Loving Lizbeth

by Ruth Langan

  “What do you recommend?” he asked her. “The burger with mushrooms, or without?”

  Lizbeth shrugged. “It’s your call. Personally, I prefer the burger with everything. And the Pub’s special fries.”

  “That good, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay. We’ll make it two.”

  He gave their order to the waitress and sat back to watch the passing crowd. Main Street was a parade of couples with strollers and wagons, their older children darting here and there as they chased each other in a game of tag. There were teens rollerblading. Older folks seated on benches, nodding greetings to their neighbors. Everyone in the town, it seemed, had spilled out of their homes to enjoy the warmth of a spring evening.

  The ice cream parlor down the block was doing a brisk business. As was the deli across the street.

  By the time the waitress brought them a second beer, a few of the tables had begun to empty. Older couples were eager to return to their homes and their favorite television shows or their bridge game with neighbors. Children fidgeted, eager to be outdoors before it grew too dark.

  When the burgers and fries were served, the crowd had thinned. Most of those who remained were regulars. Young, hip businesspeople sprinkled with a few oldtimers who kept up a lively discussion of sports and politics.

  After his first bite Colin looked over at Lizbeth. “You were right. This was worth waiting for.”

  “I thought you’d enjoy it. Sometimes, just thinking about the Pub’s burgers has my mouth watering.”

  Colin found his mouth watering, too. But it wasn’t for food. The sight of her, relaxed and happy, reminded him that all the burgers in the world wouldn’t satisfy the appetite that was building inside him.

  When the waitress returned to check on their drinks, Lizbeth shook her head. “I think I’d better have coffee now, Kim.”

  Colin nodded. “Make it two.”

  When they finished their meal and were sipping their coffee, he pointed to the row of video games along the wall. “Have you ever played?”

  She shook her head.

  “You’re kidding. Never?”

  “No. I don’t even know what they are.”

  “I can see that your education in the finer things has been sorely lacking.” He caught her hand. “Come on.”

  He led her to the bank of games and pulled her down on a seat beside him. “This is virtual auto racing. We’ll be racing against each other.”

  “How?”

  “You put your foot on the accelerator or brake, and keep your eye on that screen. The object is to beat my car to the finish line.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  He shot her a sideways glance as he dropped in some coins. Within seconds two cars appeared on the screen, their engines revving. A flag appeared, then suddenly lowered.

  Her car remained at the starting line.

  Colin nudged her elbow. “You have to hit the gas.”

  “Oh. Right.” She floored the pedal and her car leapt ahead, then smashed into a brick wall.

  She let out a shriek, followed by a giggle when she realized that everyone had turned to look at her.

  Colin left his car idling, while he showed her how to slowly back up, then get her car onto the track. She floored the pedal again and sent her car careening over a low wall, a hydrant, a series of street signs and a flower bed, before smashing into a line of trees.

  For a moment she looked horrified. Then, realizing it was only a game, and the cars on the screen would spring back to life with the touch of a pedal, she began laughing until tears streamed down her face. By the time she’d backtracked and returned to the race, the time was up.

  “Oh, darn. I can’t believe I wasted so much time.” Her eyes were bright with pleasure. “It feels so real watching all that action on the screen. Especially when you’re involved in a crash.”

  “Want to try again?”

  “Yes. I know I can get the hang of this.”

  He dropped in more coins and watched as she lowered the pedal slowly, keeping her car on a steady course along the track.

  “Now you’ve got it,” he called as his car passed hers.

  “Maybe. But I’ll never win like this.” She floored the pedal and struggled to keep her car within the limits of her side of the track.

  Their two cars raced head to head for several turns before Lizbeth took her eyes off the screen long enough to glance at Colin. The next thing she knew her car was swerving off the track and heading right for a high wall. She turned the wheel and overcorrected, sending the car into the grandstands, where people could be seen flying through the air while her car turned into a ball of fire.

  Again she let out a shriek before bursting into gales of laughter.

  “I’m hopeless at this.”

  “I wouldn’t say hopeless. You managed to stay on track for a whole minute before killing half the fans who’d come to cheer you.”

  “That’s just because I got careless. One more,” she said. “And this time I intend to beat you.”

  “Really? Would you care to make a wager?”

  “All right.” Her eyes glittered with anticipation. “What should we play for?”

  Oh, this was almost too easy. If he were a better man, he thought, he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. But what the hell. “How about a goodnight kiss?”

  “You’re on.” She was smiling as he dropped in the coins. This time she was taking no chances. She eased down on the pedal and kept her gaze fixed on the screen, taking the first curve with ease, before moving into the second. She managed to avoid the various obstacles that were randomly tossed in her path. A dog, ambling across the track. A loose tire flying through the air, then landing directly in front of her car. When the path was clear she gathered speed as she took her car up the steep hill, and by the time she was headed down the other side she had the pedal floored.

  She took the last curve of track almost a car-length ahead of Colin’s vehicle, and was laughing hysterically as she headed for the finish line. “This time, Mr. St. James, I have you beat.”

  Just then, another racecar pulled out of the pits directly in front of her car. She twisted the wheel and her car turned sideways and slid across the inside of the track, smashing into one car after another before turning upside down and disintegrating.

  She looked over to see Colin’s car cross the finish line, to the cheers of the fans in the stands.

  “Ah well.” He turned toward her with a knowing smile. “Look at it this way. You get to walk home with a winner.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind when I pay up.”

  He helped her to her feet and kept her hand in his. “This is one bet I can’t wait to collect.”

  The streetlights had come on, casting soft yellow pools of light in the darkness. The moon was a slice of gold; the stars a scattering of diamonds. Walking along beside Colin, her hand still tucked in his, Lizbeth couldn’t remember when she’d laughed this hard, or had such silly, spontaneous fun.

  “I never would have found the nerve to try one of those games by myself.”

  “Really? Why?”

  She shrugged. “For one thing, I had no idea they were such fun. I used to watch the people hooting and hollering while they played, and figured it took a lot of special skill to play.” She laughed aloud. “I’m so glad we went to the Pub.”

  He looked over. “Even though I beat you?”

  “Only because you’ve had more experience with that game. Give me another chance and I’ll win.”

  “A glutton for punishment, I see.”

  “Oh, you’re so smug. Now I’ll have to risk it just to prove that I can win.”

  “Anytime, Ms. Sullivan. How about next Friday?”

  “You’re on.”

  “All right. It’s a date.”

  A date. The very word had her stumbling, before she untangled her feet and managed to continue walking.<
br />
  He paused beneath a streetlight and closed a hand over their linked hands. “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” But she had to look away quickly so he wouldn’t see the sudden fear in her eyes. She’d just agreed to a real date. But then, wasn’t that what this had been? And it had been fun. She hadn’t felt clumsy or awkward. Of course, there hadn’t been time to get all worked up about it. It had happened without rhyme or reason. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy. But next Friday… She’d have a whole week to worry and fret and sweat about it.

  They paused at the garden gate and Colin reached over to unlatch it before holding it open. When it swung closed they walked together to the porch and climbed the steps.

  At the door he paused. “Want to sit awhile, or are you too tired?”

  “I think I’ll go up to bed now.”

  “All right. I think I’ll stay out here.” He touched a hand to his pocket. “Bill Yardley gave me one of his cigars today. This seems like a good time to smoke it.”

  “I’ll say goodnight then.” As she started to turn she felt his hand on her shoulder.

  His voice, so close beside her, had her trembling. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

  She’d forgotten nothing. But she’d hoped he had.

  She turned. “Oh yes. The bet.”

  “That’s right. There’s the matter of that little debt you owe me, Lizbeth. And I intend to collect.”

  “All right.” Determined to get it over with as quickly and painlessly as possible, she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his.

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her back. In fact, all the way home he’d told himself to keep it light. He’d been certain he could carry it off. Until the moment her lips touched his. He’d allowed himself to sink into that cool, sweet innocence. And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

  His arms came around her, pinning her to the length of him. Those soft, tempting curves were pressed to his body, stirring his blood. She tasted so good he wanted to devour her, inch by tantalizing inch. And because she had gone so still and quiet, he took his time, sliding deeper into the kiss, pleasuring them both.

  She was so warm. So sweet. So delicious. Steeped in pleasure, he moved his hands from her shoulders to her back to her waist. When he slid his hands under her sweater he found silk. And beneath that, warm, soft flesh. Flesh that seemed to melt at his touch.

  She’d had no time to prepare herself. And now, with his mouth on hers, she couldn’t breathe. With his hands skimming over her she couldn’t move. Heart trembling, her legs threatening to fail her, she leaned weakly against the door, allowing him to kiss her, to touch her. A strange sound, like a soft animal purring, escaped her throat. She was helpless to stop it. Or to stop the heat that pulsed through her, sending the most amazing sparks through her already overcharged system.

  He lingered over the kiss, unwilling to end it. Instead, he changed the angle and took it deeper. Took them both higher. And then, for good measure, higher still.

  He felt the way she quivered in his arms. Heard the way her breath caught in her throat. And knew he’d taken her too far, too fast. But something perverse in his nature pushed him to take even more.

  He nipped at her lower lip and absorbed the little shudders of breath that told him she was as close to the edge as he. One minute more, one tiny nudge, and they’d both tumble over the precipice and find themselves soaring.

  As much as he wanted it, he knew she wasn’t ready for this step.

  Ever so slowly he eased back, keeping his hands steady at her shoulders.

  Her skin was flushed. Her mouth still swollen from his kiss. Her breath was coming hard and fast. Her lids fluttered, then opened. She looked as stunned as he felt. But beneath that wide-eyed look of fear, he thought he detected something more. The unmistakable pull of desire.

  That realization caused a little thrill of triumph.

  He struggled to keep his tone light, despite the fact that he wanted, right this minute, to take her. Quick and fast. Here and now. And to hell with propriety. “I can hardly wait to see what we’ll play for next time.”

  “I don’t think…” She swallowed, surprised at how difficult it was to speak over the dryness in her throat. “I don’t think we’d be wise to play for such stakes a second time.”

  He skimmed a hand over her cheek and felt the heat. Stunned, he lowered it to his side, where he clenched it into a fist. “Do we always have to be wise? Can’t we just forget the rules sometimes, and do what makes us happy?”

  “I’ve learned—” her voice lowered with feeling “—there’s always a price to pay for breaking the rules.”

  His eyes narrowed on hers. “What price did you have to pay, Lizbeth?”

  “I have to go in now. I’m feeling—” she turned away and tore open the door, desperate to escape “—really tired. Good night, Colin.”

  He watched the flutter of her skirt as she hurried away. For long minutes he stood still, listening to the sound of her footsteps as she raced up the stairs. Then he turned and made his way to the glider, easing himself down, before pulling the cigar from his pocket. Light flared as he held a match to the tip. Then he leaned back.

  He sat in the darkness, mulling over what she’d said. It was all beginning to make sense to him now.

  Ever since he’d first seen her, he’d wondered why a beautiful, talented woman, so easy and open with everyone she knew, would seem to close up each time he got near.

  She was like some wounded bird. In need of someone’s tender ministrations, and yet afraid to allow anyone close enough to even touch her.

  It was obvious that she’d been hurt. The question was, how deeply? Deep enough, it would seem, to keep her at arm’s length from a man who’d been making no secret of his attraction to her.

  So, did he want to pursue this further?

  And if he did, would she ever allow him to get close enough to take this to another level? Or would she hide herself away, out of fear of being hurt even more?

  “So, little bird.” He exhaled a wreath of rich smoke. “What will it be? Do you hide away in your cage? Or do you risk it all and try to fly again?”

  He leaned his head back to stare at the night sky. She might not be aware of it, but he’d detected a well of strength just beneath that shy sweet face she presented to the world.

  He’d bet his money that, given the chance, she’d fly.

  Chapter 6

  Lizbeth was too agitated to undress. Besides, her hands were still trembling. She was afraid if she tried to unbutton her sweater, she’d tear off all the buttons. Instead she sank slowly to the edge of the bed and simply sat there.

  She’d never, ever been kissed like that. Had never even known anyone could kiss like that. Her head was still spinning, her blood still too hot. And her heart. She touched a hand to the spot and felt the way it was thundering. Her poor heart might never be the same again.

  What had just happened out there on the porch? How had a simple kiss turned into that…that…situation? She felt as she’d been thrust into some windowless airless room. She’d been afraid to breathe. Afraid to move, for fear of being devoured by some…monster.

  Not a monster, she realized. She’d been afraid of being devoured by her own hunger.

  She’d wanted him. Wanted to just tear off her clothes and give herself to him and beg him to end this need. Such a huge, hungry need to be held and loved by him.

  Was it the same for Colin? Did he feel this overpowering need for her? Or was this just the way a man, any man, would act, as long as a woman permitted it? She didn’t know. Oh, she wrapped her arms around herself and began to pace restlessly. That was the terrible part of all this. She simply didn’t know.

  She thought about her sisters. She could ask Alex, the family tomboy. She’d married Grant Malone this past winter. Before the wedding, she’d confided that falling in love with Grant had been the most frightening, and the most wondrous, thing she’d ever experienced. But s
he hadn’t seemed afraid. In fact, Lizbeth had never seen her older sister so blissfully happy.

  They were so different, she and Alex. Alex had always been the fearless one. The one willing to set off on a trail, any trail, without a care in the world. Maybe she had once been that way, too, Lizbeth mused. But now that she was aware of the price exacted for hasty decisions, she’d become much more cautious. No, timid was the word that suited her now. She slapped a hand against the edge of the quilt. Timid. And she hated it.

  She thought about phoning her younger sister, Celeste. Elegant, sophisticated Celeste would probably be able to recommend any number of high-minded texts on the subject of frigidity brought about by trauma and guilt. But then she would have to admit to Celeste that she’d spent these past ten years in nearly complete celibacy, except for a few disastrous attempts. And that she would never do. She simply couldn’t imagine baring her soul’s secrets to either of her sisters.

  She would have to muddle through on her own.

  Deep in thought, she went through the motions of removing her clothes and hanging them in the closet before slipping into a modest, white, eyelet trimmed nightgown.

  Feeling as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, she crawled into bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. Instead she tossed and turned and thought about the way she’d felt in Colin’s arms.

  She hadn’t believed she could ever feel like this. But what good would it do to encourage him? Sooner or later he’d find out that she was simply no good at sex.

  There. She’d admitted it to herself.

  A tear squeezed from the corner of her eye and she brushed it away with the heel of her hand. She wouldn’t cry. She’d done enough of that to last a lifetime.

  She rolled to her other side and punched her pillow, then scrunched her eyes tightly shut and began counting backwards from one thousand. It was a trick she’d taught herself years ago. And though it sometimes took her an hour or more, it kept her from allowing unpleasant thoughts to sneak in. She would not wallow in self-pity ever again.