Overheated

by Barbara Dunlop

  “Wasn’t crazy about that paint anyway,” she told him.

  He chuckled low. “Didn’t sound too bad.”

  Her headlights died, and she shut off the engine.

  Then she was opening the door. The interior glow backlit her hair. Her face was dark, but he could picture it in his mind. She was wearing a green tank top and a short, denim skirt.

  She turned to open the back door.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed into the phone.

  “So are you,” she responded.

  “You haven’t seen me yet.”

  “But I remember.”

  “So do I,” he rumbled. “So do I.”

  Rufus leapt out of the car, sniffing his way across the bark-mulch garden.

  Larry called his name, closing the phone as Crystal strode toward him.

  Rufus shot through the doorway, with Crystal right behind.

  Larry closed and latched the door, pulling her into his arms and backing her into the entryway wall.

  “I missed you,” he whispered, framing her face with his palms.

  She smiled, and he leaned in for a kiss.

  Her lips were warm and sweet, malleable beneath his pressure. She snaked her arms around him and tipped her head sideways.

  One of his arms went around her waist, then he smoothed her eyebrow, stroked the slope of her nose, her soft cheek, her chin, and he ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “Twenty-eight, eh?”

  “Get over it.”

  He scooped her into his arms. “I intend to try very, very hard to do just that.”

  She laughed as he swept her up the stairs to his waiting bedroom.

  LARRY LAY AWAKE IN THE DIM light from the moon that filtered through his sheer curtains, while Crystal’s chest slowly rose and fell beneath the cream-colored sheet. The strange thing was, it seemed perfectly natural to have her here. He wasn’t sure if it was the redecorating, the amount of time that had passed or simply his feelings for Crystal. But he could keep her here, in his room, in his bed, forever.

  He placed a gentle kiss on her smooth, bare shoulder.

  It was four-thirty. He’d usually be up and showered by now, but he didn’t want to risk disturbing her. Regular people needed eight hours’ sleep. Which was an advantage to him on some days, and a disadvantage on others. Today, he didn’t want to wait three more hours to talk to Crystal.

  He supposed a man took the good with the bad. His sleep cycle had enabled him to earn his PhD and teach fulltime at the university, with the occasional consulting job for NASA, while managing the math department so perfectly that it kept the president of the university more than happy. Still, he wished he could just stay and gaze into Crystal’s jade-green eyes.

  As if reading his mind, she blinked them open.

  “Hey,” she yawned, her ruby lips curving into a smile.

  “Hey, yourself.” He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.

  “What time is it?”

  “Four-thirty.”

  “You should be asleep.”

  “So should you.”

  She extracted her arm from beneath the sheet and ran her fingers over his beard-roughened chin. “I was.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  “I don’t think so. I was dreaming about apartment hunting.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It wasn’t. But I have to do it.”

  “Today?” He supposed with her parents’ impending move, she didn’t dare waste any time.

  She nodded, eyes fluttering closed. “I should have an early breakfast.”

  “What time is early for you?”

  “Seven-thirty.”

  “I’ll make breakfast.”

  She smiled.

  “What do you like?” he asked.

  “Anything.” Her expression relaxed. “Anything,” she whispered, and her breathing went even.

  “Anything at seven-thirty,” he mumbled. Then he kissed her on the forehead and slipped out of the bed.

  He pulled on a pair of gym shorts and a clean T-shirt, then trotted down the stairs where Rufus met him. The pool didn’t open until six, and he really needed to clear his head.

  “What about it, buddy?” he asked the dog. “You up for a jog?”

  Rufus wagged his tail and followed at Larry’s heels into the kitchen. After a quick cup of coffee for him and a bowl of kibbles for Rufus, Larry donned his runners. They locked the front door and headed out to the street. It was still dark, but a faint blue glow had appeared on the eastern horizon, masking the stars.

  They jogged down a deserted Versluce Street and onto the Bridge, then they headed into the park to do a lap around the pond on the bark-mulch trail. Rufus settled into the pace and seemed happy to stay at Larry’s heels. Larry enjoyed the company, even if the dog did scare the mallard ducks paddling in the reeds near the shore.

  When they made the wide turn at the end of the pond, the sun was peeking up over the hills. Larry’s thoughts turned from gamma ray burst astrometry to the image of Crystal sleeping in his bed. Despite his vehement denial to Steve, Larry had thought a lot about the midlife crisis angle.

  Was there some hormonal or genetic programming that attracted him to younger women at this stage? He hadn’t ever noticed it before. He’d certainly met his share of twenty and thirty-something women in the past year, and he hadn’t felt a spark with any of them, not a single flare or glow of desire.

  This was all Crystal, plain and simple. And though he knew he should care about the age difference, he was falling too hard for her. And he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

  He found himself picking up the pace. He glanced at his watch. It was six-thirty, and he wanted to get home in time to make her something special for breakfast. Maybe waffles. Nice, crispy Belgian waffles with berries and whipped cream.

  He’d have to stop at the store for whipping cream, but that was fine. There was a mini market on Waverly. It was only a small detour.

  They’d sit out on his back deck, sipping coffee and watching the dew burn off the ferns and flowers in his garden. Larry smiled to himself, while Rufus barked at another flock of ducks.

  They rose into the air, wings beating, the water rippling behind them. The day suddenly seemed full of promise. Larry’s life seemed full of promise.

  As soon as breakfast was over, he’d start planning their weekend in Pocono. Now that they were officially dating, he figured he could spend as much money on her as he liked.

  “YOU’RE JOKING,” SAID CRYSTAL, staring at the Web page of an ultra-luxury hotel suite in Pocono with a castle-like exterior. The suite had high ceilings, massive windows, a polished-wood chandelier, a corner fireplace, along with deep-cushioned couches, all complimented by a giant whirlpool tub and a canopied bed.

  “You don’t like it?” asked Larry, turning the laptop back toward him on the breakfast table out on his deck.

  “I think it’ll cost a fortune,” said Crystal. She was sure there were several lovely family motels near the track.

  “So what?” he asked.

  “So are you made of money?”

  “I’m a mathematician.”

  What the heck was that supposed to mean?

  “And you said I could spend money on you once we were dating.”

  “I didn’t mean you should take out a second mortgage.”

  He grinned. “I don’t have a first mortgage.”

  “Neither do I.” Crystal stretched her arms over her head.

  She was wearing one of Larry’s white dress shirts. It slipped up her thighs, and the cool morning air flowed over her skin. “Which reminds me. I have to get out there and apartment-hunt.”

  She polished off the remainder of her coffee. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  “You want some help?” he asked.

  “I’m sure you have better things to do. Maybe some research to finish?” The last thing Crystal wanted was to become the visitor from hell. There was nothing worse than a sleepover guest wh
o didn’t know when the night was over. She needed to give Larry space.

  “That’s the thing about astrophysics research,” he said.

  She waited.

  “I can’t solve all the mysteries of the universe, I’ll die long before my work is ever finished.”

  She leaned forward. “Then you better get started.”

  He grinned. “I got started when I was fifteen years old. And I’m really not all that much closer to any answers.”

  “Well, there’s the ion propulsion engine thingee.”

  “Thingee?”

  She nodded. “I believe that’s the technical term.”

  “We’re still working out the bugs on that. Aiming for 2010, actually. I think I can afford to take a day off.”

  “And you want to spend it looking at low-rent apartments in Charlotte?”

  His eyes went flirty as he stared into hers. “Yeah.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  He finished his own coffee, rising to his feet. “Statistically speaking, genius and insanity are very closely linked.”

  She stood with him. “Good to know.”

  “You want me to drive?”

  Crystal really wasn’t thrilled with the idea of taking Larry along. The kinds of apartments she could afford were going to be depressing and embarrassing. She was thinking about a one-bedroom basement, or maybe a third-floor walkup bachelor-something to keep expenses down while she looked for a new job.

  “I don’t want to take you away from anything important,” she tried.

  His expression sobered. “If you don’t want me to come.”

  “It’s not that,” she lied.

  His lips thinned and his eyes turned guarded. “I guess I misinterpreted-”

  “Oh, hell,” she spat out. Beating around the bush was getting her into even more trouble. “It’s not you, okay? It’s that I’m not going to be able to afford anything nice.”

  He looked relieved. “Then we’ll find you something ugly.”

  She headed inside the house, muttering under her breath. “While you book the Emperor Suite at the Castle on the Hill.”

  “You might as well see how the other half lives,” he told her easily, following behind. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to work harder.”

  “I’m a writer,” she countered. “We’re supposed to be starving in some damp, little garret in Paris.”

  “Is that what we’re looking for?” he asked. “A garret? I don’t know if we have any garrets in Charlotte.”

  BY THREE O’CLOCK, THEY HADN’T found a damp garret or anything else that was suitable. Crystal didn’t mind small, and she didn’t mind worn; she did mind dirty, and she couldn’t tolerate dangerous. It was also tough to find any place that would take Rufus.

  “Had enough?” asked Larry as he slammed the driver’s door and wrapped his hands around the steering wheel, staring in disgust at the plain, cinderblock building with bars on the ground-floor windows and graffiti across the service entrance.

  Crystal clenched her fists around her hair, shaking her head and making a sound of disgust deep in her throat. “I just want something plain and simple and clean. Is that too much to ask?”

  He turned to look at her, expression serious. “You might have to think about using Simon’s money.”

  She immediately shook her head.

  “You’d starve on the streets over a principle?”

  “I’m not going to starve in the streets.” She was going to find an apartment and a job, and she was going to live like a normal person.

  “You can always rent a room from me.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “It’d be cheap.”

  She shot him a stare. “You know I can’t do that.”

  He gave a nod to the group of teenage boys lounging on the front steps of the building. “Well, you can’t stay here.”

  She didn’t disagree with that. But there was a lot of real estate between social housing and Larry’s place. “We don’t even know where our relationship is going,” she elaborated.

  His grip tightened, so did his voice. “You’re right. We don’t.”

  She’d offended him, now. She never should have brought him along. “Can you take me back to my car?”

  He turned his head. “You’re giving up?”

  “There’s something else I want to do this afternoon.”

  He waited, but didn’t ask for an explanation.

  “It’s for the kids,” she admitted.

  He waited some more, silently, patiently, while she remembered she could trust him and count on him. He’d proved as much the night at Myrtle Pond.

  “Sunday night was unsettling,” she told him. “Amber’s drinking too much, and she’s got stars in her eyes over Zane. She might even tell him about the money. I want to pick up a cell phone for Jennifer. You know, program my number into it, just in case.”

  “Auntie Crystal, on call, day or night?”

  “Something like that.”

  Larry reached for the ignition. “It’s a good idea. Can we pick up the kids?”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll want to show her how to use it, charge it. She might even want to pick it out. If it’s a cool phone, she’s more likely to keep it with her.”

  Crystal nodded. That was definitely a good idea. “How do you think of these things?”

  Larry smiled. “I raised a son, remember?”

  Of course he had. She’d never been introduced to Steve, but she knew him by reputation. By all accounts, he was a fine man.

  She dialed her sister and caught her on a coffee break.

  “Are the kids going to day care after school today?” she asked Amber.

  “Of course,” said Amber, her tone telling Crystal she was still upset about the night before.

  Crystal tried not to sigh in frustration. “I was thinking about picking them up and, I don’t know, maybe going out for ice cream or doing a little shopping.”

  “You are?” Amber’s voice perked up. “Would you mind keeping them for dinner?”

  A date with Zane, no doubt.

  “I don’t mind at all,” said Crystal. “What time do you want me to drop them off tonight?”

  “Can I call you later?”

  “Sure.” Good thing the kids had spare pajamas at Crystal’s place.

  “Thanks, Crystal. You’re the best.”

  Yeah, yeah. She was the best for the next twelve hours anyway.

  “Talk to you tonight then. Don’t forget to call the day care.”

  “I won’t. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Crystal pushed the off button. “I’m keeping them over dinner.”

  Larry flipped on his turn signal and turned onto the main road. “Zane again?”

  “I’m sure.” She slipped the phone back into her purse. “The day care’s on Governor Road, just past the plaza.” She stared out the window for a minute, letting the stately oaks flash by her vision. “I can’t decide if I’m being a good aunt or simply being an enabler.”

  “You’re being a good aunt.”

  She turned back to Larry. “You’re biased.”

  “Because I’m sleeping with you?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Think about it,” he said. “Would Amber stop seeing Zane if you weren’t babysitting?”

  “No,” Crystal admitted.

  “There you go. There’s nothing you can do to alter her behavior. From what you’ve said, there’s a pattern to these reunions, and you simply have to let it run its course.”

  “And keep the fallout from hurting the kids.”

  “That’s right. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.” He reached across the seat to cover her hand with his. “You’re a good aunt, Crystal. And you’re a good person.”

  His sweet intentions warmed her heart.

  “You’re still biased,” she reminded him.

  “You forget. I’m a scientist. We’re trained to be impartial.”

  “I remember. You’re a man. You�
��re anthropologically selected to think with your hormones.”

  His gaze warmed. “I’m thinking with them now.”

  So was she. “See what I mean?”

  He nodded toward two blocks up the busy street. “That the parking lot?”

  “Take a left at the light, and you can pull right in.”

  Larry stopped his car in the pickup lane while Crystal jumped out. She spoke to the entry attendant, who confirmed that Amber had given her permission for Crystal to take the kids.

  The kids were thrilled to see her, doubly thrilled when they learned Larry was along as well.

  “I’m going to be a fighter jet pilot,” David called, swinging his backpack into Larry’s compact backseat and clambering in.

  “It’s a tough job. The F-15 Eagle, for example, has a top speed of Mach 2.5,” said Larry. “That’s 1694 miles an hour at thirty thousand feet. A whopping 1902 miles an hour at sea level.”

  “Whoa!”

  “You sure you want to go that fast?”

  “Yes!” David shouted, with a bounce on the seat.

  Jennifer paused before getting in the car, looking up at Crystal. “Is Mommy okay?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  An ache flashing across her chest, Crystal smoothed Jennifer’s hair back from her forehead and forced out a cheery smile. “Of course, she’s okay. She’s at work right now, but she said you could come to my place for dinner if you wanted.”

  Jennifer smiled and her narrow shoulders seemed to relax. Crystal realized she needed to have another talk with Amber. It looked like waiting out Zane might be too hard on Jennifer.

  “Fighter pilots always wear their safety harness,” said Larry, and David immediately searched for the two ends of his seat belt.

  “They wear helmets, too,” said David as he buckled in.

  “Safety equipment is very important,” said Larry, gazing expectantly at Crystal.

  “Oops.” She grabbed her own seat belt.

  He smiled. “Fighter pilots have really cool flight suits.”

  “And parachutes,” chimed David.

  “That’s right,” said Larry as they pulled out of the day care’s pickup lane and back into traffic. “Do you know what happens if a fighter pilot pulls the ejection lever?”

  David’s voice was hushed. “What?”

  Crystal found herself paying attention along with Jennifer.