Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (29 page)

The shower brewing on his way to her house had him soaked by the time he dashed past the freshly planted border and scrambled into his Corvette. Damn the rain! He slammed the car door, dragged in a lungful of intoxicating new-car chemicals and settled into what Nick laughingly referred to as his mid-life crisis. Said all he needed now was a sexy young babe in the passenger seat and he could be the poster child.

He scowled into the privacy of the darkened interior. Screw Nick. He could drive any car he wanted, even if his head did damn near hit the roof. And it wasn’t a sexy young babe he wanted to drive it with. With a shudder he dragged his palms down the thighs of wet jeans and allowed his gaze scan Allie’s house. Overhead lights went out in the living room, momentarily a rosy glow filtered through the drapes of her bedroom. He gripped the steering wheel, studied his knuckles as his palms soaked the leather wrapping before starting the engine. Big hands.

Yeah he knew what that meant.

He unwrapped his hands, turned them over to examine their palms and his eyes glazed over. His breathing became shallow, labored. His imagination took over—his fantasies—as he envisioned running his fingers through Allie’s soft curls, then along her jaw to the sensitive spot at the base of her throat. Over the curve of her shoulders and on to the valley of her waist, exploring the curve of her…

Stop already!
He dragged in a deep, ragged breath, pressed the back of his dripping head against the leather headrest and allowed the agonized groan to seep out. He couldn’t think. Could only feel in great sweeping pulses that addled his brain. With effort he sucked in steady streams of air, blew them out between gritted teeth. Okay, it was a start. His breath, his breathing, that was easier now. He stretched out his left leg, shook out his leg and adjusted his jeans. Jesus. When was the last time he sat outside a girl’s house with a fucking hard-on?

This had to stop. Sitting here, hesitant to leave, hoping for a glimpse, he was no better than a stalker. He had to back off. Back away. Put her needs before his. This, this—what exactly was it? Infatuation? Attraction?—had gone too far. He needed to keep Allie safe, and he couldn’t do that if it was him she needed protection from. With a grunt of frustration he turned the key until the engine roared to life.

Allie’s plan to plant flowers in the back yard was discarded with the wet Sunday paper. It was still raining. She spent her morning indoors—ironing clothes for the new week and checking school papers. Late in the afternoon, after the pregnant steel clouds dried out and thinned to silver ribbons, she headed to the grocery store for her weekly supplies. Her eyes wandered through the meat case, searching for inspiration. She missed the days of cooking for a family. She missed cooking for Trey. And for Jake. The packages were all too large for a family of one. Maybe Trey would come home soon. He hadn’t been home since he left for school. Hardly ever called. Was this normal? She’d have to ask someone. Morosely, she headed for the freezer section.

Allie was curled into one side of the sofa, her painted toes tucked beneath a blanket. Her microwave dinner on her lap, she picked up the remote and flipped through channels until she found a classic movie—the opening credits were still rolling. Two people, each already in a relationship, meet on an ocean liner and fall in love. At the end of their voyage they agree to separate and meet again at the top of the Empire State Building in six months. The original version, not the remake—one of her favorites.

She was on her second tissue when the phone rang. Irrationally her pulse leapt. What if it was Jake? If she promised to stay on her side of the sofa perhaps he’d come over and watch the rest of the movie with her? Tease her as he handed her a tissue?

Distracted, she answered the call.

“Allie, hi! So is it serious?”

Allie let her shoulders slump in disappointment, then shook her head and straightened in her seat. “Reese, just what I need tonight.” Reese’s casual breeziness always cheered her.

“Ha! The last time we talked you were going to call me after your doctor’s appointment. Then nothing. You going to live or what?”

Allie was late. Three months late. Since she hadn’t had sex in over three years she probably wasn’t pregnant. That left one daunting possibility—one she wasn’t ready for.

“Her office called to reschedule, but I looked up my symptoms on the internet. I’m sure it’s menopause.”

“Don’t sound so miserable; it’s a wonder what they can do with replacement hormones these days. Think about it, pregnancy won’t be an issue anymore.”

That idea had already trekked boldly through her mind and left its sticky footprints.” Before the seething misery had a chance to root she changed the subject, eager to chat about anything else—school, Halloween, the bestseller she recently finished. By the time they made plans to meet for a matinee she’d missed the end of her movie. As she said goodbye Reese was still nagging her to call the doctor.

“I promise I’ll call first thing, Mom.” She softened her chiding voice with a chuckle. “And I promise to let you know if it’s fatal.”

But the starter was acting up in the morning and it took forever to get her car going. Late for school and cranky, she dodged mud puddles on her way in the building. Her kids didn’t deserve her foul mood, though, so she shook it off and got started with a counting game. However, by the end of the day she was still unsettled. She ran her vehicle by the garage and luckily got right in.

Somewhat mollified, she wrote a check and drove her newly repaired vehicle home, windshield wipers swiping at full speed. Pride swelled inside her, coursed through her system. She’d solved her problem without running to someone else for help. She liked this feeling of independence. It was warm, energizing, encouraging.

Now if she could only get her son home for a visit.

The week was a busy one, and flew. She ran with Maddie each morning, volunteered at the library Wednesday after work. And twenty five kindergarten children tugged at her like Stretch Armstrong all day long. Her evenings were busy, also with lesson plans to review and Halloween art projects to prepare for. Trey called on Thursday, everything was going well, he’d be home the next weekend.

Allie met Reese for lunch on Saturday before the movie. Over spinach salads and raspberry tea they laughed about antics at school and their plans for the upcoming week. Allie worked at the library Tuesdays after work, and there was a committee meeting about Christmas at the women’s shelter scheduled for Wednesday evening. It promised to be another busy week. Allie dug into it with gusto.

Leaving the library Tuesday night, her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID. “Maddie, how are you?” She probably had to back out of running again.

“I’m good thanks.” Cheerful Maddie sounded harried. “But Emily, not so much. She came home from school sick today, and you know how the girls are. Once one of them gets something she’s good about sharing with the other. I expect them both to be ill tomorrow.”

“That’s too bad. Is there something I can do to help?”

“Well, no and yes.”

Allie’s eyebrows dropped at the cryptic answer. “What do you need?”

“They’ve got those tickets for Friday night. The concert, remember?”

“Oh right. I’d love to buy them from you. I’m sure I can find someone to go with me.” It was well known Maddie would rather listen to fingernails scratching the chalkboard; she was not a fan of country music.

“Oh, thanks! You’re a lifesaver. I’ll bring them with me to school tomorrow.

“Sounds great. I’ll get them from you during lunch. She hung up, drove along for a few minutes, then picked her phone back up and called Reese, wondering if she was interested in a girls’ night out.

“This Friday, Allie? Rats! One of the guys in John’s firm is retiring and there’s a dinner.” Reese seemed dismayed. “I’d much rather spend the evening with you than a bunch of stuffy tax attorneys.”

Allie laughed at her. “Right. If I didn’t know how much you loved one of those stuffy attorneys I might believe you.” Reese and John were married fourteen years now and opted out of parenthood. Reese announced—a little smugly—to anyone crass enough to question their decision that they were still on their honeymoon.

Reese sighed, a deep mocking sigh. “Truly pathetic, but true. His job may be boring, but nothing else about the man is.”

“Lalalalala, hanging up now.” Allie laughed again. She’d always liked John—he was brilliant, and a fine example of male hunkiness—but Reese never did master the fine art of censoring. “Have fun at your dinner.”

She pulled into her driveway, hit the garage door opener as she said goodbye. Who else could she call? Thumbing through a mental rolodex of possible companions as she parked in the garage and walked into the house, one name immediately popped into her head.

She quashed it just as quickly. She couldn’t call him. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t. It was getting late—too late to call anyone tonight—but tomorrow she would talk to Ginny at school. Ginny was quite a bit younger than she, but she might enjoy the concert. If Ginny couldn’t make it she could ask Marie from the library. Or maybe she should ask Blake. The thought made her chuckle.

Yeah, right!

She wasn’t chuckling Thursday afternoon as she placed a call to his office. She punched the number into her cell as she pulled her car from the school parking lot. The good doctor was with a patient so she left her number and asked to have him call. Her phone rang as she pulled up to a red light, three blocks away.

Allie laughed as she said hello. “I only called a minute ago. You’re done with your patient already?”

He laughed with her and confided, “I’ll tell you a secret… I wasn’t really with a patient. Jill, the receptionist, she’s supposed to say that to everybody who calls for me. That way I don’t get stuck with something unwanted—like a sales rep.”

“Ah, very sneaky, doctor.”

“What can I say? You now know my one vice. Other than that I’m as honest as they come.”

“I’m relieved to hear it. I have an offer for you, and I’d hate to have to worry about your moral character.” She was foolish for even calling him, but she was running out of options.

“An offer, huh? This is intriguing.” Amusement lingered in his voice. “Whatcha got, Allie?”

“I’ve got two tickets to a concert and I’m looking for company.” She named the group that would be playing. “I wondered if you might be interested.”

Instead of interested, Blake seemed embarrassed. “Wow, Allie. I’m flattered that you’d call, I am. But actually, I’m seeing someone right now; we already have plans to attend.”

Now it was Allie’s turn to be embarrassed. She pulled up to the last stoplight before her house. There was a vehicle stopped alongside her. Could the woman driving the midnight blue convertible see her discomfort? She propped her left elbow on the window ledge, hid her face with her palm. With a quick blurted apology she hurried off the phone.

She pitched her handbag onto the kitchen counter and carried her tote bag into the living room. She had papers to mark, but they could wait until later. In a while she would check the DVR, see if anything sounded good. How many nights were spent in front of the television with nothing but schoolwork to keep her company?

The walk down the hallway to her room was endless tonight. With curious trepidation she removed her school clothes, stepped into black sweatpants and a fleece sweatshirt like she was donning chain mail. After slipping her feet into fuzzy armor she headed for the kitchen. The flick of a light switch eradicated shadows in the kitchen, she poured a fortifying glass of merlot. With a steeling breath she picked up the telephone on her way outside.

She hung her booted toes over the edge of the flagstone deck, the receiver dangling from one hand, half-empty stemware clutched in the other. She closed her eyes against the blanket of stars draping the night sky. She could still change her mind, but… she missed him.

Calling may not be wise, but… she missed him. She dialed his number before she could talk herself out of it.

Jake sank onto the edge of a deck chair, nursing a cold beer. The heat was finally gone, his chest rose as he filled it with crisp fall air. He tilted his head, guzzled half the bottle, set it on the table. Work on the Cottonwood Commercial Center had been ceaseless for weeks now with one setback after another—materials, sub-contractors, weather—you name it. Nick could handle the job himself, but the investors insisted he get the job back on track personally. So emails flew continually, his phone had been glued to his ear, and his truck could practically drive the route to Cottonwood, a two hour journey, without his assistance. But the relentless babysitting paid off. After eighteen days the development was back on schedule and the investors were off his back. Mercifully, the project once again rode Nick’s broad shoulders. He’d more than proved himself as an adept project manager in the years since he finished college, even more since his brother’s death.

Easing back in the chaise, he studied the haphazard array of stars blanketing the inky sky. He could locate the most common constellations like the big and little dippers, and then the North Star. He could recite the names of others, but could never find them in the sky. Mostly he liked the stars because they reminded him of Allie’s freckles—scattered over her silken skin the way stars sprinkled across the heavens. He let his eyes drift shut, imagined being able to trace the path of each of her constellations. Imagined running his lips over each one, and giving it a name.