Truly Madly Yours (25 page)

“How’s business?” Gwen asked, immediately arousing Delaney’s suspicion. Gwen never asked about the salon.

“Pretty good.” She looked across the table and stuck the lettuce into her mouth. Her mother was up to something. She never should have agreed to meet for lunch in a restaurant where she couldn’t yell without causing a scene. “Why?” she asked.

“Helen always does the hair for the Christmas fashion show, but this year I spoke with the other members of the board, and I’ve convinced them to let you do the hair.” Gwen poked around at her fettuccini, then set her fork aside. “I thought you could use the publicity.”

More than likely it was a way for her mother to rope her into serving on some sort of dumb committee. “Just the hair? That’s it?”

Gwen reached for her hot tea with lemon. “Well, I thought you could be in the show, too.”

There it was. The real reason. Styling hair for the show was a bone. What Gwen really wanted was to parade around in matching mother-daughter lamé like they were twins. There were two rules of the fashion show, the dress or costumes had to be made by hand and had to reflect the season. “You and me together?”

“Of course I’d be there.”

“Dressed alike?”

“Similar.”

Not a chance. Delaney clearly remembered the year she’d been forced to dress as Rudolph. She might not have minded if she hadn’t been sixteen. “I couldn’t possibly be in the show and do the hair.”

“Helen does.”

“I’m not Helen.” She reached for a breadstick. “I’ll do the hair, but I want the name of my salon printed in the program and announced at both the start and finish of the show.”

Gwen looked a little less than pleased. “I’ll have someone on the board get hold of you.”

“Great. When is the show?”

“During the Winter Festival. It’s always the third Saturday, a few days before the ice sculpture contest.” She set her cup back on the saucer and sighed. “Remember when Henry was mayor and we used walk beside him and help with the judging?”

Of course she remembered. Each December businesses in Truly made huge snow sculptures in Larkspur Park, drawing tourists for hundreds of miles. Delaney remembered her frozen cheeks and nose, and her big fluffy coat and furry hat as she walked beside Henry and her mother. She remembered the crisp smell of ice and winter and the feel of hot chocolate warming her hands.

“Remember the year he let you choose the winner?”

She’d probably been twelve, and she’d chosen Quality Meats and Poultry’s fifteen-foot Lamb Chop. Delaney took another stab at her salad. She’d forgotten about Lamb Chop.

“I need to talk to you about Christmas,” Gwen said.

Delaney assumed she would spend it at her mother’s, complete with a
real
tree, shiny presents, eggnog, chestnuts roasting on an open fire. The whole bit.

“Max and I are leaving on a Caribbean cruise on the twentieth, the day after the Winter Festival starts.”

“What?” She carefully set her fork back on her plate. “I didn’t know the two of you were that serious.”

“Max and I are getting close, and he suggested a warm vacation to find out just how strongly we feel for each other.”

Gwen had been a widow for all of six months and already had a serious boyfriend. Delaney couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a serious
date
. Suddenly she felt real pathetic, like an old spinster cat lady.

“I thought you and I could celebrate Christmas when I get back.”

“Okay.” She hadn’t realized how much she might have enjoyed a Christmas at home until she no longer had the option. Well, spending the holidays alone was nothing she hadn’t done before.

“And now that it has begun to snow, you should park your little car in my garage and drive Henry’s Cadillac.”

Delaney waited to hear the conditions, like she’d have to spend the night on weekends, attend a council meeting of some sort, or wear practical pumps. When Gwen didn’t elaborate, and reached for her fork instead, Delaney asked, “What’s the catch?”

“Why are you so suspicious all the time? I just want you to be safe this winter.”

“Oh.” It had been years since she’d driven in the snow, and she found it wasn’t like riding a bike. She’d forgotten how. She’d much rather slide through stop signs in Henry’s big silver car rather than her Miata. “Thanks, I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

After lunch, she took the rest of the day off and drove to Lisa’s to drop off some books on braids and pick up her bridesmaid dress. The red stretch velvet dress was the color of wine in one light but changed to a deep burgundy in another. It was beautiful, and if it hadn’t been for Delaney’s hair, it would have looked great on her, but so many different shades of red all on one person made her look like a Picasso. She ran a hand over her stomach, smoothing the cool material beneath her palm.

“I didn’t think about your hair,” Lisa admitted as she stood back and viewed Delaney in her bedroom mirror. “Maybe you could wear one of those big straw hats.”

“Not a chance.” She tilted her head to the side and studied her reflection. “I could always go back to my natural color.”

“What is your natural color?”

“I’m not really sure anymore. When I retouch my roots, it’s sort of a warm blond.”

“Can you change it back without having your hair fall out?”

Delaney put her hands on her hips and turned to face her friend. “What is wrong with you people in this town? Of course I can remove the tint without my hair falling out. I know what I’m doing. I’ve been doing this for years.” As she spoke, the volume of her voice rose. “I’m not Helen. I don’t give bad cuts!”

“Geez, I just asked.”

“Yeah, you and everyone else.” She unzipped the back of the dress and stepped out of it.

“Who else?”

The image of Nick sitting on her couch popped into her head. His hot mouth on hers. His fingers pressed into her thigh. She wished she could hate him for making her want him, for making her tell him that she wanted him, then leaving her alone to dream about him all night. But she couldn’t hate him, and she was so confused about what happened that she didn’t want to talk about it with anyone until she figured it out. Not even with Lisa. She laid the dress on the plaid quilt covering Lisa’s bed then stepped into a pair of jeans. “Never mind. It’s not important.”

“What? Is your mother still bugging you about being a stylist?”

“No, in fact she asked me to style hair for the Christmas fashion show.” Delaney looked up from the button on her pants. “She thought she could trick me and get me to do that mother-daughter thing I had to do when I was growing up.”

Lisa laughed. “Remember that gold lamé dress with the big sash and that bow on the back?”

“How could I forget.” She pulled an angora sweater over her head then sat on the edge of the bed and shoved her feet into her Doc Marten’s. “And then my mother is going on a Caribbean cruise over Christmas with Max Harrison.”

“Your mother and Max?” Lisa sat next to Delaney. “That’s weird. I can’t picture your mother with anyone but Henry.”

“I think Max is good for her.” She tied one boot, then worked on the other. “Anyway, this is the first time I’ve been home for ten Christmases, and she leaves. That’s pretty typical, when I think about it.”

“You can come to my house. I’ll be living with Louie and Sophie, and we’ll have Christmas there.”

Delaney stood and reached for her dress. “I can just see myself breaking bread with the Allegrezzas.”

“You’ll be ‘breaking bread’ with us at my wedding dinner.”

Apprehension settled in Delaney’s stomach as she slowly put the dress on the hanger. “It’s a buffet, right?”

“No. It’s a sit-down dinner at the Lake Shore Hotel.”

“I thought the dinner was after the rehearsal.”

“No, that’s the buffet.”

“How many people will be at this dinner?”

“Seventy-five.”

Delaney relaxed. With so many guests, it would be quite easy to avoid certain members of Louie’s family. “Well, don’t seat me by Benita. She’ll probably stab me with her butter knife.” And Nick? He was so unpredictable, she couldn’t guess what he might do.

“She’s not that bad.”

“Not to you.” Delaney gathered her coat and headed outside.

“Think about Christmas,” Lisa called after her.

“Okay,” she promised just before she drove away, but there wasn’t even a remote chance she would sit across the table from Nick. What a nightmare. She’d have to spend the entire time trying not to get drawn in by him, looking anywhere but his eyes and mouth and hands.
You better not be around here on June fourth, otherwise I’m going to take what you‘ve owed me for ten years
.

She didn’t owe him anything. He’d used her to get back at Henry, and they both knew it.
Exactly when was that? When you begged me to touch you all over
? She hadn’t begged him. More like asked. And she’d been young and naive.

Delaney pulled her little car next to Nick’s Jeep and bolted up the stairs. She wasn’t prepared to see him. Each time she thought of his mouth on her breast and his hand between her thighs, her cheeks got hot. She would have had sex with him right there on her couch, no doubt about it. All he had to do was look at her and he sucked her in like a Hoover. All he had to do was touch her and she wanted to suck him like a Hoover. He had the ability to make her forget who he was. Who she was, and their past together.
I told you not to worry and that I’d take care of you, but you looked at me like I was some kind of rapist and left with Henry
. She didn’t really believe him now any more than she had the other night. He had to be lying. But why would he lie? It wasn’t like he’d been trying to sweet-talk her out of her clothes. She’d pretty much abandoned all modesty by that point.

She laid her dress on the couch and reached for Nick’s
txapel
sitting on the coffee table where she’d left it. Her fingertips traced the leather band and smooth wool. It didn’t matter now. Nothing had changed. That night at Angel Beach was old history and best left in the past. Even if it weren’t for Henry’s will, there was no future for the two of them. He was a womanizer and she was leaving just as soon as possible.

With the beret in one hand Delaney walked back outside to the parking lot. Nick’s Jeep was still there, and she opened the driver’s side door. The beige leather interior was still warm as if he’d arrived just before she’d returned to her apartment. The Jeep key was in the ignition, and his Basque cross hung from the rearview mirror. A big box of tools, an extension cord, and three jars of wood putty were tossed in the back. He’d obviously been living in Truly too long, but she supposed if she were a thief, she’d think twice about stealing from an Allegrezza. She set his beret on the leather seat, then turned and hurried back up to her apartment. She didn’t want him to have any reason to walk up her stairs. Obviously, she had no willpower where he was concerned, and it was just best to avoid him as much as possible.

Delaney sat on her couch and tried to tell herself she wasn’t listening for sounds from below. She wasn’t listening for the rattle of keys or the crunch of gravel beneath heavy boots. She wasn’t listening, but she heard his office door open and close, his keys and the scuff of boots. She heard nothing but silence when he discovered his
txapel
and she imagined him pausing to look up the stairs at her apartment. The silence drew as she listened for his footsteps. Finally, the Jeep’s engine rumbled to life and he rolled out of the parking lot below.

Delaney slowly let out a breath and closed her eyes. Now all she had to do was get through Lisa’s wedding. With seventy-five guests, she could easily ignore Nick. How hard could it be?

Until now. She’d known about the wedding dinner of course, but she hadn’t known the tables would be organized in a large open rectangle with all the guests seated on the outside so everyone could see everyone else. And she hadn’t known about the arranged seating or she would have switched her engraved placecard to avoid the nightmare she was living.

Beneath the table, something brushed the side of Delaney’s foot, and she would bet it wasn’t an amorous mouse. She pulled both feet beneath her chair and stared down at the remains of her filet mignon, wild rice, and asparagus spears. Somehow, she’d been seated on the groom’s side, sandwiched between Narcisa Hormaechea, who clearly didn’t care for her, and the man who refused to cooperate and let her ignore him any longer. The harder she tried to pretend Nick didn’t exist, the more pleasure he took in provoking her. Like
accidentally
bumping her arm and making her rice shoot off her fork.

“Did you bring your handcuffs?” he asked next to her left ear as he reached across her for a bottle of Basque Red. His tuxedo lapel brushed her bare arm.

Like an erotic movie wrapped for continuous play, visions of his hot mouth on her naked breast played in her head. She couldn’t even look at him without blushing like an embarrassed virgin, but she didn’t need to actually see him to know when he raised his wine to his lips, or when his thumb stroked the clear stem, or when he shoved his black bow tie into a pocket and removed the black stud at his throat. She didn’t have to look at him to know he wore his pleated cotton shirt and tuxedo jacket with the same casual ease he wore flannel and denim.

“Excuse me.” Narcisa touched Delaney’s shoulder, and she turned her attention to the older woman, who had two white streaks on the sides in her perfect dome of black hair. Her brows were lowered and her brown eyes were magnified behind a pair of thick octagon-shaped glasses, making her appear a little like a myopic Bride of Frankenstein. “Could you pass the butter, please?” she asked and pointed to a small bowl sitting by Nick’s knife.

Delaney reached for the butter, careful to keep any part of her from touching Nick. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something rude, crude, or socially unacceptable. He didn’t utter a word, and she immediately grew suspicious, wondering what he planned next.

“It was a beautiful wedding, don’t you think?” Narcisa asked someone further down the table. She took the bowl from Delaney, then ignored her completely.

Delaney didn’t really expect warm fuzzies from Benita’s sister and turned her gaze to the bride and groom, who were surrounded by parents and grandparents on both sides. Earlier, she’d braided Lisa’s brown hair in an inside-out coronet. She’d stuck in a few sprigs of baby’s breath, and wove in a piece of tulle. Lisa looked great in a white off-the-shoulder gown, and Louie was quite dapper in his black tails. Everyone seated near the bride and groom appeared happy, and even Benita Allegrezza smiled. Delaney didn’t think she’d ever seen the woman smile, and she was surprised at how much younger Benita looked when she wasn’t glaring. Sophie sat next to her father with her hair pulled up in a simple ponytail. Delaney would have loved to have gotten her hands and scissors on all that thick dark hair, but Sophie had insisted her grandmother fix it for her.

“When is it your turn to get married, Nick?” The booming question came from down the table.

Nick’s quiet laughter mixed with the other noise in the room. “I’m too young, Josu.”

“Too wild, you mean.”

Delaney glanced a few feet down the table. She hadn’t seen Nick’s uncle in a long time. Josu was stocky like a bull and had florid cheeks, due in part to the amount of vino he’d poured back.

“You just haven’t found the right woman, but I’m sure you’ll find a nice Basque girl,” Narcisa predicted.

“No Basque girls, Tia. You’re all too stubborn.”

“You need someone stubborn. You’re too handsome for you own good, and you need a girl who will tell you no. Someone who won’t say yes to you all the time about everything. You need a good girl.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Delaney watched Nick’s long blunt fingers brush the linen tablecloth. When he responded, his voice was smooth and sensual, “Even good girls say yes eventually.”

“You’re bad, Nick Allegrezza. My sister was too easy on you, and you’ve grown into a libertine. Your cousin Skip is always chasing skirts, too, so maybe it’s genetic.” She paused and let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, how about you?”

It was probably to much to hope that Narcisa was talking to someone else. Delaney lifted her gaze to Nick’s aunt and stared into her magnified eyes. “Me?”

“Are you married?”

Delaney shook her head.

“Why not?” she asked, then looked Delaney over as if the answer was written somewhere. “You’re attractive enough.”

Not only was Delaney sick of that particular question, she was getting really tired of being treated as if there had to be something wrong with her because she was single. She leaned toward Narcisa and said just above a whisper, “One man could never satisfy me. I need lots.”

“You’re kidding?”

Delaney choked back her laughter. “Don’t tell anyone because I do have my standards.”

Narcisa blinked twice. “What?”

She put her mouth even closer to Narcisa’s ear. “Well, he has to have teeth, for one.”

The older woman leaned back to get a good look at Delaney, and her mouth fell open. “My lord.”

Delaney smiled and raised her glass to her lips. She hoped she’d scared Narcisa off the subject of marriage for a while.

Nick nudged her arm with his elbow and her wine sloshed. “Have you found any more notes since Halloween?”

She lowered her glass and wiped a bead of wine from the corner of her mouth. She shook her head, doing her best to ignore him as much as possible.

“Did you part your hair with a lightening bolt?” Nick asked loud enough for those around them to hear.

Before the wedding, she’d done a zig-zag part, pulled the flat bangs behind her ears, and teased the crown into a nice little bouffant. With her hair back to blonde, she thought she looked like a 60’s go-go dancer. Delaney lifted her gaze up the pleats of his cotton shirt, to the exposed hollow of his tan throat. No way was she going to get sucked in by his eyes. “I like it.”

“You dyed it again.”

“I dyed it back.” Unable to resist, she raised her gaze past his chin to his lips. “I’m a natural blond.”

The corners of his sensuous mouth curved upward. “I remember that about you, wild thing,” he said, then picked up his spoon and tapped it on the edge of his glass. When the room fell silent, he rose to his feet, looking like a model out of one of those bride magazines. “As my brother’s best man, it is my duty and honor to toast him and his new bride,” he began. “When my big brother sees something he wants, he always goes after it with unyielding determination. The first time he met Lisa Collins, he knew he wanted her in his life. She didn’t know it then, but she didn’t stand a chance against his tenacity. I watched him proceed with an absolute certainty that left me bewildered and, I admit, envious.

“As always, I am in awe of my brother. He has found real joy with a wonderful woman, and I am happy for him.” He reached for his glass. “To Louie and Lisa Allegrezza.
Ongi-etorri
, Lisa. Welcome.”

“To Louie and Lisa,” Delaney toasted with the other guests. She cast a glance upward and watched Nick tip back his head and drain his wine. Then he sat once again, relaxed and easy with his hands in the pockets of his wool pants. He pressed his leg against the length of hers, as if it were as unintentional as breathing. She knew better.

“
Ongi-etorri
,” Josu echoed, then unleashed a Basque yell that started out like mocking laughter but quickly changed into a cross between the ooh of a wolf’s howl and the expiring ahh of a braying donkey. Other male relatives joined Josu and the dining room reverberated with the sounds. While each family member tried to outdo the other, Nick leaned in front of Delaney and grabbed her glass. He filled it and then his own, in typical Nick style: he didn’t ask first. For one brief moment, he enveloped her in the smell of his skin and cologne. Her heart beat a little faster and her head got a little lighter as she breathed him in. Then he was gone and she could almost relax again.

Lisa’s father hit his spoon against his glass and the room fell silent. “Today my little girl...” he began, and Delaney shoved her plate away and folded her arms on the table. If she concentrated on Mr. Collins, she could almost ignore Nick. If she concentrated on Mr. Collins’s hair, which was a lot whiter than she remembered, and his—

Nick lightly brushed his fingers over the top of her thigh, and she froze. Through the sheer barrier of nylon, his fingertips swept her from knee to the hem of her dress. Unfortunately, it was a short dress.

Delaney grabbed his wrist beneath the table and stopped his hand from sliding up the inside of her thigh. She looked into his face, but he wasn’t looking back at her. His attention was focused on Lisa’s father.

“... to my daughter and my new son, Louie,” Mr. Collins finished.

With his free hand, Nick raised his wine glass and toasted the couple. As he took two big swallows, his thumb stroked the top of Delaney’s leg. Back and forth his fingers caressed over the smooth nylon. Sensation she couldn’t ignore settled low in her abdomen and she squeezed her legs together. “Aren’t you going to toast the happy couple?” he asked.

As carefully as possible, she shoved his hand, but his grasp tightened. She pushed a little harder and accidentally bumped Nick’s aunt.

“What’s that matter?” Narcisa asked. “Why are you wiggling around?”

Because your libertine nephew is inching his hand up my thigh
. “No reason.”

Nick leaned toward her and whispered, “Be still or people will think I’m copping a feel under the table.”

“You are!”

“I know.” He smiled and turned his attention to his uncle. “Josu, how many sheep are you running this year?”

“Twenty thousand. Are you interested in working for me like when you were a boy?”

“Hell no.” He slanted her a look from the corner of his eye and chuckled deep in his chest. “I have my hands full right here.” His hot palm warmed her flesh through her pantyhose, and Delaney sat perfectly still, trying to appear as if the heat from Nick’s hand wasn’t pouring through her body like a warm flood. It swept up her chest and down her thighs, tingling her breasts and pooling desire between her legs. Her grasp on his wrist tightened, but she was no longer sure if she was holding his hand to keep it from moving further up her leg, or to keep it from moving away.

“Nick.”

He tilted his head toward hers. “Yes?”

“Let go.” She pasted a smile on her face like she and Nick were chatting up a good time, and let her gaze skim the crowd. “Someone could see you.”

“Tablecloth is too long. I checked.”

“How did I end up sitting next to you anyway?”

He reached for his wine and said behind the glass, “I switched your little name card with my Aunt Angeles’s. She’s the mean looking lady sitting over there clutching her purse like someone’s going to mug her. She’s a Rottweiler.” He took a drink. “You’re more fun.”

Angeles stuck out like a storm cloud on an otherwise sunny day. Her hair was scraped up into a black bun, and her scowl lowered her dark brows. She obviously didn’t like being stuck among Lisa’s family. Delaney moved her gaze down the table, past the bride and groom to Nick’s mother. Benita’s dark eyes stared back at her, and Delaney recognized the look that used to unnerve her as a child. “I know you’re up to no good,” it said.

Delaney turned to Nick and whispered, “You have to stop. Your mother is watching us. I think she knows.”

He looked into her face, then gazed past her to his mother. “What does she know?”

“She’s giving me the evil eye. She knows where you’ve got your hand.” Delaney glanced over her shoulder at Narcisa, but the older woman had turned and was talking to someone else. No one but Benita seemed to be paying any attention to them.