Just One Week

by Alice Gaines

Michelle ended up going into town with Alex to pick up the flowers, which was just fine with him. He couldn’t tell a geranium from a gardenia, and she’d be along to fix things if the florist got the order wrong. Now with everything stashed in the SUV, they could spend a little time in Wheeler’s Mill checking out the shops and enjoying the sunshine.

  As they walked along, Alex had to clench his fingers or stuff his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her—from holding hands or putting his arm around her. The primitive male need to stake out his territory. Only he had no real claim to Michelle. At the end of the week, she’d go back to her lab or to her new university job, and he’d return to camp to get ready for the new season. All the time they’d spent together would end up memories.

  She stopped in front of an art gallery with a window full of pottery. Pitchers, vases, and bowls in various colors and glazes. Michelle went to a huge urn by the door. Easily three feet deep and almost as wide, it was full of water and had plants growing in it. Lily pads and what looked like bamboo.

  “This is gorgeous,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “A water garden,” she answered. “Very calming, especially if you add a small fountain.”

  “I’ll buy it for you.”

  She laughed. “Sure. It’d fit right in in my apartment in Boston.”

  “You could put it on a balcony.”

  “I don’t have a balcony, and if I did, it’d freeze in winter.”

  “You’re smart. You’ll think of something.”

  “I’ll pack it in my suitcase.” She touched his arm. “Thanks, but no.”

  They stood for a moment, just looking at each other. Her smile warmed his heart. He could make her happy at least for a few days, and that meant a lot. The future could take care of itself.

  “Alex,” a voice called.

  He turned to find Barbara Isley approaching. A woman who’d gone to high school with them and had married a local boy and settled down. Barbara came up and gave him a hug.

  “How’ve you been?” Barbara said. “I haven’t seen you for an age.”

  “The job keeps me busy.”

  Barbara turned to Michelle. “I know you.”

  “Michelle Dennis,” Michelle said.

  “Right. The mega-mind. I would have never passed algebra without your help,” Barbara said. “It’s been what…six years?”

  “Eight,” Alex corrected.

  “You look great,” Barbara said.

  Michelle blushed. “Thanks.”

  “No, really.” Barbara took a step backward and gave Michelle the visual once-over. “Wow.”

  Michelle leaned toward Alex and he managed…just barely…not to put his arm around her. This not-touching stuff was torture.

  “So glad to see you,” Barbara said. “Let’s have lunch.”

  “I’d love to, but I won’t be here long,” Michelle said.

  Barbara gestured wide with her arms. “Today. Right now. There’s a new fusion restaurant I’ve been dying to try.”

  “Fusion?” Alex asked.

  Barbara inserted herself between Alex and Michelle, took their arms, and led them toward the next block. “A little Asian, some Cajun, California cuisine. Local ingredients in season.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Michelle said.

  It sounded awful. Exactly the sort of place Alex avoided at all cost. The menu would be difficult enough to decipher even if the letters made sense. He’d be hopelessly lost. “Will they do a steak or a burger?”

  Barbara laughed. “He’s so cute.”

  Alex’s heart sank down around his stomach. A brand-new restaurant with waiters who didn’t know him. He’d have to ask the most basic questions, which would make him look like an idiot. Or he’d have to point toward the menu, which would also make him look like an idiot. No matter what he did, he’d look like an idiot. In front of Michelle.

  “Why don’t you two girls have lunch, and I’ll come back for Michelle?” he said.

  “Don’t be silly.” Barbara squeezed his arm just as they arrived at the restaurant. “I want to hear all about the NFL.”

  All right, that wasn’t going to work, and Michelle seemed interested in eating at the place. She was staring at the menu, which was posted on the window of the restaurant.

  “Looks good,” she said.

  “I told you,” Barbara said.

  Alex took a breath and checked it out, staring over Michelle’s shoulder. It was small type and italics, which made the letters swim, and ornate embellishments around the entries only added to the confusion. No way in hell was he going to be able to read that shit, and asking for a burger would make him out to be an ignoramus.

  “You must eat in fancy restaurants all the time, living in New York,” Barbara said.

  “We play in New Jersey.”

  Barbara waved a hand. “Same thing.”

  It certainly wasn’t, but trying to point that out to her wouldn’t get him anywhere. He tried to steady his breathing. Relax, relax. Things might get awkward, but it wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t, damn it.

  But Michelle was here. She’d witness his embarrassment, and he didn’t have anyone to fall back on. He might even embarrass her with his stupidity.

  “Come on, let’s go in.” Barbara grabbed his hand, and the three of them went inside. For some damned reason, there were empty tables, so he couldn’t use the excuse that the wait would take too long. In a minute, they were seated, and he held a menu in his hand.

  “What do you think, Alex?” Barbara said.

  She didn’t really want to know what he thought. Or how he felt—as if the walls might close in. The familiar panic when things got out of his control. He swallowed. “It all looks…um…interesting.”

  “What about you, Michelle?” Barbara said.

  “Yeah, really interesting,” Michelle said.

  What had he memorized about menus? Appetizers in the upper left, desserts on the bottom. The main dishes would be in the middle. His heart pounded, and his palms felt clammy. He picked up his water glass, but his hand shook, so he set it down again.

  Michelle glanced at him, and her eyebrows furrowed. She’d noticed something was wrong. Shit!

  “The tandoori-cooked pulled pork sandwich looks good,” Barbara said.

  “Sounds good,” Alex said. He did his best to commit that to memory. It would help if he knew what a tandoori was.

  The waiter appeared. “Are you guys ready to order?”

  “I’d like to look a while longer,” Barbara said.

  Sure, and prolong the agony. Alex had to remind himself to breathe. “What’s the special today?”

  Usually that would get you a litany of pretentious blather, but he could glom on to one thing and announce he’d have that. No such luck this time. The waiter handed him a half sheet of paper with more unintelligible italics. Alex took it from him and sat staring at it, his heart still hammering.

  Again, Michelle looked at him. He tried to relax, but his jaw had clenched hard enough to hurt his teeth. He’d completely lost control of this situation, and the more he tried to understand the writing in front of him, the more the fear took hold.

  He was going to humiliate himself in front of her and Barbara, out in public. If he had to explain he couldn’t read the damned thing, they’d all pity him. Reassure him everything was okay when it wasn’t. Everything sucked.

  “I can’t make up my mind.” Michelle put her hand on his arm. “Alex, would you do me a favor?”

  He swallowed again. He’d do anything for her as long as it didn’t mean reading this menu. “Of course.”

  “Let me order two of these dishes, and we’ll share,” she said. “That way I can try them both.”

  He stared at her, and she looked back evenly. She gave no sign she’d seen the thunderstorm going on inside him, thank heaven. But he still felt shame at needing her to order for him. At being unable to read a damn menu.

  At least lunch was saved. No matter wha
t they put in front of him, he’d eat it. He could pay the bill well enough, and that would be that. Finally, he could take a normal breath.

  He did so, leaning back in his chair. Barbara and Michelle ordered, their conversation no more than a buzz around him. He’d dodged a bullet this time, but as long as he had Michelle with him, the greater the chance she’d discover the truth and realize he wasn’t good enough for her.

  …

  When Michelle had packed this dress, she’d planned to knock Alex’s eyes out of his head with it. Same thing with the insanely high-heeled shoes. She’d had them dyed to match the gold sequins covering the sheath that would conform to her body. With any luck it wouldn’t appear obvious about the effect she wanted to create. Sophisticated and sexy. Suggestive but understated.

  She stood in front of the mirror in the cottage bathroom, brushing and brushing her hair until it shone. She’d banished Alex so she could get ready to surprise him. Originally, she’d expected to make him appreciate her femininity. Mission accomplished there, more than she could have imagined.

  Only now she had to face the fact that she’d failed miserably at the other part of her objective…keeping things casual. How could she have thought she could keep her feelings reined in where Alex was concerned? She worshipped him as a kid. He’d grown into the most desirable man on earth. How could she not fall head-over-heels for him?

  Their time together had been heaven—having his kisses and his smiles. Sleeping in the warmth of his body. Everything about being in love except the promises to stay together. Neither of them had brought up what would happen after the party ended and they went back to their normal lives.

  She was a coward. She might as well admit it. Waiting for him to make the first move. What if she asked him to make this into a real relationship and he refused? After all, she’d made the true sexual advances. She’d insisted kissing and touching were no big deal. She’d lured him into the place that before had held so many bad memories for her so they could make love. For heaven’s sake, she’d seduced him in the bedroom he’d occupied as a boy.

  Aside from the first morning when they’d awakened and made love, she’d asked for sex every time, even making sure he returned to the cottage to sleep with her every night. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to reject her and hurt her again the way he had eight years ago. Maybe he was doing it out of lust and yes, caring about her feelings. That might be enough for here, in this cottage, but not after they left.

  Damn it, why did she have to be so insecure about men and dating? Any psych student could diagnose it all went back to her father’s rejection. The knowledge didn’t make her any more confident. Every time she pictured telling Alex she wanted to be with him and asking for a future together, a sinking feeling in her stomach told her a rejection would destroy her last shred of self-worth. Stupid to be that way, but this leopardess couldn’t change her spots. No, she couldn’t bring the subject up. She’d have to let him do it.

  In the meantime, she’d rock him back on his heels with this outfit, and then, he’d be sure to ask—no, demand—that they set up house in Boston with him commuting to New York for games and practice. Probably a silly fantasy but it was all she had. She’d come this far, succeeded in making him want her. Now she’d take her game to the next level. Yeah, feminine wiles would win the day, and she wouldn’t have to take any risks.

  When she had her hair the way she wanted it, she twisted it into a chignon and pinned it to the back of her head. Sophisticated and maybe a little aloof, so she let one curl hang loose to brush her shoulder. Then she reached to the crystal bottle and used the stopper to apply perfume behind her ears and on the insides of her elbows. Just for the hell of it, she added a dab between her breasts. The bodice didn’t dip low enough to shock anyone, but it did hint at cleavage.

  She’d never felt like a femme fatale before, and she couldn’t quite manage now. She could picture herself as desirable though, ever since she’d witnessed the hunger in Alex’s eyes when he looked at her.

  She applied foundation and blush and then a dab of eye shadow. Mascara made her lashes thick and long, and she practiced a smoldering stare. That had her in giggles, though. So not her. But overall, she looked damned good. With the addition of lipstick to make her mouth appear full and appealing, she’d finished her makeup. So she went into the bedroom in search of jewelry and her shoes.

  Her glance fell on the lupines, which had faded in the jar. Wildflowers didn’t live long after being cut, but in her mind’s eye, these would always be fresh. The little girl who’d found them and proclaimed her two accomplices her princes had grown up. Princes didn’t really exist, at least not the kind in fairy tales. These days, most princes were ugly or bald or middle-aged and not very nice. They didn’t fight dragons and rescue damsels in distress. Fantasy faded like the lupines when faced with reality.

  What had she gotten herself into? Falling in love with her brother’s best friend. Her own closest friend while growing up. All the intertwined relationships. She got all her parental love and pride from Alex’s mother and father. She’d had to live without that for eight years because she’d screwed up with Alex. What if she’d done it again? Monumentally.

  She couldn’t let herself worry about that now. She had a party to attend and a man to impress. No matter what else happened, she’d make darned sure Alex never forgot how she looked tonight. She went to the dresser and opened her jewelry box. Nothing showy would do. Given the drama of her dress and shoes, she’d better stick to understated. Simple gold stud earrings and a diamond bracelet would complete her look. She didn’t even wear any rings. Then she got the shoes out of their box, stepped into them, and buckled the straps around her ankles. They made her legs look insanely long, and she smiled. She’d capture the attention of a certain NFL linebacker. The only question was, how long could she hold it?

  Chapter Nine

  Alex tugged at his collar for probably the fifth time in the last hour. Wearing a suit didn’t normally bother him. Neither did ties. But trying to mingle in a crowd like this one set his nerves on edge. Literati, all of them, in fiction or non-fiction. Either authors or editors or publishers at his father’s company. Even family members and local residents attending were educated and well-read. How long before one or more of them noticed he hadn’t read a book in years? He’d barely managed to keep his dyslexia hidden from Michelle at lunch. This was ten times worse.

  He circulated because Mom had asked him to. He dropped in on conversations and dropped out again when the subject turned to books. He liked movies, but he preferred action films to navel-gazing foreign cinema. He liked to eat but had no interest in the latest places that served four raspberries in the center of a huge plate and charged two hundred dollars for a meal. How did he ever get born into this family?

  Chase sidled up to him and handed him a glass of beer. “Here you go, big guy.”

  Alex drank. “I didn’t know brewskis were allowed at a party like this.”

  “Come on, Alex. Everyone here is a regular person.”

  “Oh, yeah? How about him?” Alex pointed to a bearded man wearing a beret. He was talking to a small pencil-thin woman in a black dress. When Alex had wandered by their conversation, he’d overheard words like “paradigm” and “post-modern.”

  “Alfred’s a poet,” Chase said. “We publish his books.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “Instead of judging people, why don’t you try talking to someone?” Chase said.

  “I’m sure they’d love to hear about tailgating and monster truck rallies.”

  Chase looked at him as if he’d never heard anything so dumb. “Do you do those things?”

  “No, but they probably think I do.”

  “Big brother, you’re totally wrong about them and you.” Chase patted him on the back. “But if you want to wallow, I’ll leave you to it.”

  Chase left him, and he started mentally kicking himself. They probably were all perfectly nice individuals. Unfortunately
, in groups, they gave Alex the willies. They spoke a language he didn’t understand with an authority that made him felt completely left out. Thank heaven his father had another child to carry on the family business or Stafford Publishing would be in a heap of trouble.

  He finished his beer and went to find some way to make himself useful. That would pass the time.

  He found Kyle chatting up a pretty blonde…again thin, thin, thin. Why did people think that was attractive? Kyle spotted him and waved him over. “Alex, you should meet Olivia…”

  “Upton,” she supplied as she extended her hand. When he shook, she eyed him up and down. Checking out his body. Lots of practice and hours in the weight room gave most players a muscular physique easy to spot. As a linebacker, he was one of the larger positions on the team. Women looked at him a lot and not always for innocent reasons.

  “Olivia writes food and travel guides,” Kyle said.

  Did she? She might travel, but she clearly didn’t eat much.

  “Are you with Stafford Publishing?” she asked.

  “Jim’s my dad.”

  “Oh, the football player.” She put her fingers over her lips. “I should have known.”

  “You’re not required to recognize me.”

  “Alex holds the season record for tackles,” Kyle answered. As if that would impress someone like Olivia Upton.

  “That’s…wonderful.” She went back to checking him out. Delightful.

  “Say, have you seen Michelle around?” he asked Kyle.

  “No, and it’s not like her to be late for something,” Kyle said.

  “Hm.” He could go looking for her, but she’d sent him away from the cottage and threatened him with an unpleasant death if he came back. Maybe she was mingling elsewhere and he’d find her if he kept moving.

  Just then she appeared at the edge of the crowd. With the long days, the sun hadn’t set yet, and the lingering rays caught her dress, making it shimmer in the light. It fit her perfectly, suggesting every curve he’d had the privilege to explore. Her bare arms and long neck made her the most graceful creature he’d ever seen, and the curl hanging to her shoulder accentuated the effect. And her legs. Oh my God. To think she’d had them wrapped around him.