Isabel Sharpe

by Surprise Me. . . (lit)

  “I want to kiss you again, Tricia. Hell, I want to do a lot more than that. I always have. But right now I’m being a good boy and asking permission, because I want you to want this as much as I do. Will you let me?”

  She took in a deep breath, confusion and lust and need churning around, and then she thought of the picture, the woman she was in that picture, the woman she was with him. The woman she wanted to be. “Yes.”

  He kissed her immediately, afraid she’d change her mind. She responded as if he were a drug she was still addicted to, wrapped her arms around him. Jim.

  He kissed lower, on her jaw, down the side of her neck, gentle biting kisses that made shivers run over her skin.

  Yes. Her inner voice finally spoke. Yes. Jim was nothing like her other men. Being with him was nothing like being with them. She felt none of the desperation, that if they didn’t find her sexy and desirable over and over again, then she wasn’t. She felt no shame for her middle-aged body. No worries that he’d find her flaws anything but enticing.

  His mouth landed on hers again; she slid her hands around to his back, eased his shirt up and over his head. She loved the feel of his warm skin. She loved the scent and shape of his body.

  Her skirt slid up her thighs while she unbuckled his pants. And when he slid inside her, emotion that wasn’t gratitude swelled in her heart. She’d known him such a short time in her current incarnation. But she could swear that she was falling for him, had fallen for him. Maybe decades ago. Crazy. But nice. Maybe after she moved to Florida they could keep seeing each other. Slowly. Take it slowly, while she rekindled a relationship with her parents.

  Yes.

  Her inner voice spoke again. Yes.

  She leaned back on the table, arching for him, so they could both watch him sliding in and out, the beautiful, remarkable, arousing sight.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  She met his eyes then, without fear this time, and saw his growing feelings for her reflected in them. With him she felt beautiful. Yes.

  But slowly. As slow and steady as his rhythm now, building and building until something really wonderful burst between them.

  She caressed her breasts to make him crazy, then slid her hand down to touch herself, for him and for her. The climb in desire was immediate for them both; his rhythm accelerated, he breathed unevenly, harshly, pushing in and out, watching her fingers.

  Her body told her she was ready. She moaned and clutched his shoulder. He got the signal, grabbed her hips and went harder, longer, until the orgasm swelled and exploded through her.

  Yes. It was all going to be fine. She opened her eyes and saw him climax, his jaw clenching, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

  Yes. This man was perfect. She could ease gradually back into a relationship, discover slowly what it was like to belong to—

  “I love you, Tricia.” He spoke gently, softly against her temple. “I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you. I wanted to kill Tom for leaving you, and then I wanted to take his place. It nearly broke me when you pulled away, but I waited. And then you left town, and I did break. For years. When I found out you were back, it was as if I could finally release a breath I’d been holding for all that time. Being with you is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  “Jim…” She felt suspended between joy and fear. This didn’t sound like slowly, and she desperately needed slowly. “I am… I mean I don’t know what to say. Except that…Wow.”

  She cringed. What a completely inadequate response.

  “No worries.” He pulled out of her, eased her off the desk, held her close, rocked her gently. “I just needed to get all that out.”

  “You…took me by surprise.”

  “Nice surprise?”

  She couldn’t stand the vulnerability in his eyes. “Very nice. Very.”

  “So you think you could stand being in the same state with me down south?”

  “What do you mean?” She forced herself not to tense in his arms.

  “I had a move in mind before you came back. Beatrice mentioned it. I’m tired of winter. The cold and temperature changes give me migraines. I was thinking about living closer to Miami, more my scene down there, but Orlando is also a possibility.”

  “But…” She was stunned, thrilled, horrified.

  “What, you don’t want me near you?”

  She laughed, pushed down her fears, put her arms around his neck. “I think I could stand it, yes.”

  “In the same town?”

  “Sure.” She laughed again, still uneasy, but still okay. He loved her. She was crazy about him. He’d be a rock on which she could get to steadier footing. And she was pretty sure before long she’d be in love with him, too, if she wasn’t already, and could pay him back by being his rock in whatever way he needed.

  “In the same house?”

  “The same…” She blinked. Slowly. Slo-o-w-ly. “What are you saying? You want to live with me?”

  “No.” He dropped to one knee, took her hand and gazed up at her with adoration. “Tricia Hawthorne, I want to marry you.”

  17

  MELANIE THUDDED downstairs, feeling as if her body had been replaced by cement blocks. She’d gotten home at 1:00 a.m., after her panicked dash away from poor Edgar’s proposal, and hadn’t slept much, if at all.

  She needed coffee and a break from the panic and pain and excitement and guilt and God knew whatever else she was feeling. A whirling cesspool of emotions. No, wait, whirlpools whirled, cesspools didn’t.

  She needed a button she could press to turn off her thoughts while she took a break. Kind of like sleep mode for a computer.

  Down in the kitchen, the coffeemaker was already going; her mom sat slumped over the counter, looking exactly the way Melanie felt.

  “Morning.” Melanie grabbed a mug and topped it up, wishing she could just mainline the caffeine into her veins. Wishing they made a substance in coffee that would not only perk her up, but organize her thoughts, too.

  “Morning.” Tricia’s eyes were rimmed with red and swollen, her skin pale.

  Uh-oh. “Um, how did things go with Jim last night?” She perched on a stool opposite her mother.

  “Terrible. How did things go with Edgar last night?”

  Melanie gulped coffee and groaned. “Terrible.”

  “You want to go first or should I?”

  “You should, Mom.” Melanie slumped on her stool. “My situation is pretty intense.”

  “Actually…” Her mother rubbed the center of her forehead as if it ached. “Mine is pretty out there, too.”

  “Really?” Melanie frowned. “Should we flip for it?”

  Tricia managed a chuckle. “Tails I win, heads you lose?”

  “I’ll go first.” She lifted her hand, volunteering, then that seemed too much effort so she let it smack down onto the counter. “Everything started out great. We drove down to Ravinia. He’d made a really nice picnic, and we lay out on the blanket and listened to the music. It was soothing to listen and to just relax together. I was feeling pretty crazy about him. No, really crazy about him. And then we came back here and everything was so great, and he ruined it.”

  Her mother made a tortured sound. “That sounds exactly like my evening. I mean about it being so intense and so fantastic and then boom, he ruined it.”

  “What did Jim do?”

  “You won’t believe it.”

  “Try me.”

  “He asked me to marry him.” Tricia shook her head as if she couldn’t imagine anything more horrible.

  Melanie’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

  “I know, isn’t it unbelievable?” Her mom had flushed; she was looking extremely agitated. “I mean we barely know each other, or haven’t for years and years. No, decades. He can’t possible think marriage is a sensible or practical or in any way good idea. Plus now he’s threatening to move to Florida with me.”

  Melanie cringed. “He’s changing his entire life after seeing you twice?”

>   “I know. I know.” Tricia opened her tired eyes wider. “I couldn’t get away fast enough.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Melanie tsk-tsked, shaking her head. “No relationship can survive that kind of pressure.”

  “Exactly what I think.” She tapped the counter smartly for emphasis. “Exactly.”

  “That’s because you’re right.”

  “I know I am.” She didn’t look at all happy to be right, but stared dully into her cup.

  Melanie thought that sounded like a good idea, so she stared dully into hers, too, wishing she could think of the perfect comforting thing to say to her mother. A tiny part of her did think Jim was pretty passionate and romantic, asking Mom to marry him so soon. He must be so sure. She couldn’t imagine.

  “What did Edgar do to screw up your evening?”

  Melanie sighed and dropped her head, letting her hair tumble over her face. “You really will not believe this.”

  “Try me.”

  “He asked me to marry him.” She lifted her face to get Mom’s reaction.

  Tricia’s jaw took its turn to drop. “You are kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “My God, that’s statistically impossible. Same night? Same family?”

  “I know.” Melanie sighed glumly, but she couldn’t quell the excitement darting around inside her.

  “What did you do?”

  “Same as you. I freaked out and bolted.” She sighed. “Poor Edgar.”

  Her mother sighed. “Poor Jim.”

  A sharp knock at the back door made them both jump, then jump again when the door burst open. Alana stood, grinning, putting her house key back in her pocket. “Good morning! Beautiful morning!”

  Melanie and her mom exchanged glances. “Hi, Alana.”

  “How is everyone on this glorious summer day?” Alana looked from one pale exhausted face to the other. “Uh…did anyone get any sleep last night?”

  “Not much.”

  “Me neither.” She giggled and started fluttering her fingers. “Me neither. Notice anything?”

  Melanie stared. “Other than you looking disgustingly perky?”

  “And waggling around for some reason?”

  Alana put her hands up and patted the sides of her face. “Anything now? Anything?”

  “New makeup?” Tricia asked.

  “Cosmetic surgery?” Melanie was so not in the mood to play guessing games.

  “You are both hopeless. This!” Alana pointed energetically to the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand, which didn’t stand out immediately because of the rings on her other fingers. “Sawyer asked me to marry him last night after dinner at Sanford’s!”

  She stood expectantly, beaming broadly.

  Trish’s mug hit the table. “Oh. My—”

  “God,” Melanie finished for her.

  “What?” Irritation and hurt polluted Alana’s elation. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “We are.” Melanie got up, horribly ashamed of her reaction, trying to make her voice as hearty as possible. “I’m sorry. We’re really pleased. Sawyer is a fabulous guy. I know you guys will be so, so happy, sweetie. Congratulations.”

  “What is going on, Mel?” She turned to Tricia in the middle of Melanie’s attempt at hugging her. “Mom? You both look miserable.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” Melanie forced a smile and patted her sister’s back. “Isn’t the ring magnificent, Mom?”

  “It is.” Tricia nodded rapidly, as if she were trying to shake her head loose. “Sweetie, I’m thrilled. And so happy to be here when this happened to you—er, happened for you.”

  “Okay.” Alana actually let Mom hug her, then scowled and folded her arms across her chest. “I want to know immediately what is bothering both of you or I’m not going to enjoy the rest of this day at all and that will be entirely your fault and on your heads for the rest of your lives.”

  Silence. Melanie looked at her mom. Her mom looked at her.

  “Well…” Melanie started. “The timing is…interesting, that’s all?”

  “Why?”

  “Edgar asked Melanie to marry him last night,” Tricia said.

  “Melanie!” Alana’s eyes lit up again. “That is so—”

  “And Jim asked Mom to marry him last night.”

  “—amazing.” Alana’s joy turned cautious. “Wow. Um. Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow.” Melanie stared back into her coffee.

  “Amazing.” Tricia sighed.

  Alana’s scowl returned. “I take it there are no congratulations to hand around.”

  Tricia shook her head.

  “Um…no.” Melanie couldn’t look at her sister. Seeing this through her eyes made the whole thing look very different.

  “So, you turned them down, which was what you wanted.” Alana jammed her hands on her hips. “And now, as a result of this brilliant bit of decision making, the two of you are absolutely miserable.”

  “I guess we are,” Tricia said miserably.

  “Yup,” said Melanie, equally miserably.

  “Well, pardon me for being direct, but it seems to me if you’d made the right decisions, you’d both be relieved and happy.”

  “Oh.” Melanie rubbed her nose. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Alana used her best know-it-all voice.

  “Really.” Melanie started to bristle.

  “I’ll put it simply. In fact, I’ll quote you, Melanie, from a few weeks ago, when I was still stupidly resisting commitment to Sawyer.” She started flapping chicken arms. “Buk-buk-buk, buk-eek.”

  “Stop that.”

  Alana sighed and drew up a stool next to Melanie, clasped her hands so the brilliant diamond on her finger sparkled unavoidably.

  “Okay. Talk to me. Mom, why did you say no?”

  “I told him…that I wanted to be whole on my own and not be dependent on a man again for my happiness.”

  Melanie frowned. “But you haven’t dated for a year. And it sounds like Jim cares about your happiness more than you do.”

  Tricia shifted uncomfortably. “He’s more grounded than the other men I’ve been with, but that doesn’t mean much, frankly.”

  Melanie turned to Alana, not as sure as she was earlier that her mother was smart to escape. “He’s offering to move to Florida to be with her.”

  Alana threw up a hand in frustration. “Changing his whole life so he doesn’t have to lose you? Do you have any idea how remarkable that is? Have any of the guys you’ve been with before offered to change so much as a hairstyle for you?”

  “No.” Tricia bowed her head meekly, and it occurred to Melanie that the mom-daughter roles were once more reversed in their family. And maybe that was just how it was going to be sometimes, and maybe not something that had to be changed anymore.

  “I didn’t think so. And hey, Edgar can buy Jim’s studio building if he moves. It’s perfect for both of them.”

  Tricia and Melanie gazed at her mournfully.

  “Honestly.” Alana jabbed her finger at Melanie. “Your turn.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What did you say to poor Edgar?”

  “That he was moving way too fast, that we were barely getting to know each other and—”

  “You’ve known him two years. Adored him for two years. How many other men have you treasured that much even for two weeks? More importantly, how many of them have hung around even half that long?”

  “Um.” She fidgeted with her coffee. “None.”

  “And how many men do you think you’ll meet in this world who fit you and tolerate you and adore you the way he does?” Her voice softened. “That’s how Sawyer makes me feel. Like the most amazing woman ever produced on this earth. Like even my worst most horrible PMS days won’t scare him away because he knows I’m still in there somewhere. Do you know how rare that is?”

  Melanie hung her head. “Yes, Mommy. No, Mommy.”

  Silence. Tricia snorted.


  Alana snorted, too, sounding exactly the same as her mother. And then they were all laughing together, maybe a little maniacally, but it was still music to Melanie’s ears.

  More than that, while she was laughing with her mother and her sister, Alana’s words were percolating in her brain. He adored her. She adored him. He challenged her mind, challenged her to be a better person, made her sizzle with passion. She could tell him anything. He was her closest, most constant friend. He’d seen her at her worst, accepted every part of her and loved her still.

  What more did she want in her life and in her heart? Why was she letting fear get between herself and what she’d always dreamed of?

  The rest of the day she spent in a numb daze, caught in the battle between logic and fear. She should call Edgar. Maybe she just needed more time. Maybe…

  Maybe she was just being chicken.

  She and her mother took Alana and Sawyer out to celebrate their engagement. Seeing the two of them so happy…well, Melanie wasn’t the only one throwing wistful looks their way. Tricia was practically salivating.

  Finally, after dessert and coffee, Melanie got restless from lovey-dovey overload and got up to go to the bathroom. Tricia went with her.

  “I can’t stand this anymore.” Melanie stood at the sink washing her hands. “I want what they have. No, that’s not even true. I have what they have. I’ve just been too scared and silly to enjoy it.”

  Tricia met her eyes in the mirror, looking strained and anxious. “So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going over to Edgar’s after dinner.” She dried her hands and threw the towel away. “And I think you should go over to Jim’s.”

  “No. No, I couldn’t do that.” The denial sounded automatic. Her mother’s eyes were lit with excitement. “We’ve only been on two dates. You and Edgar have known each other for years.”

  “You’ve known him twenty-five years.”

  “I’ve changed.”

  “I have, too. But I think who we are at our core hasn’t changed. Both of us were looking for love, Mom. We were just going about it the wrong way. Now we’ve found it, we can’t turn and run. It would make a complete mockery of everything we’ve come to understand about ourselves and our feelings. If you don’t want to marry him yet, don’t. But don’t lose him, either. Go tonight. We can meet for breakfast and see how it went.”