Dana heard the sorrow behind Nick’s words, but she also heard the joy. For the first time in her life she was struck by an envy so sharp it rocked her. She wanted to share somehow in that enviable life Nick had led.
“Tell me about Ginny,” she said, a catch in her voice.
Nick studied her closely. “Are you sure you want to hear about her?”
“Absolutely. I want to know what she was like, what you loved about her.”
He nodded. “Okay, but let’s get to a stopping place first.”
A few hundred feet farther down the road, he pulled into the gravel parking lot in front of a small country store and gas station.
“I’ll get us some soft drinks and a couple of sandwiches, okay?”
“Fine.”
Dana propped her bike against the weathered side of the store and stared around her at the recently planted fields that were just beginning to turn green. She felt the same sense of peace and continuity she’d experienced when she’d discovered River Glen. She wanted to draw that feeling inside, to capture it and put her heart at rest. The air was heavy with the rich scent of the fields, the sun was hot on her skin, and she felt more contented than she had in years.
When Nick came out a few minutes later, she realized he was becoming a part of her contentment. There were no jarring notes with Nick, only an easygoing calm that fit well with the surroundings. If only that calm were real, she might dare to hope again.
“There’s a place up ahead where we can sit under the trees for a while,” he said, and led the way.
When they were settled on the cool grass, he opened the bag and handed her a drink, then held out the sandwiches. “Ham and cheese or tuna?”
“Ham and cheese,” she said instantly.
Nick made a face. “I should have known.”
“Is that what you wanted? Take it. I like tuna just as well.”
“No you don’t or you would have asked for it. Take the ham and cheese.”
“We’ll split them.” She was proud of her ingenuity until she caught the expression in Nick’s eyes. “What?”
“Why do you do that? Why do you go to such lengths to avoid an argument?”
Dana stared down at the ground. “I wasn’t aware that’s what I was doing. I just thought it would be nicer if we shared.”
He shook his head. “It’s more than that. There have been times in the past week when I know you’ve been furious with me….” He waved aside her instinctive denial. “No. It’s true. But you’ve never once done more than snap a little. Sometimes I want to do outrageous things, just to see how you’ll react.”
“I don’t see much point in arguing.”
“Not even when you have a valid difference of opinion?”
“It depends on how important it is. If it’s something that doesn’t matter, like the sandwiches, it’s easier to give in.”
“And that’s all it is?”
“What else could it be?” she said, retreating behind her shuttered expression again.
Nick felt like pounding the earth or snatching the damn tuna sandwich out of her hands. He wanted, just once, to see her reach her limits and say exactly what she thought, instead of tiptoeing around anything that wasn’t pleasant.
It was Dana who broke the silence. “Do you realize how absurd we sound? We’re sitting here fighting because I don’t like to argue.”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Dana. I just want to be sure you’re not afraid to say what you mean with me. You’re entitled to your opinion, even when we disagree. That’s what makes life interesting. If we agreed on every single thing, we’d be bored to tears in no time.”
“You may be sorry you said that.”
“Oh?”
“Once I get started, I might give you a very rough time.”
“I’ll survive.”
Dana nodded. “Okay, Mr. Verone, from now on, you’ll only hear the unvarnished truth from me. Now, you were going to tell me about Ginny.”
“So I was.”
Nick leaned back against the tree and let his mind drift back over the years of his marriage, over the entire lifetime he’d shared with Ginny. With three years of perspective, he could finally recall the good times, rather than dwell on those last painful months.
“She was someone very special,” he said at last. A faint smile lit his face. “I remember once when we were maybe six or seven. My mom had bought strawberries to make strawberry shortcake for a big family dinner. Ginny was crazy about strawberries and she saw them sitting on the kitchen table and she couldn’t resist. She climbed up on a chair and started eating. I kept begging her to get down, but she wouldn’t. She just sat there with bright red juice all over her face and hands, stuffing them in.
“Then my mom came in. Oh, boy, was there hell to pay. Ginny just listened to her, then said, bold as you please, ‘Nick dared me to.’”
Dana grinned. “I suppose you’re the one who got punished.”
“I spent the rest of the day in my room.” He chuckled. “But it wasn’t so bad. Ginny climbed a tree right outside the window and talked to me till suppertime.”
“Did you always know you wanted to marry her?”
Nick grew thoughtful. “I think I did. I know there was never anyone else. I never met another woman who had her spirit, who reached out and grabbed the day and held on to it until she’d lived every single moment. Yet, for all that fire, she was also very gentle and caring.”
He glanced up and met Dana’s eyes, caught the tears shimmering in them. “In so many ways, you remind me of her.”
Dana was shaking her head. “No, you’re wrong. I’m not like that at all.”
“I think you are. I see it in everything you do.”
“But I don’t take risks. You said it yourself. I just drift along, trying to keep things on an even keel.”
He regarded her perceptively. “But I don’t think you were always like that.”
Dana closed her eyes as if to ward off some pain inflicted by his words. He reached over and touched her cheek, his callused thumb following the line of her jaw.
“Dana,” he said softly.
Her eyes opened and a tear slid along her cheek.
“That is the woman I see when I look at you.”
“You’re wrong,” she protested. “I wish I were like that, but I’m not.”
“Then use my eyes as your mirror,” he said gently. “See yourself as I do.”
He knelt on the ground beside her, and this time when he lowered his head to kiss her she didn’t pull away. Her lips trembled beneath his, then parted on a sigh. She tasted of sunshine and tears, a blend as intoxicating as champagne. He felt her restraint in the rigid way she held her body, in the stiffness of her shoulders, but her mouth was his, and for now, it was enough.
Chapter 5
Over the next few days, Nick thought about very little besides that kiss. It had brought him an incredible depth of satisfaction. He recalled in heart-stopping detail the velvet touch of Dana’s lips against his, the moist fire of her tongue, the sweetness of her breath. The memory of each second stirred a joy and longing in him that went far beyond the physical implications of a single kiss.
Each time he replayed the scene in his mind it sent fire raging through his blood. He felt like an adolescent. His body responded to provocative images as easily as it had to the reality. Far more important, however, that kiss had told him that Dana was beginning to trust him. He was wise enough to see that earning Dana’s trust in full would be no easy task.
As anxious as any lover—and astonished by the sudden return of the special and rare tug of deep emotion—he could hardly wait to see her when he returned from a four-day business trip. It was Thursday, one of the two nights the library stayed open until nine. He saw the lights burning in the windows when he drove into town. With Tony safely with Ginny’s parents there was no reason he couldn’t stop. No one expected him until tomorrow, but he’d been too impatient to see Dana to stay away anoth
er night.
He found her putting books back on the shelves. She didn’t see him as he stood at the end of the aisle, watching as she lifted her arms and stood on tiptoe to reach the top shelf. Her hair had been swept up on top of her head in a knot, but curling tendrils had escaped and curved along her cheeks and down the nape of her neck. The little makeup she normally wore had worn away, leaving her lips a natural pink and her cheeks flushed from the effort of lifting the piles of returned books and carrying them back to the shelves. The stretching motion pulled her blouse taut over her breasts and he yearned to cup their fullness in his hands. His body throbbed with a need so swift and forceful he had to turn away to catch his breath.
“Nick!”
Taken by surprise, her voice was as excited as a child’s on Christmas morning, and he turned to see that her brown eyes glowed with unexpected warmth. In an instant, though, she had tempered the display of honest emotion and he almost sighed aloud with disappointment.
“How was your trip?”
Endless, he wanted to say but instead said only, “Fine. Productive.”
“Did you get the contract?”
“I won’t know for sure until the final papers are in my hand, but it looks that way.”
“Congratulations!” She reached out tentatively and touched his arm. “I’m proud of you.”
Then, as if the impulsive gesture troubled her, she hurried back toward the desk and began sorting through another stack of books. Nick watched her for several minutes, wondering at the swift return of her nervousness. Finally he followed her and pulled up a chair, turning its back to her and straddling it, his arms propped across the back.
“So, what have you been doing while I’ve been gone?”
“I’ve done some more work on the house.” Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “I found the perfect wallpaper for the bedroom and I’m going to tackle that project next, as soon as I can figure out how to hang the stuff. I’m terrified of getting tangled up in a sheet of paper and winding up glued up like some mummy.”
“Want some help?”
Dana promptly looked chagrined. “Nick, I wasn’t hinting. You spend all day working on houses. Why should you work on mine in your free time?”
“Because it makes me happy,” he said simply. He studied her closely, then promised quietly, “There are no strings attached.”
His words, a recognition of what he perceived as her greatest fear, hung in the silence before she finally said, “I know that. You’re not the kind of man who’d attach them.”
“I’m glad you’re finally able to see that.”
Dana hesitated as she seemed to be searching for words. “Nick, my attitude toward you…well, it wasn’t…it isn’t personal.”
“Meaning?”
“Just that.”
“And you don’t want to explain?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I really am, but I can’t.”
He nodded, frustration sweeping through him until he reminded himself that they were making progress. Dana had as much as admitted that trust was growing between them. If he was any judge of her character, he would have to say that the admission had been a giant step for her.
“Shall we talk about your wallpaper instead?” he suggested, adopting a lighter tone. “We could work on it tonight.”
She looked tempted but protested anyway. “You’re just back from your trip. You must want to get home and see Tony.”
“He’s not expecting me back until morning and he loves staying with his grandparents. They spoil him, and he’ll be furious if I turn up a day early. Now, come on. You can fix me a spectacular dinner while I hang that wallpaper.”
Dana still seemed hesitant. Finally, as though she’d waged a mental battle and was satisfied at the outcome, she smiled. “If you’ll settle for something slightly less than spectacular, you’ve got a deal.”
“You’ve seen my refrigerator. You know I have very low standards. Anything you do would have to be an improvement. Now let’s get out of here. I’m starved.”
As soon as they arrived at her house, Dana threw potatoes in the oven to bake, tossed a salad and cooked steaks on the grill while Nick measured the wallpaper. He liked listening to the cheerful sounds from the kitchen as he worked. It reminded him of happier times in his past, of coming home to the smell of baking bread and to Ginny, waiting in the kitchen with a smile on her face, anxious to hear about his day. After being without those things for three years, he appreciated all the more Dana’s ability to fill a house with welcoming sounds and scents.
He also approved of the simple wallpaper design Dana had chosen. Muted shades of palest mauve and gray intermingled with white in tiny variegated stripes that were both tasteful and easy on the eye. It wasn’t frilly and feminine, although that would have suited her, too. It was sophisticated and classy, with just a touch of innocence. As he cut the strips, he chuckled at reading so much into a selection of wallpaper.
Dana already had a bedspread in similar tones on the brass bed, and matching curtains had billowed in the spring breeze. Nick pulled the furniture away from the walls and had taken down the curtains in readiness for hanging the first strip of paper. As he shifted the bed to the center of the room, he was struck by a powerful sense of intimacy. He felt as close to Dana as if they’d been in that bed together, clinging to each other in the heat of passion.
He could imagine lying there after a night with her in his arms, propped on one elbow, watching as Dana pulled a brush through her long hair. He envisioned all the thousand little things a husband learns about his wife by watching her dress in the morning. His gaze lingered on the pillow as if he could see the indentation from her head, before he finally blinked away the image just in time to hear her call his name from the kitchen.
“Well,” she said when they were settled at the table, “are you regretting your impulsive offer?”
“Not a bit. I like to hang wallpaper. When Ginny was alive—” He stopped himself in midsentence. “Sorry. I shouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?” She seemed genuinely mystified.
“I shouldn’t keep bringing up my wife.”
“Don’t be absurd. She was an important part of your life for a very long time. It’s natural that you should want to talk about her.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
There was a subtle shift in her mood, a hint of caution in her tone. “No. At least, not the way you mean.”
He regarded her curiously, surprised to find her expression almost wistful. “I don’t understand.”
“I just mean that I wish everyone had a marriage as happy as yours was.”
He recalled her comment once before about the social whirl her marriage had entailed and wondered again at the edge in her voice.
“How long were you married, Dana?”
“Five years.”
The response was to the point. He sensed she had no desire to elaborate, but he asked anyway, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” The response was quick and very firm. “I’d rather leave the past where it belongs.”
She retreated again to that place Nick couldn’t follow, a place that separated them by both time and distance as effectively as if they still lived in separate worlds. She stared into space and placed her fork back on her plate. Nervously, she drummed her fingers on the table. When he couldn’t bear witnessing her unacknowledged pain any longer, Nick put a hand over hers and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.
“Sometimes that’s not possible,” he said softly.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, the mournful expression in her eyes painful to see. “It has to be,” she said, an unmistakable edge of desperation etched on her face.
Then, as if she’d found some new source of inner strength, she pulled herself together and even managed a faltering smile. “Enough of all that. Surely we can find other things to talk about. Are you finished with your steak?”
“Dana…”
“No, Nick. Let
it go.” The words were part plea, part command. Her demeanor brightened with a determination that awed him a little, even as it worried him.
“I have strawberry shortcake for dessert,” she tempted.
He gave in. “When did you have time to fix that?”
“Today. It was no trouble. I had the strawberries and it was easy enough to do the rest. I seemed to remember you like it.”
“I love it.”
“Would you like to eat on the porch? I think it’s warm enough tonight.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Nick brought out a chair, and Dana settled into her creaking rocking chair. They sat for a long time in companionable silence, letting the night’s calm steal over them as they ate.
“Would you like some more?” Dana asked when he’d finished.
“No, please. Another bite and I’ll never get off this chair and back to your wallpaper.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“The matter is settled,” he insisted, getting up. “Now come and help me.” He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. She stood gazing up at him, her wide brown eyes searching his face. She tried to withdraw her hand from his, but he held on tightly.
“Dana.”
She waited, the only visible sign of her emotions the darkening of her eyes into nearly black pools of pure enchantment. He tried to interpret her expression, but anxiety made him wary of the message he thought he saw. Was it, in fact, a yearning desire or the now familiar trepidation? Never had he felt such uncertainty, such self-doubt. Would the kiss he wanted so badly be welcomed or would it drive her away?
Few things in life came without risks and fewer were more valued than emotional commitment between a man and a woman. True, his feelings for Dana were still too new to be called commitment, yet they tortured him for fulfillment. He stared into her upturned face and slowly, with great care not to frighten her, he lowered his mouth to hers.
Edge of Forever Page 7
