High School Reunion (11 page)

He shrugged out of his shirt, leaving him in a white T-shirt and khaki pants. T-shirts did nice things for him, or maybe he did nice things for T-shirts. She forced herself to look at his face, rather than the long, lean muscles of his arms and shoulders or the hints of rippled abs hiding under the white cotton.

“If I need something ironed, I go over to Dad’s.”

Laurel tore her gaze away from his abs. “What? Iron?” She blinked, remembering the dress in her hands. “Oh. Iron.”

He sent her an odd look.

She thought about his dad in that big house alone. “I could go over there. In fact, maybe I could stay with your dad,” she said. Away from temptation.

He tossed his shirt into the bottom of his closet on top of several others. “Not a chance. I brought you here because trouble seems to follow you around. I’d rather it not follow you to my dad’s.”

She felt heat creep up from her neck to her face. “I didn’t mean—I would never put your father in danger. I just thought it would be nice to have an iron.” And be able to stretch my arms without touching you.

He scowled at her. “Don’t you have anything else to wear—something that doesn’t need ironing?”

She scrutinized the dress again, hoping maybe it wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought. But it was a rayon linen blend, and whoever had searched her room had left it in a crumpled heap on the closet floor. It was fatally wrinkled. Not even an iron could help it now.

“I’ll figure out something.”

Cade turned his head, listening. “The washer’s almost done.”

“I’ll get it.” Laurel headed for the bedroom door just as he did. They bumped shoulders as they both tried to go through the door at the same time.

She pulled back and lost her balance. Cade caught her in the nick of time before she took a header over a stack of boxes. She steadied herself against his chest.

“Careful,” he said softly. “I can’t have you hurting yourself.”

By the time she regained her balance, his thumbs were tracing little circles on the sensitive skin inside her elbow. She shivered.

“Why?” she managed. “Are you afraid I’d sue?”

He shook his head and smiled, his blue eyes shimmering like the ocean. “Nope. You’re my ticket to the reunion party tonight.”

For the first time in her life, Laurel felt a sexual thrill from an innocent touch. But looking into his eyes, she realized it wasn’t just a touch—it was the fantasy she’d harbored in her heart since the first time she’d laid eyes on him in high school.

She’d always dreamed that one day he’d walk up to her, pull her into his arms and kiss her.

But it had never happened. Until now.

“Cade?” she whispered.

His thumbs were still caressing her arms. His chest felt as hard and sculpted as it looked. She swallowed.
He was going to kiss her.

His head dipped toward hers until she could feel his breath fan across her cheek. A voice in her head recited the chronology of events that had led to this moment, and tried to make sense out of them. But how she’d gotten to this point was the last thing she cared about. She just wanted to stay.

Cade slid his hands up her arms and pulled her closer. Just as his lips touched hers, a shrill buzz pierced the air. She jumped and dropped the dress.

“What—?”

Cade’s fingers tightened on her arms. “It’s just the washing machine. It buzzes when it’s done spinning.”

Laurel’s heart was in her throat. “I’m surprised the neighbors don’t complain,” she said tightly. “I’ll put the clothes in the dryer.”

His jaw muscle worked as he let go of her. “I’ll shower, then you can have the bathroom all to yourself.”

She heard the bathroom door close as she stepped out onto the back porch.

She quickly transferred her now clean lingerie from the washer to the dryer and turned it on.

When she opened the screen door to come back inside, her gaze lit on the mantel over the empty fireplace in Cade’s miniscule living room. There were several photos sitting on it.

The shower was still running.
Good.
She had a few minutes to look at his pictures before he came out. Although why she felt the urge to be sneaky she didn’t know. They were sitting right there in plain sight. It wasn’t like she was digging into his underwear drawer.

Still, her throat fluttered as she surveyed them. There were several, most in inexpensive frames. She picked up one. It was obviously his mother, and obviously a studio portrait. She was pretty, with the same intense blue eyes as Cade. Laurel thought Cade looked a lot like his dad, but she could see from this picture how much he resembled his mother.

When had she died? The picture had a copyright date from twenty years before. Cade would have been around eleven or so.

She put the photo back and picked up one of James. There was no mistaking that wide, charming grin and the cocky, self-assured look in his eyes. Laurel didn’t remember ever actually looking into James’s eyes, but in the color photograph they were dark—maybe brown.

The next photo was of James with their father. Now
those
two looked alike. Both had dark hair, both had quick, easy grins and both of them had the look of supreme confidence that she’d always associated with James.

Two or three other pictures of James, including one of him in his Air Force uniform sat on the mantel.

“Where are
your
pictures, Cade?” she whispered.

At that very moment, the bathroom door opened and Cade stepped out. He had on sweatpants and a towel was slung around his neck. His hair was wet and spiky and his shoulders sparkled with water droplets. She tore her gaze away from his lean belly and looked down at his bare feet. They stuck out from under the sweat pants—bony, sexy, vulnerable.

He took her breath away.

Picking up the corner of the towel to blot a drop that had caught on his eyelashes, he walked over to her. She could smell the soap and the woodsy rain-fresh scent of his shampoo.

“What are you doing?” he asked shortly.

“Looking at your pictures.”

He took the frame from her hands. It was the one of James in his uniform. He studied it for a moment, then set it back on the mantel.

“He was so handsome. I’m really sorry, Cade. I know you must miss him.”

He touched each of the pictures in turn, making small adjustments in their positions as if she’d somehow violated them by moving them. “Yeah. I think about him every day.”

Laurel’s heart twisted painfully. He must have worshipped his older brother. But where were the pictures of
him?
Surely he had photos of himself with James or with his dad.

But she wasn’t about to ask. Not right now. Maybe never. She was baffled by the waves of disapproval he sent her way. The pictures were displayed for all to see, yet he didn’t want her to touch them.

“You’d better hurry up.” He turned his back on her and headed for his bedroom.

She watched him until he disappeared through the door and shut it firmly behind him. Then she fetched her clean underwear from the dryer and headed for the bathroom.

The experience of showering right after him was comforting, disturbing and confusing. The smell of his shampoo permeated the tiny, steam-filled room, sending her imagination into overdrive. She slathered her hair with her own gardenia-scented shampoo, trying to overpower his scent, and did a pretty good job of it.

Without the scent of his shampoo, she almost managed to banish the image of water sluicing over his chest and abs, running down the seductive curve of his back and over his buttocks, between his powerful thighs—

Okay, stop!

Her knees were quivering, her breasts were aching, as were other, deeper parts of her. She wrenched the water tap to cold and bit her lip at the shockingly chill spray.

By the time she finished, she’d managed to turn her thoughts to her clothes. She decided to wear a pair of black pants and a glittery sleeveless top with black high-heeled sandals.

She wrapped herself in the terry cloth robe that hung on the back of the door, popped out long enough to snatch up her clothes, and popped back inside. It took her fifteen minutes to tame her hair.

This time, when she came out, Cade was waiting for her. His hair was still slightly damp. He wore a white dress shirt, gray slacks and a summer-weight sports coat.

“Ready?” he asked shortly.

He was still upset about her touching his pictures. She wished she could figure out why. “Yes.”

Just as she spoke, her cell phone rang.

Cade frowned and looked at his watch.

She grabbed her purse and dug in it until she came up with the phone. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Laurel? It’s Debra Honeycutt.”

Laurel sent Cade a surprised look. “Debra? Is something wrong?”

Cade’s frown faded and his gaze intensified. He took a step closer and bent his head near her ear until she could feel his breath on her cheek. She tilted the phone slightly so they could both hear.

“I’m so sorry to bother—I need to talk to you.” Her voice quavered. She sounded terrified.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“No—not now. I can’t—”

Laurel heard her suck in a shaky breath.

“Can we—meet some time during the party?”

Cade put his hand on her back and nodded.

“Of course. Where? When? Just tell me and I’ll be there.”

“There’s a side door near the room you used this morning. It leads out—” her voice broke “—out to the path down to the creek.”

“You want to meet at the door?”

Debra hesitated an instant. “No. We can’t be seen. I want to meet at the creek bank, by the Swinging Oak.”

Laurel didn’t relish the idea of walking that path in the dark. It was overgrown and who knew what kind of creatures would be scurrying or slithering around in the dark. She looked at Cade questioningly. He nodded again.

“Look, Debra. We can meet now. I’ll meet you anywhere.”

“It’s still light outside. Please—please, Laurel. This is so important. By eight-fifteen or so it’ll be dark.”

“Okay. Eight-fifteen, then.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you. I can’t live like this any more. Ten years is just too—”

Debra stopped, and Laurel heard a child crying in the background and a man yelling. Then the phone went dead.

T
HE REUNION PARTY
was everything Laurel expected it to be. People who had never spoken two words to her greeted her like old friends, and girls she’d hung out with barely recognized her. A lot of folks seemed to have no idea what to say to each other, so they loaded their plates with food and kept their mouths full.

Because of the drama surrounding Misty’s attack and the fire, or maybe because she was with Cade, she got more than her share of attention. But finally the curiosity waned and she found herself standing near the bar, sipping a glass of chardonnay.

Cade paid the bartender for a beer and then turned to stand beside her. “Do you know all these people?”

“Most of them. There were only sixty or so in our graduating class.”

“Got to love small towns.”

She wondered at the note of irony in his voice as her gaze swept the crowd.

“Look.” She gestured with her glass. “There are Kathy and Mary Sue. And Debra’s around here somewhere. Now all they need is Sheryl Posey, and the CeeGees will be reunited.” Laurel sipped her wine as she casually observed the two women. “I’d love to hear what they’re saying. Have you seen Debra?”

“She brought a plate of sandwiches in from the kitchen about twenty minutes ago.” Cade turned his beer bottle up and drank.

“Here she comes.”

Debra hung back from the other two women until Kathy turned and spoke to her. Kathy
pointed toward the DJ’s table, then headed in that direction. Debra meekly followed behind her while Mary Sue wandered off through the crowd.

Kathy stopped in front of the DJ’s speakers, the one place in the room where they wouldn’t be overheard.

Kathy was obviously angry. Debra pinched her lips together and looked miserable.

“They’re arguing,” Laurel said. “Do you think she found out Debra called me?”

Cade shrugged. “No telling. Knowing Kathy, she could be upset because Debra brought out a hundred sandwiches instead of a hundred and fifty.”

“You don’t think Debra has any information for me, do you? I think she does. She said
ten years is too
—something. Probably
too long.
I think she was saying that she wants to come clean about something from ten years ago. I think she knows what happened to Wendell.”

He shrugged. “Could be. I’m sure she’s got something she feels is important, but I wouldn’t count on it being a big revelation. Debra can be a little excitable. Her husband was late getting home from a business trip several months ago, and she couldn’t reach his cell phone. She wanted me to alert every highway patrolman between here and St. Louis.”

Laurel was still watching the two CeeGees. Kathy snapped at Debra. Debra backed away, then turned and ran. At the same time, the hired DJ tapped his microphone and started his spiel about popular hits from a decade before.

Kathy glared at him as if he’d interrupted her. He ignored her, so she stomped away.

Laurel looked back at Cade. “So was Debra’s husband okay?”

“He showed up within the hour. Said he’d had a flat tire, and his cell phone battery had run down.”

“That might fit with Ann Noble’s revelation about their affair. Maybe he
was
with her or another woman.”

Cade looked skeptical.

“Still, I can’t take the chance. She might really know something,” Laurel said.

“Speaking of Ann Noble,” Cade replied, “have you seen her tonight?”

“No.” Laurel frowned. “I haven’t. That’s odd.”

“Did she say she’d be at the reunion?”

“I just assumed she’d be here, since she was on the committee. But no. I don’t think she ever said.”

At that moment, music filled the air—a power ballad that everyone recognized, and the lights dimmed and shimmered with color.

A plump, pretty redhead walked up and asked Cade about Misty. She was the latest in a stream of women who’d found a reason to talk to him ever since they’d arrived.