Right Next Door

by Debbie Macomber

  Alex pulled into her driveway and turned off the engine. The living room was dark and the curtains drawn. The only illumination was the dim light on her front porch. When Alex turned to face her, Carol’s heart exploded with dread and wonder. His look was warm, eager enough to make her blood run hot…and then immediately cold.

  “I had a good time tonight.” He spoke first.

  “I did, too.” How weak she sounded, how tentative…

  “I’d like to see you again.”

  They were the words she’d feared—and longed for. The deep restlessness she’d experienced since the night her car had broken down reverberated within her, echoing through the empty years she’d spent alone.

  “Carol?”

  “I…don’t know.” She tried to remind herself of what her life had been like with Bruce. The tireless lies, the crazy brushes with danger as though he were courting death. The anger and impatience, the pain that gnawed at her soul. She thought of the wall she’d so meticulously constructed around her heart. A wall years thick and so high no man had ever been able to breach it. “I…don’t think so.”

  “Why not? I don’t understand.”

  Words could never explain her fear.

  “Let me revise my statement,” Alex said. “I need to see you again.”

  “Why?” she cried. “This was only supposed to be one night…to thank you for your help. I can’t give you any more…I just can’t and…” Her breath scattered, and her lungs burned within her chest. She couldn’t deny the things he made her feel.

  “Carol,” he said softly. “There’s no reason to be afraid.”

  But there was. Except he wouldn’t understand.

  He reached up and placed his calloused palm against her cheek.

  Carol flinched and quickly shut her eyes. “No…please, I have to go inside…Peter’s waiting for me.” She grabbed the door handle, and it was all she could do not to escape from the car and rush into the house.

  “Wait,” he said huskily, removing his hand from her face. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  She nodded, opening her eyes, and her startled gaze collided with his. She watched as he slowly appraised her, taking in her flushed face and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. He frowned.

  “You’re trembling.”

  “I’m fine…really. Thank you for tonight. I had a marvelous time.”

  His hand settled over hers. “You’ll see me again.”

  It wasn’t until she was safely inside her living room and her heart was back to normal that Carol realized his parting words had been a statement of fact.

  Four

  “So, Dad, how did dinner go with Mrs. Sommars?” James asked as he poured himself a huge bowl of cornflakes. He added enough sugar to make eating it worth his while, then for extra measure added a couple of teaspoons more.

  Alex cupped his steaming mug of coffee as he considered his son’s question. “Dinner went fine.” It was afterward that stayed in his mind. Someone had hurt Carol and hurt her badly. He’d hardly touched her and she’d trembled. Her dark brown eyes had clouded, and she couldn’t seem to get out of his car fast enough. The crazy part was, Alex felt convinced she was attracted to him. He knew something else—she didn’t want to be.

  They’d spent hours talking over dinner, and it had seemed as though only a few moments had passed. There was no need for pretense between them. She didn’t pretend to be anything she wasn’t, and he was free to be himself as well. They were simply two single parents who had a lot in common. After two years of dealing with the singles scene, Alex found Carol a refreshing change. He found her alluringly beautiful and at the same time shockingly innocent. During the course of their evening, she’d argued with him over politics, surprised him with her wit and challenged his opinions. In those few hours, Alex learned that this intriguing widow was a charming study in contrasts, and he couldn’t wait to see her again.

  “Mrs. Sommars is a neat lady,” James said, claiming the kitchen chair across from his father. “She’s a little weird, though.”

  Alex looked up from his coffee. “How’s that?”

  “She listens to opera,” James explained between bites. “Sings it, too—” he planted his elbows on the tabletop, leaned forward and whispered “—in Italian.”

  “Whoa.” Alex was impressed.

  “At the top of her voice. Peter told me she won’t let him play his rap CDs nearly as loud as she does her operas.”

  “The injustice of it all.”

  James ignored his sarcasm. “Peter was telling me his grandmother’s a real kick, too. She says things like ‘Eat your vegetables or I’m calling my uncle Vito in Jersey City.’”

  Alex laughed, glanced at his watch and reluctantly got to his feet. He finished the last of his coffee, then set the mug in the sink. “Do you have your lunch money?”

  “Dad, I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t have to ask me stuff like that.”

  “Do you?” Alex pressed.

  James stood and reached inside his hip pocket. His eyes widened. “I…guess I left it in my room.”

  “Don’t forget your driver’s permit, either.”

  “Dad!”

  Alex held up both hands. “Sorry.”

  He was all the way to the front door when James’s shout stopped him.

  “Don’t forget to pick me up from track practice, all right?”

  Alex pointed his finger at his son and calmly said, “I’ll be there.”

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “What now?” Alex complained.

  James shrugged and leaned his shoulder against the door leading into the kitchen. “In case you’re interested, Mrs. Sommars will be there, too.”

  Alex was interested. Very interested.

  He left the house and climbed inside his work van, sitting in the driver’s seat with his hands on the steering wheel. He mulled over the events of the night before. He’d dated several women recently. Beautiful women, intelligent women, wealthy women. A couple of them had come on hot and heavy. But not one had appealed to him as strongly as this widow with the dark, frightened eyes and the soft, delectable mouth.

  A deep part of him yearned to stroke away the pain she held on to so tightly, whatever its source. He longed to watch the anxiety fade from her eyes when she settled into his arms. He wanted her to feel secure enough with him to relax. The urge to hold her and kiss her was strong, but he doubted Carol would let him.

  “Okay, Peggy, bear down…push…as hard as you can,” Carol urged the young mother-to-be, clutching her hand. Peggy did as Carol asked, gritting her teeth, arching forward and lifting her head off the hospital pillow. She gave it everything she had, whimpering softly with the intensity of the labor pain. When the contraction had passed, Peggy’s head fell back and she took in several deep breaths.

  “You’re doing a good job,” Carol said, patting her shoulder.

  “How much longer before my baby’s born?”

  “Soon,” Carol assured her. “The doctor’s on his way now.”

  The woman’s eyes drifted closed. “Where’s Danny? I need Danny.”

  “He’ll be back in a minute.” Carol had sent her patient’s husband out for a much-needed coffee.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Carol smiled. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

  “Danny wants a son so much.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be just as happy with a little girl.”

  Peggy smiled, but that quickly faded as another contraction started. She reached for Carol’s hand, her face marked by the long hours she’d struggled to give birth. Carol had spent the past hour with her. She preferred it when they weren’t so busy and she could dedicate herself to one patient. But for more days than she cared to remember, the hospital’s five labor rooms had been full, and she spent her time racing from one to the other.

  Peggy groaned, staring at a focal point on the wall. The technique was one Carol taught in her classes. Concentrating on a set object helpe
d the mother remember and practice the breathing techniques.

  “You’re doing just fine,” Carol said softly. “Take a deep breath now and let it out slowly.”

  “I can’t do it anymore…I can’t,” Peggy cried. “Where’s Danny? Why’s he taking so long?”

  “He’ll be back any second.” Now that her patient was in the final stages of labor, the pains were stronger and closer together.

  Danny walked into the room, looking pale and anxious…and so very young. He moved to the side of the bed and reached for his wife’s hand, holding it to his cheek. He seemed as relieved as Peggy when the contraction eased.

  Dr. Adams, old and wise and a hospital institution, sauntered into the room, hands in his pockets, smiling. “So, Peggy, it looks like we’re going to finally have that baby.”

  Peggy grinned sheepishly. “I told Dr. Adams yesterday I was sure I was going to be pregnant until Christmas. I didn’t think this baby ever wanted to be born!”

  Phil Adams gave his instructions to Carol, and within a few minutes the medical team had assembled. From that point on, everything happened exactly as it should. Before another hour had passed, a squalling Danny, Jr., was placed in his father’s arms.

  “Peggy…oh Peggy, a son.” Tears of joy rained down the young man’s face as he sobbed unabashedly, holding his son close.

  Although Carol witnessed scenes such as this day in and day out, the thrill of helping to bring a tiny being into the world never left her.

  When her shift was over, she showered and changed clothes, conscious of the time. She had to pick Peter up from track practice on her way home, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting, although she was the one likely to be twiddling her thumbs.

  The first thing Carol noticed when she pulled into the school parking lot was a van with Preston Construction printed in large black letters on the side. Alex. She drew in a shaky breath, determined to be friendly but reserved. After the way she’d escaped from his car the night before, it was doubtful he’d want anything to do with her, anyway.

  The fact was, she couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. Then again, she did know…and she didn’t want to dwell on it.

  She parked a safe distance away, praying that either Peter would be finished soon and they could leave or that Alex wouldn’t notice her arrival. She lowered the window to let in the warm breeze, then turned off the ignition and reached for a magazine, burying her face in its pages. For five minutes nothing happened.

  When the driver’s side of the van opened, Carol realized her luck wasn’t going to hold. She did her best to concentrate on a recipe for stuffed pork chops and pretend she hadn’t seen Alex approach her. When she glanced up, he was standing beside her car. Their eyes met for what seemed the longest moment of her life.

  “Hello again.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on her window.

  “Hello, Alex.”

  “Nice day, isn’t it?”

  “Lovely.” It wasn’t only his smile that intrigued her, but his eyes. Their color was like a cool mist rising off a pond. Would this attraction she felt never diminish, never stop? Three brief encounters, and she was already so tied up in knots she couldn’t think clearly.

  “How was your day?” His eyes were relentless, searching for answers she couldn’t give him to questions she didn’t want him to ask.

  She glanced away. “Good. How about yours?”

  “Fine.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I was going to call you later.”

  “Oh?”

  “To see if you’d like to attend the Home Show with me Friday night. I thought we could have dinner afterward.”

  Carol opened her mouth to refuse, but he stopped her, laying his finger across her lips, silencing her. The instant his hand touched her, the warm, dizzy feeling began. As implausible, as preposterous as it seemed, a deep physical sensation flooded her body. And all he’d done was lightly press his finger to her lips!

  “Don’t say no,” Alex said, his voice husky.

  She couldn’t, at least not then. “I…I’ll have to check my schedule.”

  “You can tell me tomorrow.”

  She nodded, although it was an effort.

  “Good…I’ll talk to you then.”

  It wasn’t until he’d removed his finger, sliding it across her moist lips, that Carol breathed again.

  “What do you mean you can’t pick me up from track?” Peter complained the next morning. “How else am I supposed to get home? Walk?”

  “From track practice, of all things.” She added an extra oatmeal cookie to his lunch because, despite everything, she felt guilty about asking him to find another way home. She was such a coward.

  “Mom, coach works us hard—you know that. I was so stiff last night I could barely move. Remember?”

  Regretfully, Carol did. A third cookie went into the brown-paper sack.

  “What’s more important than picking me up?”

  Escaping a man. If only Alex hadn’t been so gentle. Carol had lain awake half the night, not knowing what was wrong with her or how to deal with it. This thing with Alex, whatever it was, perplexed and bewildered her. For most of her life, Carol had given and received countless hugs and kisses—from relatives, from friends. Touching and being touched were a natural part of her personality. But all Alex had done was press his finger to her lips, and her response…her response still left her stunned.

  As she lay in bed, recalling each detail of their brief exchange, her body had reacted again. He didn’t even need to be in the same room with her! Alone, in the wee hours of the morning, she was consumed by the need to be loved by him.

  She woke with the alarm, in a cold sweat, trembling and frightened, convinced that she’d be a fool to let a man have that kind of power a second time.

  “Mom,” Peter said impatiently. “I asked you a question.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “What was it you wanted to know?”

  “I asked why you aren’t going to be at track this afternoon. It’s a simple question.”

  Intuitively Carol knew she wouldn’t be able to escape Alex, and she’d be a bigger fool than she already was even to try.

  She sighed. “I’ll be there,” she said, and handed him his lunch.

  Peter stood frozen, studying her. “Are you sure you’re not coming down with a fever?”

  If only he knew…

  When Carol pulled into the school parking lot later that same day, she saw Alex’s van in the same space as the day before. Only this time he was standing outside, one foot braced against it, fingers tucked in his pockets. His jeans hugged his hips and fit tight across his thighs. He wore a checked work shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

  When she appeared, he lowered his foot and straightened, his movement leisurely and confident.

  It was all Carol could do to slow down and park her car next to his. To avoid being placed at a disadvantage, she opened her door and climbed out.

  “Good afternoon,” she said, smiling so brightly her mouth felt as though it would crack.

  “Hello again.”

  A lock of his dark hair fell over his forehead, and he threaded his fingers through its thickness, pushing it away from his face.

  His gaze tugged at hers until their eyes met briefly, intently.

  “It’s warmer today than it was yesterday,” she said conversationally.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Carol lowered her eyes to his chest, thinking she’d be safe if she practiced what she preached. Find a focal point and concentrate. Only it didn’t work as well in situations like this. Instead of saying what had been on her mind most of the day, she became aware of the pattern of his breathing, and how the rhythm of her own had changed, grown faster and more erratic.

  “Have you decided?”

  Her eyes rushed to his. “About…”

  “Friday night.”

  She wished it could be the way it had been in the restaurant. There was some
thing about being with a crowd that relaxed her. She hadn’t felt intimidated.

  “I…don’t think seeing each other is such a good idea. It’d be best if we…stayed friends. I can foresee all kinds of problems if we started dating, can’t you?”

  “The Home Show’s going to cause problems?”

  “No…our seeing each other will.”

  “Why?”

  “The boys—”

  “Couldn’t care less. If anything, they approve. I don’t understand why there’d be any problems. I like you and you like me—we’ve got a lot in common. We have fun together. Where’s the problem in that?”

  Carol couldn’t very well explain that when he touched her, even lightly, tiny atoms exploded inside her. Whenever they were within ten feet of each other, the air crackled with sensuality that grew more intense with each encounter. Surely he could feel it, too. Surely he was aware of it.

  Carol held a hand to her brow, not knowing how to answer him. If she pointed out the obvious, she’d sound like a fool, but she couldn’t deny it, either.

  “I…just don’t think our seeing each other is a good idea,” she repeated stubbornly.

  “I do,” he countered. “In fact, it appeals to me more every minute.”

  “Oh, Alex, please don’t do this.”

  Other cars were filling the parking lot, and the two of them had quickly become the center of attention. Carol glanced around self-consciously, praying he’d accept her refusal and leave it at that. She should’ve known better.

  “Come in here,” Alex said, opening the side panel to his van. He stepped inside and offered her his hand. She joined him before she had time to determine the wisdom of doing so.

  Alex closed the door. “Now, where were we…ah, yes. You’d decided you don’t want to go out with me again.”

  That wasn’t quite accurate, but she wasn’t going to argue. She’d rarely wanted anything more than to continue seeing him, but she wasn’t ready. Yet…Bruce had been dead for thirteen years. If she wasn’t ready by now, she never would be. The knowledge hit her hard, like an unexpected blow, and her eyes flew to his.