Just One Week (5 page)

If she got the job at Cardmouth, it would take over her life. Not only would she have her research, but they’d expect her to teach. Her own laboratory with graduate assistants to supervise. Grant writing, giving talks at various symposia. All the things required for tenure. She’d work seventy-hour weeks for years and wouldn’t have time for anyone else in her life.

But before she’d do all that, she’d have these few days with the man she’d wanted for years. She’d show him she wasn’t Kyle’s kid sister any longer. She was a woman—one he desired very much. They’d have this time together, and then she’d push him out of her life the way he had done to her eight years ago. Could revenge be any sweeter?

For now, she’d plow through the clothing she’d brought for the right outfit for the family picnic tomorrow. Something understated but sexy, with the right makeup to appear attractive but not overdone. Operation Seduce Alex Stafford started in the morning, and she’d better get her beauty sleep.

For just a moment, she glanced at the lupines in their jar on the windowsill. Alex might not be her knight in shining armor any longer, but soon he’d be her lover.

…

How the hell was he supposed to get to sleep with a rock hard erection? Alex punched his pillow, when he really ought to be punching himself. What had come over him out in the cottage? Sure, he’d found himself alone with a beautiful woman, and he hadn’t so much as touched anyone since his relationship with Zoe had gone in the toilet two…no, three months earlier. Still, horniness couldn’t explain the visceral reaction he’d had to standing there, watching Mickey and remembering the scene with Phil Cavanaugh. It was years ago, but those fifteen minutes still affected both of them. It had felt like a punch to his gut to find them together like that—half naked and ready to…

Ah, crap. He sat straight up in the narrow bed, sweat damp on his chest although the night wasn’t the least bit hot. The images came back. All of them, tumbling over each other in more detail and clarity than he could stomach. Mickey’s bra twisted around to expose small, firm breasts, her nipples erect. Her legs parted. Damn it all, he’d had his first and only view of the curls that covered her mound, something he never should have seen. And Phil ready to…ready to…

“Damn it.” He threw the pillow across the room. Ready to have sex. Phil Cavanaugh having sex with his Mickey.

“It should have been me,” he whispered, more because he could barely stand to think the words than any fear that someone else might be awake to hear them.

Oh, no. He would not go there. She raised every protective urge he had just by entering a room. She always had, from the first time he’d noticed that Kyle’s sister caught nothing but grief from their father. At first, he’d thought the little ghost who kept to Kyle’s shadow was only shy. Even at ten years old he’d soon realized she didn’t smile because she had no reason to. From then on, he’d made it his business to make sure he and Kyle not only tolerated her but happily included her in anything they did. When she couldn’t swing a bat, he got her a smaller one, and the three of them had worked until she could hit a ball way over her brother’s reach. She’d smiled for real then and warmed his heart.

Since then, he’d taken on the role of her protector, even from himself when hormones got the better of his imagination. He’d wanted to do all those things to her, with her, but he’d held himself in check. He’d been a hero then, damn it, and he could remain one now.

Her reaction to being back in the cottage had surprised him with its intensity. She’d suddenly looked so small standing there, her eyes wide as she took in every detail. A soft whoosh of air had escaped her when she’d spotted the lupines, and then she’d stared at them with a bittersweet smile on her face. She’d made him feel on top of the world for having put them there, all the while he’d wanted to smooth the sadness on her face away with his fingertips. Protective again after eight years apart. Male instincts paired with memories of adolescent cravings served up with a side of recent celibacy. She’d been vulnerable, and he’d taken advantage. Nothing heroic there.

Groaning, he lay back down. Resting the back of his hand over his eyelids did nothing to get rid of the image of her nibbling on her lower lip. She probably hadn’t even realized she’d done that, but boy howdy, he sure had. He’d watched her eat all through dinner, only a couple of feet away from her across the table. Taking bites of her food into her mouth and then cooing her bliss, her eyes half-closed. He’d become erect right then, and only the boredom of watching TV with Kyle while the others played bridge had eased the embarrassment in his pants. He should have known he’d do something stupid when he had her alone.

Well, too late for woulda, coulda, shoulda. He’d kissed her, and she’d melted against him, pressing in all the right places, and now his sex was paying him back for being an asshole. He could throttle the thing into submission, but he’d only make a mess in the sheets. Maybe he could sneak a cold shower without waking anyone else up.

He kicked the covers off and rose, butt naked. No way was he wrestling an erection this stiff into a pair of pajamas, so he pulled his robe down from the hook on the door and shrugged into it. After taking extra care to fasten the front so the boner couldn’t peek out, he opened the door and padded silently down the hall to the bathroom. When he hit the switch, the light bounced off tiles and porcelain, blinding him for a second. Gripping the sink, he checked himself out in the mirror. He had quite a stubble of beard, of course, and his eyes were sunken from lack of sleep. The jet lag from his flight hadn’t worn off quite yet, and it was after two in the morning. All that plus the unflattering skin tone the fluorescents gave him made him quite the heartthrob. With any luck, Michelle wouldn’t want any more kisses, and they could settle things between them in a more rational manner.

With a sigh, he dropped the robe and stepped into the shower. After closing the glass door behind him, he turned on the jets to something just above freezing. Shivering, he splashed water all over himself and gritted his teeth to keep from shouting. Even this insistent hard-on had to succumb after a while, and when it finally shrank, he turned the faucets off and shook himself like a dog.

That’d teach him to entertain horny thoughts—and yeah, okay, actions, too—about his friend’s sister. His own friend, too, at least as close to him as a sister could be. To add a little penance and because it would make his mother happy, he grabbed a towel and used it to swab down the walls of the shower. Then he dutifully placed it in the hamper before getting into his robe again and stepping out into the hallway.

If there was one person in the family who could catch you doing something you’d prefer left private, it was his brother. Even his mother hadn’t found out about every boneheaded little move he’d made in his life, and she had eyes in the back of her head. So not Mom, but Chase emerged from his bedroom, leaning against the door jam, a split second before Alex managed to disappear into his own room.

“Late night?” Chase asked.

“Something like that. What are you doing up?”

“Need to use the head. Isn’t that what you were doing?”

“Sure.” Chase would notice the dampness in the shower and on the bath mat. Let him.

“Michelle forgot to draw trumps tonight,” Chase said, as if he expected that to make any sense. “More than once.”

“You want to translate that?”

“It’s a standard bridge move…drawing your opponents’ trumps. She forgot to do it.” Chase paused for effect. “Almost as if something was rattling her.”

“Next, I guess you’re going to tell me she always draws…whatever.”

“Trumps,” Chase supplied. “I have no idea. We only found out tonight she plays.”

“Then maybe she’s just bad at bridge.”

“A woman of her intellect? Hardly.”

“I wouldn’t know about intellect, would I?” Damn it. Why did he say things like that?

Chase straightened. “You have no reason to get defensive, Alex.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Chase had never judged him or put him down. No one else in the family had, either. He hadn’t had any sleep, and he still hated himself for how he’d treated Michelle. Naturally, he’d pick at that scab.

“You could play bridge if you wanted,” Chase said.

Maybe he could. The cards were all numbers and symbols, not letters. They might keep themselves in the right order. But what if they didn’t?

“You can do anything you want to.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” Alex gave Chase a quick hug, all very masculine and brotherly, before heading off to his room. He could do anything he wanted to, huh? They’d all told him that, over and over, since first or second grade. Dad had even insisted he could work in the family business, if his interests ran in that direction. Yeah, sure. A man who took three times as long as normal people to read a book would make one hell of a publisher.

“I mean it, Alex,” Chase said.

Yeah, Chase always meant it. So did Mom and Dad, and they were always wrong. They had no idea how it felt to go into a restaurant on a first date and sweat bullets over reading the menu. Over the years, he’d developed strategies—always going to places he knew. Claiming what his date was having sounded fabulous and he’d have that, too. Simply describing what he’d like and hoping the kitchen could prepare that. A big steak was usually safe, but not always.

“You don’t have to be in control of every situation, you know,” Chase said. “If you screw up at a friendly card game, who’d care?”

“Maybe if my partner were a research scientist, she’d care.”

“Michelle wouldn’t judge you,” Chase said.

No reason she shouldn’t. He’d sat as judge and jury on her when he’d found her with Phil Cavanaugh, and he’d handed down a pretty ferocious sentence. Honestly, he’d gone a little crazy that day, and now he finally had to admit to himself that jealousy had fueled a lot of his fury. He hadn’t been allowed to want her then, and he still wasn’t, but he was having a hell of a hard time convincing his body.

“You should try opening up to people,” Chase said. “They might surprise you.”

“Sure, like my sociology TA in college. When I told him I had dyslexia, he started speaking to me slowly, enunciating every word as if I couldn’t understand speech.”

“That was one idiot.”

“And Sarah, my girlfriend senior year. I thought I could trust her. Later we had an argument, and she called me a dumb jock.” That had ended the only relationship he’d had that showed any potential for becoming something permanent.

“Okay, two idiots.” Chase clapped Alex on the shoulder. “Michelle’s different. Give her a chance.”

“There’s nothing between us, and if there were, Kyle would hand me my ass,” Alex said. “Forget about it.”

“I can if you can.”

“Thanks for all the good words, anyway.”

“Let a few of them sink in,” Chase said.

“Sure. Good night.” Alex headed off toward his room. He didn’t have an erection to deal with any longer. He’d see how long that lasted.

…

His mother was humming…a surefire sign she was up to something. Gripping his mug in his hand, Alex swung the screen door open and joined her on the front porch. She ended the tune as soon as she spotted him and gazed out over the front yard as the morning sun began its climb to the top of the sky. The day would turn out warm but not hot enough to make the barbecue unpleasant. He settled into a rocker next to hers and sipped his coffee.

“Did you sleep well, dear?” she asked, cradling her teacup between her palms.

“Fine.”

“Good.” The tiny smile that appeared on her lips said she didn’t believe him, as did the extra energy to her rocking. She might have heard him prowling around. She didn’t have to know what had made him so restless.

She took a sip of her tea and went back to humming. An extra twinkle entered her eye. If that meant what he thought it meant, he’d better get her eye untwinkled.

“Mom, I hope you aren’t planning to play matchmaker while Michelle’s here,” he said.

“Me?” She placed a palm over her heart. All sweetness and innocence. She’d have to know he could see right through her.

“You know how you like meddling in people’s love lives.”

“I do not meddle. I fix,” she said. “And everyone I’ve helped has thanked me.”

“So far.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

Enough tiptoeing around the subject. The sun was rising higher and higher. He needed to settle this before the whole clan arrived for the barbecue and he wouldn’t be able to get his mother alone for more than a few seconds. He might as well wade right into the dangerous water.

“I don’t want you thinking anything’s going to happen between Michelle and me,” he said.

“Why would I think that?” She didn’t make eye contact.

“Because I know how your mind works. Normally, I love you for the way you care for other people. In this case, you can only cause problems.”

“Is there something I should know that you’re not telling me?” She stopped rocking and studied his face. “Something about why she left town?”

Oh, brother, was that ever a loaded question. One he wasn’t going to answer in this life and probably not in the next, either. He couldn’t tell her about finding Michelle with Phil Cavanaugh. It would mortify Michelle to think his mother knew.

“I asked her about that, and she never answered,” his mother said. “And she always found an excuse not to come back for a visit.”

“Only Michelle can explain Michelle.” And she was even less likely than he was to confide in his mother about what had happened between them.

“I missed her.”

“I’m sure she missed you, too.” Hey, wait a minute. An awful thought crept into his head. “Did you put Michelle in the cottage so she and I could spend time alone together?”

His mother didn’t answer but set her chair to rocking again.

“Did you?” he repeated.

“It’s the logical place for her.”

She had, and he’d fallen into her trap, even cancelling Michelle’s reservation at the B&B so she couldn’t escape there. Maybe if he thought back he’d discover his mother had planted that idea in his head, too.