Had to figure a way to make Paul understand.
What was the big deal anyway? Surely, he didn’t have feelings for me. Paul was a ladies’ man. He’d find someone else before the week ended. Ha, before the day ended if I knew Paul.
Why did he have to be so difficult? Probably didn’t like being the one rejected. Oh well, too bad. He probably rejected plenty of women in his time. Now the shoe was on the other foot. He’d have to get over it. Probably just a bruised ego. The problem was, what was I going to do? I had to act normal, get on with my life, and somehow avoid Paul. Not going to be easy with him living next door. There was a lot of time to think things through before my dinner date with Jenny.
After eighteen years, I knew my marriage lacked something, and often talked to Jenny about it. I always confided in my best friend, but could I tell Jenny about Paul. Shame washed over me at the thought of the previous evening. No, I couldn’t tell Jenny, not about this....
Nestling further into the cushions, I closed my eyes. Andrew was a good man — a good husband and an excellent father. He provided well for us with his job. Our family and friends thought we had an ideal marriage.
After all, didn’t Andrew and I portray ourselves as the perfect couple? We belonged to the best club and entertained the right people. Even went to church together. Right from the beginning, I knew Andrew was the one. It was love at first sight. And I loved the historic town of Hawthorne, not far from Andrew’s work. Though modernized, it had kept its quaint atmosphere. A quiet place, with a lifestyle that avoided the hustle and bustle of the big city.
Big old Victorian homes sat in the heart of town. Newer homes in the colonial style, and now many new Victorian-style homes, bounded the outskirts of town. I loved the big square in the center of town. The gazebo and big old clock. Loved the shops and the restaurants. I especially loved the architecture and old buildings. I swore if I lived in a former life, it must have been the Victorian era.
The houses fascinated me. I had always dreamed about buying an old Queen Anne style home and renovating it. But Andrew didn’t want an old house. Too many problems he said. And he wasn’t about to spend all that money renovating one. So we settled on the new Colonial and added a few antiques to it. It didn’t matter, I still loved Hawthorne.
It had a good school system, and Julie and Jason did well. They participated in sports and other extracurricular activities. Andrew and I even joined the Athletic Booster Club and attended all their soccer and basketball games.
Well, at least I did. Andrew tried, but he was out of town so often lately, that he missed more than half of them, but we were both proud of our kids. Where had the time gone? Jason was already seventeen.
For the most part, I felt content with my life. But lately, something was missing. Finding it harder to push those feelings aside and concentrate on being a good wife and mother had taken its toll. Even though, that’s all I ever wanted, something was missing. And then Paul moved in next door. Right from the beginning, I didn’t like the strange attraction. Yet, he had some kind of magnetic pull over me. I had never experienced anything like it before.
I loved Andrew, so why these feelings? Worse, why had I acted on them? I cringed as the picture of last night surfaced again.
As the new Athletic Director at Brewster Academy, Paul didn’t lack female companionship. Lack it-heck-females fell over their feet to talk to him. His tanned muscular body, almost black eyes and curly black hair caused women to drool over him, and I had joined the ranks.
He sent sparks of excitement through me with just a look. Apparently, something about me attracted him too. Lately he seemed to make a point of coming around whenever Andrew went out of town. I should have known better. Should have squashed it before it got out of hand.
Neighbors and women at the club were taking bets Paul would be engaged to one of the young socialites before the year ended, but I disagreed. Paul was too independent. Not marriage material. Playboy, that was Paul. Now I had become one of his playmates.
He enjoyed the carefree life and the attention from all the women, single and married. It didn’t seem to make any difference to him. Nope, Paul wasn’t going to marry anytime soon, if at all. He wasn’t about to get tied down. His arrogant attitude when he walked into a room showed he liked the attention from the women. They all flirted with him, young, old, married, single, and I had been among them. For some reason, he focused his attention on me.
My thoughts went back to yesterday afternoon.
I had been working in the garden when Paul showed up with two glasses of iced tea, wearing tight-fitting shorts that left little to the imagination. His bare chest glistened with sweat. After one quick glance, I lowered my eyes and busied myself to avoid the temptation to stare at him.
God, what a body. My pulse quickened, and butterflies erupted in my stomach. At first, I refused his offer to help, but then remembered a wasp’s nest on the porch ceiling. Giving in to the urge to look at him, I tried to concentrate on his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to get rid of wasps would you?” My gaze moved over his body. His chest rippled with muscle and my gaze strayed downward, and to his erection. Pulling my gaze upward, I concentrated on his face. But his grin told me he noticed.
“I have some spray, but it has to be done at night when all the wasps are in the nest, inactive. I can come over later and spray it if you want.”
His voice, low, seductive, electrified me. Already, I imagined myself in his arms. I tried to shake the image, but couldn’t. The look in his eyes suggested he had more than spraying in mind. Heat seared through me, beginning in the pit of my stomach. Something told me to resist. Too bad I didn’t listen.
“Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” I tried to give him an out, not that he looked like he wanted one. The look in his eyes said he’d like to take me right here. Right then.
“No trouble at all.” He ran his tongue along his top lip. The gesture sent shivers up my spine. “It’ll have to be late though, I have an appointment. Is eleven okay?”
My heart thumped in my throat. My inner voice screamed at me to hire someone. Not to give in. But stupidly, I shoved it away, ignored it. “No, I’ll still be awake.” I finished my tea and handed him the empty glass. Saw the desire in his eyes, knew my own reflected the same. I wanted him. He took the glass and brushed my hand with his fingers. Searing heat spread through me. Lord, he was seducing me right there in the open.
I picked up the shovel and pushed it into the ground a little too hard, trying to still the excitement inside me. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered for what felt like minutes instead of seconds, igniting long forgotten sparks. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.
“I’ll see you later then.” The seductive tone in his voice told me to beware.
Again, I ignored the voice, as he crossed the back yard. When he reached his back porch, he stopped, turned, and stared at me for a moment. The look on his face held me spellbound. Anticipation of the evening ahead made it difficult to concentrate on my gardening. I put my tools away and escaped to the coolness of my air conditioned house and pushed the niggling thought of resistance from my mind. I jumped into the shower and then ran some errands.
Later, after the kids were asleep, I changed into a bikini that I hadn’t worn in years. Still a perfect fit. Looking in the mirror made me proud of my still thin figure. Not an easy feat. I’d always had to watch my weight carefully, unlike my sisters. But with working out at the gym several days a week and a careful diet, I managed to retain my youthful figure. I looked at the clock — almost eleven. Would he show, or was he teasing me?
My stomach churned and excitement stirred in me. Did I really have the guts to do this? After almost a half a bottle of wine, mixed with excitement and anticipation of Paul’s visit, I turned the stereo on and padded outside in bare feet and sat on the chaise lounge, listening to the soft strains of Neil Diamond.
Suddenly an attack of conscience hit me. What
was I doing out here? This couldn’t happen. I stood, ready to go back in, when Paul appeared. My stomach did a quick flip-flop at the sight of him. Sex emanated from him in a tight-fitting shirt that showed every muscle. The way his wavy black hair fell across his forehead stirred something in me. I fell back on the chaise and stared at him.
He stood there holding a tray with glasses and a pitcher of something in one hand and a can of wasp spray in the other. “Let’s get those wasps, and then we can have a drink.” His quiet seductive tone made me tremble. He set the tray on the table and held up the can of wasp spray. “Lead the way.”
I stood, barely able to move past him, he stood so close. A hint of woodsy aftershave filled my nostrils. “They’re in the porch ceiling.” I led him to the back porch. “The stuff won’t smell up the house will it?”
Paul reached in and pulled the door closed. “Not now. You might want to go back to the pool though, this stuff’s nasty.”
On the way back to the pool, I glanced back at him. What was I doing here? I couldn’t do this. But something held me captive, and I sank down onto the chaise lounge.
Before I knew it, Paul sat on the edge of my chair and held a drink out to me. His leg brushed against mine. All my reserve melted away.
“What is it?” I looked at the red liquid and smelled it. “Hmm smells good.” I took a sip. The fruity scent and taste appealed to me.
Paul stood, poured himself a drink, walked to the pool and sat down on the edge, dangled his feet in the water, and laughed. “It’s called Sex on the Beach.” His voice held a seductive tone, and the way he looked at me suggested he was waiting for a reaction. “It’s vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice and cranberry juice.”
I took another sip. “It’s delicious—really refreshing.” The drink affected me. Already lightheaded from the wine, the martini hit me like a ton of bricks.
Throwing all caution to the wind, I stood and joined him at the pool’s edge. My leg brushed his as I sat down next to him. The heat that seared into me from the brief contact startled me. Part of me wanted to feel the length of his body next to me. Another part wanted to jump into the pool and cool off.
I should have jumped. Stupid fool.
Paul pulled one leg out of the water and put it behind me, straddling me. He took a bottle out of his pocket, poured something into his hand, and massaged my shoulders and back. I leaned my head forward and enjoyed the pressure of his hands while he massaged the tension from my muscles, at the same time kindling a fire inside me.
The pressure of his hands sent jolts of electricity through my body. I liked the way they pressed into my shoulders and on my neck. Already weak from alcohol, his nearness intoxicated me even more. I loved the feel of his hands on my back. Wanted to feel them all over my body. Wanted to feel his body pressed against mine. I acted like I never made love to a man before. I inhaled the soft scent of the oil and laughed. “Is that baby oil?”
He leaned towards my, lifted my hair, and kissed my neck, moving his lips up toward my ear. “Hmm, as a matter of fact, it is. Any objections?”
The sensual sound of his voice and magical pressure of his fingers and the oil awoke every nerve in my body. I shivered at his breath in my ear. He stood, helped me to my feet, and pulled me against him. He kissed my neck and fondled my breast. As abrupt as he was, it excited me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice screamed, don’t do this, get away, but I ignored it. I hadn’t been this turned on in a long time.
He turned me toward him, and his lips met mine, just the lightest pressure. He moved his mouth down to me neck, to my breast, at the same time walking me backwards into the house. He led me into the library through the French doors and to the couch.
Stop, my inner voice yelled. Stop before it’s too late. But again, I ignored it. The moisture from his tongue, as it slid along my breast, pushed back all reason. He eased me down on the couch, and slid his hand into the bottom of my bikini. Already my body flared with burning desire as he eased it off.
I wanted him.
Paul’s heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. And though I thought him an experienced lover, disappointment soon filled me. After all the anticipation and excitement he instilled in me, all too soon he relieved himself, leaving me unsatisfied. Not that he seemed to care.
I turned away when he stood up. God, what had I done? I recoiled from his touch when he leaned over me and smoothed my hair from my face. “Bye babe, see you tomorrow.” He pulled on his shorts, threw his shirt over his shoulder and left. Just like that, he was gone.
I pulled my arms across my chest and got up off the couch. Exhausted and more than slightly drunk, I picked up my bikini, crept up to my room, and crawled into bed. A wave of guilt washed over me before I passed out.
***
Paul let the phone ring until the machine picked it up. What the hell? He knew she was home. Still avoiding him, more than likely. He left a message. “Hey Meg, it’s me, Paul. I was wondering if you were busy. We need to talk. I’ll call you later.”
That should do it, Paul thought. Give her something to think about. Already he anticipated his next conquest, a cute little number a few years older than Meg. Her husband spent most of his time at the office and on fictitious business trips, leaving a very lonely wife. Their kids were off to college, and boredom had set in. He aimed to cure her of it. Already, she spent her days at the tennis courts and volunteering for this organization or that. But the nights, those long lonely nights that kept her husband busy at the office and away on business trips, those were the times he aimed to fill. Poor thing really believed her husband was working. Truth be known – he was out gallivanting with his secretary.
Not true of Andrew. Paul had never heard anything about Andrew cheating on Meg. The dumb jerk just didn’t know any better. Took his marriage for granted. A few more weeks, and he’d throw Meg over and concentrate on Lillian. But first he had to convince Meg.
Chapter Three
The shrill of the phone brought me back to the present. I sat forward and listened as the machine answered it. “Damn it!” How did he get my number? It wasn’t listed. I had to put a stop to this. Oh Lord, I sure made a mess of things this time. I closed my eyes and thought of Andrew.
What happened to us? We had been so much in love. Where had it all gone wrong?
I met Andrew almost twenty years ago in the campus library of all places. I laughed at the memory. What an unromantic place to meet, although Andrew had been a romantic back then.
We had literally bumped into each other during my senior year. Coming out of the Hawthorne State library, with my arms full of books, I wasn’t paying attention, as usual.
“Whoa,” A masculine voice said while a strong pair of hands steadied me.
“Oh... Um—uh—oh...sorry.” I looked up into the darkest blue eyes of a tall, sexy man with blond wavy hair. I pulled away and shifted my load of books. Heat crept up from my neck to my cheeks, and my face burned. “I guess I was distracted.” I turned to leave.
“Hey wait.” He protested and moved in front of me. “Can I give you a hand? That’s a lot of books you’re trying to balance.”
“I can handle them.” I turned away again. “Thanks anyway.”
“Okay, listen. I have a confession. I saw you come in here, and I’ve been hanging around, waiting for you to come out so I could meet you. I actually bumped into you on purpose.”
His ear-to-ear mischievous grin made me laugh.
“I’m Andrew Baldwin, and I’d really like to give you a hand with those books and maybe get a cup of coffee, if you’re not in a hurry.”
Taken aback with his honesty and infectious smile, I couldn’t help but agree. “Oh, what the heck? Coffee sounds good right now.”
That was Andrew. Sweet, honest, and quick-witted, often teasing me about being too serious. He was everything I was looking for, and then some. Right then and there, I knew I’d marry him.
He’d been so attentive in the beginning, so sensi
tive and caring. We enjoyed everything together, from simple picnics to movies and plays, to fancy dinners at the country club. Andrew made our courtship enjoyable and entertaining. We had so much in common, I often had to pinch myself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
We both wanted a large family and enjoyed staying home, curled up on the couch, watching a good movie or reading. Our similar tastes in books often led to lengthy discussions. We even shared the same views on politics and religion. You couldn’t have found anyone more perfect for each other.
After dating for a year, Andrew popped the question. I smiled, remembering his phone call shortly before graduation. “Dress up, we’re celebrating tonight.”
“What are we celebrating?” I couldn’t help being intrigued, caught up in his excitement. Andrew did that to me. He made life exciting. I loved his spontaneity. It contrasted the serious, think things through side of me.
“I’ll tell you at dinner. I’ll pick you up at seven. We have reservations for seven-thirty.”
“Ah, another mystery date.”
Andrew loved to surprise me with romantic picnics on the beach, complete with candlelight, or long leisurely rides in the country topped off by romantic dinners at out of the way places. I loved those dates, loved the mysterious side of Andrew. He intrigued me, made every date special and romantic.
I shared my excitement with Jenny, my roommate. “I can’t imagine what he has planned this time. I don’t know where he comes up with these ideas.”
Later, Jenny yelled from the living room while I finished applying my makeup. “Meg! Meg! There’s a long black limo outside! Oh my gosh... Andrew’s getting out of it.”
“What? No way, you’re kidding right?” I hurried into the room and joined my friend at the window. Sure enough Andrew emerged from the limo.
“Wow, he’s wearing a tux. Boy, does he look sexy.” By now Jenny bounced around the room like an excited puppy and rushed to open the door before Andrew even had a chance to ring the bell. She stood there, gawking at him
Another Day (Books We Love mature romance) Page 2