Endless Summer

by Nora Roberts

  “Well, it doesn’t look like Lee’s settled for a dull life,” Bryan commented.

  Shade reached down and hauled her to her feet. He’d been frightened, he realized. Seriously frightened for the first time in years, and all because a little girl’s pet had knocked down his partner.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” With quick swipes, she began to brush the dirt off her jeans. Shade ran his hands up her arms, stopping her cold.

  “Sure?”

  “Yes, I…” She trailed off as her thoughts twisted into something incoherent. He wasn’t supposed to look at her like that, she thought. As though he really cared. She wished he’d look at her like that again, and again. His fingers were barely touching her arms. She wished he’d touch her like that again. And again.

  “I’m fine,” she managed finally. But it was hardly more than a whisper, and her eyes never left his.

  He kept his hands on her arms. “That dog had to weigh a hundred and twenty.”

  “He didn’t mean any harm.” Why, she wondered vaguely, were they talking about a dog, when there really wasn’t anything important but him and her?

  “I’m sorry.” His thumb skimmed over the inside of her elbow, where the skin was as soft as he’d once imagined. Her pulse beat like an engine. “I should’ve gotten out first instead of playing around.” If she’d been hurt… He wanted to kiss her now, right now, when he was thinking only of her and not the reasons that he shouldn’t.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured, and found that her hands were resting on his shoulders. Their bodies were close, just brushing. Who had moved? “It doesn’t matter,” she said again, half to herself, as she leaned closer. Their lips hovered, hesitated, then barely touched. From the house came the deep, frantic sound of barking. They drew back from each other with something close to a jerk.

  “Bryan!” Lee let the door slam behind her as she came onto the porch. It wasn’t until she’d already called out that she noticed how intent the two people in her driveway were on each other.

  With a quick shudder, Bryan took another step back before she turned. Too many feelings, was all she could think. Too many feelings, too quickly.

  “Lee.” She ran over, or ran away—she wasn’t certain. All she knew was, at that moment she needed someone. Grateful, she felt herself closed in Lee’s arms. “Oh, God, it’s so good to see you.”

  The greeting was just a little desperate. Lee took a long look over Bryan’s shoulder at the man who remained several paces back. Her first impression was that he wanted to stay that way. Separate. What had Bryan gotten herself into? she wondered, and gave her friend a fierce hug.

  “I’ve got to look at you,” Bryan insisted, laughing now as the tension drained. The elegant face, the carefully styled hair—they were the same. But the woman wasn’t. Bryan could feel it before she glanced down to the rounded swell beneath Lee’s crisp summer dress.

  “You’re happy.” Bryan gripped Lee’s hands. “It shows. No regrets?”

  “No regrets.” Lee took a long, hard study. Bryan looked the same, she decided. Healthy, easy, lovely in a way that seemed exclusively her own. The same, she thought, but for the slightest hint of trouble in her eyes. “And you?”

  “Things are good. I’ve missed you, but I feel better about it after seeing you here.”

  With a laugh, Lee slipped her arm around Bryan’s waist. If there was trouble, she’d find the source. Bryan was hopeless at hiding anything for long. “Come inside. Sarah and Hunter are making iced tea.” She sent a significant look in Shade’s direction and felt Bryan tense. Just a little, but Lee felt it and knew she’d already found the source.

  Bryan cleared her throat. “Shade.”

  He moved forward, Lee thought, like a man who was used to testing the way.

  “Lee Radcliffe—Lee Radcliffe Brown,” Bryan corrected, and relaxed a bit. “Shade Colby. You remember when I spent the money I’d saved for a new car on one of his prints.”

  “Yes, I told you you were crazy.” Lee extended her hand and smiled, but her voice was cool. “It’s nice to meet you. Bryan’s always admired your work.”

  “But you haven’t,” he returned, with more interest and respect than he’d intended to feel.

  “I often find it harsh, but always compelling,” Lee said simply. “Bryan’s the expert, not me.”

  “Then she’d tell you that we don’t take pictures for experts.”

  Lee nodded. His handshake had been firm—not gentle, but far from cruel. His eyes were precisely the same. She’d have to reserve judgment for now. “Come inside, Mr. Colby.”

  He’d intended to simply drop Bryan off and move along, but he found himself accepting. It wouldn’t hurt, he rationalized, to cool off a bit before he drove into town. He followed the women inside.

  “Dad, if you don’t put more sugar in it, it tastes terrible.”

  As they walked into the kitchen, they saw Sarah with her hands on her hips, watching her father mop up around a pitcher of tea.

  “Not everyone wants to pour sugar into their system the way you do.”

  “I do.” Bryan grinned when Hunter turned. She thought his work brilliant—often cursing him for it in the middle of the night, when it kept her awake. She thought he looked like a man one of the Brontë sisters would have written about—strong, dark, brooding. But more, he was the man who loved her closest friend. Bryan opened her arms to him.

  “It’s good to see you again.” Hunter held her close, chuckling when he felt her reach behind him to the plate of cookies Sarah had set out. “Why don’t you gain weight?”

  “I keep trying,” Bryan claimed, and bit into the chocolate chip cookie. “Mmm, still warm. Hunter, this is Shade Colby.”

  Hunter put down his dishcloth. “I’ve followed your work,” he told Shade as they shook hands. “It’s powerful.”

  “That’s the word I’d use to describe yours.”

  “Your latest had me too paranoid to go down to the basement laundry room for weeks,” Bryan accused Hunter. “I nearly ran out of clothes.”

  Hunter grinned, pleased. “Thanks.”

  She glanced around the sunlit kitchen. “I guess I expected your house to have cobwebs and creaking boards.”

  “Disappointed?” Lee asked.

  “Relieved.”

  With a laugh, Lee settled at the kitchen table with Sarah on her left and Bryan across from her. “So how’s the project going?”

  “Good.” But Lee noticed she didn’t look at Shade as she spoke. “Maybe terrific. We’ll know more once we develop the film. We’ve made arrangements with one of the local papers for the use of a darkroom. All we have to do is drive into Sedona, check in and get a couple of rooms. Tomorrow, we work.”

  “Rooms?” Lee set down the glass Hunter handed her. “But you’re staying here.”

  “Lee.” Bryan gave Hunter a quick smile as he offered the plate of cookies. “I wanted to see you, not drop in bag and baggage. I know both you and Hunter are working on new books. Shade and I’ll be up to our ears in developing fluid.”

  “How are we supposed to visit if you’re in Sedona?” Lee countered. “Damn it, Bryan, I’ve missed you. You’re staying here.” She laid a hand on her rounded stomach. “Pregnant women have to be pampered.”

  “You should stay,” Shade put in before Bryan could comment. “It might be the last chance for quite a while for a little free time.”

  “We’ve a lot of work to do,” Bryan reminded him.

  “It’s a short drive into town from here. That won’t make any difference. We’re going to need to rent a car, in any case, so we can both be mobile.”

  Hunter studied the man across the room. Tense, he thought. Intense. Not the sort of man he’d have picked for the free-rolling, slow-moving Bryan, but it wasn’t his place to judge. It was his place, and his talent, to observe. What was between them was obvious to see. Their reluctance to accept it was just as obvious. Calmly, he picked up his tea and drank.

&n
bsp; “The invitation applies to both of you.”

  Shade glanced over with an automatic polite refusal on the tip of his tongue. His eyes met Hunter’s. They were both intense, internalized men. Perhaps that’s why they understood each other so quickly.

  I’ve been there before, Hunter seemed to say to him with a hint of a smile. You can run fast but only so far.

  Shade sensed something of the understanding, and something of the challenge. He glanced down to see Bryan giving him a long, cool look.

  “I’d love to stay,” he heard himself say. Shade crossed to the table and sat.

  * * *

  Lee looked over the prints in her precise, deliberate way. Bryan paced up and down the terrace, ready to explode.

  “Well?” she demanded. “What do you think?”

  “I haven’t finished looking through them yet.”

  Bryan opened her mouth, then shut it again. It wasn’t like her to be nervous over her work. She knew the prints were good. Hadn’t she put her sweat and her heart into each of them?

  More than good, she told herself as she yanked a chocolate bar out of her pocket. These prints ranked with her best work. It might’ve been the competition with Shade that had pushed her to produce them. It might’ve been the need to feel a bit smug after some of the comments he’d made on her particular style of work. Bryan didn’t like to think she was base enough to resort to petty rivalry, but she had to admit that now she was. And she wanted to win.

  She and Shade had lived in the same house, worked in the same darkroom for days, but had managed to see almost nothing of each other. A neat trick, Bryan thought ruefully. Perhaps it had worked so well because they’d both played the same game. Hide and don’t seek. Tomorrow they’d be back on the road.

  Bryan found that she was anxious to go even while she dreaded it. And she wasn’t a contrary person, Bryan reminded herself almost fiercely. She was basically straightforward and…well, yes, she was amiable. It was simply her nature to be. So why wasn’t she with Shade?

  “Well.”

  Bryan whirled around as Lee spoke. “Well?” she echoed, waiting.

  “I’ve always admired your work, Bryan. You know that.” In her tidy way, Lee folded her hands on the wrought-iron table.

  “But?” Bryan prompted.

  “But these are the best.” Lee smiled. “The very best you’ve ever done.”

  Bryan let out the breath she’d been holding and crossed to the table. Nerves? Yes, she had them. She didn’t care for them. “Why?”

  “I’m sure there’re a lot of technical reasons—the light and the shading, the cropping.”

  Impatiently, Bryan shook her head. “Why?”

  Understanding, Lee chose a print. “This one of the old woman and the little girl on the beach. Maybe it’s my condition,” she said slowly as she studied it again, “but it makes me think of the child I’ll have. It also makes me remember I’ll grow old, but not too old to dream. This picture’s powerful because it’s so basically simple, so straightforward and so incredibly full of emotion. And this one…”

  She shuffled the prints until she came to the one of the road worker. “Sweat, determination, honesty. You know when you look at this face that the man believes in hard work and paying his bills on time. And here, these teenagers. I see youth just before those inevitable changes of adulthood. And this dog.” Lee laughed as she looked at it. “The first time I looked, it just struck me as cute and funny, but he looks so proud, so, well, human. You could almost believe the boat was his.”

  While Bryan remained silent, Lee tidied the prints again. “I could go over each one of them with you, but the point is, each one of them tells a story. It’s only one scene, one instant of time, yet the story’s there. The feelings are there. Isn’t that the purpose?”

  “Yes.” Bryan smiled as her shoulders relaxed. “That’s the purpose.”

  “If Shade’s pictures are half as good, you’ll have a wonderful essay.”

  “They will be,” Bryan murmured. “I saw some of his negatives in the darkroom. They’re incredible.”

  Lee lifted a brow and watched Bryan devour chocolate. “Does that bother you?”

  “What? Oh, no, no, of course not. His work is his work—and in this case it’ll be part of mine. I’d never have agreed to work with him if I hadn’t admired him.”

  “But?” This time Lee prompted with a raised brow and half smile.

  “I don’t know, Lee, he’s just so—so perfect.”

  “Really?”

  “He never fumbles,” Bryan complained. “He always knows exactly what he wants. When he wakes up in the morning, he’s perfectly coherent, he never misses a turn on the road. He even makes decent coffee.”

  “Anyone would detest him for that,” Lee said dryly.

  “It’s frustrating, that’s all.”

  “Love often is. You are in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Genuinely surprised, Bryan stared over at Lee. “Good God, I hope I’ve more sense than that. I have to work hard at even liking him.”

  “Bryan, you’re my friend. Otherwise what I’m calling concern would be called prying.”

  “Which means you’re going to pry,” Bryan put in.

  “Exactly. I’ve seen the way the two of you tiptoe around each other as if you’re terrified that if you happened to brush up against each other there’d be spontaneous combustion.”

  “Something like that.”

  Lee reached out and touched her hand. “Bryan, tell me.”

  Evasions weren’t possible. Bryan looked down at the joined hands and sighed. “I’m attracted,” she admitted slowly. “He’s different from anyone I’ve known, mostly because he’s just not the type of man I’d normally socialize with. He’s very remote, very serious. I like to have fun. Just fun.”

  “Relationships have to be made up of more than just fun.”

  “I’m not looking for a relationship.” On this point she was perfectly clear. “I date so I can go dancing, go to a party, listen to music or see a movie. That’s it. The last thing I want is all the tension and work that goes into a relationship.”

  “If someone didn’t know you, they’d say that was a pretty shallow sentiment.”

  “Maybe it is,” Bryan tossed back. “Maybe I am.”

  Lee said nothing, just tapped a finger on the prints.

  “That’s my work,” Bryan began, then gave up. A lot of people might take what she said at face value, not Lee. “I don’t want a relationship,” she repeated, but in a quieter tone. “Lee, I’ve been there before, and I’m lousy at it.”

  “Relationship equals two,” Lee pointed out. “Are you still taking the blame?”

  “Most of the blame was mine. I was no good at being a wife.”

  “At being a certain kind of wife,” Lee corrected.

  “I imagine there’s only a handful of definitions in the dictionary.”

  Lee only raised a brow. “Sarah has a friend whose mother is wonderful. She keeps not just a clean house, but an interesting one. She makes jelly, takes the minutes at the P.T.A. and runs a Girl Scout troop. The woman can take colored paper and some glue and create a work of art. She’s lovely and helps herself stay that way with exercise classes three times a week. I admire her a great deal, but if Hunter had wanted those things from me, I wouldn’t have his ring on my finger.”

  “Hunter’s special,” Bryan murmured.

  “I can’t argue with that. And you know why I nearly ruined it with him—because I was afraid I’d fail at building and maintaining a relationship.”

  “It’s not a matter of being afraid.” Bryan shrugged her shoulders. “It’s more a matter of not having the energy for it.”

  “Remember who you’re talking to,” Lee said mildly.

  With a half laugh, Bryan shook her head. “All right, maybe it’s a matter of being cautious. Relationship’s a very weighty word. Affair’s lighter,” she said consideringly. “But an affair with a man like Shade’s bo
und to have tremendous repercussions.”

  That sounded so cool, Bryan mused. When had she started to think in such logical terms? “He’s not an easy man, Lee. He has his own demons and his own way of dealing with them. I don’t know whether he’d share them with me, or if I’d want him to.”

  “He works at being cold,” Lee commented. “But I’ve seen him with Sarah. I admit the basic kindness in him surprised me, but it’s there.”

  “It’s there,” Bryan agreed. “It’s just hard to get to.”

  “Dinner’s ready!” Sarah yanked open the screen door and let it hit the wall with a bang. “Shade and I made spaghetti, and it’s terrific.”

  It was. During the meal, Bryan watched Shade. Like Lee, she’d noticed his easy relationship with Sarah. It was more than tolerance, she decided as she watched him laugh with the girl. It was affection. It hadn’t occurred to her that Shade could give his affection so quickly or with so few restrictions.

  Maybe I should be a twelve-year-old with braces, she decided, then shook her head at her own thought pattern. She didn’t want Shade’s affection. His respect, yes.

  It wasn’t until after dinner that she realized she was wrong. She wanted a great deal more.

  It was the last leisurely evening before the group separated. On the front porch they watched the first stars come out and listened to the first night sounds begin. By that time the next evening, Shade and Bryan would be in Colorado.

  Lee and Hunter sat on the porch swing with Sarah nestled between them. Shade stretched out in a chair just to the side, relaxed, a little tired, and mentally satisfied after his long hours in the darkroom. Still, as he sat talking easily to the Browns, he realized that he’d needed this visit as much as, perhaps more than, Bryan.

  He’d had a simple childhood. Until these past days, he’d nearly forgotten just how simple, and just how solid. The things that had happened to him as an adult had blocked a great deal of it out. Now, without consciously realizing it, Shade was drawing some of it back.

  Bryan sat on the first step, leaning back against a post. She joined in the conversation or distanced herself from it as she chose. There was nothing important being said, and the easiness of the conversation made the scene that much more appealing. A moth battered itself against the porch light, crickets called, and the breeze rippled through the full leaves of the surrounding trees. The sounds made a soothing conversation of their own.