by Kathryn Shay
“Thanks” The smile Spence Keagan flashed her made her toes curl. His eyes sparkled and his face appeared younger, less world-weary. Not once in her entire career had a job made her feel the way he looked now.
“I just asked Alexis if she’d like to join us at Casey’s,” Grant said, smoothly.
Though his eyes flickered with surprise, even that invitation didn’t seem to douse his good mood.
Jim clapped Spence on the back. “Come on, buddy, we need to make out the case report and pilot’s log.”
“Fine. But you gotta promise not to draw those little happy faces on yours again.”
They both laughed, nodded to Alexis and Grant and strode into the offices with their arms clasped around each other’s shoulders.
A pang of loneliness shot through Alexis, so strong it startled her.
“Alexis, will you come with us?”
Facing Grant, she shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think so. My daughter Jamie’s home now, and I...well, no, but thanks for the invitation.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I need to get going.”
Grant studied her for a moment. “Aren’t you in Catasaga for a vacation, too?”
“Yes.”
“You should have some fun.” His tone was...fatherly. It warmed her, which was foolish. She hardly knew the man. Yet his kind brown eyes stayed with her, even after she declined a second time and left the base.
Portia’s car was parked in the McPhersons’ driveway when Alexis drove in next door. Sounds of giggling drifted from their deck as she made her way between the houses. The air was still warm and she was hoping to take a dip in the lake with Jamie before supper.
“Here she is. The Prodigal Mother returns.” Jamie’s tone, caustic and critical, effectively reminding Alexis that she should have stayed home. The good feelings from the rescue evaporated in the wind of her daughter’s sarcasm.
“Hi.” She climbed the stairs. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yep.” Jamie lounged in one of the padded chaises, dangling bare feet over the side. Wearing a wet, two-piece, red swimsuit with orange trim, she’d painted iridescent orange polish on her toes and fingernails. Max, in a plain black Speedo and her usual somber expression, lazed in another chaise, headphones on, eyes closed, tapping a rhythm with her foot. She had painted her nails to match Jamie’s.
Alexis bent to kiss Jamie’s cheek. No one asked about Alexis’s day and her feeling of isolation doubled. The door banged and Portia floated out of the house, dressed in a shimmery gold bikini, carrying a tray of frosty glasses. Her curves reminded Alexis of Jenna on the soap opera.
Spence is madly in love with her…
It was obvious what Spence’s type of woman was—tall, blond and voluptuous. Alexis reached up, tugged the clips out of her hair and unbuttoned her jacket. Her heels felt even tighter.
“Hi, Lex. Have a nice day?”
“Yes, it was...very informative.”
“Isn’t that a neat place?” Portia handed drinks to Jamie and Max.
“Uh-huh.” Alexis turned to Jamie. “Maybe you’d like to visit some time.”
“No thanks” She shot a meaningful look at Portia. “Ask her, Porsche.”
Puzzled, Alexis cocked her head.
“There’s an outdoor concert at the high-school stadium tonight. Somebody came into the shop today with three tickets they couldn’t use to see The Cranberries. I thought I might take the girls.”
Alexis glanced at the teenagers. Jamie’s eyes were hopeful. Even Max seemed eager. “Sure, if you want to, Portia.”
“Are you kidding? Would you pass up a chance to see The Cranberries?”
Alexis didn’t even know who The Cranberries were. “Oh, of course not.”
As if they’d been freed from jail, the girls flew off the chairs and headed next door. “You can borrow my clothes,” Jamie was saying to Max. As she passed Portia, she kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Fairy Godmother.” And they were gone. The emptiness inside of Alexis grew until it choked her.
“You okay, Lex?” Portia asked.
“Oh, sure.” She opened her purse. “Let me give you some money for Jamie and Max.”
Portia’s hand rested on her arm. “We don’t need money. The tickets were free. I think I can spring for a hot dog on the way.”
We don’t need money...thanks Fairy Godmother...we always celebrate a save…
Alex stood on the deck, staring at her beautiful cousin, surrounded by sunshine and the soft lapping of the water, and was overwhelmed by how meaningless her life had become.
Overwhelmed, and a little ashamed.
o0o
SPENCE’S FATHER used to say that women were like boats. Though the analogy wasn’t new—ships had been called she since the days of pirates—Judd Keagan’s version was different, as usual. He’d said that if you kept them moored to you, spent time caring for them, then they’d last a lifetime. If not, they’d drift off, or worse, wear down and break.
Like his father, Spence was a lot better with boats than women. At forty, Judd had divorced Spence’s pretty but down-to-earth mother, moved from Rochester to New York and married a trophy wife, Vanessa, whom Spence had called Vanna White—Jamie would love that. Judd had divorced her at fifty, and flitted around the world. Now he was back in Rochester, courting Anna King, a relatively demure, nice woman, so their relationship probably wouldn’t last.
Spence had followed in his father’s footsteps, divorcing Jeff’s mother, Becky, just a few years earlier. Now, he dated Nancy Anderson, the bartender at Casey’s. She was a fine woman, but he didn’t take good care of her, either, which was probably why she was flirting with some suit from the electronics plant at the end of the bar tonight.
He liked Nancy. She looked a bit like Jenna—long blond hair, big baby blues, a body that stopped traffic, especially tonight in tight white jeans and a slinky pink top. She said he wouldn’t let her close, that she wanted more than a physical relationship with him.
Which Spence would not give. To anybody.
He leaned back against the wall from the end bar stool and scanned Casey’s. It was a cozy place, with dark wood-paneled walls, recessed lighting, and a spiffy U-shaped oak bar stained in ebony to match the walls. There was a pool table and a couple of arcade games. An old-fashioned jukebox blared out some nasty country and western.
Next to it, the door opened and a woman entered. Head down, her thick hair covered her face for a second. When she raised her chin, Spence was stunned to see Alexis Castle emerge from the bouncy mass. It was wild and fluffy, and even in the boat the other day, it hadn’t begged to be touched, like now.
As she looked around the bar—for the Guardian crew?—his eyes roamed lower. He had to stop himself from whistling; the top she wore was a cute little white thing, with inch-wide straps trimmed in lace, a row of tiny buttons down the front and lace again at the bottom. It came right to the waistline of her jeans, which fit downright nice over long, long legs. Damn, he thought, if she gained twenty pounds she’d be a knockout. Even now, she looked...attractive. Sexy.
Her gaze settled on him. He lifted his soft drink and saluted her. The smile she gave him was unsure, and like when she got sick on the boat, he experienced the absurd urge to wind his way through the crowd and take care of her. Thank God, Grant had noticed her and crossed immediately to where she stood.
She grinned up at him. Her shoulders relaxed and her smile was real. His own disappeared as he saw them head toward him. Fifteen other Guardian employees were here and Richards had picked on him. Damn.
“Look who’s here, Keag.” Grant sidled up to the bar with Alexis in tow.
“Hi. I saw you come in.” Spence’s voice was a little rusty, a little hoarse, like it got after sex.
“Hi.”
“What would you like to drink?” Grant asked her.
Her hand slid to her stomach. “I’ll have a ginger ale.”
Grant raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“I don
’t drink much. I’ve, um, got a funny stomach.”
When Grant faced the bar to get Nancy’s attention, Spence was forced to talk to Alexis. “I’m surprised to see you.”
As if jolted by an electric shock, her shoulders stiffened. “Grant invited me to join you.”
“I didn’t mean you weren’t welcome. It’s just that you seem to stick like glue to Jamie most of the time and you were at the base all day.”
Alexis’s groan was full of parental exasperation. “I went home to be with her after I left Guardian, but she had tickets to see The Cranberries with Portia and took off ten minutes after I got back.”
“See who?”
“Don’t ask.”
Spence smiled at her chagrin. “Didn’t you know that rule number one for raisin’ kids is they can ditch you any time they have better plans, but you can’t do the same or you’re neglecting them?”
She nodded in agreement. Close up, he could see she’d caught some sun this week; her freckles were more prominent, and her lightly browned skin contrasted nicely against the white of her top.
“Spence, would you like another?” Nancy asked, from behind the bar. When he turned, he saw a spark of awareness in her eyes.
“No, thanks, I’m nursin’ this one.”
As Grant handed Alexis her drink, and chatted with her, Nancy propped her elbows on the bar and leaned close to him. “I’m off at midnight.”
He cocked his head. “No more cold shoulder?”
“You haven’t called.”
“Sorry.”
“Midnight?”
His gaze strayed to Alexis, but before he could answer, Nancy was called away to pour two gin and tonics.
“…weren’t coming?” Grant was saying to her.
“Change of plans.”
“Good, you could use some relaxation.”
Alexis seemed confused by his tone. Affectionately, Spence patted Grant on the back. “Grant’s a regular mother hen,” he told Alexis. “Watches out for all of us.
“You especially.” Grant glanced at his watch. “However, I’m afraid I can’t stay. Julia and I have a date.”
Alexis’s eyebrows shot up. If she’d had everybody investigated, she’d know Grant’s wife was named Laura. Maybe she hadn’t dug deep enough, though. Clearly, she was ready to assume the worst. He wondered why; what had happened in the past to make her distrust others? For the first time, Spence wondered about Jamie’s father.
Grant had guessed her suspicions, too. “Julia is my five-year-old granddaughter,” he explained. “My son and his wife pester me to babysit.”
Rolling his eyes, Spence said, “Don’t believe him. He begs to take care of the kid.”
“Hey, that’s what grandpas are for.”
Spence looked away, trying not to think of Jeff’s grandpa, who’d stolen Jeff from him. When he glanced at Alexis, he caught her studying him.
“Well, I’m off. Take care of Alexis, will you Spence?” Grant said his goodbyes, making sure he touched base with all the employees before he left.
Feeling awkward, Spence shifted on his stool.
“You don’t have to take care of me,” Alexis told him.
He nodded to the seat next to him. “Sit down, if you like.”
Eyeing the stool as if she were making a major corporate decision, she finally took it. She fussed with her purse and threaded the hair off her face until he realized he made her nervous. At forty-four, he didn’t think he’d be making women nervous anymore. He kind of liked it.
When she raised those big doe eyes at him, he felt his own nerves skitter. “Spence, I wanted to tell you how impressed I was with Guardian today.”
Ah, a good chance for some PR. “We do those rescues routinely, Alexis.”
She was savvy enough to catch the plug. “Do you ever get used to it?”
“What?”
“Saving people’s lives.”
He thought of the young girl, Annie, hanging on to his hand, tears in her eyes. “No, never.” In spite of himself, he warmed to the topic. “You know what the best part is?”
She shook her head.
“Helping the families of victims. The paramedics take care of the patients and I often handle everybody else.” He smiled. “There was a kid about Jamie’s age at the scene today. She was terrified.”
Alexis scowled. “Was she with the driver who died?”
Shaking his head, Spence sipped his soda. “She was with the woman we transported. She made me feel like God, flyin’ away to take her aunt to safety.”
“You do wonderful things. I can’t imagine what it’s like to spend your life helping people.”
“I get paid well.”
She shot him a sideways glance. “From my two visits, I can tell that the people who work at Guardian aren’t in it for the money.” Her eyes narrowed on him. “How come you’re so good with teenagers?”
“I am?”
“Yeah, Max adores you. And Jamie talks about you like she used to talk about her favorite fifth-grade teacher.”
“It’s easy to be popular with kids who aren’t your own.”
Again, Alexis nodded in agreement, as if he’d vindicated her somehow, and he cursed himself for getting drawn to this woman a second time. How on earth did she lure him into personal conversations? She was about as approachable as a porcupine.
“I’m never going to survive Jamie’s adolescence.”
“You ever read the poem ‘Thirteen’?”
“No.”
“I’ll get you a copy. It’s a perfect illustration of why teenagers are so hard to cope with.”
Her face grew serious; she watched him intently. “You’re an odd combination. Tough vet who likes poetry. Where did you—”
“Spence, you got winners. Find a partner and take us on.”
Grateful for the diversion, he glanced at the pool table, where Teddy and Sally were waiting for him. Great timing. He could leave Ms. Alexis and lose himself in the game.
Standing, he stared down at her. She made a lonely figure at the bar; she didn’t really belong. “Don’t suppose you know how to play pool, Alexis?”
Shock flushed that pretty skin of hers. Then, her pouty lips—glazed with some kiss-me lipstick—parted. “As a matter of fact, I played billiards at college.”
“Well, babe, this is down-and-dirty pool here at Casey’s. Wanna shot at it? It’s fun.”
The Lexy in her surfaced. She winked. “I could use some fun.”
o0o
ALEXIS CHALKED HER cue, eyed the long expanse of green felt and leaned low over the table. She eased back the slender stick, just like she’d been taught, and broke the stack. Straightening, she studied the balls with satisfaction.
“Good break, girl,” Sally said, applauding.
“Hey, they’re the enemy.” Teddy protested.
“Still a good break, handsome.”
“Four ball in the corner.” Alexis ignored them and tried to ignore Spence Keagan, who stood across from her watching her every move. This was a challenge, and since she was good, she thrived on it. Three more balls dropped into pockets before she missed a shot.
“I’m impressed,” Spence said. He’d come to stand beside her and offered her a fresh ginger ale. Their hands brushed. His fingertips were rough with a workman’s calluses.
“Thanks.” She looked up at him. The blue of his eyes was deepened by the navy polo shirt he wore, which was open at the throat, its three buttons undone. She could see curly dark-blond hair peeking out. He had a lot of it, beautifully spread all over his chest; she knew because she’d secretly gawked when he’d been working on Clare’s roof. He was a stark contrast to the few men she’d dated, who always looked like they’d walked off the pages of GQ even when they dressed down. She sipped her drink and studied the table to see how her team was faring.
“It’s just a game, Lexy.”
Startled at the use of her nickname, she turned to him, again. It had rolled off his tongue easily. That bot
hered her. “I, um, don’t really use that name.”
“It suits you tonight.”
“Your turn, Keag.”
They both glanced up, startled. Teddy and Sally stared at them curiously.
“I missed.” The medic shook his head. “You’re not paying attention, man.”
“Sure I am.”
Sally mumbled under her breath, “Not to the game.”
Their byplay disturbed Alexis. She drew in a breath. What was she doing here, socializing with these people? Flirting, for God’s sake, with a man she knew from work.
Face it, you’re tired of being alone, Alexis. Tired of being an outsider. Was it wrong to have some fun tonight?
No, it wasn’t wrong, damn it, her Lexy side told her. Go for it. So she sipped her soda and watched Spence lean over the table after assessing his shot. Six feet of man stretched provocatively. “Nine ball off the side,” he called out. She was mesmerized by his movements.
He banked three shots before he missed. When he stood, he looked for her first. His small, intimate smile warmed her. She returned it before she knew what she was doing.
They won, ten minutes later.
“Yes!” Spence said, punching his arm in the air. He turned to her, and seemingly without a thought, scooped her up in a hug. She stiffened at first, at the contact. But his arms felt good around her back as he lifted her off the floor. Her face hovered near his shoulder; he smelled good, too—an outdoorsman’s cologne—and very male. So she wound her own arms around his neck and pressed into him. When he set her down, his hands clamped on her waist, lingering longer than an innocent touch. Then he drew back. There was an odd look on his face. She was deathly afraid of what was on hers. “Good game, Lexy,” he murmured softly.
“You too, Keag.” God, was her voice really husky? Because of one stupid hug from a man she barely knew? She stepped away, and to defuse the moment, turned to pick up the purse that she’d left by the table. He was still waiting for her when she pivoted back.
He said, “Listen, can I buy you—”
The shrill ring of the cell phone in her purse stopped him. After a slight hesitation, she drew out the phone. It might be Jamie. She hoped nothing was wrong. “Hello?”
