by Gina Wilkins
She lifted her chin. “Yes.”
Eric planted his fists on his hips. “You didn’t say anything to me about going out of town. Where are you going? Who are you going with?”
Cecilia glanced around, hoping they wouldn’t be overheard. “I’m just taking a couple of days off. I’ll have my cell phone with me, and I’ll only be an hour away if anyone needs me.”
“Surely you’re not going away with—”
“Eric.” She put a hand on his arm, squeezing to get his attention. “I’d rather not announce my personal business to anyone within hearing distance, if you don’t mind.”
He subsided to a disgruntled mumble that would carry no farther than their table. “You’re going with Geoff Bingham?”
She should have known she couldn’t pull this off in secret. “Yes. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that I’m old enough to make my own decisions about my weekend plans without clearing them with you first.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Eric muttered.
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed evenly.
Still frowning, he asked in the same quiet tone, “So where is this thing with you and Bingham headed, anyway? I mean, are we going to end up married to cousins?”
Vanessa propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, apparently interested in that answer herself.
“No,” Cecilia said firmly. “That is an extremely unlikely possibility. Geoff and I are friends, and we’ve both been working very hard lately. We need some time off for relaxation, and we’ve enjoyed spending that time together. That’s pretty much the extent of it.”
She told herself it wasn’t really a lie, since she had summed up the relationship quite well—except for the making-a-baby part she had chosen not to mention. If Eric was this freaked out by her going away for a weekend with Geoff, she couldn’t imagine how he would react when she told him she was pregnant with Geoff’s child. But she would face that hurdle when—if—it became necessary.
“Since I’m obviously not going to change your mind about this, I’ll just tell you to have a good time.” He leaned over to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Don’t forget to call me when you get back, CeCe.”
“I won’t forget. Enjoy your nice dinner with Hannah.”
She watched her brother walk away, still shaking his head in disapproval. And then she drew a deep breath and turned back to Vanessa. “Shut up.”
Vanessa lifted her eyebrows. “I haven’t said anything.”
“You don’t have to. That dopey grin says it all.”
“What happened to your policy of not dating men who are prettier than you are? Not that I’m saying he is, of course.”
“Are you kidding? He’s gorgeous.”
“You’re hardly plain yourself, kiddo.”
“Thank you. But you’re my friend and you’re hardly objective.”
“Perhaps. Anyway, I think it’s really great that you’re having a good time with—” she lowered her voice to a stage whisper “—you know who.”
“You, um, don’t think less of me for going away for a weekend with a man I’ve only known for a week?”
Vanessa seemed surprised by the hesitant question. “Come on, Cecilia. You’re a mature woman. You’ve been married. It’s not like Geoff’s a total stranger you know nothing about. I’d say as long as you’ve both been clear from the beginning what you expect from each other so we don’t have any broken hearts in the making, there’s no reason at all why you shouldn’t have a little fun.”
Cecilia sat back in her chair, satisfied with her friend’s blessing. For a moment she was tempted to tell Vanessa everything. But that was a bit more than she was prepared to share.
“Geoff and I have both made it perfectly clear what we want from each other,” she said, instead. “No hearts are going to be broken.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Was that just a hint of warning in Vanessa’s voice—a touch of concern despite her support?
Cecilia glanced at her watch. “I’d better get back to the madhouse. I’ve got an appointment in fifteen minutes.”
“Me, too. And Cecilia?”
Gathering her things, Cecilia responded absently. “Mmm?”
“Have a great weekend, okay?”
She smiled. “Thanks, Van. I intend to.”
It was an impulse that made Cecilia change into a bright red sundress when she got home from work. Maybe because she’d had on a red dress when she’d met Geoff last week, though this one was more casual. The spaghetti straps bared her arms and shoulders, while the ruffled vee bodice gave just a hint of cleavage. She wore hoop earrings for a gypsy touch and chose more comfortable sandals than she’d worn last week.
Maybe she was a bit overdressed, she mused as she pinned her hair into a loose roll, but she enjoyed dressing up occasionally after spending so much of her life in scrubs and casual clothes.
She decided it was worth the effort when Geoff saw her. After giving her a kiss that nearly melted her into the floor, he raised his head to ask huskily, “Have I mentioned that I like the way you look in red?”
“I think you just made that clear. You look awfully good yourself,” she added, admiring the way his white shirt and well-tailored khakis showed off both his tan and his athletic physique.
He nodded toward the red wheeled bag sitting nearby. “Is this all you’re taking?”
“Yes.” She picked up her purse. “I’m ready.”
A grin spread across his face. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”
It was a nice evening for a drive. Clear and not quite as hot as it had been. Piano music played quietly from the CD player, proving a pleasant background without impeding their lively conversation. It was always a bit surprising to Cecilia how much they could find to talk about even when they’d only been apart for a few hours.
“Are you going to tell me now where we’re going?” she asked when they had been on the road for just over half an hour.
“My family owns a vacation cottage on the far side of Ginman’s Lake, close to the river. It’s a place we go when we want to get away from the phone and the social calendars, yet we’re still nearby if we’re needed. I think you and I can have a nice, relaxing weekend there.”
“It sounds very nice. How much farther?”
“Ten minutes. It’s only a forty-minute drive from your house.”
Which meant she could be at the clinic in half an hour if necessary, she figured.
She hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.
The Bingham “cottage” was hardly a modest little vacation house, she observed when Geoff drove down the long gravel driveway. Constructed of rock and glass and sitting on a secluded lot that fell off to the lake in the back, the two-story house was bigger than her own home. Everything was so tidy and well maintained that she was quite sure they kept a grounds-keeper on full-time retainer. “This is lovely.”
“I haven’t spent much time here since my mother died, but Dad comes fairly often for a fishing weekend.”
Carrying their bags, he led her inside. She noted immediately that the heavy wood and overstuffed upholstered furnishings bore not a trace of dust. The main room was two stories high, surrounded by an upstairs balcony that probably led to bedrooms. The back wall was covered with closed draperies, but she would bet it was made of glass to showcase the lake view.
One wall was made up entirely of built-in bookcases to display books, family photos, electronic equipment, board games and knickknacks. A swinging wood door on another wall probably opened into the kitchen. The room was sweetly scented by the fresh flowers arranged in several scattered vases.
“Obviously you had someone prepare for our arrival,” she commented.
“Mmm. Come with me and I’ll show you the upstairs.”
Tagging obligingly behind him, she climbed the curving staircase and stepped into the first door on the left. It was a bedroom, of course, with a big iron bed in the center of the bac
k wall and a dresser, armoire and nightstands made of distressed pine. The fabrics were in nubby golds and browns, and a thick rug was spread on the oak floor.
It was a warm, inviting room, and it wasn’t hard for Cecilia to imagine snuggling with Geoff in that big bed. The image alone was enough to bring a light flush to her cheeks.
“Maybe you’d like to freshen up while I take care of a few last-minute details downstairs,” he suggested. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Are you kidding? I’m starving.”
He smiled. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“I suppose I can wait that long—barely.”
“I’ll meet you at the bottom of the stairs.”
She took advantage of the time to wash up in the big attached bathroom that was decorated in the same warm colors as the bedroom. She tidied her hair, unpacked a few toiletries and applied a fresh touch of lipstick. When fifteen minutes had passed, she made one last quick check in the mirror and left the room.
As promised, Geoff waited for her at the foot of the stairs. He smiled as he watched her walk down, his expression so appreciative that she couldn’t help smiling in return. He held a white rose in his hand; he offered it to her when she reached the bottom step.
Touched by the gesture, she lifted the bloom to her nose to appreciate its scent. Only then did she notice that the draperies at the back of the room were open now, revealing a scene that made her breath catch in her throat.
Taking her hand, Geoff led her toward the glass wall. It was almost dark now, the sky a rich purple, the big, spreading trees casting long, deep shadows. The lake beyond the property, set into a deep valley surrounded by wooded Kentucky mountains, looked like a sheet of purplish-gray glass. A boat dock and fishing pier were accessible from the house by way of a long, sloping rock walkway with metal railings for safety.
But it was the stone patio just behind the house that held Cecilia’s attention when she and Geoff stepped outside through a sliding glass door. Anchored by a big rock barbecue pit at one side, the patio was lined with inviting benches and big wooden planters that held Japanese maples, large lacy ferns and mounds of summer flowers. Multicolored paper lanterns glowed from wires strung overhead, illuminating a round wrought-iron table in the center of the patio.
The table had been set for two with china, crystal and silver. Silver-domed serving dishes, silver candlesticks and a floral centerpiece added elegance to the setting. Champagne chilled in a silver bucket. Soft music played from hidden speakers.
It was so blatantly, over-the-top romantic that Cecilia could feel her knees start to weaken. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. The only evening that had come close was the night Geoff had cooked for her at his condo—the night they had celebrated their decision to have a child together.
Bracing a hand on the back of a curvy wrought-iron chair, she looked at him through a sheen of tears. “You really have to stop doing things like this.”
He trailed a fingertip down her bare arm. “Why?”
Because you’ll make me fall for you. “Because you’ll spoil me.”
“I rather enjoy spoiling you.”
“Still….”
Without waiting to hear further objections, Geoff moved to the table and lifted the champagne bottle from the ice bucket. Moments later he handed her a flute filled with the fizzing beverage.
“To our child,” he said, touching his glass to Cecilia’s. “May she be as smart and beautiful as her mother.”
“Or may he be as handsome and charming as his father,” she countered, then lifted the flute to her lips. She would only drink a few sips—just in case—but this was most definitely a toast she wanted to acknowledge.
He held her chair for her, then insisted on serving her. The meal was perfection—a salmon-and-pasta salad kept cool by ice in the bottom of the clever serving dish, crisp asparagus spears, fruit salad. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to have someone prepare all this so that he’d needed only a few minutes to add the finishing touches. That gesture alone illustrated how completely different their lifestyles were.
She wondered if it would be confusing for a child to have one parent with so much money and status and the other parent who lived quietly and on a careful budget. A tiny part of her worried that the child would be more impressed by Geoff’s extravagant gestures than Cecilia’s steady reliability. But she wouldn’t make this a competition, she vowed. Her child would just have to learn that money wasn’t the most important thing in life.
It was fully dark now, and the lanterns glowed against the starry sky. Tiny white lights were strung in the potted trees on the patio. She would have to do something like that on her much-tinier patio, she thought. She liked the fairyland look.
“You’ve been quiet this evening,” Geoff commented. “Tired?”
“A bit overwhelmed, I think.”
“Which means?”
“I’m just not accustomed to such grand gestures. The expensive dinners, the rocking chair…all of this.”
“Don’t forget the herbal tea,” he murmured.
“I’m serious, Geoff. Do you always do things like this?”
“What do you mean by always?”
She sighed, frustrated by his obtuseness and her own inarticulateness. “I mean, do you shower so much attention on all the women you…well—”
“Try to make babies with?” His voice was just a bit too measured now. “I can’t answer that, since it’s never happened before.”
“Still, it isn’t necessary to…well, to court me. I mean…”
“Cecilia.” He didn’t look or sound angry, but something in his tone let her know he found absolutely no humor in this particular topic. “I enjoy spending time with you. Yes, there’s a purpose in our being together, but there’s no reason we can’t make the next few weeks special.”
Now she felt terrible. Geoff had gone to so much trouble to make this a perfect evening, and here she was questioning his motives. Just because most of the men in her past had turned out to be all flash and no substance didn’t mean she should judge Geoff by their standards.
But experience made a pretty darned good teacher, she thought as she tried to ignore the ripple of foreboding that went through her. She would be incredibly foolish to forget all the hard-earned lessons she had learned along the way.
Propped on one elbow, Geoff lay in the big iron bed watching Cecilia sleep. Moonlight streamed through the open bedroom window, bathing her in a soft light that suited her creamy skin. Her dark hair tumbled around her, and he remembered once wondering how it would look spread across his pillow. He was delighted that he’d had the chance to find out.
She must be tired, he thought, his gaze lingering for a moment on the purply smudges beneath her long eyelashes. She had talked about how busy they’d been at the clinic lately, and how much stress they’d been working under.
She had been up most of the night delivering the baby that had interrupted their last evening together. She’d told him the baby hadn’t arrived until nearly two a.m. She needed a couple of days of rest and relaxation.
They’d had a very pleasant evening. After finishing their dinner, they had taken a leisurely stroll down the path to the water, where they’d sat for a while on the benches built into the sides of the fishing pier. Letting a companionable silence fall between them, they had listened to the water lapping against the pier and the bank.
Away from the lights of town, the stars had twinkled brilliantly above them, reflecting in scattered-diamond patterns on the surface of the lake. Hidden in the trees surrounding them, frogs and night birds had entertained them with an enthusiastic concert.
It had been a magical evening, as far as Geoff was concerned. He was so comfortable with Cecilia, so relaxed. Not only did she seem to have no particular expectations of him, she actually seemed uncomfortable when he went to extra trouble on her behalf.
He remembered her warning that he was in danger of spoiling her. Had it been so rare for
her to be pampered? He knew she was close to her brother and that Eric took care of her home-maintenance needs, but she seemed to be almost entirely unaccustomed to nice gestures from anyone else.
Were all the men she had known—including her ex-husband—total idiots? Hadn’t they realized that Cecilia was a very special woman, someone who gave so much to others that she well deserved to be indulged occasionally herself? If so, it was no wonder she’d been a bit wary of his motives.
She’d asked if he always made romantic gestures toward the women in his life. Truth was, he had done things like that for other women. He enjoyed planning nice evenings, got a kick out of watching a woman’s eyes light up in surprise and pleasure.
But it had been a long time since he’d made the effort for anyone. And there was something different about the way he felt when he did something special for Cecilia. Maybe because she expected so little from him. Maybe because there was something different about Cecilia herself.
She was the first woman he had ever considered having a child with. Maybe because she was the first woman who’d ever asked him to, he thought with a smile. But also because she was the first woman he had ever seen as a suitable mother for his child. Darned near perfect, as a matter of fact.
He reached out to smooth a strand of hair away from her cheek. She murmured something in her sleep and nestled more deeply into the pillow. He wanted to lean over and kiss her, but he was afraid he would awaken her. She needed her rest. If he’d had to, he would have lain awake all night watching over her to make sure nothing interfered with her sleep.
This new level of protectiveness was different, too. Especially considering that he’d met few women more unmistakably capable of taking care of themselves.
He felt his smile turn slowly to a frown, and he wasn’t sure exactly why. It seemed to have something to do with the strength of his feelings for Cecilia—feelings that were beginning to seem too intense considering the parameters of the relationship they had agreed to. While he’d thought it would be convenient to be good friends with his child’s mother, this felt like more than friendship. Unnervingly more.