by Melissa Beck
His fox-bright gaze swept over her. “Got a minute?"
"Not really. I'm visiting my friend."
"Come on, now. How about showing me a little small-town courtesy? Got something I'd like to show you. Something you'll be interested in."
She rubbed at a strained muscle in her shoulder. “I doubt that."
He whipped out a rolled newspaper he'd had clamped up under his arm. As he unfurled it, she recognized the widely-circulated Chicago tabloid.
He thumbed through the pages before spreading a section wide in front of her. “Well?"
She'd often searched for photos of Daniel, photos for Amy's memory shoebox. But now that Eddie obviously wanted her to look, she hesitated, the hair at her nape prickling in warning.
He shook the paper at her. “Middle photo, bottom of page three."
She found the photo and squinted. Daniel. In slacks and a white shirt, with his tie undone. A bare-shouldered woman stood glued to him from behind. No, it looked as if he'd intentionally stepped in front of her. A foot of her pale thigh was outlined along Daniel's pants leg. From all angles, it appeared she was naked.
The councilman's daughter.
Her stomach tightened, and she drew back. Then, recalling what Daniel had told her yesterday about a setup, she looked at the photo again. He was fully dressed and the blonde wasn't. She scrutinized Daniel's expression. He seemed about to blink, and his lips had parted as if he were about to say something. As if the photographer had surprised them. The woman's eyes were barely open. She held a champagne flute in her hand that was flung out toward the photographer. In stark contrast to Daniel's look of surprise, she smiled and posed for the camera.
"Well?” Eddie's angular face glowed. “How's it feel, seeing your lover with someone else?"
She shrugged a shoulder in a fake gesture of bravery. “Why are you showing me this?"
His smile wavered. “Just wanted to show you what kind o’ guy you're dealing with."
"Daniel told me he was set up.” She glared at him. “You wouldn't happen to know who did it, would you?"
"I never rat out my friends,” he said, leaning closer.
She wrinkled her nose. His cologne smelled as strong as a plug-in deodorizer. Didn't he know people could still detect evil under it?
"Tell me why Daniel's here in Marydale, Sweet Cheeks. Give me that and I'll tell you who took this shot."
"I thought you never ratted out a friend."
Lounging back against the wall, paper folded and tucked back under his arm, he tapped his foot. “I'm waiting."
"What could I possibly tell you?” she shot out, cornered by that discerning gleam in his eye. “Daniel and I dated in Chicago a while back. It didn't work out in the romance department, but we're great friends."
"Nope. Not buying it.” His eyes raked over her again. “I make a living watching people and waiting ‘til I can get the most telling shots. No, there's something besides past history going on with you two."
"I have to go.” She started around him.
"What's this hold you have over our boy Daniel that you can pull him out of Chicago?” he called after her.
She stopped, turned and stared at him, and then glanced at an orderly pushing a cart down the hall, who'd craned his neck in their direction.
"I get the feeling you've got a connection that goes deeper than just the two of you.” The photographer's voice echoed in the corridor. “If you get my drift."
A chill ran through her. She just stood there, afraid to move for fear he'd broadcast something else down the hall. They'd already drawn glances from the nurse's station.
He stepped quickly to her side, leaned in close and hissed, “That's his kid, isn't it?"
"No!” she hissed.
"Now, now, Gretchen. It's not nice to lie."
She glared at him, and stalked away. Once outside in the bright light of day, she stopped and caught her breath. She must remain calm and consider what all this meant. Was Eddie only threatening her, or was he planning on spreading what he'd discovered?
They had to tell Amy. But every time she considered it, she saw her own father walking out the door. She saw her mother running off with another husband. She saw Amy eventually blaming her for running Daniel off, and then ... she saw herself alone again.
Still, they had to tell her. Where was Daniel? She had to warn him that Eddie knew their secret.
* * * *
Crouching on hands and knees, Daniel peered under the crawl space beneath the bathroom on his side of the duplex. He needed a flashlight.
Forget the flashlight. He needed a plumber.
"What're you doing?"
Recognizing the voice, he squinted up into the sun. “Joel.” He shoved himself back on his haunches. “My shower sprang a leak."
Joel nodded. “Shower pan. I changed the one on Gretchen's side last year when it went."
"I bow to your superior knowledge on the subject.” Daniel stood. Brushing dirt off the knees of his jeans, he admitted, “In the city, I just call maintenance and they fix it while I'm away for the day."
Joel didn't seem to find that funny. In fact, his normally friendly expression looked downright sour. “Where's Gretch?"
"Not sure, but I think she went to the hospital to see Eula."
Joel set his hands on his hips. He had on his white T-shirt and jeans. He looked big but not fat like the normal tendency for a baker. He wished Joel had that tendency.
"When will you be leaving town?” the bread man asked.
"I don't know. Why?"
"What's keeping you here? Crystal mentioned you're doing some work for Wally. Is that it?"
Hardly. That'd just been a way to fill his free time between seeing Gretchen and Amy. But what was keeping him here now? He'd already accomplished his goal of spending time getting to know Gretchen and Amy. “Yeah,” he said, frowning slightly. “I'm working with Wally."
"That'll be over after this weekend, then. After the festival?"
He nodded. “It's a festival blitz. Though I told Wally I'd like to see him do like his competitors and go nationwide. But I'm not sure he's ready for that. At least, not yet."
"Or maybe never.” Joel's hands remained on his hips, and his biceps bulged. “Some of us don't need the limelight. We're happy just being behind the counter.” His eyes narrowed on Daniel.
There was something more to their conversation, Daniel thought. Something he wasn't saying, though he sure broadcast it with those body signals.
"Damn, I hate suspense,” Daniel blurted. “You got something else you want to say to me?"
Joel's mouth tightened. “Are you in love with Gretchen?"
The old weight that accompanied the “L” word settled on Daniel's chest again. Love was death and disillusionment, disgust and divorce. It should be the “D” word. Then he remembered the sweet expression on Gretchen's face as she listened to Eula's love story yesterday. He saw again, in his mind, that little smile that had played on her lips in the car when they'd talked and he'd squeezed her knee. Some of the heaviness lifted. Still, he said, “In love? No, man. Are you?"
Joel's shoulders slumped, and he dropped his hands from his hips to hang loosely at his sides. Even his gray-eyed gaze seemed to sag. “I've loved her since she was eight and I was ten. But she tells me she doesn't feel the same way.” He couldn't have looked less intimidating right then. It was as if with his admission, all the strength had drained out of him.
Daniel felt for the poor guy. He'd be better off lusting after his baked goods. Gretchen said she wasn't in love with him. Once again, love had been one-sided.
Joel lifted his doleful gaze to Daniel's. They stared each other down for a moment before the baker slowly stuck a hand out to him.
Daniel looked down at it, then back up at Joel. Cautiously, he reached out and grasped it.
As they shook, Joel's mouth set in a hard line. His gaze narrowed on Daniel's and his grip tightened. “If you hurt her,” he muttered, “I swear I'll
rip this arm off you.” Just as quickly, he dropped Daniel's hand and turned away.
As he lurched around the side of the house, Daniel wanted to yell, “I thought you were a baker, not a butcher.” But he knew when to keep his mouth shut.
He stood there until he heard Joel pulling his truck out of the driveway. Then he went around to the front of the house and sat on the porch to wait for Gretchen.
They had some talking to do.
* * * *
Gretchen had kept an eye out for Daniel's SUV all over town, but hadn't had any luck finding him. When she turned the last curve before home and saw his vehicle parked in her drive, her heart rate picked up.
She scooted out of the car and headed for the house, where she found Daniel lounging on the swing, his long legs stretched out, feet propped up on its arm. As she approached, he opened his eyes and focused on her.
"I was looking for you,” she said.
He pushed up to a sitting position, swinging his legs down. “I was looking for you, too."
"Behind closed lids?"
His lips quirked, and he held out a hand. “Come here."
She dropped her purse and went over to him. The instant their fingers touched, heat shot through her.
Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her in between his knees and stared up into her eyes.
Her breasts tingled, and the place between her thighs throbbed. “What's wrong?” she murmured, suddenly aware of the dullness in his brown eyes.
A muscled played in his jaw. “I had a visitor."
"Eddie? Because he came by the hospital and flat out said what we suspected. He knows you're Amy's father, and he'll use it to his advantage somehow. I'm scared you could lose that big business deal."
"Maybe, maybe not. I don't care about that right now.” He reached up then and stroked her chin. The intimacy of the touch, and the thrill of it, shocked her. But she didn't squirm away. The trouble in his gaze held her. “So who visited you?"
"Joel."
She frowned. “Joel came by? What for?"
"The usual. You."
He dropped his hands away—a move that left her with a torturous sense of loss—and clasped them in his lap. As he stared down at them, she suppressed the urge to touch the boyish waves crowning his head.
"Was he upset about something?"
He snorted. “You might say that.” Hands on his thighs now, he regarded her again. “He told me how he feels about you. And he says you don't feel the same."
She nodded. “I told him earlier this morning.” She shifted. “Crystal made me realize I might be stringing him along. I hadn't meant to, but I guess that's what I was doing."
He scowled. “Why do I feel bad about you shooting him down?"
"I don't know.” She faked a gasp, and then smiled. “Could it possibly be that you're starting to believe in the transforming power of love?"
"Hardly."
"I didn't think so.” The trickle of hope that had started inside her now ebbed. “Well, anyway, if you feel bad for him, you should feel bad for me, too."
"Why?"
"Because we're in the same boat.” Oh, man. Was she really going to do this?
He frowned. “You are?"
"Yep. We both care for someone and the feelings aren't mutual.” Yeah, she was doing it.
His expression closed. “Who is it you care for?"
She lifted a brow. “A new friend of Wally's, Crystal's and Eula's. He has a little girl, and he's really into her. I can tell by the way he looks at her.” She smiled. “Mr. Scott even called this morning and said he could stay as long as he liked, as far as he was concerned. What was it he called his new renter? Oh, yeah. ‘That crazy city boy with the ready cash.’”
Laugh lines formed at the edges of Daniel's eyes. His chest rose and fell, before he reached out and touched the pulse point in the middle of her collarbone. It was a simple touch of his forefinger, but the smoldering heat in his gaze made the blood race through her, made her feel light on her feet.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"I don't know. Maybe because Eddie was trying to figure out our relationship and it forced me to think about it. He showed me a photo of you and the councilman's daughter, and I realized I believed you. I believed it was a setup.” She reached up and pressed her hand over his, where he'd begun to massage her skin there at the base of her throat. “Anyway, why not tell you my true feelings? I'm really an honest person, even though I kept our daughter a secret from you."
"That secret was a biggie."
He looked up into her face, and the hunger she read in his eyes made her sway slightly in place. “Since you told me a secret, I'll share one with you.” His voice, low and rich, stroked her ears. “It's the middle of the day and I want to take you to bed.” His gaze drilled into hers. “But I'm not Joel. I'm not offering to bake you a wedding cake afterward and put little copies of us on top."
She laughed, a nervous sound that somehow made it past her suddenly dry throat. “No, I—I would never expect that."
He stared hard into her eyes. “The baker should have you. He loved you the first time he laid eyes on you. I wanted sex the first time I saw you."
"It's okay. I know it's not easy to have feelings for people. Like with Joel, if I could love him, I would. Everyone tells me I should. But I can't and I don't."
He kneaded her shoulder. “When you knew me back then, when we were together, there was still a gap in my life that I thought I might fill with someone. Since then, I took certain terms out of my dictionary. Like ‘love’ and ‘caring.’ They're gone."
"That's not true. You care about people. You're just not admitting it."
"Hey. I like you. I admit that. I'm nuts about Amy. And I like your friends. But ‘love and forever’ doesn't play on in my life like an expensive TV commercial. For me, love and forever are more like snapshots."
She held her chin up. “That's okay. I mean, I've told you long relationships don't work for me, either."
"But the difference is, you believe in happy endings. I know you do. I saw the look on your face when Cile told us Eula's story."
"But I said I don't believe in it for me."
"You want to, though."
Finally, in frustration, she said, “Do you see a contract in my hand?” She reached for his hand, and stepped backward toward the front door. “I'm going to my room. Are you coming with me?"
He may as well have been a block of steel, for all she could budge him. His gaze seemed to absorb her as he stared up at her. A muscle flickered in his jaw. Then, slowly, he lifted himself from the swing.
She swallowed past the lump of longing in her throat as heat radiated off his body. Dropping his hand, she turned and went inside.
The sound of his footsteps behind her as she walked through the kitchen made every inch of her body shudder with anticipation and desire. She moved down the hall to her bedroom, with him following her. She knew what she was doing. She wanted Daniel. He wanted sex. He made it sound as if any chance they'd had for a real, lasting thing had ended in the past, while she recalled it as a light, no strings attached affair. Now they'd gotten to know each other better, for their child's sake. This could be dangerous. She must remember one thing: she'd been without him for five years. She could be without him again. This was just sex to satisfy the craving. She'd been alone for so long, and so had he. Therapeutic sex. That was all it was.
Darkness blanketed her bedroom. In her hurry to get to the hospital to see Eula, she hadn't opened the blinds this morning.
They stepped around Amy's toys on the carpet, and she sank down on the side of the bed.
Daniel came and stood beside her.
Looking up at him, she pulled her sweater over her head.
His gaze followed her actions. When he looked into her eyes again, he said, “Are you sure about this?"
She couldn't speak, but nodded.
He sat beside her, and after she tossed the sweater on an old trunk, he reached out
and touched her shoulder. With his rough fingers pressing against her bare skin, he pulled her close for a lingering kiss.
Her eyes half closed as he lay across the bed, pulling her down with him. His movements as he scooted them around to rest their heads on the pillows released the delicious spice of his aftershave, of his unique, warm scent.
Up on one elbow facing her, with his free hand, he slowly combed his fingers through her hair. Her scalp tingled at his touch.
"You're beautiful,” he murmured.
When he withdrew his fingers slightly to caress her cheek, she turned her mouth into his hand and kissed his warm, rough palm. “So are you."
She closed her eyes as he brushed his lips against hers. And then he was gone. She opened her eyes, to find him staring at her. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"It's been a while, but I think I remember. And I think you should kiss me better than that. Kiss me like you did in the cave."
His gaze darkened. This time when he leaned in to her, he put his hand behind her back and pulled her up close to him, holding her there, immobile, as his mouth pressed against hers. He parted her lips and plunged his tongue inside, probing.
She moaned and pressed closer, seeking to brush her breasts against his chest and press her hips into the hard ridge of his erection beneath his jeans zipper. Lust pulsed through her as his tongue danced with hers. But as he continued kissing her, he pulled his body a few inches away from hers.
She moaned in protest over the space between them. But when his hand covered her over the lacy cup of her bra, her complaint turned to a groan of satisfaction. She barely knew when he lowered the flimsy straps off her shoulder. He pushed the fabric aside and cupped both breasts. Biting her lower lip, she basked in the exquisite sensation.
His fingers played at her nipples until she wanted to ask him for more, until her crotch was so hot, she needed release. She kissed him back fiercely, desperate to destroy his patience the way he'd overcome hers, so that she could find release with him.
He broke the kiss and stared at her, panting. “My god, Gretchen,” he said, before lifting up enough to unbutton his shirt and toss it to the floor.
She reached back, unhooked her bra and threw it in the direction his clothing had gone.