And, then, with a final kiss that stole the last of her breath away, he left her to her dreams. She didn’t need a textbook to figure out what they meant. The tangled sheets and aching need swelling low in her belly told her all she needed to know.
Chapter 13
Ann badly needed to run. Maybe if she ran far enough and fast enough, she could reduce the stressful effect of Hank’s nonstop flirting. Her nerves were so ragged she could barely get through the day without wanting to scream.
Finally, in an act of sheer desperation, she set her alarm a half hour earlier than usual. Maybe she could sneak out of the house before he got up and put in five miles of hard running before breakfast. She spent most of the night rolling over and checking the clock, just to be sure she wouldn’t sleep through the alarm. Ten minutes before it was due to go off, she hit the switch and dragged herself out of bed. She tugged on her clothes in record time, ran her fingers hastily through her hair and tiptoed through the still-dark house. She went straight through the kitchen, not even pausing to put on the coffeepot or do her warm-ups. She’d do the exercises outside, where there was less chance of Hank hearing her.
She had put one foot on the porch when she heard the creak of a rocking chair, and Hank’s quiet, “Morning, Annie.”
It was all she could do to keep from crying in frustration. “Why are you up?” she asked, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice.
“Waiting for you.”
“But I didn’t… I’m not usually…” She glared at him. “How did you know?”
“Calculated guess. Besides, I’ve heard you tossing and turning for the past week. I figured sooner or later you’d have to get back into your routine and work off your frustrations.”
“Frustrations?” she said weakly.
He chuckled. “You know about frustration, Annie. It’s what happens when a person tries to deny their feelings, especially their sexual feelings.”
She could feel heat flooding her cheeks. “I am not denying my feelings.”
“Then why can’t you sleep?”
“I… I have a lot on my mind.”
“Me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Now leave me alone. I’m going running.”
“Warm up first,” he warned.
She had absolutely no intention of doing warm-ups in front of Hank Riley while he ogled her. She took off across the yard, running. Hank trotted after her. She increased her pace. With a barely perceptible output of effort, Hank kept in step.
This was not reducing her stress. This was driving her crazy.
“Hank, why are you doing this?” she asked plaintively.
“Doing what?”
“Pestering me.”
“Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was keeping you company.”
“I don’t want company.”
“You will when your muscles knot up because you didn’t warm up.”
“My muscles will be just fine,” she said. But with a perversity she should have expected, her calf tensed painfully. She winced and tried to run through the pain. It got worse, until she was finally forced to slow down. Naturally Hank was gloating.
“Give me your leg.”
“There is nothing wrong with my leg.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, woman, sit down and let me massage your leg.”
It hurt too badly to refuse. She limped over to a tree stump and sat down. Hank knelt in front of her. But the minute his strong fingers curved around her calf, every other muscle in her body tensed.
“Relax, Annie. This is not a seduction.”
The reassurance was not convincing. It felt like a seduction. Only the setting seemed incongruous. With sure strokes, Hank continued to knead her leg. The muscle finally loosened. The pain eased.
“I’m okay now,” she said shakily.
“As long as I’m down here, there’s something I want to ask you.”
She regarded him warily. “What?”
“Marry me, Annie.”
Every muscle froze again. Hank unconsciously began massaging. “Well?” he said.
Her throat was so dry she couldn’t squeak out a single word. Nervously she licked her lips. “That sounds more like an order than a question,” she evaded.
His lips twitched. “Okay. I’ll try again. Will you marry me?”
“Why?”
His fingers were sliding up and down her leg, creating more of that unbearable tension that curled low in her abdomen. “Because I love you.”
The words hovered between them, the most powerful temptation on the face of the earth, next to the effect of his touch.
“Hank, face it,” she said, trying desperately to cling to rational thought when she was oh-so-tempted to throw herself straight into his arms. “You and I would drive each other crazy inside of a month.”
“Probably less,” he concurred. “That doesn’t mean it’s not worth a try.”
“A try? That’s your idea of marriage?”
“Annie, I am not good with words. You know what I mean. What we have is special. It’s something I never experienced growing up. I never had a father. I had a mother who didn’t know the meaning of love. Now that I finally understand what it is, I don’t want to let it slip away.”
“Hank, you don’t understand anything about love. What you’re feeling is the challenge, the excitement of the chase. Once you’ve conquered all my reservations, once you’ve gotten me in front of a preacher to say all those pretty words about love and honor, it would lose its excitement. You’d be bored.”
“In this household I’d have to be dead to be bored. There hasn’t been a dull moment since the day I moved in.”
He sounded so convincing. The look in his eyes practically scorched her with its intensity. But she knew better. He’d only been there a couple of months. The novelty hadn’t worn off yet. But it would and she would not put them both through the torment of a divorce when that happened.
“No, Hank. And if you bring it up again, I’ll send you packing.”
If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He simply held out his hand and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go, Annie.”
She was suddenly feeling oddly let down. Finishing the run would fix that, she told herself briskly, and began jogging.
“Annie?” Hank said beside her. She glanced over at him. “You can’t possibly run fast enough to get away from me.”
There was a deliberate taunt in his voice when he said it, but it was the glint of determination in his eyes that set her blood on fire.
Whispers. Ann had never before noticed so much whispering going on around the house. Usually she felt like wearing earmuffs to shut out the yelling. Now, though, every time she walked into a room she was greeted by sudden silence and guilty looks. They were in cahoots all right, but why? If her birthday hadn’t been months away, she’d have thought they were planning a surprise party.
Whatever was going on, Hank didn’t seem to be in on it. She’d noticed that the kids were being just as secretive around him. It was beginning to get on her nerves, which were already shaky enough thanks to Hank’s lingering looks and deliberately casual touches. She continued to try to avoid him, but that wasn’t working one bit better than solving the mystery of the children’s behavior.
She was sitting with him in the kitchen late one night, unable to think of a thing to say to combat the increasingly tense silence, when she finally said in desperation, “Have you noticed that the kids are being a little weird these days?”
“Weird?” He shook his head. “How?”
“Quiet. Secretive. What do you suppose they’re up to?”
“Maybe they’re planning an overthrow of the household leadership,” he joked.
She scowled impatiently. “Very funny. I’m trying to be serious here. All the sneaking around has me worried.”
“Forget it, Annie. Do you see any evidence that they’re upset about anything?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Even Jaso
n has been on his best behavior since the trip to Miami, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“And Tracy’s not as moody.”
“True.” Tracy had, however, started offering to lend her clothes in colors she knew Hank liked. She’d even brought home a new blusher, eye shadow and a bolder shade of lipstick and left them openly on Ann’s dresser. The hints were obvious and, no doubt, part of the whole plot that had her worried.
“But don’t you think it’s odd…” she began.
“Ann, there is nothing to worry about. Drink your tea.”
He was trying to placate her. She recognized the tone. It added to her jittery state of mind. “It’s so pleasant to have someone to talk things over with,” she snapped irritably.
“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said, deliberately misinterpreting her sarcasm. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
“Well, you can just go to hell. I have nothing to say to you.”
She got up and stomped out of the room, passing Tracy and Jason in the doorway. She caught the odd look that passed between them, but she was too furious to try to interpret it. Right now all she wanted to do was get away from Hank and the emotions that seemed to get all tangled up inside her whenever she was in his presence.
She had wasted an entire afternoon in her office stretched out on her sofa trying to analyze what was happening between them. She’d viewed it as something of a private therapy session. She had toted up Hank’s attributes, which were many. She had pinpointed each and every one of his flaws, also legion, and decided, on balance, that there was no rational reason to consider a future with the man. He would never be the placid, rock-solid, even-tempered man she’d always dreamed of sharing her life with. He was volatile and unpredictable on the one hand and too darned neat on the other. Even if she could get those awful doughnuts from him, she’d probably never get him to give up the rest of his junk food.
Stop being petty, some little voice had nagged. None of that really matters. What mattered was the fact that she knew deep down inside that Hank didn’t really want to be a family man. He was kind and generous, the kind of man who’d even give a meal to a stray cat, but that didn’t mean he’d keep it around for the rest of his life. He didn’t want that sort of long-term commitment. He’d practically told her as much when he’d revealed the secrets of his childhood. Forget all her degrees, even an amateur psychologist could figure out the impact his mother’s behavior had had on his ability to relate to women. She understood all that. She really did. Better, apparently, than he did himself.
So, she had concluded at the end of the session, she was just going to treat him casually for the few remaining weeks they were likely to have together. They would part as friends. Good friends. Caring friends.
Not lovers.
“You know, Annie,” said the voice of her good, caring friend right behind her. A shiver shot down her spine and made mincemeat of her intentions.
She whipped around angrily. “Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?”
“Sneaking up on me.”
“I did not sneak up on you,” he said reasonably. “I walked out of the kitchen right behind you. I did nothing to hide my actions. You were just lost in thought. What were you thinking about, Annie?”
She recognized that innocently quizzical expression in his eyes. More important, she spotted the neatly set trap. He wasn’t catching her in it. No, sir. “Nothing in particular,” she said in a voice so cool it could have chilled champagne. “Was there something you wanted?”
Blue eyes lost their innocence at once. They captured her and pinned her right where she was with masculine intensity. Her heart skittered crazily.
“Hank,” she protested weakly.
“Hmm?”
“I asked if there was something you wanted.”
“Yes,” he murmured, leaning toward her, his gaze fastened on her mouth.
“I meant something else,” she said. Her voice sounded strangled.
“First things first.”
She took a hastily drawn and very deep breath, then darted past him calling at the top of her lungs, “Melissa! Time for bed.”
She heard him sigh heavily as she made her narrowest escape yet. And for just a minute, she felt a fleeting pang of regret. Then she reminded herself that what she was doing was in her own best interests and in Hank’s. It was getting harder and harder to remember that, though.
Hank retreated to the backyard hammock. It was getting to be absurd. He was acting like a third grader with a crush trying to steal kisses on a playground from a reluctant classmate. That’s what Ann had reduced him to with her stubborn denial that anything had changed between them on the trip to Miami. Whether she would have behaved exactly the same way had Jason not run away was a moot point. The fact remained that she was intentionally distancing herself from him. And he, despite his reputation as a ladies’ man, had no idea what to do about it. He’d thought the marriage proposal would convince her, but it had only made her more skittish than ever. It left him completely at a loss.
Ann was not one bit like the women he’d been attracted to in the past. A dozen roses, a bottle of expensive wine or a box of imported chocolates would be wasted on her. She had a yard filled with rose bushes, she wasn’t crazy about wine and he could just imagine what she’d have to say about the candy. He could always send her a gallon jug of apple juice or bring her a dozen oat-bran muffins, but where was the romance in that? As for taking her out to a candlelit dinner, she’d probably insist on hauling all six children along. They’d wind up taking a vote and eating pizza. It was hard to be seductive over tomato sauce. He couldn’t even impress her by taking her to the ballet or the symphony. The nearest performances were in Miami and she’d never even consider going with him and staying overnight, not after what had happened last time.
He knew, despite her denials, that she was every bit as attracted to him as he was to her. In fact, if he had to put a label on what they were both feeling, he would call it love. He was the first to admit he hadn’t had all that much experience with the emotion. On those rare occasions when he’d even allowed himself to believe in its existence, he’d imagined it to be more pleasurable than this, more carefree. Instead it seemed to be made up of giddy highs and astonishingly painful lows. And, in their case, instead of a simple, joyous union between two consenting adults, it seemed to involve a package deal that brought out protective instincts so deep he was shaken by them.
He wanted not just Ann’s happiness, but Jason’s and Tracy’s and Paul’s and David’s and Tommy’s and Melissa’s. When any one of them hurt, he hurt. He knew Ann felt the same way…about the six children. Her devotion to them was unquestioning and freely given. He was the only person she didn’t trust enough to allow herself to love without hesitation. She was still terrified that he would walk out on them, leaving the kids shaken and her heart in tatters.
Their relationship needed time. He had to prove to her that he wasn’t going anywhere, that his wandering days were long past. The only way to do that was to stick around. Unfortunately, his role in the Marathon project was nearing completion. In another month or so he’d be able to move back to Miami and make only occasional site visits. Unless he could dream up an excuse to stay, he was out of here by early April at the latest.
He was still trying to think of a solution to his dilemma when Tracy came out of the house.
“Hank?” she called hesitantly.
“Over here.”
She walked over and settled down cross-legged on the ground beside the hammock.
“What’s up?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.
“Do you think it would be okay if I borrowed the car tomorrow night?”
“I’m not the person you should be asking.”
“I can’t ask Ann.”
“Why not? She’s always let you use her car before. Are you planning to go someplace she wouldn’t approve of?”
&nbs
p; “Not exactly.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
“I know.”
“And you’re not going to say any more?”
He could see her shake her head. “Then I guess you’re going to have to forget about the car.”
“How about your truck? Could I use that?”
“Not without an explanation.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
Hoping she couldn’t see the grin in the nighttime shadows, he said, “Not fair, young lady.”
“But if you really trusted me, you’d take my word that this is really, really important and you wouldn’t ask any questions.”
“If you were twenty-two, I might agree, but you are barely eighteen.”
“So I can’t take the truck, either?”
Hank sat up in the hammock and turned until he could get a good look at Tracy’s face. “Why is this so important? Can’t you tell me that?”
“No. It would ruin everything.”
“Ruin what?”
She jumped to her feet. “Oh, never mind. I’ll think of something else.”
She started across the lawn, her shoulders slumped dejectedly. Hank debated for several seconds. He knew Tracy was a good driver and she was a responsible girl.
“Tracy.”
She stopped and waited.
“You can borrow the truck.”
She ran back and threw her arms around him. “Thanks, Hank. You won’t be sorry. I promise I’ll be really, really careful.”
He tilted her chin up. “You’d better be or Ann will kill both of us.”
Tracy picked the truck up at the construction site the next afternoon at three. Hank got a ride home with his foreman a couple of hours later. As he walked into the kitchen, he took one look around and came to a speechless halt.
The table was covered with a white damask cloth. Two candles had been placed in the center, along with a huge bowl of pink roses. The scent filled the room. Two places had been set with the good china, the silver and the crystal. For once, in fact, everything matched. Jason’s iPod was sitting in its dock with the detachable speakers on either side of the table. Hank scanned the playlist and grinned. Someone had very romantic taste and he had a suspicion who it was. Tracy. She had plotted this. That’s what all the secrecy had been about. And she had borrowed the truck to take the kids away for the evening, so he and Ann could be alone.
Tea and Destiny Page 17