Where the Heart Lies
Page 13
As the kiss tapered off at his gentle urging, she drew away a little, her eyes at first puzzled, then abruptly horrified. He watched as her face flushed a lovely shade of rose to clash with her hair and she jerked away from him, her body language closing up like a flower at the end of the day. “Oh God!” She covered her face. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t— I must have fallen asleep. I had just finished up and I ran across this book… I just wanted to take a quick look before leaving, but…”
Liam let his hand remain on her hair for another moment, wishing he could caress the glowing tendrils, allow them to curl about his fingers. He wasn’t used to resisting temptation, especially the temptation of beautiful women. Normally when confronted by an attraction for a woman, he’d pursue the flirtation to see where it took him. More often than not, or at least often enough, women responded well to his advances. This wasn’t necessarily a source of pride to him, but he did enjoy playing the game.
He couldn’t play that game with her. Not with Ty’s wife. Pushing away his desire, he withdrew his hand. “Shh. It’s okay. Really, I understand. Totally my fault for sneaking up on you like that.”
She hesitantly lowered her hands, her face still bright red. “I really am sorry. God, first I fall asleep on the job and then I attack you. I’m just not myself these days.”
Reluctantly, Liam straightened. “You could use a cup of coffee.” He nodded at the volume in her hands. “I always loved that one too. Mom would read Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poems to me and tell me their story. It was her version of a fairytale, I guess.”
“A fairytale.” Alicia stood and looked around at the stacks of books. “I wonder if Robert and Elizabeth saw it that way.” She stretched, her spine uncurling from the position she’d been in for the past hour.
“Looks like you got a lot accomplished.” His eyes scanned the piles of books. He sensed that if he steered the conversation to her work, she might recover more quickly from her embarrassment.
“A little. I started out at the desk, but it was easier to sit on the floor after a while.” She followed his gaze. “It really does get better. There’s a method to my madness.”
“Good.” He nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “How about that drink? You can fill me in on what you’ve found so far.”
She appeared uncertain, but then she shrugged. “Sure. The kids will be okay for another half an hour.”
* * *
Alicia didn’t notice she still clutched the poetry book until they reached the kitchen. Embarrassed yet again, she put it on the table while he fixed the coffee. Why was she hanging around, anyway? Hadn’t she humiliated herself enough for one day? She wouldn’t allow herself to remember how natural his lips had felt on hers, though she’d been dreaming, yet again, about Ty. She looked at her hands, thinking that until today, she hadn’t kissed anyone with desire since Ty.
And even now she couldn’t tell whether the desire had been roused by her memory of Ty or Liam’s touch. She couldn’t lie to herself and say she had been unconscious through the whole thing. Some part of her had known what she was doing, which made his understanding all the more humiliating.
He set a coffee cup in front of her, pausing a moment to look at the book she’d brought from his mother’s office. “You want to take that home?” His voice teased her.
She blushed again as her hand touched the leather cover. “Listen, I know you’re paying me by the hour. I had no intention of billing you for—” She stopped at his broad smile. “What?”
“Nothing.” His eyes danced with merriment. “You’re always so in control, it’s kind of fun seeing you squirm a little. But really, I didn’t mind—well, any of it. Not the kiss or the reading. It’s good to know you get distracted by the books my mother loved. It means I’ve got the right person working on them.”
“Right.” She absently caressed the spine of the book as he sat across from her. “Well, your mom had some wonderful books. There are a few that are probably valuable. I’ll check on those and let you know. I’ve found a few I’d be interested in too, if you decide to sell.”
He didn’t answer right away, studying his coffee. “I hope caffeinated is okay? I don’t keep decaf usually.”
“That’s fine. I could probably inject it directly into my veins and still sleep tonight.” She traced a finger across the fleur-de-lis design on the front of the book and stifled a yawn. “Jason’s teething.”
“Ouch.” He sat down across from her. “That must be tough—for you and him.”
“Yeah, I try to remind myself he’s going through a rough patch too. It’s a little difficult when the only place he’ll sleep at four o’clock in the morning is on my chest, though.”
“Where are the kids now?”
“Penny’s daughter is keeping them.”
“Amy.” He nodded. “You couldn’t have found a better sitter. She’s very responsible.”
“I don’t know what I’ll do when she goes off to college in the fall. I know it’s just down the road, but she’ll have so much to keep her busy. I guess Penny’s already enlisted you to keep an eye on her, though?”
He shrugged, not as if he didn’t care but as if there were more to the story than he could tell her. “I’ll keep an eye on her. It’d be hard to do anything else. I’ve known her since she was a baby.” He went to the refrigerator, pulling out the creamer and stirring another dollop into his coffee.
More to keep her hands busy than anything else, she opened the book, scanning the contents. When he returned to the table, she shut it with a snap. “This is really good coffee.”
“I usually make it a little stronger,” he said. “I didn’t want to keep you awake tonight, in spite of what you say. I’ll leave that to Jason.”
“I’m sure he’s up to the task.” She sipped the coffee and closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the feel of the rich caffeine-laden drink tracing a path to her stomach. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, wondering with a rush of discomfiture if he’d observed her casually sensual action. She bit her lip and decided not to worry about it. I’m being too sensitive.
As if to confirm this, he spoke in a normal tone. “To answer your question, I’m not really sure what I want to do with Mom’s books.”
Thrown off by his sudden change in subject, she struggled for an answer, still finding it difficult to speak normally to him. “Well, if you decide to sell any, I’ll give you a list of the volumes I’d be interested in. Did your mother intend to collect rare books?”
“She probably just bought what she enjoyed reading. We used to spend hours in used bookstores and library book sales. Jim’s store was one of her favorites. She almost never bought a new book. She said she liked to know her books had history.”
“I think I would have liked your mother.”
“She would have liked you too.” His answer was easily spoken, but then he fell silent.
After several seconds, Alicia leaned forward, concerned. “You okay?”
He set his coffee cup aside. “Yeah, just thinking about what a disappointment I was to my mom. I guess going through her books has stirred up a lot of memories for me.”
“She can’t have been that disappointed in you. I mean, you are a college professor, after all. Isn’t that one of the professions all mothers would choose for their kids if they could?” Maybe I should tell him about the journal I found.
“Right after doctor, lawyer and Indian chief.” He cleared his throat. “So tell me about some of those books you found.”
By the time she’d finished detailing the rare books and outlining her plan for cataloging them and organizing the rest of the library, it was after six o’clock. Noticing the time on the kitchen clock, she jumped up. “Oh, I’ve got to go. I told Amy I would be back by the time Jason got up from his afternoon nap.” She gathered her papers, and her hand
brushed the book of poetry. She looked at it wistfully.
“Go ahead.” Liam nodded. “I know you’ll take good care of it.”
Alicia shot him a smile and put the papers in her briefcase, cradling the book against her chest. The leather warmed her skin and she inhaled the old book scent she loved.
“You look like a high school girl holding that book like that.” He turned away for a minute. “It’s no wonder Ty was nuts about you. If you’d gone to school with us, we’d have been fighting over you.”
Alicia blushed. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t go to high school here, huh?”
“Yeah.” Liam returned his gaze to hers. “Probably so.”
She remembered the feel of his lips on hers and turned to the hallway. Though he didn’t touch her, she was very aware of him behind her on the short walk. At the door, she turned, intending to say something about returning the next day. Instead, she muttered a quick good-bye and escaped into the early evening. As she got into her car, trying not to look at the front door to see if he was still watching, she remembered what Penny had said he was like in high school.
Not that it mattered. High school was a long time ago and most of it didn’t affect you once you got out.
Most of it.
* * *
Hours later, Alicia hadn’t recovered from the evening’s events, and the look in Liam’s eyes when he’d told her she looked like a high school girl haunted her, as did the kiss they’d involuntarily shared. She sank into bed and pulled the quilt over her, but in spite of her exhaustion she couldn’t settle into sleep. She saw Liam, his eyes fixed on hers, pushing back a lock of his too-long dark hair, every time she closed her eyes. Worse, her heart ached at her betrayal of Ty’s memory as her body longed for Liam’s touch.
With a frustrated sigh, she threw the blankets back and flipped on the lights. The poetry book lay on her nightstand and she picked it up to read, thinking it might get her mind off Liam. I’m just getting over the humiliation of kissing a man in my sleep. Otherwise I’d be able to stop thinking about him.
Just as sleep began to feel within reach, the telephone rang in the kitchen. With a soft curse, she sprang from the bed and sprinted down the hall to grab it before it could wake the children.
“Hello?” Her voice came out in a pant and she tried to conceal her breathlessness by holding the receiver away from her mouth.
“Hi.”
It took her a moment to recognize the voice. “Liam?”
“Sorry, yes. Is this too late to call?”
His voice sounded odd, so she sat at the table, catching her breath. “Not for a normal person, no.”
“But for a mom of two little ones, it is.” He paused. “I shouldn’t have called. I’ll let you go.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m wide awake. I’ve just been reading your book of poetry. Your mom’s, I guess it would be.” She still held the book, her forefinger stuck in the pages to keep her place.
“My mom.”
“Is that why you’re calling?” When he didn’t reply, she added, “You found the journal.”
“Did you read it?” His voice didn’t reveal whether or not he would have minded.
“No. It was for you. I read just the first paragraph and I figured it must be too personal, so I left it on the desk.”
After several seconds of silence, he spoke. “Thank you. For the journal. That’s all I called to say, really.”
“Are you okay?” She looked again at the book.
“What were you reading?”
“Marlowe’s ‘The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.’”
“I like that one. I wrote a paper on it in school. My favorite lines were the last ones. ‘If these delights thy mind may move/then live with me and be my love.’”
An odd thought occurred to her. “Have you been drinking?”
His laugh sounded hoarse but his voice didn’t quiver. “Not yet. I admit it occurred to me, though.”
She hesitated. “But you don’t drink. “
“I don’t. I haven’t. For most of the past ten years.”
“You’re not going to, are you? Not because of the journal?” She held her breath, knowing she’d never forgive herself if she were responsible for destroying his sobriety.
“Not now.” A silence fell between them. Alicia wondered if he meant that speaking to her had somehow given him strength. Then he said, “I just didn’t…I guess I didn’t know she felt that way. She really never wanted to have a child. It was hard to read it and know I’d brought her so much pain.”
She closed her eyes. “It wasn’t all like that was it? I mean, pregnancy is an emotional time for a woman. I’m sure she must have had moments when she realized what a wonderful thing it is to bring another human into the world.”
He laughed, a hard edge to it. “Right. Yeah, there were moments, I’m sure.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding as she waited for his reply. She opened her eyes and clutched the phone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the journal would be painful for you to read. I thought maybe it might be a link to her somehow. Because I wrote one for all three of my pregnancies.”
After another silence, he said, his voice gentle, “All three?”
Her stomach clenched at the memory and she took a deep breath. “I lost a baby.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it. “Is it hard to talk about it?”
She stood and put a teabag and water into a mug. “Not anymore. It was a while ago. Before Jason.” She put the cup into the microwave and turned it on. “Ty was on his first tour in Afghanistan.” She sighed.
“That must have been very hard for you.”
She remembered the cold halls of the military base hospital, the detached doctors and clinical nurses. Other military wives and friends from their close-knit community; people who hadn’t really known what to say, but they’d been determined to be there for her. Gemma staying with a friend because she had no family nearby. And Ty’s voice on the phone when she told him, her heart breaking, that their little baby girl was gone, so quickly, in a rush of blood and tears.
“I’m sorry. That was a dumb thing to say. Of course it was hard for you.” His voice seemed to reach out through the phone line and caress her. “I don’t know how Ty could have left you,” he added, his voice husky.
She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. “Ty was heartbroken. It was probably harder for him than me. At least I was home and had Gemma. Besides, it’s not like he had a choice.” Not that time, at least. She bit the last words off, but couldn’t stop herself from thinking them.
“No, I didn’t mean that.” He sounded apologetic. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry, I just honestly can’t imagine what it would be like to leave a woman like you.”
She caught her breath. His tone was so honest, she couldn’t help herself. Her own voice cracked when she spoke lightly. “Is this why so many people keep warning me about you?”
“What, my charming ways?” She could hear his smile. “I’ll admit I’ve used them on quite a few beautiful women.”
“And you usually get your way with them?”
“I wouldn’t say usually. Sometimes. You have nothing to fear from me, though.”
“I wouldn’t say I was afraid of you. And why do I have nothing to fear from you?” With unexpected difficulty Alicia kept the flirtatious tone at bay.
“You’re Ty’s wife.” His voice fell flat between them.
“Oh.” She wished he wasn’t in such an honest mood at the moment. “Well, it’s good to know I’m safe with you.”
Her voice must have betrayed her, because he groaned. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that it doesn’t matter how attractive you are to me, it’d be pretty poor form to go after my friend’s widow.”
He laughed softly. “I’m not sure if that helps or makes it harder. I should let you go. Thanks for talking to me. That really did help.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m fine. My mom’s journal was a surprise. It was like hearing her voice again. Sometimes I’m not as good with surprises as I should be.”
“What are you going to do with it?” As soon as she’d spoken, she wished she hadn’t. “I’m sorry. That’s not a fair question. And it’s none of my business.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with it.” He evidently didn’t care if it was none of her business. “Burn it. Put it in a safe deposit box. Frame it. Throw it out with the trash. Probably I’ll just put it in my bedside table for a little light reading at night.”
“Liam, I—”
“Hush,” he said. “Go read some more Marlowe. ‘Come with me and be my love/and we will all the pleasures prove…’”
Without thinking, she quoted back to him from Sir Walter Raleigh’s “The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd.” “‘If all the world and love were young/And truth on every shepherd’s tongue/Then indeed, thee might me move/To live with thee and be thy love.’”
“If only it were a perfect world,” he agreed. “Good night, Nymph.”
“Good night, Shepherd.”
Chapter Ten
Alicia taped up the last cardboard box and straightened, looking around the store. “We’re almost ready, John.”
Her new manager, a slender young man Alicia suspected was gay, nodded, fingering the gold wire-rimmed glasses he wore and smiling at her through his goatee. “We’ve gotten a lot done in the past few days. Have you decided when you want to open up?”
Before she could reply, the front door opened, the old-fashioned bells Jim had attached long ago jingling to announce a new arrival. When Alicia spotted Liam, she fought the urge to duck behind the nearest shelf. She hadn’t spoken to him since their telephone call, though he’d left a short note and a key to the house in her mailbox, explaining that he’d be stuck in Chapel Hill for a while finishing up the semester. She’d been to his house to work for a few hours every day over the past couple of weeks, and the library was all but done.