by Alison Kent
And when, five minutes after the two vans full of kids pulled out of the motel parking lot and Katie had jumped up and headed for the bathroom, Zack figured she really was sick. Figured as well it was rather lame to order a pizza if she was just going to yak it up after she ate.
But he'd realized what she was up to a few minutes later when she came out of the bathroom wearing a bathing suit. It was a two-piece, but not really a bikini, because the waistband was pretty high and because the legs were cut ... He'd swallowed hard, then, almost swallowed his tongue because the legs were cut all the way up to the waistband on the sides.
But now that he'd made it into the pool and Katie was staying under water, things had pretty much cooled down. And spending the time in the pool with Katie sure was a lot of fun. More fun than he'd've had standing in crowded roller-coaster lines.
Water splashed into his face caught him unawares. He sputtered, shook back his hair, and grinned at Katie treading water in front of him where he'd hooked an arm around the railing of the ladder hanging in the water at the pool's deep end. "What was that for?"
She slapped the surface of the water again. "I didn't fake out my mom to stay here and swim laps, you know."
"I didn't think you were sick. And I can't believe your mom bought it. Especially when you said you were gonna order a pizza." He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah. I almost blew it there." Katie dunked her head to smooth back her hair. "But I never said I was sick to my stomach. Only that I didn't feel good."
"You liar," he said, and couldn't help but smile.
"It wasn't really a lie." She brushed closer as she swam, and Zack knew exactly why she'd lied. "I didn't feel like going."
"That's not quite the same as being sick."
"All right, then. How's this?" She moved in closer, balanced the balls of both feet on the ladder's bottom rung and held fast to the opposite railing. "I'm sick of never getting a chance to be alone with you."
That was what he'd been afraid of. That was what he'd been thrilled by. "What are you talking about? We're alone a lot."
She threatened to splash him again. "I mean alone alone. Without my mom or dad being in the next room. Or without Aaron and Ben in the backseat of the car. I wanted to be here." Her feet still on the ladder, she swished to one side, swished to the other. "With you. Alone."
And then she kissed him.
A quick but thorough mouth-on-mouth kiss, and then she swam away. He had to follow. She'd started it, and he wasn't going to let her get away so easy. In fact, he thought, and grinned to himself, he was going to enjoy making her pay.
He knew he was faster and stronger, but Katie sure didn't make much of an effort. But then that was pretty much the point. He was supposed to catch her. And once he caught her ... well, then. "Gotcha!"
She giggled and screeched. But they were the only two in the pool and the noises didn't reach much beyond his ears anyway. They tussled and splashed and dunked each other, then wrestled away.
She reached for him and he took off, stroking his way back to the deep end of the pool. She followed but she was out of breath, and by the time she reached him he'd had several minutes to do nothing but watch her body move through the water.
Holding onto the edge of the pool with one hand she dunked her head back to smooth her hair, laughed, and wiped the water from her face with the other hand. And then Zack grabbed her, pulled her close to his body, and wrapped his legs around hers beneath her hips to capture her legs.
"Zack!" She laughed with an edge of hysteria. "What're you doing?"
"What you've been wanting me to do all night," he said, gripping the edge of the pool with one arm, wrapping the other around her. He splayed his hand on her back, and slipped it up her wet skin beneath the band of her top.
Her hands were small and gentle and cold, but they warmed up quickly, flat against his chest like they were. He pulled her forward, wanting a kiss, wanting to feel her body.
They'd swum together before, but not like this. Not in the dark. Not alone in deep water. Not when what they were doing now wasn’t teasing or playing but as close to doing it as they'd ever come.
Her hands slid down his sides to his waist, and he arched away from the side of the pool, wanting to feel her hands at the base of his spine, wanting her to pull him forward.
She did. And he knew she felt his hard-on by the way her mouth trembled, by the way her breathing quickened, by the way she pressed against him so hard that her nipples felt like pebbles.
He wanted to touch her. He wanted—
"Katie! Zack!"
Katie spun away from Zack like an Olympic swimmer. She surfaced at the side of the pool near her mother's feet. "Mom! What're you doing here?"
Linda Crenshaw crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at her daughter. "Making sure the pizza you ordered didn't disagree with you."
"Pizza never disagrees with me. I'm fine." Katie laughed and flipped back her wet hair.
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far. I don't think you're as fine as you seem to think you are," Mrs. Crenshaw said, and Zack knew he was sunk. "I called the room and got worried when you didn't answer."
Zack had pushed out of the pool now, and sat quietly on the edge, his feet dangling in the water, his chin dangling to his chest. He was in deep shit. Katie's mom, no, Katie's dad was gonna kill him. His coach was gonna kill him. His mom was gonna kill him worse.
"I thought I'd feel better if I got some fresh air." Katie's voice trembled.
Mrs. Crenshaw had moved her hands to her hips and the glare she'd trained on Katie shifted in Zack's direction. "And Zack. I can't believe you're a party to this. No. Wait. I can. I can believe just about anything right now."
He hooked one heel on the edge of the pool and levered his way to stand. Water ran off his arms and legs and pooled around his feet. He felt like a whipped dog. A wet, pathetic, whipped dog.
"Katie. Go inside and get dressed." Mrs. Crenshaw pointed toward the hotel. "Zack, you, too. When Mrs. Gates gets back, I'll take you two home."
"Mom!" Katie hopped out of the pool. "We can't go home. Tomorrow's the competition."
"And according to the district's conduct policy, you just forfeited your right to compete."
"We weren't doing anything! Mom, please!"
Zack walked around the diving board to where Katie stood with her mother. He kept his distance when he said, "We really weren't doing anything, Mrs. Crenshaw."
"Thank you, Zack. But I saw exactly what you weren't doing. And I doubt Coach Walters would be as generous as I'm being."
"Oh, Mom. No!" Katie had both fists pressed to her chest. Her eyes were wide and teary. "You can't do that to Zack. Playoffs start next week."
Mrs. Crenshaw lifted her chin. "It doesn't seem you were too concerned with playoffs or tomorrow's competition a few minutes ago."
"Mom!" Katie stomped a foot. "You are being so unfair."
"Unfair? You think I'm being unfair? Well, let me tell you what I think, Katherine Crenshaw." Katie's mom stepped closer, got right into Katie's face. "I think you're being unfair. To your squad members, who're counting on you. To Zack, who has playoffs at stake. To me and to your father, who believed better of you. And to yourself. Because your lack of honesty and your selfishness has just jeopardized almost every relationship you have."
"But Mom ..." Katie gulped down a huge sob.
Zack hung his head. "I knew better, too, Mrs. Crenshaw. I'm as much at fault as Katie is."
"Don't think I don't know that. And don't think this is just a violation of school conduct policy. This is a violation of the trust Jim and I have put in you."
Uh-oh. He'd really done it now. Screwed up worse than he'd already figured.
"Both of you get dressed. I've changed my mind. We're going back to the amusement park. You see, it's unfair of me to leave Mrs. Gates there alone to keep up with the rest of your classmates." Katie's mom stepped back and waited for Katie and Zack to get moving. "I'll decide later about going h
ome."
"Please. Mom. I'll do anything. Don't make me drop out. Please! We've been practicing this routine so long. It's not fa ..." Katie looked down at her feet. "It's not right that I've screwed things up for the others."
"It's a little late, Katie. Now go get dressed."
Her spirits dragging the ground behind her, Katie headed toward the room. Zack followed, wondering what his own mom was going to say. One thing was for sure.
He was toast.
Chapter Eleven
Carson was fascinating to listen to.
Part of it, of course, was his voice. The deep timbre rolled over her with the warmth of a salty Gulf wave. The more passion he felt for his subject, the lower the intensity and the pitch.
He talked slowly when deep in thought, measuring the import of every word. When he was wound up, however, his excitement spilled out in a flurry of adjectives and exclamations.
He was talking about the countries he'd seen. The countries penciled into the grid he'd drawn on the pad while making himself at home at her breakfast nook table.
He could've been talking about the rusty water pipes beneath her kitchen sink and her attention would've been equally rapt. Yes, she was listening.
But her attention was less captivated by the subject than by the man. By the way he gestured with his big broad hands. And the way he formed words with the mouth that had kissed her senseless.
Senseless to be the word of the day, because it took several moments for her to realize he'd stopped speaking in English. She frowned and focused. Opened her mouth.
He cut off her thoughts before they reached her tongue. "You're not listening to a damn word I'm saying."
"I am listening." She pretended to pout, but it was hard because his eyes shone with mirth. "It's just that I don't happen to speak whatever it was you were speaking."
"Pig Latin." His shining eyes narrowed. "And you'd've noticed if you were paying any attention."
"Okay, okay." Why was she trying to fight the obvious? "So shoot me if I'm more interested in how you say what you say than what you're actually saying."
He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. His lips curved upward and she watched his ego soar. "So you like my voice."
With her chin propped in her palm, her elbow propped on the table, she nodded dreamily. "I like your mouth."
"I see," he said, and his grin gave a new dimension to the devastation he'd wreaked on her heart.
She nodded again. "I like the way you talk to me. I like the way you kiss me."
"And the way I—"
The ring of the phone cut him off.
"Hold that nasty thought," he said, and jumped up to grab the handset off the kitchen counter.
Eva didn't even think to object. At this time the night it was more than likely a telemarketer. If it was from the shop or from Zack, Carson would let her know ... otherwise, he could handle it. She was tired from the day at work behind her, tired from the night of work ahead.
And more than a little bit drowsy and dazed from Carson's mouth.
It wasn't until several moments later when she heard Carson's tone of voice drop, heard him say, "Let me talk to him," that she even bothered to lift her head from her arms crossed on the table and look his direction.
"Hey, dude. What happened?" he asked, and Eva rocketed out of her chair.
He paused. "Yeah?" He paused. "Hey, your mom's right here."
Finally. She'd been flagging him down like an Indy starter to hand her the phone.
"Okay. Okay." Still, he held the handset. "You are? Yeah, I got it," he said, ignoring Eva's insistence that he let her talk to her son.
In seconds he was going to find her work boot grinding down on the top of his broken foot. But in the same seconds, Carson said, "All right. We'll see you tomorrow. Bye." And then he hung up the phone.
She couldn't believe he'd hung up the phone! "That was Zack, right?" she demanded, knowing full well that it was. "Why didn't you let me talk to him?"
Obviously thinking she had no mind of her own, Carson took hold of her upper arm and tried to herd her back to the table. She jerked out of his reach. "What is going on? You don't have any right to keep me from my son."
Carson ran one hand down his face. "Zack's fine. He was in a hurry. He didn't want to get caught breaking curfew. He said he'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Talk to me about what tomorrow?" And then the rest of what Carson said registered. "And what do you mean curfew? I've never chaperoned a trip where kids worried about curfew. Zack included."
"He's plenty worried now."
"Since when?"
Carson's brows went up. "Since he and Katie skipped the trip to Six Flags and got caught making out in the swimming pool."
"What? What?" She couldn't think of anything else to say because her mind was filled with the picture Carson had just painted ... and with the appropriate torture she planned to inflict on her son. "I thought the whole purpose of going early was to go to Six Flags."
"Seems Katie had other ideas."
"Katie! That sneaky—"
Carson clamped a hand over her mouth before she said something she didn't really mean. "She wasn't feeling well. Or so she told her mother."
"Let me guess. She convinced Zack to stay behind knowing full well the trouble they could get into And with Zack's playoffs coming up." Eva closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. "He could she do this? Why would she do this? And Zack. How … why … what was he thinking doing something so stupid?"
"I doubt he was doing much thinking at all. Nothing about young love makes much sense."
She didn't want to hear that. She really didn't want to hear that. "What did Katie's mother say?"
"Just that she hasn't decided yet what to do since she was responsible for letting the kids stay alone. She thought it best if the two of you talk when they get back tomorrow."
"I suppose she blames Zack for this."
"Not any more than she's blaming Katie. Or herself."
Damn her dead cell phone. "You shouldn't have let him go early. This wouldn't have happened if he'd gone later tonight as originally planned."
"Uh-uh. Wait a minute." He cut her off with a hand slammed on the countertop. "Don't be blaming this on me, Eva. This ball's in Zack's court. And there's nothing more we"—he paused, ground his jaw, amended his pronoun—"nothing more you can do about it. I'm sorry it happened. But it's over now."
"No, it's not. It's not over now." This was serious enough to mar Zack's record. "He should've called me before he left. I'd've reminded him to stay out of trouble."
"And you think that would've made a difference? You don't remember much about being seventeen, do you?"
Oh, she remembered. She remembered. The memories made it easy to be mad at Zack. She didn't have trouble at all being mad at Carson. And that was trouble in itself. Because she knew she'd have let Zack go early to San Antonio, just like Carson said.
Her son had a lot to answer for.
She took a deep breath, more disappointed in her son than she'd been at any time in his life. Thoughts of placing blame battled with the logic that said Carson was right. Zack was going to have to deal with this on his own. This was a weight Eva wasn't going to be able to shoulder for him, the way she'd shouldered problems in the past, wanting to spare him hurt.
He'd lost so much, more than any child should lose so early in life. And, admittedly, she'd overcompensated, expending her emotional energy in the only outlet she had. Yes. Carson was right. Win or lose, this was Zack's ball to field.
Carson was also waiting. "Well?"
She released a heavy sigh. "Well, there's nothing I can do about it tonight."
She doubted there was much she could do with the books either considering her state of mind. Oh, wouldn't it be nice to have a big broad shoulder to lean on?
So what's stopping you?
One thing was certain. At this very moment, she wasn't anywhere close to thriving. In fact, at this very momen
t, wilted better described her state of mind and heart.
"It's late. I'm tired. And I must be getting old because it's Friday night and all I can think about is going to bed." Really, really needing that shoulder, she took a deep breath and a big leap of faith. "Would you stay?"
Carson's only answer was to hook an elbow around her neck and take her to bed.
Eva was standing behind the checkout counter in Blooms the next evening when Carson walked through the front door. He sensed her immediate relief, her immediate withdrawal, followed by a quickening of his own heart. One of these days she was going to have to do a real consolidation of her feelings.
When he'd driven up and parked the Jeep next to her minivan, he'd seen Zack working in the back of the gardens. He probably hadn't been home from San Antonio for more than an hour, but had already started in on his penance.
Carson hadn't known Zack long at all, but wasn't a bit surprised by the teen's actions. This was the boy Eva had raised, the boy whom she'd feared losing. Carson could guarantee from experience that was one thing that wouldn't happen.
He hadn't seen much of Eva today. He'd come awake in her bed this morning. She'd slept restlessly through the night, then agitated, she'd woken. He'd whispered a soft "Good morning." And she'd mumbled something about the hell of a day she had ahead.
While she'd showered, he'd made the pot of coffee for the kick she so depended on each morning. Leaving her all but one small cup, he'd scrounged for a pencil and notepad to let her know he'd see her later in the day, and left the note propped against the carafe.
Now he saw her. And now she saw him.
He knew it was close to closing time. And ... to hell with it. He locked the door behind him and flipped the sign to closed. Zack was helping a young couple out back, but there weren't any customers in the store to be seen.
Carson limped up to the counter. "You need any help finishing up?"
Eva shook her head. "I'm just waiting for Zack to make his sale. Then we're going home."
