“Exactly. A trophy wife is younger, prettier, blonder. Now that Nelson is successful, he wants someone new to share that with. I’m surprised you’re not familiar with the phenomenon. It’s very prevalent in the suburbs.”
“I’ve never been in the suburbs before.”
“You’re in for a treat. It’s a different world here. One of four-door cars and families. This is the American dream in progress.” Her eyes brightened with humor. “I sometimes think I’m the ultimate cliché.” She shifted on the bed and sat cross-legged. It made his knees hurt just to look at her. She held up one hand and began counting off on her fingers. “I’m divorced, and I was left for a younger woman. I’m a teacher, a traditionally female profession. I live in a bedroom community, I drive a minivan, I use coupons and I have two-point-four children.”
He folded his arms over his chest and grinned. “Let me guess. The point-four child is Shelby, Allison’s imaginary friend.”
“You’ve met?”
“She’s met me. I wasn’t sure where she was standing.”
Their gazes locked. Something leaped between them. Something hot and alive—like electricity. Mike felt warm all over, even though he was practically naked under the sheet. His skin prickled and he had the strangest sensation of taking a step off a bridge, or a building. Only this time, instead of falling, he was suspended there.
Cindy’s green eyes darkened as her pupils dilated. Her breathing increased. He could hear the rapid cadence in the silent room. His blood quickened and he felt the second flickering spark of desire around her.
Then, as if someone had snapped his fingers to break the spell, it was gone. They both looked away. Mike didn’t know if Cindy was feeling the same sense of loss, but he noticed a splotch of color on each of her cheeks.
She cleared her throat. “The only difference between me and most women in my situation is that I got to keep the house. Aunt Bertha, bless her heart, died and left me enough money to pay down the mortgage, pay off Nelson and refinance. You can’t keep a place this big on a teacher’s salary.”
He didn’t know what to say, so he blurted out the first thing that came to him. “Why did you marry someone named Nelson?”
She laughed. “It’s a question I’ve asked myself again and again.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “He wasn’t much of a husband. Good riddance.”
He tried to remember the last time he talked with a woman. Just talked. Not as a prelude to sex, or because they were working together. Except for his phone calls with Grace, he didn’t know that he ever had.
“What about you?” she asked. “Ever married?”
“What makes you think I’m not now?”
“Because you would have gone home to her instead of coming to Grace’s.”
“Good point. No, I’ve never been married.” It wasn’t his style. He didn’t believe in getting that close.
“And you’ve always lived in the city?”
He nodded. “I had a place in New York for a while, then I got a lot of work in Los Angeles. I kept an apartment there until it was damaged by the earthquake a couple years back. Since then I’ve been working steadily and haven’t found anywhere I liked.”
She stood up. He couldn’t help watching the graceful way she unfolded her legs. He’d dated a couple of models while he was in New York, but he didn’t like their bony torsos and straight legs. Cindy’s calves and thighs curved as if trying to lead a man astray while tempting him to paradise. He grimaced. He was thinking some strange thoughts. Maybe he’d fallen on his head harder than he’d realized.
“You live a very odd life, Mike Blackburne. You’re about to get a crash course on how the other half lives,” she said. “Welcome to the world of children and Middle America.”
A car honked. She walked to the door and yelled, “Allison, Jonathan, your ride is here.”
The two children ran down the stairs and over to her. She bent down and kissed them both. “Be good.”
They called back that they would, raced across the floor, then slammed the door shut behind them. Cindy drew in a breath. “Ah, blissful silence. You hungry?”
At her question, his stomach rumbled. “I guess so,” he said.
“I’ll make you some soup.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Think you can manage to get to the rest room on your own?”
He eyed the door. “Yeah.”
“I have chicken soup with round noodles, noodles shaped like dinosaurs and alphabet noodles.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Obviously you’ve never had to feed children.”
“I guess not. You don’t have any plain flat noodles?”
“Sorry. They’re not exciting enough.”
She was right. He had entered a strange and different world. “Surprise me.”
* * *
Cindy set the soup bowl on the tray, shifted the water glass over and stared at the crackers. Dry toast might be better. She hesitated for a moment, then figured the man was unlikely to finish what she’d brought him, as it was. She picked up the tray and headed for the bedroom.
Mike was back in bed but sitting up this time with the sheets and blanket bunched around his waist. His hair had been brushed, although he still needed a shave.
“You look pale,” she said.
“I just about had to crawl on the return trip but it was worth it.” He pointed to the bowl. “What did you decide?”
“Dinosaurs. I thought they would make you big and strong.”
The look he shot her told her he wasn’t sure if he believed her or not. She bit back a grin. Better for her if she kept him a little off-balance. Having Mike Blackburne in her house wasn’t doing much for her equilibrium.
She settled the tray over his lap. The wooden legs held it up off his thighs. “Would you rather have juice than water? I didn’t think coffee would be a good idea. You need sleep more than anything, and I don’t have any decaf.”
“I don’t drink decaf,” he said, picking up a spoon. “The taste of coffee is bad enough, but at least it has caffeine. If it doesn’t keep you up, why bother? Water is fine.”
He dipped his spoon into the bowl, then stared at the miniature pasta dinosaurs floating in the chicken broth. After a shrug, as if to say “What the hell,” he downed a mouthful.
“Tastes the same,” he admitted.
“What did you expect?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe little crunchy bones?”
She smiled. “Tomorrow, when you’re stronger.”
While he ate, she moved around the room, opening the drapes, then smoothing the folded comforter at the foot of the bed. Anything to keep from staring at Mike. It had been easy to take care of him while he was only semiconscious. She’d awakened him enough to get him to swallow his pills and make him drink water, but they hadn’t actually spoken before. Sleeping, he’d been good-looking. Awake, he was sinfully handsome and dangerously intriguing.
In an odd way, he reminded her of Nelson. The statistics were the same. Both men had brown hair and brown eyes, and were six feet two inches tall. However, that’s where the similarity ended. Nelson’s face was ordinary. Glasses hid his eyes, which were his best feature. Her ex-husband was pale, slightly flabby, at least he had been the last time she’d seen him naked, and had the beginnings of a bald spot on the top of his head. His chest was furry to the point of making her wonder if his family tree held the evolutionary missing link.
Mike was broad and strong, tanned with rippling muscles that made her wish he never had to put a shirt on again. His smooth skin made her fingers tingle and her palms itch. He had a strong nose and a square chin. He could have used a couple more inches of hair—she wasn’t fond of the military cropped cut—but what was there was thick enough to make him the star of a shampoo commercial. Altogether, he was an impressive male specimen and she didn’t know what on earth she was going to do with him. Fortunately, except for helping him get well, nothing was required.
“I unpacked a few of your things,” she said
, pulling open the top drawer of her dresser and taking out shorts and a T-shirt. “I thought you might like to get dressed.”
“That would be great. Maybe later.”
When she turned around to look at him, he’d already set the spoon down and was leaning against the pillows. He’d finished all the soup and two of the crackers.
“Do you want some more?” she asked.
“No. I’m weaker than I thought.”
“You’ve been through a lot. What with being shot and all.”
He rubbed his chin and grimaced. “You got this funny look on your face when you said that.”
“Said what?”
“Shot.”
“Not many people around here have much experience with that. We don’t get a lot of terrorist activity in the suburbs.”
“It’s not a lot of fun.”
“You’ve got painkillers,” she said, walking toward one of the duffel bags. “Do you want one? And please, don’t try to be macho and impress me. I’ve got children, I’m immune.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She dug around for the pills, then shook one out onto her palm. “You know, I find it fascinating that you travel with so little luggage. Do you have things in storage somewhere?”
He took the pill from her and downed it with a single gulp of water. After wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he shook his head. “No furniture or anything. I have my work clothes. Suits, shirts, that sort of thing. I dropped them off at a cleaners in L.A. and he keeps them until my next job. But I don’t need a whole lot.”
“You’re just like my dad. He traveled light, too. If something was too much of a bother, he didn’t want it around. It was one of the reasons we never had a dog.” She leaned against the footboard post and folded her arms over her chest. She knew men like Mike traveled light emotionally as well as physically. “One day his family got to be too much bother, so he left us behind, too.”
Mike grimaced. “That’s one of the reasons I never married. In my line of work, it’s a mistake.”
“You never wanted a home life? Something stable, something of your own?”
“Nope.” His brown eyes held hers. “Not my style.”
In her heart, she knew exactly what Mike’s style would be. He had the looks to turn any woman’s head. He would seduce her easily, then move on. He seemed nice enough to issue a warning first, but women too often believed they could change a man, maybe even make him want to stay. Cindy knew better.
“My stepfather was just like my dad,” she said. “I guess my mom was attracted to the type.”
“Where did that leave you?”
“Alone.”
“Is that why you’re a teacher with two-point-four children?”
“I guess so. I wanted them to have what I never had. A stable home life. Two parents who really cared about them. I was determined to marry someone sensible. Unfortunately, I picked Nelson.” She moved closer to him and reached for the tray.
“Better luck next time,” he said.
“Right.” Next time she was going to do the leaving so it wouldn’t hurt so much. “You’re looking pretty tired. Why don’t you try and get some rest?”
Mike shook his head. “I was going to tell you I’m fine, but I can’t keep my eyes open. I appreciate this, Cindy. I’ll get out of here tomorrow.”
“Don’t be foolish.” She started walking toward the door. “According to your doctor, you’re going to be here for at least another week. You haven’t been any trouble. Besides, it’s summer vacation. Having you around keeps the kids from being bored.”
She turned back to him. Mike was sprawled out on the pillow, already asleep. A short lock of hair fell over his forehead. His tanned torso contrasted with her pale sheets. The bed and linens had been purchased since the divorce, so Mike was the first male to sleep there.
“Ah, Cindy, you live a wild life,” she told herself as she walked into the kitchen. “What would the neighbors think if they knew you had a nearly naked man in your bedroom in the middle of the day?”
The way her luck with men ran, Mike was about as good as it was going to get. She was fooling herself when she said she planned to be the one leaving next time. There wasn’t going to be a next time. It was so much easier not to get involved at all.
Chapter Three
Cindy looked up when she heard the knock on her back door. Beth waved and turned the knob.
“I came by to say hi,” Beth said.
“Sure you did.” Cindy added the flour mixture into the wet ingredients and stirred. “You wouldn’t be the least bit interested in how Mike is getting along.”
Beth stuck her finger in the bowl and scooped out a taste. She licked off the batter. “You make the best peanut butter cookies on the block. You must be adding something I don’t know about. And you have to admit, life is certainly more interesting since your young man came to stay with you.”
“He’s not a young man, he’s close to forty. He’s also not mine. And to answer the question I see burning in your eyes, yes, last time I checked he was asleep.”
Beth grinned. “Oh, goody!” She slipped off her sandals and walked quietly across the floor. “Yesterday he had his sheet all bunched up around his waist. Do you think it’s still like that?”
Cindy rolled her eyes. “Beth, he’s been up and sort of staggering around since then. I doubt he’s in exactly the same pose. While we’re on the subject, I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate knowing you come to look at him like he’s some animal on exhibit at the zoo.”
“Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud. How often does a handsome man just fall into our lives? We must take advantage of the situation. Strike while the iron’s hot. Seize the day. Begin as—”
“How many more clichés?”
Beth grinned again. “You don’t appreciate me, Cindy. And you should. I’m not just a good friend, I’m highly entertaining.” She tossed her head, sending her spiked bangs dancing across her forehead, then turned and headed for the bedroom.
It was several minutes before she returned. Cindy had already filled two cookie sheets and stuck them in the oven. She was filling a third when she heard an exaggerated sigh.
“He’s incredibly gorgeous.”
She glanced up and saw Beth leaning against the doorway to the dining room. She had a hand pressed against her chest. “I swear I got palpitations just looking at him. Feel.”
“Thank you, I’d rather not.”
Beth walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “My Lord, how do you stand it? He’s just lying there, naked.”
“He’s not naked.”
Eyebrows nearly as red as her hair raised slightly. “How would you know?”
“I put out clean underwear every morning, and it disappears.”
“How disappointing.” Beth leaned back in the chair and sighed once more. “Still, it’s just you and him alone. Night after night.”
“The kids are here,” she reminded her friend. “You’re trying to make this into something it’s not. Mike is Grace’s brother. I’m doing this for her, not him. As for him being attractive...” Beth looked at her. Cindy held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, I’ll admit he’s pretty good-looking.”
“Good-looking? The man could jump-start a person in a coma.”
“Beth!”
“Well, he could! I just wish he’d wake up so I could see his eyes. What color are they?”
“Brown.”
“Oh.”
Cindy looked up from the cookie batter. “You sound disappointed.”
“I was hoping for something more exciting. Gray maybe, or a nice—” She broke off and frowned. “You know, there aren’t many colors for eyes to be, are there? Okay, brown.”
The timer on the oven beeped. Beth stood up. Like Cindy, she was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. The Houston summer heat required a minimum of clothing, even in the air-conditioned house.
Beth grabbed the pot holders resting on the counter an
d took the baked cookies out of the oven. She set them on the cooling racks on the edge of the island, then grabbed the filled pans Cindy had prepared.
Cindy smiled. This was one of the things she liked about where she lived. Being friends with her neighbors and sharing time with them. She, Beth and Grace had canned fruit together, baked pies and even prepared holiday dinners. They ran back and forth when ingredients were low, the days too long or something bad happened in their lives. Both women had been there for her when Nelson had walked out. She would never forget that.
Beth closed the oven, then tossed the pot holders on the counter next to the cooling cookie sheets. She grabbed a spatula, slipped a cookie off and picked it up. “Hot!” she said, bouncing it from hand to hand and blowing. When it was cool enough, she took a bite. Her eyes closed and she smiled. “Perfect.” She offered half to Cindy.
Cindy tasted the cookie and had to admit, she had a way with peanut butter. She took the glass of water Beth had filled and sipped. “I miss Grace,” she said.
“Tell me about it. I miss her, and I miss my kids.” Beth returned to the kitchen table and sat down. “I know, I know. I’m the one who couldn’t wait for them to leave. They annoy the hell out of me. I mean, they’re practically teenagers. That’s their job. When they said they wanted to go to camp I was thrilled. But it’s only been a few days and the house is so quiet and boring.”
Cindy smiled. “I thought you and Darren were going to plan things for the two of you to do.”
“We are. It’s kind of fun, actually. But I still miss the kids. I guess this is what the empty nest is like. I’ll end up like those old women who keep their children’s rooms as shrines. Everything in its place.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Beth looked up and shook her finger. “Don’t try to trick me into changing the subject. How’s it going with Mike?”
Cindy thought about pretending ignorance, but there was no point. Beth was like a bulldog. Once she got hold of something, she never let go. “It’s not going anywhere. I don’t want it to go anywhere. He’s just a houseguest. Grace’s brother, nothing more.”
“He’s a single, good-looking guy.”
The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones Page 3