“Then I’ve been remiss.” Arranging the toast around his eggs, she placed his plate on the table. “You are hereby invited over for any meal of your choice any time you want.” Grabbing a fork and a napkin, she set down both beside his plate. “Now sit.”
He was trying to help her cope, not give her more work. “I’m not about to come barging in on you—”
She fixed him with a look. “Sit!”
He didn’t feel like getting into an argument first thing in the morning. He planted himself on a chair. “Yes ma’am.”
“Better.” Taking her own plate, she sat down opposite him in the small nook. There was bacon on her plate. She noticed he looked at it. “I didn’t make any bacon for you because I remembered you didn’t like it.”
They’d never had breakfast together. “How do you know I don’t like bacon?”
“Kurt told me.” Picking up the curled bacon slice in her fingers, she broke a piece off and popped it into her mouth. “I remember things.” A smile curved her lips as she looked at him. “Like that argument we never finished.”
He was already sampling his portion. He had to admit, this beat cardboard eggs in a foam box seven ways from sundown. “What argument?”
“More like a discussion, really,” she amended, watching his face. “Just before you did your hero thing.”
She was talking about that damn fund-raiser, wasn’t she? “It wasn’t a hero thing and if you want to pay me back for anything, you’ll drop the subject.”
That far she wasn’t willing to go. “You know I’m right.”
Why had he even thought she’d give up on this? “What I know is that once you get hold of a subject, you can be a damn pain in the neck about it.” She said nothing, merely continued to look at him as she ate. Why did that make him feel like squirming inside? He knew she was wrong about this. “You know, this isn’t going to do you any good. I still think it’s a bad idea. It’s not going to work,” he insisted.
“Yes, it will,” she countered. Finishing her bacon, she leaned in over the table, her eyes excited. “I already talked to Sherry and Joanna about it when they came to the hospital and they think it’s a great idea.”
He forced himself to look down at his plate. Looking into her eyes made him lose his train of thought. “Your friends’ opinions notwithstanding—”
She knew what he was going to say. That they were her friends and had to side with her. But that wasn’t the point she was trying to make. “And they’re both engaged to billionaires.”
The information temporarily brought his train to a halt before it could even exit the station. “Billionaires?”
She nodded her head, aware that she’d managed to temporarily derail him. “St. John Adair and Rick Masters. Adair’s the head of—”
“I know who he is, who they are.” He hadn’t been living in a cave, after all. Even if his ex-wife hadn’t lived and breathed the society page, the names would have been familiar to him. But even so, he didn’t see this half thought out idea of hers taking off. “And these billionaires would be willing to come to a weenie roast at the center.”
She ignored his mocking tone. “Your problem, Carson, is that you don’t think big. And that you have no faith,” she added for good measure. “I also know a caterer. She’d be willing to do this for cost.”
Now there was a nebulous word, Carson thought. “Whose cost?”
“It’ll be underwritten,” she assured him. Either one of the two men’s foundations would be more than willing to take on the expense in exchange for the goodwill. “And, I’ve already developed a theme and everything.”
“A theme?” he echoed. What the hell did that have to do with anything?
As if reading his mind, she said, “Can’t have a fund-raiser without a theme. Sherry’s a former newscaster who’s a reporter now,” she went on, “and her father is retired from the L.A. Times, so publicity is not going to be a problem—”
He leaned back in his chair, looking at her. She’d had a baby less than three days ago. Most women in her position would still be trying to pull themselves together, not pulling together a fund-raiser for high rollers. “You’ve got this all worked out, don’t you?”
She took a bite out of her toast. “All except for you saying yes.”
“Does that even matter?” As far as he could see, she was ready to steamroll right over him.
How could he say that? The center was his baby, his domain. She was just trying to help. “Of course it matters.” And then she grinned. “It also matters that this’ll be written up in the society pages.”
“Society pages?” he echoed. Was Lori trying to tell him that she had something in common with his ex-wife? That she craved the limelight, too? “Why should that matter?”
“So Jaclyn can eat her heart out, of course.” She knew that he wasn’t the vengeful type, but that was all right. She was vengeful for him. “I want her to realize that she lost a catch and a chance to come floating in on your arm at a really big charity event.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you.”
“No, I’m not.” She finished her toast. “I just have to have imagination for the both of us, so it seems as if I have too much. What do you say?”
He kept a straight expression. “If I said no—”
She wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. With Carson it was hard to tell. “I’d hammer away at you until you said yes.”
“That’s what I thought.” Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Not that part about Jaclyn. He didn’t care anymore what the woman thought, only that she was a good mother to Sandy. But the center could definitely use the money. “Let me think about it.”
“Really?”
There was something about the way she looked when she widened her eyes like that that got to him. Made his stomach feel like jelly.
Maybe it was time to go. He rose to his feet. “I told you, I never say anything I don’t mean.”
Lori was on her feet as well. “You won’t regret this.”
And then, moved by the moment and by everything he’d done that had led up to this point in time, she pulled on his shirt, drawing him down to her level. When he bent his head, a query in his eyes, she raised herself up on her toes and brought her mouth up to his.
He stopped her at the last minute, placing his fingertips against her lips.
Stunned, she looked up at him. Was he rejecting her?
There was a dab of strawberry jam at the corner of her mouth. He slowly rubbed it away with his thumb. His eyes never left hers.
“I know you’re a go-getter, but there are some things a man likes to initiate himself. At least the second time around.”
He knew he should have just walked away. It would have been the sensible thing to do. But he’d been battling too many emotions lately to be sensible. He cupped her chin in his hand and brought his mouth down to hers.
Carson kissed her with all the feeling that had been churning within him. Kissed her the way he’d been wanting to ever since she’d first kissed him. Ever since, a part of him realized, he’d first seen her on his brother’s arm, her eyes sparkling, her manner bursting with the kind of sunshine he had never believed people were capable of exuding.
One look at Lori and he’d been proven wrong.
She tasted of strawberries. He’d always had a weakness for strawberries. And even if he hadn’t, he had a feeling that he would have developed one now.
He deepened the kiss, knowing it was a mistake, knowing it would only make him want more. Want her. It was crazy and it was something that he would keep to himself until his dying day, but he knew in his heart that he wanted her.
Wanted Lori not for an hour, not for a night, but forever.
Because even in her stubbornness, she embodied everything he had ever wanted in his life, everything he had ever wanted in a woman. The last bone of contention he’d had with his brother was the way Kurt took Lori for granted.
Had Lori been part of his life, Carson knew he would have never treated her that way, never taken her for granted for even one moment.
But that choice wasn’t his. Wouldn’t be his.
But if only for the moment, he allowed himself to pretend that it was.
He was making her head spin and her blood rush. She’d never been with another man other than Kurt, but suddenly, she felt as if everything inside of her was being pulled to this man. It wasn’t possible, not yet, because strictly physically she wasn’t ready.
But that didn’t mean that the rest of her wasn’t. That the rest of her didn’t ache to be his in every sense of the word.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders, trying to steady herself. Wouldn’t that be a surprise for him, she thought, to know what she was feeling?
Or maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise.
At least, she could hope.
A stab of guilt had him withdrawing. What the hell was he doing, taking advantage of her when she was so vulnerable? What had gotten into him?
“I’d better get going,” he murmured. “The center’s not going to run itself.”
“Carson—”
“Call me if you need anything.”
She smiled, watching a six-foot-two man beat a hasty retreat out the door. If she did call him, she thought as she heard the front door closing, it would be because she only needed one thing.
Him.
Chapter Ten
By the time Carson arrived at St. Augustine’s, he’d made up his mind. He was only going to call. Just a simple call to check in on Lori and the baby. If even that.
He sat down at his desk, bracing himself for the task he’d put off the past couple of days. Searching for funds to reallocate so that the center’s bills could be paid this month. It was a hell of a juggling act.
After all, he argued, his mind slipping back to Lori, he’d already done more than his fair share when it came to helping her out. More than most men would have. He’d filled her refrigerator, brought her home from the hospital and stayed over her first night home with the baby.
Not that she’d really needed him. She’d seemed to manage fine on her own. Just as she’d said.
Just as, he thought, she’d always done.
Maybe it was just his own need to be needed. He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. Damn it, he was beginning to sound like one of those afternoon talk shows. Muttering an oath under his breath, he turned his attention back to his unbalanced budget.
No, he wasn’t going over tonight, he thought for the hundredth time that day as he regarded the stone-cold, borderline petrified hamburger on his desk. If he couldn’t get his mind more than a few inches away from Lori, well that was his problem to deal with, not hers. Things wouldn’t improve if he went over.
Besides, Carson shut his eyes, momentarily surrendering the budget battle he was engaged in, he knew if he did show up at Lori’s house, she would only start yammering at him again about the fund-raiser. There was no way he wanted to hear any more about that, especially not in his present state of mind.
No, he was going to give her some space. Go home after work and get some well-deserved rest of his own. He’d call her once he got there.
Maybe.
Or maybe he’d just call her now and get it over with. Carson eyed the sickly salmon-colored telephone beside his deceased hamburger, feeling as if he were involved in an exhausting physical tug-of-war rather than just a mental one.
“Hey, boss man.” Without bothering to knock, Rhonda swung the office door open and stuck her dark head in. “I think you’ve got yourself a problem.”
That was an understatement, he thought, then realized that she had to be referring to something at the center.
A problem. Good. Something to sink his teeth into. Something to get his mind away from things it shouldn’t be dwelling on. Splaying his hands on his desk, he rose to his feet. “Such as?”
She looked unwilling to go into detail. Or perhaps unable. Rhonda wasn’t the most articulate person in the world. Not like Lori, he thought. Lori liked to use ten words when three would suffice.
Rhonda nodded toward the hall. “I think you’d better come and see this.”
In desperate need of diversion, he still didn’t know if he liked the sound of that. But then, Rhonda wasn’t the type to tackle things on her own. She was a firm believer in passing on things that she deemed weren’t part of her job description.
Not like Lori. Lori tackled everything as if it was her private crusade.
Damn it, O’Neill, give it a rest. The woman’s not a saint. What the hell’s gotten into you?
He needed a woman, he decided abruptly. Someone to ease the physical tension that had to be at the root of all this. He refused to entertain the idea that there might have been another cause, another solution. Anything that had to do with feelings was going to be left out in the cold.
“What is it?” he asked again. Rhonda led him across the first floor toward the stairwell on the other side of the gym. They cut a wide path around the basketball court.
“One of the guys came and told me that the water in the boys’ shower was cold. I was going to have Juan check that out when Alda told me the same thing was happening in the girls’ shower. So I had a hunch and went down into the basement.” Stopping at the door that led to the basement, she paused significantly.
Carson knew it was because she wanted recognition for her initiative.
Moving in front of her, he opened the door. A long, narrow stairway led down to the basement. It reminded him of something that would have been found back East or up North. For the most part, there were no basements in Southern California. Not in any of the newer buildings. But St. Augustine’s Teen Center had originally been an unwed mothers’ shelter that had been renovated in the sixties. The building itself was over fifty years old. And not wearing its age well.
“And what did you find there?” He held on to the rickety banister as he went down the stairs. They creaked under his weight.
“That.” Rhonda pointed to the inch of water that graced the dirty basement floor. She made no effort to go down the final two steps, the last of which was partially submerged. Instead, she indicated the culprit in the corner. “Looks like you need a new water heater.”
He bit back a few choice words. Damn, this wasn’t going to be cheap. Never mind the cost of the water heater, plumbers were worth their weight in gold.
For a moment, he seriously regretted the altruistic emotions that had caused him to turn his back on the law firm and take up the mantle of shepherd for this dysfunctional flock.
“What was your first clue?” he asked sarcastically.
“The water on the ground.”
She was serious. He’d forgotten that humor was something that was usually wasted on Rhonda. Not that there was any in this situation.
Frustrated, Carson dragged his hand through his hair, looking at the mess. Some of the center’s gym equipment was stored down here and it didn’t take an expert to see that it was ruined.
Well, at least Lori was going to be happy. The thought did nothing to improve his mood. Against his will, Lori was going to get her way. He was going to have to put his faith in a fund-raiser. There was no other way he was going to find any money to repair the damage done by the flood and buy a new water heater.
Not to mention pay this month’s electricity bill. Rates had gone through the roof this last year and there was just so much that could be cut back.
When it rained, it poured, he thought. He stared darkly at the dirty water. No pun intended.
She missed him.
There’d been barely two unattended minutes for her to rub together since Carson had left this morning. Visitors had begun dropping by her house within ten minutes of his departure.
But she still missed him.
Not only had each one of the women in the Mom Squad chosen to come by separately to offer encouragement and advise, n
ot to mention to coo over the baby, but she’d also received visits from a good many of the women who had taken her classes and gone on to have their own babies. Everyone had brought gifts, food and insisted on spelling her, despite her protests that she didn’t need any “spelling.”
News of her delivery had spread quickly and some of the kids from the center had made the pilgrimage to her house as well. Angela had been the first and most enthusiastic. The look in her eyes told Lori that she’d fallen in love with Emma.
“Gonna have one of these myself one of these days,” she vowed, then looked quickly at Lori and flushed. “The right way. After I finish school and after I get me a husband.”
She was coming along, Lori thought. “Sounds good to me.”
Angela stayed until her ride came to pick her up again. The teenager’s impromptu visit meant a great deal to Lori.
But even with this endless parade of hot and cold running women who insisted on taking over and allowing her to “rest” and not do anything beyond breast-feed her daughter, Lori found herself missing him. Missing Carson. Even missing the way he frowned.
She knew it was futile to feel that way. Carson had gone more than the extra mile for her and there was no reason to think that he might come over tonight for some reason. Now that she had safely delivered the baby and had been brought to her own home, he could turn his attention to other important matters.
Without her there to help out, the center was going to take up all of his time. She knew Carson. He didn’t believe in half measures.
Or in attachments, she thought as she shut the door on the last of her visitors, holding the baby in the crook of her arm. Carson had made it known to her in no uncertain terms that he was out of the relationship business as far as male and female interactions went.
Though he pretended otherwise, she knew that Jaclyn had hurt him much too much. He’d allowed himself to go out on a limb, to expose himself and become vulnerable and Jaclyn had sawed that limb right out from under him. There was no way he would risk that happening again, Lori thought. She caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. Even with someone who was a great deal more trustworthy than that witch of an ex-wife.
Beauty and the Baby Page 11
