by Peggy Webb
“I never remember you as boring, Tanner.”
“How do you remember me, Mandy?”
“Vital, aggressive, passionate—and totally committed to football.”
Tanner decided to let her last comment slide. It didn’t matter what she thought of him—then or now. Nothing mattered except putting her out of his life. Forever. Thirty-three was too damned old to be hurt all over again by Amanda Lassiter. Even if she did look like a saint and kiss like a sinner. Lord, that mouth. He’d give up his fortune for the right to taste her lips every day.
He realized too late that he should have stayed home with his dumplings. He was treading on dangerous ground, being in this house with her and all their memories. It was going to take every ounce of his willpower to get through the evening without falling in love with her again.
He decided his best defense would be a good offense. He hated what he had to do but believed he could never risk loving and losing her again. Forgive me, Amanda. It’s the only way.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Amanda.”
“Thank you.”
Her trusting smile didn’t make it any easier for him. “How is it that you never used your looks to lead another man to the altar after Claude?”
At the sudden intake of her breath and the flashing of anger in her eyes, he felt regret and guilt. Her smile was so much more pleasurable. He could bask in it for a hundred years and never tire of it. With effort he remembered her betrayal.
“That is the way you came between me and my best friend, isn’t it, Mandy?”
She stood slowly, using her body as a weapon. With languorous movements she laced her hands behind her neck and lifted her glorious hair upward. She arched her body so that her breasts were thrust forward.
“Yes.” Her voice was low, sultry, sexy. Only the high spots of color on her cheeks and her blazing eyes betrayed her anger.
She lowered her arms, letting her hair drift through her fingers. “Like this, Tanner.”
Her eyes never left his as she unbuttoned her blouse again. He could almost hear the silk against her skin as she caressed the material, dragging it inch by sensuous inch off her shoulders.
“I made him want me, Tanner.” Her hands were on the waistband of her slacks. “I used my body.”
The zipper was loud, like sandpaper grating on his frayed nerves. She hooked her thumbs into her waistband and lowered the slacks. The black lace she wore teased, provoked. His breathing became harsh. With maddening slowness her hips came into view, alluring, curving away from her tiny waist, just the way he remembered. She stepped out of the slacks, kicking them out of her way.
Her legs were gorgeous, their length and shape emphasized by the black lace teddy with French-cut sides. She put her hands on her hips. “Claude wanted my body, Tanner. Do you?”
He wanted it so badly, he thought he’d go mad.
“In my own time, Amanda.”
She wasn’t finished with her revenge. Leaning down, she stroked him, taking her time, letting him know the full electricity of her touch. Then she straightened, her expression cool and detached. Letting her left hand slide across her shoulder and down her arm, she lowered one strap of her black teddy. Her right breast, mere inches from his mouth, tantalized him.
“Feast your eyes, Tanner, for you’ll never be able to do more than look again. You had your time eleven years ago.”
With magnificent control she walked away from him. Turning in the doorway, she sank one last barb. “Just remember, I chose Claude.”
He could hear her progress through the house. Each door she slammed punctuated the restless silence. Her footsteps on the stairs clapped with the finality of doom. He sat at the table, wondering at the havoc he had wrought. Guilt slashed through him. In his zeal to protect himself he’d wounded Amanda. Revenge was bitter, and catharsis didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that he had driven away the only woman he had ever loved, the only woman he could ever love. Too late, the realization swept over him. Heaven help him, he was in love with Amanda once more. Probably had been from the day he saw her walk Into Jimmy’s. What had happened eleven years ago was over and done with. Finished. He could forgive the past, but he could never forgive himself if he lost Amanda again.
He’d been fooling himself. All his notions about bedding and forgetting her had been a sham. It was ironic to him that he could be so clearheaded in business and so blind about love. His heart had been shouting the truth to him ever since he’d come home, but he had refused to listen. He’d plunged stubbornly ahead, widening the chasm that was already between them. Winning her again would have been difficult at best; now he had made it almost impossible.
A lesser man might have given up, but Tanner Donovan was a stranger to defeat. With the wonderful knowledge of love coursing through him like new wine, he never considered any possibility except winning. He would have her, and any man who tried to come between them had better be prepared to do battle with the devil.
First he smiled, then the smile became a chuckle, and the chuckle became a full-bodied roar of sheer joy. Amanda would lead him a merry chase, but he’d have her. This time for keeps.
He went to the kitchen door and listened. There was no sound from Amanda. Knowing her, he decided that she was probably hatching a plan that would make tonight’s skirmish seen tame.
He smiled. “Brava, Amanda. You’re a hell of a lady.”
Clearing the table, he stored the leftovers in the refrigerator, then searched the cabinets until he’d found a pencil and notepaper. His handwriting was as bold as he was. “This time, Amanda, you’ll choose me.”
He propped the note on the table, picked up his picnic basket, and headed through the house. The next day he would begin the romance of the century. Tonight he needed to make plans.
o0o
Upstairs, Amanda heard the whistling. She stopped her restless pacing to listen. It didn’t surprise her that the man who’d received a crushing blow at her hands should be whistling. That was Tanner, through and through. Arrogant to a fault, self-confident to the core. In spite of her turmoil, she smiled. Any other man would be down there licking his wounds, and Tanner Donovan was whistling. It wasn’t a funeral dirge, either. The song was Get Me to the Church on Time. She knew the lyrics well, for she’d played the role of Eliza Doolittle her freshman year at the University of Southern Mississippi. Weekends, when she was visiting him in Alabama. Tanner had cued her. Quick study that he was, he’d learned all the songs also.
“What is that rake up to now?” She went to her bedroom door, half expecting him to come storming up the stairs. Instead she heard the front door slam.
“So, I’ve sent him home in defeat.” But she knew, even as she said the words, that it wasn’t true. Tanner was never defeated and rarely retreated. She was glad. In spite of the blood she’d drawn, she had no desire to hurt him. She was merely defending herself, covering her vulnerability with bravado.
She hurried to her bedroom window and drew back the curtain. Tanner was getting into his car. She supposed it was instinct that made him know he was being watched. He looked up. The smile he gave her had enough voltage to light every Christmas tree in Greenville. She almost forgot their encounter in the kitchen.
He stood in the moonlight, bold and impossibly handsome, a real hero, and not just according to the papers. He was a man who had succeeded at everything he’d attempted, a generous man who had used his wealth and fame to endow libraries and build orphanages and establish scholarships. And a dangerously charming man who thumbed his nose at failure and whistled in the face of defeat.
She pressed her forehead against the windowpane. “Oh, Lord, Tanner. I won’t fall in love with you again.”
It was almost as if he had heard her.
“Amanda!” he called.
Every fiber of common sense she possessed warned her to ignore him. Instead she opened the window.
“Go away, Tanner. It’s over between us.”
“It will never be ov
er between us. Remember that, Amanda.” He blew her a kiss, climbed into his flashy car, and drove off.
Amanda made herself turn away from the window and not watch his car disappear down the street. She would have an ordinary evening, she vowed. She’d address Christmas cards and call Aunt Emma, and maybe even bake a cake.
She went to the small cherry-wood desk in her bedroom and took out her cards. With great determination she sat down and picked up her pen. An enormous restlessness continued to stir in her. Maybe she should bake the cake first.
She started toward the kitchen, then remembered her paltry supply of staples. There was not enough flour to make a cupcake, let alone a whole cake, and she had less than a quart of milk and no sugar.
She prowled and paced through her house half a dozen times, then suddenly remembered that the drive-in theater ran all-night movies on Mondays. Even during the winter.
Amanda loved the movies, and she wasn’t discriminating—horror, fantasy, drama, classics, musicals—it didn’t matter what was showing. She enjoyed immersing herself in the make-believe world of the movies.
She got her coat from the hall closet and was headed out the door when the phone rang. She picked it up.
“Hello, darling. It’s your Aunt Barbara.”
Amanda sighed. The only thing more longwinded than Aunt Barbara was a freight train full of hot-air balloons.
“Hello, Aunt Barbara. How are you?”
Aunt Barbara began to tell her, in minute detail, exactly how she was. Amanda resigned herself to missing the first two shows at the drive-in.
o0o
Tanner whistled all the way home. He was still whistling when he bounded up the steps to his house.
“Tanner’s home,” he heard his dad say. “Nobody bangs the front door the way he does.”
He walked down the hall and stuck his head around the door. His parents were sitting in front of the fire. “Hi, Mom, Pop. Is that popcorn I smell?”
Matthew Donovan laughed. “What did I tell you, Anna? That boy can smell popcorn a mile away. I might as well make another popper full.”
Tanner held up his hand. “None for me. I have things to do. Have fun, you two. See you later.” He left, whistling.
With visions of Amanda dancing in his head, he went upstairs and made his calls. When he had finished, he gave a satisfied chuckle. He had set the wheels of romance turning, and now all he had to do was be patient—a completely new role for him.
He picked up a magazine and flipped through it. Nothing Newsweek had to say interested him. He stuck a tape into the player, but that was a mistake. It was a love song, and it reminded him of Amanda. He turned it off. In his state of mind he’d be likely to storm her house and take her by force. That wouldn’t do. Not at all. He had to court and woo and romance her again. Starting tomorrow.
Grabbing his jacket, he headed down the stairs. There was one place he could go when he needed to forget everything and make time pass quickly— the movies. Picking up the newspaper from the hall table, he searched for the entertainment section. To his delight the drive-in still had all-night movies on Mondays. Tonight’s fare was horror— The Creature of Darkness, Witches of Lust, Black Lagoon, Over My Dead Body, and Girl of My Nightmares. He laughed. That last one sounded like the story of his life.
o0o
The drive-in theater was practically deserted. He parked near the concession stand, bought himself the largest tub of buttered popcorn, three hot dogs, a cup of hot chocolate, and two Hershey bars with almonds, and settled in for a movie marathon.
The first movie was already half over, but that didn’t matter. Tanner had the whole thing figured out in five minutes. The good guys would save the town from the creature.
They finally did, just as Amanda’s car drove by. Tanner craned his neck to follow her progress. Apparently she didn’t see him, for she never looked in his direction. Her car cruised down the lane and eased into a slot two rows in front of his. There was nothing to mar his view of her except two speaker posts. He felt his heart quicken. Sentimental fool, he thought, chiding himself. He leaned forward to get a better view. Her hair glowed in the fluorescent lights. He’d never realized how sexy the back of a woman’s head could be. He gazed at her, imagining the feel of that hair against his cheek.
The squawking of his speaker box made him jump. To his chagrin he realized his hand was buried in the tub of buttered popcorn and had been since Amanda had driven by. Furthermore he had no idea how the movie had ended.
He wiped the butter off and considered joining her. Then he had second thoughts. Like him, she’d always used movies as a means of escape. She probably needed this evening of privacy as much as he did. Strange, he thought, how loving a person could make a difference. Yesterday he would have gotten boldly into her car, pulled her into his arms, and taken what he wanted. Tonight he couldn’t be that selfish. He would never again touch her without consideration of her feelings. The next time he kissed her, she’d know it was love.
Tanner leaned back to watch the second movie, Witches of Lust. Just his luck, one of the beauties on the screen looked too much like Amanda for his comfort. When the movie progressed from the witch part to the lust part, Tanner had to clench his fists to keep from leaping out of his car and getting into Amanda’s. The times he and Amanda had petted at the drive-in movies! His windows were steamed up simply from thinking about it.
He reached for a cold hot dog and tried to concentrate on the movie.
o0o
Amanda fidgeted in her car. The movie would have helped her forget if it weren’t so sensuous. Probably what she needed was a big box of buttered popcorn. It would be hard to eat, watch, and think at the same time.
She hung her speaker back on the pole and got out of her car. There was Tanner, as big as life, sitting two rows back in his red Corvette, leaning back and grinning at her. No, leering. That’s what he was doing. She felt her silly heart bump against her rib cage.
I’ll ignore him, she vowed.
She turned around and marched straight ahead to the concession stand, never looking in his direction. On the return trip, her buttered popcorn clutched in her hands, she tried to discipline herself to ignore him still. But she couldn’t. She felt compelled to glance in his direction. He lifted his hand in salute. She gave a slight nod, as if seeing him didn’t bother her at all, and then she climbed into her car. She was concentrating so hard on appearing unruffled that she tangled her foot in the speaker cord. The speaker squawked as it bit the dust. Using all the dignity she could muster, she rescued it, got into her car, and hung the devilish contraption on the side of her door.
She stared straight ahead, looking at the screen without seeing a thing and eating her popcorn without tasting a bite. Oh, Lord, the times she and Tanner had loved at the drive-in!
There had been other times, too, fun times with a gang of kids from the high school. Carefree times when Claude had stolen the show by telling them all some outrageous story that made the movie pale by comparison. Claude. He was between them like a wall. She wondered if Tanner was thinking of him, too.
She could feel Tanner back there. She could picture the ways his eyes gleamed with the flashy drive-in lights shining in them. It made her feel hollow to look straight ahead and pretend she didn’t notice him, to pretend she didn’t care.
The movie finally ended. Her neck was stiff. As the reels were being changed, she rubbed the back of neck, tilting her head this way and that to loosen the muscles. It seemed only natural that she should glance back at Tanner. Just a glance, she told herself.
He was looking at her. Even from two rows back she could tell. She saw him smile. She ached to touch him. The need was so strong that she felt foolish sitting in her car denying herself.
Following her impulse, she opened her door and started walking his way. She’d say hello, a casual greeting between two adults. All the way to his car she rationalized her motives.
She could feel the heat of his glance as he watched he
r walk. Breathing deeply, she tried to slow the trip-hammer rhythm of her heart. It was useless. By the time she leaned toward his window, she felt as if she’d run a twenty-six-mile marathon.
She rested her hand on the door. “Hello, Tanner.”
“Amanda!”
She wished his eyes wouldn’t gleam so. It made being casual very hard.
“Enjoying the movies?” Brilliant, she thought, chiding herself. Nor only did she sound breathless, she sounded simpleminded.
“Yes. Are you?”
His smile was so endearing, she almost didn’t notice that he seemed as ill at ease as she.
“Yes.” She knew there were other words in her vocabulary, but she couldn’t think of them. She figured she’d think of all sorts of witty replies as soon as she got back in her car.
Tanner put his hand over hers. “Won’t you join me? There’s room for two.”
“No.” The word hung in the air as they looked at each other. There’d always been a form of telepathy between them, messages they relayed with their eyes. She knew he wanted her. The naked desire was there, gleaming in his eyes. She wondered if she’d masked her own desire.
“You’ll get cold standing out there.”
His voice was like a caress, his tone gentle with concern. The sound of it made her feel warm and protected and cherished. With great clarity she saw how easy it would be to love him again. She knew she should go, but she wanted to feel his hand on hers a moment longer.
“No,” she said. “I won’t be standing here that long.”
“I see.”
He flashed that endearing smile again, and still she couldn’t go.
“Please thank Anna for the chicken and dumplings.”
“I will.”
Even though the night had turned cooler, she felt warm through and through. She thought it was remarkable that Tanner could do that to her simply by touching her hand—and after all these years.
She leaned closer. “I’ll call on her soon and thank her in person.”
“She’ll like that.”
His face was so close, she could see a tiny smear of butter on his cheek.