A Catered Romance (13 page)

“I have to change into a pair of capris,” she said.

“Why? You look terrific in those shorts. Better than terrific.”

His appreciative gaze scanned her. The light in his eyes drew out her need and longing, threatening her self-control and her pride.

He rounded the table to stand directly in front of her. Wrapping his hand around her braid, he pulled her closer until his face was inches from hers.

“Maybe we should stay here and make our own fireworks,” he said in a thick voice.

Her breath seemed to stop. It would be so easy to give in, to forget all the old hurts. The nagging voice of fear slammed into her. If she opened to him again, she’d never be free. Her heart would belong to Tom forever.

She pulled away. “The only fireworks you’ll see tonight are at Rockford.”

His soft laugh followed her into the bedroom.

CHAPTER EIGHT

B
usiness or pleasure? The thought seared into Mary Beth’s mind as she and Tom entered the sprawling park. She glanced up at him. His firm jaw spoke of a strength and masculinity that made her heart flip-flop. Her feelings about him were becoming less business and more pleasure every day. Apprehension and heat melded in her stomach.

When Tom slid his hand into hers, a current of excitement shot through her, making her stumble. He tightened his grip and their eyes met.

The intensity in his sapphire eyes acknowledged the charged atmosphere sizzling between them. Embarrassment burned through her and she looked away. His soft laugh, rich and thick, enveloped her in a sultry mix of longing and fear.

Several people in the crowd smiled at them as if they were a couple. Mary Beth stiffened and pulled her hand from his. What was she thinking? She and Tom weren’t a couple, and never would be, if she had any sense. But she was losing all sense where he was concerned.

“Let’s set up here,” he said, stopping at a spot thickly carpeted with grass and large enough for the plaid blanket they’d brought from Mary Beth’s apartment.

Around them, others were setting up lawn chairs, staking out their vantage points where they would watch the fireworks that would begin at dark.

Mary Beth settled onto the blanket and drew her knees up close to her body, wrapping her arms around them. Tom sat next to her, only inches away. She felt too vulnerable, too exposed, to look at him. She had to control her longing for him, a longing that threatened to overwhelm and weaken her.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said. She looked at him. The air around them grew heavy. Slowly, deliberately, he scanned her face, stopping at her mouth.

Her resolve to distance herself from him flew away on the gentle breeze that touched her bare shoulders and ruffled his hair. She slid her hand across the blanket toward him, wanting to caress his sculpted face, to brush aside the stray curl that fell over his forehead.

He leaned closer. Delicious anticipation made her breath catch.

“Ice cream! Get your ice cream here!” Mary Beth jumped back at the vendor’s loud cry.

She gulped air and smoothed a hand over her hair. Groups of men, women, and children milled around. She and Tom were in a public place. What had possessed her?

“I need something cold,” she said. She clamped her mouth shut. Her face burned.

Tom laughed and stood up slowly. “I know I could use some cooling off.”

She swallowed and stood too, then headed down the small slope toward the ice cream vendor, a large cooler supported by a thick strap slung over his shoulder. Tom followed close behind her.

“Why don’t we walk around while we eat these,” she said after they’d purchased cups of Italian water ice.

Taking a small scoop of the lemon-flavored treat, she glanced back at the blanket. Self-protection made her hurry away from the plaid square of temptation and into the crowd.

They strolled on the springy grass, sidestepping blankets and lawn chairs. Thankfully, she’d worn flat sandals and not a pair of her high-heeled ones. She concentrated on her dessert, but the frozen concoction couldn’t cool the sensuality that simmered in the air between them.

She forced her thoughts from Tom and focused on the smiling faces of the crowd. Little children clung to brightly colored balloons. Most of the children and some adults wore lightsticks around their necks. Once darkness fell, the sticks would glow neon bright, giving the park an otherworldly feel.

“This is fun,” Tom said. “I’m glad we decided to come.”

“Are you?”

“Definitely.” The bold challenge in his eyes shook her and she slid her glance away. She felt his gaze on her but resisted the impulse to look at him.

“I’d forgotten how good water ice is,” he said. “I haven’t had one since I was a kid when my Uncle Kevin used to sneak me to Little Italy.”

“Sneak you?” Mary Beth slanted him a look and lost her footing, tripping on some small stones.

Tom held onto her elbow, steadying her. Someone jostled him from behind and he bumped against her, sending her cup of water ice flying out of her hand to plop on the ground.

“Oh,” she said, staring down at the remnants of her treat and then up at Tom.

“I’m sorry, Mary Beth.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said, shrugging. “But it was so good.”

He laughed. “Have some of mine.” He took a spoonful of the iced treat and held it to her lips.

He stood so close. She felt his warm breath on her cheeks. Shivers of pleasure danced up her spine. She opened her mouth and took the food he offered. Closing her lips around the spoon, she savored the tart sweetness.

Tom’s gaze held hers. She couldn’t look away. She released the spoon.

He scooped up more of the lemon ice and slid it into his own mouth. Mary Beth watched his lips wrap around the spoon. Her insides liquefied. She wanted to taste him, to savor his warmth and masculinity.

“Good, isn’t it?” he said softly.

She swallowed, mesmerized by the fire in the depths of his eyes.

A group of children ran past. One of them knocked against her, jarring her back to reality and giving her a heavy dose of embarrassment.

She blew her breath out and lowered her gaze. “I guess we’d better keep walking.”

“I guess so,” he said, a note of regret in his voice. He held out his cup. “Do you want more?”

She shook her head. “No. Thank you.”

“Take it,” he said, thrusting the paper cup at her. “I spilled yours. You can have mine.” He stooped to pick up the one she’d dropped. “There must be a trash barrel around here somewhere.”

Nervousness made her finish Tom’s water ice quickly as they walked. She had to get some semblance of control over her crazy emotions. Her feelings for Tom were as mixed as the odors wafting through the dusky park—sweet scents of freshly mown grass, flowers and cotton candy, heavier smells of grilled hot dogs and hamburgers. Lightness and dark. Warmth and passion.

She shook her head to clear it. She really had to get a grip.

“My parents never took me here when I was little,” Tom said. “They always brought someone in to do fireworks on our property. I would have enjoyed this.”

Mary Beth looked up at him. “Why did your uncle sneak you into Little Italy?” she asked, suddenly remembering the conversation they’d left dangling.

He gave her a wry smile. “My parents felt certain parts of the city weren’t suitable for me. But Uncle Kevin felt differently.” His face softened. “He was really cool.”

She glanced down at the ground, trying to digest what he’d told her. Her heart tugged for the little boy who had to sneak to enjoy one of the city’s most popular treats. The boy who wasn’t allowed to mingle with the crowd at Rockford Park on July Fourth. Growing up rich wasn’t without its problems.

“There’s a trash barrel,” he said.

She handed him her empty cup and spoon and watched his long-legged gait across the grass toward the trash receptacle. His lithe agility made the men around him look like overblown dumplings.

Her heart bumped against her chest. God, he was beautiful. At one time she thought he might be hers.

Sadness clutched her and she sighed. They weren’t eighteen anymore. She had to remember the lesson of his betrayal and not open herself to hurt again. Ever.

“Tommy, darling.” The familiar, pretentious voice made Mary Beth grit her teeth.

Taylor Bennett, looking like a fifties movie star in skintight black capri’s, black slides, and a small khaki top, slithered toward Tom.
Give me a break
, Mary Beth thought.

Taylor slipped her arm through his and looked up at him, fluttering her thick lashes. White-hot anger scorched Mary Beth. She walked slowly toward them. She refused to let the bleached blonde intimidate her.

Tom smiled at Mary Beth when she reached his side. Taylor ignored her.

“I thought you were at the shore, Taylor,” he said.

“After you cancelled,” she pouted, “our other guests did too. Daddy, Mum and I decided to stay home and see what the locals do.”

Her perfectly made-up face brightened. “We’re having a little party at our house after the fireworks.” She stared up at Tom, her eyes wide. “Please join us,” she purred.

Taylor’s words and her proprietary attitude toward Tom made Mary Beth tighten her lips and curl her fingers into her palms.

Tom freed himself from Taylor and reached out to put his arm around Mary Beth’s waist and draw her close.

Immobilized by surprise, Mary Beth stood stiffly in his protective embrace. Then the realization that he’d pulled her to him in front of Taylor sent happiness surging through her. She relaxed against him.

“We have plans afterward,” he said.

Mary Beth flicked him a glance, but his expression was unreadable. If he wanted to use her to get out of an evening with the Bennetts, she’d let him.

Taylor’s contemptuous gaze swept over Mary Beth. Mary Beth arched an eyebrow and stared back.

“Tom, can I see you for a minute?” Taylor’s father, standing with some men a few feet away, beckoned.

“Be right back,” Tom said to Mary Beth. He headed for the group.

“So you two are having another fling,” Taylor said when they were alone. Her tight voice and ice blue gaze sent chills through Mary Beth.

“That’s really none of your business, Taylor.”

The blonde moved closer. The malice in her eyes made Mary Beth want to take a step back, but she held her ground.

“Don’t get too sure of yourself,” Taylor hissed. “Tom’s just with you because you’re different. Once he has his fill of you, he’ll be back where he belongs. With his own kind. With me.”

Mary Beth stretched herself to her full height and stared into the woman’s cold eyes. “Grow up, Taylor.”

Throwing her a look dripping with venom, the blonde stalked away.

“Everything okay?” Tom asked, coming up to Mary Beth.

She moved closer to him. “It is now.”

<><><>

With the blanket slung casually over his shoulder, Tom grabbed Mary Beth’s hand. They followed the crowd out of the darkened park. The swell of people forced her to stay close to him.

Wrapped in a sweet cocoon with Tom, she barely noticed the cries of small children and the talk and laughter that swirled around them.

The feel of his lean, muscular body spiked delicious shivers through her. She wanted his closeness, wanted her hand in his. She’d enjoyed being with him tonight. He always made her feel more alive, all her senses sharpened.

Mary Beth inhaled the acrid smell of lingering fireworks that mixed with the flower-laced air. The whole evening had been like that, the bitter with the sweet.

Her conversation with Taylor had left a bad taste in her mouth. But that didn’t matter now. Tom walked beside her.

Over the past months, and especially hours ago in her apartment, he had peeled away layers of himself, revealing a kind, sensitive man, so different from the Tom simmering in her memories all these years. At the park tonight he’d been so attentive, particularly in front of Taylor. Mary Beth’s pride had slowly melted with each new layer he exposed.

She glanced up at his strong profile. The truth hit her like a bucket of ice water. She needed Tom Sackett. Needed his strength and his acceptance of the woman she’d become and not of her as his teenage fantasy. Longing, and a dash of fear, stirred a heady brew in her stomach.

Someone in the crowd bumped hard against her, making her gasp.

Tom shifted the blanket to his other shoulder and tightened his grip on her hand. “Let’s get out of here before you’re trampled.”

She nodded, warmed by the concern in his voice.

He pulled her through the crowd, clearing a path for her, protecting her.

It had been so long since anyone took care of her, since anyone made her feel special. Her last residue of doubt dissolved into the warm summer night.

“This is better,” Tom said when they’d reached a moon-dappled side street. A few pedestrians hurried by them.