by Lucy Kevin
Moments later, as Angelina hung up with a new consultation penciled into her calendar, all of her preconceived ideas about Susan had flown out the window. Susan certainly wasn’t the fly-by-night, ditzy blonde that she looked to be. Hidden beneath her surface perfection seemed to be a deeply intuitive heart.
Which then made Angelina wonder: If she'd been wrong about Susan, could she be wrong about Will too?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Will relaxed the minute he entered his mother’s house. Nearly every room in the small cabin looked out onto the lake, and there were memories of laughter and happiness all around him. After locking the front door to keep out any single women on the prowl, he picked up the phone and dialed Angelina’s number, but he got her voice mail again.
Not comfortable with the idea of pouring his feelings out to her voice mail, Will vowed to call her again in the morning to set things straight. He just hoped she wouldn’t hang up when she heard his voice.
He was used to getting what he wanted regardless of the obstacles in his way. But for some reason, dealing with Angelina was proving to be the most difficult test of his life.
None of his current worries, however, stopped him from having a romantic dream about her that night. He woke up at 5 am, images of her beauty, her smile, still vivid in his head. He went into the kitchen, plugged in his computer and got online hoping work would ease the ache he felt inside.
It didn't.
Will was back at the hospital at 8 a.m. sharp. His mom was already sitting up in bed and drawing in her sketchbook.
“Good morning, honey. Didn’t get much sleep last night, did you? Want to talk about it?”
At Will’s stunned look, she said with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, “I have all-seeing Mother abilities.”
Will rolled his eyes, although it was true.
“Besides,” she added, “I’ve got nothing better to do until the doctor agrees to let me go home today, so you may as well eat some of this god awful food on my tray and tell me everything.
Will laughed. He sometimes forgot how different his mother was from every other mother in the world. Spending time with her was more like hanging out with one of the guys. Well, sort of, anyway, if one of the guys was his mom.
He bit into the muffin she handed him and had to go spit it out in the bathroom sink. “I think they baked cement into it.”
“There’s gum in my purse.” Not missing a beat she pointedly asked, “So, who is she?”
Will looked up from digging in her bag for the gum.
“You have woman trouble written all over you.” Joyce folded her hands on her lap. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”
By the time Will made it to the end of his story, Joyce was worn out from holding in her laughter for so long. One day he would be able to see the humor in the situation, but right now he was too overwhelmed by what sounded to her like love at first sight.
Will’s cell phone rang and as he dealt with a corporate issue, Joyce developed a plan.
Later that day, happily settled back at home with her paints and canvas, shee sent Will off to the grocery store and put her plan into action.
She picked up the phone and dialed information. “I’d like the number for Angelina Morgan please.”
Five minutes later, Joyce called the airlines and charged one first class plane ticket to her infrequently-used credit card. She was happy that some of the money Will insisted on depositing into her saving account each month was finally being put to good use.
* * *
Angelina still wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. One minute she was being clear-headed and firm with Will’s mother—explaining how it was impossible for her to rearrange her schedule to fly to New York for a consultation and that she was happy to give her the number of an excellent consultant in New York, not mention the fact that $5000 really was far too much money to pay for her services—and the next minute she was in her bedroom packing because an airport limo was parked in her driveway.
On the drive to the airport she wondered what the real story was behind the out-of-the-blue phone call. She didn’t believe for one minute that Will’s mother desperately needed her expertise. But since it would be several more hours before she could get any answers, she tried to relax and enjoy the new experience of flying first-class.
It really was very nice, she admitted as she chose Breakfast at Tiffany’s to watch on the personal DVD player the flight attendant gave her. She couldn’t help but enjoy the gourmet meal they laid across her tray table.
Kicking out the footrest, she accepted the glass of champagne the stewardess offered her at the end of the movie and closed her eyes. Tonight would be soon enough to unravel everything. Right now she was going to concentrate on savoring this small taste of the good life.
* * *
Joyce looked up at the clock. 9 p.m.. “Honey, I’m going to turn in now.”
Will looked up from his laptop. “Do you need help with anything?”
She wheeled over to him in her on-loan wheelchair. “Just give me a kiss on the cheek and I’ll roll away.”
Will chuckled. “You’re pretty good at that thing. Where’d you learn to maneuver it so well?”
His mother winked at him. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to run over your toes.” She paused, her smile softening. “It really is nice to have you home for a few days.”
“Next time you don’t have to throw yourself off a ladder to get me here.”
Joyce was laughing as she wheeled off out of the living room, leaving Will alone with his thoughts. All day, he’d been calling Angelina, but every time her voice mail picked up.
Whenever he'd had a problem, he'd always found a good solution. But he was floored by his continuing ineptitude in dealing with Angelina.
A knock sounded on the door. He prayed that it wasn’t another young woman sent over by her parents to meet him. He opened the door slowly, expecting the worst. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Angelina?”
“Will? What's going on?”
Angelina looked even better in real life than she did in his dreams. Her clothes were slightly rumpled from the flight. Rumpled looked amazing on her.
“I’ve just flown all the way across the country and all you can do is stand there gaping at me?”
Will wasn’t sure what possessed him just then. He knew he should have had better control over his baser urges, but he just didn’t.
“I should have done this instead.” He reached for the woman he hadn't been able to stop thinking about.
And kissed her.
* * *
Angelina was so surprised by Will’s kiss that she kissed him back.
It should be illegal for anyone to kiss as well as he did, she thought. Will deepened the kiss and Angelina whimpered in response. But when Will made a low sound of pleasure deep in his throat, Angelina immediately crashed back into the real world.
She broke off the kiss and stumbled away from Will, hating the fact that he was too darn potent for her to think rationally. “Stop trying to confuse me. Tell me what’s going on right now,” she insisted, congratulating herself on her fairly poised delivery considering that she felt as put together as an unmade puzzle.
“I don't know. I have no idea why you’re here. All I know is that I’ve been calling you every hour for two straight days. You have no idea how frustrating it is when all I get is your voice mail. But now you're here, standing right in front of me.”
Angelina was stunned by his soliloquy. “You’ve been trying to contact me for two days?”
“Maybe I should have left a message, but I wanted to explain things in person.”
He wanted to explain things. It was too close to what Bryce had said to her at the end of the summer. Will had just kissed her like he'd was a dying of thirst and she was water...but when was she going to learn that passionate kisses didn't mean anything to men like them?
Trying for mature, hoping for calm, Angelina managed.
“It’s OK. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”
“I don’t?”
She pasted a cheerful smile on her face. “I understand perfectly.”
“You do?”
“Of course.”
“But...”
Angelina cut him off before he could say anything that would hurt her more. She faked a yawn.
“If I’m going to have a good consultation with your mother tomorrow morning, I’d better get some rest.”
“My mother called you?”
Angelina stared at him in disbelief.
CHAPTER NINE
Judging by the closed, wounded look on Angelina’s face, he knew she wouldn’t believe him if he told her the truth. Frankly, he was having a hard time believing what his mother had done. She was worse than any of the other scheming mothers he’d encountered during the past twenty-four hours.
Was it wrong to be so pleased by her meddling?
“I hate to tell you this, but there’s only one spare bedroom.”
A look of utter disbelief and exhaustion settled over Angelina’s face.
Will cleared his throat and jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wanted to reach out for Angelina to comfort her, but something told him his touch wouldn't be welcome. Not when she was so clearly upset with both him and his mother.
“I’m going to grab my stuff right now and clear out so you can have it.”
He groaned inwardly, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to get any sleep on the couch in the living room, with Angelina just a wall away. As it was he was fighting the urge to pull her back into his arms.
How could it be that in weeks he had gone from being perfectly sane and in charge of his life to losing control over everything?
Right now, his only chance at temporary sanity was to dunk himself into the cold lake water.
* * *
It only took Will five minutes to pack up his things, but Angelina swore it took an hour. He must know his effect on her. She was absolutely certain he was deliberately torturing her.
When he finally said, “Goodnight,” without turning to face her, then shut the door behind him, Angelina fell onto the bed gasping for air. She had been holding her breath while Will was in the bedroom with her. Within seconds, a bone deep exhaustion hit her, and she couldn't even muster up the energy to brush her teeth or take off her clothes.
She woke up at midnight, momentarily disoriented before she remembered where she was. In New York. At Will’s mother’s house.
His scent was all over the sheets and the pillowcase. It was self-torture laying there, breathing him in, having no choice but to relive the sweetness of his kisses.
She sat up in bed and brushed the hair away from her face. Maybe a walk in the brisk night air would help to clear her mind. Stripping off her horribly wrinkled clothes, she rummaged around in her luggage for a pair of jeans. She slipped them on along with a hooded sweatshirt.
A door from her room led out to the lake. She stepped out onto the deck and the moonlit view took her breath away.
She would never grow tired of the vision of still water at night with the moon’s reflection upon it. For a moment, she felt a deep sense of peace.
Angelina stepped onto the sand, which was cool and damp beneath her toes, ready to feel the water lapping against her legs. But when she heard a splash she stopped dead in her tracks, before moving to hide behind the thick tree trunk to her right.
What was Will doing out swimming in the middle of the night?
Afraid to even breathe for fear he might discover her spying, she remained standing behind the tree, gaping as he rose up out of the lake. Even though she could see that he was wearing swim trunks, he was still so physically beautiful just looking at him took her breath away.
When she inadvertently gasped, she clamped a hand over her mouth, praying he hadn’t heard her gasp.
No such luck. Will stopped his progression out of the water. “Is someone out there?”
Angelina forced herself not to act like a coward. Stepping around the tree trunk, she said, “I just came outside for some air. I’ll go back in now so you can finish your swim in privacy.”
He called out, “Come in the water. It feels great.”
She had no idea her heart could race so fast. She was so tempted—more tempted than she should have been.
“No, I can’t do that.”
“There's nothing like a midnight swim beneath a full moon,” he told her in a gentle voice that resonated all the way through her.
The picture he painted was tempting. Incredibly so. She could see it all play out in her head –she'd join him in the water and then they'd end up kissing again...or more.
And then she'd hate herself in the morning.
Still, she had to force herself to say, “Good night, Will,” and turn back toward the cabin.
Back in the bedroom, Angelina stared at the four walls until she began to notice all of the cute touches in the cabin she hadn’t seen earlier that night. The walls and the ceiling were beautiful pickled pine. The room was bright and clean, yet warm and relaxed at the same time. Will’s mother had a natural gift for balance and comfort.
And above the bed hung one of the most beautiful paintings Angelina had ever seen.
A man and a woman were entwined on the sand. Love radiated out from them.
It was exactly the kind of love she longed for...and feared she'd never find.
CHAPTER TEN
Will was already up and staring blankly at his laptop when his mother came rolling into the kitchen looking worlds better than she had the previous day. Joyce whirled around in her wheelchair and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Angelina get here all right?”
“She certainly did.” Will looked accusingly at his mother. “And what a surprise her arrival was.”
“Don’t you take that tone of voice with me, young man. If I want to hire a Feng Shui expert, I’ll damn well do it.”
Will had to work to fight back a grin. “If that’s your version of the tough-mom routine, it needs a little work.”
Joyce chuckled. “I thought the ‘damn’ added a nice dramatic flair.”
Right then, Angelina walked out of the guest bedroom and Will momentarily forgot his mother was even in the room. Angelina looked more gorgeous than ever.
But while he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, she didn’t even seem to know he was in the room as she rushed over and clasped his mother’s hands in hers.
“Joyce, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise, my dear. I hope your trip wasn’t too tiring.”
Angelina paused and then murmured something about it being fine. “How are you feeling this morning?” She regarded Joyce’s wheelchair and cast sympathetically.
“Not too well I’m afraid,” Joyce responded, forcing her eyes away from Angelina’s sharp gaze, lest she give away her game.
Will’s eyes shot to his mother’s face. He thought about calling her bluff, but she was having such a good time trying out her new acting skills, he let it go.
“Honey,” Joyce said, turning to Will, “Margie is expecting you to go over right now to pick up some treats she made.”
“But Mom,” he complained, sounding less like a full-grown CEO and more like a little boy who wasn’t getting his way, “all of her daughters were over here yesterday dropping off food. What else could they have possibly made for us between now and then?”
Joyce shooed him out of the kitchen, deftly using her wheelchair to get him moving towards the front door. “And remember, dear, be nice to all of her lovely girls. I’m sure they’ll want to have a good long chat with you since you were too busy to talk yesterday.”
After he closed the door behind him, Joyce wheeled back into the kitchen.
“Sit down dear and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
Angelina just wanted to get the consultation over and done with, but she knew when she was beat, so she dutifully
took a seat.
She sat quietly at the kitchen table while Joyce boiled the water. Even with Will's mother confined to a wheelchair, Angelina had a feeling she was barely going to be able to keep up with her.
Joyce handed her a steaming cup of Chamomile tea. “I hope you don’t mind how insistent I was about having you come out to New York to meet with me.”
Angelina wasn’t sure how to respond. The truth was, she did mind. Not because she had anything against Will’s mother, but because she couldn’t handle being this close to her son.
Joyce waved away any answer she might have come up with. “Frankly, it’s not me that I’m worried about, it’s Will.”
Angelina was thankful she’d just swallowed her mouthful of tea. Otherwise she would have spit it out.
“I think you need to know about his father.”
“Joyce, I think we should be focusing on you if we’re going to -” she began, but Will’s mom cut her off.
“When Will was young he idolized his father, Howard. You should have seen them—wherever Howard was, you were sure to find Will. If Howard was building something, Will had his toy hammer out and was pounding on blocks. He was five years old when his father left without saying goodbye.”
“Before Howard left, Will was carefree, happy. He loved to paint with his fingers any and everywhere. I should know,” she said, chuckling softly. “I spent hours cleaning finger paint off of the walls and the furniture.” Too quickly, the smile fell from her face. “Overnight, Will stopped being a child. He shouldered the burden that his father left as the man of the house. It was as if he felt that it was up to him to support us both. No matter how much I tried to let him know that I could take care of us, he has always felt responsible for me.”
Joyce continued, looking up at Angelina, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. “The worst thing of all, though, was when he told me he was never going to have children of his own.”
“Why would he say a thing like that?” Angelina asked.
