Wish On The Moon

by Karen Rose Smith

  The sky was a brilliant turquoise. Mitch could understand how the surroundings influenced the creative flow of art in the Southwest. Clumps of juniper, salt sage and rabbit brush added green to the variety of earthtones. He could sit out here for days, sketching ideas, forming designs, soaking up inspiration and peace.

  The Navajo reservation was vast but Laura's directions were specific. She did have an organizational streak. He'd seen a glimpse of it in her outline for the sterling promotion. Just when he thought he knew her, another facet of her personality intrigued him. She was too complex to catalog. Not for the first time, he wondered exactly what had transpired between her and Ray before she'd left six years ago.

  Mandy skipped along beside Laura asking question after question as they walked through the pueblo. She pulled on her mom's arm as they passed a Navajo woman in traditional dress--velveteen blouse, full cotton skirt, and an abundance of silver and turquoise jewelry. "Isn't she pretty?"

  Laura agreed. "Yes, she is."

  Mitch's gaze moved from the woman to Laura and skimmed her coral slacks and sweater. "So are you."

  She looked surprised, and he marveled that the compliment had slipped out so easily. She also looked pleased. They'd been getting along well. He congratulated himself on his attitude last night. After buying a camera, sightseeing in Flagstaff, and stopping for pizza, they'd settled in easily. Tired from the trip, after three games of cards they'd all gone to bed. No hassle. No fuss. No undue temptation. The trip was going to go smoothly personally and professionally.

  Laura stopped outside a hogan where a tribesman was working under the brilliant sun. She picked up a ring of inlaid stones and shell while Mitch examined a cuff bracelet with burnished silver geometric patterns. "Is this what the agent showed you?"

  "Similar." She turned her attention to a necklace of turquoise beads. "It was the concha belts and squash blossom necklaces that really caught my eye."

  "But you want to incorporate less expensive pieces too, don't you?" He fingered a string of tiny silver beads that shimmered. It was called liquid silver.

  She gave him a smile almost as bright as the sun. "I want all of it."

  He laughed. "After we see all of it, we'll have to make a list and break down the number of pieces we want of each."

  "It could take forever if I have to decide."

  "We have all night. I thought Mandy might like to go to the Lowell Observatory after an early supper. When she goes to bed, we can work."

  Laura looked away, down at the table in front of her, and he wondered if she was thinking about them working together alone. "That sounds good," she said over her shoulder.

  They'd be occupied with business. It would be no different than working in the store. "I thought tomorrow we could take a jeep ride through--"

  At her smile, he stopped. "What?"

  "You are a planner, aren't you?"

  She didn't sound critical. "What did you have in mind for tomorrow?"

  "I haven't thought about it. I was going to see where today led."

  "If you don't want to drive to Sedona and hike around vortexes--"

  She laid her hand on his arm. "It'll be a great experience for Mandy. But maybe we could play the rest of tomorrow by ear. Sort of go where the sun leads?"

  He enjoyed her touching him and it was more than the elemental response his body gave. "You might have to teach me how to do that." He was beginning to believe she could teach him lots of things.

  She held up her index finger. "Step one. Relax and forget schedules. At least until we get back on the plane day after tomorrow."

  Mitch found following the sun wasn't as difficult as he imagined it would be. He simply followed Laura.

  She lead him through every nook and cranny where visitors were allowed in the pueblo, peeping into a beehive oven where bread baked, examining and watching an elderly Navajo woman weave a rug on a loom, walking far enough away from the hubbub to scan shepherds herding sheep on a far hill.

  She talked to everyone she saw, smiled at those who didn't speak English. When she learned about the ruins of Wupalhi National Monument east of Flagstaff, they went there next. She was as curious as Mandy.

  Mitch enjoyed watching her move, gesture, laugh. She opened up a world to him he'd ignored for too long. He scheduled his life too well and didn't allow time to look at the sky. This sky couldn't be ignored. It was too intensely blue, too expansive, too beautiful. But if he took the time to look at the sky in York, it might have its own beauty.

  Later that evening, Laura smiled as Mitch sat forward on the sofa and checked the list they'd made. They'd called room service for a second pot of coffee--this time decaffeinated. Laura had tucked Mandy in two hours ago. Since then, she and Mitch had looked over the lists of choices of jewelry pieces, discussing saleability and their sales campaign.

  Their sales campaign. She liked the sound of that. She liked standing beside him, working with him, watching his tenderness with Mandy. Even when they disagreed or argued, some bond tied them together. And suddenly she knew she was falling in love with him. That scared her.

  She took a deep breath. Thanks to her mother, she'd never been frightened by feelings. That wasn't true for Mitch. When he didn't like what he felt, he shut it off. What did he feel? Laura was afraid to ask.

  He'd been more relaxed today than she'd ever seen him. But now with Mandy in bed and the intimate silence of the suite surrounding them, they were more aware of each other and less relaxed. She could tell by his movements, the tension in his body. Passion rose whenever they were in the same room. They didn't have to argue. They didn't even have to touch. It was just there--vibrating, sharp, nipping at all her senses, slicing through whatever was in its way. She didn't know why. But she'd come to accept its presence and revel in it. She wished Mitch could.

  He put his cup down with a click. "Are you satisfied with what we've decided?"

  "The quantity, the ads, or the photos for the website?"

  His head came up and his stare was direct. "All of the above."

  "I understand your reasoning to temper the first shipment. As long as we have the option to add to our inventory when we need it, that's okay."

  "But you'd like five more squash blossom necklaces."

  "I'd like ten more." At his wry look, she shook her finger at him, almost hitting his chest. "You wait and see. I bet we sell out when we have Ladies' Night."

  He caught her finger as amusement danced in his blue eyes. "I hope we do."

  She went still as the heat from his hand warmed her all over. But she pushed a question past the sudden tightness in her throat. "You want my ideas to work?"

  The nerve in his jaw jumped. "If you're successful, Ray and I will benefit."

  So it was strictly for business reasons. Not because he cared. She swallowed. "I see."

  His eyes dropped to the pulse at her throat, the gold chain with the dangling rose, the swell of her breast under her sweater. His chest rose and fell as he let out a draft of air and tenderly rubbed her wrist with his thumb. "I want this to work for you. I know it's important because you think you have to succeed to earn your dad's approval."

  He did care about her. "I've never had my dad's approval. Not as an adult."

  Mitch's fingers slid up her forearm to her elbow. As if in a trance, he moved them to her shoulder and slid them under her hair. "A very beautiful adult."

  She swayed toward him, not wanting the cherishing note in his voice to diminish or the exciting light in his eyes to fade. Her lips parted on a small sigh.

  When he groaned and drew her to him, she knew desire had won over logic. This kiss was different from the first. His lips were hungry but not bruising, demanding but not angry. He greedily tasted her, but savored the contact as if he might not experience it again. When the pressure became more frustrating than satisfactory, his tongue slid along her upper lip and teased it until she parted it from the bottom one and he slipped inside. He was hot and strong. Her heart beat so fast she
couldn't think. Three deep breaths were the last thing on her mind.

  She wanted to feel his passion break loose. This was the real Mitch, the one who yearned to be free. She wanted to experience everything he had to give and she wanted to give back...needed to give back.

  She brushed her tongue against his, chased it into his mouth, and brought her hands up to caress his face. She felt the scar, wondered again how he'd been hurt, and tried to imagine whatever pain he'd experienced. Winding her arms about his neck, she held him tight, close, wanting to make his pain, his reserve, his doubts go away. With her fingers laced in his thick hair, she massaged his scalp with he same fervor and energy she invested in their kiss.

  His arms surrounded her as he slid her onto his lap. His hand caressed her hip. She gently nipped his tongue, unable to break away to tell him how excited she was, how thrilling his touch was, how wonderful this closeness was. When his hand sneaked under the back of her sweater, goose bumps broke out all over and she couldn't even imagine how she'd feel if he touched her more intimately.

  His palm came to rest boldly on her breast. She felt as if she'd explode. She squirmed on his lap as his finger played across her nipple, sending jolts of need to her womb. Underneath her thigh, she could feel how hard he was and how much he wanted her. She wanted him too. She wanted to feel him, touch him, hold him.

  Mitch couldn't think, couldn't reason, couldn't do anything but feel. The feelings and sensations were strange, some forgotten, some never before experienced. Laura's power to arouse him was exasperating, frustrating, exquisite. Why couldn't he control the rush of feelings? And why was he lured by her excitement? Why couldn't he keep away from her? Because she was everything he wasn't?

  He remembered how she'd looked at the observatory with the black sky and brilliant stars framing her profile. The moon she'd wished on had flirted with the blondest strands of her hair. He'd known then tonight would be much harder to deal with than last night. He'd been right. All he could think of was kissing her, wrapping his body around her.

  As the lacy piece of material gave under his fingertips, he didn't care about why he couldn't keep away from her. He didn't care about logic. He forgot about her background. He felt her desire as intensely as he felt his own. It was like hot lava--smoking, bubbling, flowing over them both.

  His fingertips appreciated the upper moon of her breast as he lost himself in her softness. He wanted more. He wanted now. He wanted Laura.

  He wanted too much.

  He couldn't have Laura. Now would lead to tomorrow. Tomorrow would lead to too many complications to contemplate. All because he'd given in to...to...feelings.

  Disgusted with himself, he jerked away and pulled his hand out from under her sweater. He took in harsh breaths that brought with them her sweet scent. Torture.

  Mitch felt a blush creep up his neck. Damn it all. There was no graceful route to get out of this one. If he'd been a drinking man, now would be the time for a triple shot. But he didn't depend on liquor. He didn't depend on anything or anyone but himself.

  When Laura saw his expression, she moved from his lap to the sofa. She looked flustered, disappointed, hurt, and sexy as hell with her hair mussed like that and her gray eyes wide. Not trying to hide her discomfort, she rearranged her sweater and pulled it down to her waist. Then she waited.

  "I don't know what to say."

  "Give it a shot."

  Her tone was husky but annoyed. Anger shook him. It was connected to what had just happened. He tamped it down, knowing this situation wasn't her fault but his.

  "I don't think so."

  She threw her hands in the air and tossed her hair back from her rosy face. "Sure, pretend this didn't happen, either. Face reality, Mitch!"

  "I am. That's why I stopped. You don't need this any more than I do. We're different, Laura. Like January and July, fire and ice. Besides that, you're Ray's daughter. I can't..." He swore.

  "Don't tell me what I need. Apparently you need to hide behind your relationship with my father and however many other excuses you can think up."

  Her lashing out hurt, and he didn't know if she was right or not. "I'm not hiding behind excuses. Sex isn't something I play with. You seem to jump right in. And I wonder why. Do you think you can get to Ray's business through me?" He saw her flush but didn't know if it was anger or hurt. He'd asked because it was suddenly very important for him to know.

  She exploded off the sofa, her hands balled into fists. "If you have to ask, you don't deserve an answer. I'm sick of your suspicion and doubts. Today I thought we'd finally--"

  "Connected?" he asked with a calm he wasn't feeling. He'd just driven a giant wedge between them. He needed space and time to resolve what he was thinking and feeling.

  "Yes. But obviously you don't feel the same way." She shook her head as if she didn't understand him at all, or as if she understood him too well. Then she sighed, rubbed her hand across her brow and moved toward her room. At the doorway, she faced him. "Do you still want to take the tour to Sedona tomorrow?"

  He mowed his hand through his hair. "I think Mandy will enjoy it."

  "At least we agree on that." Laura went into her room and closed the door.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Laura shifted the bag of groceries from her right arm to her left as she opened the door of her father's house. Before she could cross the foyer, Mitch appeared and took the bag from her. "I could have gone for groceries."

  "No need. It was on my way." Lord, how formal she sounded! One thing she and Mitch had never been was formal.

  Mitch shrugged, and a lock of black hair fell over his forehead. Laura itched to smooth it back, remembering the feel of it between her fingers. She'd missed him. He'd spent his days and nights in Harrisburg since their Arizona trip and this was the first she'd seen him in four days.

  For Mandy's sake, they'd maintained a strained, civil, bordering on trying-to-be-friendly tone after the fiasco in their hotel suite. Mitch's accusation that she was using him to try to get control of the business had hurt terribly, but it had also given her a glimmer of understanding.

  No wonder Mitch was fighting his feelings so hard. Who would want to fall in love with a woman who would do something like that? Nothing she could do would prove she wasn't manipulating him. He had to risk trusting her. She didn't think he'd had much practice risking or trusting.

  She unbuttoned her poncho, wishing she could bridge the gap between them, wanting to, needing to. "I called Nora to check on Mandy's sniffles. She mentioned she needed a few staples."

  "I got in about an hour ago. I read Mandy a story and she coughed a few times. So I called a pediatrician and he explained her runny nose could be from the change in altitude and temperature. He said to call him back if she gets a fever over one hundred. Otherwise, give her acetaminophen if she's uncomfortable."

  Before Laura could respond, he added, "I know you're a good mother, but I was worried and called him to ease my own mind. She's taking a nap now. I thought it would be good for her and she didn't argue."

  Laura was touched, not angry as he seemed to expect. Mandy's welfare seemed to be as important to him as it was to her. "Thank you for caring."

  Neither of them moved. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Mitch spoke. "I'll take these to the kitchen. Your boxes of clothing from Independence arrived but one of them was broken open. You might want to see if anything is damaged." He strode to the kitchen as she went into the living room, leaving Laura feeling cut adrift.

  There were two cartons, one with some of Mandy's winter clothes, the other with Laura's. Laura's box had a deep gash in the side and the top slit was broken open. Lifting the flaps, she removed a sweater that didn't look any the worse for the accident. Underneath it lay a framed photograph of her, Doug and Mandy. Anne must have thought she needed something familiar to hold onto.

  She sat on the recliner and slipped off her poncho and heels. Holding the picture in her hand, she ran her thumb over Doug's face. Sometimes she c
ouldn't see it clearly now when she closed her eyes. He was her past.

  When she looked up, Mitch stood in front of her. Could this man be her present? Her future?

  "Is anything damaged?" he asked.

  "I don't know. I didn't get very far."

  He nodded at her hands. "That's a good picture."

  In it her arm was wrapped around Doug's waist, his across her shoulders. A two-year-old Mandy stood at their legs. "We were at a picnic."

  Mitch's eyes searched her face. "Were you always that happy with him?"

  "We were happy a lot. But..."

  Mitch sat on the sofa and waited.

  "You're going to laugh."

  His eyes said he wouldn't.

  "I was the practical one."

  "Would you tell me about it?" he asked quietly.

  This was one of those times when she felt a bond between them, when she knew they were friends. "After Mandy was born, I couldn't pick up and go quite as easily. I had her to think about. I breast-fed and Doug couldn't help with that. I suppose he felt removed from her immediate care."

  "That didn't have to happen. There's a lot a father can do."

  Somehow she knew Mitch wouldn't be the type of father to sleep while the baby cried. Or the type of father who would resent the time and care a mother gave to her child. He'd be proud of it.

  "Was he a good father?"

  She was honest because she sensed it was important to Mitch. "When he wanted to be. But he could be easily distracted. I never completely trusted him with her.

  "He sounds irresponsible and selfish," Mitch muttered.

  Laura bit back a defense, knowing ideas of responsibility didn't always jive. "You thought I was irresponsible. You still might."

  Mitch met her gaze directly. "I know you better now. You're impulsive but not irresponsible--especially not with Mandy. How could you be happy with someone who didn't put her first?"

  Mitch wasn't criticizing, he was trying to find out about her life. "Doug had good qualities and faults, too. If you had known him-- He was so easy to be with. When we started out, he loved me for who I was, not what he wanted me to be. And that's the way I loved him." Though in the months after Mandy's birth that had changed. When Laura could no longer be footloose, Doug was less accepting of her "mother" role.