Tender Loving Care

by Susan Mallery

  For two weeks, her eyes had watched him. The wary expression lurking in the brown irises had been a constant reminder of her pain. Between the way he’d yelled at his daughter and the discord he’d created with Melissa, he thought it might be time to join a monastery in Tibet…one with a vow of silence and chastity.

  “You look fierce,” she said softly, as she folded her hands on her lap.

  The lamp on his desk cast a pool of light far enough to include her. The wisps of hair around her face seemed translucent, giving her the look of a tired, troubled angel. His gaze traced the shadows under her eyes, the creamy smoothness of her skin. Dropping lower, he admired the way the cotton blouse hugged the full curves of her breasts. Now that he knew the exact shape and feel of the hidden lushness, it was harder than ever to keep from reaching out to take her. Only his promise…his word, kept him seated firmly on his side of the desk.

  “I’m a little stressed out,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “One of the store owners is giving us trouble. The purpose of the revitalization is to give the area the look of an old Spanish town. This guy—” he looked down at his papers “—wants used brick on the front of his shop. Not Mexican pavers or even tile, but used brick. It could just be me, but I don’t think the conquistadores had much call for that. What do you think?”

  She laughed. “I think you’ll persuade him to see the error of his ways.”

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence. I wish I had your faith. The awful part is I keep having nightmares of the street with everything perfect except one storefront that looks like a colonial haberdashery.” He leaned back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to talk about Wendi.”

  “Wait.” He held up his hand. “Before you say another word, I want you to know I’ve been a perfect father for the last couple of weeks.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s true. Wendi told me so at breakfast.”

  “I’m glad.” Melissa’s smile faded as she twisted her fingers together.

  The night was still. His daughter was in her room watching music videos. The air-conditioning had just clicked off. From outside, the sound of crickets drifted through the shut windows, but other than that, there was only his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  “Have you ever…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Just spit it out.”

  She looked up at him, her mouth pulled into a straight line. “When we were shopping this afternoon, Wendi was telling me about Elsie. She’s the older sister of one of her friends. Elsie is fourteen and made an announcement that she had sex with a boy.”

  His heart stopped. “Fourteen?”

  Melissa nodded. “When I asked Wendi what she thought of all this, she said that she couldn’t imagine kissing a boy, let alone doing anything like that.”

  His heart started beating again. “That’s something to be grateful for. Thanks for telling me, Melissa. I appreciate…what?”

  “That’s not what I wanted to say. It’s about Wendi. When we were talking about Elsie, Wendi made a couple of statements that led me to believe she doesn’t really understand about sex and pregnancy. The statistics on teen pregnancy are alarming. Have either you or Fiona talked to her about this? Does she know about birth control? Does she know how to go about making a rational decision at a time when her hormones are surging out of control?”

  The anger began slowly. He’d been betrayed before. God knows his wife had caused enough heartache for one lifetime. He even expected women to be less than honorable, but he had never thought that of Melissa.

  “How dare you?” he said as he rose to his feet. “Just because Fiona and I made one mistake is no reason to assume our daughter is destined to do the same.”

  She stood up, as well. “Logan, what are you talking about? This has nothing to do with you and Fiona. I’m worried about Wendi. She’s almost thirteen. Don’t you think she deserves to have a clear concept about sex and her sexuality? Do you expect the schools to inform her?”

  “I expect you to have a few children of your own before you start passing judgment on my parental skills.”

  Her chin jerked up. “Why are you taking this so personally? For once, look past your male pride and think about your daughter. Wendi told me that Elsie didn’t have to worry about having a baby because everybody knows you can’t get pregnant the first time.”

  The flash flood of rage dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. “Oh.” He sat down.

  “Oh?” she asked. “That’s it? How about ‘I’m sorry I lost my temper’? Or, ‘Gee, Melissa, you’re a swell human being and I don’t deserve to lick the ground you walk on’?”

  He grinned. “The last sounds a little extreme. But I am willing to admit I was wrong to overreact and lucky to have found you. Is that good enough?”

  “It’ll do,” she said grudgingly. “So, are you going to talk to your daughter?”

  “About…that? Ah, isn’t that more of a woman thing?”

  Melissa placed her hands on her hips. “Coward.”

  “About this? You bet. I don’t suppose you have a book or something you could give her?”

  “As a matter of fact I know of a great pamphlet on the subject. I’ll get a copy this week or next, and pass it on to Wendi. But I expect you to talk with her. She needs to know your feelings on the subject.”

  His feelings? Right now he was so confused, his child could probably help clear his mind. “Let me know when you have your conversation. I’ll speak with her after that. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She walked to the doorway. “Thanks, Logan.”

  He stood and moved next to her. “I’m the one who’s grateful. I know you care about Wendi and I’m sorry I lost my temper. It was just…”

  She smiled up at him. Trust, compassion and something he didn’t want to identify lurked in her eyes. “I understand,” she whispered. “Don’t give it another thought.”

  He watched her walk away, then moved to the window. Darkness and his own reflection stared back at him.

  Melissa was one of the few people he knew who would stand up to him when he was angry. Most of the time, Fiona had simply pouted in the bedroom until his temper had faded. But Melissa…if someone she cared about was in trouble, she’d face an army for them…and win.

  She’d known, he thought as he jammed his hands into his front pockets. She’d known why he’d gotten angry and she’d understood. In less than three months, she’d tangled herself in the workings of his life. When the time was up, unweaving her was going to be a long and painful process.

  They’d keep in touch, he decided. Wendi would like that. And he could keep tabs on Melissa. When she got involved, he could make sure the man was suitable. She needed someone strong yet gentle, responsible yet fun. The kind of guy who would…

  But the image of Melissa with another man was unthinkable. He wanted things to stay as they were. She would take care of him and Wendi and he would…

  He would do nothing. When her time was up, she would leave. To hold her with false promises of what could never be was a far greater crime than he was capable of committing. She needed the affection of a good man. While he considered himself a decent person, love between them was impossible. Love required trust. Trust left one open to betrayal.

  The irony of the whole situation was that he still wanted her. The flames fanned by their earlier intimacy threatened to consume his soul.

  Returning to his chair, he tried to block her from his mind. Echoes of words and laughter broke his concentration. Everything had been simpler before the petite nurse had entered his home and started interrupting his sleep and haunting his dreams.

  Melissa flipped on the TV, then turned down the sound. Well-dressed men and women paraded across the screen, their lips moving as they argued, threatened and proclaimed. When a familiar raven-haired beauty appeared, her lithe body draped in a formal gown, Melissa shook her fist.

  “This is your fault,�
� she said aloud. “Wendi is your daughter. I don’t know what to say to her. Why aren’t you here taking care of your responsibilities instead of playing bedroom tag with every available movie star in the city?”

  The figure in the daytime drama continued with her scene, unaffected by the impassioned plea.

  “What kind of a person are you?” Melissa asked. “You didn’t even care enough to get joint custody of your only child. What am I supposed to do? Stop caring about her? Care more? Damn you, Fiona!”

  Melissa picked up one of the floral throw pillows on the sofa and tossed it at the television. It hit the left corner and dropped harmlessly to the floor. “And you hurt Logan, too. He won’t let himself trust anybody again. Did you ever think there might be another woman who would want what you so easily threw away?” She pitched another pillow, and another.

  “What happens now? If you decide you want to come back to the fold, am I supposed to just walk away?”

  There weren’t any more pillows, so she picked up one of the seat cushions and hurled it along with a string of curses that questioned everything from Fiona’s parentage to her reason for being born.

  “How am I supposed to leave Logan and Wendi? How am I supposed to compete with you?”

  Hitting the off button on the TV, she gave the stand a kick for good measure.

  “Melissa?”

  She spun and found Wendi standing in the room. “When did you get home?” she asked.

  “Just this second. What…” Wendi looked at the cushions and pillows piled on the floor. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I was, ah, looking for spare change in the sofa.”

  The girl looked doubtful. “If you say so. Do you feel all right?”

  Melissa smiled. There was nothing like throwing things to work through anger, she thought. “Never better.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” She began picking up the cushions and setting them back in place.

  “I’ll be in my room if you want me to call a doctor or anything.”

  Melissa remembered the brochure she’d picked up that morning. “No doctors, but I do want to speak with you. Let me clean up the mess and I’ll be right there.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I stopped by a clinic and got you this brochure.” Melissa handed the pamphlet to the girl, then set a shopping bag on the bed.

  Wendi flipped through the pages. “Sex education? I knew I shouldn’t have told you about Elsie.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Melissa smoothed the girl’s bangs out of her face. “Sit down.”

  Wendi plopped down and tossed the booklet onto her desk. “I don’t want to do this. I know everything.”

  “Then I have some news. You can get pregnant the first time.”

  “Really?”

  Melissa sat next to her. “Really. Are you ready to listen now?”

  “Can’t I just read about it?”

  “Wendi!”

  “Melissa! Come on. This is embarrassing.”

  Yeah. For both of them. “Do you promise to ask me if you have any questions?”

  “Yes.” The girl stared at the ground.

  “Okay. I’ll let you look over the information, then we’ll talk at the end of the week.” She reached down and opened the grocery bag. “Has anyone explained about getting your period?”

  “It’s not going to start for ages. I’m still a girl.”

  “You’ll be thirteen in a couple of months. Trust me, your days of being a girl are numbered.”

  Step by step she went over what would happen and the logistics of handling the monthly cycle.

  “Will I get PMS?” Wendi asked.

  “Not if you’re lucky.”

  “I kinda like the idea of being cranky once a month. Mom says it keeps men in line.”

  “Fiona should know,” Melissa muttered under her breath.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She gathered up the supplies and carried them into Wendi’s bathroom. “I’ve put everything on the bottom shelf. Don’t be scared when it starts. If I’m gone, you can call me or talk to Mrs. Dupuis or your dad.”

  “My dad!” Her cheeks flamed. “Jeez, Melissa. I couldn’t tell him.”

  She hid a smile. “Sure you can. You can tell dads anything.”

  Wendi flipped on the TV. “Are we done now?”

  “Yes. Dinner’s at six.”

  She went out and closed the door behind her. That hadn’t been so bad, she thought. A sliver of guilt worked its way down her spine. She should have actually talked about sex. Putting it off wasn’t going to make it easier. But the reprieve, however short, seemed like a gift from God.

  Would it be easier with her own children? she wondered. Although Wendi and she were very close, it wasn’t the same. There was still an element of best behavior on the girl’s part. With the exception of her outburst a few weeks ago, they rarely fought.

  Don’t go looking for trouble, she told herself. There were only two more weeks until her job ended. That was plenty of time for a disaster or two.

  When Melissa heard the key in the lock, she glanced up at the clock. It was after ten. She stood and tossed her magazine back onto the sofa, then stretched.

  Logan pushed open the door. “Hi.” His weary smile was matched by the slump of his shoulders.

  “Hi, yourself. You look awful. How do you feel?”

  “Don’t ask.” He dropped his briefcase in the foyer and moved toward her. “I just spent fourteen hours either staring at a computer screen or looking over blueprints. I have a headache, I’m hungry and I just want to sleep for three days.”

  “Come on, big boy, I’ve got dinner waiting.”

  “You saved me something?”

  She nodded as she walked into the kitchen.

  “When we all get to heaven, I’ll put in a good word.”

  She flipped on the lights and opened the refrigerator. “That’s quite an assumption.”

  “Melissa, I’m sure you’ll get to heaven. Don’t worry.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  He grinned and slipped out of his jacket. “I know you’re not talking about me.”

  “Take a seat over there.” She and Wendi had made homemade pizza for dinner. She adjusted the heat on the oven, then slipped the prepared dough and toppings onto a cookie sheet. Once it was baking, she served the salad and poured a glass of wine for each of them.

  Logan undid his tie and pulled off the length of yellow cloth. After unbuttoning the collar, he did the same to the sleeves, then folded them up to his elbows. Long fingers adjusted the cotton and smoothed the cuff flat. As she sat across from him, she tried not to stare. There was an elegance in his movements; fluid masculine gestures tore through her wall of defenses. He might be hungry for dinner, but her wanting was more primal.

  “Where’s my daughter?” he asked, spearing a bite of salad.

  “She had a long day at camp. I checked about fifteen minutes ago and she was already asleep. Tell me about the project.”

  Logan discussed the details of the revitalization. By the time he’d eaten his pizza, it was almost eleven. Tiredness scored deep lines around his mouth.

  “You’d better get to bed or you’ll end up spending the night at the table,” she said.

  “You’re right. Thanks for dinner. Did I ever tell you you’re a great cook?” He rose and tossed his napkin down.

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He crossed the room, then paused and glanced at her over his shoulder. “Melissa?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Would you mind…” He cleared his throat.

  “What, Logan?”

  “My back and shoulders are stiff from being hunched over all day. Could I trouble you for a back rub?”

  If it hadn’t been for the lazy, sheepish grin tugging at his lips, she would have said no. Two glasses of wine had weakened her resolve enough for her to acknowledge the desire filling her. Despite the pain of his
rejection, she wanted him.

  “Sure. Go lie down on your bed. I’ll be right in.”

  In record time, the dishes were rinsed and stacked in the dishwasher. She wiped the counter and the table, then folded the dishcloth over the sink. When there was nothing else to detain her, she walked to the back of the house.

  Only the lamp in the corner was on. Light spilled out as far as the coffee table, but the bed was in shadow. The bedspread had been pulled back, along with the light blanket and top sheet. Logan lay on his stomach in the center of the mattress, his body bare except for a pair of cotton shorts.

  He turned his head toward her. “There’s lotion on the nightstand. I really appreciate this, Melissa.”

  “N-no problem.” Had that squeaky voice belonged to her? She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

  It was just a back, she told herself. No different from others she’d seen and massaged. So what if it was a little broader, slightly more muscled, and deeply tanned? No one needed to know that her knees were shaking or her core damp with desire.

  She approached the bed and slipped out of her thongs. Taking the lotion in one hand, she crawled next to him.

  “Go ahead and sit on me,” he said.

  “What?”

  He tensed his shoulders, then released them. “You’ll be able to reach more if you sit on me.” He offered her a lazy smile. “After all, there’s no one here but us chickens.”

  She couldn’t! It would be so…intimate. “I…”

  “Move,” he commanded, tapping her knee.

  He was her boss, she told herself. And it would be terribly rude to disobey a direct order. She glanced at the wide expanse of skin and sighed. It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it. “If you insist…”

  Heat. The warmth from his body was instantly transmitted to hers. Her thighs cradled his hips. Every fiber inside her screamed at him to turn over and take her. Only her lips were silent. She poured lotion into her hand and reached down to touch his skin.