by Jan Freed
Like it or not, Jack would see Sarah almost daily for the next four months. If he’d acted on his powerful attraction, he might’ve given some hint of their changed relationship at school. And wouldn’t that have been great for his reputation? Talk about professional suicide!
The eyes in the mirror looked back with stark honesty. Maybe so, pal...but what a way to go.
For a minute he dropped all pretense of indifference and remembered how she’d felt in his arms. Her Lolita act had deserved a standing ovation, and part of him had sure as hell shouted bravo. Later, Sarah had tapped into something deeper than lust. A loneliness he hadn’t realized existed until she’d climbed aboard his dream and encouraged him to hoist sail and head for the stars.
Warmed by the memory, he scooped up his wristwatch and fastened it slowly. During the past week, she’d even taken Kate under her wing, steering her clear of Bruce and easing Jack’s mind and heart yet again. If only she weren’t serious about this Mark character...
If only. The story of Jack’s life. His gaze moved to the framed picture of his smiling father, a loving arm slung around a laughing young man. Cocky and carefree. Off to USC in five months...
If only the last words his dad had said weren’t, “Promise you’ll take care of your mother and baby brother or sister. I’m counting on you, son.”
Sighing, Jack walked into his private bathroom. His final purchase the day before had been an impulse buy from the men’s cologne counter. Dashing a little liquid gold on each palm now, he patted his cheeks and sniffed. It didn’t smell forty dollars better than Old Spice to him. But hell, he liked the scent of peaches better than designer perfume. What did he know?
“Don’t answer that,” he told his reflection, then headed for the hallway. Donna would arrive any minute. She’d had to work late and had suggested meeting him here. It was closer than her condo to downtown, and the saved time would let them squeeze in an early dinner.
When he walked into the living room, the scene was surprisingly peaceful. His mother sat in her flowered chintz armchair crocheting her millionth afghan; Kate lay sprawled on the blue couch watching a loud sitcom on TV. Both of them looked up at the same time.
“Oh, my,” his mother said, her crochet hook still, her hazel eyes full of startled pride.
Kate closed her gaping mouth and emitted a long low wolf whistle.
Maybe the bucks had been worth it, Jack admitted, his face heating. He walked self-consciously to the coffee table and its stacked newspapers.
Vera Morgan laid her afghan on the floor. “Let me just get the camera....” She struggled to rise.
“No.” Jack and Kate said simultaneously, startling their mother into plopping back down.
“Well, you don’t have to shout,” Vera said, her expression wounded. “It’s not a crime to want a picture of my handsome son, is it?”
“Lookin’ very fine, brother,” Kate agreed, grinning. “I can almost see what the girls at school gush about.”
Jack wasn’t a vain man, but he was human. He picked up the business section. “They gush?” he asked casually, scanning the front-page articles.
“Oh, yeah,” Kate said. “According to them, you’re too strict, too hard, too mean, too uptight—” she met his chagrined gaze above the newspaper “—too fine, too hunky, too buff, too fly.” Sitting upright, she laughed and smoothed her mussed hair. “If you ever relaxed a little, I’d have to go to another school. I couldn’t stand for all the gushing to be good. I’d throw up.”
“Your brother has a fine reputation, Kate,” Vera scolded. “You should worry more about what people say about you, hanging around that awful boy, dressing like you have no decent clothes, using drugs for goodness sake—”
“All right, Mom, I get the picture.” The teasing sparkle had vanished from Kate’s eyes, twisting Jack’s heart.
He turned to his mother in exasperation. “Mrs. Dent told me only yesterday she’s noticed a big improvement in Kate’s attitude.” He laid down the newspaper and glanced at his sister. “I meant to tell you, Kate.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the bone.” Her stony gaze turned to their mother. “Do you think maybe for tonight you could act like you’re not ashamed of me?”
Vera looked stricken. “Kate, I’m not ashamed—”
“We’ll be in my room most of the time, so you won’t be put out too much.”
“Who’s we?” Jack asked warily. “Is someone coming over?”
His mother shot him a surprised glance. “You don’t know? Kate said you gave her permission to have a friend over.”
As one, Jack and his mother looked at Kate.
She picked at a circle of worn threads on the couch cushion. “You said I couldn’t go out with my friends. You never said they couldn’t come in to see me.”
As one, Kate and his mother looked expectantly at Jack.
Well, hell, now what?
The doorbell rang.
Kate sprang up to answer it, no doubt sensing. a reprieve.
Jack decided to let her manipulation slide. He didn’t have the energy or the time right now to deal with it. Which, of course, was exactly what she’d planned.
“Be careful on the road,” his mother said. Her subtle way of telling him she had no intention of greeting Donna. The two had talked on several occasions about Kate’s behavior. No love lost there.
“I’ll be careful. Good night, Mother.” He headed for the small foyer just out of sight and arrived as Kate flung open the donor.
“Hi, Ms. Kaiser,” Kate said politely. “Come on in. Jack’s right here.”
Lovely in a slate blue dress that matched her eyes, Donna stepped into the small foyer.
“Hey,” Kate said to someone behind the tall elegant redhead.
“Hi,” a feminine contralto voice answered.
Jack’s smile of greeting faltered. One word, but he knew. Sarah? This was Kate’s “friend”? No, say it ain’t so.
But it was. Sarah moved into view, wearing tight jeans riding low on her curvy hips, and a tight purple T-shirt stopping inches short of her jeans. Her rumpled “outrageous red” hair glowed beneath the overhead entry light, stealing the show from Donna’s auburn shoulder-length waves.
Why was Sarah here? Could he never get away from her? It took Jack a minute to realize he wasn’t the only one speechless.
Sarah and. Donna were staring at him in a way that said the bucks had definitely been worth it.
Standing nearby, Kate snorted. “Then again, some of them don’t gush at all. They just swallow their tongues.”
Donna smiled; her eyes soft with approval. “You look wonderful, Jack.”
She was his date. He owed her his attention. “Thank you. And you look beautiful, as always. No problems finding the house?”
“No. Your directions were very clear. And Sarina’s a good navigator.”
“Really?” Jack finally allowed himself to look into jewel-bright eyes, ignoring the kick to his heart. “Hello, Sarina. I didn’t realize you were coming over tonight.” What gives? he asked silently.
Play along, her gaze pleaded, the next instant flashing teasingly at Kate. “Blame your sister, Mr. Morgan. Here I was trying to keep the school from knowing Donna’s my cousin, and darned if she didn’t answer my phone when Kate called this evening. She recognized Donna’s voice right off.”
“Hey, you gave me the unlisted number,” Kate protested. “You said I could call.”
“And I meant it. Really. I’m glad you called.”
Donna spoke up. “I’d stopped by to change clothes since Sarina lives so close to school. Once the cat was out of the bag, we thought this might work out well. Now Sarina can drive my car home...if you don’t mind taking me to Gram’s house after the play.”
“No, of course not.” He frowned meaningfully. “But should Sarina be driving alone at night?”
“She really wanted to get out of the house, Jack.”
“Yo, Mr. Morgan, Donna. You’re not my par
ents.” Sarah’s chin was up. A bad sign. “I’ll leave by ten and be tucked in bed safe and sound by eleven.”
Kate giggled.
Jack’s gaze lowered to the strip of pale skin beneath her skimpy T-shirt, then focused on the belly button peeking above her jeans snap. A sexy little “innie” that prompted a sudden image of Sarah tucked in bed. And she wasn’t wearing a long pink flannel nightgown.
“Hey, Sarah. Want a Coke?” Kate asked, yanking Jack’s gaze and thoughts to safer areas. “I think we might have Diet Dr Pepper and Sprite, too.”
“Diet Dr Pepper? Yeah, that sounds great.”
“Follow me. The kitchen’s right ahead. G‘night, Ms. Kaiser. Night, Jack.” Her gaze turned wickedly mischievous. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Tossing her long dark hair. she got while the gettin’ was good.
Sarah started to follow, paused, then looked over her shoulder at Donna. “I’ll be careful,” she said softly. “You two have a good time, okay?”
Donna smiled brilliantly. “We will. I’ll use my second set of car keys, so don’t wait up.”
Sarah nodded, her gaze moving to Jack a lingering instant. His stomach tightened. Then she turned and walked after his sister.
Had he imagined that wisp of longing in her eyes?
“We probably should be leaving,” Donna suggested.
“Hmm? Oh, right. Sure you wouldn’t like a drink before we leave?”
“No thanks. Maybe some wine when we get to the restaurant. Or...after the play?”
Most men would’ve killed to hear that subtle invitation. Smiling noncommittally, Jack waved her first through the front door:
Helluva thing, to leave the house with a beautiful woman for a romantic date, yet want to turn around and go back inside to the kitchen for a Coke.
CHAPTER NINE
TRUE TO HER WORD, Sarah said good-night to Kate and left the Morgan’s house by ten o’clock. By ten-thirty, she was walking up the stone pathway to the Kaiser guest house. By eleven, she. was tucked in bed like a good little girl. Safe—but far from sound.
Her body rigid, her gaze fixed blindly on the ceiling fan humming above, she replayed those first few minutes in the foyer over...and over...in her head. She didn’t know which image made her more miserable.
The one of Jack, stepping off the pages of GQ magazine with a virility no narcissist male model could fake. Or Donna, his beautiful perfect Vogue match. Or herself, looking tacky and feeling like a selfish petty little worm.
Seeing them together had made her writhe on a barbed hook of jealousy. Slipping off to extend a civil goodbye to the couple had nearly ripped out her guts. But she’d done it. Then made the mistake of sneaking a final glance over her shoulder just as Jack had ushered Donna out the door. The sight of his big hand splayed on her lower back had promptly rethreaded Sarah on the hook. And there was no one to blame but herself.
Donna had warned against leaving the guest house. But no-o-o, Sarah couldn’t stay put. So here she lay squirming, victim of her own stupidity and stubbornness.
Rising on one elbow, Sarah punched her pillow into a new shape, fell back, twisted this way and that, rose and punched some more. She finally settled down with a huff and glared at the whirring blur of motion above her head.
She’d been so curious about the household Jack headed on tax forms and in fact. So curious about the mother who’d abdicated responsibility for Kate. So curious about the place where he’d pursued big dreams in solitude. Where he’d created fictional worlds that transformed his usual sternness to impassioned animation. She’d been curious, and so very eager for any excuse to see him again.
In her defense, which she found herself needing desperately, she’d also responded to the restless boredom in Kate’s voice when she’d called. A dangerous mood for an “imprisoned” teenager. The kind of mind-set that might’ve sent her crawling out a window to seek excitement.
The same kind of rebellion against confinement that had made Sarah reckless enough to accept Kate’s invitation. Allowing her to see Donna and Jack together. The perfect couple.
Back full circle to the foyer scene. As repetitious as the turning fan blades. Think about something. else, Sarah commanded herself, and Vera Morgan popped into mind. Scary, but diverting.
Talk about a piece of work! She’d come into the kitchen after Jack and Donna had left and immediately found fault with everything Kate did.
Use the good glasses for company, not the plastic Astrodome cups. Refill the ice trays. Don’t leave the cans on the counter. Watch out, you’re spilling it! Honestly, Kate, why can’t you be more careful?
Sarah had bitten her tongue to keep from interfering. It would only have embarrassed the girl more. To turn the woman’s attention away from her daughter, Sarah had commented admiringly on the counter full of baked goods.
Five minutes later she was sampling a plateful of treats. Heavenly. Truly outstanding. She refused to dwell now on why she’d pigged out when normally she exercised restraint. She would think, not about the foyer scene, but about the way her genuine praise had transformed Vera’s irritated expression into one of delight. She’d spoken of experimental recipes as if they were beloved children.
Remembering, Sarah’s heart ached for Kate, who hadn’t received a loving word all night.
Wait...was that a car door slamming? Sarah strained in the dark to listen. Were those faint voices? Oh, hell, she couldn’t hear. She’d parked Donna’s car in the driveway outside the security gates a good distance from the guest house.
It was too early for them to be back, wasn’t it? Unless Jack had driven her straight here from the theater. No, they were probably extending the evening at some romantic club, or hotel bar...or hotel room....
Aaargh! If she stared at the ceiling another second, she’d go crazy. A cup of herbal tea might ease her restlessness. Yeah, that would do the trick.
She tossed back the covers, marched across the plush carpet and jerked open the bedroom door. Shadowy shapes in various sizes filled the dark living area. Her big toe unerringly found the end table as she passed by. Cursing, she hobbled toward the kitchen light switch.
A nice hot cup of tea. Just the thing to take her mind off car doors—What was that? Dammit, she was tired of safe walls and dangerous thoughts, outrageous red hair and nice hot tea, Jack’s hands on Donna....
Veering away, she snatched her jacket off a bar stool and limped to the front door. She couldn’t take the waiting another minute!
A breath of fresh air. That was what she needed. A brisk walk to clear her head of all these unwanted thoughts. She opened the door, slipped through, then eased it oh-so-carefully shut. No sense disturbing the elderly Mrs. Kaiser. Or Jack and Donna, if they were in the driveway. She would keep well away from that area.
Brrr. She yanked on her jacket and hugged her arms. Stars glittered against an inky backdrop; the sharp air bit deep in her lungs. Standing on the small porch, her bare feet shifting on the frigid concrete, she considered going back inside.
The sound of deep laughter rolled across the landscaped grounds to her porch.
Sarah moved toward the source, heedless of the rough stone walkway, the cold prickle of dead St. Augustine grass. Suddenly she was near the electronic driveway gate. She ducked out of sight behind the adjacent evergreen ligustrum bushes.
Déjà vu. She’d done this once before. Skulked behind bushes and watched two figures in the night. Then, she’d been gripped by horror and fear. Now, she battled a complex mix of guilt, jealousy and dread.
Jack and Donna stood by her parked car on the other side of the gate. Her bottom pressed against the passenger door. Her torso leaned slightly forward. Jack faced her a step away, one hand in his pocket, his stance relaxed. Their voices were low. The words indistinguishable. The tone hushed. And intimate.
They were building up to a good-night kiss. Observing date protocol with a little conversation first. A few soft smiles. Innocent touches. Laughing softly, Donna reached out and gav
e his lapel a flirtatious tweak.
In that moment, Sarah hated her beautiful friend—almost as much as she hated herself. She couldn’t bear to watch. She couldn’t make herself look away. Writhing on that hellish hook, she bargained with God.
If it’s a long, passionate kiss, I’ll be good and leave their relationship alone. But if it’s short and sweet, he’s fair game. I’ll tell him Mark is history,and pursue this attraction I can’t control.
The voices stopped. Sarah’s breathing sounded loud in her ears.
Donna opened her arms and Jack moved up to fill them. Her head tilted up, his came down.
One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Miss—
His head lifted along with Sarah’s gladdened heart. She’d been right! He’d felt this powerful thing between them and couldn’t respond to another woman. She started to smile just as his head slowly lowered.
One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Mississippi, four-Mississippi, five-Mississippi, six...
Squeezing her lids shut, Sarah turned away, the sharp pain in her chest unrelated to the cold air. When she could breathe again, she opened her eyes and slunk away like the Peeping Worm she was. Moving low and silent, even if Jack and Donna were too engrossed in each other to hear beyond their pounding hearts.
Sarah reached her front porch, opened the door, slipped inside and locked herself in. Five minutes later she was tucked in bed like a good little girl.
Safe. But far from sound.
From HIS CURBSIDE Volvo, Jack watched Donna back her car out of the long pebbled driveway. Once in the street, she shifted gears, gave him a little smile and wave, then drove off out of sight.
Reluctantly, helplessly, his gaze turned to the fancy wrought-iron driveway gate. Beyond and to the left, in the guest house tucked out of sight, Sarah slept. Peaceful. Oblivious to his proximity. Untroubled by confusion or frustrated desire.
He ripped his gaze away and looked back at the empty street. Poor Donna. He’d used her as a guinea pig just now. Then tried to correct his mistake by warning he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. What a tired old line. But one she’d accepted with grace. Too much grace.
