by Darla Jones
The neurologist discharged her later in the afternoon and when she finally returned home, Matt and Cassie both backed away when they saw her cheek. “Mommy’s all right. I fell off a stool at work.” She wasn’t about to tell them the real reason, and she and Jean had made up the story to explain her hospitalization.
****
The good side of being laid up for days was LynAnn could spend time with her children. The downside had been Stu’s behavior. He ignored her.
“Can I get you anything from the store?” Jean dropped in daily and offered her help, but she was distant as if her visit was an obligation, not an act of friendship and it saddened her deeply.
“No, thank you. I made Jeff a list and he’s stopping by this evening.”
Jean screwed up her pretty face. “You’re going to be hurt.” She wagged her finger. “The man’s a fast talker and a charmer.”
LynAnn shook her head and left out a long sigh. “So you and Stu keep telling me, but I think I’m able to judge him for myself.”
“Don’t say we didn’t warn you.” With a heavy frown and a shrug of her shoulders, Jean made a fast exit out the door.
When he arrived, besides the groceries, Jeff also brought pizza. “You look more beautiful every day.” He sat the pizza on the coffee table in the living room and then grasped her hand. “The swelling’s gone down on your cheek. How’s your head?”
“Much better and the sutures come out soon. I can go back to work on Monday.”
“Great.” He produced a broad grin showing a perfect row of white teeth. The kids sat cross-legged on the carpet while she and Jeff shared the sofa. When the pie was nearly demolished, Jeff leaned back, patted his flat stomach, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards as he surveyed the happy children. “Matt, have you ever been to Kennywood Amusement Park?”
The boy shook his blond head.
“If your mother feels up to it, I thought we could go there Sunday.”
“Yippee.” The children forgot their food, sprang to their feet, and bounced up and down with shrieks of delight.
“Hold it.” Jeff waved his hand to quiet them. “A condition goes along with my offer.” He turned to LynAnn and gave her a wry smile. “We’ll go only if your mother agrees to have dinner with me on Saturday evening. Dinner only, just the two of us.” His gaze held hers.
Unable to speak, she lowered her head. How underhanded could one man get? He was using an outing with the kids in exchange for a dinner date.
“She’ll do it,” Matt declared.
“Sure she will,” Cassie seconded the motion.
LynAnn burst out laughing. “Jeff, you’ve stooped to the lowest form of blackmail I could ever imagine. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“I’m not.” He smirked. “What’s your answer?”
She closed her eyes, and a long slow sigh escaped from her lungs, then her mouth curved upward. “Yes, but I want you to know it will be under duress.”
Chapter 7
“Will that be all?” The embarrassed, attractive young cashier shyly glanced at Jeff’s face and then hastily averted her gaze before she scanned the box through her machine.
“That’s all,” Jeff confidently replied as he swiped his credit card, collected his purchase, and then strolled through the revolving doors of the Wellco Pharmacy. When he returned to his BMW, he tossed a white paper bag containing a box of fifty condoms on the seat. He opened the box and tucked two in his wallet and stuck the rest in his glove compartment. Later, when he got home, he’d stash the rest in his bedroom. Maybe fifty condoms was a little overkill, but a man had to be prepared. He fired up his BMW. In twenty minutes he was picking up LynAnn for their date.
Oh, what was I thinking? He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He’d made a point of calling this a dinner only date and had to be on his best behavior. This was his first date with LynAnn, and the same tiny woman had tried to knee him in the groin, not once but twice. Perhaps, he should have bought a steel reinforced athletic supporter instead. “Oooh.” He groaned and then laughed out loud. Tramping down the accelerator, he zipped from the parking lot.
****
LynAnn was as excited as a senior going to a prom. She wore a pale blue cotton dress with a full skirt and navy blue trim around the neckline, the matching blue belt accentuated her tiny waist. Although it was a church outfit, it did look good on her. She never wore much makeup, but this evening it took a big dab of foundation to cover her bruised cheek.
Becky, a teen from church, volunteered to sit with her children.
When Jeff arrived, his gaze did a slow up and down scan of her body and came to rest on her face. “Ready for our date?” His big grin expressed his approval.
He looked so handsome her breath caught at the sight of him. He wore brown slacks with a camel colored sport coat and a russet tie. He reeked of confidence and self-assurance like a man on a mission, and she was his mission. She, on the other hand, felt a little plain. But then, she hadn’t accepted his dinner invitation to show up looking like a raving sex goddess. “Do I have a choice? I do believe I was blackmailed.” Her tone was teasing.
“I’m ready to collect my payoff.” He winked.
His hand rested on her lower back as he led her to his car. Oh, what was I thinking? She chastised herself. Jeff was a sexy, full blooded, testosterone laden male. The type of man whom other men wanted to emulate but couldn’t, and women waited patiently for him to flash his smile their way. Of course, he wanted to do more than hold hands. As soon as she refused to jump into his bed, he would dump her for a more willing, sexually savvy woman.
Once they were on their way to the restaurant, he glanced her way. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?” He reached over to grasp her hand and she quickly pulled away from his touch. “Ah, a little shy this evening, are we?” He teased.
Ill at ease, she averted her gaze to her side window.
“Relax, sweetheart. We’re only going to have dinner and if you insist I’ll whisk you right home as soon as you put the last bite of food in your mouth.”
She giggled at her own nervousness.
“It’s good to hear your laugh.” He braked for a red light, and his gaze swept over her face. “Is this the first time you’ve been on a date since your husband died?”
“Yes,” she softly admitted.
“Well, then, I am honored.” His gaze pierced deep into her eyes.
Toot. Honk. The light had turned green, and the driver behind them beeped his horn. Jeff stepped on the gas so fast both their heads flew back on their headrests and they laughed.
They rode silently for a time, and she was awed by his roomy, luxurious automobile. The dashboard’s dials and gadgets looked as if they belonged in a supersonic jet. LynAnn ran her hand over the soft upholstery on her bucket seat. “This feels like real leather.”
He nodded.
“This is a beautiful car. What is it? B-M-W.” She read the letters written on the dashboard aloud before he had a chance to reply. “Buick…uhh…Buick Manufactured Wheels.” She concluded from the lettering, proud she had figured it out.
“You’re right, it’s a Buick.”
“I like it.”
“I’m glad,” he replied, taking his eyes off the road long enough to give her his biggest grin.
She was surprised when he drove out of Pottersville and got on I-80. He made an exit at the first ramp and they were in Seaton, a small, but historic town complete with an old red brick town hall right in the center of the main square. When they reached the restaurant/lounge, Jeff helped her out of the car. Once inside Lenardo’s House, an old refurbished building, they were shown to a table covered with a pristine white linen cloth. He pulled out her chair for her. The aroma of grilling meats permeated the air. She noticed most of the tables were filled with well-dressed patrons. The dining area was large with an adjoining lounge featuring a curved bar at one end. Wide archways gave her a glimpse of other rooms, perhaps banquet facil
ities.
The waiter, clad in a black suit and tie, appeared with a wine list, which they both declined. “Something from the bar perhaps,” he suggested.
“Coors on tap, please,” Jeff ordered and looked at LynAnn.
The photo of a frosty margarita on the back of a menu caught her eye. “Margarita, please.” She rarely drank alcohol, but she needed a dose of courage right now. She was certain this would be their first and last date because sometime this evening she planned to remind him of their past meeting four years ago.
She browsed the menu. The prices of the entrees would have fed her and her children for a week. They both ordered the seafood platter.
Their drinks arrived and her margarita was in a huge cocktail glass. “I didn’t expect it to be so big,” She gasped at its size and then took a sip. “It’s good.” She sipped again and smiled.
Jeff smiled back and took a swig of his beer. A little of the beer suds stuck to his upper lip, and she couldn’t help staring when the tip of his tongue flicked out and wiped it off. His gesture felt sensual, and she had to look away. She didn’t want him to catch her staring at his lips, but they were full and well-defined, and for an instant she wondered how they would feel on hers.
Eventually he talked about his job as district attorney. “Delta County has about 130,000 people and most are law-abiding citizens. I have to worry about the six percent who aren’t.”
“Did you play district attorney when you were a boy?”
“No.” He chuckled. “I wanted to be a fireman. I used to wear my red plastic fireman’s hat to bed.”
LynAnn tittered at a silly image of a tiny toy fireman’s hat perched on the very top of the distinguished grown man’s head as he addressed a jury.
He became serious. “I protect the citizens who elected me. I treat everyone fairly. Do you remember the Collins trial?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I followed it in the newspaper.” The trial had stirred up much controversy at the time.
“The man was caught red-handed stealing and his attorney nearly got him off because of his poor upbringing.”
Pride filled his voice as he recalled some of the cases he prosecuted.
This was her chance. Now was the time to bring up their past meeting. He kept talking and she couldn’t look at him, instead she swirled her drink, took a sip, and swirled it again.
“One criminal I prosecuted…” He noticed her disinterest and halted mid-sentence forcing her to look at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you. Let’s talk about you.” He switched the conversation back to her.
“Jeff, I…You don’t…” She couldn’t say the words. She didn’t want to dredge up her past, and besides he was so proud of his work she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “There’s not much to tell,” she lied. She couldn’t do it. Why did he turn out to be such a nice man? True, he was praised for his excellent work and was a tenacious prosecutor. Then how’d he managed to fail her so badly, she didn’t know.
Thankfully, as if on cue, their meals arrived and they ate the wonderful food in silence.
After a time, LynAnn reached for her drink, took a sip, and gave the handsome man a shy grin.
“What’s your smile about?”
“If my adopted father could see me now he would spout his Burn in Hell All Who Wallow in Sin sermon.”
“What?” His jaw dropped.
She chuckled. “My father was a Baptist minister and very strict. I wasn’t permitted to wear makeup or trendy clothes. Alcohol was forbidden, and dancing was a sin. I never attended my senior prom. I wasn’t allowed to date until I was seventeen and then my father scared most of the boys away. He ruled with an iron fist, and my mother and I obeyed.”
Dumbfounded, mouth agape, his wide blue eyes stared in disbelief. “Oh…Good…Lord.” He spoke the words slowly almost as if he were praying.
She gasped. “You know his sermon. You must have heard it.” Her voice raised an octave in surprise.
He threw back his head and couldn’t stop laughing.
Later, over dessert, he brought up her assault. “I’ve been in daily contact with Captain Anderson at the police department, and they have no leads about the man who attacked you. They’ve concluded he was an addict and wanted drugs.” His lips drew into a thin line. “If they do catch him, I will personally see he’s locked up for a long time. In fact, I may throw a few punches at him while I’m at it.”
At first, her body stiffened at his words, and then she burst out laughing. “Oh my, such talk from the district attorney. I suppose you’ll want me to bail you out of jail.”
Now he howled with laughter. “Please don’t tell anyone what I said, but I would like to lay a few good punches on him.”
When their meal was over, a small band began setting up in the adjoining lounge area. Soft music drifted in the air and couples took to the dance floor. Jeff rose from his chair and held out his hand. “Let’s dance.”
“Oh, I don’t think I can.” LynAnn hesitated. “I haven’t danced in years.”
“All the more reason to try.” Not about to take no for an answer, he reached for her hand and led her to the dance floor.
Once they were dancing, he held her a little away from his body. She could smell his masculine aroma and feel his hand splayed on her back. At first his touch felt alien, but before the song ended she found herself becoming accustomed to his sensuous aura. When another slow ballad began, he drew her close and nestled his cheek in her hair. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of him. She’d forgotten how good it was to be in a man’s strong arms, and she basked in his masculine spicy scent.
Just for an instant, time tricked her and spun backwards…back to her dead husband. He loved to dance and during the slow numbers he always molded her to his body and sometimes hummed in her ear. So many years had passed and yet his memory still managed to send an ache through her heart.
After more dancing, the band took a break, and they returned to their table. “Want another margarita?”
She chuckled. “No, thanks, but a Diet Coke would be good.”
He summoned the waiter and ordered their drinks. Then, glancing across the room, he waved at the guitar player from the band, heading outside to the patio for his break. “I know him. Mind if I say ‘hello?’ I’ll only be a minute.”
She flicked her wrist. “Sure. Go ahead.”
Jeff trailed after the musician and almost as soon as he disappeared, the waiter placed a margarita in front of her.
“I didn’t order this,” she objected.
The server nodded politely. “It’s from someone at the bar and they want me to give you this, too.” He placed a neatly folded paper napkin beside her drink.
“Who was it?” she asked turning to scan the patrons at the bar.
The waiter turned toward the bar and then back to her, frowning and shaking his head at the same time. “Huh, that’s odd. They’re gone now.”
After the waiter left, she unfolded the paper napkin. No doubt, some man was hitting on her and had written his phone number and something cute on the napkin. But a cold chill racked her body when she read the sprawled note saying: The man you are with will only bring you trouble. Her heart thudded, and its rhythm vibrated in her head. She scanned the handful of people at the bar again. They were mostly couples and no one looked her way. In disbelief, she read the note once more, but when she saw Jeff strolling back to their table, she quickly wadded it up and stashed it in her purse.
He was surprised when he saw the margarita sitting in front of her. “Did you decide you wanted another one?”
“Noo.” She tried to conceal her trembling hands and clutched her purse. How many people are going to warn me to stay away from him?
He pulled his chair alongside hers and reached for her hand. “Most women are pleased when someone sends them a drink. It’s a compliment.” He chuckled and slowly shook his head. “I should have known better than to leave a beautiful woman all alone. I’ve learned my lesso
n, and it won’t happen again. I promise.” His arm encircling her shoulders, he squeezed her to his side as his fingers gently tilted her face to his. In the next second, his lips found hers.
Although caught completely off guard, she allowed herself to relish his tender assault for a long second. Then her body went rigid, and she pulled away putting some distance between them. “I’d like to go home now, please.”
“Aah,” he groaned, disappointed by her request. “The band will be back soon and we can dance more. You feel so good in my arms. Like I’m driving a little Miata. The steering wheel fits perfectly in my grasp and I barely have to touch the accelerator.”
“What are you talking about? Me or an automobile?” Sometimes the man spoke some sort of high tech mechanical jibberish.
She glanced at the frosty salt rimmed cocktail glass in front of her and then reached for her purse. “Please, Jeff.”
The grown man hung his head and tugged his lips downward reminding her of her son when she had to send him to his room “Okay. We’ll go.” He stood and tossed some bills on the table, and they headed to his car.
Once on the highway again returning to Pottersville, a thick silence filled his Buick. LynAnn couldn’t stop thinking about the note.
They were only on the road for ten minutes when her cell rang. “I hope my sitter isn’t having problems.” She dug her phone from her purse. “Sandy, how are you?” she answered glad to hear from her old friend from Philipsburg, her hometown. “How’s Aunt Sara?”
Also a nurse, and not one to sugarcoat her words, Sandy got right to the point. “Sorry, LynAnn, but your aunt had another stroke, and it’s a bad one this time. It happened sometime this afternoon. She’s not doing well. Her condition is serious. When Brenda called from the nursing home I went right up there, but Sara only opened her eyes a few times. I don’t think she’ll make it through this one.”