“I got it on the voice mail on my cell phone.” He took a carton of milk from the refrigerator.
She pushed the mug away. “Has the house been on the market long?”
“About four months. I have to go through it tomorrow morning for the last time.”
Melanie could only imagine how hard that would be.
Suddenly he looked at her and said, “Would you like to ride along and drive around Santa Rosa? We’ll be back by noon.”
Her heart beat faster. “Are you sure you want company? Letting go of the house where you lived is sometimes difficult.”
He didn’t respond right away but rather poured himself a glass of milk, took it over to the table and sat across from her. “It’s just a house. Amy won’t even remember it, and in a while I won’t, either.”
Could leaving the past behind really be easy for him? If she went into the house with him, would she feel Sherry’s presence? She’d find out tomorrow. “I’d like to come with you.”
“Can you be ready to leave after breakfast?”
“That’s fine.”
Zack reached for a cookie from the plate on the table, a faraway look in his eyes now.
No matter what he’d said, she suspected tonight he’d be thinking a lot about his marriage and the life he’d shared with his wife in the house, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
Rising, she took her mug to the sink and then went to the doorway. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
When Zack nodded absently, she went to her room, wondering if she’d have another dream tonight, wondering what would happen if she told Zack about the last dream she’d had.
Glancing at Zack often on the ride to Santa Rosa on Friday morning, Melanie wondered what he was thinking, if he was sorry he’d asked her along. She’d tried to start a conversation, but both of her attempts had been met with short answers. She didn’t know him well enough to pry. She didn’t know him well enough to tell him she understood about loss and grief. That could lead to questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.
As they entered the outskirts of Santa Rosa, Zack pointed out sections of the town as he drove. She saw a few apartment complexes but she was more attuned to the man beside her, more concerned about what was going on inside of him than thinking about another place to stay.
After winding through an up-scale development, he stopped in front of a two-story, stucco house with black wrought-iron trim. “This is it,” he said with a finality that led Melanie to believe his feelings about it weren’t final at all.
“Do you want me to wait here?” she asked as his hand went to the door.
“No, I’m just going to do a final check to make sure everything’s the way I left it. I haven’t been inside for the past few weeks.”
Melanie met him on the flagstone path, and they walked up to the massive oak door. Zack pulled a key from his pocket, inserted it in the doorknob, and they stepped inside.
At once she saw that the house wasn’t completely bare. Draperies still adorned the windows, and area rugs covered the hardwood floors.
“The new owners might want to clear out the curtains and the rugs, but I have no use for them, either,” Zack remarked as he stepped deeper into the living room.
Melanie could tell the draperies were custom-made, the rugs of fine quality. She ventured a question. “How long did you live here?”
“Six years. Sherry and I bought the place right after we were married.” After another cursory look around the room, he headed for the stairs.
Zack went up the steps first. Upstairs, Melanie wandered from room to room with him. This was a beautiful house with window seats, casement windows and an old-world feel to it. But it was empty now, and she knew Zack felt the emptiness more keenly than she did.
When they returned downstairs, she wandered into the kitchen and saw that it was high-tech. Zack found her examining the smooth-top stove. In a low voice he said, “Sherry didn’t cook much, but she liked having the latest gadgets.”
Slowly he crossed to the back door and opened it, staring outside for a few very long minutes. Melanie could see the tension in his shoulders, the stiffness of his neck, the rigidity of his posture. After that long look outside, he quickly went through the rest of the downstairs, even more remote than before.
Finally they stood in the foyer again, and she couldn’t help but say, “I’m sure you miss it.”
He turned to her then. “I don’t miss it. I don’t think about it. Just as I try not to think about Sherry’s accident.”
Instead of trying to find out more about the accident, she wanted to help him get through the pain. “You can’t deny the grief you feel. It will just take that much longer to let up if you do.”
From the first moment she’d met Zachary Morgan, she’d decided he was a kind man, a gentle man, but now there was no kindness or gentleness in his tone or his turbulent brown eyes. “I hired you as an interior decorator, not a counselor. Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Melanie.”
He didn’t have to add the words “bringing you along today was a mistake” but she could feel them and hear them as if he’d said them.
She hadn’t even known him long enough for him to hurt her, but she did hurt at his words because she wanted to help him so much. She wanted to get to know him better. She wanted to solve the mystery behind her dreams.
She went out to the car to wait until he was finished saying goodbye to a house that had been part of his life.
Melanie’s drive home with Zack was silent and, although he was in and out of the penthouse the rest of the day, she stayed in her room working on cost estimates. In some way she felt as if she belonged here with him and Amy, but in others she felt like an outsider.
At supper Melanie listened to Flo talk about her plans for the next day with her sister. They were going to leave early and drive to Reno. “We’re leaving at 5:00 a.m., so I’m going to turn in the same time Amy does tonight. We’ll probably get home about midnight tomorrow, hopefully with our pockets loaded and our wallets, too.”
Silence fell over the kitchen, and Flo looked from Melanie to Zack and back to Melanie again, obviously aware of the tension between them. After she wiped her mouth with a napkin, she laid it on the table. “I think I’ll give Amy her bath and get her ready for bed before I clean up everything in here. There are blueberry tarts in the fridge if you’re interested.”
When neither Zack nor Melanie showed any interest, Flo just arched her brows, lifted Amy from her high chair and went down the hall to the bathroom.
Zack stood, took his mug to the coffeepot, poured coffee into it, then glanced at Melanie. “Would you like another cup?”
She held out her mug to him. “Half would be fine.”
His fingertips brushed hers as he took it from her, their eyes met, and the world seemed to stand still—for one moment, for ten moments, for fifty moments. Melanie wasn’t sure.
Then he set her mug on the counter and filled it halfway. When he returned to the table, he sat in Flo’s chair, the one around the corner from Melanie and set her coffee in front of her. “I shouldn’t have said what I did this morning.”
He was wearing a denim shirt and black jeans. Melanie had never been so aware of the male aura he exuded. She put one hand around her mug then met his gaze. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel that way. You were right about this morning. It wasn’t just a trip through a house I had to sell. It was a trip down memory lane, and it was much harder than I expected it to be.”
“Memories are funny things,” she said quietly. “You expect them to bring comfort, but instead they bring sadness and regret and wishes for stretches of time you know you’ll never have again.”
His gaze was probing. “You sound as if you know.”
Careful, she told herself. Be very careful. She couldn’t let her guard down entirely with Zack. Not yet. “Everyone has to cope with loss, and time does help. But even time d
oesn’t make it easy. Losing my parents…Even after all these years, I miss them.”
He brought his mug to his lips and took a few swallows. Amy’s squeals of laughter from the bathroom floated down the hall to the kitchen. “Amy’s kept me going,” he admitted with a small smile. “She’s that star I hooked the future onto, and I just let it pull me along. Everything I do now is for her.”
Melanie could feel emotion brimming up in her eyes because she knew exactly what Zack meant. Kaitlyn had been her life, her hope, her promise of tomorrow. “You’re very fortunate,” she murmured.
“Yes, I am.” The quiet between them seemed intimate, filled with understanding, and it was a bit unsettling.
Pushing away from the table and standing, Melanie began collecting the plates.
He stilled her hand. “You don’t have to do that.” His skin on hers was warm, taut, rougher than hers.
“I know Flo wants to turn in early,” she managed.
“Do you have plans tomorrow?” he asked, releasing her and standing, too.
“Nothing specific. Why?”
“There’s this party I have to go to tomorrow evening. The couple giving it are from near Clear Lake. They have a ranch up there. They want to introduce me to businessmen who will help this area grow. That type of thing is always more enjoyable if there’s someone to talk to besides the other guests.”
“What about Amy? Flo said she’d be gone till late.”
“I already made arrangements with my dad to come over and stay with her. He’s good with her, and he doesn’t see her as often as he’d like.”
“Is this a dress-up party?” She found herself wanting to get dressed up…for Zack.
“Sure is. Cecile said she won’t let me in without a tie. I think you’ll like Cecile and Don. They could probably throw some business your way once you finish my project.”
“Uh-oh. That means I have to make a good impression.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.”
They were standing very close together. Zack’s beard shadow was dark, and the urge to touch it made the tips of her fingers tingle. She didn’t know if he was asking her to the party because he wanted to get to know her better or if he simply wanted company. It didn’t matter. She’d take the opportunity to get to know him better.
“A party sounds nice.”
Zack leaned a bit closer to her. She lifted her chin just an iota. The space between them diminished, but then Flo called from the bathroom. “Anyone want to say good-night to this little angel?”
Zack stepped back, Melanie took a deep breath, and he crossed the kitchen and walked down the hall to his daughter.
Melanie’s sleeveless navy sheath could be casual when worn by itself. Tonight she’d added the bolero jacket with intricate piping, pearl drop earrings, and navy high heels. She knew she’d taken too much care fixing her hair and applying lipstick. She wanted to look good tonight. She wanted Zack to be proud of having her there with him.
A little voice inside her head said, That sounds more like a wife’s concern.
Maybe so, maybe not. She just knew she was happy to be going out with Zack.
When the doorbell rang, she put the cap on her lipstick, eager to meet Zack’s father. She came out of her room the same time Zack came out of Amy’s. The little girl was dressed in her pajamas and she reached her arms out to Melanie. “Cawwy.”
“Melanie’s all prettied up,” Zack told his daughter. “She might not want you tugging on her hair or putting wrinkles in her dress.” Zack was talking to his daughter, but his gaze made a slow pass over Melanie with male appreciation that she found exciting.
With Amy’s little arms outstretched, Melanie couldn’t resist. She reached for her and gathered her into her arms. “This dress is practically wrinkle-free, and the wind will do more damage than Amy can do to my hair.”
At that, Amy patted the hair just behind Melanie’s ear and gave her a wide smile.
Zack chuckled. “I think she understands a lot more than we give her credit for.”
When Melanie gazed into Amy’s dark brown eyes, she sensed an innocent knowledge in the toddler. Again Melanie wondered if Amy sensed her mother’s spirit and felt the connection that had brought her here.
Melanie glanced up at Zack and found him watching her carefully with an expression that was very sad. Melanie guessed it had something to do with missing his wife.
A moment later Zack turned and crossed to the door.
After walking into the living room with Amy, Melanie found Zack’s father tossing his jacket over a chair.
“Melanie, this is Ted Morgan, my father,” Zack said, making the introduction. “Pop, this is Melanie Carlotti. She’s the interior decorator I told you about.”
Ted Morgan was a few inches shorter than his son, with hair as dark brown as Zack’s and almost as thick, though Ted’s was liberally laced with gray. He was wearing a faded-plaid sport shirt and worn jeans and seemed a bit ill at ease as he extended his hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Carlotti. It is Miss?”
Swaying Amy with the natural rhythm of a mother, she smiled at him. “I use Ms.”
“I see. One of those liberated women. I guess you’re all that way now,” he said with a sigh.
“Don’t start, Pop,” Zack warned.
Ted shot his son an exasperated look that told Melanie they’d had this discussion before.
“My son thinks I’m a throwback to the dark ages.” There was a twinkle in his eye when he said it, but Melanie could sense a tension between Zack and his father.
With a wave of his hand that dismissed the whole discussion, Ted came over to his granddaughter and held his arms out to her. “Ready to have some real fun tonight, pumpkin?”
“She’s still a little young for poker, Pop.”
“Oh, but we’ll start counting all her toes. That’ll get her ready. Another year and I bet she’ll be matching numbers on the cards.”
Melanie laughed. She liked Zack’s dad. He was warm and friendly and said what he thought. She could also see that Amy adored him. She was slapping her little hands against his.
“Uh-oh. Looks like she wants to play patty-cake. When you folks come home, I’ll probably be all tuckered out and asleep on the couch.”
Zack asked Melanie, “Ready to go?”
“Sure am.”
To his dad he said, “The number for Cecile and Don Baker is on the refrigerator, and you have my cell number.”
“Don’t you worry about us. If we need anything, my car’s got plenty of gas. I stopped in Cool Ridge for it. You really are out in the middle of nowhere up here.”
“Not for long,” Zack responded with an expression that told Melanie he and his dad had had this discussion before also.
Leaning toward his daughter, Zack kissed Amy. Melanie gave her a wave and they were out in the hall in the elevator and on their way.
On the drive Zack kept his eyes on the road…at least he tried to. Melanie was a definite distraction. So many things about her tugged at him, and he felt unsettled whenever he was around her. Amy was comfortable with her, as if Melanie had been taking care of her since she was born. And Melanie seemed to really enjoy Amy. Sherry had loved their daughter, but she hadn’t always enjoyed her. Her career had been so damn important to her. She’d taken a leave to have Amy, but she couldn’t wait to get back to her executive position at the cosmetics company. When she’d found out she was unexpectedly pregnant again, Amy had only been four months old, and Sherry hadn’t wanted a new baby. Two to care for. Two in diapers. She’d shouted at him that she’d wanted her life back. It had been the worst argument they’d ever had and the reason he felt responsible for her accident. He couldn’t help but wonder for the umpteenth time if she’d been intentionally trying to lose their baby…if she’d been driving to his trailer on the construction site to tell him she was going to terminate her pregnancy whether he wanted her to or not.
“The sky up here is so beautiful at ni
ght,” Melanie murmured, breaking into his thoughts.
Relieved to take a respite from the guilt he carried, he glanced up, saw the three-quarter moon, the hundred twinkles of bright light. “Guess you couldn’t see through the smog in L.A.”
“Something like that.”
“I probably don’t appreciate this enough. It takes someone like you to remind me to take a good look at it again.” At that he glanced over at her. His gut clenched and his blood raced faster. She was so blasted pretty, so blasted natural, such a blasted temptation.
He pressed his foot down on the accelerator a little harder, concluding tonight had been one of the worst ideas he’d ever had.
Chapter Four
A floodlight illuminated the front door of the Bakers’ cedar-sided, rambling ranch house. There were also lights glowing on the outbuildings. Melanie caught a glimpse of a large stable, guest house and other utility buildings, then sneaked a sideways glance at Zack. He’d been silent toward the end of the drive, and she wasn’t sure what to make of his sudden remoteness. Was he, too, trying to understand the vibrations between them?
His attitude became more casual again as a maid welcomed them inside and he introduced Melanie to Cecile and Don Baker. Cecile was a pretty brunette in her forties, and Don looked to be about the same age, though his hair was silver. They shook Melanie’s hand enthusiastically.
“I hear you’re doing a marvelous job decorating Zack’s new offices,” Cecile remarked. “I’ve been thinking about redoing our living room and dining room.”
Don gave a loud groan.
His wife ignored him. “I’d love to have your ideas for something really different.”
Her husband arched his brows. “She gets paid for her opinions, honey.”
Melanie laughed. “I’d be glad to give you some ideas. I’ll get a feel for the rooms while we mingle.”
Shaking his head, Don said, “I can see my nice comfortable life is going to get disturbed.”
“It doesn’t have to, unless you make major renovations,” Melanie offered with a smile.
A Husband In Her Eyes Page 5