Love In a Small Town (21 page)

"You were talking to her about this? Sarah, damn it. How could you do that? Our relationship is personal."

"Chill, Dad. After all, I have an interest in this relationship, too. I simply wanted to know what she thought about you. She really likes you, we could tell.

"Look. Logan will be back in school Wednesday, and we're due at the shop to work on the perfume. I'll talk to Lynn, real casual like, and see how bad it is. Okay?"

"I'll take help wherever I can get it, even from my wise-beyond-her-years daughter. I love you, kiddo."

Lynn surveyed the merchandise stacked high in the storeroom at Scentual Encounters without interest. She had arrived at the store early after suffering another sleepless night, intending to get right to work to forget the pain in her heart.

The emotional roller coaster she'd been on since Saturday night, thinking about David, yearning for him, had her tired and dispirited. In the hours alone, reliving the day on the boat, so many things had become clear to her.

He'd said he loved her. He hadn't been playing with her. The time spent in his company, feeling his love, made her realize life without him was not an option. She'd wronged him terribly. The words came from within her, tearing her apart.

I'm in love with him
.
He was as caught up in the passion as I was; his last thought was about protecting me. I wouldn't have cared. If he'd taken me on that boat intending to have sex, he would have remembered condoms. He said he wanted to make love to me as badly as I wanted it. I didn't believe him. What is wrong with me? Why can't I forget the past? Why do I let that old nightmare ruin everything?

Tiredly, she picked up six bottles of lilac lotion, carried them out of the storeroom, and added them to a display, not caring how they looked.

I'll never be able to make it up to him. I should find a way to see him again, but why would he want to see me after what I've put him through? I'll call and ask for another chance, if that's what it takes, but I'm afraid. What will I do if he hangs up on me?

The door to the shop opened and Logan and Sarah greeted Lynn with smiles as they entered. It was finally Wednesday, the end of Logan's suspension, so they must have come straight from school.

"How's it going at school, Sarah? Is the situation improving?"

"Since Logan drove the Jag, he's the school hero. A lot of the kids think Jim Holder is a wanksta and they're glad he has a broken nose, and Logan just has a black eye."

"Sarah's doing okay," Logan said. "Jim Holder's girl threatened to break up with him if he didn't take down every one of the posters."

"What posters?"

"Jim's usual dumb thing," Logan said, scornfully.

Sarah laughed. "This was Jim's first day back from suspension. When I got to school this morning all the lockers outside my homeroom had 'Wanted' posters stuck to them. Jim used a terrible picture of me that must have been taken with a cell phone to make a poster saying, 'Wanted: For Possession—Sarah Graham.' Nobody thought it was the least funny." Her expression clouded and became serious.

"Uh, Lynn, I need to ask you something. What happened between you and my dad? He said you two had a fight. He wouldn't say what, but it must have been bad. He looks terrible—like he hasn't slept. He's, well, I shouldn't say this because it was a private conversation." She paused, clearly torn, and continued. "He's afraid you won't ever see him again. Whatever you don't like about him, tell him. Please? Talk to him."

"Oh, Sarah. There isn't anything I don't like. The problem is with me. He wants to see me?" Could she dare to hope?

"Well, yeah. He's miserable. It's Wednesday. He's not working tonight. You should call him."

Her mood lifted. "Thanks, Sarah," she said, not bothered in the least at taking advice from a fifteen-year-old girl. "I think I will." Maybe there was a chance.
I'll be careful; take it slow so he won't turn away from me.

Feeling much better, she said, joy in her voice, "Let's get going on the perfume. Iris and honeysuckle oils came in. Let's see what you think." She led the way to the storeroom.

"Wow," Sarah said when Lynn opened the door. "You must have had a lot of deliveries this week." She referred to the boxes piled on the shelves and taking up almost all the floor space.

"Violet and I have been working to get this stuff marked and out on the floor, but I always order heavy for the fall season and we're not caught up. You'll just have to work around the mess."

Sarah took the test strips out of her backpack. "Logan and I worked on this and we decided that the Iris was the best smell, with the honeysuckle and carnation next and a smidge of rose."

"Good. Let me see what you have."

Sarah carefully removed their strips from their bag, and handed them to Lynn. "There's like six iris and two each of carnation and honeysuckle. I don't like the rose, but we have to have it because it's Shakespeare, so maybe even less than one strip."

Lynn smelled the samples, evaluating them. "This is pretty nice, Sarah. You two did well. I have a floral base with fixative that we'll use to round it out."

Lynn uncovered two bottles. "Here's the iris. What do you think?"

"What's a fixative?" Logan asked.

"Remember I said odor is molecules that spin off fragrant material into the air until the odor is exhausted?"

"Yeah. They have to be carbon-oxygen mixes or you can't smell them," Logan said.

"Some scented materials—like sandalwood or patchouli—lose molecules at a much slower pace than others. When used in a formula, they bond with some of the faster spinning molecules and hold, or fix them longer. Without fixative, some fragrances would disappear an hour after you put them on.

"So, prepare a sample of what you have, using a milliliter to represent each strip and we'll add alcohol and see what happens.

"Oh, and a warning. Don't smell any of them too long, or your nose will go. When that happens take a ten minute break outside."

"Well, okay. The iris is the main thing, only they called it a 'fleur de lis.' It was the symbol of royalty. Gillyflowers were carnations."

"You two have done a lot of research on this," Lynn said.

Logan added, "Honeysuckle was woodbine. Shakespeare wrote a sonnet about perfume, or at least, that's what I think it's about. He said that even though winter kills everything, if you've preserved the flower's essence in a bottle, you have summer in a bottle all year long. Sonnet Number Five."

"Logan, I'm impressed," Lynn said. "I'll have to look that up."

Sarah had finished adding her oils to the bottle and handed it to Lynn. "What do you think?"

"Okay. Maybe just two parts of base. It smells pretty good."

They added that and Sarah handed a strip to Logan. "What do you think?"

Logan smiled at Sarah. "Yeah, summer in a bottle."

Lynn sampled it and said, "Not bad. In fact, pretty good. We're a long way from finished, though. I'll mix it with sixteen parts alcohol and we'll let it age for a week to see what happens. For now, you're finished. What are you going to name it?"

Sarah looked at Logan. "What do you think? We could call it 'Summer in a Bottle.'"

His eyes softened as he looked at Sarah. "That's what you are to me. You're my summer in a bottle." Blushing, he ducked his head, staring at his feet, and then, hesitantly, he looked up and said, "You make the winter in my heart go away, Sarah. Let's call it 'Shakespeare's Flowers.'"

They had apparently forgotten Lynn as she watched, breathless with emotion, marveling at the tenderness shown by Logan.
I want that. My soul is in the midst of winter and I want David's love to make it come alive again. Oh, David. I was so wrong
not to trust you or myself. I'm not waiting until tonight.

Her attention turned to the pair as Sarah put the palm of her hand against Logan's cheek.

"I love you, too, Logan. I want us to be together forever. Sometimes I worry about all the things that can go wrong to separate us— like I lost my mom."

"Sarah." He put his arms around her and kissed her gently on her forehead.

Lynn had heard enough—way more than she should have. She remembered David saying he needed a woman's guidance with his daughter. As damaged as she was by her own experiences, she could never be wise enough to counsel Sarah. She'd screw it up with her own hang-ups. Despair filled her heart.

"Okay, you two. Let's finish this so we can go home."

After the sample was prepared, Lynn gave them a small amount in another bottle.

"We'll see what happens in a couple of days. This is a pretty simple formula, but it can still go wrong. If, at the end of the week, it smells good, we'll bottle it and have it ready for the science project."

They gathered up all their books and perfume paraphernalia, and prepared to leave.

"Don't forget to call Dad," Sarah reminded her, as she followed Logan out the door.

David took his dinner casserole out of the oven. Sarah had called from downtown, working on her perfume. He knew she'd be home within the hour.

Lynn weighed on his mind. Was she lonely? Sorry? He wished he knew. When he left it up to her to call him, he'd expected her to be angry for maybe a day but get back to him, ready to try again. It hadn't happened and he wondered if he'd lost her for all time.

She was his woman, damn it. If she didn't know it, he'd find a way to convince her. The past few nights, when he woke, he'd feel her beside him. If he thought hard enough, he could smell her scent and the loss would hit him like a blow to the heart.

The phone rang. He walked to the office slowly, expecting to hear from a client about a stock opportunity, but too depressed to want to speak to anyone.

"David? This is Lynn. I'm calling uh, I mean…"

"Lynn?" Relief flooded through him; hope grew. It wasn't over. Be calm—casual. "I've been worried about you. Lynn, I'm sorry for—"

"No, David. Please. Let me talk, or I'll never get through this. I was wrong not to trust you. When you pulled away from me, I believed you thought less of me because of the way I had acted. I was wrong. David, please forgive me."

"Lynn, don't put yourself through this." It broke his heart to hear her distress. "I'm so damn glad to hear your voice. I did and said some stupid things. It was all my fault. I lost control and rushed you. I wanted you so damn much, and when I thought I'd lost you, I couldn't stand it. I want back in your life." His voice shook. He realized that he had no life without her in it.

"David, please wait. I have more to say. You don't understand."

He heard her tears. His heart stopped.

"David, I think I love you, even if I'm not sure what that is. I'm trying to tell you. I'm sorry I pushed you away. Don't leave me because I'm—I mean, sometimes I'm afraid and I don't want to be, and I act stupid, because I don't know much about men, and say things I don't mean or really understand. It's the fear doing it. Can we work this out? Can you be patient with me, David? Please?"

He started to laugh; his spirit soared with joy. "Baby, we're both saying the same thing, that something between us is good. Maybe we love each other. We want each other, and we're going to be together to give whatever we have a chance. I have to see you. If I can't hold you in my arms right now, I'm going to go crazy."

"David, can you come over and see me?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm home, in the kitchen, talking to you."

"Stay there. I'm coming to you, sweetheart."

He hung up the phone, checked his pocket for truck keys, laughed while he got a handful of condoms out of his desk drawer, shoving them into his back pocket, and ran from the house.

Five minutes later, Lynn was opening her kitchen door to him.

"David," she cried, and threw her arms around him as he slammed the door with his foot.

"Oh, honey," he crooned, holding her against his painfully hard arousal, while his lips roamed over her face, kissing her frantically. "Lynn, baby. How could you think I didn't want you? I have from the first time I saw you. You're all I think about. I've never wanted any woman this way."

"Oh, David," she cried, as he loosened his hold long enough to pull her t-shirt over her head and get rid of her bra.

"Love me, David," she pleaded, shivering as the passion took hold of her. She was his. He could feel her hands gripping his shoulders so tightly her nails bit into him. His mouth found her breast, kneading it with his tongue, pulling at it like a starving babe. It wasn't close enough. How he wanted her!

Her whimpers encouraged him. He couldn't wait. Damn it, he wasn't going to wait. He was hoping to be able to satisfy both of their hungers this evening.

Through his sexual haze, he was aware that something was different about Lynn. Her hands were inside his t-shirt, pulling at it to get it over his head. Something was loose within her, wild and aggressive. This was a new Lynn, running her hands over his shoulders, pulling at him greedily.

"David," she wailed, "I need you. Make love to me right now."

"Lynn, oh, Lynn, baby, you don't have to ask. I'm yours anytime you want."

She struggled with the buttons to his jeans. The force of her passion had her hands trembling.

"Buttons," she wailed, frantically. "You have jeans with buttons? Don't normal men have zippers instead of buttons?"

Her frustration excited him beyond bearing. "No more," he promised, barely able to speak. "Every pair in the dumpster, as soon as I get home." He yanked, she pulled, and miraculously he was naked. He made quick work of her jeans, sending them flying across the room.

Grasping her buttocks to pull her closer, he reveled in the feel of her hot, naked skin against his body. Her hands sought him, grasping him firmly and guiding him to her heat.

"Lynn. Wait. You're not protected." His voice was anguished—filled with his struggle to control himself. Had he forgotten the damned condoms?
Twice? No. Damn it.
He grabbed his jeans, got a foil packet out of the pocket, and turned back to her.