first, her lips firm and unyielding as he pressed against them. Then, as he slowly coaxed a response from her, her body relaxed, her arms sliding across his shoulders. She pulled him closer, her lips parting to receive his tongue. As the kiss deepened, she moved against him, letting him know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
When the kiss finally ended, they were both breathing heavily. “Guess what happened the night of the storm wasn’t my imagination, was it.”
She simply shook her head.
“You felt what I did, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
“Good. I want to see you again,” he said, his forehead gently pressing against hers, his breath warm against her cheek.
“But you live in Grand Marais and I live in Minneapolis.”
“Aren’t you going to be in Duluth tomorrow?” he asked next to her ear, nibbling along her neck with his lips.
“Yes, but so are my kids.”
“Just because I like kissing you doesn’t mean I can’t be happy simply being with you,” he said huskily.
To his surprise, she pulled his head back to hers, leaving him in no doubt that she, too, liked kissing him.
“I’d better go,” he said when it had ended, then placed one more butterfly kiss on her mouth before starting across the courtyard.
“What about tomorrow?” she called after him.
“I’ll be in touch,” he answered, then went back to his room before his hormones got him into any more trouble.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JOE WAS HANDSOME, intelligent and romantic. What more could a woman ask for? He stood before Frannie with a dozen red roses in one hand, a box of chocolates in the other and a look in his eye that sent shivers of pleasure through her.
“I want you.”
The words flowed around her, intoxicating her like a fine wine. She’d forgotten how powerful physical attraction could be.
“Who’s that?” she asked, noticing the older woman behind him.
“A licensed child care provider. She’s going to stay with the kids so we can spend the entire day together without any interruptions.”
Excitement bubbled up inside her. “You did all this for me?”
He nodded. “I want you.”
For Frannie they were three heart-stopping, breathtaking words.
“Say that again,” she murmured.
“I want you!”
“Again,” she begged.
“I want food!”
Food? With a jerk Frannie opened her eyes and saw Luke leaning over her. It had been a dream. She wasn’t with Joe, but on the pull-out sofa with a three-year-old in her face. She sighed.
Last night had been no dream. She felt a tingle of pleasure at the memory. She and Joe had shared a bottle of wine, eaten calamari and crab cakes and talked into the wee hours of the morning. He may not have said the words “I want you,” but his kisses had conveyed that message very well.
“Mommy, get up. I’m hungry.” Luke interrupted her thoughts for a second time.
She glanced at the clock. It was barely past six and her head ached. “It’s too early to get up. Let Mommy rest a bit longer,” she pleaded, grimacing at the thought of how little sleep she’d had. What had she been thinking to allow Joe to stay until almost three in the morning?
She knew the answer to that question without any great soul-searching. Last night he’d made her remember what it was like to be a woman, and she’d liked that feeling. So much so that she hadn’t wanted him to leave even though she knew it was crazy to be entertaining thoughts of asking him to stay.
“But Mommy, I’m hungry,” Luke whined.
“All right,” she mumbled, throwing the covers aside and getting out of bed. As she staggered across the room, she grimaced in pain, unsure whether the headache was from a lack of sleep or from having had more than one glass of wine.
Whatever the cause, she needed aspirin. She found some in her purse, quickly swallowed them with a glass of water, then dug through the bag of food she’d brought along for the kids until she found the box of cereal and a small bowl.
Using the remote control, she turned on the TV, set Luke beside her on the bed, poured the cereal into the bowl and handed it to him. “Watch TV and eat your Cheerios while Mommy rests, okay?”
She knew she couldn’t go back to sleep, but she needed to lie down and close her eyes or else the throbbing in her head would never go away. She couldn’t afford to miss her appointment with Howard Peterson—not after she’d been given the hotel suite at the newspaper’s expense.
To her relief, Luke was content to watch cartoons and munch on his cereal. However, she’d just lowered her head to the pillow when he said, “Mommy, I can’t hear the TV.”
Without lifting her head, she groped for the remote, bringing it close so she didn’t have to lift her head to see the buttons. “We have to keep it low so we don’t wake up Emma and Alex,” she told him as she increased the volume slightly.
Hearing his “okay,” she closed her eyes, willing the pain reliever to take effect so that the top of her head didn’t feel as if it might follow the shuttle into orbit. Oh, why had she allowed Joe to refill her wineglass?
Because she liked wine. Besides she hadn’t had all that much to drink. Certainly not enough to warrant such a throbbing headache. She’d shared the company of an attractive man who’d made her feel special. It had been one of the nicest evenings she’d had in a very long time and worth the headache she was suffering from this morning.
She allowed her thoughts to drift back to their conversation. There’d been none of the usual posturing men and women often did when getting to know one another. It had been easy—so easy that Frannie had felt as if she’d been talking to a good friend.
Only, this morning it wasn’t the talking that stood out in her mind. It was the way she’d reacted to his kisses. She supposed it was only natural. Since Luke was born there’d been very little kissing in her life. And none that could even come close to being as passionate as last night’s.
When Joe had kissed her at the lake, it had been to prove something. Last night he’d taken her in his arms for completely different reasons. There had been no mistaking the hunger those kisses had stirred. It was an intoxicating thought, and one that stayed with her as she drifted in and out of sleep.
The next time Frannie opened her eyes, Emma was next to Luke and was channel surfing with the remote. Frannie forced herself to her elbows and asked, “What time is it?”
“Seven-fifteen,” Emma answered. “Were you dreaming? You had a funny smile on your face.”
Frannie hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt.
“Actually, I had a headache, which is why I fell back to sleep. Is Alex up?”
“Uh-uh. Do we really get breakfast free?”
“Yes, it’s included with the room.” Frannie sat up. “We should probably get going. My appointment’s at ten. Watch Luke while I shower, okay?”
“Sure.”
By the time she’d showered and dressed, Alex, too, was lying on the pull-out sofa, watching TV. As soon as he saw his mom he asked, “Can we go swimming this morning?”
“I told you I have work to do,” she reminded him.
“Not till ten.” He went over to the patio door and pulled back the heavy drape. There in plain sight was the table still set with linen and the dirty dishes. “Where’d that come from?” He shot his mother an accusing glance.
“I had room service after you went to bed last night,” she replied, trying to make it sound as if it were no big deal. “Emma, find Luke’s shoes, will you? Everyone needs to get dressed so we can go eat. I have to be at Howard Peterson’s by ten.” She walked over and pulled the curtain shut again.
But Alex’s curiosity had been aroused. He once more pushed it aside and opened the patio door.
Emma shrieked, “You can’t go out to the pool in your pajamas!”
He didn’t go out to the pool. He stepped onto the patio and examined the dishes on the table, then he stood in the open doorway, his hands on his hips. “How come there are two glasses?”
Frannie could have kicked herself for not getting rid of the evidence. All she would have had to do was gather the dishes onto the room service tray and set them outside the door. Someone would have picked them up. Now Alex was snooping around like a detective examining the scene of a crime.
“Room service always sends two of everything,” Frannie lied, ignoring the guilt that pounded her conscience like the waves pounded the rocky shores of Lake Superior. She stepped around him and began gathering the dishes onto the serving tray. “Go get dressed so we can have breakfast.”
He picked up the empty wine bottle. “You drank a whole bottle of wine?”
“Alex, did you hear me?” Her voice became stern. “I said go get dressed.”
She gave him one of her looks that warned him he’d better drop the subject and do as he was told or risk her wrath. To her relief, the look still worked, and he stepped back inside the suite, mumbling something to Emma as he passed her.
Frannie didn’t ask her daughter what he’d said, but took the tray with the incriminating dishes and set it outside the door. As Emma helped her tidy the room and put their things back in the suitcase, Frannie could see that her daughter was as curious as Alex was about what had happened after they’d gone to bed.
After all the lies that Dennis had told the children, Frannie had sworn always to be honest with them, even if the truth meant answering difficult questions. She didn’t want to break that vow, but today she didn’t need the distraction a discussion involving Joe would create. Later she would tell them he’d been there last night, but not now.
By the time they headed for the dining room where breakfast was being served, she’d had enough curious looks from both Emma and Alex to send her on a mammoth guilt trip. Frannie could only hope that Joe wouldn’t be at breakfast. What she didn’t want to have to deal with over oatmeal and muffins was her growing attraction to the man, as well as Alex’s increasingly suspicious feelings regarding him.
While the kids headed for the serving line, she made a quick survey of the room. About half the tables were taken, and to Frannie’s dismay, Joe was at one of them. He sat alone at a large round table, a newspaper in front of him, a cup of coffee next to his hand.
It didn’t take long for Alex to see him, too. “What’s he doing here?” he asked his mother.
“Probably having breakfast like everyone else,” Frannie answered. Just then, Joe looked up. His smile made her breath catch in her throat.
“Why’s he coming over here?” Alex asked as Joe set the newspaper aside and started across the dining room.
“I don’t think he’s eaten yet. There aren’t any dishes on his table,” Emma guessed.
Luke had spotted the scrambled eggs and was making it known that he wanted some. Frannie reached for a tray, welcoming the diversion.
“Maybe he wants to eat with us. It’s not very much fun to be by yourself,” Emma said as Joe approached them.
“He’s not going to eat with us, is he?” Alex looked at Frannie.
“I don’t know,” Frannie answered, putting some scrambled eggs onto Luke’s plate.
“Mom, don’t let him!” Alex begged her.
She sighed. “Please don’t do this, Alex. The man has been very patient and understanding of every-one’s feelings, especially yours. Just be quiet and behave yourself.”
He looked as if he wanted to sulk, but Emma remarked, “Oh, look! Chocolate chip pancakes. And they even have whipped cream! Hurry, Alex. There aren’t very many left.”
Alex grabbed a tray and headed toward his sister. Relieved, Frannie added a small cup of applesauce and a muffin to Luke’s tray, just as Joe’s voice sounded over her shoulder.
“Good morning.”
“Hi. I’m getting Luke his breakfast,” she said, stating the obvious.
“I can see that,” he said with a heart-stopping grin. “Did you sleep well?”
“Fine, thank you,” she muttered. “And you?”
“Very well.” The look in his eyes told her he was remembering what had happened between them last night. It was as if they shared a secret, and Frannie, to her embarrassment, blushed.
“Mom, where should we sit?” Emma relieved the tension, looking at her mother with a full tray in her hands.
“Why don’t you join me? There’s plenty of room,” Joe suggested. “And it’s right next to the beverage bar.”
Before Frannie had a chance to respond, Alex said, “It’s better to be up front ’cause then we can go back for more food if we want.”
It wasn’t because of Alex that Frannie hesitated. She’d realized that she’d never eaten a meal with her children and a man other than Dennis. She’d never made it to that point in any relationship, and a little voice in her head told her she shouldn’t be at that stage with Joe.
However, the truth was, seeing Joe made her feel good. But if he was going to be scared away by her children, she figured she might as well make the discovery now, rather than later.
“Near the beverage counter is good. Thank you, Joe,” she said, motioning for Emma and Alex to follow her as she carried Luke’s tray to the table that held Joe’s coffee cup and newspaper. She ignored the clicking of her older son’s tongue.
As soon as the three kids had beverages, flatware and napkins, Frannie went back to the serving line to get her own tray. Joe was right behind her.
“I lied earlier,” he said close to her ear.
“About what?” she asked, aware of his nearness.
“Sleeping well. I tossed and turned because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Frannie.” The words were like a soft caress.
“We had a nice time last night,” she said, willing her hand not to shake as she reached for half a grapefruit. She’d forgotten how to flirt with a man, and she felt very inexperienced and nervous.
“It was better than nice,” he said, spooning up some eggs.
Determined to be poised, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “Yes, it was.”
“I’d like to spend today with you.”
“Unfortunately, I have work to do,” she reminded him, turning her attention back to the food.
“What about the kids?”
“They’re coming with me.”
“I could come along and keep them entertained for you,” he offered.
“As much as I’d like to say yes, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” She glanced over her shoulder—as she expected, Alex watched them with an eagle eye.
He noticed. “Because of Alex?”
“Because I’d be distracted,” she said with a slow grin.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one,” she said, finally warming to flirtation.
“Good, because last night was…” He paused, his gaze not allowing her to look away. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but even though we haven’t spent very much time together, I feel as if I’ve known you a long time. Everything seems easy…and right.”
“I know what you mean. I feel that way, too,�
� she admitted. “In a short time we’ve discovered a lot about one another, haven’t we.”
“I want to get to know more.” There was more than desire in his voice. There was promise. And hope.
“That will be a little simpler once we get the lab results,” she said as she reached the end of the serving line. She paused to wait for him.
“And Alex accepts I’m not his father.”
“Yes.” They started toward the table, ending any further conversation.
It was with more than a little trepidation that Frannie sat down with Luke on one side and Alex on the other. She wanted to think that in public her children would be on their best behavior, but she also knew that Alex was already cranky, and when it came to Luke, she never knew when her son would do something outrageous.
To her relief, there was no food thrown, no bathroom words uttered for shock effect, no bickering over imagined offenses. It helped that Alex chose to be quiet, that Emma was fascinated by everything Joe said and that Luke actually ate with a spoon instead of his fingers.
The only difficult moment came after Luke asked for more chocolate milk. Joe went to get it, and returned with a full glass. Before Frannie could reach over and help Luke, he had grabbed the glass and it tipped over onto the table, shooting a stream of dark brown liquid in Joe’s direction. Luke howled, and Joe’s eyes widened as chocolate milk pooled in his lap.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” Frannie exclaimed, reaching over to right the tipped glass. “Emma, go get extra napkins,” she ordered, trying to mop up as best she could with the one she had.
Joe shoved his chair back to get away from the milk still trickling over the edge of the table. Frannie tried to calm Luke and at the same time not be appalled by the size of the wet spot on Joe’s trousers.
“Joe, I’m so sorry,” she repeated, having to talk louder than normal to be heard over Luke’s wailing. “This is my fault. I should have told you to only fill the glass halfway.”
He waved away her apology. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine,” he said, taking the stack of napkins Emma held out to him. While he blotted his trousers, Frannie managed to get Luke to stop crying by holding him on her lap.