Once More From the Top (The Women of Willow Bay)

by Nan Reinhardt

  “You’d had sex with that man and you say you didn’t have any dreams? Cripes, Carrie, what about him? He’s a dream.”

  “Jules, we’d known each other a week.” Carrie drew the razor up her calf. “I didn’t want to be following him around the world, waiting in hotel rooms and backstage until he got tired of me and moved on. That’s exactly what would have happened if I’d told him. I especially didn’t want that life with a baby. There’s no way we could have made it work.”

  “Why didn’t you have an abortion?” As usual, Julie went for the blunt question.

  Carrie didn’t hesitate. “I couldn’t. That was never an option.”

  “You were in love with him?”

  Meeting her friend’s probing gaze straight on, Carrie admitted, “I was nuts about him. It was heaven, and I love—um—loved him so much it hurt. But we never would have made it. Love wasn’t enough. With a baby, I needed security, and he needed to follow his dream. It was doomed from the start.”

  “Why?” Julie leaned forward earnestly. “Look at you. You’re already glowing and he hasn’t been in town twenty-four hours.” She sat back with a knowing smirk. “He’s already kissed you, hasn’t he?”

  “The glow is from this hot bath, dummy. Get real.” Carrie busied herself with the other leg.

  Julie’s eyes narrowed. “Shit. Now you’re blushing. He did kiss you, didn’t he?” She stamped her feet, chortling. “Oh, good God!”

  Carrie’s cheeks burned. She focused on the razor.

  “Was it hot?” Julie persisted.

  “Okay, he kissed me on the beach this morning. But first it was anger and then sympathy, nothing more.” Carrie confessed without raising her eyes. “I told him about Jack and of course, I cried. He was furious, but I also think he felt sorry for me.”

  “Did he use his tongue?” Julie asked, standing up to look through the assortment of makeup on the vanity.

  “Oh, my God, Julianne. Are we in junior high here? I cannot believe you asked me that.” Carrie glowered at her friend. She finished shaving and dropped her leg back in the sudsy water.

  “Ha! He did. I knew it. I saw how he was staring at you earlier.” Julie looked at her in the mirror and winked. “It wasn’t sympathy, honey. Sympathy never involves a man putting his tongue down your throat.” She opened a compact of blusher and brushed pink across her already faultless cheekbones. “How did he react to the news about Jack?”

  “Pissed beyond words. Then he cried.” Carrie’s saw Julie’s eyes on her in the mirror. “Well, not sobbing or anything, just a few tears.”

  Very touching and sexy tears.

  “Seriously? How’d you even tell him? Was he freaked?” Julie smudged shadow onto her eyelids, but Carrie could tell she was measuring her reactions.

  “He was freaked alright.” Carrie rolled her eyes. “I didn’t tell him. He found Jack’s picture in the bait shop. But that was after I saw him in the Grind.” Bubbles floated as Carrie expelled a breath. “I just acted casual this morning. I never even mentioned Jack. So when he dropped that bomb on the beach later, I was ready for him to be furious—and he was. But I never expected him to be so hurt. I mean stabbed-in-the-heart hurt—” She put her hand on her chest. “—because I’d kept Jack from him. Even more hurt that I’ve never told Jack who his father is.”

  “Do you blame him?” Julie sounded infuriatingly reasonable. “After all, how would you feel if you found out you had a fifteen-year-old son you knew nothing about? Who knew nothing about you?”

  “I’d be mad as hell and hurt,” Carrie admitted. “I guess I don’t blame him.” She didn’t blame him, but she hoped he’d see her reasoning soon. He was Jack’s father and keeping them apart was wrong. She regretted it, but she had no idea how to make it up to either of them, except to try to make the transition from strangers to father and son as easy as possible. Liam had every right to be furious with her, but now that he was here, she couldn’t bear him being unhappy with her.

  Not when he can still light a fire in me with a look. Dear God, I have to get myself under control.

  And there was so much more she had to confess, she really hoped he could cool off and understand.

  “How do you think Jack’s going to react?” Julie sat back down on the toilet seat.

  Carrie blinked and shook her head. “I have absolutely no clue. None.”

  “I think he’ll be thrilled to know his father. Margie told me a couple of months ago that he said something to her and Noah about trying to find him when he turned eighteen.”

  “He said that?” She was floored. Jack had never mentioned anything about finding his father to her, even though she knew he had to be curious.

  “Well, yeah. Did you think he never wonders?” Julie’s blue eyes darkened in the artificial light of the bathroom. “You’d get Mom of the Year anytime, Caro, but it’s only natural for him to wonder about his father.”

  “I assumed he thought about it. I’ve considered telling him, but I’m such a damn coward.” Carrie wrung out the plushy net sponge and hung it over the spigot. “Mostly, I couldn’t face Liam again. He makes me feel so… I don’t even have a word for it.” She gave her a friend a little helpless shrug.

  “Turned on?” Julie offered with a grin. “Horny? Hot?”

  Carrie couldn’t help laughing. “Yep, all those things and more. But you know, our issues are still the same as they were before.” She shoved the drain open with her toe. With a loud gurgle, the tub began emptying. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still not gonna follow him around the world, waiting backstage, even if he might possibly want me to. And I’m most certainly not going to allow him to take Jack anywhere with him.”

  “Carrie, he just got here, and you’re already borrowing trouble. You’re still in love with him.” Julie tossed her a bath towel. “Don’t deny it. After all this time, you are still as hot for him now as you were then.”

  “What if I am? What good is it going to do me?” Carrie caught the towel and wrapped it around herself. “Noah said he’s only rented that berth until the end of July. I have no idea how he even feels about me right now. He’s pissed, but he’s being decent—only because he wants to see Jack.”

  “So when does that happen?”

  “Actually, I’m hoping I can convince him to wait until Sunday. I’m having dinner with him tonight on that boat.” She jerked her thumb in the general direction of the docks as she stepped out onto the bath mat. “I need to get a feel for what Liam’s thinking about me before I bring Jack into the picture.”

  Julie gave her a puzzled glance and then sighed. “You aren’t going to convince him of anything if you intend to wear those khaki pants and that powder-blue granny twin set you have laid out on the bed.” She opened the glass door of the shower stall that butted up to the garden tub. “Hop in the shower, rinse off, and wash your hair, kid. I’ll find you something to wear that will knock his socks off.”

  Carrie dropped the towel and slipped into the shower, turning on the water full blast. She pivoted slowly to rinse the bubbles off her shoulders. “What’s wrong with the blue twin set? I just bought it.”

  “Yeah, well, it isn’t exactly enticing.” Julie’s voice floated in from the bedroom. Carrie imagined her rooting through the closet.

  She shampooed quickly, wrapped herself in a terry robe, and wandered into the bedroom, using a small hand towel on her dark curls. “I don’t think I’m going for enticing, I’m thinking more of grown-up. He accused me of being a selfish child this afternoon. I need to present as a mature adult tonight.”

  “You need to present as a sexy mama tonight if you want to convince him to wait ’til Sunday to meet his son.” Julie pulled several dresses from the back of the closet. “Besides, enticing can be very mature. Here, this one.” She held up the black strapless cocktail dress Liam had seen her in at the hotel bar.

  Carrie sat on the edge of the bed and shook her head. “No, he’s already—” She stopped. This was no time to go into the fact th
at Liam had showed up at her gig a couple of days before or that she’d bolted like a frightened deer. Julie would have a field day with that information. “This is supper on a boat, not dinner and dancing.”

  Using her fingers, she styled her curls as Julie held up and rejected several others outfits. Too long. Too wintery. Too brown. Too frumpy. Then she pulled the dry cleaner’s plastic from a sleeveless red linen scoop-neck sheath that Carrie had worn only once last summer.

  “This is it,” Julie cried triumphantly. “It’s perfect and those red strappy sandals I brought you from New York will make your legs look long and lean.”

  “I can’t walk in those sandals,” Carrie complained, going to her dresser for underwear.

  Julie stopped her. “Tough. You won’t be doing much walking tonight. Put away that slip, the dress is lined. And don’t even think about white cotton undies, you big nerd.”

  “Look, I’m not sleeping with him tonight.” Carrie backed up as her friend shouldered her out of the way. “Even if I wanted to, I have no idea if he’s interested.” Yet all of her womanly instincts told her Liam was more than interested.

  But why? Maybe it was to seduce her into letting him get to Jack, or maybe it was to salve his ego. She was probably the one and only woman ever to break up with him.

  No doubt he thinks he’s got something to prove.

  But her conscience prodded her before that thought was even fully formed. That’s completely unfair. Liam’s not the kind of man who has anything to prove.

  “He has a pulse and a pecker, doesn’t he?” Sorting through Carrie’s lingerie drawer, Julie missed the eye roll. “He’s interested. Besides, the way he was looking at you this afternoon, it won’t take anything more than these—” She held up red satin French-cut panties and a matching push-up bra that she’d brought Carrie from a photo shoot in Chicago. “—to get him all hot and bothered.”

  “I’m not sure I want him hot and bothered.” Carrie stroked on body lotion. “I don’t know if I even remember what to do with a hot-and-bothered man.”

  “Geez, you so need to get laid, and this is the perfect opportunity.” Julie pulled a shoe box from the closet shelf and dangled the red sandals temptingly from one finger. “This guy’s gonna be in your life forever. Why not let it be a good experience? Maybe you can pick up where you left off. You know, like a do-over.”

  “Where we left off was him in Europe with female string players hanging all over him, and me in Louisville, broke and pregnant.” Carrie grabbed the underwear and went into the bathroom. “I sure as hell don’t want to do that over.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Julie followed her. “Here, let me do your makeup.”

  “Okay, but nothing extreme.” She sat on the toilet seat and looked up expectantly. “Keep it simple and natural, please.”

  “Hey, that’s actually a great idea—simple and understated.” Julie picked up a foundation brush. “We’ll let the dress do all the work.”

  She started on Carrie’s face, applying a light base of powdered foundation and a stroke of blush to each cheek. Then she highlighted her dark eyes with shimmery taupe shadow and added a touch of lip gloss.

  “There. Perfect. And not a lot of bling either. Just wear your diamond studs. Add the red undies, the sandals, and the dress and—bam. The guy’s a goner.”

  EIGHT

  “I like your friend Julie, but she’s a little… um… intimidating.” Liam poured wine into two glasses and set one in front of Carrie.

  The lake air was light and cool as they sat on the deck of his boat. The sun floated on the horizon, turning the sky dark orange while Norah Jones played softly in the background. His hair rumpled from the breeze, he looked fantastic in cotton khakis and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She was dying to stroke back the errant curl that always fell over his forehead, but she reached for her wine instead.

  Settling into the deck chair next to hers, he tipped his glass toward her in a silent toast.

  She touched her glass to his and took a sip. “This is good. What is it?”

  “A cabernet sauvignon from the Sierra foothills—about three hours northeast of San Francisco. I go wine-tasting wherever I travel—and I love northern California wines.”

  They were both making an effort, a tentative give and take. Carrie wrapped her hands around the bowl of her wineglass, resisting the urge to touch the soft hairs on his arm. The setting sun created an aura of red-gold light around him that ignited a flame of desire low in her belly.

  “Julie’s a good friend.” Carrie switched back to his original observation when she caught herself staring. “She’s not really scary. She just speaks her mind, which I always appreciate.”

  She turned as footsteps sounded behind them.

  A very male arm appeared as someone set a tray of appetizers on the table between them. “Hi, I’m Tony, captain of this tub. You must be Carrie.”

  When he came into view, she blinked. Built like a bear, Tony was all muscle and dark hair and dressed in shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and sandals. He towered over Carrie as they shook hands.

  “Nice to meet you, Tony. She’s a beautiful boat.” A wave of her hand encompassed the whole sleek vessel. “How long have you been in charge?”

  Tony reached for an appetizer and popped it in his mouth. “Actually, I came with the boat, so I’ve been her pilot for about ten years—the last two with the Maestro here. I’m also chief cook and bottle washer, and I know every inch of her intimately. Would you like a tour?” When he offered his hand, she accepted, dropping her sweater on the chair.

  “I can take her on a tour.” Liam popped up from his chair.

  Tony tossed him a cell phone. “You’ve got a call.” Taking Carrie’s hand, he led her away while Liam frowned after them.

  The boat was elegant with plush carpet, shiny stainless steel fittings, and satiny teak and mahogany wood. The salon was furnished with an overstuffed sofa and chairs and dark wooden tables. A built-in bar and a state-of-the-art theater and stereo system were tucked into carved wood cabinets. An electronic keyboard and laptop sat on a table behind the sofa. The master cabin boasted a king-sized bed, a private bath, and an exercise area with a treadmill and free weights. There were three smaller quarters, each with a full head, plus a complete galley that seemed more like a gourmet kitchen.

  After taking her below to see the engine room and storage areas, Tony brought her back up on deck. Smiling, he gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. “I’m outta here. Dinner’s warming in the oven. Good to meet you, Carrie.” He jumped over the rail onto the dock and headed off with a salute to Liam, who was still on the phone.

  Carrie sat down and picked up her glass, trying hard not to eavesdrop.

  “I miss you too, Ella. Give Dana my best. Yeah, yeah, I will, I promise. Goodnight, babe.” He shut the phone off and dropped it in his pocket. “So you got the nickel tour?”

  “I did. It’s like a traveling household.” She allowed him to pour more wine into her glass. As she sipped, she tried not to think about who he may have been talking to.

  Ella? Who’s Ella?

  Okay, stop. Ella is none of your business. His personal life is none of your business.

  Oh crap, was that Ella Grant? That hot actress he was with at the Grammy Awards?

  Carrie gave herself a mental shake and refocused.

  “—and we take her out every chance we get,” Liam was saying. “We’ve stuck to the Great Lakes so far. I bought her in Chicago when the former owner moved to Arizona.”

  “Has Uncle Noah had a tour yet? He’d get a huge kick out of this.”

  “He got the grand tour before you came down this evening. He’s made fast friends of Will and Tony. They’re both crazy fishermen. Here, we’ll have dinner on the port side.” With a hand on the small of her back, he led her to a table on the other side of the deck.

  She shivered at the light touch of his fingers, feeling his heat through the linen of her dress.<
br />
  “Let me get your sweater.” He pulled the chair out for her. “If it’s too chilly out here for you, we can eat inside.”

  “No, no—this is fine, thanks.” Carrie sat down. “I don’t need the sweater.”

  Get a grip. You can’t react every time he’s within two feet of you, every time his hand brushes against you.

  She helped herself to the appetizers, savoring the delicate crabmeat and artichoke dip on crackers. “This is delicious.”

  “Yeah, Tony’s gone all out for you. We aren’t usually this fancy.” Sitting across from her, he lit the hurricane lamp. As their eyes met over the flame, the atmosphere instantly became more intimate. “Citronella,” he said with a shrug. “Probably too early for bugs, but why chance it?”

  They chatted—carefully, politely— as they ate Tony’s delicious meal, and Carrie gradually began to relax. The wine helped, but it wasn’t simply the alcohol’s effect—Liam also loosened up. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as she talked about Willow Bay, her life, and her studio. She told him about coming to Michigan after her father’s death, about how photography changed her life, and she talked about Jack. He asked questions, but didn’t push, even though she could tell he was hungry for information.

  She loved watching him. He still used his hands when he told a story, almost as if he were conducting as he spoke, and his smile made her heart pound. But long days on the road, traveling from city to city—endless hours of rehearsals and performances—had left their mark on him. His face was older. Lines showed around his eyes. Gray threaded through the auburn hair above his ears. The young eager musician had been replaced by a mature, balanced, and if possible, sexier version of the man she remembered.

  This is Jack in thirty years.