by Rachel Lee
If that kiss had lasted for an eternity, she wouldn’t have objected. Her arm crept up until her hand wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him close. Don’t stop. Oh, please, don’t stop.
He didn’t seem ready to. His lips lifted as his free hand crept up toward her breast and cupped it with a gentle squeeze. She caught her breath as pinwheels of light exploded behind her eyes and warmth began to transmute into sizzling heat. Was that her saying his name breathlessly over and over?
Then his mouth returned to hers, and this time his tongue plundered her, striking a rhythm that caused her whole body to clench in response. His hand began brushing over her breast, over her hardening nipple, and she shivered with pleasure.
Why had she avoided this her entire life? The question blew away on the storm of passion he was unleashing in her, a storm that was rapidly turning her into putty in his hands. Her hand slipped from his neck to his shoulder, her fingers digging in as if she were afraid she might fall.
A tornado of pleasure whipped inside her, sensations beyond imagining, and she wanted more. So much more. A throbbing heaviness between her thighs seemed to be seeking an answer of some kind. She felt so empty and full at the same time.
Then the doorbell rang.
Chapter Nine
“Aw, hell,” Tim said, after ripping his mouth from hers. He froze. Maybe they’d go away. Looking down at Vannie’s sleepy face and slightly swollen mouth, he wished the visitor to the devil.
The bell rang again. Damn it. Then from upstairs he heard Matthew’s sleepy voice.
“You okay, Daddy?”
His voice cracked as he said, “Fine. Go back to bed, buddy.”
He looked down at Vanessa again and saw awareness brightening her eyes. Then saw them widen.
“Oh!” she said and squirmed quickly off his lap.
That only made him ache harder. “Damn,” he said aloud.
“Matthew,” she whispered as she tried to straighten a shirt he hadn’t been able to rumple enough yet to need it.
“Yeah. Best birth control in the world. A kid.”
Astonishing him, a small giggle escaped her. “And someone who keeps ringing the doorbell.”
As if in answer to her statement, it rang again.
“God, I’m going to have some words for whoever it is. It’s after ten o’clock.”
“Maybe something’s wrong.”
That possibility was the only reason he forced himself to stand and walk over to answer it. He had the awful feeling that an opportunity had just been lost forever.
When he opened the door, he was not pleased to see Larry standing there. “What’s the matter?” he demanded. “You didn’t attack Vanessa enough last time? You need to draw more blood?”
“No,” Larry said. “I shouldn’t have... I just wanted her to know I’m sorry.” He looked past Tim, and by the way his eyes widened, Tim knew he saw Vanessa.
She spoke, surprising him. “Forget it, Larry. I’ve said plenty of bad things about my father.”
“I’m not going to forget it. I was wrong. Like you had any more to do with all that than I did.”
The wind was blowing in through the door, chilling the house rapidly. Much as he didn’t feel like it, Tim stepped back. “Get in here. My heating bill can’t take this.”
Larry crossed the threshold, taking two steps so that Tim could close the door behind him. Then he grudgingly offered the guy some hot coffee. Maybe it would be good for Vanessa if Larry really had had a change of heart.
“Thanks,” Larry said. “It’s colder than...” He broke off, stifling the bawdy line. Then he asked, “Is it really that cold anymore? Look at the Arctic.”
Tim let himself relax a bit. “It’s cold here tonight,” was his answer. “Come into the kitchen, if that’s okay with you, Vanessa.”
“It’s fine. Maybe Larry and I could use a little talk.”
Larry followed them into the kitchen while unzipping his jacket but not removing it. “I’d’ve come sooner, but I just got back in town a half hour ago.” He settled into one of the kitchen chairs while Tim started the pot of coffee he’d set up for morning brewing.
* * *
Vanessa sat across from Larry, glad that would put Tim in the middle, the place usually enjoyed by Matt. She was willing to give this a shot, but old, familiar tensions were already settling into her bones. Larry had proved her every fear right, and she could feel her walls slamming into place, preparing for another verbal assault.
For the first time she regretted those walls. Just a few minutes ago, they had been crumbling before the gentle onslaught of Tim’s sexual advances, and she’d been feeling so good. Now she was faced with the nightmare of the past again.
Nobody spoke while the coffeepot steamed and water dripped into the carafe below. Studying Larry, Vanessa realized he was as uncomfortable as she was.
At last Tim poured coffee for all of them and took the remaining chair. “Are we just going to sit here?” he asked.
Vanessa looked at him, sensing his impatience. Well, she felt impatient, too, considering what Larry had interrupted, but she felt a strong need to finish this, and here was her opportunity.
“I guess I should start,” Larry said. “My dad was angry about what happened, about what Bob did. And he blamed your father for drawing him into it. So when I heard you were in town, I blew up. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not any happier with my father,” Vanessa said. Might as well admit it. The man’s conduct had shadowed most of her life.
Larry grimaced. “I told my mother what I’d done when I called her from the road. If she’d been close, she might have skinned me.”
“Why?” Vanessa asked as anxiety began to rise in her. Her least favorite subject, yet one she hadn’t been able to get out of her mind since facing the fact that she had to come here. “Everyone probably thought the same things your father did.”
Larry shook his head. “Not according to my mother. First she ragged on me for attacking you. You were just a kid, she said, no older than me. You didn’t have a thing to do with what happened.”
“Very true,” Tim remarked. Vanessa saw him relaxing, leaning back in his chair as he sipped coffee.
“Exactly. When she said that, well, I didn’t need her to say anything else. I felt truly stupid. And bad. Then she told me something I didn’t know because I’d never talked to her about it.” He paused, lifting his mug of coffee and nearly draining it in on long draft.
“What was that?” Vanessa prompted.
Larry put down his mug and looked her straight in the eye. “She said nobody talked my dad into giving all that money to Bob. Nobody but Bob. She tried to talk him out of it again and again, warning him it was dangerous to put all his eggs in one basket. He was hell-bent on making money. She told me all his talk about it being your father’s fault as much as Bob’s was just because he felt like an idiot, he was furious and he wanted to blame someone. Bob got arrested, but your father left town. Apparently my dad thought yours got off scot-free. But as my mother reminded me, your dad lost his whole ranch. Not exactly scot-free.”
“Not exactly,” Vanessa agreed. Tension had filled her as it always did when this subject came up. She wished she could just release it, like air from a balloon. She wanted this to be over, but Larry had been strong enough and kind enough to come apologize for his outburst, and surely she owed him something. But what? “My dad was pretty messed up, too,” she said finally. “He lost every job he ever had and drank himself to death.”
Larry nodded. “I’m sorry. That’s pretty bad. Then I show up like an idiot and yell at you. My mother was right. You were just a kid. I was just a kid. It’s not up to either of us to pay for what they did, right or wrong. It’s not like we could have stopped it.”
Vanessa drew a breath
and decided to share her part of the truth with him. “My dad believed everyone here hated him.”
Larry shook his head. “Then I drop on you like that? I guess there aren’t enough apologies for me to make. As far as I know, my dad was the only guy who blamed your dad. I never heard a word of that from anyone else.”
He paused, drummed his fingers on the table briefly, then pushed back and stood. “I guess both of us had messed-up fathers. And my mother is right. We shouldn’t let them mess us up anymore.”
“Wise woman,” Vanessa said, wishing she could feel relief in her heart.
“Yeah, she usually is. Sorry for breaking up your evening, but the need to apologize was riding me. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
Then he headed for the door. Tim went to show him out while Vanessa remained at the table.
When Tim returned, he brought a draft of cold air with him. “That might not have been an emergency, but I’m glad he stopped by anyway. You needed to hear that.”
“Maybe so,” she said, and a long sigh escaped her. “I put it all behind me, Tim. I really did. Until Earl called and told me about the house. Then it came rushing back like a runaway train. All the old feelings, the fears, the anger. As fresh as it had ever been.”
“Then Larry.”
“Then Larry,” she agreed. “But even so, even as I’ve been running the maze inside my head trying to change myself, the thing is...”
“What?” he prompted eventually.
“I think scraping the walls in that house has been more therapeutic.”
“Really?”
She smiled faintly. “Yeah. Really. Every time I pull wallpaper down, it feels good. Like ripping up the past. So who knows? Maybe I am finally getting past it all. It might not change my personality, but maybe I can get rid of leftover anger and hurt.”
“I hope so. And by the way, there’s nothing wrong with your personality.”
“I wish I believed that.”
“You will when the anger’s gone. Anyway, just ask Matthew what he thinks about your personality. I happen to know he likes you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” But that wasn’t the thing topmost in her mind. Topmost was that an exquisite moment had passed. Larry had driven away the heated mist of desire that had overtaken her, that had lifted her so far out of herself that she felt like someone else. Deep inside, she knew she couldn’t call it back. Not now.
Even from the grave her father had done it again.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” she said, rising. The turmoil and anger were back, not as bad, but bad enough to get in the way of anything else. “See you in the morning, Tim.”
* * *
Tim listened to her walk down the hall. He was straddling two contradictory emotional states, and neither one was doing him a bit of good. He wanted to follow her down that hall and climb into bed with her and show her how good life could be. The other part of him felt that would now be a terrible intrusion.
Apology notwithstanding, Larry had reopened the very things that had been holding her apart from the start. She had been about to close the door on them, at least for a little while, when he’d arrived to shove it open once more.
Hell. Selfish as it was, he was still aflame with hunger for that woman, and no matter how much he told himself it was pointless and she didn’t really want it, he couldn’t smother it.
Not since Claire had he come as alive has he had been growing since Vanessa arrived. Why couldn’t he have reacted this way to a woman who didn’t have major problems to deal with? Why this woman?
It wasn’t just that she was beautiful in a restrained way. Or that she was essentially kind, to judge by her treatment of Matthew and her willingness to talk to a classroom full of kids. Was it because he felt the same hollowness inside her that had afflicted him since Claire had died?
Well, that would be a royally stupid reason to get together. Damn, he knew perfectly well that no person on the planet could be expected to fill the empty holes in another. Nobody could replace Claire, and he didn’t want it. Her place in his heart would always remain.
The emptiness in Vanessa...if she didn’t figure out how to fill it on her own, he couldn’t do it for her. Life just didn’t work that way.
You made room in your heart for someone—you didn’t patch it with them.
Maybe Larry’s interruption had been a good thing. Maybe it had saved him and Vanessa from making a mistake.
If so, then why didn’t he feel like it?
Cussing mildly under his breath, he dumped all the coffee and prepared the pot once again for morning. She’d be gone in little over a week. Things would return to normal.
But he was going to miss her anyway.
* * *
The next two days passed in a haze of hard work. Nothing sexual reared its head, but maybe that was because they both worked harder than ever. They got the walls ready to paint. They debated whether to pull out the floor tiles that looked so dingy or if they could be saved by a thorough cleaning. They talked about new bathroom and kitchen fixtures.
Tim kept thinking of what he’d do if he owned this house. Maybe he ought to buy it, but he didn’t suggest it to Vanessa. Somehow he didn’t want to attach himself to her nightmare memories.
Vanessa announced she was speaking at the school on Monday, just after lunch, laughing as she said, “I guess it’ll be my job to keep the kids awake.”
Judging by Matthew’s response to her stories, Tim figured that wasn’t going to be a problem.
He swiped his spackle knife over the last patch on an upstairs wall and stood back. “Tomorrow morning,” he said.
“What?” she asked.
He wondered if she had any idea how cute she looked with a bandanna over her hair, wearing a spackle-stained plaid shirt and jeans that were beginning to look as if they belonged to a serious construction worker.
“Saturday,” he said, even though she knew. “A good day to go to the paint store and pick the colors you want to slap on these walls.”
She chewed her lower lip. “Shouldn’t we go with plain white? Not that I’d want that, but any colors I pick might turn off a potential buyer.”
He used the butt of the spackle knife to hammer the can closed. “If you talk to a real estate agent, you’ll discover that one of the things we’re going to do is make this house look like someone lives here. If you care how much you get for it, anyway. After all this work, you should.”
She hesitated, looking around. “It doesn’t feel like Bob’s house any longer. It’s as if working on it has made it my house.”
He smiled. “Then choose your own colors, woman.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
They went downstairs. All the overhead lights were on along with a few work lights, and she leaned against the counter as he washed the spackle knife.
“What else would you do to this place if it were your own?”
“The kitchen,” she said promptly. “New countertops, new appliances. And I might paint the cabinets, or just remove most of the doors.”
He looked around. “I’ve got some used cabinets in a storage room that you might like. Much better condition than these.”
She opened one of the doors. “You think the whole thing needs to be replaced?”
He came over to stand by her and point. “Water damage at the back of them. It doesn’t look bad, but if we get into the cabinets, I might not like what we find behind them. If it’s just the cabinets themselves, I can fix it with a little sanding and refinishing.”
Inadvertently he brushed against her and heard her quickly indrawn breath. Heat surged in him, and he backed away.
She remained staring into the cabinet, frozen. After a few second she spoke. “I wouldn’t want to leave a mess for the new owner.”
&n
bsp; “If I pull one of these down, we’re going to have to do it all. So come with me to storage tomorrow and see if you like the cabinets I have.”
“Okay.” She closed the door. “My list seems to be growing.”
“Mainly because you’ve got a lot of sweat equity in this place. You’ll get over it.”
At that she laughed and helped him clean up, readying for the next workday there.
* * *
That afternoon, Matt came home from school announcing that he’d been invited to spend Saturday night with Jimmy Jackson. “Can I go? Can I take my dinosaur puzzle, too? He wants to see it.”
Tim hesitated. “I’d hate for it to get broken.”
“I can take the one I haven’t started yet. We can sort the pieces.”
Tim glanced at Vanessa. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to get his son those puzzles.
“I can always replace it,” she said. “Don’t worry about that.”
Tim squatted until he was on eye level with Matthew. “Okay then. But be very careful and don’t lose pieces. It was nice of Vannie to get them for you, and I’d really hate to ask her to do it again.”
“I’ll be careful,” Matthew said stoutly. “So will Jimmy. He already promised.”
“Okay then. When are you supposed to go over there?”
Matthew furrowed his brow. “Jimmy said you need to check with his mom.”
“Ah. So the two of you outlaws plotted this today?”
Matthew grinned sheepishly. “Sort of.”
Tim straightened. “I guess I need to check with Mrs. Jackson, then.”
“Does this happen often?” Vanessa asked as Matthew trudged with his backpack into the dining room.
“Not that often, but much better than when he was five and brought Jimmy home from school with him and nobody had bothered to tell Jimmy’s mom where he’d gone. We all learned from that escapade.”
“I bet.”
“Life with kids,” Tim said easily. “You learn a lot. Listen, if you want to go shower, I’ll just check on that roast I’ve been marinating.”
