by Arlene James
“You feeling okay?”
Betty shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I’m fine. We just had a late night, and I dropped off to sleep on Doug an-and Kitty’s couch.”
“Was the party fun?”
Betty smiled almost secretly. “Oh, yeah. Great party.”
Heller had seen that sparkle in her eye before. “You met someone!”
Betty laughed. “Sort of.” Before Heller could ask any more questions, though, Betty changed the subject. “You going somewhere?” She pointedly took in the purse, shades and pinned-up hair.
“Yeah, I thought I would, just for a few minutes.”
“That’s cool,” Betty said, shrugging again. “I’ll hang out here with the kids.”
“You don’t mind?” Heller asked anxiously.
“Nah, I got nothing else to do.”
Heller relaxed and started for the door. “Davy’s down for his nap. We’ve already had lunch. Leftover macaroni and cheese in the fridge if you want it.” She paused at the door to speak to Cody and Punk, who were down on the floor with the storybook again. “Play quietly while Davy’s napping, kids, and we’ll take a run to the park after he wakes up. Okay?” They shot her pleased smiles. “I’ve got to go out for a bit, but I won’t be long.” They threw her hurried kisses, and she threw them back. Their noses were already buried in the pages of the book again. She slipped out of the door, satisfied that she wouldn’t be missed for a few minutes.
Her old car, having had her few extra bucks poured into it, started up on the first try and took her without incident out onto the street and across town to the new apartment complex where Jack Tyler lived. She parked out of the way in a spot near the pool. A careful look at the adults, mostly women, sunning themselves at poolside told her that Jack was not among them. She checked the boisterous crowd of kids splashing in the water and tossing balls across the pool just to be sure Jack was not there, either, then hurried down the sidewalk to the two-story building that housed Jack’s apartment, identified by the numbers posted on its side. His was the corner apartment on the first floor. With his knee, he wouldn’t want to walk up and down those stairs every day. Thoughts of his bad knee gave her fresh courage. She walked up to his door and employed the brass knocker.
For a long moment she worried that he was not home, but a quick survey of the parking lot just beyond the terrace where she stood showed her his sedan parked nearby. She closed her eyes, sucked a deep breath, and lifted the knocker again. Before she could bang it against the brass plate, the door swung open. Jack stood before her wearing nothing more than a pair of gray knit shorts. His hair was wet and rumpled from a recent toweling, the towel still in his hand. Droplets of water clung to his eyebrows and mustache. He couldn’t have been more shocked.
“Heller!”
Her heart thumped just once, very hard, and then seemed to drop into her stomach. Her courage plummeted with it. She stared, literally unable to take her gaze off the broad, molded plain of his chest. Oddly, he didn’t look quite so huge without his shirt, and yet he positively oozed sheer physical power. Muscle bunched beneath his sleek, bronzed skin, smooth except for a narrow line of brown hair that began just below his breastbone and disappeared beneath the elasticized waistband of his shorts. Heller gulped and stepped back. “I—I caught you at a bad time.”
“No!” He shot out a hand and captured her by the wrist. He released her just as suddenly the next instant, jerking his hand back as if burned. “Uh, I—I mean…I was just rinsing off the, um, chlorine from the pool.”
She nodded. “Oh.” So he had been out there—with all those women. She felt her mouth turning down in a frown.
He stood like a statue for a moment, then looked her up and down as if he might discover by that means why she’d come to his door. She looked away and put a trembling hand to her hair in a bid for nonchalance. Abruptly he scrubbed the towel over his face and head and backed away from the door. “Come…come in.”
Feeling like an utter fool, Heller glanced briefly at the parking lot, then put her head down and stepped resolutely through his door. He closed it and stood at her back. She nervously looked around her, anything to avoid looking at him again. She was standing in a small, tiled foyer, a coat closet right in front of her, the living room to her right, the kitchen to her left.
Recessed lighting in the kitchen showed her a dining area next to a bow window. The table was gray slate on blue chrome with four matching chairs cushioned with knubby gray tweed flecked with blue. Just beyond, a basket of fruit and a cookie jar shaped like a fat rooster lent a homey air to an otherwise pristine gray-and-white kitchen, but it was the refrigerator that captured her attention. She wandered in that direction, taking in the awkwardly colored drawings and the construction paper cutouts that were taped to every available square inch of the double door. Cody’s advertisement was stuck over another coloring with a small magnet.
“You kept it,” she murmured, walking across the small, gleaming room to smooth down the edges of the paper with her fingertips. “Along with all these others. My, you have quite a collection.” She tilted her head, deciphering the printing on what was evidently a rendering of the school. “To Mr. Tyler, Best Prince-a-pal Ever. Gayle G.” She smiled. “Clever.”
“Gayle’s a very clever little girl,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair.
She shot him a quick look. “You really like kids, don’t you?”
“It’s why I do what I do.”
“Yet you don’t have any of your own,” she heard herself saying and immediately regretted it.
“No one to have them with,” he said succinctly.
She nodded, willing away the color in her cheeks.
He cleared his throat and said, “But you didn’t come here to comment on my lack of family or to admire my art collection.”
“No.” She bowed her head, avoiding eye contact.
“So why did you come?” he asked softly.
She turned her head just far enough to take in his bare feet. Seemingly of its own will, her gaze climbed as far as his calves and then on to his knees. The left one was scarred and slightly misshapen, flat on one side, bulging gently on the other. She tossed her hair back off her shoulders, met his gaze and said, “I was worried about you.”
He lifted a brow skeptically at that. “Oh?”
She swallowed, nodding. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was afraid your knee was troubling you.”
He slung the towel over one shoulder and folded his arms. Muscles bulged. Suddenly his chest looked a yard wide, his upper arms as big around as tree trunks. “No more than usual,” he said. “In fact, it’s probably better than usual. Swimming takes the pressure off the joint, lets me strengthen the musculature with less stress to the bone.”
“Ah. I, um, didn’t know that.”
“No reason why you should. Now, tell me why you really came.”
She opened her mouth, but closed it again when no glib excuse tumbled out of it. He shook his head in obvious disgust, turned, and walked out of the room. She followed him, feeling lower than a mole and just as lost. He walked into the small, cool living room and dropped down onto the far end of the fawn-colored sofa.
Heller took in the room with a glance, noting subliminally the butter-soft leather of the couch and matching chair, the unmarred glass tops of cubicle tables, the elegance of tall ceramic lamps with beige shades. Half a dozen trophies were displayed on the painted mantel of the small marble-fronted fireplace. Portraits of what could only be Jack’s parents and siblings hung on the beige walls in silver frames. The wall opposite the couch was given over to an entertainment center complete with television, stereo, CD player, VCR and the latest video game console.
“Cody would have a heyday with a setup like that,” she said too brightly.
Jack leaned forward, braced his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together, looking up at her. “Something up with Cody?”
She bit her lip, stepped over and took a seat
on the end of the couch opposite him, tucking her purse into her lap. “He, um, keeps asking when you’re coming over again.”
His jaw firmed. He sat up and laid an arm along the back of the couch. “And did you explain that you had effectively told me to buzz off?” he said bitterly.
Heller crumpled inside. Her eyes filled and her nose plugged up with tears. “Jack, I’m sorry about that.”
His voice sharpened. “Do you have any idea how I felt? You didn’t just shoot me down, Heller. You chopped me off at the knees, publicly.”
“I know.” The words were a whispered anguish. “At the time I thought it was the only way to deal with the gossip.”
“What gossip?”
She looked at him in genuine surprise. “I thought surely you’d heard by now.” She bit her lip pensively. “Maybe I caught it in time, after all.”
Jack sat forward again, twisting to face her. “What are you talking about?”
She spread her hands over her knees, steadying both. “My mother came to see me. Carmody was going around telling everyone that we, you and I, were lovers.”
He just stared at her, said nothing, did nothing, just stared blankly, and in that moment she knew that he didn’t care a fig what Carmody Moore or anyone else said about him.
She felt a spurt of defensive anger. “I couldn’t let them drag your name through the mud!”
He leaned toward her, splaying one big hand on the seat of the couch between them. “Heller, I’m an adult,” he told her flatly. “I’m allowed to conduct my private life in any manner I see fit, within reason, and Carmody Moore has nothing to say about it. He can spread any lie he wants, but those who know me know I’m an honorable man, and they aren’t going to judge me without hearing the pertinent facts. You might consider showing me the same consideration and stop jumping to conclusions about what’s best for me and what isn’t until you at least talk to me about it!”
Heller gripped her knees hard enough to bleach the color from her fingertips. “You don’t understand! The Swifts and the Moores aren’t the kind of people you can afford to be associated with. You’re a good man, and your reputation ought not to suffer just because you decided to look out for me and mine.”
He threw up his hands, sliding to the edge of his seat. “What are you talking about? Me and my reputation can take anything Carmody Moore wants to dish out. And as for the Swifts and the Moores, you and your kids are the only ones I give a flip about.”
“You don’t know our reputations, then.”
“Oh, don’t I? I know your old man was wild as a March hare. I know he drank himself to death after your kid brother was killed in a car wreck. I know,” he said, “that your home life was hell and that you probably thought you were escaping it when you married Carmody.”
She laughed unhappily at that. “All that did was pluck me up out of one gutter and land me in another.”
“But you didn’t stay there,” Jack pointed out. “You climbed up out of it all on your own, and I’d say that was a pretty fair accomplishment.”
“What you don’t understand, Jack,” she said desperately, “is that no matter how hard I work, there are those who will always see my parents in me.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Maybe so, but that’s the way it is. Every time Fanny gets so drunk she passes out at the table in some club or, worse yet, performs one of her infamous stripteases, I get the leers and the innuendoes at the store the next day. And even after all these years, some of my father’s old friends are still waiting for me to revert to type. They say things to me, Jack, that they’d never say to one of the women teaching at your school, because the way they see it, the gutter’s in my blood.”
“Why do you care what they think?”
“I don’t, not for myself. But for my children, Jack, and for you…My kids can’t help who their mother is any more than I could, but you…”
He opened his mouth to contest what she was suggesting, but she silenced him with two fingers laid across his lips.
“There’s one more thing,” she went on softly. “About yesterday, Jack…I don’t care what the others think about me, but I don’t want you to think I was with that guy yesterday because I wanted to be. I just needed a ride. If I’d had one brain cell working I’d have realized that you were going to come back for me, but—” She dropped her hand to her lap once more, targeting her gaze on it. “I figured there was a limit even to your goodwill and kindness. And that’s why I got in the truck with him.”
“You’re entitled to accept a ride with anyone you want,” he said gruffly.
“I know, but normally I wouldn’t give that jerk the time of day. Normally I wouldn’t have accepted a ride from him under any circumstances, but…”
He was looking at her like she had her head on crooked.
She sighed. Well, she’d said what she’d come to say, and there was comfort in having said it. If he didn’t understand, there was nothing she could do about it. She lifted her chin even as she rose to her feet and shifted the strap of her purse higher onto her shoulder.
“I just wanted you to know,” she said again.
He nodded almost absently.
She made herself smile. “Well, I have to get back. Um, t-take care of that knee.” She could see that he wasn’t listening to anything she had to say anymore, so she didn’t say anything else. She just turned and walked to the door. What else was there to say, anyway? She’d said it all, and now it was time to go. Her children were waiting. Her life, such as it was, waited for her at home, and she was ready now to get on with it. She walked through the door and closed it behind her.
Chapter Seven
He caught up with her on the terrace. It had taken him a moment to realize that she had actually gone, his mind was whirling so with all she had said and the implications of it. He was still reeling. Did she even realize that she had just exhibited more concern for him than for herself? He had thought that she didn’t care, when the truth was that she cared more than he’d thought possible. How could she leave now? There was so much to say! He clamped a hand down on her shoulder. She jumped and whirled around. He looked down into that clean, pretty face, noting that her eyelashes glinted golden in the sunshine. He was smiling, his mouth stretched so wide it hurt.
“Where are you going?”
She wrinkled her brow as if she didn’t get it. “What?”
He laughed at her confusion. “Suddenly you don’t understand English?”
His hand had drifted up to her shoulder again, but she sidestepped and shrugged out from under it. “Don’t be stupid!”
He knew then that they had more to discuss than he’d realized. He sobered. “All right. I won’t if you won’t. Now answer the question.”
She frowned and shifted her weight. He could tell she was feeling caught off guard. “I’m going home.”
“Not yet,” he said, stepping closer. “Come back inside.” His hand skimmed up her arm, seemingly of its own accord.
She shivered and pulled her arm close to her side. “Why?”
He was becoming impatient, the need to touch her so strong that it couldn’t long be denied, not that he had any intention of doing so. He curled a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up. “Because I want to kiss you.”
“What?” She literally recoiled, one hand coming up as if to ward him off.
He sighed. Was she going deaf? “I said—”
“I know what you said. I just can’t believe you’re serious.”
“Oh, I’m serious,” he assured her, and to prove it he pulled her into his arms and brought his mouth down over hers. For a moment she stood stock-still against him, and then, amid catcalls and hoots from the pool area, she abruptly pushed him away.
“Are you nuts?”
“Me?” he said, laughing at her dismay. “I’m not the one who wouldn’t go back inside.”
Her mouth dropped open. Storm clouds began building in those big blue eyes. That’s my Heller, he
thought delightedly, but he knew he’d better get her inside before the explosion came. He grabbed her by the wrist and literally pulled her into the apartment. She dug her heels in before he got her into the living room. He let go, closed the door and backed her up against it, in case she tried to bolt, which wasn’t really likely considering how angry she was just then. But it seemed wise, anyway.
“What are you trying to do,” she shouted, “ruin everything you’ve worked for? Didn’t you hear anything I said to you?”
“I heard everything you said…every word,” he told her mildly, planting his hands against the door, one on either side of her head.
She wasn’t mollified. “I can’t believe that you did that! What were you thinking, kissing me in full view of half the residents of this complex?”
“I was thinking that you’re delicious,” he said, leaning close.
Those blue eyes flashed dangerously. “Will you be serious? Don’t you see that you just heaped fuel on the fire?”
“I hope so,” he said, grinning despite his best efforts.
“It was bad enough that I even came here!” she went on heatedly. “But I felt I had to try to make you understand—”
His patience exhausted, he cut off the flow of words with his mouth, bending to capture hers and hold it until he got the reaction he wanted. For a moment, as before, she froze, and then she stiffened, going up on her tiptoes and lifting her hands to his chest as if to evade him or push him away. But it was a halfhearted effort, and he countered it by putting everything he felt for her and everything he hoped to feel with her into that kiss. She rewarded him moments later with a moan of sheer helplessness as her body melted against his and her arms slid about his neck.
He felt like celebrating, like hopping around the room and pumping his arms and maybe spiking a ball or something, but that would mean letting go of her, and the compulsion to keep this woman in his arms went far beyond any other. Just holding her, in fact, was not enough. He didn’t really know what would be enough for him as far as this woman was concerned, but he had every intention of finding out. With that in mind he scooped her up and carried her to the couch.