by Anne
Was she really that undesirable? All right, so she was thirty. There were lots of women who were way over thirty and were still considered gorgeous. Of course, they didn't teach third grade in Kansas City. They were actresses with the time and money to devote to looking good. She frowned and went into the bathroom.
She wasn't all that bad, she decided, staring at herself in the mirror. She had a few strands of gray in her short curly hair, but they weren't really noticeable. And her figure was good. Well, reasonably good. She probably shouldn't have had that ice cream sundae or the Snickers bar, but they wouldn't have shown up on her hips already, would they?
As she undressed, Sara studied herself in the small mirror. She was fine, she decided defiantly. Nice. Pleasant. Unexceptional. Totally ordinary. Her kids were cute, that was why he'd kissed them good night. Probably why he'd invited them to dinner in the first place.
She sighed, unable to avoid the truth as she examined her small breasts, narrow waist, and slightly too large hips: she was not sex symbol bait. There was nothing about her to lure any man into an indiscretion, into nights of unbridled passion. She was too boring.
A shower did not wash away the gloom that enveloped her, although she tried to convince herself that she was happy the way she was. She didn't dare to trust her emotions. She had loved Tom, and look where that had led her. Sure, she had the girls and wouldn't trade them for the world, but her relationship with Tom had been a fiasco. He had never understood her or really cared about anyone but himself, yet she had been willing to entrust her happiness to him. She had been stupid then; was she any wiser now? She didn't know, but she doubted it.
Her life was safe, just the way she wanted it. So she didn't date much; she didn't have the time or the inclination for it. Dating was for kids with overactive hormones and time on their hands. She had neither.
Oh, occasionally she would find herself wishing that things could be different. She'd feel vague longings and wonder what it would be like to be swept away by love, but that didn't happen. Not in real life.
She stepped out of the shower and briskly dried herself. What had she really expected? That Mike Taylor, Captain Wonder, savior of the free world, would find her fascinating? She laughed aloud. What a hit she would have been with her third-graders!
After brushing her teeth, she pulled her nightshirt over her head. Captain Wonder clung to her slightly damp breasts. The only way he ever would, she thought. A knocking penetrated her distracted thoughts, and she pulled open the door. Had one of the girls needed to use the bathroom while she was daydreaming? she wondered.
No. the knocking was at the outside door. She hurried over to it and pulled aside the curtain. Mike was back. She opened the door.
"Something wrong?"
He said nothing for a moment. Looking hard at her body. At the picture of himself plastered across her chest, actually. She crossed her arms in embarrassment and he looked at her face.
"Icant reach Norm."
She stared at him. What did he expect, that she'd unhitch the camper and drive him back? That would take more than an hour, round trip, and she was exhausted.
"I really hate to impose," he said hesitantly.
She always was a sucker for the apologetic, and stepped aside to let him enter the camper. Then she closed the door behind him,
"I'm tired and I'm not driving another foot tonight."
Mike just nodded slowly. "Okay."
"There's another bed you can use," she said, walking briskly around him. "You may feel a little cramped, but it's better than the floor." She turned to find him watching her with a strange look on his face. "Or the ground."
He nodded and she turned her attention to the dinette area. She took the pillows off the benches and handed them to Mike, then swung the table down to fill in the space in the middle. She rearranged the pillows across the level platform, then glanced up at him. At his long body. She looked down again at the barely six-foot-long bed.
"You'll never fit here,'1 she said with a sudden realization.
"No, it's fine," he assured her. "I curl up when I sleep."
Even curled up, he'd be too big for the bed. She shook her head. "No, I’ll sleep here. You can take my bed." She nodded toward the double-bed-sized platform above the driver's seat, "I don't need that much room."
"I really hate to put you to all this trouble," Mike said.
She just shrugged and handed him some sheets and a blanket- "I don't have an extra pillow."
"That's okay."'
He took the stuff from her and walked over to his bed. She busied herself making up her own. When that was done, she didn't know what else to say.
"I was just going to bed," she told him.
He finished making his bed. "I'll use the bathroom, if that's okay."
She shrugged as if his presence were of no concern or interest to her, and climbed into bed. He turned the light on in the bathroom and closed the door.
Oh Lord, what had she done? Her kids were at one end of the room while she and the sexiest man she had ever met in her life were at the other!
Mike came out of the bathroom and walked to his bed. It was chest-high, and the ceiling was too low for him to hoist himself up on the edge.
"You'll have to stand on my bed," she told him, moving her feet aside. Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears.
He nodded and climbed from her bed into his. "Good night," he said.
"Good night. "She reached up and turned off the light then turned over, her face to the wall. She was not behaving like the thirty-year-old she was. she thought. He was a teen hero, and she was definitely not a teenager. She was mature. She was responsible. She was horny. She closed her eyes and lay awake long after the sound of Mike's even breathing filled the room.
Three
Mike lay stilt in the pale early morning light. Just a few feet below him, Sara lay sleeping. Her hair was mussed and her long lashes seemed dark and thick against her cheeks. Her blanket had fallen to one side during the night, exposing a tantalizing sight to his eyes. The thin Captain Wonder nightshirt was stretched tightly across her breasts.
Megan's remarks about wearing it inside out came to mind, and he wondered what it would be like to be close to her heart. In between that nightshirt and her skin. Desire began to grow as he let his gaze travel further along, down the bare expanse of her slightly bent leg and into the shadowy recesses beneath it.
Sara was different from most of the women he had known. Certainly worlds apart from Sylvia. For one thing, she didn't seem to give a damn whether he was around or not. In fact, she seemed to be more annoyed by his presence than eager for it. Maybe she didn't know how many women threw themselves at him, or maybe she had no Idea how much he was worth.
He frowned. Maybe she didn't care.
He continued to gaze down at Sara as she slept, thinking of various pleasant ways he could awaken her. The beds were close and he could climb down into hers without making a sound. Then he could put a hand on her waist and gently kiss the hollow of her neck.
His breath started to quicken and he licked his lips as he looked around the camper. The kids were still asleep. Kids! His desire quickly fled, leaving him limp and drained. Damn. What had he been thinking of?
He turned over, lying on his back and staring up at the close ceiling with a frown. Actually, he had found Sara and her kids surprisingly enjoyable company. The frown relaxed into a half-smile. It was comfortable spending time with them. They didn't seem to want anything from him, and treated him with a matter-of-factness that he had not experienced in a long time. He was going to be sorry to see it end. The restlessness that had been plaguing him for the past months seemed to have vanished here, and Sylvia's ultimatum seemed unimportant.
Sara moved slightly in her sleep and Mike's eyes shifted to her again. The nightshirt had inched up a little further. He wondered what he would do if he were the husband and father here. For one thing, he'd know how soundly the little girls slept.
Desire began inching its way back into his body. He'd like to let his hand slide along the smooth length of her leg and up into the shadows under the nightshirt, he thought. He'd like to feel the softness of her breasts beneath him and kiss her warm mouth. Her skin would be fresh and clean, not cloying with the lingering odors of lotions and creams and cigarette smoke. Her hair would be soft and natural. She was so unlike Sylvia and all the others: fresh and honest and somehow all the more alluring.
What would she do, he wondered, if he climbed down into her bed? Would she smile and roll over onto her back, welcoming him as if it were the natural start to her morning? Was she dreaming of him now, her body warming with desire for his? Might she even be awake, aware of his gaze, yet uncertain how to respond? What would it be like to make love to her? he wondered.
A sound startled him and he found himself staring across the room at two smiling faces. He gave the girls a weak grin and then lay back on the bed, closing his eyes.
Difficult, that's what making love to Sara would be.
The sound of the girls" giggling woke Sara, and she discovered, to her dismay, that she had been providing quite a show for everyone. She glanced furtively up at Mike as she sat up. pulling her nightshirt down. He was lying on his back and appeared to be asleep.
Talk about shows—he was providing one of his own. His chest was bare and the blanket cut across his body just below the waist. She could see his shirt lying on a chair, but she wondered if he had taken anything else off. There certainly was no evidence of clothing on that magnificent torso.
She got to her feet and slowly folded her blanket, her glance straying over his chest. His muscles were hard and well-defined, tempting her to touch them, as did the mat of blond hair. She followed its trail down to the blanket, disappointed that her view was cut off, then angry at herself for her reaction. She picked up her sheet and folded it quickly,
Mike was handsome enough on television, she thought, but lying there in the bed near her he was almost irresistible. She wondered if he made love in real life as magnificently as he did on the screen. There, girls fainted in sheer ecstasy when he touched them. Would he have that effect on her?
That was something she'd never know, she thought as she put her bedding away. He was leaving soon, and the sooner, the better. After putting her finger to her lips to caution the girls to be quiet, she went into the bathroom.
What a night! she mused. Sara frowned at the dark circles under her eyes. She had thought she would never get to sleep, and when she finally did, shed dreamed of Captain Wonder, Tom, and screaming teenage girls.
She was glad Mike was leaving that morning. She supposed she'd have to give him breakfast first, but there'd be no lingering. He'd be gone, and they'd be on their way to the Indian ruins and then to Lake Mead.
She emerged from the bathroom to find everyone awake and talking. The girls were sitting on her bed, obviously delighted to find their hero .still around. Sara smiled as if she were used to parading around in front of strangers in an almost transparent nightshirt, but she was cursing herself for not bringing a robe.
She pulled some clothes from a drawer, rejecting her comfortable terrycloth romper in favor of a pair of navy slacks that fit as if she'd been poured into them. It was supposed to be cool that day, she rationalized, and the slacks would be more appropriate. Her choice, she told herself, had nothing to do with its slimming effect on her figure or the fact that she felt like a purple elephant in the romper.
Sara went back Into the bathroom and got dressed, then hurried the girls into their clothes. By the time Mike emerged from his turn in the bathroom, they were seated at the table eating breakfast. He had showered and his hair was wet. His chin was covered with blond stubble, making him look much less the superhero. That didn't mean he looked like any old guy on the street. Sara wished he did. She might not feel so torn about seeing him leave.
"We don't have much of a breakfast usually," she said, her tone apologetic.
He sat down across from her, nodding when she offered him a cup of coffee. "Actually, I'm not much of a breakfast eater myself. 1 usually just have coffee when I get up and then something midway through the morning."
"Want some Rice Krispies?" Karl offered.
He shook his head. "No, thanks."
Before the girls could take over the conversation again, Sara decided to set things straight for the day. "We're heading out of here after breakfast, so I thought we'd just drop you off at the lodge on the way."
"You don't have to do that. I can call Norm and he can come get me."
Like he had last night? she thought. "It's no trouble, and that way I don't have to worry about you being stranded out here."
He smiled at her. "Always the mother, eh?"
Is that what he thought—that she was mothering him? Then why was she torturing herself in these uncomfortable slacks? Instead of answering, she poured herself another cup of coffee,
"So what's next onyour agenda?' he asked.
"Montezuma's Castle and Lake Mead, then across to Los Angeles." She kept her voice crisp and businesslike. She was not affected by the blond hairs on his arms that begged to be touched.
"We're going to Disneyland," Karl told him.
"Hey, no kidding. I don't live very far from there."
"Really?" The girls were enthralled.
"Why don't you come with us then?" Megan asked innocently.
Sara could not believe her ears and stared at Megan in horror. She was going to have to have a talk with her daughter very soon. "You've forgotten that we're not going to be getting to Los Angeles for another couple of days,11 she reminded her. "I'm sure Mike doesn't want to meander around sightseeing. He probably has some business to take care of in town.
"Nope, not a thing."
She fought the temptation to glare at him. "I thought you were in the middle of shooting next season's episodes."
"I am, but the crew will be tied down here a while longer, so I have the rest of the week off."
Swell, she thought. Now what was she supposed to say?
Megan took care of that for her. "Then you carl come," she cried happily. "Awesome."
"Now, Meg," Sara said, trying to regain some control.
"You said you wished you had someone to help with the driving," Kari pointed out. She turned quickly to Mike. "You can drive, can't you?"
"Everything from a Wondercopter to a Blast Bike."
"How about a camper?" Sara asked dryly.
"That too." His smile was too personal and intimate. Why did he want to go with them? It didn't make any sense. He wasn't Interested in her, and adoring young fans were everywhere.
"And it would be so much safer with Mike along," Megan said persuasively. "Auntie Jane was worried because we were going alone. Shed feel a lot better If she knew Captain Wonder was with us."
"I'm sure she would," Sara said. She got to her feet and began to clear the table. Somehow safe was not the word she would have used to describe his presence.
"So can he come?" Karl persisted.
Sara put the cereal back in the cabinet. The sane, sensible part of her wanted to shriek "no!" yet her mouth couldn't quite form the words. But why not? She wasn't attracted to that overgrown comic book hero, was she? Did she actually believe that he might find her desirable? She was probably insane, but she turned to smile at the three of them.
"Sure, he can come If he wants to,' she said brightly. Lord help her, she hoped he would,
"Do you know what you're doing?" Norm asked as he handed Mike hts suitcase.
"Don't I always?"
Norm gave him a meaningful look, then leaned against the car. "There's got to be a female involved. You are not a tourist by nature."
"As a matter of fact, ' Mike said with a grin, "there're three females involved. A mother and her twin da-ighters."
"Twins? And their mother? You lucky dog. How old is the mother? That could be like triplets." Norm looked envious.
"The twins are eight yea
rs old."
Norm frowned. "What's the mother like, then?"
"Nice." Mike shrugged. "I can't actually explain why I'm going."
"Sounds like you're hot to trot with the mother," Norm pointed out.
Mike glared at him. "It's just a little escape from my routine. They're very nice people. All three of them. They're easy to get along with and I’ll have time to think. I've been awfully restless lately. Sylvia thinks marriage is the solution, but I'm not sure. A few days with Sara and her kids will be a good test as to whether or not I'm cut out for domesticity."
Norm shook his head. "It sounds like nothing but trouble."
"There's nothing going on between Sara and me," Mike assured him. He tried not to remember the strength of his physical response as he had watched her sleeping. "Sylvia would trust me in a situation like this, so why can't you?"
"I'm not a fool. I'm not sure I can say the same for Sylvia." Norm straightened up and took the car keys out of his pocket. "I packed everything you asked for, but there wasn't any room for common sense. Don't blame me if she strands you in the middle of Death Valley."
"She won't." Mike stepped back from the car and watched Norm pull away. Then he picked up his suitcase and walked back toward the camper. Sara met him halfway.
"Your friend came, I see."
"Bringing money and clean underwear."
"All the essentials."
She didn't seem overjoyed to see him and Mike felt a twinge of guilt at the way he had maneuvered her into issuing the invitation. He wanted to test out domesticity, that was all, he told himself. She had nothing to worry about, and he would make sure she understood it.
"If you've changed your mind about taking me along, I'll understand."
She shook her head. "No, it'll be nice to have some company. I just wanted to talk to you without the girls around first."
"Sure."
She was silent for a moment, as if she did not know how to start. "We lead a very quiet life," she said suddenly. "Certainly nothing like your life in Hollywood."
