Angel in Disguise (7 page)

“No, that was something else the girls dreamed up for me.”

“And your favorite form of transportation is…?”

“I have a Chevy that I drive to school and a Jaguar that was a engagement gift from my parents who thought a champagne convertible was the perfect car for Bruce’s wife.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, I love it. But it’s a little hard to explain on a teacher’s salary.”

“Still, it was a nice gift.”

“They gave Bruce a house.”

“No wonder he wants to stay engaged.”

He rubbed his nose against hers before kissing the tip. She’d always thought nose-kissing was rather silly, but it wasn’t bad, not the way Pete did it. It wasn’t easy, keeping this light. Trying, she murmured, “That was a virgin nose you just kissed.”

His stomach shook again. “Nobody ever kissed your nose before? How about this hand?”

He took her hand and placed a sweet kiss in the palm. It was such a tender gesture Sunny nearly forgot to breathe.

“Is our audience getting this?”

Sunny stole a look. “There’s a cop grinning at us, and my girls are going to hurt themselves, the way they’re high-fiving each other. Brad’s still got his camera on us.”

“Okay, one more big kiss and the show’s over.”

Gathering her in his arms, pulling her across his chest, Pete kissed her as if he were starving for her. It was only an act, Sunny’s mind screamed, but the rest of her just didn’t know the difference.

Pulling back, he smoothed her hair. It was such a simple, unexpected gesture, but it stirred something
inside. Watching him back out of her drive, she was so glad he’d come into her life.

“You were terrific!” She had to say it, at least this once. “If that doesn’t silence Bruce, nothing will.”

His slow, sexy smile nearly took her breath away. “Think they’ll wonder how we could get so hot and heavy on a first date?”

“Part Two of a first date.”

“Right. That explains it.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I just hope your reputation isn’t worse now than it was.”

“You’re not saying I’m ‘easy’?”

“Oh, no, not me. I’m not crazy enough to rile a wild woman when there’s no place to run.”

“I was pretty wild, wasn’t I?”

“No—” he grinned “—you were perfect.”

Chapter Four

T
urning in her seat, noticing the TV van had caught up with them, she asked, “How long do you think the
Dream Date
crew will stay with us?”

“Meggy said they would head back once we started up the trail.”

“How long should we wait to make sure they’re gone before heading back ourselves?” They had agreed they wouldn’t actually do Part Two of the date. She didn’t feel right about camping overnight with a guy, and Pete said he understood.

“Not long. We could do something else after they’re gone,” he said, glancing her way to check out her reaction. “Would you like to get something to eat? We don’t have to end the date early.”

He really did have the sweetest smile she’d ever seen on a guy. It always started in his eyes. She would love to spend more time with him, but he’d already done so much for her, she didn’t want to
take advantage of his generosity. With studied nonchalance, she said, “Whatever. You decide.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when she knew she’d pushed the nonchalance too far. She’d sounded indifferent, as if she could have cared less, and she didn’t feel that way at all. They waited through an entire signal light in silence.

“I guess we don’t have to decide now,” he said quietly.

Dating was the pits. It was for kids who believed in magic and miracles, not for has-beens like herself who knew for a fact that fairy dust fades. She needed to make things right, but she’d never been good with words. She’d majored in physical education, for goodness’ sake. She was a person who did it, not said it.

Lord, help me to know what to say to Pete.

It was only a little prayer, but it gave her the strength to risk rejection. “How about getting a pizza?” She tried her best smile. “Or a steak? My treat. You choose the place.”

He glanced away from the road, checking her out, and a smile slid into place. Giddy, she breathed silent thanks. They’d hurdled the bad spot.

“Let’s have pizza,” he said decisively, “but I’ve got to warn you, I’m not a ‘one-topping’ kind of guy. I like them to run it through the garden, and I’ll need a salad, too, so it’ll cost you. Think you can spring for all that?”

She’d bet her last nickel Pete would eat nails before he’d let her grab the check, but she was so happy they were comfortable again, that she’d have bought his meals for a week.

“I’ll buy the pizza,” she said, “if you’ll buy dessert.”

“Ice cream?”

“Fine, but it’s got to be pistachio. I love pistachio. What’s your favorite?”

“Vanilla. I’m not much of a risk taker, although there is this place in the valley that sells peanut butter mocha fudge. I like it a lot. Want to try it after the pizza?”

“As long as it’s nowhere near San Josita. I don’t think I could take being a celebrity there again today.”

“No?” He gave her another quick glance. “You were good at it. Even I couldn’t tell you were pretending.”

It hadn’t felt as if she were. “They won’t be linking me with Bruce anymore. What shall I say when they ask me about you?”

“Do you think they will?” He seemed astonished at the possibility.

She laughed. “They’ll talk all right.”

“I guess pretty teachers always get talked about. Now that I think about it, we kept pretty close tabs on our art teacher and the blond teacher who taught French or Spanish. I forget which. They were knockouts. Who did your friends talk about?”

“The dating habits of the nuns at Our Lady of Tears didn’t generate much gossip.”

“Our Lady of Tears? Never heard of it.”

“It’s a girls’ boarding school near Carmel.”

“All girls?” he asked, horrified, or pretending to be. “Did you like that?”

“Did I like what?” She knew what he meant. She’d had this conversation before.

“A school with no guys.”

“We saw guys,” she said, assuming a lofty air.

He lifted a brow. “With a telescope trained on the beach?”

She smacked his arm. “No! For your information, there was a mountain between us and the beach.”

“Bummer. So you girls didn’t date?”

“It was a prep school, Maguire. Parents didn’t send their daughters there for the social life.”

“Prep school, huh? Sounds more like a juvie prison. Were you a bad girl, Sunny Keegan?”

The very idea of Eleanor Keegan’s daughter being a bad girl made her laugh aloud. “I’ll have you know, there’s a waiting list to get into Our Lady of Tears.”

“Go figure,” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “I wouldn’t have liked an all-boys school. Not once those hormones kicked in.”

“We had a social life. They arranged events with an all-boys school nearby. Dances, cookouts, mixers, all heavily chaperoned.”

“Doesn’t sound much different than a Dream Date.”

“The dress code was. Cheryl couldn’t have gotten away with her low-cut dress, and Kevin couldn’t have worn those holey jeans.”

“How about my tie? Betcha all the little preppies wore ties.”

“Not with grapes on them.”

He grinned at her. “You really checked me out, didn’t you?”

“Not necessarily. I just couldn’t miss that ugly tie.”

He laughed silently. “How about little short skirts? Did the nuns let you wear leather?”

“Never!”

“Pity. I liked that skirt. You’ve got great legs, Coach.”

How was she supposed to respond to that? She felt the heat build in her face.

“You want some coffee?” he asked. “There’s a thermal jug and cups on the floor.”

That was impressive. Bruce might have wanted coffee on an early-morning drive, but he would have expected her to bring it.

“If you need cream and sugar, I threw some packets in the glove compartment.”

“Pretty thoughtful.”

“No, just habit. Lisa couldn’t stand black coffee.”

Neither could Sunny until that moment. If it choked her, she’d drink hers plain. Whoever Lisa was, Sunny didn’t want to be anything like her. It was irrational, but instinctive, as natural as her sudden desire to know everything about Lisa.

Pete seemed comfortable with the silence between them, and she didn’t mind, for it gave her more time to wonder about the mystery woman. He had said, “Lisa couldn’t stand black coffee.” “Couldn’t” was definitely past tense. So Lisa was an ex. Ex what? Girlfriend, wife, coffee drinker? What?

Sunny sipped the bitter black brew and focused on the blossoming ice plants that turned the freeway into a gorgeous pink corridor. It was ridiculous to
speculate about some woman in Pete’s past, and she wouldn’t do it, not at all. She had great discipline.

Channeling that discipline, she wondered how many calories she would save by giving up cream in her coffee. She wondered if spring was Pete’s favorite season as it was hers. And she concluded that Lisa had to be a long-term part of Pete’s life if he’d developed habits of consideration toward her.

Lisa could be anybody. What earthly difference did it make? It was tacky, giving reign to curiosity. Powerful, consuming, raging curiosity that would not be denied. “Who’s Lisa?” she had to ask.

“Lisa?” he repeated, frowning.

“You mentioned her a minute ago.”

He looked at her with a blank expression.

“You said Lisa didn’t like black coffee,” she prompted.

His lip curled. “Black coffee was just one of the things she didn’t like. Lisa was my wife. She divorced me two years ago.”

It was rude to pry, but polite to show interest. “Were you married long?”

“Ten years, and we went together all through high school.”

He’d volunteered that, but it had a bitter ring that reminded her why it was bad to be nosy. She stored her coffee cup, stared blindly out the window and waited for him to share what he wanted. It wasn’t worth wasting a beautiful morning, forcing the man to talk.

Pete tapped the steering wheel in a mindless rhythm, annoyed with himself, irritated that he’d let Lisa intrude on the first, well, second, date he’d ever
had with someone besides her. Why had he mentioned her? She ought to be so far back in his brain that he couldn’t even think of her name, let alone her coffee preferences.

He hated thinking about Lisa and his old life. No good ever came of it. That’s why he stuck to his routine, going to the beach every day, going home every night. As long as he followed the pattern, he could get through a whole day without once thinking of himself as a loser.

He had Meggy to thank for yanking him out of his comfortable rut. She thought nothing of invading his privacy, expecting him to bail her out time after time. To be fair, helping her out was his choice. That’s the way love worked in their family. But he wished she’d just leave him alone.

Someday, when he was ready, he’d find something more productive to do than being a beach bum. Maybe he’d even find a nice girl, someone like Sunny who was so undemanding and self-sufficient, she’d pray for an angel to come to her aid before she’d expect it from him.

Only, he doubted there was anybody else quite like Sunny, a woman who was pretty from the inside out. He liked being with her and couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like if this camping trip were the real thing.

He could imagine them sitting by a campfire in the quiet wilderness, with her snuggled up beside him and him stealing a couple of kisses. Well, actually, probably more than a couple. Her kisses weren’t the kind a man rationed. But not too many.
Not so many that things got out of hand. He still thought some things you saved for marriage.

It was a nice fantasy. He didn’t know berries about camping, but he could read up or hire somebody to teach him. There were plenty of nice places to camp besides Big Bear where the rough terrain would be more than his hip could take—at least that’s what the doctors and therapists said.

Man, he was tired of being told what he could and couldn’t do. None of those experts knew how good he felt. He walked three miles a day, worked out and ate healthy. He was strong as an ox and determined. Someday he’d get back to where he had been.

So what if a jury thought it couldn’t be done. All they’d had were facts, figures and doctors’ reports. None of that measured heart. One of these days the insurance company would check in, see the recovery he’d made and want their millions back.

Since they weren’t actually going to do the hike, he hadn’t told Sunny about his limitations. He could tell her. He was no macho stud. He admitted weakness, sometimes. The problem was, if he told her, she’d get all sympathetic. He’d seen enough pitying eyes to last him a lifetime.

He sneaked a glance at her. Man, she was pretty, sitting there in her jeans and yellow T-shirt. The front had some kind of Christian graphic on it, but he couldn’t make out what it was without staring at her chest.

It was nice, riding along with a pretty girl, feeling like his old self. He should take a page from Sunny’s
book and stop worrying. God could take care of him, that is, if God wanted to.

Sunny drained the last of her nasty, black coffee and wondered if drinking it this way was worth keeping Pete’s mind off Lisa. He hadn’t said if they’d had children, but he seemed the kind of man who would talk about them, even show pictures, if he had any. He would make a terrific father. She knew that, though she was no expert on fathers. Or mothers. But if she ever had a baby, her child would never doubt how much he was loved, and he’d always be able to trust his mom.

When had she stopped trusting her parents? It was long before the wedding fiasco. Resentment was an old, old emotion, one that she loaned to the Lord when she ought to give it to Him for keeps.

Sometimes, when she went before the Lord, it got in the way. The Word was clear on the subject. She couldn’t have unloving feelings toward anyone and also say she loved God.

Lord, forgive me for dwelling on the past again. It’s a human thing to do, but it brings no glory to your Son. Once more, help me realize I’ve never walked this way before. It’s a new day, and You have a plan for me. You’re here, and I trust You.