Stop in the Name of Love

by Nina Bruhns

  She doubted if she’d be able to think about anything else for a month. But it wouldn’t make any difference. She didn’t want to get involved with him. With anyone right now.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and jogged down the steps.

  She leaned against the doorjamb and let out the breath that was choking her. She wasn’t hiding. She just liked her safe, secure life exactly as she was building it. Honestly, she did. She had her Master Plan to complete, and when she’d checked off all the items, her life would be perfect. Her days would be filled with her cozy house, her satisfying job, her cherished roses, her close friends, and a brand new pet. Only then would she be ready to take a chance on love.

  “Bridge!” When he turned, she had no idea what she wanted to say. “I—”

  He flashed her a roguish wink. “See you tomorrow, angel.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “That is it, Mary Alice Cathryn,” declared Nancy the next morning. They had met early at school to cut out construction paper shapes for the day’s art projects. “I can’t believe it. You’re drawling.” Nancy speared her with a look worthy of Sister Benedict back at Immaculate Conception.

  Mary Alice nearly groaned out loud at the name of her elementary school alma mater and the mental image it conjured up. Why did everything remind her of sex this morning? “I am not drawling,” she insisted.

  “Where were you last night?” Nancy demanded. “I called you three times.”

  “What happened to the dirty movie?” Mary Alice asked, concentrating on not snipping off her finger along with bits of paper. Blood spatter made bad glue.

  “It was great. We only made it halfway through. And don’t change the subject.”

  She avoided her friend’s laser-like gaze. “I was out.”

  Nancy tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “Spill.”

  Mary Alice took a deep breath and let it out. “If you must know, I went to the Blue Palomino with one of the guys from the road crew.”

  Nancy froze, her eyes going wide as beach balls. “You’re dating a musician?”

  Mary Alice let out a nervous laugh. “Not that kind of road crew. One of the construction workers fixing the road in front of my house.”

  Nancy just stared.

  “You might want to pick your jaw up off the floor before one of the kids trips over it,” Mary Alice muttered.

  “I— You— That’s— Wow.”

  “Why thank you, Nancy. As a matter of fact, I did have a wonderful time. And, yes, he’s intelligent, incredibly good looking, and a great dancer, too. Did I mention his kisses could scorch paint off the walls?”

  “Mary Alice!” A slow grin crept over her friend’s stunned face. “Scorch paint? Really?”

  Mary Alice stifled the urge to touch the tip of her tongue. “Down to the primer.”

  Nancy let out a low, sultry laugh. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you weren’t drawling but drooling.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “When do I get to meet him?”

  Mary Alice glanced at the clock and calmly started gathering up the mess. “It was just one date. I’m not seeing him again.”

  Incredulous, Nancy folded her arms across her chest. “Why not? Worried about your paint job?”

  Mary Alice shot her friend a withering look. “He’s a confirmed bachelor. He doesn’t want a real relationship—he’s just looking for someone to keep his bed warm and lively.”

  “And this is a bad thing because…?”

  “Oh, Nan. You know me better than that.”

  “Yeah. I know what you want everyone to believe—all that prim and proper stuff. And I know how you’ve convinced yourself that buying a house, having the right job, getting into the proper service clubs, and volunteering with the correct organizations will make your life fulfilling.”

  “Which they will,” she said firmly.

  Nancy propped her chin on a hand. “Bullshit. I’ve seen the longing in your eyes when I talk about Ben and me. What you really need is someone to love. And someone to love you back.”

  Mary Alice looked away, wishing she could summon a lie and deny it. She resorted to her Master Plan. “I’m getting a dog as soon as I can research appropriate breeds.”

  “Dog schmog. Listen to yourself, Mac! It’s been three years since Jack died. You need to move on with your life. But you’re running as fast as you can in the other direction because you’re afraid you might like what you find in the arms of a man you’re actually attracted to.”

  “There’s a big difference between love and attraction,” Mary Alice pointed out.

  “What’s wrong with both? Honey, you can’t bottle yourself up forever. Eventually, you have to let yourself feel again, or you’ll go crazy. You have so much love inside you it’s just bursting to come out. Does this guy want to see you again?”

  Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, Mary Alice reluctantly nodded.

  “So, go! Give yourself a chance to live! You might even change his mind about the relationship part.” Nancy peered at her calculatingly. “And if you have a little fun along the way, what’s the harm? You’re over twenty-one.”

  “That’s part of the problem,” she said, blocking out the part of her that was actually listening to her friend’s advice. “I’m old enough to know the consequences—”

  Suddenly, the door to the playroom opened, and she looked up, infinitely relieved at the timely interruption. She smiled at the tiny newcomer. “Ivy! Hi, sweetie.”

  Ivy was one of the kids in her Toddler Class. The towheaded girl shyly buried her cheek in her foster mother’s skirt as she was led through the door.

  “Thanks so much for letting me bring her in a few minutes early today, Mary Alice. You have no idea what a help it is.”

  She smiled. “No problem, Heather. Ivy, would you like to help carry the construction paper into the art area?”

  Nodding, the little girl gave her mother a big hug and kiss good-bye, and came to stand next to Mary Alice. As Heather turned to go, she blew a kiss to the three-year-old and sent a silent, grateful smile to Mary Alice. They had worked hard all year to get Ivy to the point where she trusted her teachers enough to willingly leave the protective shield of her foster mother’s arms. She still didn’t talk, not a word, but she loved playing with the other children. As long as Mary Alice was in sight, she did fine.

  It was adults Ivy had trouble with, and all of the nursery school staff was involved in rebuilding her trust.

  “Can I come with you?” Nancy asked gently.

  With serious eyes, Ivy looked up at Mary Alice, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. The little girl glanced hesitantly at Nancy, then tugged at Mary Alice’s hand, dismissing the other teacher. She and Nancy exchanged a look of understanding.

  “That’s okay. I should be getting up to my classroom, anyway,” Nancy said.

  “See you after school?” Mary Alice asked.

  Her friend shook her head. “Gotta go pick up Ben at the hospital.” She grinned. “Assuming he lives through the tests.”

  Mary Alice chuckled. She admired her friend for being so calm in the face of her husband’s mysterious symptoms. She would have been a wreck, even if it was just tests. “I’ll give you a call later to see how it went.”

  “You do that. We can finish our conversation.”

  Mary Alice made a face. “Come on, Ivy. Let’s get this art project set up, shall we?”

  But for that whole day at school, Mary Alice couldn’t shake her friend’s advice.

  Give yourself a chance to live.

  Was she fooling herself to think she could stick to the strict timeline she was so carefully following? She did have a lot of love to give. Up until now, she’d believed showering it on her tiny students and buying a dog would be enough to keep her happy until she was truly ready to risk falling in love again. But she had to admit, Nancy had touched a nerve. Would Mary Alice ever not be terrified to take that leap? Maybe her friend was right about moving on sooner—just taking a
chance, and jumping into the deep end.

  Mary Alice longed for children of her own. And to make that happen she’d have to overcome her fear of getting close to a man emotionally. Because purely physical closeness would feel wrong without the emotional part, too.

  She lightly touched her lips. Well. At least, she’d thought it would. But apparently there was something to be said for purely physical pleasures.

  Who knew?

  Even so, Russell Bridger was the absolute worst possible man to test her sexual wings with. He was footloose and fancy-free. He wasn’t interested in a real relationship. And as tempting as it was to just go for the temporary fun, she knew herself well enough to know she wouldn’t settle for the kind of no-strings sex he was offering.

  The possibility of having a real family—husband and children—would be the only reason she’d risk putting her heart on the line again. She wasn’t ready for anything else.

  Hell, she wasn’t even ready for that.

  Letting out a sigh, she chided herself for even going there. Marriage and kids? Seriously? Talk about getting ahead of herself. Agreeing to a date or two was only the smallest first step toward the possibility of a relationship. Who said it would go any further with Bridge, even if he were the ideal guy? They weren’t talking instant picket fences, here.

  And maybe, after giving dating a try, she’d realize she really wasn’t ready to take that step yet. Better the man didn’t have any expectations, in that case. Better a man who wouldn’t be hurt if she felt she had to leave him.

  Better a man like Bridge.

  Mindless sex wasn’t intrinsically a bad thing. Lots of people did it. Men and women. But she had been the living definition of prim and proper for so long, she didn’t know if she could make such a drastic a change in her lifestyle. Especially on her first true venture into the dating world since losing her fiancé. Mindless sex was definitely not an item on her Master List.

  On the other hand, she would never know if she even wanted to try mindless sex with Bridge unless she saw him again.

  God, this was so confusing.

  And heaven help her, she was actually beginning to take Nancy’s suggestion seriously.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Later that afternoon, Mary Alice did her best to concentrate on the flowers as she groomed the rose garden in front of her cottage in preparation for the Historic Rose Society membership committee’s visit the next day. But it was impossible. The whole time, she just continued to debate with herself.

  She could see Bridge now, working out on the street in front of Charlie’s house, all flexing muscle and bronzed skin under his bright orange construction vest. The sexy planes and angled cheekbones behind his mirrored sunglasses were enough to take any woman’s breath away.

  If she had even a lick of sense, she wouldn’t let herself get within a hundred yards of a man who so blatantly exuded masculine temptation. She needed to peel her eyes off that sexy body before she gave her rose bush a Mohawk by accident.

  If only she could talk her eyes into moving.

  She and Bridge hadn’t spoken since he dropped her off last night. He’d been busy directing a long line of traffic when she’d walked by that morning to get to her car, and when she parked it after school, he’d been talking with his foreman.

  She realized with a start that, despite her mental flip-flopping about sleeping with him, she’d missed his usual sexy flirting. Missed the way he looked at her—like she was a beautiful, desirable woman.

  He glanced up and waved when he saw her studying him from under the brim of her gardening hat. Knowing she was playing with fire, but unable to help herself, she sat back on her heels and smiled, raising a gloved hand in greeting.

  Girl, you are in such big trouble.

  A short time later the crew packed it in for the day, and she spotted Bridge heading her way. On her knees, she brushed at the dirt covering her jeans and T-shirt, only succeeding in making the mess worse.

  “Hi. Doing some gardening?”

  She smiled up at him. “Wow. You should be a detective.”

  For a split second, he froze. Then he cleared his throat. “They coming today for your interview?”

  “Tomorrow.” She’d told him last night about her quest to join the Historic Rose Society and have a couple of Mrs. Trent’s old roses listed in their registry. “Must have the yard looking its best.”

  “Well, it looks great to me.” He tossed his hard hat onto the grass and lowered himself down beside it. “They’re bound to be impressed.”

  “Thanks.” She looked around. It was pretty, she had to admit. The lush, English-style garden was one of the things that had sold her on the cottage the minute she’d laid eyes on it. The plants had been wild and rampant, neglected due to Mrs. Trent’s failing health, but in the two years since Mary Alice bought the place, she’d gotten the gardens into picture-perfect condition.

  The ideal setting for a spinster teacher-lady hiding out from life, Nancy had said.

  Mary Alice frowned. “The lawn really should be mowed, but it’s getting dark now, and I won’t have time tomorrow after school.”

  Bridge lay back, propping himself up on an elbow, looking absurdly handsome. “I’ll knock off early tomorrow and mow it for you, if you like. You have a mower?”

  “Yeah,” she said hesitantly. “That’s very nice, but you really shouldn’t—”

  “I’d like to do it. I live in an apartment, and I miss putzin’ around in a yard.” He broke off a long grass stalk and chewed on it. “Besides, I’d want something in exchange.”

  She pulled off her gardening gloves and regarded him suspiciously. “Forget it, Bridger. It can stay long.”

  He let out a low chuckle. “What are we talkin’ about here? The grass or my—”

  “Both!”

  “—face,” he finished with a twinkle in his eye. “Ow!” He laughed when she smacked him on the shoulder with her dirty gloves. He grabbed them, pulled, and rolled onto his back, bringing her down on his chest when she didn’t let go soon enough.

  “Oof!” Her breath whooshed out when she met that solid wall of muscle.

  Not that she wouldn’t have lost it anyway.

  She clutched his shoulders to keep from squishing into him. Unfortunately, that just gave her a better view.

  A layer of road dust covered his face around the clean mask left by his sunglasses. It clung to a sexy five o’clock shadow. His vest had slipped aside, revealing tantalizingly defined pecs and a set of flat, brown nipples. A decorative but modest sprinkle of black hair curled down his chest, the funnel disappearing under her where she lay across him. Through the soft cotton of her T-shirt and sports bra, the tips of her breasts grazed his body, instantly pebbling at the contact.

  That little fact had obviously not escaped his attention, because the expression on his face as he gazed up at them resembled a hungry wolf shocked to suddenly find a spring lamb napping in his lap.

  “You haven’t heard my proposition yet,” the wolf said.

  “Oh, I’ve heard it loud and clear.” She tried to escape, but his fingers caught her around the ribs and held fast.

  He winked. “I’ll mow your lawn if you come to an engagement party with me tomorrow.”

  She stopped wrestling long enough to hike a brow. He’d managed to surprise her again.

  “A couple kids from the road crew decided to get married.”

  “Kids?”

  He shrugged, grinning. “With age comes wisdom. You wouldn’t let the wise old bachelor go alone, would you?”

  She should, of course. That wisdom crack made her want nothing more than to challenge his über-chauvinistic attitude. But the way he held her suspended above him, his chest subtly caressing the tips of her breasts with each breath, completely obliterated the will to refuse.

  “You’re insufferable, you know that?” she gritted out.

  His grin went lopsided. “One of my more endearing traits.”

  A chorus of hoots and
whistles suddenly rose from the street. “Yeow! Bridge!”

  “Doin’ a little public relations work on the side?”

  Mary Alice blanched, then squirmed to get out of his grip. Bridge groaned, and she was fairly certain it wasn’t because he was embarrassed. Her leg had been thrown over his thigh when she fell, and she could feel his growing arousal pressing intimately into her. Her face blazed.

  “Got a wild one there, Bridge!”

  “Think she likes you!”

  Mary Alice scampered up with as much dignity as she could muster. Ignoring the teasing men—all of them—she gathered her gardening tools and walked coolly and calmly toward the backyard.

  “Better ask her to the party before she gets away!”

  “Mary Alice!” She heard Bridge follow her to the small wooden shed where she determinedly busied herself cleaning and putting away her tools. He peeked in and she saw him grimace at the old hand mower leaning against the wall.

  “Sorry about that.” He propped himself against the open door, a grin easing onto his face.

  “So, there really is a party.” Shocker.

  He bristled in mock offense. “What? You doubted the sincerity of my motives?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “So, do we have a deal? Though, I should charge double because of that antique mower,” he grumbled.

  She tried to keep a serious face. She wanted so badly to poke that cocky, impudent self-confidence of his and turn down his—party or no—ridiculously transparent bargain. But against her will, laughter bubbled up instead of the snappy rejection he deserved.

  What a sight they must have been, both covered in dirt, panting on the front lawn like a couple of hormonal teenagers. She clapped a hand across her mouth and giggled. “Oh, Bridge. What am I going to do with you?”

  His eyes filled with mischief. “I could give you a suggestion or two…” He unpropped himself and approached her.