Mountain Laurel

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Mountain Laurel Page 9

by Fasano, Donna


  "Michael?" His name left her throat in a faint breathy whisper. His light kiss on her earlobe almost made her sigh.

  "We're being watched," he explained. "Eric's across the street."

  Laurel's eyes snapped open. Michael was putting on a show for Ginny's friend Eric. Of course, he was. Why else would he kiss her and touch her so intimately? Wow, he was good at this play acting thing. Ignoring the burning disappointment that filled her, she realized she was going to have to stay on her toes. Getting caught up in the moment was utterly foolish, she realized, locking her knees to stop their quaking.

  What was wrong with her? If someone were witnessing her reaction to him, she might be accused of being in love with the man or something.

  In love? That was ridiculous! She barely knew him.

  When Michael straightened, they both swiveled their gazes across the street to see Eric watching them. The gangly teen lifted his hand in greeting and Michael did the same. Laurel stood there unable to move, needing the time to collect her wits.

  "Do you think he'll see Ginny today?" Michael asked.

  Laurel could only nod.

  "But do you think he'll tell her what he saw?"

  Again she nodded.

  "That's great!" His mouth split into a wide smile and he clapped Laurel on the back. "Let's go have breakfast. I've worked up a hefty appetite."

  He didn't notice Laurel's clenched jaw or her tight fists as she walked beside him.

  When the waitress brought plates of fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon and steaming biscuits, Laurel's stomach growled. She and Michael had been discussing their friendly conspiracy.

  After the way she'd felt when Michael had told her why he was kissing her, she thought she'd never be able to eat. But his affable banter on the way to the family diner where they now sat helped her nerves to calm and her tensed muscles to relax. She was relieved that he hadn't seemed to notice her profound reaction to his faked attentions.

  His easy, jovial behavior after their little 'love scene' cemented a reminder in her brain that she wouldn't soon forget: Michael's conduct in front of the boutique had been one friend helping another, nothing more. And it was clear to her now just how important his friendship was to her. Too important to jeopardize by some silly adolescent crush, or whatever it was she was feeling. She had to make sure she kept her emotions in check around him. It was too easy to get caught up in the seeming romance they were trying to conjure. Much too easy.

  "I think we'll be able to pull this thing off," Michael said between bites. "How about you?"

  She nodded. Placing her fork down on the table, she leaned on her elbows, staring at him intently. "Michael, I really do appreciate this. I want you to know that."

  "I do." His eyes crinkled with a warm smile.

  He wiped his hands on a napkin and placed it on the table. "Oh, I forgot. I have to work a couple of nights this week, but that's no problem. You can come with me."

  "To work?"

  "I won't work you too hard," he said, grinning. "The campers staying in the park like to sit around a bonfire some evenings listening to legends and ghost stories."

  "Sounds fun," she remarked. "You want me to build the fire? Or tell the stories?"

  He threw his head back, laughing. "Neither," he said. "Just be there. You could listen if you like."

  Michael could barely restrain his urge to reach across the table and take her hand as they talked. The feel of her soft skin against his had seemed so right.

  As they'd toured the town earlier, he'd wanted to wrap his arm possessively around her slender shoulders. But he'd reminded himself that he had come to her as a friend, nothing more, and to take her in his arms would have been out of line.

  But, seeing Eric across the street, he knew a great opportunity when he saw one, and his natural instincts had taken over. He could still feel the silkiness of her cheek against his own, see the supple creaminess of her neck, smell the perfume of her thick hair.

  Wondering what exactly he'd gotten himself into, Michael gazed across at Laurel and smiled.

  Chapter Six

  "Did you ever in your life imagine that we'd be going on a double date?" Ginny nudged Laurel out of the way and peered into the bathroom mirror.

  "Never," Laurel admitted, lowering the mascara wand she held in her hand.

  "This is great, though." After examining her reflection intently, Ginny pulled a strand of hair down over one eye. "Don't you think so?"

  "Yep, just great. But it'd be even better if you'd let me get ready," Laurel quipped.

  Ginny sat down on the edge of the tub.

  Having free reign of the mirror once again, Laurel finished coating her eyelashes, then quickly ran the brush through her softly curling hair.

  "Do you think you're dressed up enough?" Ginny eyed her sister up and down. "I mean, this is a date."

  Laurel set the brush on the countertop. She looked down at the warm wool sweater she wore and smoothed her palms on the thighs of her soft corduroys.

  "Ginny, in case you haven't noticed, it's cold outside. And we're going to a parade." Glancing at Ginny's thin black stretch pants, Laurel remarked, "You may be the epitome of fashion, but you're going to freeze your little buns off."

  "Eric'll keep me warm."

  Laurel's lips twisted dubiously and she shook her head.

  The knock at the door made both girls' heads turn.

  "You get it," Ginny whispered excitedly, hopping up and running to the mirror. "I want to make a grand entrance."

  Laurel laughed to herself at Ginny's ebullience. There was nothing in the world that would make her want to be a teenager again. But, if she were honest, she'd have to admit to a fluttering in her own stomach. It wasn't the date that worried her. It was whether or not she and Michael could pull it off. Fooling Eric from afar was one thing, but putting one over on Ginny, up close and personal as this double 'date' would be, was going to be quite another. Laurel was afraid her sister would take one look at them and recognize the whole thing for the hoax it was.

  But when she opened the door and saw Michael's crooked smile, her fear melted like a crusty autumn frost under the warmth of the morning sun. What replaced it was a strong current of awareness that made her heart pound and her breath catch in her throat.

  She swallowed, then ran her tongue over her lips before returning his smile and inviting him in. After he stepped inside the cabin, she pushed at the door to close it and felt it hit something solid.

  "Eric!" She pulled the door open wider. "I'm sorry! I didn't see you. Come in."

  "We met in the drive."

  Michael's rich voice floated over her, drawing her gaze. The golden flecks glinting in his sable eyes distressed her. Did he feel the magnetic pull between them? Or was he just laughing at her?

  "And we're both a little early." Michael's tone held more than a hint of humor.

  He was laughing! Well she'd show him that she could play, too.

  "Eager, huh?" she asked silkily.

  His eyes narrowed a fraction. "Oh, yeah."

  Michael came close and she instinctively slid both her hands onto his broad chest. The fabric of his shirt couldn't hide the firm muscles beneath it. When he cupped her elbows in his palms and stared down at her, seemingly lost in a visual feast, her heart raced. Overwhelming emotions made it difficult for her to breathe.

  Eric cleared his throat. Laurel blinked twice then heard his long, low whistle when Ginny entered the room.

  While the teens were busy with their greeting and safely out of earshot, Laurel whispered to Michael, "You ever audition for Broadway?"

  "Is that a compliment?"

  "Let's just say I won't worry about Ginny seeing through you."

  "I'm glad. That's what I'm here for—to put your mind at ease." Michael left her to join the others in exchanging quiet pleasantries. Laurel watched the smooth movements of his body as he sat down and felt drawn to follow.

  Standing behind him, she placed her hands on his shoulders.
He immediately reached up, without pausing in his conversation with Ginny, his strong fingers encircling her wrists. He tugged at them until she was forced to bend over, her face next to his.

  He crossed his arms, holding on to her tightly, and his lips grazed her skin as he said, "I think we should get ready to go."

  Laurel sucked in her breath and tensed the muscle that ran between her shoulder and neck as she made an effort to pull away from him.

  "She's real ticklish," Ginny informed him, giggling.

  Michael laughed, holding her captive long enough to kiss her cheek, and then released her. Standing, he stepped around the chair in time to watch Laurel shiver involuntarily and rub at her neck.

  "You rat." Laurel glared at him halfheartedly but quickly joined in the laughter.

  "Well, I'm ready." Ginny grabbed her coat.

  "Do you think you'll be warm enough?" Eric asked.

  "I'll be fine," Ginny assured him as she sauntered out the door.

  Michael helped Laurel into her coat. Leaning down close to her ear again, he said, "I'd like to see you poured into a pair of those pants."

  "Oh?" She gave him a mock-angry look.

  "It's a compliment. Believe me."

  "You're impossible. You know that, don't you?"

  "I certainly do."

  The sleepy little town of Oakland had been radically transformed. The usually quiet streets were filled with noisy people and ablaze with light. Banners flapped in the chilly evening breeze. People crowded along the sidewalks, searching for the best vantage point from which to view the parade. Children clutched colorful helium balloons in tight fists. One toddler cried as he watched his drift into the night sky.

  Before they'd even found a spot to stop and watch, Michael called to a street vendor and bought a large bag of pink cotton candy. Ripping the plastic, he offered some to Laurel.

  "When I was little," Ginny said, "Laurel would never let me eat that stuff. She told me it would rot my teeth."

  "But what's a parade without cotton candy?" Michael pulled a tiny piece of the pink fluff from the bag and held it to Laurel's lips.

  She opened her mouth, and in an intimate gesture, he placed the candy on her tongue. It melted on contact and Laurel swallowed.

  "Tell yourself that it's good for you," Michael said, nudging her along the walkway. "This stuff is chock- full of vitamins, you know."

  Laurel pursed her lips and shook her head as she reached for another taste. Laughing was so easy when she was with him.

  They found a four-foot-high brick wall and decided to watch the parade from there. Michael's hands closed around her waist as he helped her onto it. Eric did the same for Ginny.

  Michael hiked himself up beside Laurel, his thigh pressed tightly against hers. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she felt warm and cozy. He was busy nuzzling her cheek with his nose when Eric pulled his attention away with something he said.

  Laurel filled her lungs with crisp air and thought about how good it felt to be out in the crowd. She saw people every day when she was working in the shop back home, lots of people. But that was different. Customers expected to be waited on. Here she was just one of the spectators and could enjoy what was happening around her like everyone else.

  She released a pent-up breath and her shoulders relaxed. It was wonderful to be away from the drudgery of working in the shop. The thought came from nowhere and stiffened her spine with guilt.

  I love my work. But the thought came with too much hesitation for her to ignore. The shrill whistle of the band marshal had her shoving the disturbing thought aside. She'd analyze it tomorrow; tonight she had a parade to enjoy. Snuggling against Michael, she let the excitement wash over her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been to a parade.

  Laurel never knew fire equipment came in so many different colors. The usual red and white didn't surprise her, but yellow, pale green and light blue?

  "It seems endless," Ginny commented.

  "Fire stations from four states participate in this parade." Michael reached for Laurel's hand, covering her cold fingers with his warm palm. "Let me get you some cocoa."

  "I'd love some."

  Michael and Eric hopped off the wall and went for the hot drinks. Laurel looked over at Ginny, whose teeth had begun to chatter.

  "I hate to say I told you so."

  "Then don't," Ginny snapped.

  "Do you want to leave?"

  "Maybe in a few minutes." Ginny's shoulders started to shiver.

  "Do you want my coat?"

  "No," Ginny said brusquely. "It'll make me look fat."

  Laurel stared in disbelief. "I don't believe you!"

  "Sometimes you have to give up comfort to look good."

  Opening her mouth to tell Ginny just how stupid that sounded, Laurel shut it again as Michael and Eric returned.

  She wrapped her hands around the white foam cup Michael offered her, its heat seeping into her chilled fingers. Smiling her thanks, she lifted the cup to sniff the chocolaty steam.

  "It's delicious," she said after taking a sip. "Michael, we're going to have to go soon."

  He nodded. "Ginny's doing a good imitation of an ice cube."

  With all four cups of cocoa empty, Laurel suggested once again that they be on their way.

  Getting through the crowd was not easy, and it took several minutes before they reached Laurel's car. Once there, Ginny planted herself in front of the driver's door.

  "Give me the keys, Laurel," Ginny demanded. "I want to drive."

  Laurel handed them over without argument, realizing her sister must be anxious to get the hottest blast from the heater.

  "Thanks!" Slipping into the car, Ginny started the engine and flipped on the heater's fan. "I have a surprise for you," she said over the noise, looking at Laurel in the rear-view mirror.

  "What?" Laurel's breath condensed to lacy vapor in the darkness.

  "You'll see."

  Frowning at her sister's teasing tone, Laurel looked over at Michael only to see him shrug. She folded her arms across her chest, her frown still in place.

  Michael pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

  "Would you relax?" he whispered against her hair. "It's not three against one here. I'm on your side, remember? And there's no surprise that you and I can't handle."

  He was right. She was overreacting. A smile curved her lips and she leaned back against him. His arms nestled under her breasts and she rested her head on his shoulder. They were content to sit quietly, listening to the muffled voices in the front seat.

  Ginny snapped the radio on, filling the interior of the car with a slow, bluesy rhythm. Laurel closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her.

  Engulfed in Michael's warmth, Laurel felt every muscle in her body relax. The heady scent of his aftershave combined with the warm leather aroma of his jacket seemed to intoxicate her. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. A dull ache slowly gathered inside her and she opened her eyes, looking up at Michael's jaw. Suppressing the strong desire to reach up and kiss it was easier than controlling the languorous smile that played on her lips.

  She was so content in Michael's snug embrace that she was barely aware of just when the car stopped and the purring engine died. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ginny slide across the seat toward Eric. Startled, Laurel jerked out of Michael's embrace to sit stiffly on the edge of her seat.

  She was astonished that she hadn't even noticed when Ginny had turned off the main road. The car was parked on a narrow dirt trail. The headlights were off, and the parking lights threw a dim glow over the trees. Twisting around to look at Michael, she was further aggravated by his cocked eyebrow and the stupid grin planted firmly on his mouth.

  "Ginny, may I speak to you?" This was no question; it was a command. Laurel slid toward the door, opening it as she spoke.

  A sound of protest came from Ginny, but Laurel cut it off immediately.

  "Now."
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  Ginny shuffled out of the car and shut the door. She stood with arms crossed, irritation plain in her stance.

  "What are you doing?" Laurel hissed.

  "What do you mean?" Confusion was plain on Ginny's brow.

  "I mean, what are you doing?" Laurel planted a fist on her hip, anger increasing the volume of her words.

  Ginny leaned against the car, her eyes narrowing with annoyance. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

  "There are four of us."

  "So?"

  "Ginny, you can't expect me to sit in there and watch you and Eric neck."

  "I don't expect you to watch. I expect you and Michael to entertain yourselves!"

  They stood glaring at each other for several moments.

  "You are such a prude, Laurel."

  But Laurel didn't budge.

  "Ten minutes, Laurel. Can you survive ten minutes?" Ginny pulled at the door handle and slipped into the car.

  The silent forest pressed in on her from both sides of the narrow dirt road. Laurel still stood there, unable to move. Fury made her jaw tense. She wasn't a randy teen, and the idea of fumbling around in the back seat did not appeal to her whatsoever. She was sure she would enjoy kissing Michael, being kissed by him. But that wasn't the point. This situation was too much. Wrestling in the back seat was above and beyond the call of duty.

  The problem was solved as Michael stepped out of the car and came around it to face her. The suggestive smirk he'd given her earlier was gone, replaced by a look of soft understanding.

  "You still think we can handle any surprise?" she asked, her voice low, unsure.

  He nodded once.

  She glanced past him into the darkness. "I can't believe this."

  "What? That we can handle this? Or—" he covered her wrist with his big, warm hand "—that teenagers go parking?"

  His teasing question didn't lift her mood. He pulled her away from the car, walking several feet to a towering pine.

  "I must have missed something along the way. I mean, Ginny's doing things I never even thought about."

  His eyebrows lifted. "You never went parking?" he quipped.

  "Michael, I'm serious." Leaning against the rough bark of the tall pine, she slowly rolled a large brown cone under her foot as she continued. "Who had time for that? Not me. Up at six to fix breakfast, take care of Mom, open the shop, wait on customers—then, you know, closing time is dinnertime, and when that mess is over, Mom needs me again. Then Ginny—school, homework, drama club, dance lessons. God, it's endless."

 

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