She knew it would end all too soon once Stewart returned home tomorrow and she proved her theory.But she still had twenty-four hours left.
Until then, she was living for the moment, and fulfilling her most erotic dreams with Mason McGraw.
She stifled a yawn, took a huge sip of her coffee and smiled at the elderly couple sitting on the couch across from her.
“So, Lurline,” Charlene said, glancing at her notes. “How have things been going?”
“Perfect, Doc. Things between me and Eustess are downright perfect. Ain’t that right, Eustess?”
“You’re darned tootin’.”
“That means yes,” Lurline said.
Charlene smiled. “I figured as much. Now, tell me what you mean by perfect? Are you talking more? Are you doing more activities together?”
“Oh, we’re talking up a storm. Ain’t that right, Eustess?”
“You’re darned tootin’.”
“And just yesterday, Eustess offered to help me can pickles. Right, Eustess?” She nudged her husband.
“You’re darned tootin’.”
“Why, Eustess has always loved my pickles. He couldn’t wait for canning season. I’d get them into the jars and he’d turn right around and open them back up.”
“Really? So this is something you used to do together?”
“All the time. Ain’t that right, Eustess?”
“You’re darned tootin’.”
“That’s wonderful,” Charlene said.
“And that ain’t all, Doc. We’ve been doing all sorts of things together here lately. We’re shucking peas and working out in the tomato garden again. We even went for a walk the other morning right at sun up, just like we used to ’afore the kids were born. It’s just like the old days.”
“This is really fantastic. Eustess—” she started to say, only to have the man cut her off.
“You’re darned tootin’.”
Lurline elbowed him. “She ain’t asked you nothin’ yet, you old coot.”
“Oh.”
“Go on,” Lurline said after giving Eustess a stern look. “Ask him something.”
“Are you enjoying the extra time you’re spending with your wife?”
“You’re darned tootin’.”
“And the activities that you two are sharing? You’re all right with those?”
“You’re darned tootin’.”
“See, Doc,” Lurline said. “I told you. We’re cured. You’re a miracle worker.”
“I haven’t done anything. You’ve both obviously been working very hard. You worked your own miracle. You’ve backtracked in your relationship to re-discover the common ground that drew you together in the first place.”
Lurline smiled. “Does this mean we don’t have to come back?”
“Not unless you start arguing again.”
“Not us, Doc. We wouldn’t dream of starting up, would we, Eustess?”
“You’re darned tootin’.”
Lurline nudged her husband. “You’re supposed to say no.”
“You told me to agree—yowww!” He rubbed at his leg.
“Let me rephrase that,” Lurline said. “We’ve stopped arguing for good, haven’t we, Eustess?”
“You’re darned tootin’,” he grumbled, rubbing his thigh. “I think.”
“I’LL PICK YOU UP at eight,” Mason told Charlene after he helped Lurline and Eustess out to his truck. He stood in her office looking as handsome as ever in a green button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of faded jeans. It was her first glimpse of him that morning because Eustess and Lurline had been her first appointment and they’d been waiting for her when she arrived at her office.
Late, of course. Thanks to Mason and last night’s skinny-dipping adventure.“Tonight’s my turn,” she reminded him. He smelled of horse and leather and early morning sunshine. Her nostrils flared. “I thought we could stay at my place and have a little food fun. Maybe some whipped cream and carefully placed cherries.”
He slid his arms around her and pulled her close. “We’ll do anything you want, sugar.” He planted a quick kiss on her lips. “But there’s someplace I want to take you first.”
“Where?”
He grinned. “We’re going to a rodeo. The Romeo County Fair & Rodeo isn’t for another two months, but Cherryville is having theirs this weekend. The competition starts tonight.”
Charlene’s heart started to race as she remembered all the times she’d wanted to attend the local festivities and never been able to. She’d dreamed of what it would be like. The noise, the excitement, the cowboys. But she’d never experienced it firsthand.
Mason was about to change all of that.
Charlene smiled. She had a feeling this was going to be the best night of her life.
FRIDAY TURNED OUT to be the worst night of Charlene’s life.
She sat at her desk early Saturday morning—she’d gone into the office to catch up on all of her case notes which had fallen behind because she’d been busy all week with Mason—and ate half a box of Happy Camper cookies.But even the sweet, addictive Chocolate Chippers couldn’t soothe the terrible truth.
The worst night, all right.
It had started out promising enough. They’d arrived at the fairgrounds, purchased a couple of sodas and a funnel cake, and made it to their seats just in time for the first event.
That’s when Charlene had realized that the rodeo was nothing like she’d expected. It was too crowded and dusty and dangerous.
She’d taken one look at the man sitting atop the vicious bronc who’d shot out of the gate, and she’d pictured Mason, and her heart had all but stopped beating.
Because she liked him.
She’d realized it then, and it had put a whole new twist on things.
She wasn’t supposed to like him. There was absolutely no basis for her to like him. They had nothing in common.
Just lust.
Just like her parents.
Charlene picked up the phone and dialed her mother’s cell phone. She’d given up asking questions a long time ago, but she needed a reminder of why she shouldn’t get attached to Mason. She needed it in the worst way.
“Hello?” The familiar voice carried over the line.
“Hey, Mom. How’s everything going?”
“Wonderful, dear. Your aunt and I are at an RV park outside of Fort Lauderdale and the weather is absolutely beautiful.”
“That’s good.” Charlene made a little more small talk about the weather, before she added, “You know, I talked to Dad a few weeks ago and he’s getting nothing but rain up in Pennsylvania.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t talked to your father.”
“Because you can’t stand him.”
“I never said I couldn’t stand your father.”
“You act like it. You won’t talk about him.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“But there is. Your past relationship. The breakup. The div—”
“I’ve gotta go, dear,” her mother cut in. “Your aunt’s calling me. We’re taking the bus to the beach.”
“But—” Charlene stammered, but the line had already clicked.
So much for reassurance.
“Somebody had a bad night,” Marge declared as she walked in, a stack of charts in one hand and a giant mug of steaming coffee in her other.
“What are you doing here?” Charlene asked her.
“The same thing you’re doing here. Catching up. Then again, you don’t look like you’re doing much work at the moment. You’re moping.”
“I’m not moping.”
“I know moping when I see it. I guess things aren’t working out with you and that tall, dark dream of a man.”
“No, things aren’t working out. They’re not supposed to work out.”
“Come again?”
“He’s not my type.”
Marge seemed to think about that. “True, but I still don’t
see your point.”
“We’re total opposites. We have no common ground.”
“You like each other, don’t you?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m not supposed to like him. He’s all wrong for me.” She shook her head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not making the same mistake that my mother made by falling for the wrong man.”
“The wrong man? Your father wasn’t the wrong man for your mother. He was the right man, which was why he took one look at your mother and fell head over heels. And she did the same.”
“That’s lust.”
“Lust, love, it all goes hand in hand. If ever there was a match made in heaven, it was that one.”
“Hello? My parents are divorced.”
“True, but that wasn’t because they didn’t have a good marriage. Your mother loved your father and she loved him.”
“And then it faded. Because there was no common ground.”
“Is that what you think happened?” When Charlene nodded, Marge gave her a disbelieving look and sank down into a nearby chair. “You really don’t know the story behind it, do you?”
“Do you?”
“Are you kidding? I was your father’s secretary for all the years he worked here. I know everything, and I can tell you right now that the divorce had nothing to do with a sour relationship. If anything, it was the depth of their feelings for each other that forced them into a divorce.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Most people get divorced to save themselves. They either want out of a bad marriage, or they want to get into something they think is better. It’s all about number one. But for your mother and father, the divorce came about because they were each trying to spare the other more pain and embarrassment.”
“I’m still not following you.”
“Charlene, your father was a financial genius when it came to other people’s money. But he wasn’t nearly as good with his own. He liked to gamble.”
The minute Marge said the words, a long-forgotten memory surfaced. She saw her father filling in his name for a football pool for the Super Bowl. Not once, but several times.
“It started small at first, with football pools and such. Your mother didn’t really understand the appeal—to her it was like throwing away a dollar and she would never do that. But your father enjoyed it. Before long he was going to the dog tracks over in Karnes County every Friday afternoon. One day, he bet a little too much and he had to take out an unofficial loan to cover himself.”
“Unofficial? You mean, he stole money.”
Marge nodded. “But I know he intended to put the money back. He was just backed into a corner and he couldn’t touch his own money without your mother knowing it. Your father wasn’t a bad man. He was just weak. When the powers that be over at the Savings & Loan found out he was skimming funds to cover his debts, they threatened to press charges. He borrowed money from his family up north to cover what he owed and then he resigned. Your mother couldn’t handle the prospect of your father without a job. She’d been so poor growing up and when she realized that he had a long road to haul before he could ever hold down another job, it put a strain on her mentally. He didn’t want to hurt her, and so he decided to leave. She knew he needed help and that he couldn’t get it here, and so she let him. Your father went up north where he had family who could help him through his rehabilitation, and your mother stayed here to raise you.”
The truth crystallized and suddenly all the bits and pieces of her past finally made sense. Her father’s sudden leaving. Her mother’s quiet acceptance. “Their relationship didn’t fizzle. It died out,” she heard herself say, remembering Mason’s words.
“If you want to know what I think, I don’t think it died out at all. I think they still have a thing for each other.”
“Sure they do. Neither one of them will say two words about the other.”
“Exactly. They avoid the subject because it reminds them of what they once had. And what they lost. Speaking of which, I’m going to lose my noon hair appointment over at the Hair Saloon if I don’t finish up these notes and get out of here.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” Charlene asked as Marge stood to head back into the outer office.
Marge shrugged. “You never asked.”
The news haunted Charlene for the rest of the morning as she tried to finish up her work.
Her parents didn’t hate each other. If anything, the more she thought about it, the more she felt that Marge was right. Maybe they did still have feelings for each other.
At the same time, they weren’t together, which meant those feelings weren’t enough to make for a solid, lasting relationship.
Because her theory was right. They had no common ground, no shared interests, no meeting of the minds.
And Charlene would prove it tomorrow night.
Until then, she was getting her priorities straight. The transformation was complete, which meant there was no reason for her to see Mason again.
It was over.
MASON FINISHED the last of his early-morning chores and headed inside the house on Sunday morning to use the telephone. Again.
Charlene was avoiding him. He’d had a hunch yesterday when she hadn’t returned his call. When he’d shown up at her house, she’d made an excuse about not feeling well. But he knew something was different between them. Something had changed.Over.
The word echoed in his head as he entered the house and headed down the hallway to the kitchen.
Over wasn’t a possibility. They were too good together.
Eustess and Lurline were arguing over a piece of bacon when he walked into the room. They took one look at him and the arguing stopped.
He turned his attention to Rance who sat at the kitchen table, his cast propped on a chair, the phone pressed to his ear.
“Come on,” he was saying. “You have to do this.”
“Get off,” Mason told his younger brother. “I need to make a call.”
“Just a sec. Listen, I really need this favor—” Rance’s words came to a dead stop as Mason pressed the button on the wall unit and disconnected the call. “Hey, what did you do that for?”
“I need the phone. Now.”
“Well, I needed it, too.”
“Not more than me.”
“Says you. Wilson Bingham saw me at the diner the other night and he told Morris Townsend, who told Jackie Donner, who told Marsha Rhinehart who just happens to be getting up close and personal with Clay Codge.” He ran a hand over his face. “He’s going to tell Deanie and she’s going to be out here like a fly on a slice of cherry pie.”
“Maybe she won’t care.”
“Yeah, right.” He shook his head. “Christ, I’m screwed.”
“Welcome to the club.” Mason punched in Charlene’s number, only to get her answering machine. Again. He left a message asking her to call him before sliding the receiver into place.
“Trouble with the girlfriend?”
“Maybe.” He shook his head. The only trouble was that Charlene still thought she was right about her theory. But that would change soon enough tonight and they could get back to enjoying each other.
Tonight.
He held tight to the thought, handed his brother back the phone, then turned on his heel to go and take a shower. Tonight she would see for herself that physical attraction was everything. And Mason intended be there when she did.
“CHARLENE?” Stewart’s amazed voice greeted her when she walked into the Steak-n-Bake on Sunday evening.
She wore a low-cut black dress that clung to her body like a second skin and three-inch heels. She’d spent four hours on her hair and makeup and she looked every bit the daring diva.She gave him a wink and a smile. “Welcome home.”
He frowned as she slid into the seat opposite him. “What happened to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“The way you’re dressed
… Your hair… All that makeup…” He shook his head. “What happened?”
“I had a little makeover. Do you like?” She did a suggestive lip lick and gave him her most sultry look.
“I, um, guess.”
“You do?”
He shrugged. “If you like it, that’s all that really matters. Listen, I’m glad you could meet me here because I really need to talk to you.” He leveled a stare at her. “It’s about us.”
Here it comes, she thought. He was going to declare his devotion, prove her right and suggest they start seeing each other.
“I think we should stop seeing each other.”
His words registered and she blinked. “What?”
“I mean, I know we’re not really seeing each other right now, not romantically, that is, but I think we should stop seeing each other, period. It’s just that I’ve met someone and she just doesn’t understand the whole friendship thing.”
He’d met someone. No doubt a fellow pediatrician from the conference. Someone even more perfect for him than Charlene.
“We’ve been seeing each other off and on for the past six months.”
“Six months?”
“I wanted to tell you before, but I wasn’t sure it was going to work out between us. And you’re such a good friend that I didn’t want to act prematurely and risk losing our friendship over something that might not work out. But then she went to the conference with me and I realized that I just can’t live without her.”
“That’s great.” Relief washed through her, followed by a strange sense of panic. Relief? She wasn’t supposed to feel relieved. Her theory was dead in the water. All of the common ground that she was so sure made them perfect for each other faded in the face of Stewart’s “I can’t live without her.”
“So, um, tell me about her. What does she do for a living? Where is she from?”
“She works here actually. She’s the seating hostess.” He pointed to the tall redhead that stood near the front door. She wore a short red dress that hugged her breasts and emphasized her long legs. Her hair was long and tousled, her makeup dark and sultry. “We met when she seated me for a business dinner. I asked you here tonight because I wanted you to meet her and I wanted her to meet you.” His eyes took on a desperate light. “I was hoping you might reassure her that there’s never been anything between you and me. That we’re just friends.” He lowered his voice a notch. “She’s really jealous.”
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