Angel wrapped herself in a big white towel and moved all the suitcases from the bed to the floor, then collapsed on top of the blue-and-white floral bedspread, and let out a contented sigh. She propped up on both pillows and grabbed the phone to call Patty, but she changed her mind and put the phone back. This was supposed to be a vacation, and she'd vowed on the plane that she would not call Conrad Oil once in the five days she planned to stay in Florida—instead of the two weeks her friends had expected her to stay.
She unlatched one suitcase and found a bright red bathing suit, a white terry cover-up, and a pair of white leather thong sandals. After all, she hadn't come to the beach to hole up in her room. She had to get out on the sand and at least catch sight of one gorgeous hunk to tell the girls about next week. It didn't matter if he never said a word to her—she could make up some kind of wild tale to entertain them over a glass of wine.
She had the doorknob in her hand and was about to turn it when a loud knock on the other side startled her. She jerked the door open to find a tanned young man with a smile that would make Patty swoon, and he was carrying a gorgeous flower arrangement.
"Delivery for Miss Conrad," he said and handed her a crystal vase with a dozen red roses interspersed with white baby's breath. "Have a nice day now and don't forget your sunblock. Fair as you are, you'd burn in an hour on a day like this," he cautioned, and left before she could say anything.
"Those girls!" Angel sighed, as she sat the flowers on the glass-topped table for two in the kitchenette. Then she opened the envelope holding the card attached to the red satin bow around the vase.
Yesterday, today, forever, She didn't recognize the handwriting and the card wasn't signed.
"Well," she said aloud. "Allie always was one for mystery. Probably trying to make me think there's someone here who's after my heart. Maybe he'll be a dark-eyed, gorgeous model who can wiggle out of a tight Speedo so fast he'll make my head swim." She picked up her tube of sunblock, threw it in her beach bag, stopped long enough to inhale the fragrance of the roses and went to the beach.
Angel dropped her bag in the warm sand and took out an oversize towel. This end of the beach was quiet and the sand was as fine and white as granulated sugar. She sat down on the towel and scooped up a handful, letting it slip through her fingers. Then she remembered the delivery boy's warning and dusted the fine grains from her hands, took off her terry cover-up and began to smooth sunblock cream over her legs.
She rolled over on her stomach and took one of the romance novels out of her bag. A picture of a handsome cowboy in tight jeans and a gaudy western shirt decorated the front. A woman with improbably deep cleavage was draped over his arm, and the smoldering look in his eyes promised the reader a love story beyond all expectations. Patty probably didn't even know the author and had picked it out for the cover art. But whether the author could write or not didn't matter one bit to Angela. She intended to read the book from prologue to epilogue, and enjoy every overheated page just to keep the thoughts of Clancy at bay.
Clancy had heard the shower running in the room next to his, and he heard Angel flop on the bed, and sigh happily. He knew when the delivery man brought the roses to her door, and he watched her from an opening in the drapes when she went to the beach. He thought about waiting until tomorrow to let her know he was here in Florida, but then he remembered that he only had two weeks and every minute was important.
He changed into swimming trunks and put on a tank top and a pair of sandals. He threw a towel over his shoulder, took a deep breath and started toward the beach, not knowing whether she would kill him or kiss him . . . as Bonnie had said. But whatever Angel's reaction might be, it would beat this emptiness in his life these past weeks. He walked toward her.
Angel was wearing a red two-piece bathing suit, not as skimpy as the one she had in high school, but then, there was a bit more of her to cover. She wore a floppy straw hat and huge sunglasses, and was propped up on her elbows reading a paperback book. A young man strolled past her and Clancy knew if she had looked up, the guy would've started a conversation, but she seemed to be oblivious to everything except the book.
Clancy flipped his towel out right beside her and sat on it, looking out over the ocean. By the time Angel realized someone was that close to her, she had to smile. Maybe it would be the knight in shining armor the girls had teased her about. She could get her story ready for them right now and then relax for the rest of her vacation. A familiar scent drifted by . . . she'd smelled that cologne before. A long time ago . . . on the banks of Pennington Creek.
She jerked off her sunglasses and looked right into Clancy's eyes. And all the pieces of the puzzle tumbled into place. Damn it all to hell! Her friends weren't supposed to send her on a vacation and then tell Clancy where she was. She couldn't decide whether to fire them and watch them starve to death, or simply shoot them and get it over with quick. But one thing was for sure when she got back, everyone of them would be facing her wrath and it wasn't going to be a pretty sight. They'd never seen her really boiling angry, but they would soon. All five of them were going to see her breathe fire before Monday morning was over.
"Small world, isn't it?" Clancy's smile was bright.
"Which one of them called you and told you I was here?" she demanded furiously.
"Don't know what you're talking about." He didn't blink and there was a twinkle in his eyes that made her heart flutter.
"Yes, you do." Angel stood up, gathering her things and stuffing them into the beach bag. "I'm checking out of the motel right now and driving my rental car back to the airport. I'll be home by morning and my so-called friends will be facing the firing squad."
"Sit down, Angel." He patted the towel before she could yank it up. "You can't run from me forever. Stay and get to know me. I'm a man now, not the scared young boy who didn't know his own heart." He studied her for a moment. "But if you really want to stay angry, you can just tell me go to go to hell, and get on with your life," he said affably. "By the way, did you like the roses?"
"You sent them? Hell's bells!" she swore. "Did all of you plan this together?"
"No. I just happened to schedule my visit here around your vacation time," he said. "What a coincidence, huh? Hey, I understand you know Red and Anna. Bet you didn't know there they were my dad's friends." Clancy tried rather awkwardly to change the subject so he wouldn't have to tell her that Bonnie had called him.
"You mean Red is in on this, too?" Angel sat back down. "Did he tell you where I was?"
"No," Clancy said, truthfully enough. "But you and I are both here for two weeks. I don't mind."
"Well, I do," Angel said crossly. "Anyway, you're here for two weeks, but I'm on my way out of this place as soon as I can pack. Won't be too hard, because I haven't really unpacked."
He just looked at her sadly and Angel almost melted.
"Clancy, I came here to clear my mind, not to make more mistakes."
"Afraid of me, are you?" he challenged.
Hardly, she almost said aloud. A situation like this didn't faze her any. Angel had faced a pregnancy without a husband. She'd worked like a dog to get an education. She'd buried the last living relative she had, and helped her friends through so many hard times she couldn't count them on her fingers and toes.
Then she'd carved a successful oil business out of a few acres of land which everyone had told her was only good for corn and sweet potatoes, and she wasn't afraid to meet the devil in a dark alley at midnight. So if Clancy Morgan thought for one minute she was going to turn and run, he had another think coming.
"No, I'm not afraid of you. Not one bit. But I bet when this vacation is over, it'll be you who'll be in a hurry to get back, Clancy."
He merely shrugged, which infuriated her even more.
"Those roses were beautiful, but you and I know they'll die before our two weeks are over . . . just the way our love died," she tormented him.
"Then I'll buy you another dozen." Clancy smiled, feeling as
if he'd won the first skirmish of the war, without knowing exactly why he felt that way. He thought he detected a slight softening in her tone, despite her angry words.
Angel snorted, found her book in the bag, and threw the tube of sunblock lotion at him. "You might be more tan than me, but you'll still burn in sun like this. Help yourself. I'm not going to play nurse for you if you blister." She flipped the romance novel open to the page she had been reading and ignored him.
"Sorry to hear that. But I can't reach my back, and it looks to me like you didn't get enough on your shoulders. Do you think we could call a truce long enough to help each other out?" he asked, enjoying the view of the bare nape of her neck and down her back over her well-rounded bottom. He didn't forget to check out her shapely legs, crossed primly at her ankles.
"Why not?" she said indifferently. If she concentrated hard on how much she hated him, she would definitely be over Clancy Morgan once and for all by the end of this vacation. Granny used to say the way to not crave chocolate bars was to eat them until you got so sick you upchucked. Well, Angel'd spend so much time with Clancy that in two weeks her heart would know what her mind already understood: that Clancy was still the same selfish good-for-nothing who'd left her crying on the sandbar. And then it would finally be over!
"Yes, ma'am," he said with relish, loving the thought of actually getting to touch his Angel again. He squeezed the lotion into his big hands and gently rubbed her shoulders and down her back to where her bathing suit top fastened.
It took every bit of her willpower to keep from gasping when his hands made contact with her bare skin. No man had ever made her feel what Clancy had long ago, and no one else's touch could make her heart flutter like this. Not that she had any immediate plans to tell him so. Or future plans.
"Want me to undo this snap and get your whole back, or just reach under it?" he asked, trying hard to keep his voice emotionless so she wouldn't know how just the feel of her skin affected him.
"Undo it," she said pertly. Let him cope with his hormones however he could . . . she was going to make it as hard for him as possible.
"All done." He finished slathering lotion over every inch of her bare skin and fastened her top back. "Would you return the favor, Angel? I'd appreciate it."
Angel rolled over and took the tube of sunblock from his hands, determined he wouldn't know that her hands were shaking at the mere thought of rubbing lotion onto his muscled back and legs. She walked on her knees until she was behind him, glad he couldn't see her eyes behind the sunglasses and couldn't hear the thumping of her heart over the sound of the ocean.
"Be still," she said when he turned his head to the left so he could look over his shoulder. "What do you intend to do for two whole weeks?" she asked, and immediately regretted saying it.
"Whatever you want to do," Clancy said honestly, looking out over the ocean and enjoying the sensation of her hands caressing his back. "Maybe I'll just sit right here and let you rub lotion on me for two weeks. It's a pretty wonderful feeling."
Angel slapped his shoulder. "Oh, hush. It'll take longer than two weeks to get to know me. I'm not that naive teenager who thought you hung the moon and stars. I don't have a trusting heart anymore."
"Angel, don't talk like that. You knew your mind when I didn't know mine. Hey, I think you missed a spot over there on my right shoulder. If I get a sunburn, you'll have to put up with my whining," he teased.
"Heaven forbid." She rubbed more sunblock on his shoulder. "Now lie down and take a nap or I can give you a big, thick romance novel to read. Sorry I don't have anything else to offer. My dear friends didn't think to send along a thriller."
"A nap sounds wonderful. Don't leave without waking me, though. I thought we'd have dinner at a seafood restaurant I saw on my way down the strip, then we'd play a round of miniature golf, and after that we'd get a bottle of wine and come back here to watch the tide come in." He outlined his plans for the rest of the day as he lay down, crossing his arms above his head and resting his face on the backs of his hands.
"Did Patty plan all that, too?" she asked.
"Nope," he mumbled and shut his eyes. But he didn't go to sleep, any more than she read the book that was open in front of her face.
Angel stared at the words but didn't see them. She alternated between waves of annoyance and sheer fear. Annoyance at her friends for pulling such a stunt, and fear of her own feelings. How had he lured her into planning activities for the next two weeks? Her mind told her it wasn't any big deal. There wasn't a reason in the world she couldn't keep company with Clancy that long, then walk away from him without a glance over her shoulder.
But her heart told her she'd already lost when she played this game the first time. Even though she was older and knew the rules a whole lot better, she still had a soft spot for Clancy Morgan. And her body seemed to be telling her she'd better be extra careful, because if it could override her heart and mind, it intended to spend a good part of the vacation snuggled up to Clancy in that king-size bed.
"Oh, no, you are not," Angel whispered out loud.
"Are not what?" Clancy whispered back without opening his eyes.
"I'm talking to my book," she lied.
"Oh." He smiled, turned his head and opened his eyes to look at her. "By the way, do the rules say I can't look at you?"
"I didn't make the rules. You and my so-called best friends did," Angel said tartly, turning the page she hadn't read. "I might warn you. I'm damned good at miniature golf, and I shoot a mean game of pool, too. Used to pick up a few dollars on bets in the student union during college days. No one would believe a woman could out-shoot those big, tough cowboys."
"Then we'll have to play pool before we leave here," he promised. "Have I told you in the last five minutes how gorgeous your eyes are when you're angry? They have flecks in them that glitter and glow."
"You can't see my eyes. I have on sunglasses," she pointed out. "Try another line."
"I can see your eyes anytime I want. I can see your body next to mine right now with my eyes closed. Both of them are forever branded into my thoughts. But I've got to admit, it's a lot better when you are really here beside me, Angela. Being with you is the most peaceful thing I've done in a long time." Clancy kissed her gently on the cheek, then laid his head back down and shut his eyes.
Eight
Angel grabbed the hem of the full skirt of a red-and-white checked strapless sun dress and drew a portion of it through a white plastic loop, showing off her left leg to the top of her thigh. She pulled her curls behind her ears with two long barrettes, slapped on a little bit of makeup and buckled a pair of white, leather sandals on her feet. She was dabbing perfume behind her knees and ears when she heard his knock on the door.
"You look lovely." His eyes said as much as his voice when he saw her.
"Thank you, sir. You don't look so bad yourself." Clancy's casual khaki slacks had a perfect crease ending at the tops of soft leather loafers, and the top two buttons of his polo shirt were left undone, showing a thicker tuft of soft dark-brown hair than he'd had ten years ago . . . and he smelled like heaven. He opened the door to a silver Cadillac for her and whistled as he walked around the car to his door.
He settled into the car seat, and slipped a tape of the Judds into the deck, singing the songs her band had performed that night at the alumni reunion. "They aren't as good as you are," he said, as he backed the car out and started driving east, toward the restaurant where he had made reservations.
"Oh, sure." She smiled. "The Judds are in Nashville making millions and I've sold my bus and broken up my band. You've got rocks for brains if you think I'm that good."
"So, I've got rocks for brains. You're making millions, too, and they still can't sing as well as you. You always did sing well. Remember when you used to harmonize with whoever was on the radio in my Camaro? I remembered that when I looked up there on that stage you were standing there like an angel appearing out of a cloud of smoke. Lord, I thought I'd
die when I realized it was you. When you hopped up there on the table in front of me, my mouth felt like it was plumb full of cotton. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what to say. Why didn't you give us all some advance notice of what you've accomplished?" he asked.
"Why? I didn't need to advertise my success to all those people who never thought I'd amount to anything. Come on, Clancy. I was poor, but I wasn't dumb . . . except when it came to you," she told him. "Now where's this restaurant? I'm hungry. I always get hungry when I'm around water very long. You know, I think this sunblock lotion really does work. I'm not burned at all," she rambled on, and then felt annoyed with herself for doing it.
"Well, good." Clancy pulled the car up to a restaurant with an awning in front. He handed a valet the keys and opened the door for Angela. "I figured you'd marry Billy Joe. You should have seen my face when I read that he was gay. Goes to show how much I knew, huh?"
The waiter showed them to a table for two on a wharf overlooking the ocean. A salty breeze blew the linen tablecloths and caused the candles, set down in deep crystal sconces, to flicker. He ordered the steak and shrimp special and she ordered a crab salad, with a side order of fried clams and shrimp with red sauce.
"Nice place," she commented when the waiter brought two tall glasses of iced tea and left with their orders.
"Best I could do on short notice. I'll study the brochures and see if I can come up with something a little more elaborate tomorrow night. There's a dinner cruise aboard a ship that goes out to Shell Island, but it was fully booked tonight. But we can go another time. Takes most of the afternoon, then we'll eat dinner and spend an hour on an island before we return. Sounded kind of romantic. Then there's another restaurant the clerk said was good that I thought we'd try tomorrow night. Unless, of course, you want to decide . . ."
Small Town Romance Collection: Four Complete Romances & A New Novella Page 7