by Debra Webb
And now his mother laid another guilt trip on him, a grandchild. How was he supposed to accomplish that monumental task? Well, he knew how to do it. That wasn’t the problem. Marriage usually came before kids, and Zach had no intention of getting married at this stage in his life. Therein lay the point at issue. He liked his life just as it was. He’d made the decision long ago, and it was too late to change his mind now. Though he loved women, and definitely enjoyed his share, there was no one he wanted to spend his life with.
Well…no one that he could have anyway.
It was just too late.
The sound of footfalls echoing his own registered in his awareness about three seconds before he collided with a warm, decidedly feminine, body.
Their arms and legs tangled. He instinctively rolled to catch the brunt of the fall as they plunged toward the ground. His left shoulder hit the ground first, her slight weight slamming into his midsection as he flattened firmly against the grass. The added force sent the air rushing out of his lungs on an audible grunt.
“Are you all right?”
It was Beth. She was suddenly hovering over him. The last of the setting sun’s light silhouetting her profile, giving her image a surreal quality. Zach blinked, uncertain as to whether she was real or if he’d somehow conjured her up. He shook his head and started to sit up. A sharp jab of pain in his shoulder startled a groan from him.
“Don’t move.”
“I’m okay,” he snapped, irritated with himself for not paying better attention. He pushed to a sitting position, ignoring his body’s protest.
“Let me have a look,” she said, her voice still soft, but her tone firmer.
He swept the hair back from his face with his right hand and nodded in acquiescence. Why the hell not complete his humiliation? The feel of her warm, soft fingers on his skin as she carefully dragged his T-shirt up and then off almost toppled his already unsteady composure and chased away all other thought. She leaned closer, the brush of her breasts teasing his skin.
He was in trouble.
“Does this hurt?” She gently probed his back a few inches below his shoulder.
“No,” he replied, the word clipped with the tension rocketing through him.
Her fingers moved higher. He winced, then snapped again, “I’m fine, really.”
“Of course you are.” She probed deeper. He clenched his jaw to prevent another groan from escaping. “Just bruised, I think.” She finally offered his T-shirt back.
“So, I’ll live?” He started to tug his shirt on but reconsidered when the move sent another searing throb through his shoulder.
“You’ll live.”
He stood and held out his right hand to assist her. “You’re not hurt?”
She peered up at him, searching his eyes far too closely. “Nope. You saw to that.”
He shrugged his good shoulder. “I guess I was distracted. I didn’t see you coming. Taking the brunt of the fall was the least I could do.”
“I didn’t see you either.” She grinned sheepishly. “Maybe we need a yield sign at the intersection of these two paths.”
Damn, she looked good. The running shorts displayed those shapely thighs…making his mouth go suddenly dry. The cropped tank top showcased more than it concealed. The silky skin of her midriff made him yearn to touch her. But it was the way the material clung to her breasts that did him in. He didn’t want to stare, but he just couldn’t help himself.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, drawing his attention to her pretty face. “You look a little shaken.”
Shaken? Oh yeah, he was definitely shaken. Long wisps of honey-colored hair had worked loose from her ponytail and now clung to her slender throat. She licked those lush lips and something lurched inside him. It was all he could do not to reach out for her.
“Well,” she said when he failed to respond, “I’ll try to watch where I’m going in the future.”
“Me, too,” he mumbled. His gaze connected with hers and need seared straight through him, leaving him weak with want.
She stepped nearer, worry marring her features as she studied him more closely. “Maybe I’ll just walk back to the house with you.”
“I’m fine, really,” he repeated.
Something distinctly sexual glittered in those deep chocolate-brown depths. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” she suggested in a voice husky with what sounded like desire. She slid her arm around his waist. “Just lean on me and I’ll take good care of you.” She smiled up at him. “After all, I am a doctor. I probably know more about you than you know about yourself.”
He was definitely in trouble.
Chapter Five
Beth surveyed the living room of the cottage to make sure her mother was not in the room, then promptly slammed the front door behind her and stamped her foot with the fury she could no longer contain. Never in her entire life had she been so angry. Zach had blown her off yet again.
Halfway to his house he’d insisted that he was fine and could make it the rest of the way without any help. She had known perfectly well he didn’t need her help. She’d planned on laying on a little more temptation, then maybe…
And he’d dismissed her as if she were twelve and too young to be alone in the house with him. Thursday was Mrs. Ashton’s night out with Mr. Winthrop. Beth had all but done a little victory dance at the good fortune of the timing. She could play doctor examining his shoulder again, one thing would likely lead to another and they’d wind up in his room…in his bed. Beth swallowed tightly at the images summoned by that thought. The memory of watching his every move through the binoculars, the towel dropping, the perfection of his male body joined her kaleidoscope of memories. In spite of her fury, her body responded instantly. Her pulse tripped, her heart pounded, her skin heated.
She sighed a defeated sound as she threaded her fingers through her disheveled hair, loosening it the rest of the way from its confines. Why did he always push her away? What was it about her that made him back off each time they got close? She wasn’t his sister. They weren’t related at all. And she was well past the age of consent. Why couldn’t he just let it happen? She was a woman, he was a man, end of subject.
Tossing aside the clip that had held her hair she trudged off in the direction of the kitchen. Maybe dinner and quality time with her mom would take her mind off Zach and his infuriating hang-up where she was concerned. Beth hoped that her mother and Mrs. Ashton had made amends by now. On the rare occasions when there was a dispute, the two had never stayed angry with each other for more than a few hours. Considering their ages and Mrs. Ashton’s recent health problems now was not the time to start. Not to mention it would take the birthday party worries off Beth’s back. She didn’t even want to think about that. But she would have to, and very soon.
Exiling thoughts of Zach and Mrs. Ashton for the time being, she focused on finding her mother. The empty kitchen drew the corners of Beth’s mouth downward. Helen hadn’t said anything about going out. Her car was outside. A sniffling sound drew Beth’s attention toward the laundry room door. Her sneakers silent on the stone floor she made her way across the room, then hesitated in the partially open doorway. Her mother was sorting laundry—Beth’s laundry.
“Mom, I was going to do that,” she protested.
Helen spun around, clearly startled. She blinked, then smiled, quickly swiping her damp cheeks. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were home.”
Beth grabbed a wad of colored clothing and started to layer it into the washing machine. She struggled to remain calm when she wanted desperately to demand an explanation of why her mother was crying, but that tactic would get her nowhere.
“I don’t mind doing your laundry,” Helen offered, her tone too chipper. “Your father and I waited a very long time to have you, and now you’re all grown up. Doing little things like this for you makes me feel needed.”
“Mom!” Her words squeezed Beth’s heart. She grabbed her mother’s arm and forced her to
stop sorting and look directly at her. “Of course you’re needed. Why would you say such a thing?”
“Don’t overreact, dear,” Helen scolded affectionately. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I just meant that I enjoy doing things for you.”
Beth wasn’t convinced. She braced her hands on her hips and searched her mother’s eyes, which were still a little red and suspiciously bright. “You’re not acting like yourself,” she accused gently. “Does this have anything to do with the falling out between you and Colleen?”
Helen trained her attention back on the mounds of sorted clothing. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about that.”
Exasperated, Beth placed one hand over her mother’s, stilling her movements. “I wish you’d confide in me. I can’t bear seeing you like this and not being able to do anything.”
Helen settled a somber gaze on hers. “You shouldn’t dwell on it. There’s nothing you can do. Unless Colleen has a change of heart, there’s nothing anyone can do.” She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ll simply have to live with it.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” Beth argued. “Why would you have to live with whatever it is? It’s a free country, Mother, you can do whatever you feel is right.”
“I made a promise that I can’t break.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Her mother leaned against the dryer as if she suddenly felt too tired to support her own weight. “Does it matter? There are some things that are bigger than you are and you can only pray that the decision you make is the right one.”
Beth suppressed the urge to shake her head. “What could possibly be that big?”
Helen turned back to the chore at hand. “I think after I finish this laundry I’ll make a nice salad for our dinner. With shredded ham and all your other favorites.”
Beth admitted defeat. She wasn’t going to get her mother to confide in her, that was crystal clear. But she had to find a way to get the two older women to reach some sort of understanding and make amends. Things just couldn’t go on this way. But Beth couldn’t do this alone, she would need help.
Zach’s help.
She would simply have to set her seduction plan aside until they figured out this thing between their mothers. Beth had waited this long to have him, a few more days wouldn’t hurt her.
ZACH WASHED his second sandwich down with a tall glass of cold milk. He wiped his mouth and set the glass on the counter. He felt better already. His shoulder still hurt like hell, but at least he could think straight again. It was amazing how much better a guy could think on a full stomach. Smoothing a hand over his abdomen he admitted the truth of the matter. His temporary loss of equilibrium had nothing to do with food or the lack thereof. Beth had knocked him off his feet, literally and figuratively. He’d been dazed for a few minutes there, unable to focus on anything but her nearness. Not even the slickest legal opponent he’d faced in his career had ever shaken him like that, and certainly no other woman had confused him so.
Luckily he’d regained his senses before they were inside the house together…alone. That would surely have proven disastrous. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. Whatever was going on in Beth’s pretty little head he wasn’t going to be a party to it…if he could help it. Many more let’s-get-physical episodes like this latest one and he might not be able to control himself. Right now he needed a hot shower to soothe his bruised muscles. All he had to do was figure out a way to block thoughts of Beth.
Yeah, right.
She was like an intriguing case, he couldn’t keep his mind off her.
A loud rap at the kitchen door stalled him halfway across the room. Surely Beth hadn’t come to check up on him. He wasn’t ready for another tension-filled confrontation with her. And he damned sure wasn’t ready to play doctor. But his mother wouldn’t be back for a couple more hours, who else could it be?
Resigned to the inevitable, Zach made his way to the door. He hesitated for a moment, considering that he still wore the running shorts…and nothing else. He hadn’t showered since he’d opted to eat first. He definitely needed a shave. His appearance had gone to hell since arriving, but then, that was the point of a vacation, wasn’t it? Kick back, no suits and ties. Besides, he was trying to ward Beth off not lure her in.
Satisfied with his rationale he opened the door. His gaze connected with her worried brown eyes then instinctively slid down her body. She was still wearing her running attire as well. The barely-there tank top still molded to her breasts…the shorts showed off those gorgeous legs just the way he remembered. His gaze traveled back up the length of her. But now her hair was down, hanging around her slender shoulders like silky wisps of spun gold. He tried to swallow but couldn’t manage the task.
“We have to talk,” she deadpanned.
“You’re right,” he said huskily. “We do need to…talk.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside, inviting her into the house. The empty house. His next breath fell short of reaching his lungs. Get ahold of yourself, man, he ordered. This is Beth. She’s practically your sister. And she picked another man to be her husband. She didn’t wait for you. A prick of ire needled him with that last thought.
He closed the door and faced her. She was inspecting him as thoroughly as he had her only seconds before. His body tensed beneath her deliberate survey, each muscle hardening. His good intentions were going south fast.
“You said we needed to talk.” He leaned against the nearest counter and crossed his arms over his chest since her visual examination seemed to have stalled there.
Her gaze snapped up to his and she blinked. “I found my mother crying a few minutes ago,” she told him, her tone a little unsteady.
A new kind of tension trickled through him. “Is she ill?” The image of the woman who’d been like a second mother to him flashed through his mind. Helen McCormick was family. Beth was family. Somehow he had to get all this other stuff into perspective. If there was anything Helen needed he would move heaven and earth to see that she got it.
Beth shook her head. “Physically she’s fine. It’s her emotional well-being I’m concerned about.” She folded her arms over her breasts. The breasts he wanted so to touch. Zach cursed himself silently. He would not treat Beth like a sex object. She wasn’t like the women he dated in Chicago…she was…
Dammit, he was supposed to be concentrating on Helen’s situation. “What happened?” He wanted to reach out to Beth, to offer her a comforting hand, but he was afraid if he touched her he’d do something truly stupid. “Tell me exactly what happened,” he urged.
“It’s this standoff between our mothers.” She stared directly at him, her eyes relaying the depth of her worry. “I don’t know what’s going on between them, but it’s not a simple misunderstanding. This is big, Zach. Big enough to destroy what they’ve had together for more than forty years.”
He frowned at that idea. He couldn’t imagine his mother turning her back on her oldest and dearest friend. Surely the tiff would blow over. “Did Helen say that?”
“That’s just it. She won’t say anything other than she made a promise and she can’t break it. She did tell me that there was something that needed to be said, but that only your mother could do the saying.”
Zach tried to reassure her with his eyes since touching her wasn’t a good idea. “I’ll talk to my mother and get this straightened out. I’m sure I can make her see reason.”
Beth sighed. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. I’m afraid it’s going to take some major interference on our part to resolve whatever this is.”
A grin tickled his lips. Unable to hold it back, the gesture spread across his face. “Are you suggesting that we manipulate our mothers?”
She lifted her chin a notch in defiance of his censuring tone, jest or not. “I’m suggesting that we do whatever it takes. Considering your mother’s heart attack, and both their ages, I say we’d be foolish not to intervene.”
There was no denying those
two facts. “Agreed,” he allowed with a hint of reservation. He didn’t like the idea of interfering in his mother’s life any more than he would appreciate her meddling in his.
“You don’t sound so sure.”
He inclined his head and studied her more closely. “Let’s just say I like to keep my options open. But I do agree that we should do something.”
She nodded once. “Good. That’s settled then. We’ll each give it some thought and then we’ll discuss it further tomorrow.”
“Fine.” When she lingered, her gaze once more tracing his frame, he added, “Was there something else you wanted to say?”
Those dark, chocolate-colored eyes were frank and determined when they met his again. She wanted to do more than talk. He tensed, resisting the urge to grab her and drag her upstairs before she could say a word.
“Just one more thing.” She moved a step closer, sending his tension to a new level. “I’ve tried to make it clear, but subtlety isn’t going to work with you. So, I’ll just say it so there’s no misunderstanding…. I want to have an affair with you.”
Stunned didn’t begin to describe the impact her statement had. “You want to what?” he said hoarsely.
Zach looked as startled as Beth felt. Had she really said that? Dear God, she had. It was too late to take it back now. She squared her shoulders and stared at his handsome face, avoiding eye contact. “I said, I want to have an affair with you. Do you have a problem with that?”
A kind of shock captured his features. “I need a drink.” He bolted for the door.
Her fury igniting all over again, Beth followed him to the parlor. He rounded the bar and prowled through the bottles until he found what he was looking for.
He poured a healthy serving of whiskey into a glass and offered it to her, but didn’t make eye contact. She declined with a shake of her head, which he must have noted in his peripheral vision because he sure wouldn’t look directly at her. He downed the liquor in one swallow and set the glass aside with a heavy thwack.
