Beauty & the Beasts (26 page)

“You tempt me.”

“Enough?” she asked archly.

“Oh, I think so.” He wrapped her fingers around the evidence of his sincerity.

Madeline seemed pleased. Her enthusiasm was a hell of an aphrodisiac, he found. Their conversation didn’t resume for nearly half an hour.

“Fun?” he asked.

This time she lay sprawled under him, sweatdampened curls sticking to her temples and forehead. Her flushed cheeks and glowing eyes made unnecessary the shy smile and breathy, “Yes, I thought it was fun. How about you?”

“Hell, yes.” He rolled onto his side, taking her with him. “We have another hour and a half. Who knows? Maybe we can try it again before zero hour.”

She chuckled, but tiredly. How easy it would be to fall asleep with her in his arms! Considering Garth’s current attitude about their relationship, however, having him walk in on them in bed together would
not
be wise.

Her thoughts must have been paralleling his, because
she said suddenly, “I had the feeling tonight that Garth didn’t want me to stay here with you. Is he mad at me or something?”

Eric lifted his head. “Mad at you? Lord, no. He thinks you’re the sun and the moon. If I was a lesser man, I wouldn’t appreciate the constant barrage of ‘Madeline says’ and ‘Madeline thinks’—as though your words were gospel.”

“I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not a lesser man.” He kissed her forehead. “I like hearing your name.”

“Oh.” She stirred. “But then why didn’t he want me here?”

Truth or subterfuge? It was no contest.

“I don’t think it has anything to do with you personally,” he said. “He’s afraid of losing me if I get too interested in you. He’s convinced his mother doesn’t have time for him now that she’s remarried. He figures neither of us will want him if we have new relationships.”

“Oh, no! Poor Garth.” To his surprise she tugged away from him and sat up, hair falling Lady Godiva-like over her breasts. “He
has
spent a number of evenings alone when we’ve gone out. I can understand why he’d think that.”

Eric reached for her. “Don’t take him too seriously. He’ll come around.”

She scooted back a few inches. “Will he?” Her gaze seemed to search for anything less than total honesty from him. “His mom probably does have less time for him. He
needs
you right now.”

Alarmed, Eric braced himself up on an elbow. “Dammit, he’s
got
me!”

“But he’s obviously not confident that he does.” Worry lines formed on her forehead. “Have you talked to him?”

“Yeah, and gotten nowhere.”

Hesitantly she said, “We could take it easy for a while. I mean, he’ll be going home again in September.”

He stared incredulously at her. “You’re not suggesting that we don’t see each other.”

“Well…” Incomprehensible feminine wheels were turning in her pretty head. “We could casually. It’s only six weeks or so.”

He’d just made love to her, and by God he wasn’t going to wait six weeks to do it again! Or to talk, he realized a split second later; he called her almost every day just to hear her voice, to know what she was thinking and doing, to feel her sympathy and interest in the happenings of his day.

“No,” he said uncompromisingly. “Garth can adjust.”

Eyes grave, Madeline contemplated him for a disquieting moment. “I’ve grown very fond of your son. I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You won’t hurt him.”

“I’m not so sure.” Her teeth closed on her lower lip, and then she rose from the bed in one fluid movement.

If he hadn’t been so apprehensive, he could have lain there for hours watching her bend to recover her
various bits of clothes from the floor where they’d been discarded. As it was…

He swung his feet to the floor. “You don’t have to go yet.” Panic tightened his chest.

She cast him a single distracted glance. “We both need to think. Garth deserves that much.”

“I
have
thought!” he snapped. “What the hell kind of father do you imagine I am?”

“A good one.” She favored him with a gentle smile as she reached behind to fasten her delicate wisp of a bra. The movement made her breasts thrust forward. “Too good not to put him first right now.”

He argued; she listened, nodded, repeated that she liked his son too much to hurt him and continued getting dressed. To Eric’s shock, twenty minutes after the subject had come up, she was gone.

He had no idea whether she intended to come back.

Eric swore, long and viciously. He yanked on the rest of his own clothes—he’d been shirtless when he walked her to her car—and went to stare broodingly out the front window.

Time for another little talk with Garth—who by God was old enough to show some maturity and give his blessing to his father’s romance.

Because hell on earth would be having to choose between the woman he loved and his son.

D
AD WAS ENSCONCED
on the living-room couch when Garth came in at eleven. He tossed aside his book when he saw him.

“Come on in. Sit down.”

Garth plopped down on a leather ottoman and spun in a circle. “The movie was really cool! They had these lasers that—”

“Spare me,” his father said dryly. “I don’t think it’s my kind of entertainment.”

“You like subtitles,” his son said scornfully.

“Five minutes into the movie you quit noticing them.”

“Yeah, right.”

Dad straightened from his sprawling position and rested his elbows on his knees. He suddenly sounded serious. “Garth, about Madeline—”

On a spurt of alarm, Garth demanded, “What did she tell you?” He’d thought they were friends!

His dad’s brows rose. “What makes you think she told me anything?”

Garth scrambled to cover his slip. “I just thought…I mean, why do you want to talk to me about her if she didn’t complain or something?”

“Because I suspect you still don’t want me seeing her, and she’s important to me. But neither of us want to hurt you.”

Garth spun in a couple more circles, not sure what to say. Whenever he thought about Madeline and his dad, he felt tangled inside, scared and angry and guilty. Finally he muttered, “What do you want me to say? It’s okay?”

“That’d be a good start.”

“Well, it’s not okay!” Garth burst out, lifting his head. “I mean, I don’t care. If you can figure out someplace to dump me, I guess I don’t have anything to say about it, do I?”

“Nobody is dumping you,” his father said quickly. “Your mother expects you back in September, just like always.”

“Oh, and you believe that,” he said sarcastically.

“Yeah.” Dad’s voice was level. “I know your mom. I know how much she loves you.”

“Easy to say,” Garth mumbled.

Dad ignored that. “Do you just not want me to remarry? Or do you object to Madeline in particular?”

How was he supposed to know? No, that was kind of a lie to himself. “What, are you just going to pick someone else out if I don’t like her?” he asked rudely.

Dad’s eyes narrowed. “You know better than that.”

“Well, what difference does it make, then?”

His father lost it. “Goddammit, talk to me!” he roared. “How can you not like Madeline?”

Garth glared at him. “I do like her!”

“Then what?” As he always did when he was agitated, Dad tugged at his hair until it stood up in clumps. “What’s the problem?”

“You want to know?” Garth shot to his feet. “I’ll tell you! She’s too cool! You won’t want me around if you’ve got her!”

Dad rose to his feet, too. “Garth, I love you. You’re my son. This isn’t a competition!”

“No?” Garth asked belligerently, his fingernails biting into his palms. “I heard you and Mom talking when you left. It was all about who I’d live with. It was like I had to choose!”

“We never asked you to choose!” Dad had a satisfyingly shocked expression. “We wanted the best for you. We weren’t arguing over you.”

“And Mom,” Garth raged on, “she picked Chuckie, didn’t she? It was me or him, and he won!” The knowledge was a flesh-eating acid in his stomach.

“Her relationship with him has nothing to do with her feelings for you.” Dad gripped Garth by the shoulders and looked deep into his eyes, as though to convince him with this fake-sincere gaze. “She loves you.
I
love you. Dammit, even Madeline loves you! She’d be your stepmother. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Garth ducked his head and shrugged.

“What?” his father asked.

Garth hated being a crybaby, but tears filled his eyes. He wouldn’t look up. “Why would you love me when you can love her?” The question was raw.

“Because you’re my son. Because I love you no matter what else is going on in my life.” Dad went on and on, saying all the same stuff Garth had heard from his mother. So he just tuned it- out and nodded every once in a while. No adult was going to say,
Yeah, you’re right, I won’t really want you around once I have her.
They didn’t want to admit it was true even to themselves. But he could see through their phony baloney.

Dad finally let him go. Garth went into his room and cast himself onto his bed. In a second Ron had hopped up and was walking on his head, peering down at his face. Garth rolled over, squeezed Ron in
a hug that had the kitten struggling and began to sob in huge silent gulps.

Ron and Chev were the only ones who really loved him, and he was going to betray them.

“Y
OU’RE WELCOME
to come with me to the catadoption today,” Madeline said as she stuck a can of cold juice in her tote bag. “What I do for Ten Lives is important to me.”

“Yes, I see that.” Her mother set down her coffee cup with a decisive click. “I’d like to come.”

“You would?” She had to be hearing things, Madeline thought.

“Certainly.” Mrs. Howard stood. “Do I need anything?”

“A book maybe, in case you get bored. I always bring a drink. Sometimes a bag lunch.”

On the drive to the shelter Madeline kept sneaking glances at her mother. Yes, she really was here. Especially amazing, since she had yet to visit Ten Lives, despite knowing Madeline’s involvement.

“It may not be very clean yet,” Madeline warned. “Volunteers will barely be getting started changing litters and feeding the cats.”

Serenely her mother said, “Well, I hardly expect it to look like my living room.”

Right.

Mrs. Howard hovered in the entry while Madeline and Joan stuffed cats and kittens into carriers. To her credit, she helped carry them out to the car and stack them on the back seat and in the rear of the station wagon. Nor did she say a word on the drive to Lynnwood
about the chorus of yowls that filled the car, although a pained expression occasionally crossed her face. And, bless her heart, she carried cats into the big pet store, giving Madeline time to set up the sign, lay out materials on a card table and put cats that were likely to get along with one another in the large wire cage with shelves that the store had provided.

“No, these’ll stay in their carriers,” she told her mother, gesturing at several to her left. “They’re not crazy about other cats.” Glancing past the older woman, Madeline felt her heart lurch. “Oh, here’s Eric and Garth.”

“Dr. Bergstrom!” Mrs. Howard gushed. “How lovely to see you again.”

Wordlessly Garth set down the plastic carrier he carried. Conscious of Eric talking to her mother a few feet away, Madeline opened its wire door and Garth reached inside for the two black-and-white kittens. They went into the large cage.

“Can you place them together?” he pleaded.

“We’ll try.” She looked at him with compassion. “Are you sure you want to be here?”

He set his jaw. “I need to see who takes them.”

“Okay.” She touched his arm. “I’ve always felt that way, too.”

One of the store employees produced two more folding metal chairs. Madeline hadn’t expected Eric to stay, but he promptly settled down behind the table with every appearance of permanence.

When he wasn’t watching his son, his narrowed determined gaze rested on her. Once, when her
mother was chatting with someone who’d stopped to show off their ten-week-old Sheltie puppy, Eric said in a low voice to Madeline, “We need to talk.”

She turned her head to see Garth watching them. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and when their eyes met he jerked away and crouched down to pet Chev and Ron.

“Have you talked to
him?”
she asked.

Eric’s hesitation told her what Garth’s reaction had been. Seeing the knowledge on her face, Eric tightened his jaw. “Yes. He’s a kid, Madeline. He’ll come around.”

“He needs to feel secure about you,” Madeline said quietly. “Right now you’re all he thinks he has.”

“Goddammit, he—” Eric cut himself off.

Madeline turned a bright smile on an older couple who’d stopped, oohing and aahing over the cats.

“Our daughter and her children are planning to get two kittens,” the woman said. “Are any of these brothers and sisters?”

Assured that several were, the couple hurried out, promising to phone her. Garth hovered as a young woman visited all the kittens, finally choosing a small black-and-tan tabby.

“Maybe Chev and Ron won’t go today,” he said hopefully when the woman left with the kitten in a cardboard carrier.

“It’ll only get harder,” Madeline said, pretending not to notice the unhappiness that flooded his face.

He turned away quickly, and she guessed he was hiding tears.

Miracle of miracles, they placed a ten-year-old white cat named Snowman, a handsome fellow who’d come to the shelter when his elderly owner had to go into a nursing home. Snowman fought being put into the cardboard carrier, but the middleaged woman, who’d chosen him to keep her older female cat company, persuaded him. She’d stroked him gently and talked to him in a soothing murmur until he’d purred and she’d been able to back him into the box, petting him until she’d closed the flaps.

“Poor guy, he must be frightened,” she said, and smiled calmly at all of them. “I’ll take good care of him. Matilda likes her Fancy Feast. Do you suppose he will, too?”

Snowman, Madeline felt sure, was going to put on a few pounds and live a pampered life.