OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

A good round of sex in the back seat of his car might make that confession easier. She'd had him wound around her little finger the night before when she'd flashed him with her crotchless panties. If she picked just the right moment to give him the news, he might be fine with it. She was probably stressing over nothing. He might even laugh and tell her she was silly to worry about such a small matter.

  Nevertheless, she constantly checked through her living-room window to see if she spied his car pulling into the parking lot. When it did, at two minutes before six, she sighed in relief. Crawling over a patio wall seemed too much like stalking and it wasn't really her style.

  Maybe Sam had been busy all day—simple as that. The important thing was that he'd shown up when they'd agreed upon. She'd done her part, wearing elastic-waist shorts, a T-shirt and no underwear whatsoever. If that wasn't cooperation, she didn't know what was.

  When Sam rang the doorbell, her heart started pounding. Well, so she was a little bit nervous. Sometime before the night was out she had to tell him the very small details she'd left out. Surely they wouldn't matter too much, and he'd forgive her for the slight deception. She could explain it all in such a way that he'd understand perfectly. And then they'd have some more sex.

  She opened the door with a smile. Her smile vanished the moment she saw his face.

  "What in hell were you thinking?"

  As she absorbed the fury in his eyes, she knew this was going to be bad. Very, very bad.

  * * *

  Chapter 17

  «^

  Sam held tight to his anger, ignoring a rush of sympathy for Kasey. She looked devastated, but he couldn't weaken toward her now. He walked into the room and slammed the door, for emphasis. She flinched. Too bad. She'd lied to him, and that hurt. A lot.

  "Sam, I can explain. I—"

  "I thought you had a little problem because you'd just gotten over a nerdy phase and wanted to spread your wings!" He glared at her. "I thought you might be younger than me, maybe by several years, but I never dreamed you were only twenty. You're just a baby!"

  "I am not!" Her chin came up in defiance, but there were tears gathering in her eyes.

  "Oh, yes, you are." He tried to block his awareness of the outfit she'd worn, an outfit he'd specified for backseat sex. "I remember being twenty, and I didn't know shit from shinola back then." He turned away from her, unable to continue looking at the woman he still wanted and couldn't have. "Little Kasey Winston. And I sent you off to buy crotchless underwear."

  "Don't call me that!"

  He glanced back at her. "It's who you are, although I never would have recognized you. I guess I know where you got that little scar on your lip, don't I? Oh, and by the way, I didn't tell Jim anything about us. That's partly so he won't lecture you, but mostly so he won't beat the crap out of me."

  "I wouldn't let him do that." Her voice shook. "Sam, you don't understand. Please let me explain."

  "I probably do understand—at least some of it. Jim told me you charged right through school and had your Bachelor's by the time you were eighteen. He said you were trying to pass as someone older, especially at work, and I get that. But why in hell's name did you have to deceive me, of all people?" Damned if he didn't have a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of it.

  She looked as if he'd propped her in front of a firing squad. She was obviously scared but determined to take what was coming to her. "You might as well know everything. All the women in the office watched you from the window. Then we drew straws to see who would ask you out. I got the long straw."

  He'd thought he couldn't feel worse, but he'd been wrong. His throat hurt, and his voice rasped harshly. "You did it on a dare?"

  "Sort of."

  "Did you know it was me?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh, Kasey." He walked over and stared sightlessly out her living-room window. "So you knew all along that nothing could come of this, and yet you still…" He shook his head, unable to go on.

  "I didn't … didn't mean for anyone to g-get hurt."

  He didn't need to turn around to know she was crying. He felt like crying, too. "Well, I did get hurt. And at some point you had to know that was liable to happen. Damn it, Kasey, you as good as lied to me." He braced his hand against the wall and lowered his head, fighting for control. He wanted to go over there and comfort her, but he couldn't let himself do that. He hated hearing her cry. Worse yet, he still wanted her.

  She choked back a sob. "You're right. I lied and I knew you could get hurt. There's really no excuse for that. I meant to end things that first night, but then I started to care for you, too. And I began to think that maybe it could work, after all. I was going to say that tonight, plus tell you how old I was."

  "You thought maybe it could work?" He spun around, unable to believe she'd said such a thing. "I don't care how young you are, you should be old enough to know better than that. How could you think for one second I'd expect a twenty-year-old woman to give up all that precious time of exploring, finding herself—hell, growing up? Never in a million years would I ask that of you."

  "But what if I don't want to—"

  "You don't know what you want."

  "Yes, I do!"

  "Come on, Kasey. Two days ago you were saying you couldn't commit to me because you'd been a nerd and wanted to be a glam girl on the loose for a while."

  She took a ragged breath. "So I've changed my mind."

  "But there's one thing you can't change, and that's your age. If only you'd told me the truth that first night If only you'd said Sam, I'm twenty years old. The commitment discussion would have been over, Kasey."

  "And we … we would have been over, too."

  "Yes, we damn sure would have. I'm way too attracted to you, and my days of casual sex are gone."

  "Don't you see? So are mine! I love you, Sam!"

  He winced. How he'd longed to hear her say that. And now she had. But he couldn't trust her to know her own mind. He sighed. "I know you think you do, but—"

  "I do!" She hurled herself into his arms. "I didn't want to love you, but I can't help it." Tears streamed from her eyes. "And I think I just lost one of my contacts and my nose is running and I need—"

  "You need me out of your life." Gently he set her away from him. It was the toughest thing he'd ever done. "And you may not believe this, but I'm leaving because I happen to love you, too."

  "Oh, spare me!" She swiped at her eyes. "Please don't tell me you're doing this for my own good!"

  "Okay, I won't tell you that." He reached for the doorknob. "But it's the truth. Goodbye, Kasey." He went out the door and closed it behind him. As he walked away, he heard a thump, as if some object had hit the door. She'd thrown something. Well, after all, she was only twenty.

  * * *

  Kasey cried until her eyes hurt and her throat was raw. But gradually the tears dried up, and she was left lying on the carpet, staring at the door. She'd grabbed the closest thing to throw, which had turned out to be the little knapsack of goodies she'd packed for their drive out of town. Fortunately nothing in the canvas bag was breakable.

  After getting to her hands and knees, she crawled to the bag, sat down and opened it. She'd put a package of Pepperidge Farm cookies in there, the kind with chocolate filling. She grabbed the package, broke the seal and took out a cookie. Cookies might make her think better, and she had some serious thinking to do.

  According to all her test scores, she was nearly a genius. And if a woman who was nearly a genius, even if she happened to be only twenty years old, couldn't solve this problem and get Sam back, then what good were brains, anyway? So she would solve this problem, because she had to get Sam back. The minute he'd walked out the door, she'd finally known for certain that he was her forever-after man.

  She also believed with all her heart that she was his forever-after woman. So by bringing them back together, she'd be doing both of them a tremendous favor. She smiled softly. Once she accomplished that she'd try not to
remind him of it too often. Maybe just once a year, on their wedding anniversary. And they would have a wedding anniversary, because sometime in the next year they would have a wedding.

  But first she had to convince Sam that he wanted to marry her. Actually, she wouldn't have to convince him of that part. He already loved her. He'd said so. And because he was thirty, he'd want marriage and kids and a life in that cute little house. She got all warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

  All she really needed to change was Sam's image of her, exactly the way she planned to change his company's image and the image for Slightly Scandalous. But she'd have to do it soon, and she'd have to make an indelible impression, one he wouldn't be able to get out of his mind, ever.

  She'd recruit her buddies from work and Sam's brother, Colin. Although she'd met Colin only once, she'd felt an immediate intellectual kinship. She thought Colin would get a real kick out of helping her set a trap for his big brother. And tomorrow night would give her the perfect opportunity.

  * * *

  Sam agreed to go with Jim and Alicia to the Yucca Lounge, although he'd rather have had a root canal. Every time he looked at Jim, he thought of Kasey, and every time he watched Jim and Alicia getting friendly, he thought of Kasey. On top of that, the whole time he listened to the Tin Tarantulas, he thought of Kasey.

  Maybe it didn't matter who he was with or what he was doing. He was doomed to think of Kasey—Kasey on that first night in the hammock, Kasey pushing her sexual limits the second night in her apartment, Kasey prancing down an imaginary runway in crotchless panties, Kasey sobbing as he told her they were finished. He couldn't bring himself to picture Kasey moving on and feeling grateful to him that he'd had the good sense to break up with her. That image hurt too damned much.

  One of these days he was bound to feel noble and virtuous for what he'd done. One of these days the pain had to improve—no one could continue to live for very long in this kind of agony. The worst of it was he couldn't tell anyone. The way he saw it, nobody else needed to hear about this, but that meant he couldn't vent, either.

  Still, he had the definite feeling that Colin knew something was wrong. During the break between sets, he came to the table as usual and tried to act like his normal wisecracking self. But in unguarded moments he would look thoughtfully at Sam, and when Sam caught him at it, he'd turn away and make another joke. Maybe Kasey had gotten in touch with Colin, somehow. Maybe she was planning to show up here tonight.

  The more Sam thought about it, the more likely it seemed that Colin was in on some scheme of Kasey's. Sam hadn't expected her to give, up, although that's what she should do. If she thought Colin would put in a good word for her, she might have asked him to do that after the gig tonight. Well, Colin could talk until he was blue in the face. Sam was not about to ruin the future of the woman he loved, no matter how much the decision to let her go hurt.

  After the band's final number, Sam braced himself, convinced that Colin would ambush him, somehow. Jim and Alicia were ready to leave, but Sam delayed them, just in case Colin had something to say. It wouldn't do any good, of course. But if the message had come from Kasey … aw, hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to believe that she'd talked to Colin. He wanted some evidence that she would try to get him back.

  Nothing she could do would work, but still, if she tried, that would soothe his soul a little bit. He'd hold her off until she stopped trying and realized that they didn't belong together. In truth, they might have belonged together, if they'd met several years from now.

  Maybe he'd look her up after a long time had passed. God knows he wouldn't be with anyone. He couldn't imagine it, not after loving Kasey.

  Colin didn't show. Sam finally excused himself from Jim and Alicia and went to find him. There was Colin, surrounded by his female groupies as usual. Sam waded into the middle of them and tapped his brother on the shoulder.

  Colin glanced up. "Hey, bro! How come you're still around?"

  "I wondered if you wanted to talk to me about anything."

  "No, not really." But there was a gleam in his eyes. "Go on home, man. Guys your age need your rest."

  Sam's heart leaped. Sure as the world, Colin had loaned Kasey his key to Sam's house, and she was waiting for him. He would bet money on it. "That's what you think," he said, just to test his theory. "Jim, Alicia and I are heading out for a late-night snack." They had no such plan, but he might smoke Colin out that way.

  "Suit yourself, dude." Colin tried to look unconcerned.

  Sam saw right through him, and excitement fizzed in his veins. Something was definitely going on, and he would find out what once he got home. "See you later," he said to Colin.

  "Sure thing. And thanks for coming. The crowd was great."

  "Yeah, it was." Sam was happy for his brother. The Yucca Lounge had been packed. But now he had to go home and tell Kasey he really didn't want to see her anymore. He shouldn't be looking forward to that, but the thought of talking to her one more time put a spring in his step as he returned to the table where Jim and Alicia waited.

  "We're going out for coffee," Jim said. "Want to come along?"

  "Thanks," Sam said, "but if you could drop me at home, I'm ready to turn in." He noticed they took the news with good cheer. No doubt they wanted to be alone, anyway.

  When they pulled into his driveway, he looked for Kasey's little red convertible, but it wasn't there. The disappointment was so sharp he almost forgot to say all the usual polite things to Jim and Alicia. At the last minute he remembered to thank them and promised that they'd get together again soon.

  Then he started up his walkway. He might actually have to sell the place. That would be stupid, because he hadn't lived in it long enough to build up much equity, but the house no longer interested him if he couldn't have Kasey. Coming home night after night, knowing she'd never be there again, would be pure torture.

  After twisting the key in the lock, he opened the door. Monday he'd call a real-estate agent. Monday he'd…

  He stood in the doorway, the key still dangling from his hand, while he stared at his living room. Vases and pots of flowers covered every surface. Roses, daisies, chrysanthemums, you name it. They sat on the coffee table, the end tables, even the floor. And sticking out of one bright vase of mixed blooms was a sign. He moved closer. Let me color your world. Love, Kasey.

  "Kasey?" She must have used the time he was at the Yucca Lounge to set this up. He wasn't sure if she'd staged it and left, or if she was still here. But if she was here, she didn't answer.

  Heart pounding, he walked through the living room, picking his way around the flowers. Then he smelled something cooling. Could she be in the kitchen? But she didn't cook. Following the delicious aroma of apple pie, he went through the dining room into the kitchen.

  She wasn't there, but the counters were filled with pastries. The aroma he'd caught came from a chafing dish of warm apple cobbler. He leaned over a decorated sheet cake next to it. Was that a naked woman outlined in pink frosting? With little red nipples? It was. Next to it, lettered in red, was the message Let me cook up some excitement. Love, Kasey.

  So she wasn't in the kitchen, either. He decided to check the bedroom, imagining her stretched out on his king-size mattress. Walking down the hall, he trembled, knowing he needed to be strong, and aware he was weakening fast. But she wasn't in the bedroom, either.

  Instead, the bed was mounded with silk pillows. On his dresser and nightstands, dozens of votives in glass holders turned the room into a fairyland. Then he realized each pillow was stitched with a word, and taken together, they spelled out I can set your nights on fire. Love, Kasey.

  He only had one obvious place left to look. Taking a deep breath, he walked back down the hall and through the kitchen. He opened the door, expecting to find candles there, too. But the area was dark and still.

  Sick with disappointment, he stepped onto the patio. He'd been so sure she'd be here, with some sort of grand finale.

  Then he heard a
click and Bruce Springsteen's "Secret Garden" drifted from somewhere nearby. Next the trees sparkled to life, the branches strung with hundreds of tiny white lights.

  "Welcome home, Sam."

  He spun around, and she emerged from the shadows wearing the skimpiest halter top and the tightest capri pants he'd ever seen.

  He stared at her, at a loss for words.

  But she seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say, as if she'd rehearsed it. "Sam, I can be everything you need—a partner, a playmate and a lover. You told me that this sort of happiness doesn't come along every day, and you're right. Are you willing to let me go and take a chance on losing what you've found?"

  "But … you're so … young." She didn't seem young right now, though. She seemed exactly the right age for everything he had in mind.

  She looked at him, her posture straight, her gaze steady. "I'm old enough to know that I've found the love of my life. Are you old enough to know that?"

  He stepped closer, drawn to her by the certainty in her eyes. "I don't want you to regret loving me."

  "Never in a million years."

  With a groan of surrender, he gathered her into his arms. God, she felt so good. "I need you. I need you desperately."

  She held him close and looked deep into his eyes. "We need each other, Sam. You know we're perfect together. We'd be fools to let anything tear us apart." He trembled to think how close they'd come to having that happen, all because he'd allowed a numerical age to cloud what he knew about her in his heart. She was his equal in every way, more than his equal in some ways. "I was almost that dumb."

  "That's why I had to save you … save us."

  A smile of pure joy tugged at his mouth. "You did one helluva job, PR lady."

  Her serious expression lifted and her eyes began to sparkle with professional pride. "You liked the way I displayed my message points?"

  He tightened his hold on her. "I like the way you display all your points."

  "You were one tough customer to deal with, but I have to say, this campaign kicked butt."