She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. “I have a grown child,” she blurted out, expecting to see shock or disapproval on his face.
His shrug held neither. “I know. I’ve seen a picture of the two of you on Chief Oldham’s desk.”
Her hands gripped the steering wheel. In the ten years since her divorce, she hadn’t dated. Period. She’d been a full-time mom, her entire focus on Debra. Even when her daughter had ceased to need her as much, Sherry had always been available. She’d worked a part-time job at the animal shelter to bring in some extra cash, but the vet knew that in any kind of crisis, Sherry’s daughter came first.
She’d lived the life of a nun, still paying penance for an adolescent mistake. If there had been men interested in her, she hadn’t noticed.
Randy crouched beside the car. Now his face was even with her breasts. Slowly, perhaps waiting for her to reject his overture, he reached out and pulled her left hand from where it had a death grip on the steering wheel.
His thumb stroked the back of her hand. Sweet glory. Her skin was on fire.
He watched her face as he toyed with her fingers. “You haven’t answered me,” he said, his voice husky.
The uneven timbre made her shiver. “I don’t think this is a very good idea.” Her lips formed the correct words, but some long-buried part of her was shouting out, trying to be heard, Give him a chance.
Now his brash grin was lopsided. “I think it’s a damn good idea, Sherry.”
The way he said her name made something deep inside her unfurl and awaken. She struggled with her conscience. It would be wrong to go out with him. Wouldn’t it?
While she was still trying to make up her mind, he leaned in, one hand on her thigh for balance, and kissed her. It was a brief, rather chaste brush of the lips. But it rocked her world. How sad was it that she hadn’t been kissed romantically in a decade?
She felt like a dried-up old woman. Near tears at the beauty of what one brief kiss had brought back. Tenderness. Sexual awareness. Exploration. Hope.
He backed away and stood up. Had she responded? She wasn’t even sure. Without thinking, she raised her hand to her lips, trying to feel the heat that tingled there. He must think she was mentally challenged.
Randy smiled down at her. Not a cocky “I know you want me” smile. But something sweeter. Something more real. Something profound.
He persisted, even in the face of her stunned silence. “Will you go out with me tonight?”
She bit her bottom lip, excitement and fear battling for supremacy. “Where would we go?”
Her naive question coaxed another smile from him. “Somewhere nice . . . maybe in Knoxville.”
His answer settled her nerves. It was unlikely that they would run into anyone she knew if they were forty-five minutes away from home.
Still she dithered. “Why?” she asked baldly. She knew she was being socially clumsy, but everything about this was new to her, and clearly, his age worried her.
He took a deep breath. “You’re a beautiful woman. I’d like to get to know you.”
“Ethan might not approve of me getting involved with someone at the station.”
His lips quirked. “I’ve already asked him. He gave his blessing.”
She felt her face heat. Her baby brother knew about this. God, it was mortifying. Was Ethan amused by the odd pair she and Randy would make?
She tried one last time to dissuade him. “I don’t really date.”
“Good,” he said, his tone smug. “I won’t have to worry about fending off the competition.”
She rolled her eyes. “Believe me, you’re safe on that score.”
He stepped back and closed her door. The window was still down, and when he leaned in this time, their faces were close enough for another kiss.
But Randy Temple was a strategist. He left her yearning for more. Instead, he brushed her cheek with a finger. “I’ll pick you up at six o’clock.”
And then he turned around and walked back into the building.
Eight
Sherry stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door and fought back semihysterical laughter. She had no date clothes.
She had mom clothes . . . and church clothes . . . and even a few outfits that were suitable for dealing with sick animals. But she had nothing remotely appropriate for a date with a handsome man like Randy Temple.
She glanced at her watch. It was already four thirty, so making a dash to buy something new was out of the question, even if she’d wanted to spend the money.
There was only one other option.
In the last two weeks, she had avoided going into Debra’s bedroom, because of the panic it invoked. If she faced the fact that Debra was moving out for good, she had to admit that her life was in a tailspin.
If she wasn’t a mom, what was she?
It took courage to open the door. The instant she crossed the threshold, Deb’s signature apple scent filled her nostrils. Sherry’s lips trembled, but she clamped her jaw. This was no time for a meltdown. Randy would be on her doorstep in a little over an hour. She had to be ready, because she sure as heck wasn’t the kind of sophisticated woman who would invite him in for a drink before they left. She wouldn’t know what to say or do.
It would probably be several weeks before Debra could get away from her new school long enough to come back to Statlerville to pack up her stuff. In the meantime, her closets were still bulging . . . particularly with winter clothes. After all, there wasn’t much need in Tampa for wool sweaters and heavy coats.
Which meant Sherry had a lot to choose from.
After ten minutes of paralysis as she rifled through neon pinks and blinding lime greens and gaudy turquoise prints, she finally gave a sigh of relief. On a padded hanger near the back of the closet was a simple black cashmere turtleneck. The tags were still attached.
Barry’s wife had picked it out for Debra for Christmas a year ago. It was a thoughtful gift, expensive and classic, but Sherry’s extrovert daughter had never been one to blend into the background. So the sweater hung, unworn.
Sherry was pretty sure Debra would never miss it.
She took the sweater back to her bedroom and put it on over a seamless bra. Then she stood there shivering in her panties as she dithered over what to pair the sweater with. A dark khaki corduroy skirt, seldom worn, caught her eye. The fitted waist was flattering, and the hemline would look good with the black boots Deb had given her for Christmas.
They had opened their gifts early, since Deb was going south for the holidays. Sherry had ooohed and ahhhed over the butter-soft knee-high leather boots, but in her mind, she couldn’t ever imagine wearing them.
They were sexy. There. She said it out loud. And the last thing she felt these days was sexy.
She stepped into the skirt and zipped it up. Then she wriggled her legs into silky panty hose and put on the boots. The woman in the mirror was a stranger. Although the sweater was a turtleneck—no provocative neckline—it hugged her breasts far more than anything she normally wore out in public. The skirt showed off her narrow waist and curvy hips, and in the boots, her legs looked long and feminine.
Before she could change her mind and her clothes, she raced to the bathroom and started applying makeup. She rarely bothered with her looks, so adding eyeshadow, mascara, and lip gloss felt over the top.
But when her shaking hands completed the task and she looked in the mirror, she was reassured by her reflection. Her green eyes looked big and mysterious, her lips soft and sensual.
She felt near tears suddenly. How long had it been since she deliberately made herself look pretty?
Biting back the unwelcome emotion, she returned to her bedroom and picked out a handbag that matched the boots. With her black wool coat, she was ready.
She left the coat on the chair by the front door and paced nervously. What did women do while waiting to be picked up for a date?
The small house was clean from top
to bottom. She was a meticulous housekeeper. And she had burned a candle earlier, so the air smelled of jasmine and lemon. But she wasn’t going to ask Randy to come in. Was she?
By the time he actually rang the bell, she was a mess. She opened the door, half inclined to tell him she had to stay home. The cat was having kittens. The cable guy was on the way to fix a faulty wire. Her checkbook was out of balance. She couldn’t miss American Idol. Any one of a number of excuses came to mind.
But all she managed to say was a weak hello.
Randy’s eyes widened when he saw her, and the smile faded from his face. “Wow . . . Sherry . . . you look . . . amazing.” He seemed to be having trouble stringing words together.
His lack of composure comforted her. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one feeling off balance.
On the drive into Knoxville, they chatted about innocuous topics. There were plenty of places to eat in Statlerville, but Sherry was glad Randy had opted to take her a little farther afield, where they weren’t likely to run into anyone they knew. She was very self-conscious about his age . . . and hers.
Not that she was old enough to be his mother, or even close. But in terms of life experience, she felt terribly ancient.
She’d expected him to take her to one of the well-known up-scale restaurants for a fancy dinner. But instead, they took an unfamiliar road that led down to the banks of the Tennessee River. The riverfront was lit up with lights along a walking path, and the water reflected the illuminated signs for a couple of small restaurants.
Even then, she still didn’t get it.
Randy parked and helped her out of the car. He led her to the dock, where a small riverboat was tied up. It was a two-story affair very popular in the spring and summer for hosting weddings and proms.
On a dark, cold January night, it rocked slowly in the frigid water, a bit forlorn.
Randy took her hand. “I wanted to have a chance for us to get to know each other,” he said solemnly. “And a noisy restaurant didn’t sound appealing. So I rented the riverboat for a few hours.”
Her eyebrows rose. “The whole boat?”
He shrugged. “It’s not exactly peak season. The guy cut me a deal.”
As they boarded, the captain and copilot introduced themselves. No other staff members were on board. Randy led her down two steps into the main cabin. In nice weather, the large windows would be open wide. But tonight, the medium-size room was snug and warm.
On the far wall, a table and two chairs had been set up beside the largest window, giving a view of the water and the bridges in the distance. Randy hadn’t gone overboard with anything that could be construed as inappropriate for a first date. But their meal, warming beneath metal covers, was already in place.
Sherry was startled when the engines kicked in. Soon she felt the steady thrum as the boat moved slowly away from the dock.
Randy held out a hand. “Are you hungry?”
She was—starving, in fact. She took off her coat and put it and her purse on a nearby bench. Randy helped seat her, and she shook out her heavy cloth napkin and spread it on her lap. “I’m impressed.”
He grinned at her, taking the chair opposite her at the small round table. “Well, the food won’t compare to what you can do. You cook like a professional chef. But I was hoping to make up for it with the ambience.”
She laughed softly, charmed in spite of herself. It was immensely flattering that he had gone to so much trouble. As they ate, she really didn’t pay much attention to the meal at all. The chicken dish was good, but she was too nervous to enjoy much of it.
Little by little, watching the inky, slumberous river as they drifted along, Sherry forgot to be self-conscious. Randy was easy to be with.
By the time they reached dessert, Sherry was wondering why she had felt so reluctant to accept this date. This was nice. Two adults sharing a meal and conversation. Nothing to get all worked up over.
Randy took a sip of his beer. They had a bottle of white wine, but Sherry wasn’t much of a drinker and had stuck mostly to ice water. He was studying her face with an intensity that made her feel self-conscious.
She shoved her hair behind her ear. It was loose tonight, and she had taken the time to curl it. Which was a lot more work than throwing it up in her customary ponytail, but she was glad she had gone to the trouble. The appreciation in Randy’s eyes made it all worthwhile. “What?” she asked with a little laugh. “Do I have spinach in my teeth?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about your daughter.” The gentle sincerity in his gaze surprised her. In past experience, most men were not at all interested in hearing about a woman’s excess baggage. Which was why she basically hadn’t dated for ten years.
She smiled slightly. “Debra recently turned twenty. After finishing up at the community college, she decided to complete her four-year degree in Tampa and then stay there for graduate work in marine biology. She’ll be living with her dad.”
“You miss her.” He cut to the heart of the matter with surprising ease.
She nodded, relieved to know she could talk about it without tears. “It’s been just the two of us ever since my husband and I divorced when she was ten. I guess you can do the math. I got pregnant at seventeen, became a mom at eighteen. It was difficult, of course. And Barry and I tried to make it work. But rarely can you base a marriage on teenage hormones and expect it to last. He’s happy now. His new wife is a nice woman. She’s been good to Debra. That’s my story, I guess.”
“Did you ever think of giving her up for adoption? When you first found out, I mean.”
“Never. It was a difficult period of my life—one I never really stopped paying for, I guess. But I’ve never once regretted Debra. She’s been my life.”
“I admire you,” he said quietly. “Small-town gossip can be cruel.”
How did he know? She rarely thought about those early days. It was a rough time, one she didn’t care to dwell on. “Yes, it can,” she said slowly. “I thought I’d never get past the whispers, the pointed stares.”
She clenched her hands in her lap to stop them from shaking. “What about you? I heard you moved here because you loved the mountains.”
His half smile was shadowed by some unnamed emotion. “That’s true as far as it goes,” he said slowly. “But the real reason was to get away from my dad.”
Her stomach clenched. “Abuse?”
His eyes were bleak. “Not the way you mean. I had just graduated from the police academy when it came out that my father, a local judge, had been taking bribes and kickbacks. Here I was, practically shining my pretty new badge every morning, ready to take on all the bad guys in the town. . . .” His throat worked, and he fell silent.
She winced inwardly. “And he was one of them.”
“Yeah.” He stared at his plate. “I hated him for a while. He humiliated my whole family. And I don’t think he ever really thought he was doing anything wrong.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Randy. That must have been agonizing.”
“I couldn’t stay. He served a few months of a sentence, and once he was back home, I took off. Ended up in Statlerville.” His lips crooked. “Your brother has gone a long way toward restoring my faith in the process.”
“Ethan is a wonderful man, but he works too hard.”
“It must run in the family. I’ve never seen you slow down yet.” His teasing lightened the mood. He held out a hand. “Do you feel like dancing?”
“Dancing?” She stared at him blankly. It might as well have been a foreign word.
He tugged her to her feet. “It will come back to you.” He flipped a switch on something that looked like an intercom, and suddenly, slow, romantic music filled the room.
She stood stiffly in his embrace. God, how long had it been since she danced? Probably her junior prom. She’d missed her senior prom because her baby was suffering from colic.
She pushed away the memories. Concentrated instead on the feel of Randy’s warm, har
d body aligned with hers. He held her close, but not too tightly. After a few awkward steps, she exhaled and let her spine relax a fraction. The sensation of being enfolded in a man’s arms was something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
They danced forever, it seemed, lost in a private bubble engendered by the empty boat, the lovely meal, and the evocative music.
They talked now and then, but the silences were comfortable. She learned the way his smile felt against her cheek, registered the appealing rasp of his slight stubble. He’d barely had time to get home and change clothes, much less shave. But she liked it. It suited his masculinity. And the differences between them made her breathless.
She noticed his erection early on. He didn’t make a big deal about it, and neither did she. The connection between them was new but very real.
And the fact that he wanted her made her feel . . . well, something. She couldn’t pin it down. There was caution, of course. That was ingrained in her nature. But there was also something very tenuous and fragile—a gentle curl of anticipation.
Everything inside her melted and went soft in response to his obvious need. He was every inch the gentleman, but in his ragged breathing and the steady thump of his heartbeat, she felt his hunger.
Laying her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and floated. It was lovely to be wooed, to feel the endless possibilities. She’d lost out on all of that because of one immature mistake.
One for which she had paid dearly. Despite the joy she’d had in being a mom, she’d never really experienced being any man’s one and only. Barry had tried. So had she. But the love wasn’t there. Affection, yes. At least in the beginning. And a certain amount of physical compatibility . . . when they weren’t too tired from going to school and caring for a baby. But never any of the emotions the songwriters touted. No romance.
Sherry was not naive. This thing Randy felt for her would burn itself out. She was nine years older than he was. He deserved to find love with a woman his own age, get married, travel, start a family.
Even if she allowed herself to fall for him, she couldn’t cheat him out of a normal life. Following complications after Deb’s birth, Sherry had been forced to have a hysterectomy. It had broken her heart, but she had made peace with it, particularly when it became clear that she and Barry wouldn’t be staying together.
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