Someone Like You (7 page)

She could tell he didn't want to believe her.

“I would have remembered,” he said.

“Apparently not. And all this time I've wondered what you thought of me and that night. I can't believe you don't remember it.”

He took her hands in his. He had big hands, with long, thick fingers. Wasn't that supposed to mean something?

“I'm sorry,” he said as he looked into her eyes. “I can't tell you how sorry. And speaking for the twenty-two-year-old I was back then, I'm damned disappointed to have missed the opportunity to take advantage of your gorgeous, naked self.”

She smiled. “I was determined we were going to make love.”

“I wouldn't have said no. Except for how I would have felt about your father.”

“He actually never wanted to do it with you.”

Mac grinned. “Thanks. That's not what I meant.”

“I know. He was there for you and you wouldn't have wanted to repay him by deflowering his daughter.”

“Exactly. But I might have worked past the guilt.” His humor faded. “Are you okay? Are you really scarred?”

“I got over it.”

“I'm sorry, Jill. It wasn't about you. Like I said, I was partying pretty hard.”

“I know. It's fine.”

She liked how her hands felt in his and the way he brushed his thumbs against her skin. She liked the regret in his expression and how the night was so quiet and they felt like the only two people in the world. She especially liked the heat in his eyes and the way he seemed to be moving closer. She swayed toward him.

“Want to consider a rain check?” he asked, his voice low and tempting, just before he kissed her.

Jill didn't have an answer, which was just as well,
be cause the second his mouth brushed hers all brain power ceased. There was only the moment and the man and the magic of what he did to her.

He teased her with just the right amount of pressure. No wimpy almost-kiss, no plunging right for her tonsils. Instead he moved back and forth, discovering, teasing, withholding just enough to make her want more be fore he offered it.

He smelled delicious and radiated enough heat to make her want to throw herself into his arms. One strong hand cupped her face, the other got buried in her hair. She sent up a brief prayer of thanks that she'd left it loose for the evening, then put her hands on his shoulders and gave into sensation.

Their lips clung. Instinctively she tilted her head. He touched the tip of his tongue to her bottom lip and sent shivers rippling through her body. She parted for him, both aroused and amazed that this was really happening. Her kissing Mac? Was it all a dream?

It had to be, when reality was him slipping inside, stroking her lower lip before deepening the kiss. Desire quickened her blood and made her breasts ache. She squeezed his shoulders, feeling the thick muscles tense under her touch.

He pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against hers. She opened her eyes and found him watching her. He was so close, he was almost blurry, but she didn't want to pull back. Not ever.

“You kiss like you mean it,” he murmured. “You're the kind of woman my mom always warned me about. Sexy and dangerous.”

It was a good thing that all her blood had rushed to her lower body to keep her grounded. Otherwise she would have floated away.

“You're pretty tempting, yourself.”

“So what would have happened all those years ago, if I'd had the good sense not to get plowed at the party?”

“You tell me. I was doing the offering. Would you have accepted?”

He chuckled. “In a heartbeat. Even though your dad would have killed us both.”

She'd never gotten past the humiliation of the moment to think how her entire life might have been different if Mac had made love with her. Based on his gentle but erotic kiss, she had a feeling the experience would have changed her forever. She would never have gotten involved with Evan, and without him, she wouldn't have been interested in the rat bastard lying weasel dog who was Lyle.

“I guess we'll never know how that one night could have changed things,” she said regretfully.

He kissed her again, then stood and held out his hand. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

“Now for the mature portion of the evening,” he said, still holding on to her fingers. “I have an eight-year-old daughter upstairs.”

“Right. And I'm recovering from an ugly breakup, not to mention only passing through town.” She smiled at him. “Plus there's that close personal relationship you have with my father.”

“Hell of a way to repay him. Even if you are all grown up, he wouldn't appreciate me making a move on you.”

“I know.” So they were attracted to each other. So the kissing was spectacular. There were complications.

She wanted to say they were both adults who could work it out. Even more than that, she wanted to revel in the fact that she could actually believe Mac wanted her. Was that cool or what?

“I guess I should get home,” she said.

“Thanks for bringing me dinner.”

“No problem.”

He walked her to the door where he cupped her face and kissed her so exquisitely her toes curled.

“See you soon,” he murmured.

She floated home, carried along by the promise in his words.

J
ILL FINISHED UP
the filing Tina had left from the day be fore. She had a feeling that Tina might never find time for filing. Currently her assistant/secretary/receptionist had taken off to drive one of her children to a playdate. Then there were errands to run, but Tina had said she would return later in the morning. Jill wasn't holding her breath.

Had the situation been different, she would have replaced Tina and found someone interested in working at least some of the day. But what was the point in going through the trouble? Sixteen résumés were currently zooming through the U.S. mail, on their way to various law firms around the state. She'd made four calls that morning to network with fellow Stanford Law School grads and start putting out the word that she was looking. Interestingly enough, no one was shocked that Lyle had turned out to be a weasel bastard. Had she been the only one not to see the truth?

“I see it now,” she told herself as she closed the file cabinet in the reception area and returned to her office. As Tina was gone and might or might not return and Jill had a ten-o'clock appointment, she was careful to keep her door open so she would hear her client.

Besides, nothing about Lyle could upset her good
mood. Not after last night. She grinned as she remembered the kiss and Mac's attraction to her. After what she'd been through, knowing he found her sexually appealing was more invigorating than sixteen hours at a day spa. She found herself humming “I Feel Pretty” under her breath, which was both embarrassing and fun. To think that Mac had been interested in her all those years ago, despite her lack of breasts, put a whole new light on her world.

“Okay, time to get serious,” she told herself as she pulled out a blank legal pad. “Time to think about work and not sex or Mac.

But honestly, weren't they one and the same? And wasn't it amazing that kissing Mac had been way more exciting than kissing any other guy she could remember?

She glanced at the clock and saw Pam Whitefield was due any second. Talk about a blast from the past. Pam Whitefield—or Pam Baughman as she'd been before her marriage and subsequent divorce—was three years older than Jill and her best friend Gracie. Three years older and light-years ahead of them in experience; at least, she had been back in high school.

Pam had been one of those golden girls—beautiful, built and popular. She'd wanted to go places and do things, and she was interested in any guy who could take her there.

Her junior year of high school she'd decided that guy was Riley Whitefield—local bad boy with a rich uncle. Pam had seen the potential, if not in Riley him self, in his future inheritance. At least that had been Jill and
Gracie's theory. Gracie had loved Riley even more than Jill had loved Mac.

Ah, those times had been bittersweet, Jill thought. Two fourteen-year-old girls in love with older guys who wouldn't give them the time of day.

The sound of a door opening snapped Jill's attention back to the present. She braced herself to see Pam again—the woman never known for her gentle and loving spirit—and stood.

“In here,” Jill called.

Pam Whitefield strolled through the reception area and entered Jill's office. Still the golden girl, Jill thought, taking in the perfectly coiffed gold-blond hair, the wide green eyes and the honey-colored tan. Pam wore a tailored suit that looked as expensive as the one Jill had on. Her perfect makeup emphasized her perfect features, which made Jill want to spit.

She reminded herself that people change—maybe Pam wasn't a bitch anymore. She deserved a second chance…didn't she?

“Jill!” Pam sounded delighted as she crossed the hardwood floor and shook hands. “How lovely to see you. And that suit. You look fabulous.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Pam did a quick hair flip as she settled into the leather chair next to the fishing net. “I work to keep it all together. Some days it's a real trial.”

Jill resumed her seat. “I don't believe you for a second. How are you?”

“Doing great. I've made some investments that have paid off well.”

“Good for you.”

Jill glanced at the other woman's left hand, searching for a ring. Pam and Riley hadn't lasted a year, just as Gracie had predicted. He'd left town, never to be heard from again, and Pam had stayed.

“So, what can I help you with?” she asked, not wanting to do the second half of the “how are things after all this time” exchange. What was she supposed to say to
that
question?

Pam sighed. “I'm having some difficulty with property I recently purchased and I want to sue the owner and her real estate agent for misrepresentation.”

Jill picked up a pen. “What's the problem?”

Pam's mouth thinned into a straight line. “I bought the old Engel place. Do you remember it?”

“Sure. Big house up on the bluff. Great views. It was a little run-down when I was a kid.”

“It's worse now. I got a decent price, but I paid more than it's worth based on its reputation.”

Jill blinked. Reputation? She'd always thought the old house was butt ugly, but she didn't think that's what Pam meant.

She raised her eyebrows. “Can you explain?”

Pam sighed. “It's supposed to be an alien landing site.”

“Oh, right. Sure. When we were kids we would dare each other to run up and knock on the door. Visitors from Mars or wherever were supposed to live inside and if they answered, they kidnapped you or something.” She had the most amazing thought. “You didn't really think the place
had
aliens, did you?”

“I thought it had something. Everybody talks about it all the time. The owner even mentioned it in the sales brochure.” She took out a cigarette and lit it. “The thing is, alien landing sites are very popular with tourists. I was going to open a bed-and-breakfast, but if it's not visited by aliens, it's just one more junky old house that needs refurbishing.”

Oh, great, Jill thought. Just what she needed.
X-Files
law. This conversation made the hundred-year-old stone fence complaint seem almost reasonable.

“Are you telling me you paid more than market value for an old house based on the fact that you thought it was inhabited by aliens?” she asked, trying to sound calm instead of incredulous.

“Yes, and now I've found out there aren't any, and I want my money back.”

“Okay, I'm not sure what sort of precedent there is for this kind of problem. I'll need to do some research. Also, do you still have the sales material? If the previous owner actually claimed the house had aliens, that will strengthen our case.”

“I'll get you the information this week.”

“Great.” Jill outlined her hourly fee. “I'll need a five-thousand-dollar retainer.”

She didn't usually ask for so much, but honestly, she was hoping to scare Pam off. It didn't work.

As she got her checkbook out of her purse, she flicked ash into a dish Jill wasn't sure was supposed to be an ashtray.

“This must be a real change for you,” Pam said. She wrote out the check, then signed it.

“I'll admit I've never dealt with the problem of lack of aliens before.”

“I didn't mean just that,” Pam said, handing over the retainer. “I meant being back here.” She stood, then glanced around the room. “What a nightmare. I never expected to see you back in Los Lobos. Everyone thought you were going to make something of yourself. I guess we were wrong.”

She walked toward the door and waved. “I'll wait to hear from you.”

Jill was too stunned by the insult to speak. So much for Pam having changed. The thought of the woman stuck with a ratty old house she couldn't use or sell eased some of the sting of Pam's parting shot. Of course, Jill was a good enough attorney that the odds of her having to keep the house were slim. Oh, well. She would take whatever bits of happiness she could find.

She ignored Pam's brief conversation with a recently returned Tina, not wanting to hear any other comments about her having a stick up her butt, and was surprised when Tina came in as soon as Pam left.

“You had a delivery,” she said eagerly. “It's a beautiful plant, and Annie from What's in Bloom said it was from Gracie Landon. Is it really? Our own Gracie?”

“I guess,” Jill said as she rose, not sure who “our Gracie” was. “We're still friends.”

Tina, dressed in khakis and a tucked-in T-shirt, pressed both hands to her chest.

“I know I'm a few years older than you two girls,
but I just love that Gracie. She's a legend. People still talk about her and what she did to get her man.”

Jill winced. Gracie would not be pleased to know her teenaged exploits in the name of claiming the love of Riley Whitefield lived on.

“She was pretty young,” Jill said as she walked into the reception area and saw a beautiful tree with flowering things tucked in around it.

“It's a miniature ficus,” Tina said. “The flowers in front are cut. They'll die soon, but the tree could last for years. There's a card.”

She handed over the envelope, then waited expectantly. Jill felt obligated to read the note wishing her luck aloud.

“Imagine. Gracie Landon.” Tina touched the leaves and smiled. “Remember the time Riley and Pam went parking up on the bluff and Gracie followed them on her bike and dumped a bag of crickets into the car?”

Jill remembered the incident all too well. While she'd had a massive crush on Mac, she'd been content to love him from afar. Not so Gracie. At fourteen she'd been stubborn about Riley being hers, and bitter about him dating Pam Baughman. She'd come up with scheme after scheme to separate the two, most of which Jill had quietly participated in.

There had been the crickets in the car, the potato in his tailpipe to keep him from being able to pick up Pam. Once Gracie had nailed all of Pam's doors and windows shut, trapping the teenager in her house so she couldn't make a date. Gracie had put itching powder in Riley's shorts the night of spring formal and had even
thrown herself in front of his car and begged him to just kill her if he was going to keep dating Pam.

Gracie had declared to all who would listen that Pam didn't care about Riley at all—that she was just dating him because one day he would inherit old man White field's fortune. No one had paid attention. Jill supposed that their divorce less than five months after the wed ding had been a form of vindication, but for Gracie, the news had come too late. Heartbroken by what she'd seen as Riley's ultimate betrayal, she'd moved in with some relatives and had never returned to Los Lobos.

“Gracie's amazing,” Tina said. “You haven't loved until you've loved like Gracie.”

“In many quarters what she did would be considered stalking.”

Tina looked shocked. “No. She was just a kid in love with a boy who didn't notice her. But she had a big heart and she loved with every inch of it. I admire that. So do most folks in town.”

“I'll be sure to mention it,” Jill said wryly. “She'll be thrilled.”

“Are you going to call her right now?” Tina asked excitedly. “Oh, tell her hi from me. I'm sure she won't re member me, but I sure remember her. Gracie Landon. She sure knew how to love a man.”

Jill picked up her miniature ficus tree and carried it into her office. The fish watched suspiciously as she set it on a small table by the window, then crossed to her desk and grabbed the phone.

“I'm calling to say thanks,” she said when her friend answered.

“I know you have the black thumb of death,” Gracie said with a chuckle, “but even you should be able to keep a ficus alive.”

“I hope so. It was sweet of you to think of me.”

“Are you kidding?” Gracie asked. “You're back in Los Lobos. You have my deep sympathy.”

“How about instead of sympathy you come visit me? I could cry on your shoulder.”

“Are things that bad?”

Jill glanced at the fish, then at the files on her desk. “It could be worse.”

“Yeah, I could be there with you. Which is never going to happen. I have vowed not to return there ever. No matter what.”

“So had I, and look what happened to me.”

“Good point.” Gracie sighed. “Seriously, how are you holding up?”

“I'm fine. There have been some interesting law cases. Guess who came in this morning?”

“I'm not sure I want to.”

“Pam Whitefield.”

Gracie laughed. “My first instinct is to say ‘that bitch,' which tells me I may have some unresolved issues.”

“That would be my vote. She's still snarky.”

“But single, right? My heart beats faster knowing no one wants to marry her.”

Jill laughed. “Yes. Still single. There's something
else. It seems your reputation hasn't died the death you would have liked.”

Gracie groaned. “No. Don't tell me that. It's one of the reasons I've stayed away and convinced my entire family that it's really fun to come visit me in L.A. for the holidays.”

“Yup, Tina, my assistant, just did five minutes on the Gracie legend. About how you haven't loved until…”

“Please be kidding.”

Jill shook her head. “Sorry. I think this is bigger than both of you.”

“I can't believe it. When I think about what I did to that poor guy. Riley must get hives every time he re members me.”

“I'm sure he's recovered.”

Jill picked up a pen and turned it over. Should she tell Gracie what had happened with Mac? They didn't have many secrets from each other, but she wasn't sure about spilling something so intimate with Tina in the next room.

“I'll give you a call in a couple of days,” she said in stead.

“Please do. I'm knee-deep in wedding season. There are cakes everywhere.”

Gracie had become a specialty baker whose wedding cakes were in high demand by the rich and famous of Los Angeles.