"But you want to see him, to…date him?"
Aleta chuckled. "Date him? How strange to think of dating my own husband. But yes. I want us to be together. But not all the time. At least not yet." She gave Corrine's hand another squeeze, and then wrapped her arm around her. "Which is why I'm thinking I should move out. Because I know you don't care for him—and for good reason. He's never behaved well when it comes to you, though he's promised me he sees the light on that score."
Corrine grunted. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"And I do understand your skepticism. But the point is, wherever I am, he's going to be around. Until I move back home—or break it off for good."
"Stay."
"It's too much to ask of you."
"No, it's not. I don't like him, but I can put up with him. And if you stay here, you're in a place he has no claim on, a place he can't get a claim on. It gives you power. And we girls, we need our power."
"Well said. And I agree completely. But I could find another place where he has no power over me. It's not as if I'm destitute. I do have plenty of money of my own, you know."
Corrine did know. "You were born a Randall. And the Randalls are very big dogs in SA, big dogs with a whole bunch of bucks."
Aleta grinned. "Exactly. I've always had my own money, my own accounts and investments. And I inherited even more when my parents passed on. I could so easily buy myself a place—or simply rent one, for that matter."
"But why go to all that trouble, when you can just stay here until you're sure of what you want to do? Plus, here you have me and Kira. Much nicer than living alone, don't you think?"
Aleta let out a slow sigh. "You're certainly right about that."
"Yes, I am. And don't worry. If Davis drives me too crazy, I can just go to Matt's." Corrine said it and then realized what she was doing. Setting up an excuse to go to him. How pathetic was that? She added, too casually, "Or something."
"Of course you could. Matt has plenty of room…" Aleta's expression was downright angelic. If she knew what was going on between Matt and Corrine lately, she was staying out of it.
"And then there's your nut bread. You don't want to deny me that. Let alone having to find a new nighttime sitter for your granddaughter. You should let me put that off as long as possible."
"You do have a point there."
"Say yes."
"Oh, Corrine…"
"Come on. Say it."
"If you're sure…"
"I'm sure, I'm sure. Bottom line, I love having you here. And Kira loves having you here. Since you've been here, I don't miss my mom quite so much. What else is there to say?"
Aleta's arm tightened around her shoulder. "Sometimes I feel like you're one of my daughters. You know, don't you, that whenever you need me, you only have to tell me so."
Aleta's gentle words warmed her heart and brought her mom to mind. No doubt, in heaven, Kathleen Lonnigan was smiling to know that her daughter had another "mom" watching out for her. "Good, then. It's settled. You're staying."
* * *
When Corrine woke up at eleven the next morning, Davis had already left, which was just fine with her. She would put up with him for Aleta's sake when she had to—and be grateful when she didn't.
Corrine considered going to the afternoon service at New Life Unification Church. But really, she needed to move on, find another church. This time she wouldn't make the mistake of getting romantic with the pastor. So she chose another church at random from the phone book.
It wasn't all that comforting, sitting by herself in a pew among strangers. Plus, the sermon was on the same topic Bob would be preaching on that day: sin and forgiveness. It kind of made her wonder if God was trying to tell her something.
At home, she found a note from Aleta on the kitchen table. Davis was flying her to Vegas overnight. She would be back Monday afternoon, she said. She'd left Corrine's dinner in the fridge. Corrine smiled at that. Aleta, jetting off to Sin City with her rich lover who just happened to be her husband—but remembering to fix dinner for Corrine first.
Matt rang the doorbell at nine. She called, as always, "Come on in!" He paused in the doorway to the living room. They nodded at each other. Then he carried their sleeping daughter up the stairs and tucked her in bed. Just like every Sunday.
Except it wasn't. Since last Sunday, everything had changed.
He came back down. She was sitting on the couch, wearing old sweats and a purple velour hoodie she'd had before Kira was born, her knees drawn up under her chin—just like last Sunday.
Only not.
He came into the living room, tossed his jacket on the chair he'd sat in the Sunday before and went to stand with his back to the fire. She resisted the urge to turn away, to avoid meeting those cloud-gray eyes of his. Instead, she looked at him levelly, a no-nonsense glance that somehow turned hot.
And hungry.
Energy arced between them. That special, intimate kind of electricity that happens between two people who want each other, bad. Never once had she and Bob exchanged such a glance. That probably should have been a serious red flag for her. But no. It had taken a drunken night of great sex in Matt's arms for her to get with the reality that she and Bob were not going to happen.
"Where's Mom?" he asked roughly, his gaze locked tight with hers, caressing her without laying a finger on her.
What was it about him that did it for her, that could weaken her knees and turn a definite no to an eager yes? He was handsome and fit, yeah. But lots of guys were well-built and good-looking. And really, he was kind of stuffy when you came right down to it. Before him, she'd gone for the bad-boy, dangerous types. And after him…?
It hurt her pride to admit it. After all, she had her wild girl rep to maintain. But there hadn't been anyone after him. Not until sweet, understanding Bob, who didn't believe in sex before marriage.
"Corrie?" His brows had drawn together in a frown.
She knew she'd gone too long without answering. "Sorry. Just thinking."
A knowing smile tipped one corner of that mouth she wanted way too much to kiss. "Thinking about what?"
She ignored that question and answered the one he'd asked before it. "Your mom went to Vegas overnight. With your dad."
He made a low sound of disbelief. "You're joking."
"Nope. I came home from work Saturday, late, and his car was in the driveway."
"So they're reconciling?"
"It's starting to look likely."
"But she's still staying with you?"
"For the time being anyway. She's not completely sure about what she wants to do. They're dating."
He let out a bark of surprised laughter. "My mother and father. Dating."
"That's right."
"Too weird."
"Gotta agree with you there."
He seemed to be studying her. "Maybe that's what we need."
She felt instantly suspicious. "To date, me and you?"
"Yeah. To date. Me and you."
She waved a hand. "You're just trying to get me in bed."
He left the fire then and approached her. Slowly. With caution and also with clear purpose. "Yeah," he said in that low, rough voice that sent her senses spinning. "I am, absolutely, trying to get you into bed." He bent at the waist and put his big, strong hands on the back of the couch, one on either side of her. "I thought I made that pretty damn clear yesterday morning." He smelled so clean and masculine. His irises looked silvery this close up. Silver ringed with blue and rayed with golden-brown.
For almost five years, she'd had herself convinced she was over him, that they were friends. Good friends. Best friends. And then last Sunday came along and blew that lie wide open.
She was kind of mad at him about that, really. Hadn't he done enough six years ago, setting her whole world on its ear the way he had? Did he have to do it all over again?
"Matt…" His name came out of her mouth on a yearning sigh. She forgot whatever she'd meant to say. Probably no or m
aybe stop.
But then he bent closer and he was kissing her and words like no and stop didn't even exist anymore. He sank down to the couch beside her and gathered her into his big, strong arms.
She kissed him back. With eagerness and longing. She let her hands roam over his muscled shoulders and up into the close-cropped hair at his nape. It felt so good. Too good to be all wrapped up in his arms. Again. It seemed like forever since she'd felt his lips on hers.
But then he eased his hand up under the purple hoodie and captured her breast. A bolt of hot lightning speared through her. She moaned into his mouth.
And then she remembered to act like she had a brain. She grabbed his hard shoulders and pushed him back, demanding flatly, "Got condoms?"
"In my pocket."
Damn. "So much for that excuse."
He touched the side of her face, a tender caress that made her almost feel sorry for pushing him away. "You're killing me, you know that?"
She steeled her resolve, not sure why she didn't just surrender to the inevitable. Except that, along with the burning desire she felt for him, there was resentment. And disappointment at herself, to be giving her body and her senses into his hands all over again. You'd think she would have learned her lesson the first time. "Buck up. You'll live."
An answering spark of anger flashed in his eyes. And then he let her go and slid away to the other end of the couch. "All right. I'm over here. You're over there. Is that what you wanted?"
It wasn't, not really. "Sorry. I'm feeling a little…conflicted, I guess."
"Maybe more than a little." His voice had gentled, too.
"Yeah. All right. Maybe so."
He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his spread knees and tipped his head to the side to look at her. His shirt clung lovingly to the strong muscles of his back. She longed to reach out, touch him, pull him close again.
Conflicted. For sure.
He asked, "What time does Mom get back tomorrow?"
"The note she left said in the afternoon."
"Great. Tomorrow the Rose is closed. You don't have to work. And Mom can watch Kira."
"Why?"
"Suddenly you've become the most suspicious damn woman in Texas."
"Why?"
"We're going out to dinner, you and me."
Okay, that sounded kind of wonderful. Just the two of them, in a nice restaurant, a place with white tablecloths and real napkins. And maybe a bud vase with a single rose. And candles. Dinner was so romantic by candlelight.
She remembered she was still conflicted. "Now you're giving me instructions."
"Yeah, I am. We're going someplace really expensive. Because I'm rich and money is no object."
She sighed. "Well, okay. You are tempting me."
"That was the idea. I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something low-cut and sexy. At least let me look if I'm not allowed to touch."
Chapter Five
Matt had a plan. He thought it was a really excellent plan. True, it scared the crap out of him.
But he thought it was the right plan. The plan he knew Corrie wanted, deep in her heart. The plan that was best for everyone concerned.
When he got to her house Monday evening, his mom answered the door. "Matthew. Hello. Don't you look handsome?" She leaned forward and presented her cheek. He kissed it and she ushered him inside.
He asked, "So how was Vegas?"
"Wonderful." Her smile gave nothing away.
"How much did you lose?"
She clucked her tongue at him. "I always win." He thought she looked…different. More confident somehow. More sure of herself than in the past. Not that she'd lacked confidence before, exactly.
As he tried to understand the strange changes in his mother, his daughter came flying down the stairs with her arms out. "Daddy!" She launched herself at him and he caught her, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. "Hi!" She kissed him, loudly, on the cheek.
"How's my girl?"
The question was all the encouragement Kira needed. "The teacher put my picture of the pilgrims and the Native 'Mericans on the bulletin board."
"Excellent."
"There was corn and turkey in the picture. It was the first Thanksgiving, what I drew. The pilgrims' hats were hard to draw. But they turned out pretty good. Then we did alphabet games and we did adding. And we had recess, too. We always have recess. And cookies and milk. And naps."
"Sounds like a perfect day at school."
"And then I had my tap-dancing lesson. And then Gramma picked me up and we…Daddy." She put her two soft hands on either side of his face and steered it in her direction. "Listen to me, Daddy."
"I am, sweetheart." But he wasn't. Corrie was coming down the stairs. She wore a blue dress that clung to every curve. And her shining blond hair dipped over one eye, just the way he liked it best.
"Daddy…"
He gave Kira a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you had a great day."
"I did. It was a very nice day."
"Good. And I'm so proud of you." He eased her down to the floor again. By then, Corrie was right behind her.
Kira turned. "Mommy." She clapped her hands. "You look so pretty."
"Thank you, baby."
His mom said, "Kira, honey. Kiss your mommy goodbye. She and Daddy are going out to dinner."
Kira beamed. "I could go, too. We could go to Chuck E. Cheese's."
"You already ate, remember? Besides, it's an adult night," his mom explained.
"'Dolts? I like 'dolts."
All the 'dolts were careful not to laugh and his mom corrected her gently. "A-dults. That means grown-ups. And tonight, your mommy and daddy will be out past your bedtime."
Kira sagged in five-year-old disappointment. "Oh, pleeeeease. I really want to go…."
Matt offered, "Another time, sweetheart."
His daughter was nothing if not ready to bargain. "All of us? You and me and Mom and Gramma, too?"
"That's right. Maybe next Sunday."
"Sunday?" Kira moaned. "It's days and days until Sunday."
"Don't push it," he said and tried to sound stern.
Kira was a smart kid. She knew when to give it up. "Oh, all right. Next Sunday. We can have a deal." She offered her hand. Matt took it and gave it a shake. Then she reached up her arms to Corrie and kissed her cheek as loudly as she'd kissed his.
"'Night," said his mom. "Come on, honey." She steered Kira into the living room.
Corrie got her coat from the closet by the door and he helped her into it, bending closer than he needed to, letting the scent of her hair tempt him and the warmth of her skin make him long to turn her around and wrap his arms around her.
He restrained himself, remembering the night before when she'd pushed him away for moving too fast. Later. After a decent steak and a little wine. After he executed his excellent plan.
She grabbed a small, sparkly purse off the chair by the door and they were out of there.
He took her to the best steak house in town, a two-story place in a converted silo. The bar was on the ground floor and the restaurant upstairs. The maitre d' took Corrie's coat and then led them up the curving stairs to their table, which was covered with snowy linen and set with fat white candles in crystal bowls. Corrie looked beautiful by candlelight, her blue eyes shining like sapphires, her skin creamy pink.
He ordered a nice bottle of wine and they chose an appetizer and, for the main course, filet mignon.
Once the waiter had poured the wine and left them alone, Corrie let out a contented sigh. "Matt. I hardly believe this. Seven-thirty on a weeknight and you're not working."
He gave a wry nod. "Yeah, okay. I admit it. I've been pretty much a workaholic."
Her expression got softer. He thought about rising enough to lean across the table and claim her mouth in a kiss—but no, he reminded himself. Not yet.
Not yet…
She said, "I wasn't complaining. You always saved the weekends for Kira. And that's what ma
tters—though I have wondered how you made time for Tabby…."
"Can we forget Tabby? Please?"
She laughed, a low, husky sound. "When you say please like that, you remind me of Kira, begging to go to Chuck E. Cheese's."
He grunted. "Is that good?"
Christmas at Bravo Ridge Page 6