Surprise Partners

by Gina Wilkins

  “Larissa, I need to talk to you.”

  “We can talk over tea, can’t we?” With one last, thoughtful glance at the canvas, Larissa stood and moved toward the doorway, her loose, brightly colored dress fluttering around her.

  Sighing, Lydia followed her sister into the kitchen. The only way to get through to Larissa was just to start talking. “Gary Dunston called me this afternoon.”

  Running water into a teakettle, Larissa looked over her shoulder with a bright smile. “That’s lovely.”

  “No, it isn’t lovely. I do not want to date Gary.”

  “But, Lyddie, he’s such a sweet man. Such a gentle spirit. Why won’t you give him a chance?”

  “I gave him a chance. I’m not interested, Larissa.”

  Larissa set the kettle on the stove, heaving a big sigh as she did so. “It’s your decision, of course. Whatever I think, it’s up to you to decide whether you want to go out with Gary.”

  “Exactly. And I don’t want to—as I told him when he called.”

  “I hope you were kind.”

  “I tried to be.”

  “Sounds as if you’ve taken care of it, then. So why are you annoyed with me? I didn’t tell him to call you today.”

  “You’ve been encouraging him.”

  “Nonsense. I gave him your number after the party and suggested he give you a call sometime. That’s the full extent of my involvement.”

  “You talked to him about Scott.”

  “He asked if you and Scott were dating exclusively, and I told him what you told me—that you and Scott were only friends.”

  Lydia shook her head. “That isn’t all you told him. He said you confided in him that you weren’t happy that Scott and I were dating. It was obvious he knew you don’t trust Scott.”

  A slight frown drew Larissa’s brows together. “I didn’t tell him all that. I merely said that you and Scott weren’t a couple. I suppose he could have read my feelings in my expression—Gary’s a very intuitive man.” She made it sound like another point in Gary’s favor.

  “You’re sure you didn’t say anything negative about Scott to Gary?”

  “Of course not, Lyddie. That would have been rude. Scott was a guest in my home. I suppose Gary assumed I disapproved because I encouraged him to call you. Anything else was just speculation on his part…or perhaps his own conclusions after seeing you and Scott together.”

  “Whatever his motivation, I didn’t like it. I hope I’ve made that clear to him—and to you.”

  Larissa held up her hands in a classic sign of surrender. “I give up. I promise—no more interfering in your social life. From now on, you’re on your own.”

  It wasn’t exactly an abject apology. But to Lydia’s relief at least it sounded as though Larissa was giving up on her matchmaking scheme. That was one less problem for her to deal with now, she thought as she sank into a chair at Larissa’s table.

  Larissa set a cup of tea in front of her. “Are you still mad at me?”

  Lydia smiled faintly. “No.”

  “Good. So tell me what you’ve been up to since we talked last.”

  Stalling, Lydia took a cautious sip of the very hot tea.

  Larissa studied her from across the table, perceptive as always where her sister was concerned. “You’ve been spending time with him, haven’t you? The lawyer.”

  “His name is Scott. And yes, I’ve seen a lot of him lately. He’s had the flu, and I gave him a hand for a few days.”

  “So that’s what’s been keeping you too busy to answer your phone lately. I thought you were busy with work.”

  “With both, actually. I was able to get quite a lot done while I sat with Scott.”

  “While you sat with him? He must have been quite sick.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Is he better now?”

  Thinking of the strength in Scott’s arms when he held her yesterday, Lydia nodded. “He seems to be fully recovered.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Larissa said, and Lydia believed her.

  Larissa might not approve of lawyers as a whole, and Scott in particular because he was interested in Lydia, but she wouldn’t wish anything unpleasant on him. As blunt and obstinate as she could be, Larissa had a very kind heart.

  Larissa set her teacup down, tracing the steamy rim with one paint-stained fingertip. “You’re really very fond of him, aren’t you, Lyddie? You wouldn’t have made so much time to take care of him if you weren’t.”

  “I was simply being a good friend and a good neighbor. He needed help and I—”

  “Lydia…”

  Larissa’s tone and expression told Lydia she was wasting time trying to sidestep the question. “I like him,” she answered simply. “Very much.”

  “Are you sleeping with him?”

  Lydia was accustomed enough to her sister’s ways not to be overly startled by the blunt question, but it still made her blink. “No.”

  “Your choice or his?”

  “Mine.”

  “Does that mean he wants you to?”

  “Is nothing private to you?” Lydia asked in exasperation.

  “Not between us. Come on, Lyddie, I talked to you a lot when I first started dating Charlie. You knew how nervous I was about moving in with him, how worried I was that living with someone would interfere with my work. You knew how hard it was for me to trust him to give me the freedom I need even with our lives so intimately connected. I just want to know if you have those same concerns about Scott.”

  “Not exactly the same,” Lydia finally replied. “Scott’s too busy with his own career to interfere with mine.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “Of course.”

  “So…as much as I hate to ask this…what’s holding you back? You like him, he obviously likes you, you don’t get in each other’s way. He isn’t involved with anyone else, is he, now that his affair with Cheyenne’s friend, Paula, is over?”

  “No. There isn’t anyone else.” She’d spent enough time with him now to be assured of that.

  “You aren’t attracted to him?”

  Lydia gave her sister a look. “You saw him, Larissa. What do you think?”

  “I think he isn’t my type, but most women would probably appreciate him. What do you think?”

  “I am definitely attracted to him.”

  “So…?”

  “I’m considering it,” Lydia admitted.

  “Is that right?” Larissa sipped her tea, studying Lydia over the rim of her cup. “You’re thinking of having an affair with him?”

  “Let’s just say I’m open to the possibility.”

  “Are you thinking long-term here?”

  “I’m hardly in a position for that. You know how unsettled my career is right now. I don’t have my doctorate yet and I don’t even know where I’ll be living in the fall. I have résumés out from Berkeley to Boston and I’m getting replies from several places in between. I’m not even renewing my lease when it runs out July 1. This is no time for me to enter anything long-term.”

  “A fling, then.”

  Lydia didn’t really like that term, either, but she supposed it described what she was considering as well as any. “I don’t know, Larissa. I’m so busy and my time is split so many ways already. It’s probably best if Scott and I just remain friends.”

  If that was possible, she added silently, remembering the kisses that had spontaneously erupted between them the day before.

  “Then you’ll just have to decide whether it’s worth making the time, won’t you? And worth the risk of getting involved even temporarily with this lawyer.”

  “Larissa…”

  “Okay, I know his name. Scott. You’ll have to decide whether Scott is worth the risk. And you’ll have to decide on your own—I’ve promised to stay out of it.”

  Lydia smiled across the table at her beautiful, brilliant and bossy sister. “Just don’t stay too far away, sis.”

  Larissa
returned the smile with a very sweet one of her own. “You couldn’t keep me very far away. Even if you got yourself a lawyer.”

  Lydia couldn’t help but laugh.

  Scott all but dragged himself into his apartment Thursday evening, so tired from a long day in court and at his office that he could hardly put one foot in front of the other. He hated this lingering weakness left over from his illness. He’d managed to conceal it in front of his colleagues, but now that he was alone, he collapsed onto his bed and groaned. For a young man in supposedly excellent physical condition, he certainly was wiped out.

  He found himself wearily rephrasing an old Eric Clapton song—he’d fought the flu and the flu won.

  Finally recovering enough to move, he rolled to his side and punched the play button on his answering machine, which indicated that there was one message. The sound of Lydia’s voice reenergized him.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed to raise the volume.

  “Scott? Hi, it’s Lydia. I, um, just wanted to see how you’re feeling. And to see if maybe we can take in that movie you’ve mentioned this weekend. So anyway, give me a call when you have time. Bye.”

  The machine clicked to silence. Scott was smiling by the time the message ended, his exhaustion forgotten. He reached for the phone.

  Scott couldn’t quite figure out what Lydia was thinking on the following Saturday evening—the first time both of them had been free to get together. They had seen a movie—a fairly decent romantic comedy—and decided afterward to stop for ice cream. A casual evening, very low-key. No reason at all for Lydia to be nervous—and yet she seemed to be all evening. Why? Because this was their first “real” date? Because of the kisses they’d shared a few days earlier? Or because of the ones he hoped would come later?

  As he drove away from the ice-cream parlor, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting very straight, very still, in the passenger seat of his car, her hands linked tightly in her lap. Keeping his left hand on the wheel, he reached out to cover both of hers with his right. Her hands felt so cold. He curled his hand around hers, trying to warm her.

  “What’s wrong, Lydia?”

  “Nothing,” she assured him a bit too quickly.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s been a very nice evening.”

  “So you aren’t feeling the least uncomfortable right now?”

  “No, not at all.”

  He laughed and lifted her left hand to his lips. “Liar,” he murmured against her knuckles.

  She didn’t dignify the accusation with an answer—but he noticed that a small smile softened the corner of her mouth. He laced his fingers with hers and lowered their linked hands to the console between them. He was pleased that she didn’t seem to want to break that contact, her fingers curling lightly around his.

  He didn’t let her go until he turned into the parking lot of their apartment complex. He noted that she clenched her hands in her lap again as he pulled into his parking space. She looked suddenly nervous again. Oddly enough, he felt his own nerves suddenly thrumming.

  “How about some coffee?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, undemanding. “I can make some for us in only a few minutes.”

  He found himself holding his breath during the several long moments she hesitated. There was a lot more at stake than a cup of coffee—and they both knew it. Just as they knew the movie wasn’t the only reason they had gotten together that evening. The question was, had she reconsidered since she called him? He only hoped he could be gracious about it if she had, even though he would be extremely disappointed.

  Lydia finally broke the silence. “Make that decaf and you’re on.”

  He was pleased to note that her voice was firm and steady, no nervousness evident now. He wanted her to be very sure of the step they were taking. He wanted no regrets to spoil their special friendship.

  He opened his car door, and Lydia followed suit. They met again at the front of the car, and Scott took her hand again as he led her toward his apartment.

  Having been a nervous wreck all evening, Lydia was surprisingly calm when she stepped into Scott’s living room. She had made her choice, she thought with a deep, steadying breath. She wouldn’t change her mind.

  She spoke with a faint smile. “Scott?”

  He was already moving toward the kitchen. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  “I don’t really want any coffee.”

  Very slowly, he turned to face her, an expression in his eyes that made her heart suddenly start to beat faster. “What do you want, Lydia?”

  He was certainly putting her newfound confidence to the test. She lifted her chin, steadily meeting his gaze. “You.”

  His smile started slowly, deepening the corners of his mouth, then curving into a full, enticingly dimpled grin. “A good host tries to provide everything his guest desires.”

  It was just like him to make a joke when it was taking all her courage to keep from running and hiding behind a chair or something. She wrinkled her nose at him. “Just be quiet and come here.”

  He laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  A moment later, she was in his arms, and his mouth was on hers. The cocky humor was gone now. He kissed her with the urgency that had been simmering just beneath the surface between them all evening.

  Lydia locked her arms around his neck, parting her lips to deepen the kiss. She buried her hands in his hair, loving the softness and thickness of it. And then she lowered them, sliding her palms across his broad shoulders and down his back to his narrow waist. Every inch of him felt good to her. Perfect, actually. She’d never seen a more beautiful, more perfect man.

  And for tonight, she thought, pulling him closer, he was hers.

  He broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “Lydia,” he murmured, “you make my head spin.”

  She smiled. “Are you sure that’s not a lingering result of your flu?”

  “I do seem to have a fever again,” he acknowledged ruefully. “But this time it’s caused by you, not the flu.”

  He touched his lips to her forehead, then dragged them slowly to her temple and down the side of her face to the corner of her mouth. He left a trail of heat in his wake, making her face feel flushed and hot. “I think I have a fever, too,” she whispered against his lips.

  “You took care of me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

  She gasped in surprise when he swung her suddenly into his arms. Any worry she’d had about whether he’d fully recovered his strength was now assuaged. His arms were as solid as steel around her, supporting her so easily that she had no fear he would drop her as he moved toward his bedroom.

  “I’m perfectly capable of making this walk by your side,” she felt compelled to tell him.

  He paused to smile at her. “I know you are. Would you like to do so?”

  Her own smile felt tremulous. “No. I just wanted to make it clear.”

  Moments later, he set her on her feet beside the bed. “I have wanted this since you spilled your papers at my feet and I helped you pick them up,” he told her. “When we had those early dinners and talked about DNA, I sat there and marveled at how beautiful and brilliant you are. And I wanted you then.”

  She wasn’t beautiful. But she didn’t intend to argue with him about it now since she liked hearing him say it. “Are you telling me you had an ulterior motive when you suggested our ‘standby escort’ plan?”

  He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, leaving his fingertips at her temple. “Maybe not consciously. But I knew even then that I wanted to spend more time with you.”

  She figured his honesty should be reciprocated. “I kept telling myself—and everyone else—that I only wanted to be your friend. That there was not, and never would be, anything more between us. I almost convinced myself that was all I wanted it to be. It turned out I was lying—to everyone else, and to myself.”

  He leaned over to k
iss her, lingering until her lips warmed and softened beneath his. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Lydia McKinley. And I’m very glad we’ve decided to be more than friends.”

  She only hoped they would still be friends when the affair ended.

  Putting the fleeting fear out of her mind, she decided they had talked long enough. She reached out to release the top button of his shirt and then the next. She hadn’t been able to get the sight of his bare chest out of her mind; now she wanted to feel him beneath her hands.

  He stood very still and let her finish the task without interference. She took her time, savoring the pleasure of revealing him in magnificent inches. Pulling the shirt from the waistband of his slacks, she spread her hands beneath it, the light dusting of hair on his chest tickling her palms and making her smile. He felt so good that she thought he would probably taste even better. She leaned forward to find out.

  She felt the lazy amusement leave him with the first light nip of her teeth. By the time she had nibbled her way from his throat to his right nipple, he had visibly tensed. She ran her tongue across the firm, flat disk, secretly delighted when he quivered in reaction. She slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor at their feet. And then she reached for his belt buckle.

  Scott’s patience had obviously run out. Lydia found herself suddenly flat on her back on the bed, her sweater being pulled over her head, Scott’s mouth at her breasts. She didn’t want to think about the practice it must have taken for him to strip them both so swiftly and skillfully out of their clothes. For him to know exactly where and how to touch her to melt her bones and turn her brain to pudding. However he had attained his expertise, she could only be grateful now that he was sharing it so generously with her.

  He explored her with his hands, his mouth, his body, until she demanded more. Efficiently donning protection, he gave her everything she asked for—and so much more.

  Sensations cascaded through her like fireworks in a summer sky, glittering so brightly they were almost painful in their beauty and intensity. Exploding into brilliant bursts of feelings and emotions that made her cry out in helpless wonder.

  And then she gathered her strength and created a few fireworks of her own. There was a deep sense of satisfaction when she pulled a hoarse groan from deep within Scott’s chest.