He looked at her, just shaking his head. It wasn't a good thing, being in love with a woman who was this skilled at malarkey and charm. Everyone in his family knew Aaron was stubborn as a goat-and completely intractable once he'd made up his mind.
'"Your dad and I were talking." Kelly mentioned on the drive home, her voice very cheerful from the backseat. "He doesn't need help at home. And he's sick to death of everyone talking to him about rehab. He doesn't want strangers around."
"I sure as hell don't." Aaron agreed gruffly.
"But we were figuring that your mom is in different shoes. She's so used to your dad doing things that she might be a little thrown for a week or two."
"No more than that," Aaron qualified.
"I can't imagine she'd need more than that, either," Kelly said soothingly. "But the point, Will, is that we were thinking your mom might need some help for the next couple weeks. Not for your dad, but for her. But we're both a little worried that your mom can't be talked into the idea."
"You have no idea how stubborn my wife is," Aaron affirmed.
"But if you could have a private talk with your mom, Will." Kelly said gently. "You know, just suggest an extra guy servant around for a couple of weeks, someone to do lifting, the heavier things around the place. We don't want to offend her pride. We could pretend it was for your dad."
At the family house, Will only had a second to say a word privately with Kelly before getting his father out of the car. "You actually did it. Talked my dad into help in the house. Made him think it was for my mom. What do you want-diamonds? A medal? A paragraph in Ripley's?"
She grinned. "Hey, you saved me in Paris. Just trying to do a little rescuing of my own." But then she motioned to the Maguire house with a major change in expression. "Will?"
"What?"
"Look, I knew your family was well-off. But holy kamoly. This place is just way beyond me."
He frowned. She'd never acted impressed or scared off by the Maguire money before-well, maybe for two seconds when they'd first met in Paris-but not once they got to know each other.
Still, he tried to see the place from Kelly's eyes. The grounds looked their best in late May. Irish-green and satin-soft. South Bend was on the flat side, but his dad had the money-and the stubbornness-to build his own hills, enabling the house to be built on levels. Each floor looked out onto its own unique landscaping: a Japanese garden from the top level; a woody, sloped area leading to a pool and tennis courts from the back; and flowering trees and open gardens at the front entrance.
None of it was new to Will, but seeing Kelly inhale the grounds, he could see it wasn't too bad from the outside. Even if, to him, it was a cage.
His dad, by then, was out of the car, and his mom was peeling out the back door. Naturally Will had pulled up to the one entrance that didn't have stairs. Even so, when he maneuvered the wheelchair to his dad. Aaron immediately started a new rant, claiming that he could walk on his own, thank you very much, he wasn't an invalid, didn't need fussing over…
"Come on, Dad, for Pete's sake-"
But Kelly stepped in, as she had at the hospital. When she took the wheelchair, Aaron willingly sat in it.
His mom sent Will a look, as astounded by Aaron's changed behavior as he was. Both of them had discussed getting help, but Aaron had unequivocably and furiously denied needing it. Now, as he was wheeled in the door, he barked at Will to get extra hands in the house. Immediately. For at least two weeks.
His mother cornered him several minutes later. Aaron was settled in his favorite room, the library, where dark green fabric walls matched the green leather couches, and recessed lighting in the bookshelves provided soft, unobtrusive light. A hospital bed had been set up in here, partly because it was on the first floor with an attached bathroom, and partly because it was one of Aaron's favorite rooms.
Kelly was sitting with him when Will took off for the kitchen with his mom. Aaron wanted fresh strawberries and cream. Will was putting together a half sandwich and drink to go with it.
His mother said, "My God. She's a wonder."
"Yeah, she is."
"Your sisters will never believe it. That anyone could get your dad in a wheelchair. Or that he could be conned into getting some help." Barbara handed him the tray to take in. once she'd added a linen napkin and silverware. His mom had the softest eyes in the universe, but just occasionally, they could look quite shrewd. "So…it's clearly become more serious?"
"You want help with Dad, or you want to pry?"
"I'd rather pry."
But his mom gave him a quick hug and let it go-for then. An hour later, Aaron turned from cantankerous tyrant into sleeping baby, and Will drove Kelly home.
He caught her first smothered yawn-and the second big one she couldn't try to hide. "You're beat?"
"Yeah. Really long day at work."
"And then I added this stress package with my dad. On the other hand, this means I owe you. And it's always to your advantage for me to owe you."
"Darn right," Kelly agreed.
"I have an idea. On how I could pay you back."
"Is it expensive and decadent?"
"Hey. Would I waste your time on anything less?"
"Okay," she said. "I'm game."
"Tomorrow night…"
She made a sound. "Will, I've got my mom's birthday party coming up. Tomorrow I have to take her shopping for it."
"And that has to be tomorrow?"
"Pretty much, it really does. Because we're running out of evenings to do it-and she wants clothes- so we always go together to pick them out."
"Ah," he said, thinking he should have known that from his sisters. "So…Thursday night."
"Okay, what time?"
"What time can you get free?"
"Um… six, earliest."
"Then six it is."
BY WEDNESDAY NIGHT at eight-thirty, Kelly was comatose, sprawled outside a dressing room at Ann Taylor.
She'd already raided most of Grape Road with her mom, checking out the usual suspects-Talbots, Coldwater Creek, Chico's, the mall's specialty stores. Typically her mom claimed to be a size eight, would never be more than a six, and looked cuter than the devil no matter what she tried on.
The problem was getting Char to choose. She knew Kelly's budget, and was allergic to getting anything that wasn't on sale. They'd started after work-in a downpour-gulped down fast food for energy and then begun the siege.
Outside the dressing room, Kelly was using bags and purses for a pillow. Her eyes were closed in a mininap when her cell phone vibrated. She couldn't help but smile and feel her tummy warm when she heard Will's voice.
"How's the present shopping going?"
"We're having a blast. But thank God the stores close soon." She added. "Everything okay?" Ever since last night, she'd thought nonstop about his dad. that fabulous unique mansion and how even mighty rich people could be crabby when they didn't feel well. Her ego was still soaring about that whole business. She'd loved helping Will with his parents. She'd have loved both his dad and mom even if she hadn't loved Will.
"Everything's fine…"
Her eyes popped open and she sat up abruptly. "Is there a problem with tomorrow night?"
"Not at all. We're on. Actually. I'm calling for business."
She relaxed again. '"Sure you are."
"No. Really. You do searches on people, right?"
"You know I do. Primarily credit card identity theft."
"So what do you charge for doing these people searches?"
Char emerged from the dressing room in a little black dress. Kelly shook her head. First, because her mom already had a zillion little black dresses, and she almost never wore them. And second, because it was dowdy. "Do you mean, how much would it cost you? Or a normal person?" she asked Will.
"Hey, I'm normal." His tone sounded wounded.
She chuckled. "Well, the going rate is set by the hour. But it also includes expenses. Most of the time, there really aren't any. Mo
st of what I do is on the computer. It's just occasionally I have to travel. Anyway, I can't really give you a flat rate because it honestly depends on the job."
"Okay…" She heard background noise, then a door closing. "Whatever your rate is, I'll pay it. I need you to look into a guy who works at Maguire's. Name of John Henry. I can give you his address, birth date and social security number. I know you have other irons in the fire and might not be able to do this right away-"
She frowned. Her mom emerged from the dressing room again, this time in a cream-and-coral-print skirt with a coral top. If the outfit didn't have Char's name on it. it should have. Kelly gave her an exuberant thumbs-up. but she was still frowning into the phone. "Will, you know I'm not a private investigator, don't you? Because if this is about somebody's divorce or private life-"
"This is about someone working for my dad, where things just aren't adding up. I'd like to be sure his name is real. That he's who he says he is. That's all."
She slumped farther against the wall. "Are you inventing this mini-job just to keep your mitts on me?"
"Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. That is so unfair." He paused. "If I'd thought of that, actually, I'd probably do it. But as it happens, this is on the up-and-up."
She chuckled again, then stopped. Her mom was back in the dressing room. A gaggle of women had just left, leaving the general hallway calm for that moment. She said quietly, "I talked to her, Will. About my dad."
He understood how long it had taken her to finally get this done. "And?"
"And…I went into the conversation so, so mad. Mad that she'd lied to me. Mad that she'd invented a father who never existed and mad that I never had a chance to know my real one."
"And now?"
She didn't think her mother could hear behind the closed door, but she still moved away from the dressing rooms, keeping an eye peeled in case Char came out. "Now I realize the obvious. That my mom wouldn't have lied unless she felt she had to. At the time, she just didn't think she had a lot of choices. I think she lost her head and her heart in Paris. She believed he loved her. She thought they had something real. And all that crashed when she discovered he was married, but it was even more than that. She lost faith in herself, in her judgment." Kelly would have said more, but she saw the dressing room doorknob turn. "I have to go. Will. See you tomorrow night."
Her mother saw her shut the cell phone, but she worked her over about the outfit first. "I like it, I admit, but it costs too much. Particularly when you've got a tight budget right now."
They did the same song, different lyrics but the same refrain, every birthday. "Nonsense. The day I can't buy my mother a birthday present, I'm throwing in the towel." Kelly grabbed the top and skirt before her mother could escalate the discussion.
"I heard you on the phone-were you talking to Jason?"
"No, Mom."
"But have you? Talked with him?"
Kelly dug out her wallet before they reached the checkout line. "Yup. He showed up at work. A very uncomfortable conversation, which I wouldn't be telling you about at all, except that I'm almost sure he'll show up at the block party on Saturday. He won't raise trouble on your birthday that I can imagine. But if you can't find me at some point, it's probably because I'm hiding in your closet behind your shoe boxes."
"Hmm."
"And what does that hmm mean?" The checkout girl took her time, way too much time, folding the outfit with exquisite care, so there was no escaping the store too quickly.
"Are you still seeing that other man? The one from Paris?"
"His name is Will, Mom."
"Yes. Will Maguire. Of the Maguires." Her mother's voice didn't drip disapproval. Just opinion. Char might have come to believe that Will wasn't totally responsible for her breaking up with Jason, but people with the Maguire kind of money weren't remotely on their Christmas card list.
"You didn't like him?"
"The question isn't whether I like him. Or you do. The question is whether you're in love with him. And whether you're ready to risk any more heartache or trauma in your life right now."
"I don't know." Kelly admitted. "Nothing seems to come with a guarantee. I'm going with my heart, and maybe that's the most foolish thing I could be doing. But the only man who really threw a trauma into my life wasn't Will, Mom. It was my father."
Her mom suddenly looked small. "That was my fault."
Guilt pinched her heart. "The hell it was. You're a fabulous mother. And you've made an outstanding success of your life, totally on your own. That my dad didn't appreciate you is his loss. You didn't do a single thing wrong. All you did was fall in love."
Her mom laughed, and they hugged, both of them carrying packages but still managing to walk hip to hip to the car.
It was later, brushing her teeth before bed, that Kelly rethought that exchange. Her mom really hadn't done anything wrong except innocently fall in love. Maybe Kelly wouldn't have lied, but she understood why her mother felt she'd had to.
What troubled her now. though, was the resounding echo of their lives. She couldn't deny it. She'd fallen fiercely in love. In Paris. At a time when her whole sense of self had been shaken up.
So howwas she supposed to know if what she felt for Will was real?
If it could last?
Or if loving him would cause repercussions through her whole life, the way loving the wrong man had affected her mother's?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Will didn't usually shop at sex-toy stores before a date. In fact, he'd never shopped at a sex-toy store, ever, but after trying two drugstores and a department store for the item he needed-an item he'd have thought would be easy to find-he gave up and went to a source he knew would carry it.
Come to think of it, he'd never gone to this much trouble for any date, ever.
Not that he minded. Not for Kelly. But he was edgily aware that the stakes were damn high-and increasing by the day.
When he pulled into Kelly's driveway, he remembered how she'd described the confrontation with her mother. All this time, she'd been too upset to bring up the subject. All this time, she'd felt so wounded that her mother had lied to her about keeping her father's existence and identity a secret.
Thunder grumbled in the west. Clouds scudded overhead like tumbling balls, one falling over the other, each darker than the last. The first fat drop of rain splashed on his head, but he was prepared for that, too, and put up an umbrella before he climbed the steps to Kelly's door.
He rapped. Waited. He was still thinking about what she'd said about her mother, that her mom had lost her head in Paris, believing Rochard had loved her, then had become disillusioned.
Somewhere in her mother's story was the reason for Kelly's fears. Though he didn't totally understand it, he sensed the bottom line-that the only thing really keeping Kelly from taking off with him to Paris was this. She needed to feel sure of herself and what she felt for him. with him.
Sure that he wasn't a guy like Rochard. Sure that he wasn't feeding her a fantasy.
He was about to rap on the door again when it abruptly swung open.
His mouth framed a hello, but no sound emerged.
It was the yellow that locked up his vocal cords.
He'd never seen her in yellow before. And this wasn't yellow-yellow, more like a pale butter color, and he wasn't dead sure if it was a dress or underwear. The indefinably dangerous garment had tiny shoulder straps. After that it was simply silky fabric that fell from a bodice to above her knees.
He would have bet-even in Vegas-that she wasn't wearing a bra.
Or underpants.
He opened his mouth to greet her again, and again lost his voice. This time, though, his gaze narrowed on her face.
Smoky eyes met his. Of course, Kel had always had smoky eyes, but tonight the lashes looked long and sultry, the brows arched with a delicate curve. Her lips had this…this red on them. Not siren-red. Just…sex-red. Her hair was scooped up in a messy little heap on top of her head. And the expression o
n her face was pure…tease.
"I got a little dressed up," she murmured.
"I can see that."
"You said this was a payback dinner. That you owed me. So I figured I'd make you pay back big."
"I'm already paying," he assured her drily, making her laugh.
"Not that kind of paying, you nut. I meant…a seriously good dinner. Like lobster or something."
"Trust me," he said in the same dry voice, "you can have whatever you want for dinner. Lobster. Me. Steak. Ribs. Me-"
She rolled her eyes. "You are so easy…and speaking of sex objects, you look edible yourself."
He'd tried. His sisters were responsible for anything decent in his closet, since the girls had told him from birth that he had no taste and they did. So the dark blue shirt and black summer slacks were supposed to be the right thing.
As long as Kel liked them, that was all that mattered. "You're going to get a fancy dinner, I swear. But the place we're going is a surprise."
"What kind of surprise?" she asked suspiciously.
"The kind of surprise you can't guess."
As expected, she looked completely bewildered when he turned into a neighborhood near the Notre Dame campus, and even more confused when he pulled into the driveway of an unfamiliar house.
"We're eating with friends of yours?" she asked.
"Nope." The street was shaded by fat, old maples. Most of the homes were brick with landscaped yards, the tip of ND's golden dome visible in the distance. "An economics professor used to live here," he said as he opened the car door and motioned her toward the front.
"And now who lives here?" she asked.
He grinned. It wasn't a big house, just one of those English Tudor bungalows-redbrick with a high-peaked roof and dormer and a pretty oak door. When he unlocked the front door, she stepped inside.
The foyer was a semicircle of cherry paneling. The paneling was unique, but the wood floors definitely needed a refinish. A thin set of stairs led to a single giant bedroom and bath upstairs, not that Kelly could see those from here.
The immediate view showed a small living room with a bay window and white stone fireplace. Beyond was a dining room, looking over a shaded backyard, and beyond that was the kitchen. The kitchen had old appliances, but the room had been renovated fairly recently with cobalt-blue counters and white trim.
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