“Well, enough about work. Tell me about yourself, Lila.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m interested in getting to know you.”
“Pretty much what you see is what you get,” she said, softly.
“I know there’s more.”
“What else do you know?”
“I know that your temper gets the best of you sometimes and you say things you normally wouldn’t. I know that you bake when you are scared and that’s probably why everyone on our floor took home a basket of cookies this afternoon.”
“Is that all?” she asked, leaning forward. Her sweater hugged the curves of her cleavage. Nick stared at the creamy globes of her breasts and remembered the feel of her nipple in his mouth. Remembered the way it had hardened as he’d suckled. His mouth watered.
“I also know the sound you make when I’m buried deep inside you. And I’d give ten years off my life to hear that sound again.”
Lila could think of nothing but Nick’s words to her in the restaurant. For once the music of Gershwin didn’t sweep into her soul and take her away from her mundane life. For once the thought of her peers seeing her out with her boss didn’t bother her. For once she could only focus on the man next to her and whether she’d invite him in when they got home.
His voice, low and husky, brushed over her senses as he leaned closer and whispered something in her ear. She couldn’t make out the words. His scent surrounded her and she closed her eyes for a moment, wanting this night to live forever in her memory.
She’d never flown by emotion before. Never given in to the urges that were now sweeping through her. The same urges that had led her to make love with him on his desk.
Wake up, Lila.
But she knew she wasn’t dreaming. He was at once better than she’d dreamed he’d be and at the same time worse. Better because reality was warm skin and electric tingles, soft whispers and light, teasing kisses. Worse because he wasn’t interested in the long-term the way she’d dreamed he would be. The way she needed him to be if she were pregnant with his child.
The orchestra played “Someone to Watch Over Me.” Lila felt the tears sting the backs of her eyes. She was transported back to her girlhood living room, to the battered Salvation Army couch and faded orange shag rug. Her mother holding her close and singing that bittersweet song along with an old Lena Horne recording. Her mother’s voice wept with a longing that had always made Lila want to hide from the night.
Tonight the words seemed a warning, a reminder that love is blind. That what she felt for Nick was more like blind lust than love. She was throwing away her reputation for a man who was only looking for what she could give him in the darkest hours of the night.
Oh, God.
She searched through her purse for a tissue and found a snowy white handkerchief being handed to her instead. She felt trapped, like a vinyl record that had a skip in it and kept playing the same few bars of a song.
Was she doomed to be the same woman her mother was? She didn’t look at Nick, just nodded her thanks and wiped her eyes. Exposed and vulnerable, she turned away from him and forced herself to the present.
The house lights came up and everyone filed out of the auditorium. But Lila didn’t move. Her mind and body still hummed with the music she’d just heard. And, though it had brought her to tears, it had also enervated her body.
Also, she was honest enough to admit, she wasn’t ready to get into that car again with Nick. His intimate, leather-smelling sports car that made her think of hot sex and steamy winter nights.
“Ready?” he asked at last. Most of the audience was gone by this time and Lila knew she was inviting the speculation that she’d always avoided.
“Yes.” She started to hand back his handkerchief but decided she should probably wash it first. She slid it into her purse and followed him out into the night.
A harvest moon lit the evening sky and few stars could be seen in its bright glare. The air was cool and crisp but not unpleasantly so as Lila put her head back and looked up at the stars. She realized how small she was in the world.
She touched her stomach thinking of the child that could possibly be inside her. Nick’s hand rested on top of hers. She looked up into his eyes and saw that something had changed since they’d entered the theater. She didn’t understand it but there was no longer just lust in his eyes. Now there was something that looked more permanent. But Lila didn’t trust herself enough to pursue it.
“I want to promise to watch over you,” he said, so softly she barely caught the words. His earnest longing closed the back of her throat.
“But you can’t,” she said.
He pulled her close to him, holding her against that broad, strong chest of his that could protect her from any earthly threat, but not from the one thing that would hurt the most. Nick Camden.
Nick clasped her hand in his. “Let’s walk down by the lake. There’s a nice view.”
Too tired and drained from the evening of Gershwin and feeling like she was in a fish bowl, Lila let him get away with changing the subject. “Really?”
“Yes. And a comfortable bench.”
Trying for a lightness she didn’t feel, she said, “You know, in Florida we have lakes all over the place. But Lake Michigan…it’s so grand.”
He smiled at her. “I learned to ski on that lake.”
He never talked of his childhood, she realized. Except for that moment when he’d mentioned the war zone that his parents’ marriage had been. “Who taught you?”
They walked in the dappled light provided by the trees. “Buster McKee’s dad.”
“Was Buster your friend?”
“Kind of. His dad was really great.”
“Why?” she asked.
“He always had time for me. I mean I was a stubborn kid. I’d decided early on that I was the only one I could depend on.”
“But he took the time for you?”
“Yeah, he did.” Nick brushed his fingers through her hair and turned her face to his.
His eyes were half-closed, and she couldn’t read anything in his gaze, but she wanted to. She wanted to know what he was feeling. To ascertain she wasn’t the only one out of control.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
She leaned closer and stood on her tiptoes.
“I take it you don’t mind.”
She smiled up at him. A kiss was just what she needed to end this evening. Because she knew that she wasn’t going to ever have the opportunity to date Nick Camden again. She’d made a mistake thinking they could forget about that incredible sexual encounter they’d had. Made a mistake thinking that they could just continue on their merry way as if the world hadn’t changed.
Because it had and it would never be the same between them again.
She kissed him. But in her heart she knew it was goodbye.
Five
Ah, hell, Nick thought. Lila’s mouth under his was the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. Brushing his lips back and forth over hers only, he teased the both of them.
Hot breath was exchanged, and Nick swore to himself as he felt himself harden. Lila’s hands held his head, as though she’d never let him go. He put his thoughts on hold and let his hormones take control.
Nick deepened the kiss. The inside of her mouth was warm and welcoming the way her body had been when they’d made love. He wanted to make love to her again. That night had been the last sane moment in his life. And it had been so far from normal that it shouldn’t have been.
He thrust his tongue deep inside her and for the moment tried to quench a thirst that couldn’t be quenched. Her tongue brushed against his, not shyly but like that of a woman who knew what she wanted. And what she wanted was within her grasp.
Nick slid his hands inside her coat and down her back, cupping her behind. He pulled her closer to his aching body. She moaned deep in her throat. Damn, he’d started something he couldn’t finish here.
He wished they were at his place, on
his big king-size bed where he could spread Lila out and take his time loving her. Because that was what they both needed. Especially him.
A cool breeze blew across the lake. Lila shivered in his arms and he pulled her closer. Lifting his mouth from hers he pushed her head against his chest and looked out over the vast expanse of water. It was a cold, lonely night, and having Lila in his arms should have assuaged those feelings, but it didn’t. It sharpened them. He felt much the same as he had in his early twenties when he’d married Amelia and then learned she was sick. He’d had a glimpse of something he’d always longed for and then it was snatched away.
It wasn’t that he was a cynic, he thought. He was a realist. He was meant to live alone.
Alone, he repeated to himself.
Why then did this one woman feel so right in his arms? Why then did her scent seem embedded in his soul? Why then did his body only feel alive when she was pressed intimately to him?
He breathed through his mouth, preparing to let go of her. For good.
“Let’s get you home, Florida girl,” he said, his voice sounding raspy to his own ears.
His erection still throbbed and for a minute he tried to figure out a way to make love in his two-seater sports car. The logistics wouldn’t be bad if he was still a teenager, but he was a grown man. A responsible man…a horny man.
Damn.
“Mine or yours?” she asked.
Unable to believe she’d said the words he’d wanted to hear, it took a moment to respond. As much as he longed to spend the night in her bed he knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t the type of guy who carried condoms around. Though he’d dated a lot, he preferred planned seduction. But with Lila, there was no thought involved. Maybe he should start. He gave a harsh laugh, wishing for a moment that he could stop letting a certain part of his anatomy do his thinking. “Yours, and then I’ll go home to mine.”
“Why? Despite my reaction to the song, Nick, I don’t want you to watch over me. I’m a big girl, I can make my own decisions.”
“I wasn’t trying to watch over you.”
“Yes, you were.”
“The last time I stuck my tongue in your mouth we made love on my desk, Lila. Give me a little credit for trying to do the right thing.”
“A little credit, that’s all you want?”
“Hell, no. I want you on my bed, spread in front of me like a feast so that I don’t have to rush. I want to savor every inch of you.”
“Then come home with me,” she said.
He’d never had a harder time saying no. He shook his head.
“Face of the enemy and all that. Give me a break, Nick. This has to mean more than physical pleasure.”
He hated that she kept throwing those words back at him. Especially when he was doing the noble thing here.
“Nah, I’m just—” looking to get laid, but he couldn’t say that to her. Because he was afraid she’d hear the truth behind the words. What he really was, was needy. And she was the one thing he needed.
“Just what?”
Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone?
“Nick?”
“Cut me some slack here, Lila.”
“I wish it were that simple. But you make me feel things so extremely that I can’t help myself.”
“What can’t you help?”
“Wanting you to be as vulnerable as I am.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“All you want from me is sex.”
“I wouldn’t have stopped if that were true.”
“Dammit, Nick. What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know.” He wished he could say all he wanted was a night of their hot bodies writhing on his bed. That was something he could label and feel safely. But the emotions that Lila brought to the surface were neither safe nor easily labeled.
She said nothing. Just wrapped her own arms around her waist, protecting herself from the hurt he seemed to wield like a sword. It proved what he’d known all along. He brought destruction to those who cared for him. First his parents’ marriage, then Amelia’s life. He wasn’t about to add Lila to the list.
Mrs. Charlotte Tooney had married her childhood sweetheart and spent twenty happy years with him until one day he’d had a heart attack at work, leaving her alone for the first time in her life. She had original artwork on the walls of her apartment and an electric organ on which she sometimes played Al Martino songs.
Lila admired the woman’s resilience in the face of the fact that she’d spent the last twenty years essentially alone. She had no children but had a happy, fulfilled life. Lila wanted that.
But at the same time she’d put off taking a pregnancy test so that she wouldn’t have to confront the fact that she might not be pregnant with Nick’s child.
“Did you try that recipe I gave you for jalapeño bread?” Charlotte asked, interrupting Lila’s thought.
Charlotte spent a lot of time watching TV cooking shows and jotting down recipes for Lila to try. And honestly, most of them were good. “Not yet. It was a cookie night last night.”
The small apartments for the elderly at the nursing house shared an open common area. Lila had met Charlotte and her best friend, Myrtle, her first week in Indiana when she’d brought books to donate to the home’s small library and had struck up a conversation with the two women.
To Lila, Charlotte and Myrtle were the grandmothers she’d never had.
“Tell me about Gershwin. Did you take Myrtle with you?” Charlotte asked.
“No, she didn’t,” said Myrtle Frye, who had entered the apartment without knocking.
“Who’d you take?” Charlotte asked.
“Charlotte, that’s none of our business.”
“Yes, it is. Was it a man?”
“Yes. But it’s not what you think,” Lila said. Unless what you’re thinking is that I made mad, passionate love with him that one night and then found out the last thing he wants in his life is a wife and child.
“The concert was good. I had a nice time.” Lila glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall. “I’ve got to get going. Enjoy the cookies.”
“We will, sweetie.”
“Are you taking some to that man?” Myrtle asked.
“What man?”
“The one who got to go to our concert,” Charlotte said.
“No,” she said. She wasn’t sure what to do about Nick, but she knew that bringing him cookies wasn’t the right thing. She’d been thinking more about their relationship as she’d baked. He’d seemed so raw in the Colette, Inc. parking lot. Not in command the way he usually was.
She put on her coat and headed for the door. “Bye, ladies.”
“Bye, Lila.”
There was a bus stop at the bottom of the hill. Though Lila had driven her car from Florida to Indiana when she’d moved, she hardly ever used it. Especially not in the fall and winter. She really hated driving.
Standing in the sun, waiting for the bus, she realized two things. If she was pregnant, she wanted to share the upbringing of that child with a spouse. And the only person she could picture as her spouse was Nick. So that meant she’d have to hold her temper and convince him that love existed. That the face on the pillow next to his in the morning wasn’t an enemy’s but an ally’s.
But how?
Before she could do that she needed to face the truth herself. She needed to get a pregnancy test and see if she was going to be a mom.
“Lila?”
She turned to see Nick standing behind her. He wore a pair of tight faded jeans and a cable-knit sweater that should have made him look like any other man on a Saturday. But he didn’t. He looked big and strong and like the man whose voice had just made her heart skip a beat.
“What are you doing here?”
“Visiting Mr. McKee.”
“The guy who taught you to water-ski?” she asked.
“Yeah, Buster lives in Hawaii.”
“That’s nice.” It was something she’d never have sus
pected Nick of doing. He was solitary by nature. He kept boundaries between himself and those around him. Mr. McKee must have had a deep impact on his life.
It made her realize what kind of father he’d be. Because the type of person who’d spend a Saturday with the elderly was the kind of guy who could make a commitment.
He shrugged. “What were you doing?”
“Dropping off some cookies,” she said.
“You want a ride home?”
She wanted to spend more time with him. The high energy he usually radiated was tuned down. “Um, I don’t want to take you out of your way.”
“I’m going in to the office. So I’ll have to go right by your place.”
“I have an errand to run. You better just go on.”
“I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
She glanced across the yard at him. The bus should be here any minute. “I was going to the drugstore.”
“Condoms?” he said, almost teasingly.
Maybe it would be better to let him believe that. But once you started talking in half truths it was so hard to go back to honesty. “No, pregnancy test.”
He thrust his hands in his pockets. “Can you take one this soon?”
Less than a week, she thought. Was it too early to tell? “I don’t know. I was going to check and see.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said.
“It might be weird.” Especially if they saw someone from the office. She could conceivably explain going to the symphony with Nick but shopping for pregnancy test kits together was not something she wanted to talk about to her co-workers.
“I can live with it.”
This was it, she thought. If she wanted to teach Nick about love and commitment she had to start here. “Okay.”
He walked back up the hill as the bus approached and Lila followed him. The Porsche was warm from the sun and, as she slid into it, she realized that she could get used to this; get used to spending lazy Saturdays with Nick. And that idea comforted her deep in her heart.
Seeing Mr. McKee always brought back bittersweet memories of his childhood. Long, hot afternoons spent skiing and boating on Lake Michigan. The longing for the family that Buster had and that Nick never would.
Some Kind 0f Incredible (20 Amber Court Book 2) Page 5
