“Lindy, sweetheart, is everything all right?”
“It’s wonderful. I got a job with Boeing and start first thing in the morning.”
“That’s terrific.”
Lindy could hear the relief in her mother’s voice, and smiled, remembering again how great she’d felt when the personnel director had offered her the job.
“Sweetheart, I couldn’t be more pleased. I knew everything would work out, given time.”
“I have more good news.”
“More?” her mother said, and laughed softly.
“I’ve met someone.”
“You have?” The question was followed by a brief, strained silence. “Isn’t this rather sudden?”
Lindy could all but hear the excitement drain out of Grace Kyle’s voice to be replaced by weary doubt. “Now, before you say anything, let me tell you something about him. He’s wonderful, Mom, really wonderful. He’s helped me so much, I can’t even begin to tell you everything he’s done for me. He’s a good, kind person. Honorable.”
“Oh, Lindy,” her mother said with a sigh, “do be careful.”
“I will, Mom. I promise.” The comedy of the situation struck her then, and she started to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” Her mother obviously hadn’t stopped to think things through.
“Mom, I’m twenty-two years old and when I told you that I’d met someone, you said I should be careful, like I was seven years old again and about to cross a busy street alone for the first time.”
“But, Lindy, you’re hardly over—” Grace paused and exhaled a disgusted, uneven breath. “I refuse to even mention his name.”
“Paul.” Lindy said it for her. “He can’t hurt me anymore. I refuse to let him.”
“That’s nice, sweetheart. Now tell me—where did you meet this young man you think so highly of?”
Lindy gnawed on her lower lip. Explaining her living arrangements to her mother would surely be cause for concern, but Lindy wasn’t in the habit of lying. “I met him a few days after I arrived in Seattle.”
“Oh. And what’s his family like?”
“Mom, we’ve only known each other a little while. I haven’t met his family.”
“But I think you should find out about them, don’t you?”
“I suppose. In time. Listen, Mom, I just wanted to call and let you know that everything is going terrific. I’ve got a good job and I couldn’t be happier. Really.”
“I’m so pleased for you.”
“I know. I feel good about everything, and I don’t want you to worry about me anymore because nothing’s going to hold me down again.”
“I knew you’d find your footing, given time.”
“I have, Mom.”
“Goodbye, sweetheart.”
“’Bye, Mom. Give my love to Dad.”
“I will.”
Lindy thought she heard a trace of tears in her mother’s soft voice when she replaced the receiver. She was surprised to note there was a hint in her own.
With Rush gone, the apartment felt like an empty tomb and the evening dragged by. Lindy watched television for a while, worked a crossword puzzle and added an extra coat of pink polish to her nails. By eleven she was tired and ready to give up her vigil. Rush had been determined to get away from her, to leave her alone to recognize the foolishness of her actions. She knew what he was thinking as clearly as if he’d announced his intentions. Only it hadn’t worked. If anything, Lindy was more determined than ever to get him to face the truth of what was happening between them.
Discouraged, she undressed and climbed between the cool sheets. But sleep wouldn’t come. Instead all she could think about was how good it had felt to be in Rush’s arms. How good and how remarkably right.
She recognized there was some validity to what he’d claimed. But he was wrong to think she was using him. The feelings she had for Rush had absolutely nothing to do with what had happened with Paul. The attraction she felt for Rush was because of who he was. She’d meant every word she’d said to her mother. Rush Callaghan was an honorable man, and there seemed to be few enough of them left.
Rush had given her a priceless gift. Her freedom. His patience and tenderness had released her from the shackles of pain and remorse. He’d held her hand and shown her the way out of the dark shadows. He’d led her gently into the warm healing glow of a summer sun.
If he were with her now, discussing matters the way he should be, Lindy knew exactly what he’d say to her. He’d tell her she was grateful. She was, but it was far more than gratitude she felt toward Rush. He’d taken her wounded heart and breathed new life into it. He’d let her feel again when her every nerve ending had been numb, and her very existence had seemed pointless.
She couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she’d felt in his arms, her breasts flattened against his broad chest, her nipples hard and erect. Just the memory was enough to stir her senses back to life. That brief time with Rush had produced an incredible range of new awarenesses. His kiss had been warm and tender, his lips lingering over hers as though this moment and place were out of time and meant for them alone.
His tender touch had brought with it the sweetest, most terrible yearning to be loved by him. Completely. Totally. Lindy didn’t need anyone to tell her that when Rush Callaghan gave his heart to a woman, she would be the most incredibly fortunate female alive.
Lindy had just begun to scratch the surface of his multifaceted personality. Over the years, Rush had built several thick protective layers around himself, and Lindy had only managed to peel away the top few, to gain a peek inside. But she believed with all her heart that underneath he was sensitive and strong, daring and bold, and yet in some ways almost shy.
In time, Rush would realize she knew her own mind—and her own heart. In no way was she rebounding from Paul. Her former fiancé had actually done her a big favor, although it had been difficult to recognize it at the time. Paul was weak. Blinded by her love, she hadn’t seen it before. Paul didn’t possess the principles Rush did, either. Rush, on the other hand, was noble, reliable and completely trustworthy. Lindy would stake her life on it. Her judgment had been poor once, but she’d learned something from Paul, and although the lesson had been bitterly painful, she’d been an apt student. She knew an honorable man when she saw one. And Rush Callaghan fit her definition to a T.
Still awake at midnight, Lindy bunched her pillow in half and rolled onto her stomach. She might as well climb out of bed and wait for him as toss and turn all night. She’d no sooner made the decision to get up when she heard the front door open.
Relieved, Lindy smiled and eagerly threw aside the blankets. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her robe and headed out her bedroom door, impatient to talk to him.
Rush was just coming down the hallway.
“You’re home,” she greeted, not even trying to disguise her pleasure. It wasn’t one of her most brilliant statements, but she didn’t care.
He grumbled something that she couldn’t make sense of.
“You didn’t need to leave, you know.”
“Yes, I did.” He kept as far away from her as space would allow.
“Rush, we need to talk.”
“Not now.”
“Yes, now,” she insisted.
“You have to go to work in the morning. Remember?” he argued, and rubbed his hand wearily over the back of his neck. “And for that matter so do I.”
Lindy took a step toward him, and stopped. The cloying scents of cheap perfume and cigarette smoke clung to him like the stench of an infection. Shocked, Lindy tensed and braced herself against the wall to avoid getting any closer to him than necessary. She felt as though he’d driven a stake through her heart, so violent was the rush of pain. Rush had left her arms, scoffed at her timid efforts at lovemaking and gone to another. Someone with far more experience than she.
She glared at him through wide, angry eyes. “You’re disgusting.” She spat the words vengefully with all the vehemence her heart
could muster. Then she whirled around and returned to her room, slamming the door with such force that the picture of her family on the dresser tumbled to the carpet.
Rush didn’t bother to follow her and Lindy was glad.
She was trembling uncontrollably when she sank onto the edge of her mattress. The honorable man she’d been so willing to place on a pedestal possessed clay feet. Clay feet and a clay heart.
Lindy may have slept at some time during the long night that followed, but she doubted it. She was so furious she couldn’t allow herself to relax enough to sleep. She had no hold on Rush, she realized. There was no commitment between them. A few kisses were all they’d ever shared, and yet she wanted to throttle him.
Apparently she wasn’t as apt a student as she’d thought, and she didn’t know which had disappointed her more—Rush’s behavior or her own inability to judge men.
* * *
Rush heard Lindy tossing and turning in her room long after he’d retired to his own room. He knew what she believed and had purposely let her go on thinking it, hoping she’d forget this silly notion about letting a romance develop between them. That had been his original intention. But when he’d seen the flash of pain in her eyes, he knew he couldn’t go through with it. Unfortunately Lindy wasn’t in any mood to carry on a levelheaded conversation, he’d decided. He’d explain things in the morning.
Rush had gotten out of the apartment as soon as he could following dinner, afraid of what might happen if he stayed. The truth of the matter was that it had taken every damn bit of restraint he’d possessed to walk away from Lindy. The cold beer he had nursed in a sleazy waterfront bar was small compensation for his considerable sacrifice.
His biggest problem was that he believed every word he’d said to Lindy. She was vulnerable right now. Vulnerable and trusting. A lethal combination as far as Rush was concerned. If he loved her the way she wanted, she’d wake in the morning filled with regrets. Rush couldn’t do that to her. Hell, if he was honest, he couldn’t do it to himself. He wasn’t so much a fool not to recognize that loving Lindy once would never be enough. A sample would only create the need for more. Much more.
The simple act of kissing and holding her had nearly defeated him. When she’d leaned up and brushed her lips over his, his body had fired to life with a heat that had threatened to consume him. It had demanded every part of his considerable self-control not to lift her into his arms and carry her into his bedroom.
The sweet little witch must have known it, too. She’d pressed her softness against him, fully conscious of what the intimacy was doing to him. And then she’d paused and looked up at him, her eyes wide and trusting and filled with such delectable love that it was more than a mere man could resist. He’d kissed her until he’d felt her weak and trembling in his arms. He had no idea what had stopped him then, but whatever it was, he was grateful.
Escape had been his only alternative, and he’d left the apartment when he could. He didn’t want to be in the bar, but after a brisk walk there hadn’t been anyplace else he knew to go. A woman who often loitered there had strolled up to his table, sat down without an invitation and tried to start a conversation. Rush had glared at her and told her wasn’t in the mood for company. Apparently she’d taken his words as a challenge and before he could stop her, her arms were all over him.
Rush didn’t realize the scent of her sickeningly sweet perfume had stayed with him until he saw Lindy’s look of complete disgust.
He was going to settle that matter first thing in the morning.
* * *
It was with a sense of righteousness that Lindy snapped a rock-music tape into her cassette player and turned it up full blast. Tapping her foot to the loud music, she wove the hot curling iron through her hair and waited. Within a couple of minutes, Rush staggered into the bathroom, apparently having just awakened, looking as if he intended to hurl her portable stereo out the living room window.
“Is that really necessary?” he shouted.
With deliberately slow movements Lindy turned down the volume. She regarded him with wide, innocent eyes. “What did you say?”
“Is that god-awful music necessary?”
It gave her a good deal of pleasure to smile sweetly back at him and ask, “Did I wake you? I’m so sorry, Rush.”
“I’ll bet,” he grumbled and turned to stumble back to his room.
Lindy loved it.
Her sense of timing couldn’t have been more perfect some time later when they met again in the kitchen. He grumbled something that sounded faintly like a plea for coffee. He had just gotten down a mug and started to pour himself a cup when she switched on the blender full blast. Hot coffee splattered over the counter and Rush jumped back, cursing savagely.
He whirled around to face her and once more Lindy gave him her brightest smile. She finished her task and asked, “Would you like some orange juice?”
“No,” he grumbled.
She swallowed a laugh and with a good deal of ceremony, poured herself a glass.
Rush was studying her with a tight frown. “Now I know what they mean when they say ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”’
Lindy gave him a vague look. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Like hell,” he exploded. “Exactly how long is it going to take you to properly mete out justice?”
“Rush, I think you got out of the wrong side of bed this morning. You seem to be imagining all sorts of things. What could I possibly be angry about?” Already she was feeling better. Okay, so maybe her revenge was a tad childish, but Rush deserved everything he got—in triplicate.
“Damn it, Lindy. You’ve got the wrong idea here.”
“Wrong idea about what?” She batted her thick lashes a couple of times for effect and had the satisfaction of seeing him clench his jaw. From experience Lindy knew mornings had never been Rush’s favorite time of day. He looked disoriented, out of sorts and more than a little lost in knowing how to deal with her. As far as Lindy was concerned, Rush’s confusion was poetic justice.
“While I’m still alive and breathing,” he managed, “I think you’d better know there’s been a minor misunderstanding here.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” she returned, her look as earnest as she could make it and still hold back her amusement.
His hand slammed against the counter. “And I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he countered, unable to restrain his fury. “You’ve tried and convicted me without knowing the details.”
The particulars were the last thing Lindy wanted to hear.
“Spare me, please,” she told him, the amusement of her game vanishing. “You can sleep with a harem for all I care.” It astonished her how easily the lie slipped from her lips. Rarely had she been more bitterly disappointed in anyone than she had been in Rush.
“Lindy…”
She cut him off with a quick shake of her head. “I wish I had more time to sort this out,” she lied again, but not as smoothly this time. “But in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got a job to go to.”
She walked away from him and was already in the living room when she paused to add, “You were right about one thing, though. I’m not ready for another relationship.” She turned to face him then. “You don’t need to worry about trying to clear the air. I understand, Rush, far better than you know.”
His eyes held hers and a strong current of energy passed between them. As always she could read little in his impassive expression. But he must have agreed with her because he said nothing, and she hurriedly walked away, eager to escape.
It was while she was brushing her teeth that a sheen of tears brightened her eyes. After everything that had happened to her, it was a surprise. She’d assumed she had more control of her emotions than this; she blamed the tears on lack of sleep.
With her purse in her hand she headed for the front door. She’d learned several lessons in the past few months, but they
didn’t seem to be getting any easier.
Walking down the hallway, she was forced to pass Rush, who was sitting on the sofa in the living room. She forced a smile and squared her shoulders, prepared to move past him with her head high.
Just as she reached him, Rush’s arm reached out, grabbed her hand and stopped her cold. His eyes held her more tightly than any vise.
“I won’t have you face your first day on the job with doubts. There was no one last night, Lindy. No one but you.”
She blinked back the surprise and uncertainty, not sure what to believe. The evidence had reeked from him.
Rush tugged at her arm, bringing her closer. When she was within easy reach, he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her down onto his lap. She landed there with a plop. His hands found their way to her face and he turned her head so her unwilling gaze was forced to meet his.
“I can’t let you go on thinking I could’ve touched another woman after kissing you.” His eyes filled with an emotion so powerful that Lindy couldn’t speak. Gone was the mask—lowered or destroyed, she didn’t know which—and what she saw in his wonderful eyes gave flight to her heart. His look was innocent, youthful almost. Seeking. He needed her to believe him, was pleading with her in a way she knew was foreign to this proud man.
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she nodded, silently telling him that she trusted his word.
The pad of his thumb wiped the moisture from the high arch of her cheek.
“Damn it, Lindy. We’re in one fine mess here,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “I want you like hell. What are we going to do?” His warm mouth, only inches from hers, brushed lightly over her parted lips.
Lindy just managed to stifle a groan and kissed him back softly, her mouth lingering over his own, needing his warmth.
By this time he’d wrapped her in his embrace. As though they had all the time in the world, Rush brought her lips down to his own with an agonizing slowness. The kiss was filled with such aching tenderness, such sweet torment that the fresh tears rolled unheeded down the side of her face.
“I should have trusted you,” she told him brokenly. “I should have known.”
Debbie Macomber's Navy Box Set Page 7
