Authors: Beverly Barton
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Religious
Caleb stood alone in the parking area long after everyone else had left. Why did he feel like a bad guy? Why did it bother him so damn much that he had disappointed Danny Vance? He didn't owe Sheila's son anything and it was best for both him and the boy if they didn't get too tight.
Admit it, Caleb told himself. You like that kid and you want him to like you, to keep on admiring you. You know how it feels to be the only kid on the team whose father is dead. You can relate to Danny, can understand how he feels and what he wants. He wants a father the way you always did.
For some reason Caleb couldn't fathom, a crazy notion crossed his mind. What would it be like to have a son—a boy like Danny? He'd never thought about having children, never considered the possibility that anything was missing from his perfect life. But being back home in Crooked Oak, having spent time with Sheila and her son, made him wonder if something really important hadn't been missing from his life for a long time before the boating accident had ended his career. A wife. Children. A family of his own.
Four
Caleb awoke with a slight hangover, a severe arousal and a rotten attitude. Last night should have been fun. But it hadn't been. He had gone through the motions with Gwyn Baker and it certainly hadn't been her fault that their date had ended so badly. She hadn't been lying when she said she knew all the hot spots between Crooked Oak and Nashville. He thought they'd hit at least half a dozen places, drinking and dancing and partying it up big-time, before he'd brought her back to the farm. Hell, the woman had been all over him, thrilled at the thought of spending the night with the hometown celebrity—the famous Caleb Bishop. Maybe if she'd just kept her mouth shut, if she hadn't gone on and on about him being a superstar, she might still be in his bed this morning.
Or maybe she would be there still if he hadn't been thinking about Sheila Vance the whole time Gwyn had rubbed against him like a cat against her master's leg. Why couldn't he forget the kiss he'd shared with Sheila on her front porch? He had shared more passionate kisses with far more beautiful women. Gwyn to name just one. But when the moment of truth came last night and he had tossed Gwyn down on his bed, he'd looked at the woman lying there, her arms open wide, and he had seen not the sultry petite Gwyn, but Sheila Vance. The momentary apparition had shaken him so badly that he'd made up some stupid excuse and driven his date straight home.
Caleb stumbled into the bathroom, groaned when he saw his bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror, then turned on the faucet and slapped cold water in his face.
You idiot,
chided a voice inside his head.
You had a willing woman in your bed last night and you sent her home because of a kiss you shared with Sheila. A kiss. Nothing more. And with Sheila! What's the problem here? Can't your ego take a rejection? Do you want Sheila simply because she said no and you aren't accustomed to being refused?
Just as Caleb reached out to turn on the shower, the telephone rang. He really didn't want to talk to anyone, but on the off chance it was Tallie checking up on him, he thought he'd better answer, otherwise his baby sister was liable to have the local sheriff out to check on him.
He picked up the receiver. "Yeah?"
"Caleb, this is Mike Hanley. I've found you a 1968 Firebird convertible. It needs a lot of work, but the body's sound. She used to be a beauty and if you're willing to put enough money into her, she can be a showstopper. Are you interested?"
Was he interested? Maybe. The only thing that had ever interested him much, besides baseball and women, was cars, and he'd never forget how much he'd loved his GTO.
At least overseeing the restoration of a car would give him something to occupy his mind until he decided what he was going to do with the next thirty or forty years of his life.
"I'm interested. How soon can you make the deal?"
"The car's here right now, at the garage," Mike said. "All you have to do is come in with your checkbook and you could take possession today."
"Yeah, sure. I'll run by in a while," Caleb said. "How long do you think it'll take to restore her?"
"That depends on how long you want to take." Mike chuckled. "If you're looking to kill some time, we could make the job last for months."
"I haven't tinkered around on a car in a long time, but I think it might do me good to get some grease under my fingernails while I'm killing time."
Sheila pretended not to notice Caleb when he arrived. He was the last person on earth she wanted to see—especially the morning after his big night with Gwyn Baker. She should have known that Gwyn would make a beeline straight to Caleb and that he, being the man he was, would take her up on what she was offering. It wasn't that Sheila disliked Gwyn. Despite the fact that their sons were good friends, she really didn't know Devin's mother all that well. Except by reputation, of course. Everyone in Crooked Oak knew that most men found the pretty, young divorcee irresistible and that people in general considered her irresponsible. Devin spent more time with his aunt than he did his mother. Yeah, Gwyn was just the type of woman Caleb needed—a fun-loving girl who wasn't looking for more than a good time.
"Hey," Caleb called when he entered the garage. "Where's Mike? He's supposed to have an old Firebird waiting here for me."
"Mike took the tow truck out," Sheila said, lifting her gaze from the order form on the desk in front of her. "There was a two-car wreck out on Willow Lane. He'll probably be busy for a couple of hours."
"Anybody hurt?" Caleb asked.
"Nothing serious."
How could one man be so gorgeous? Sheila mused. It just wasn't fair that Caleb was so beautiful and yet at the same time so very masculine. And it certainly wasn't fair that a plain girl like her had fallen head over heels in love with the handsomest man on earth twelve years ago.
"So, should I hang around and wait on Mike, or should I come back later?" Caleb asked, peering over the top of her computer.
"Suit yourself," she replied. "The Firebird is parked out back, so if you'd like to take a look, go right ahead. But if you'd prefer to come back when Mike's here, then you can probably catch Gwyn on her lunch break over at Amber's Beauty Bar."
"Amber's Beauty Bar. Hmm. Yeah, I think she mentioned she'd be free around noon." Caleb noted the slight flush on Sheila's cheeks and wondered if he had mistaken the sharp edge to her voice when she'd mentioned Gwyn. Was it possible that Sheila was jealous?
"I'll tell Mike you'll be by later this afternoon." Returning her attention to the order form she'd been filling out, Sheila dismissed Caleb.
He draped his arms around the computer and leaned over it. Sheila gasped and jumped simultaneously. Caleb grinned mischievously.
"I thought you were going over to Amber's," she said.
"I didn't say I was going anywhere." Caleb rounded the desk and grabbed Sheila's right hand with his left. "I think I'll pass on lunch with Gwyn today."
Sheila jerked her hand out of his grasp and glared at him. "Oh, I see. Gwyn was just another one-night stand for you, huh? She was fun last night, but today you want something different—someone different."
Caleb perched his hip on the edge of Sheila's desk. "I wanted someone different last night, but the lady I really wanted to be with wasn't available."
"Is that right? Who, pray tell, is this unavailable lady you wanted to be with instead of Gwyn Baker? She must really be something, considering Gwyn is the gal every guy in Crooked Oak has the hots for."
"She's something special—my unavailable lady. But the more I pursue her, the more she backs away. Maybe you can help me figure out how to make some points with her."
Sheila raised her gaze quickly, stunned by his request. "I don't have time for your games, Caleb. If you want to play, go play with Gwyn or someone like her."
"You aren't interested in helping me make points with the lady I want?" Caleb asked, a comical forlorn look on his face.
"Will you please go away and leave me alone. All you're doing is trying to aggravate me. I know exactly what you're getting at and it's not going to work. I'm well aware that this unavailable lady you're talking about is me."
"Ah, you guessed my secret." He grabbed her hand, brought it upward and pressed his lips against her soft flesh.
Sheila quivered, the sensation spiraling through her body like a puff of shivering wind. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he pursuing her when there were far more attractive women than she willing to fill his lonely hours? Didn't he realize that she couldn't succumb to his flirtation without losing her heart? And she knew Caleb Bishop. He
might
actually want her for one night or even several
nights. But
he wasn't the marrying kind, and that was the only kind of man she needed. She couldn't think only of
herself;
she
had to
consider
Danny in any
decisions she
made.
Any man she took
an interest in would automatically become potential father material in her son's mind. She could
hardly have a casual affair
with Danny's idol without giving her
son false hopes.
She might understand that dating Caleb
would be
only a temporary arrangement, but
Danny would delude himself
into
thinking the new man in his mother's life was going to stick around for the long haul.
She jerked her hand out of his once again. "Tell me something, Caleb—why would you prefer my company to Gwyn Baker's? She's prettier than I am, smaller than I am, more feminine than I am, and I'm sure she's far more experienced in bed than I am."
Caleb was momentarily taken aback. He wasn't accustomed to such frank honesty from a woman. But what had he expected? This wasn't just any woman. This was Sheila Hanley. Sheila Hanley Vance, the only woman, other than his sister, who'd ever been completely straight with him. She hadn't been impressed with his high-school-jock, teen-heartthrob image twelve years ago and she sure as hell wasn't impressed with his superstar-stud image now.
"Who says Gwyn's prettier than you?"
"Don't try that on me!" Narrowing her gaze, she gave him a dirty look. "I'm not some naive teenage girl willing to put out in the back seat just because she thinks the guy she's had a crush on for years has finally fallen for her. That Sheila is long gone, so save your sweet talk for someone gullible enough to believe you."
"I suppose you have a right to still be pissed at me about what happened, but I swear to you, Sheila, I never meant to hurt you."
"So you said, the very next morning. And I believed you. But pardon me if I'm not interested in getting my heart broken a second time by a guy who's just passing through town on his way to the rest of his life."
She shoved back the chair, jumped up and walked away from him, practically running out the side door that led to the fenced area where they parked the junked cars. Why had she brought up the past? Why couldn't she have just played his silly little game, brushed him off and laughed about it later? Good heavens, she'd all but told the man she was still in love with him.
The April noontime sun was warm and bright, heating her skin through her cotton knit shirt and faded jeans. Pressing her forehead to the wooden fence, she closed her eyes and prayed that Caleb had left. She didn't want to face him so soon after her emotional confession.
His big left hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing gently. She trembled from head to toe. Her body tensed at his touch.
"I was an eighteen-year-old kid," he said quietly. "I thought with my pecker and not my head, like most boys that age. I can make all kinds of excuses for why I made love to you that night. Like I'd had too much to drink and I was high on life. I'd just graduated from high school. I had a baseball scholarship. And I was grateful to you for helping me make my dream come true."
"And you had sex with me out of gratitude? Is that what you're trying to say? 'I'll give poor ole, plain Sheila a little thank-you sex and she'll be grateful to me for the rest of her life.'" The anger that had lain dormant in her for twelve years rose to the surface and erupted in a massive outburst. Balling her hands into fists, she turned to face him. "Damn you, Caleb Bishop! You have no idea how much your little thank-you cost me!"
He tightened his hold on her shoulder when she struggled to escape. "It cost you your virginity and I really am sorry about that, especially if it mattered to Dan that there had been somebody before him. And I'm sorry, too, if I broke your heart. I guess I knew, after that night, how you really felt about me, but … I … well, I—"
"But you didn't love me. And you didn't want me. And you had your whole life mapped out. First to make a name for yourself in college baseball and then to go to the major leagues. I didn't figure into your life at all and—and I knew that."
"I guess I didn't realize you still hadn't forgiven me for what happened." Caleb lifted his hand and tenderly caressed her cheek. "I suppose I figured you'd gotten over me a long time ago, that after marrying Dan and having his child, what happened between us wouldn't mean much to you. Was I wrong, Sheila? Did you marry Dan Vance on the rebound? Did he know about me?"
Did Dan know about you, Caleb? Did he know that I loved you? That you'd been my first lover? Of course he knew! How could he not know? I was pregnant with your child when he married me.
Sheila smiled, then laughed. Caleb stepped away and stared at her. She tossed back her head and took a deep breath, all the while chuckling to herself as if amused by some private joke.
"Yes, he knew about you," she said. "Daniel and I didn't have any secrets. He was a good man. A very good man. And he was a wonderful father. He loved Danny more than anything on earth. He had always wanted a child, but he and his first wife didn't have any."
Standing straight and tall, she lifted her chin defiantly. "I haven't spent the past twelve years pining away for you, so don't think that I have. But I haven't forgotten how I felt when you …" She paused and looked directly at him. "When you went away and never came back. Never called. Never wrote. I don't want a repeat performance. I'm not emotionally equipped to handle a brief, meaningless affair today any more man I was equipped to handle a one-night stand twelve years ago."
"You think that's all I'm capable of, don't you? One-night stands and meaningless affairs."
"You tell me," she said. "Do you think you could ever offer a woman more?"
Lowering his head, he looked down at the ground, deliberately breaking eye contact with her. "I honestly don't know." He glanced up and their gazes locked. "But I will tell you this—if you and I have an affair, it won't be meaningless."
"Not to me," she said.
"Nor to me." He turned and walked away, then stopped, glanced over his shoulder and said, "Tell Mike that I'll come back later and take a look at the Firebird."
"I'll tell him."
She watched Caleb disappear around the side of the garage, heard his Porsche start up, and listened as he drove away. Her shoulders slumped, her head drooped and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Well, you got what you wanted, didn't you? she told herself. Caleb Bishop isn't going to bother you again. You're safe from making a fool of yourself over him. And Danny's safe from ever finding out the truth.