Neither did she.
As much as she wanted to call him, she just couldn’t. She must have picked up the phone a dozen times, but always slammed it back down.
She wasn’t sure why it was so hard to call him. She had the perfect excuse, to share the news about her mom. But she didn’t call, and neither did he.
Wednesday was a repeat performance. Look at the phone. Think about calling. Even go so far as to pick up the phone. Set it back down. Don’t call.
Thursday she didn’t pick up the phone at all. Oh, she thought about it, but since he hadn’t called her, she wasn’t about to call him.
She realized just how juvenile she was, but wasn’t able to stop herself. Something about Nate made her feel as if she was back in high school, giggling with girlfriends over boys.
Friday she woke up with a light heart. She and Nate were having dinner at his mom’s again tonight. She’d see him after school.
She practically danced through the day. Even Robbie Pembrooke, a student who could try the patience of a saint, couldn’t faze her happiness.
Of course, she did inform him that graffiti didn’t qualify as an art project…at least not in her class. She made him miss math—his favorite class—to clean his “project” off the side of the school and write a letter of apology to Mrs. Appleton, who, to the best of Shannon’s knowledge, did not, nor ever had had an affair with the janitor.
No, even Robbie Pembrooke couldn’t faze her good mood.
Shannon noticed that Robbie had stopped scrubbing and was simply standing in front of the wall.
“Robbie,” Shannon hollered.
He turned and said, “My arm’s killing me,” with that teenaged whine that would one day grow into a fine man-whine.
“Tough,” she said.
The boy turned back and started scrubbing again. And Shannon smiled.
“You look awfully happy,” her friend, Patricia, said, as she took a seat next to Shannon on the bench. “So, what’s up?”
“Maybe it’s just a happy sort of day. It is Friday, after all.”
Patricia shook her head. “I know a Friday-smile when I see one, and this is something more.”
“Well, it just so happens I have a date.”
She didn’t admit that it wasn’t exactly a date.
“Oooh, do tell. Does it involve candlelight and a new outfit?”
“Yes, to the new outfit.” Shannon had gone shopping yesterday and was pretty sure her outfit was going to scandalize Nathan’s mom.
Yes, one look at those pants and Mrs. Calder was going to be so scandalized she’d beg Nate to stop dating Roxy.
The thought should have made her feel victorious, but instead, she felt a bit let down.
“Yes, new clothes, but not candlelight. Just a quiet dinner. Not much to tell. Just me, on a date.”
“That’s it?” Patricia asked, sounding a bit skeptical.
“Yep.”
“Hmm,” Patricia said, studying her.
“Robbie, you missed a spot,” Shannon called, ignoring Patricia’s scrutiny. She smiled as Robbie grumbled, not because he grumbled, but because she was going to see Nate in just a few hours.
“So, how are the kids?” she asked. And even as she listened to Patricia talk about her kids, she couldn’t help but smile.
She’d see Nate tonight.
“OH, SHANNON, dear, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Calder said as they entered the house that evening.
Shannon didn’t have to ask just what it was Mrs. Calder was sorry for. There was a distinct smell of burnt—well, she wasn’t sure just what it was, but whatever it had been, it was charcoal now.
“I made the most lovely veal for dinner—”
Ah, veal, that’s what it was.
“—but there must be something wrong with my oven.”
“Or with your cooking,” Nate muttered low enough so that only Shannon caught it.
She stifled the laughter that bubbled just below the surface. She’d felt giddy since Nate had shown up on her doorstep. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt…looking positively good enough to eat.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Calder,” she assured Nathan’s mom. “Really.”
“No, dear, I promised you dinner and you’re getting dinner. Why, I don’t imagine you get to eat right at the club you work at. I think they’re more interested in drinking than good food. So, let’s go.”
“Go?” Shannon echoed, realizing that this burnt meal could be a problem.
A big problem.
“We’re going out to eat.” Mrs. Calder started to gather her purse.
“But…” Shannon looked down at tonight’s exotic-dancer outfit.
Tight pseudo-leather—pleather—pants, a bright-red blouse and stiletto black heels. Add to that that she’d slicked her hair back with goop and piled on the makeup, and she definitely didn’t want to go out in public looking like this.
“But…” she stammered.
Nate hadn’t said a word. She elbowed him hard and looked from him to her outfit, then back at him. She saw the dawning of understanding on his face.
“Mom, really, that’s okay,” he said in a rush. “We’ll come back to dinner tomorrow, and you can try again.”
“Ah, son, I know you love my cooking.”
Nate shot Shannon a look and she knew exactly what he was thinking…his mom was the worst cook alive.
“But, really darling,” Mrs. Calder continued. “I enjoy a night off now and then as well. So, let’s go.”
“Pizza,” Nate said. “Let’s just order in pizza.”
“Now, will you two stop fighting? We’re eating out. Paul,” she hollered.
Shannon didn’t have to be her child to realize that was that. Mrs. Calder wasn’t going to be dissuaded.
Mr. Calder ambled into the foyer. “Shannon. How nice to see you again. I assume you heard about our change of plans.”
Nate nodded. “Where do you want us to meet you?”
“I was hoping we could all ride together,” his mom said.
“You don’t like my motorcycle,” Nate accused.
“It’s not that…” his mom started, then shrugged. “Okay, it is that. I don’t like it. And if you were to crash on the way out to dinner, I’d never get over the guilt. You’d be maimed because I can’t cook. You don’t want to put your mother through something like that, do you? After all, you’re the only child I could have and the suffering I went through to get you…why, you couldn’t willingly subject me to any more, could you?”
“Mom, that’s ridiculous. I’m a grown man and—”
“We’d love to ride with you, Mrs. Calder,” Shannon interrupted.
“Thank you, dear, for understanding.”
“No problem.”
His parents walked out the door and toward the Calder’s blue sedan.
Nate hung back and held Shannon back as well. “Why did you do that?” he whispered.
“Because she worries about you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Not when it’s my mom doing the worrying,” he said, obviously put out. “But when it’s your mom, then it’s another story.”
“My mom doesn’t worry. She bosses. There’s a difference,” Shannon said.
“She bosses you around because she’s worried about you,” Nate countered.
“Since when did you become and expert on my mother?”
“Let’s just say that maybe I have a bit more objective insight than you do.”
“Let’s not and have you explain.”
“Just leave it alone, Shannon.”
“Are you two coming?” Nate’s mom called from the car. She paused and said, “Is something wrong?”
“No, of course not,” Shannon said as she shook her arm free of Nate and walked toward the car.
“Good,” she said with a smile. “Then we’re off.”
NATE POKED at his dinner salad as he listened to Shannon and his mother chatter away happily.
Shannon was making a me
ss of things again. His mother seemed to enjoy her as much tonight as she had last week. At the rate Shannon was going, he was going to be married off and the father of four.
Somehow the thought didn’t send the familiar jolt of terror down his spine. Not that he was thinking of marrying Shannon. But if he had to get married, she’d be number one on his list.
And thinking he’d even have a list of women he’d marry totally freaked him out and he kicked her leg under the table and shot her a get-on-with-it-already look.
He knew she caught the gist of his meaning because she winked at him and said, “I’ve been thinking about changing jobs.”
“Really, dear, that would be wonderful. Not that what you do for a living affects our opinion of you. After all, you’re such a sweet and caring young lady.”
“Why, thank you, Mrs. Calder.” Shannon smiled sweetly at the praise.
Of course, the loud red color she’d painted on her lips should have made smiling sweetly very difficult, but Shannon pulled it off.
“So what are you thinking about doing?” his mom asked.
“I’m going to—”
“Shannon, it is you,” someone interrupted her.
Nate looked up and saw a petite brunette and a tall skinny man standing next to their table.
“Patricia?” Shannon said weakly. She glanced down and blushed.
Nate realized that she obviously knew the couple, and it was just as obvious that she was embarrassed to be caught in her Roxy get-up.
“What are you two doing here? And where are the kids?” Shannon asked.
“Kyle was sweet enough to invite me to dinner and I left the kids with a sitter. Are you going to introduce us?” Patricia asked.
Shannon smiled, and Nate suspected he was the only one who noticed how forced it was.
“Patricia Leonard and Kyle Bruno, this is Nate Calder and his parents, Paul and Judy.”
“These are your friends from work, dear?” Mrs. Calder asked.
Nate suddenly realized that these were the friends she’d based her little strip-club stories on and suppressed a groan.
Their plans were about to tank, all because his mother was a lousy cook.
He knew what he was getting her for Christmas…cooking lessons. She didn’t have to be a cordon bleu chef, but man, you’d think at her age she could broil a hunk of meat without ruining all his plans in the process.
He’d be the first man in history forced to walk down the aisle because of a burnt meal.
“Why, Shannon,” his mother said, “you didn’t tell us Candy here was dating Bruno. That’s wonderful.”
“Candy?” Patricia asked.
“She prefers to be called Patricia,” Shannon corrected.
This time Nate didn’t try to suppress his groan. No, he let it out, knowing that if his mother noticed it would be the least of their worries.
Shannon had told his mom that Patricia stripped under the name Candy and of course his mom—the woman who could forget about dinner until the smoke alarms went off—didn’t forget little things like Shannon’s fictional account of her fictional job at the fictional strip club using her real colleagues’ fictional stripping names.
“How come you didn’t tell me you two were dating?” Shannon said.
Nate could tell she was trying to head off further questions from her friends, but he could have told her that the way his luck was going, it wasn’t going to work.
“We didn’t really want anyone to know,” Patricia said. “It’s all so new and you know how it is at work. Everyone knows everyone’s business.”
“Tell me about it,” Shannon muttered.
Nate could tell she was thinking about everyone at school knowing this particular business on Monday.
It occurred to him that reading her was getting easier and easier, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
“I suppose people in your line of work tend to band together,” his mother said. “I mean, it’s wonderful to have friends who understand what you do and why. People who don’t judge you,” his mom said.
“Oh, you’re so right,” Patricia said. “So many people just hear the bad stuff, how tough it can be. They don’t understand that there are good things involved with the job. That the good things far out weigh the bad.”
“Shannon was just telling us about it the other night. Would you like to join us?” his mom said. “I’d love the chance to get to know Shannon’s friends better now that she and Nate are so close.”
“Sure. We’d love to,” Patricia, aka Candy, said as she pulled up a chair from a neighboring table. “So, Nate, how long have you and Shannon been seeing each other?”
“A while,” he said as noncommittally as he could manage. He turned to Kyle, aka Bruno the Bouncer. “How ’bout those Pirates?”
“Yeah. How ’bout them?” Kyle countered. “I think they can go all the way this year.” He turned to Nate’s dad and said, “You?”
“An Indian fan through and through.”
Nate worked at keeping the conversation turned to sports. He figured if they were talking balls and strikes loud enough his mom couldn’t start to cross-examine Shannon’s friend about work.
“Patricia…” his mom said.
“And what about the Otters still being in the play-offs?” Nate said, hoping to out-talk his mom. He should have known it wouldn’t work. “It’s so great to still have hockey games so far into the spring.”
His mom shot him an evil glare and continued, “So, how long have you worked at…well, with Shannon?”
“Oh, it must be three years now, right Shannon?” Patricia said.
“Yeah,” she answered, sounding as morose as he felt.
“I’ve been to all the home games,” Nate said. “I play amateur hockey with some friends.”
“Me, too,” said Kyle. “A bunch of us at work got together and formed a team. We’ve got games through July. I love baseball, but hockey, now that’s a tough sport.”
Nate’s mom picked right up on that. “The people you…work with are on a hockey team?”
“Co-ed. It’s just for fun. Work can be so stressful, there are just so many demands, we need somewhere to unwind. And there’s no better way to de-stress than skating around an ice rink hitting pucks.”
“I imagine you do need an outlet given the circumstances,” his mom said. “It’s good that all the women at work have you to look after them.”
Kyle grinned at Patricia. “I look after some a little more closely than others.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re a gentleman. Shannon told me that you’ve been her hero on more than one occasion.”
“Oh, yeah. There was that time the Pembrooke clan got together and…
7
“WELL, NOW, that was an interesting night,” Nate said as they walked from his car up to her porch.
Interesting was going to be the discussion in the teacher’s room on Monday, trying to explain what had happened…yeah, that would be interesting.
For the life of her, Shannon couldn’t think of a way to explain her outfit.
Somehow they’d made it through the meal without having Nate’s mom see through their deception, but it had been a near thing more than once. Thank goodness for the Erie Otters being in the play-offs. The guys had kept that conversation going for quite a while.
“Interesting,” Shannon repeated. “Yeah, you can say that again.”
She stood, staring out at the street lights wondering if she could bribe Patricia and Kyle into silence. Oh, her date was going to be all over the faculty room on Monday, she just knew it.
“That was…” Nate left the sentence hanging, smiling as he stood next to her.
“Funny, Calder. Real funny. Let’s see how funny you’d think it was if some of your customers from the pharmacy saw you all bikered up.”
His smile faded abruptly and he laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. It was meant to be comforting, not something designed to arouse her…but arouse her it di
d.
The slightest touch, the smallest gesture could heat her blood stream, at least they could if it was Nate doing the touching or the gesture.
“You’re really upset,” he said, softly.
She nodded. Though she wasn’t nearly as upset about dinner as she was by the power Nate seemed to have over her. “Yes, I am.”
“Hey, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have refused to go out with my mom. I just don’t know how to tell her no sometimes.”
“Tell me about it. It’s not your fault I’m in this absurd situation. It’s my mother’s. You not being able to say no to a dinner is far more understandable than me not being able to say no to a wedding.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this right now,” Nate said slowly, “but I have to confess, I’m sort of grateful to your mom.”
“Grateful?” Of all the things she’d expect to hear him say, that wasn’t one.
“Grateful?” she repeated.
“Yeah. I mean, if your mom hadn’t come up with that bet and started throwing you at men, you wouldn’t have ended up at Mick’s. If you hadn’t ended up at Mick’s, then I wouldn’t have met you. If I hadn’t met you I wouldn’t be standing here on your porch, with a full moon blazing overhead, thinking about doing this—”
There was no time to think, no time to prepare, though even if there had been, Shannon would have been defenseless as Nate stopped talking and moved toward her. He turned her gently until she was facing him and then lowered his lips to hers.
She could have turned her head. Could have backed away. Instead, she met the kiss.
Hot. Hard. Demanding. Any thoughts of ruined reputations or overbearing mothers were immediately lost in the sensation of kissing Nate.
The smell of him, the taste of him, the firmness of his lips, the warmth of his body pressed to hers…it all merged into one throbbing blaze of desire. Shannon was swimming in a sea of sensations—drowning in them.
The kiss eased, and slowly their lips parted, but neither of them released their hold on the other.
“Wow,” Nate said as he released his breath.
Shannon laughed. “Oh so eloquent, as always, Mr. Calder.”
A Baby...Maybe? & How to Hunt a Husband Page 24