Dixie watched as Emily practically hurried them out the door.
Without a word, Dixie gathered the dirty dishes and took them into the kitchen, where she proceeded to wash them, as though nothing had happened.
"Oh, Dixie, I'm so sorry, dear. Julia can be so crude at times. I wasn't expecting to see her today." Emily stammered for an apology, as she brought the last of the dishes to the sink.
Sinking her hands into the warm soapy water, Dixie felt the tension draining from her. She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't worry about it. I've handled much worse than Mrs. Butie before. Have you ever heard of gossip columnists?" She laughed. "Besides, it keeps the senses sharpened. I only hope I haven't harmed your relationship with her. You've been friends a long time now."
"Don't worry about that, dear. Our relationship has never been on solid ground."
"Somehow, I get the idea that Janet doesn't like Amanda."
"She knows very little about children, and Amanda hasn't taken to her at all. Not like she took to you, at least. Poor little thing. She's never had a mother, really, that she can remember." She glanced at Dixie then added, "And poor Julia, she's had such a bad time of things lately. Her heart's very bad. And she's so anxious for Janet to settle down and get married. I don't think there's a thing between her and Mike. Mike's certainly not in love with her. No, if I had my guess, I'd say Mike has been waiting for something or someone for a long time. He never speaks about it to me of course."
"Mom," Dixie stopped what she was doing and faced her, "I once thought Mike liked Audrey."
Emily glanced at her strangely, "Well, I know they dated once but—"
"Well, anyway, he's practically engaged to Janet, according to Mrs. Butie."
"Yes, according to Mrs. Butie." Emily shot her a curious glance. "I think Audrey was too much of a realist for Mike, and of course they were very young then. Now, he's a man, and I think he's ready to settle down again. Amanda does need a mother's influence, but I don't think Janet knows the first thing about it. It's unfortunate for her. But, you know, I think Mike has missed romance in his life. I think his wife must have been a lot like Audrey."
"Audrey was sweet. But I guess she did have a logical kind of mind. Why, does he compare them?"
"No, not really. I do. I don't know, dear, only from what I've picked up from him. He married her when he moved off to play football. They never came home. I'm told she was a very sweet little thing, though. It hurt Mike when she died, of course, but I have the feeling even that marriage wasn't all it was cut out to be. He's hinted she was quite a daddy's girl. And just a tad spoiled. Maybe that's why he's looking a little harder this time for a wife. Being pickier. Anyway, they had Amanda, and he had no time to feel sorry for himself then. He just rolled up his sleeves and began being both father and mother to that little girl. She adores him."
"You like Mike, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, dear, very much. He's been like family to me. Always willing to come over at a moment's notice to help me. He and the boys certainly get along. I think he's led a lonesome life, except for his little Mandy. His mother dying when he was born, and then his dad remarrying and having Kevin. His dad died only a few years ago, his stepmother remarried and moved away. Kevin rarely sees her. And Mike took care of his dad, too, right up to the day. Mike's a family man. He thought the world of his dad. It's just too bad he doesn't have a wife to make a real family for him.
"Janet is always following him about, always the do-gooder. Everyone knows how she feels about him. And he might marry her, except she doesn't take to the child very well. I seriously don't think Janet takes to any child too well."
"She can learn. Some women take longer, but it's instinctive, don't you think?"
"I don't know, dear. No one really knows how he feels about her, though. Trouble is, in a small town there aren't too many choices, and Mike doesn't venture too far away from home. So, who knows? Strange, but I always liked Mike better than Kevin. Although, I must admit, Kevin is a fine young politician. Done a lot for our town. One of the most outstanding men in the community."
"I'm surprised Kevin hasn't been over, to say hello at least."
"He'll be around. He's a busy man these days."
"Tell me about Kevin's marriage."
"Well, let's see, he married June Summers. Just after your last visit, in fact. They dated off and on. She became a big help to him in his campaign. She taught Sunday school for a while. It was no surprise to anyone when he finally asked her to marry him. Naturally they had a big wedding. They have one boy, two-years-old, and another on the way. Nice looking couple, too. They seem very content with each other, but Kevin acts much older than Mike, even though the reverse is true. Kevin is an old man now, just like his mother was always an older woman."
"He's happy?"
"Like a pea in a pod."
"I'm glad."
"Now, tell me about your Ed, dear." Emily sounded quite curious.
Dixie turned to look at her again, startled. "My Ed. I've never even thought of him as mine. You're beginning to sound just like Mrs. Butie. He's not my Ed. He's not my anything, except my boss. I like him. He's helped me work my way up the ladder at the recording studio. But I'm not in love with him." She stopped and listened to herself. She wasn't in love with Ed. "I work with him. When I think of Ed, I think of work. But, I'll admit he's nice. Some people think him too tight laced, and much too ambitious."
"Then you aren't going to marry him?"
After a long pause Dixie answered the question. "No, I'm not going to marry Ed. I'm not in love with him." As soon as she said it, she knew it was the truth. She blew a soap bubble at her mother. "Marriage is too serious to rush into. I like Ed, but not the way you might think. Besides," she sighed, "marriage is out of the question right now. Not that I haven't considered it before. Even with Ed. I mean... it would work out marvelously, both of us being in the same business, able to share our work. But there's no magic between us. And call me a romantic, but I like a little magic."
When she turned around, she spotted Mike leaning negligently against the counter. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
"Don't stop on my account. It was just getting interesting. You were about to say how you like a little magic in a relationship."
Always mocking her! She shot him a disapproving glance.
"Oh, I knocked, but there was no answer, so I came on in."
"Hello, Mike. Where's Amanda?" Emily asked.
"Knee deep in play dough. Ms. Ferris indulged her this morning. Better her than me."
"You should have brought her. I used to be an expert with play dough." Dixie chuckled, glad they had changed the subject.
"Really?" he drawled, his eyes glittering at Dixie. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. "You're very good with children, aren't you?"
"I don't know. I've never much thought about it."
God, he looked nice, in snug fitting black jeans and red-checkered shirt. He had that just showered look, too, and his clean-shaven jaw invited a caress. My, how her mind was taking flight.
Emily smiled, patted Mike on the arm, then left the room, murmuring some excuse under her breath. The kitchen shrank. Electrical currents seemed to illuminate the room, bouncing off one wall, hitting her, another wall, hitting him. Dixie pretended to clean everything, counter tops, tabletops, refrigerator, everything, avoiding all eye contact with Mike.
She was sure she would escape him, until she felt his hands at the ties of her apron, and his breath mingling in the softness of her hair, like a feather touching all the sensitive places. She shivered slightly.
Danger lurked in his eyes as she barely glanced at him and moved away. Warning bells deafened her. Now he was flirting.
"I...I was just telling Mother..." She saw him move closer out of the corner of one eye, and she headed for the sink to wash the lettuce. She began chopping the vegetables for a salad. "When and if I eventually settle down, it will probably be to Ed or someone ve
ry much like him. You know, someone in the recording business."
He stopped. The clock on the wall stopped. Her chopping stopped.
"I seriously doubt that," he murmured.
He sounded so sure. Unnerved by the sureness in his voice, she whirled about, forgetting to keep a safe distance. The large knife in her hands stood between them. She chucked it in the sink.
Intoxicated by the sweet clean smell of him, her hands itched to touch him. Just a touch, but that could be dangerous—and what would he think? What would it be like to touch Mike? To really touch him? Why was her mind so scattered?
Two big arms came around her, not touching, but so very close, and he deliberately leaned toward her, making her face him. Fighting the urge to meet him half way, she hardened her voice at him—afraid she might succumb and be subjected to his rejection, again.
"H…how do you know?" It came out in a whisper. Not effective.
An impish grin played at his lips; lips that captured a woman's imagination. She remembered how those lips felt on hers, and flushed.
"Because a man like that couldn't begin to handle you."
Cat and mouse games.
"Maybe I don't want to be handled!" she gasped.
His grin broadened as he stared down into her pink face. "Yes, and maybe you're just waiting for the right man for the job! A man with a little … magic."
She almost trembled from the force of resisting going into his arms. He was a magnet. She had to force herself to remember this was the man who accused her of seducing his brother. Of practically seducing him. He wasn't really an available male; he just seemed to be. They could never have a real relationship—she lived in New York, worked in New York—his home was here. It would never work. And yet… Despite all the arguments going on in her head, the urge to resist this man was crumbling.
"Maybe," she barely murmured, her heart hammering so wildly she was afraid he might actually hear it. An aimless tear slipped down her rose-tinted cheek. It was painful not letting herself feel something.
A callused, but gentle hand, reached to wipe the tear away. She closed her eyes, held her breath, as his other hand gently tilted her chin. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, and knew he was about to kiss her. But he hesitated. Again.
Her eyes opened, locking with his.
His lips hovered above hers, tempting, inviting, questioning. Did he want her to beg? At this moment, she would gladly beg, if only he would just kiss her and end this agony between them. Maybe if he kissed her, it might dispel the unexplainable pull he had on her. What would one little kiss hurt? Why couldn't they play out the scene? It might not mean anything in the long run, but at least it would get rid of the tension between them.
"No," his voice was softly stroking her, as her eyes came open and her head raised almost even with his. He shook his head, his eyes glittering into hers. "When I kiss you—and I will kiss you, Dixie—it's going to be long and memorable for both of us. And it'll be everything you could hope for. I'll brand it into your memory, into your soul. And you'll forget you ever wanted a Kevin, or an Ed, again," he whispered, just as the phone rang.
Oh, God, saved by the bell, and yet, did she want to be saved? Snuffing the sigh within her she straightened and turned away, cheeks flaming. Still, his arms encircled her, preventing any escape.
Arms that represented both security and insanity, she thought wildly as her head lolled aimlessly, inches from his chest. She thought she heard the wild beat of his heart when he suddenly drew her back against him, his hands circling her waist, warm and comforting. In that instant she knew he'd wanted that kiss as much as she had, for his own body betrayed him with a shudder. For an instant she let herself be pulled back into the rapture of his arms. He didn't have to kiss her now. She was feeling everything she possibly could from his nearness alone. It was almost as if she were absorbing him. Her knees shook, her lips trembled, her mouth went dry, and her body actually ached to be touched—and yet it went beyond mere physical reactions.
Dixie was acutely aware of some wild soul-searching, gut-wrenching feelings growing between them. God, somehow Mike had broken through her feelings for Kevin and transferred them to him.
Her nostrils filled with the sweet scent of hay, and a woodsy odor that was all Mike.
Years ago she had seen the man, the physical man. Now, she saw beyond that. Mike—the family man, the loving man, the goodness within him. She found herself wanting to know this man—really know him—like others did. She wanted him to confide in her, talk to her, walk with her, to share his hurts, and his dreams. She wanted to know what made Mike Dalton tick.
This is madness, Dixie thought. Why did she and Mike seem to continually torture each other? Wasn't it enough to simply want each other? Did these emotions have to reach in and grab her very soul—and seize her heart?
His lips were in her hair. "Hmm." He sighed as he held her there. Her back solidly against him now, she felt him shudder again. "You remind me of a honeysuckle vine, sweet and tempting. Someday we're going to finish what we always seem to start, sweetheart."
Promise? her mind spun.
With emotions in danger of erupting, she started to face Mike when Emily called from the hallway. "Dixie, the phone is for you. It's Ed, I think."
Mike let her go instantly, and Dixie was afraid to look back as she escaped to the phone. What would she see in his face? Her mind was anywhere but on Ed at this moment.
"Did I interrupt something?" Emily saw her strange expression.
"Uh, no, of course not," Dixie insisted, grabbing the phone.
She heard Mike add, "Nothing that won't keep a while longer."
What did he mean? And how much longer? She didn't have much time here at home. Moments were precious.
"Dixie?" came Ed's excited voice over the receiver as she stood there holding it in mid-air, trembling with aftershocks.
"Yes, Ed," she managed, trying to mask the slight quiver in her voice. She had to sit before she fell. Mike couldn't have affected her more if he had kissed her.
How could she possibly carry on a conversation with Ed right now, after being nearly made love to, in the kitchen? Whatever it was that was going on between her and Mike had her completely baffled. She had vowed long ago never to get too close to him. Looking back, she realized she had always been attracted to him.
Why else would she continually bug her sister about their relationship? Another relationship that never got off the ground.
When she hung up, she hadn't the slightest idea what Ed had said to her, or her to him.
Still in a stupor, Mike confronted her once more, his face a storm cloud. "Your mother just told me about your working the baseball throw. That can be a rather unpleasant experience. Do you really think that's wise?"
He seemed so angry when minutes ago, he held her in his arms. Walking numbly around him and back to the kitchen, she half turned to look into his concerned face. "Nonsense. It will be fun."
He nodded, the storm fading, replaced by an equally stern look. "Can you swim?"
"You ask that question, knowing my father? A man who was famous for throwing his kids in the water and leaving them to sink or swim?"
"That was years ago. How long has it been?"
"Too long," she protested. "Please," she reached to grip his hand, a mistake, because every time she touched this man it was like setting off small wild fires through her entire body, "stop fretting, it will be a blast."
Mike's frown remained. But his eyes darkened with intensity as though he had a few fires to put out too.
She shook her head and looked from Emily to Mike, and let out a chuckle. Tawny gold eyes surveyed her, burning her with such intensity.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
"I consider myself warned."
"Okay, if that's what you want. But I still don't think it's a good idea."
That same evening Mike and Amanda came for supper. Amanda was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, as usual, and Dixie
frowned.
"Doesn't this beautiful little girl have any dresses?" Dixie remarked at the table.
"A couple. But she's a tomboy; she doesn't need dresses, believe me." Mike gave Dixie a strange glance.
"What's she going to wear to the bazaar?"
"Jeans, why?"
"Don't you like dressing her up?"
"Not when five minutes later, she's ripping it to shreds, or getting all muddy, no." Mike glanced at his innocent-eyed daughter.
Afraid she might be overstepping it, Dixie changed the subject. Later, she whispered to Amanda, "Wanna go play dress up after supper?"
"What's that?" Amanda whispered back.
"It's where you put big people's clothes on, and prance around like an adult."
"Okay." Amanda smiled at her. "Will you play with me?"
"Sure."
Later, knee deep in hats, beads, and high heels, Amanda paraded around Dixie's room like a queen while Dixie watched with glee. Amanda insisted she dress up too, so Dixie put on a man's suit and tie, and a hat, and drew a mustache on her lip. Amanda laughed.
"You look funny."
"Gee, I thought I looked great," Dixie said with a chuckle.
It brought back old memories of her and her sister. She and Audrey used to parade around the house like that, years ago. God, she missed Audrey.
What a sweet little girl Amanda was. But she really needed a mother. It was obvious she hadn't played many little girl games. Not that Dixie was applying for the job. She didn't have time for kids or husbands. In a few days she'd be putting her nose back to the grindstone, with rehearsals and recording sessions. Still, she was on vacation. She wanted to have a little fun and it was a nice diversion having a small child around to play with.
"I like you," Amanda said coming up behind her and hugging her neck.
Dixie smiled, put her hand on the small child's arm and hugged her back. "I like you too, Mandy."
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