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Authors: Deb Stover

Always (8 page)

BOOK: Always
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      "Oh, I don't believe this." Taylor stood on the porch and stared at his Jeep. "The same one?"
 

      The expression of utter delight on her face would be his undoing. He was as good as nuked.

      "Yep, same one." He followed her down the walk and through the gate. Without hesitation, she climbed into the passenger side, her smile triggering more memories.
 

      Another dangerous thought struck him as he walked around the front of the Jeep and climbed into the driver's seat. Besides his mom, Taylor was the only living person in the world who shared his love for this old Jeep. She'd shared his love
in
this old Jeep. The memory was as vivid as it had been that summer.

      "I can't believe it's the same one." Her laughter crawled right into him, igniting feelings of warmth and affection, contrary to his emotional Armageddon.

      
I'm in big trouble.

      "Buckle up," he said, struggling against the urge to gather her into his arms. After fastening his own seat belt and hearing the reassuring click of hers, he started the engine and dropped the Jeep into gear.
 

      He ventured a side glance at her before pulling away from the curb. Dammit, she was still smiling. Why couldn't she be rude and arrogant? Or ugly? That would've been even better. Safer.

      But no. She was drop-dead gorgeous, with the same wholesome beauty she'd always had, plus the added enhancement of full-blown womanhood.

      His groin tightened again and he knew with the utmost certainty that he could now pronounce himself fully recovered from this morning's ant attack. All systems go.

      
For a one way mission to Nowhere.

      Silently cursing his own weaknesses, Gordon drove the few short blocks to Sue's house. On the edge of town nearest his cabin, the modest brick ranch sat back off the road in a pine grove.

      "Here we are." He pulled into the drive and parked next to a strange car. Looking again as he cut the engine, Gordon groaned. Correction, the mid-size sedan wasn't strange at all.

      It was painfully familiar.

      "What's wrong?" Taylor asked, reaching out to touch the back of his wrist with cool fingers. "You feel all right?"

      "No, I don't think either of us is going to feel all right after we go inside." He turned to Taylor with a sigh. "Guess who's coming to dinner?" The setting sun bathed her in shadow, but he still saw her bewildered frown.
 

      "Well, I guess we are," she said.

      Gordon jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the blue sedan. "Unless someone else Sue knows has the very same car, which I doubt in a town the size of this one, we're about to...."

      "To
what
?" She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and squeezed hard. "Gordon Lane, stop teasing me and tell me whose car that is."

      He rolled his eyes heavenward, then looked at her. "My mother's."

      "Oh." Taylor fell back against her seat, releasing him at the same time. "That means..."

      "Yep." Gordon gripped the steering wheel with both hands. "That means she's heard about you being here, and I'll bet Ryan's gotten an earful, too."

      "About...us," she said unnecessarily. Her sigh equaled his own. "This should be interesting."

      "I'd say that's an understatement-and-a-half." He started to chuckle, then the more he thought about it, the louder he laughed.

      "What's so funny?"
 

      He turned to look at her shocked expression. "All of this."

      "All of what?"

      "This. Us. The
irony
." Gordon's laughter died in his throat. "Think about it, Taylor." His voice fell to a whisper. "Think about it."

      His blood roared through his veins, screaming "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her." He'd like nothing better. All sense of reason fled and he reached out to touch her cheek with the backs of his fingers. So soft...

      
But she left me–didn't trust me.

      Still, he couldn't stop himself from touching her, savoring the feel of her skin. Memories and pain bombarded him until he could barely breathe.

      Taylor leaned into his caress, and he brought his other hand to her opposite cheek. This felt so right, almost as if she'd never left.

      But she had left.

      No, he wouldn't listen to that vindictive voice. Not now. At this moment, all he wanted was to taste her lips, to see if she was as sweet now as before.

      "Gordon?"
 

      The sound of her voice fueled his need and he inched toward her. Closer. Closer. Closer.

      
Bam!

      A loud thump on the Jeep's hood made them both leap back, gasping. The sun was low enough now to trigger the motion detector on the floodlight. Gordon squinted at the harsh interruption.

      "Hey, Gordon," Ryan slapped the hood of the Jeep again. "Hurry and come inside. Your mom's here. Boy, she sure knows a lot of stories. 'Course, I don't believe half of 'em."

      "Hmm. Yeah, I'm sure she does." Gordon looked over at Taylor and saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest, though she kept her face averted. They'd come so close.

      So close to making a big mistake.

      
Damn
. He didn't need this. His blood pressure undoubtedly hit the critical point as he wondered how he'd ever survive this evening with the woman who'd broken his heart ten years ago, the woman who wasn't interested in him as anything more than a friend, and his mother.

      All in one place at the same time.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

      Taylor held her breath as she followed Gordon to the aqua front door. He'd almost kissed her, and she would have let him. What had come over her? High school madness? She was an adult now. She could handle this.

      
Get tough, Taylor.

      Sue gave her a nervous smile, and Taylor remembered to breathe just in time to prevent a blackout. She had to face the past, the present, the future.
 

      
And Gordon's mother.

      "Thank you for inviting me," she said, though her thoughts were just the opposite. Why had she let Sue talk her into this? Oh, hell, she knew why. Because she had to live among these people for the next three years, and making peace–or at least proving she could ignore the past–was a prerequisite to continued sanity. Hers.

      "Hi, Taylor." Sue's voice sounded subdued, but her smile was open and genuine. "I'm glad you could come. Priscilla is here. She's in the kitchen."

      "Yeah, we heard," Gordon said from behind Taylor.

      Ryan bounded past with a toy airplane, making noises Taylor hadn't realized a human could produce. Of course, her mother'd often said that little boys could sometimes be
 
called human-esque. Now Taylor understood why. Her own brother had been two years older, but she did remember more than a few incidences of somewhat inhuman behavior.

      A smile of remembrance tugged at her lips and she looked around Sue's tidy living room. The beige and mauve decor was warm and homey. One wall boasted photos of Ryan at various ages, from infancy to present. A cast-iron wood stove occupied one corner. Summer evenings at this altitude often included a warm fire.

      "Dinner's almost ready," Sue said, turning toward the kitchen. "I thought we'd eat on the back porch since it's so nice this evening."

      "Something smells great," Gordon said, taking Taylor's elbow and steering her toward the kitchen. "If I ate here every night, I'd weigh three hundred pounds."

      
Why don't you eat here every night
? Taylor cast him a sidelong glance and swallowed the lump of trepidation lodged in her throat. She should forget the past, but she couldn't. Unanswered questions tormented her.

      The kitchen was clean and spacious, with white cabinets, appliances, and ceramic tile. A blue stenciled design adorned the woodwork, giving the room a country French appearance. Of course, Sue had always been artistic.

      Taylor tried to nudge aside memories of her teen years,
 

when she and Sue had been practically inseparable. In some ways, losing her best friend had hurt almost as much as losing her first love. She drew a sharp breath and released it slowly.

      "Sue, shall I dress the salad?" Priscilla Lane asked as she stepped through the back door.

      "No, we'll let everybody do their own." Sue took a tray and slipped behind Priscilla and out the back door.

      Priscilla's lips pressed into a thin line as her son bent and kissed her on the cheek.

      "Hi, Mom. Surprised to see you here."

      Mrs. Lane patted Gordon's shoulder and inclined her head

–an impossibly tight array of frosty curls–toward Taylor. "So you came home at last, I see."

      "It's good to see you again, Mrs. Lane." Taylor's pulse thrummed in her ears and perspiration coated the back of her neck. Once upon a time, Priscilla Lane had been like a second mother to her. "I'm here temporarily."

      "Three years, I hear." Mrs. Lane lifted her bony shoulders in a shrug. "Think you can manage that long, or will you run away again?"

      "Mom." Gordon's voice held a warning, but it went unheeded.

      "It's the truth." Mrs. Lane lifted her chin, her bright blue eyes piercing Taylor. "She ran away once, she could do it again." She tilted her head to one side and arched a silver brow. "Just don't take my boy's heart with you this time."

      "Maybe I should just–"

      "Cowards always run," the older woman said, pivoting to grab the salad dressing and a stack of blue gingham napkins. "You come from good stock. Show us some of your family's backbone, Dr. Bowen. Show us the girl you used to be."

      Without another word, Mrs. Lane vanished through the back door again. Gordon met Taylor's gaze, his expression part apologetic and part something she couldn't define.

      
Mrs. Lane is right, and I'm no coward
. She squared her shoulders and drew a shaky breath. If she didn't let Gordon and Sue matter, they couldn't hurt her again.

      But they did matter. Both of them.

      Ryan zoomed through again, still playing with his airplane. "Patches is sure glad to be home," the boy said as his plane took a nosedive, then shot straight up with appropriate sound effects.

      "Is he out back?" Gordon turned his attention to the child.

      "Yep, but he gets to sleep in my bed tonight." Ryan grinned. "Mom said he could, since he's been sick."

      Gordon chuckled and patted Ryan's shoulder. The child stopped moving at last. "Remind me to have a look at him before I leave."

      "Sure." Ryan resumed his trip to Mars through the back door. "I'm starved."

      "Let's eat," Gordon said.

      He gave Taylor a lingering look that drifted down the front of her sweater and made her face–and other regions–flame. She realized his mind wasn't on food, and the thoughts ricocheting through her brain and libido definitely didn't require salad dressing. Well...

      "Dinner?" He pointed toward the back door. "They're waiting for us."

      She shook herself and licked her suddenly dry lips.
Yep, I've gone way too long without a man
. Combing her fingers through her hair, she strode past Gordon and onto the screened-in porch. Lamps burned at both ends of the enclosure, and a long table was set with white pottery and blue gingham.

       
"You sit there, Taylor." Sue pointed to a chair at the far end of the table. "Gordon?" She indicated the chair on the corner beside Taylor. Ryan and his plane made a low pass. "Park it right there, fly boy."

      The child obediently dropped into a chair between his mother and Priscilla Lane. Apparently food was not only the key to a man's heart, but also an effective means of controlling wayward boys. Taylor made a mental note.

BOOK: Always
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