by Carol Caiton
Some of his friends were still looking at her so she gathered herself, gave them a small nod of acknowledgment, then turned and walked away. She should be with Jill, offering love and support and anything else her sister needed. Later, at home, she could give into the hurt that squeezed inside her chest. In the quiet of deep night she'd be able to let the tears fall.
* * *
Michael watched her walk away and had to beat back the urge to go after her. He'd hurt her. He knew he had and it was gnawing at his insides. He also knew that he'd just lost something he might never find again. There was a big frigging ache in his chest—he could feel the damn thing like a hollowed out stone. But he'd made a decision and there was a good reason for that decision. If it was this hard already to walk away from her, all he had to do was think about what it would be like later.
CHAPTER 16
The warmth and bright sunshine outside seemed unnatural after the sorrow and hushed voices inside the church hall. Joshua lifted his head off her shoulder and twisted around to look over at his father. Then he turned back to face her. "It's a nice punkin, isn't it, Ali?"
She had to smile. Disregarding the dirt and grit that was probably rubbing off onto his father's suit jacket, the pumpkin was large and symmetrical and would have been perfect for a jack-o'-lantern. "It's a beautiful pumpkin," she answered. "Even nicer than the ones the farmer gave me."
Satisfied, the little boy leaned his side against her and began playing with her hair again.
"Where did you find it?" Ali asked.
"In the kitchen. It was on the floor next to the big trash can. That means they were gonna throw it away."
"Who did you ask before taking it?" Mason said.
"A lady."
Again Ali smiled. To a five-year-old little boy it wouldn't matter who the lady was. As far as he was concerned, any grown-up would have the authority to tell him it was all right to take the pumpkin.
She met Mason's amused eyes over Joshua's head. Apparently he'd reached the same conclusion. She looked quickly away.
"Why don't you tell Ali what you meant when you told her you don't like God." He said it casually, as though inviting general conversation.
Joshua looked up from what he was doing with her hair. "Do you like God?"
"Yes, I do."
"Does He like you back?"
"Yes, He does."
Joshua didn't like her answer. His fingers stilled and his mouth pursed in a scowl. "I don't want Him to like you. Can you make Him stop?"
Ali halted in her tracks. She looked at Mason for direction. What would a man who belonged to a place like RUSH have told his child about God? Evidently he'd said something because his son believed God existed. Or maybe his grandmother had talked to him. But Ali had no idea how Mason wanted her to proceed. This was a topic that should be discussed privately between father and son. Surprisingly though, he responded to her silent question with a single nod, giving her permission to answer.
Brushing Joshua's hair back from his forehead she said, "Why don't you want God to like me, sweetheart?"
His answer came quickly. "Because He might take you away. He took Uncle Luke away."
His child eyes, looking at her so solemnly, clearly understanding that his uncle was gone forever, pulled at her heart. This time, when she looked to Mason, she told him with her own eyes that it was his job to take it from here. No way was she going to talk to his son about life and death and God and heaven. Then it occurred to her. What if Mason was an agnostic, or an atheist?
As it turned out he was neither. The explanation he gave was uncomplicated and held none of the anger his son felt. He answered each question without hesitation, and when he didn't have a clear-cut answer he said so. Then he told his son that people of different faiths had varying points of view and that maybe, one day, Ali would tell them hers.
Without a lengthy exploration into theology, he'd given his five-year-old son some basics and had left the door open for future discussion. It gave Ali pause and, regarding him now, she didn't know what to think.
"Would you like me to take him?" Mason asked and she realized he was watching her.
What kind of man could work at a place like RUSH, own a place like RUSH, and convey such insight and warmth in parenting his child? She searched his eyes looking for answers, and saw his sorrow in the small, tired lines at the corners. Joshua clung to her a little tighter, indicating his preference to stay where he was and she reassured him with a gentle hug. "No," she told Mason, "he's fine."
Her car was within sight now. They started across the parking lot once again. "Guess what I see," she whispered mysteriously.
Joshua caught on right away. Twisting around to search the parking lot, he yanked on her hair in the process and she hissed in pain.
Mason caught his little arm, easing the tension on her scalp, and Ali looked down to find her hair caught around a rubber band attached to his wrist.
Mason scowled at the knotted tangle. "Where did you get that thing?"
Joshua looked down, probably realized his second prize was in jeopardy of being confiscated, and tried to hide it with his other hand. "On the floor," he told his father. "Next to the big trash can."
Ali wondered what other treasures had been discovered around the big trash can as Joshua pulled at the elastic in a clumsy attempt to free the tangled strands.
"Leave it until we get to the car," Mason instructed. "And be careful not to pull Ali's hair."
Less than a minute later they reached her bumblebee-yellow Beetle and Joshua did a little bounce in her arms. "Can I get in it again?"
Letting him play inside her car would leave her relatively alone with Mason but she couldn't come up with a valid reason to tell him he couldn't. Her purse strap was draped over her shoulder, so she couldn't even say she didn't have her keys. "After you give back my hair, okay?"
Mason set the pumpkin down beside the rear tire and began working the strands of hair free of the rubber band. When his son twisted impatiently, trying to see inside her car, he slid the elastic off Joshua's wrist.
"Are your keys handy?"
Ali thought for a minute. If Mason started searching inside her purse, he'd have to stick his hand through the tissues she'd cried into during the funeral service. "There's a spare under the rear bumper," she told him. "Next to the pumpkin."
He found it with the first swipe of his hand and opened the door. Joshua bounded inside, and she went to work on unraveling her hair.
"Let me," Mason said, brushing her fingers aside.
"Mason—"
She made the mistake of looking up and his eyes locked with hers. He was so close, she could have reached up and brushed her fingers over those tired lines beside his eyes.
Heat rushed into her face. She wanted to look away but his hands stilled, holding hers captive in their warmth and he squeezed lightly.
"We need to talk," he said.
Ali shook her head. "No."
He may have impressed her with his parenting skills, but the scene she'd witnessed at RUSH featured him as a supporting character. She had first-hand knowledge of the depravity that was part of his life and it wasn't possible to forget that.
"Things have changed."
She kept shaking her head. "No."
It didn't matter what had changed. She didn't want to know him any better than she did right now at this moment. The attraction was too strong.
She pushed his hands away and stepped back.
"Ali, will you come to my birthday party?"
She started. Looking around Mason, she saw his son poke his head out the open door. His dark chocolaty eyes, so much like his father's, looked over at her.
She glanced up at Mason. She wanted to refuse and she knew her eyes asked for his help. But Mason merely looked back and waited for her answer.
Hiding her frustration, she pasted on a smile. "I'd love to come to your birthday party."
"Okay. Good."
He dove back inside her car
and she turned to his father. "You could have helped."
"Yes, I could have."
"Well that was certainly straightforward."
He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm an attorney. I choose my arguments carefully."
Ali stared at him. What the heck was that supposed to mean? "When is his birthday?" she asked.
"Not until May."
"May?"
"Yes."
Well, for goodness sake, it wasn't even Christmas yet. "Maybe he'll forget by then."
"He won't forget."
"Because you won't let him?"
"I won't need to say anything at all."
She stared up at him with exasperation. "Mason, this isn't working. Maybe it would be better if I stopped sending e-mails to him."
He looked at her for a long moment. "You'd hurt my son because of what you think of me?"
Ali closed her eyes. He certainly did choose his arguments carefully. And when he attacked he aimed well and hit the target. Joshua was already worried that God was going to take her away.
"No," she finally said, lifting her eyes to his. "I wouldn't hurt him intentionally. But I need you to keep our acquaintance platonic."
He shook his head. "I can't do that."
"Mason—"
"I'm thirty-four, Ali. That's plenty old enough to know that when I can't stop thinking about a woman, I'd better pay attention."
His words punched a big hole through the barrier she'd erected. Why, why did he have to say something that would send an ache of longing through her?
"But you're only twenty-three," he went on. "And that makes this attraction a little alarming on my end. Are you still involved with someone else?" he asked.
Again, his direct approach caught her off guard. She considered how to answer because it would be so easy to lie.
"Mason, don't."
"I want to know where this leads, Ali," he said. He glanced at her car then back. "Will you have dinner with me? —Just dinner," he qualified when she opened her mouth to refuse. "We need to talk."
The temptation to accept cast a powerful shadow over the vivid images that haunted her. She wished her emotions had an on-off switch. She wanted to explore this attraction they both felt, dip her toes in the water to see what it was like, then pull back and press the off switch without tumbling off the sandbar and falling in over her head.
Stalling for time, she began working Joshua's rubber band free from her hair. Then suddenly Mason's fingers were there, the rubber band was tossed to the pavement and his hand slid into her hair, his thumb tilting her face up to his.
"Mason . . . ." She was breathless, excited, afraid, and—
His other hand found her waist, circling around to her back, and he closed the space between them. She knew what was coming and all her nerve endings tingled with life. The brush of his body, the difference between his height and hers, the possessive touch that told her he wouldn't be deterred this time, filled her with exhilaration.
She stared at the snowy white shirt beneath his suit jacket, at the black silk tie, and felt him dip his head before his lips touched her forehead, drifted to her temple . . . .
"Ali," he whispered.
And with that soft caress of her name, she was powerless. Just this once, she told herself. Just this once she'd step off the sandbar and give in to this wild need that wouldn't go away.
She lifted her face, met his dark eyes, and watched the banked fire she saw flare up in flames when she whispered his name in return. Then she parted her lips as his mouth descended and found hers.
It was everything she knew it would be, soft, careful, coaxing . . . then exploding in a burst of hungry need when he slid his tongue between her lips, into her mouth, and plundered.
Over and over again he claimed her, demanding a response she freely gave, and gathering her close—so close, she was sure he felt the same mad passion that raged in her.
She stretched up on her toes, reaching her arms around him, and slid her hands up his back, trembling with a need that had been growing since the day she met him. She wanted this moment in his arms to go on and on, desperate to hold onto the dream, yet knowing she'd have to brand it on her memory because she'd have to let it go.
Gradually, he brought her back to earth, easing the pressure of his mouth, brushing her lips with his until they became a light caress.
She lowered the heels of her pumps to the ground, sagged against him, and rested her forehead against his chest.
"You play dirty," she murmured, telling herself to back away, but holding fast to these last few seconds.
"I'm not playing," he told her, his deep voice close beside her ear. "This isn't a game and I couldn't be more serious."
She felt the heavy thud of his heart beneath her forehead and knew he'd been as deeply affected as she had. She took a shaky breath.
"You shouldn't have kissed me in front of Joshua," she said, remembering the little boy exploring the inside of her car.
"My son isn't going to suffer psychological damage by watching me kiss a woman he and I both want in our lives."
He pressed his lips to the side of her head and she sighed. When she could breathe normally again, she drew back and looked up. His eyes were dark with determination now and she shook her head. "You're making this harder for both of us," she whispered. "I can't—"
"I'm leaving RUSH," he told her.
She stared, searching his eyes. He was leaving RUSH?
"I've lined up a couple of attorneys the others are going to interview. Then I'll be selling my shares in the company."
Ali tried to gather her thoughts as a flicker of hope sparked to life. "When?" she asked.
"In a couple of months. Joshua's getting older now and I'd already decided to leave when he started school. He paused, lifted his hand, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Meeting you just sped up the process a little."
She didn't know what to say.
"Let me take you out tonight," he urged. "We'll have dinner, talk about it, and I'll bring you home."
But she shook her head. "I can't. Rachel and I are going to stay with Jill so she won't be alone tonight."
"Tomorrow then."
She wanted to say yes, but once again she shook her head. "You're moving too fast for me. I need some time to think things through."
"Then tell me you'll wait," he said, his eyes serious and determined. "It shouldn't take more than two or three months to finalize everything. Four at the most."
Be that as it may, she couldn't just dismiss the horrific scene she'd witnessed the day she'd visited RUSH. What kind of man indulged in a lifestyle like that? What did it say about him and the sort of relationship he might want with her?
Dismay swept through her and must have been evident in her features because he guessed at the cause.
"Ali, what you saw isn't who I am. Threshold is a small part of RUSH—the dark part. It doesn't represent the character of what we built." His fingers on her waist prompted a response. "Wait for me."
She searched his face. She wanted to believe him. Such a big part of her wanted that and she wondered how she could feel so much for a someone she hardly knew.
Mason is a good and decent man. —Rachel's words. I don't see anything depraved or perverted when I look at Mason . . . .
"Yes," she told him. "I'll wait."
The hand in her hair slid around to her jaw and tilted her face to his. Then he lowered his head again and kissed her.
"Do you like kissing my daddy?"
Direct. Just like his father. Joshua stood beside the front of her car where multi-colored curling flames had been airbrushed from the front fender to the passenger door. His innocent, childlike question tore through the intimate moment with sobering efficiency.
Ali broke away from Mason and stepped back. Heat flooded her cheeks.
Mason turned, hunkered down, and held out one arm to his son. Joshua readily walked to his father and leaned his small body against Mason's chest.
"Are you gonna marry Ali?" he asked.
Mason glanced up, gave her an amused smile, then turned back to Joshua. "Ali and I are just getting to know one another," he said.
"Yeah, but if you did marry her, would she come live with us?"
"If I decide to marry someone, then yes, the woman I marry will live with us."
Looking around Mason's shoulder, Joshua fixed his eyes on her and said, "Well I already know Ali real good. Could she marry me? That way she could come live with us right now."
How could she not love this little boy? She opened her mouth to respond, but Mason beat her to it.
"Ali can't marry you, Josh."
"How come?"
"Because I'm pretty sure she likes kissing me." He gave his son a teasing smile. "And if she married you, she wouldn't kiss me anymore and I wouldn't like that."
"Because you like kissing her too?"
"That's right, I do."
Joshua frowned. "Then hurry up and get to know her so we can marry her."
* * *
"Is she asleep?" Rachel asked. She glanced up, then finished wrapping another dinner plate in a double sheet of newspaper.
"I think so," Ali answered. "I held her hand until her fingers went slack, then I sat with her for about ten more minutes."
She entered the kitchen, prepared to help pack the rest of Jill's things, but spotted several boxes already full and stacked beside the center island. When she looked up at the open cabinet, it was nearly bare.
"I'm almost finished here," Rachel said. "How about if we take a break, watch the news, then come back?"
"Sounds good."
Rachel placed the dinner plate inside a box on the table, then washed the newsprint off her hands. "I'll pour some iced tea and bring it in if you want to go figure out the TV setup."
"Okay."
It felt odd to walk through Luke's house. His presence was everywhere, from the business suit hanging on the bedroom door, still wrapped in plastic from the dry cleaners, to the baseball cap tossed casually onto the sofa in the living room. It was as though he'd walk through the door at any moment, grin at them, and ask who was cooking dinner. What was it with men and food? Nathan was the same way.