What a Woman Should Know

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What a Woman Should Know Page 8

by Cara Colter


  “Your place? Well, I think that would be just fine. I’ll just check with Tally.” He put the phone down against his chest. “What do you think, Tally?”

  What was wrong with this picture? He was acting like they were the couple. And it was his chest she’d seen, and his lips he’d kissed, and her world was going all wrong somehow and it was all his fault.

  “I am not giving in to this manipulative behavior,” she growled.

  He smiled and put the phone back up to his ear. “She says she’s busy, but I’m still game. Great. Meet you at eight. She’ll tell me where to go, I’m sure.”

  He hung up the phone.

  “You are not going to meet Herbert,” she sputtered.

  “Why? Are you ashamed of him?” He crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned his fanny against her countertop. Amusement burned through his dark eyes.

  “No!” Though it crossed her mind, to her great shame, that she didn’t think Herbert was going to stack up very well on J.D.’s scale. J.D. would probably stare at his bow tie, and judge his little tummy, and think because he wore glasses he was a wimp. “You have no right to barge into my life like this.”

  “Well, I hate to be the one to remind you, Tally, but it was really you who started the barging business. You conducted personal interviews about me all over Dancer. Behind my back, I might add. At least all this is out in the open.”

  “We are not going to Herbert’s tonight,” she said. She couldn’t imagine a more awkward situation if she tried.

  “Honey, you may not be going to Herbert’s tonight, but I am. Actually, it might be better without you there. I’ll stop at the liquor store and get a nice bottle of Canadian rye whiskey, loosen up his tongue and learn everything there is to know about you.”

  “That’s despicable. And don’t call me honey. I am not your honey. And Herbert does not know everything there is to know about me.”

  “Now that’s a real shame because he should if anybody does. I mean if you’re planning to get married and all.”

  He said that as if he doubted the seriousness of their wedding plans. Had Herbert said something to him?

  “Does he know you wear lace bras?” J.D. said, with extreme casualness, the same tone he might have used if he said does he know you drive a Nissan?

  She heard Kailey stop laughing long enough to gasp appreciatively.

  “No, he does not!”

  As soon as he grinned Tally knew she was being played by a master. He was trying to find out if she’d been intimate with Herbert. She actually felt herself blushing. She actually wondered why on earth he wanted to know, since he had made it so plain he was not interested in being part of the domestic bliss that would come from creating a perfect family for Jed.

  She forced herself to come to her senses. She drew herself to her full height. Enough was enough. She was taking back the power position in her life and she was doing it right now. She couldn’t think of a scenario more horrible than J.D. alone with Herbert prying all the details of their relationship from him.

  Of course, she might have a different attitude if those details were a whole lot more interesting than they were.

  “If you go and see Herbert without my approval,” she said regally, “Jed and I will not be accompanying you back to Dancer.”

  Kailey gasped again.

  J.D. went very still. Though his casual stance did not change, the laughter drained from his eyes, they narrowed dangerously and he regarded her with discomforting intensity.

  “That’s your big card, sweetheart. You want to play it so early in the game?”

  “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Okay. I mean this. And I am saying it once, so you better hear me. I’m prepared to keep this all nice and friendly. I want to get to know my son, and all the people who are going to be major players in his life. And then I want you and I to reach a mutually agreeable decision about what my involvement in his life is going to be.

  “I can tell you’re a great mom to him and that you have a great support system.” He nodded toward Kailey Benedict Arnold, who beamed at him. “I have no interest in changing that. I want to visit him, and I want to know what’s going on in his life. Those seem like reasonable requests to me. Nothing that needs to involve a judge or lawyers.

  “But,” his voice softened dangerously, “if you ever try and keep me from doing what I think is in my son’s best interests, the friendliness ends. And Tally Smith?”

  He waited until she nodded, and she could have kicked herself when she did.

  “You don’t want me for an enemy.”

  His eyes were absolutely blazing. His mouth was a firm, uncompromising line. She could see a fine tension appear in the muscles of his folded arms. She realized it was true. She did not want him for an enemy.

  And it seemed far too dangerous to have him for a friend.

  He was in control again! Totally and completely.

  “Humph,” she said, with as much dignity as she could muster. She tilted her chin, turned on her heel and went into her bedroom and slammed the door. She pounded the pillow with her fists for a full five minutes she was so mad.

  The temper tantrum astonished her! She was always the one in control. Always! It occurred to her he had had the upper hand for quite some time now.

  And she was surviving. Tally Smith not being in control might not mean the end of the world after all.

  With that strangely contented thought in her mind, she put her head back on her pillow and went to sleep. And when she got up, she knew she was going to Herbert’s. Apparently so did Kailey.

  Because the black strapless dress that Kailey had worn when Chris Palmer, Dogwood Hollow’s mayor, had taken her to the opera in Winnipeg last year, was laid out carefully on the end of the bed.

  A ridiculous dress to wear over to Herbert’s. Tally assumed they were going for a cup of coffee and some imported cookies out of a tin. A swipe of lipstick, a pair of slacks, a blouse and a sweater would be fine.

  Still, the dress was there. It wouldn’t hurt to try it on, would it?

  The dress slid on like a second skin. It fit like a second skin. Tally didn’t remember it looking quite this naughty when Kailey had worn it.

  She spun in front of the mirror, and admired her transformation. From schoolmarm to siren in the blink of an eye. The dress made her legs look longer, and her bust look fuller. The air on her naked shoulders made her feel sensuous, and the blackness of the dress made her eyes look smoldering.

  What was Kailey thinking? She couldn’t wear this dress over to Herbert’s.

  Still, it was kind of fun looking at herself in it. What had J.D. called her? Miss Control? Miss Schoolmarm?

  Well, she didn’t look like either now.

  And suddenly she was damned tired of being dismissed. She was going to make them both—Herbert and J.D.—sit up and take notice tonight.

  There was more than one way to gain control over a man.

  She put her hand on her hip, batted her eyelashes and licked her lips. And then she smiled, a slow and sultry smile. Maybe J.D. was right. She needed to loosen up a bit.

  When she emerged from the bedroom, a half hour later, she had done her hair, sweeping it up more softly than usual. She had put on darker lipstick than she normally wore, and enough mascara to feel she was peering out of her eyes through a mass of tangled spiders legs.

  J.D. was roughhousing on the living room floor with Jed and Beauford. They had dog-piled him, and he was lying underneath them pretending he was completely pinned. The dog licked his face, and Jed was trying with all his might to keep J.D.’s arms pinned to the floor.

  When he saw her he went very still. The laughter died in his eyes, and they became very dark. He gently put Jed off his chest, shoved the dog out of his face and stood up. He studied her for so long she could feel her face begin to burn.

  “Well, well, well,” he finally said. “Is
n’t this a surprise?”

  “I dress like this all the time,” she lied.

  “The grade five boys must be in heaven,” he said.

  “For Herbert,” she exclaimed, and got just the reaction she wanted. He frowned. His eyebrows drew down over eyes that looked suddenly very black, and very menacing.

  Jed spoiled it somewhat by clambering behind the couch and peeping out at her as if she was a perfect stranger.

  And J.D. crossed the space between them, smiled ever so slightly and touched the tip of her ears.

  A silly thing. A small thing. A thing that sent tingles up and down her spine.

  “I don’t believe you do dress like this for Herbert,” he said softly, “which would mean you did it for me.”

  “I didn’t!”

  But he lowered his head, just as if she had said she did do it for him. Really, she should have seen it coming. And maybe she did see it coming. And maybe she wanted to taste him again, just because he was forbidden fruit.

  He kissed her. It was as different from that kiss she had experienced on his front porch as night was from day, and it was different than that brief kiss in her motel room last night, too. His lips were soft, tender, questing. When they touched hers, her heart felt like a butterfly unfolding into flight within her chest.

  She felt something give in her, a slight parting of her lips, an invitation.

  He pulled away immediately, and of course she had to act as if he had stolen that kiss, as if she had not been a party to it at all, as if she had not surrendered, invited.

  There seemed to be only one way to make that point. When he broke contact, she smacked him across the face with her open hand. But not nearly as hard as she should have.

  He touched his cheek, unhurt, and that knowing smile never left his face.

  For a woman who prided herself on her control, she did seem to have a passionate reaction to him.

  “I didn’t put on this dress for you,” she snapped. “Don’t flatter yourself.” But even she could feel the heat in the tips of her ears.

  She spent an absolutely miserable evening at Herbert’s nibbling dreadful cookies imported from England and sipping weak coffee. Herbert was gracious enough not to comment on her appearance, though as the evening progressed she wondered if he’d even noticed it in more than passing.

  J.D. did not seem to be passing any kind of judgement on Herbert. In fact, the two men seemed to be getting on famously. They both loved cars. And football.

  But if J.D. was not passing judgement on Herbert, why was she? Suddenly he seemed smaller, and infinitely more dull than he ever had before.

  In his presence, J.D. seemed more vital, more handsome, more powerful, more charming, more everything.

  And neither man seemed the least bit interested in her. Did either of them try to draw her into the conversation? No. Did either of them say the kind of flattering things a dress like this invited? No. Did either of them show one little bit of interest in her life? No.

  She decided, childishly, that she hated them both.

  She was never the childish one! She’d been so grown-up, so adult, since she was about eight. Her family had counted on her maturity in the face of Elana’s illness.

  After awhile, she got up and went into the kitchen. Neither of them appeared to notice. She eyed the stainless steel appliances, and went and ran her palm down the front of the fridge. Sure enough, a big, ugly streak mark was left.

  From the kitchen she went into the hall. She was going to slip out the door unnoticed and walk home, when she spotted J.D.’s keys on the antique table at the entryway where she had seen him leave them. She hesitated only briefly, and then took them. By the time she started the truck engine she was laughing out loud.

  She wasn’t really good with a standard and she supposed it was the grinding of the gears that brought J.D. and Herbert to the window. With a jaunty wave, she abandoned him there.

  Immature. Silly. Childish. Vindictive.

  She really could not remember the last time she had felt so darned happy.

  “Gosh,” Herbert said, watching the taillights disappear. “Tally just wasn’t herself tonight. That isn’t like her. To just leave without saying goodbye. She didn’t say goodbye, did she?”

  “She not only didn’t say goodbye,” J.D. said, “she swiped my truck.”

  “Oh, no, she would never do that. Tally isn’t like that.” But Tally was being like that, because the truck was disappearing from view.

  “She’s probably coming back,” Herbert said. “She probably noticed I was out of cream or something. She’s thoughtful.”

  It seemed to J.D. that Herbert was no kind of expert on Tally, because J.D. knew Tally had not gone to get cream, was not being thoughtful and was not coming back.

  He slid Herbert an assessing look. He really hadn’t expected to like the guy quite so much. Nice guy, but obviously the absentminded professor type. The man had barely noticed the black dress, and J.D. had barely been able to breathe all night.

  Every time she’d crossed her legs, sighed, shifted, he’d had to focus very hard to catch what Herbert was saying. His mind had been glued on her while he discussed vintage cars with Herbert.

  An hour later Herbert finally figured out she wasn’t coming back. “It’s really not like her,” he said, as if he had to apologize for her.

  But J.D. had the happy suspicion that Tally Smith swiping his truck was probably more like her than anything she’d ever done before in her whole life. Why, there was a bonafide brat hiding out inside of Miss Priss.

  “I better go, too,” he said. “Is there a motel close by?”

  Herbert gave him instructions, and he walked out into the night, weighing his thoughts. He liked Herbert. He was a genuinely nice guy. Okay, he might not be Mr. Excitement, but Tally could have done a lot worse for herself and for Jed.

  Herbert would be infinitely stable. A reliable kind of guy who would provide a solid home for J.D.’s son. He was the kind of guy who would help with homework and give good financial advice and drive to hockey games early in the morning.

  J.D. felt he should have been ecstatic that Tally had found such a good man to help her in the hard, hard job of raising a child.

  But ecstasy was about the furthest thing from his mind.

  Because for all that Herbert was all right for Jed, he was all wrong for Tally. Geez, the guy had barely noticed the black dress. And he had no idea Tally needed to lose control. He had no idea that the woman who’d stolen a truck and left a man stranded might well be the real Tally.

  J.D. hoped she had been laughing when she did it. At the thought of her delighting in her newfound devilment, his own smile curled up inside him, until he could restrain it no more. Walking down the quiet streets of Dogwood Hollow, J. D. Turner laughed out loud.

  He’d caught a glimpse of the real Tally Smith, and it had nothing to do with that black dress.

  He found the motel, and did a pretty good job of bluffing that he had a truck and luggage parked out in the darkness of their lot.

  He went in and had a leisurely shower, lolled around in his underwear, watched TV until very late, celebrated the joys of being single.

  There was really no excuse for him looking up her number and waiting until after midnight to call. He could tell by her voice she hadn’t been sleeping, either.

  “Just called to check on my dog,” he said, “and my truck.”

  “Both are quite safe,” she said coldly. “The horrible dog is right in bed with Jed. I would have never allowed it, but Kailey did.”

  Despite the coldness in her tone, he liked her voice reaching across to him in the night. “Dogs are meant to sleep with boys. It has to do with rule number three.”

  “Rule number three?”

  “Nothing. How’s my truck?”

  “Totaled,” she said. “I ran into a bus on the way home. Night blind. I told you.”

  “Do you have a sense of humor hiding under that no-nonsense veneer?”

/>   “No,” she said. “Good night, J.D.”

  He told himself not to say it. He told himself to hang up the phone. But there was his voice saying, “Tally, one more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “You looked pretty damn fine in that dress.”

  Silence. And then a dial tone. He could feel the smile deep inside him as he hung up the phone.

  But if he had caught a glimpse of her last night, she had put it away by morning. When he showed up at the apartment, she was dressed in a white blouse with a cameo at the throat. She had on a purple sweater over top of it, and shapeless black pants. Her hair had been tortured back in such a tight bun her eyes were faintly slanted.

  He thought it was just about the ugliest outfit and hairdo he had ever seen—designed to throw fear into the hearts of grade five children.

  She was packed and ready to go. He noted that she had packed as if they were going to be spending three months on a camel crossing the Sahara.

  “Did you bring five gallons of water in case the truck breaks down in the boonies?” he asked. “How about mittens? It’s June, but you never know.”

  “You think I’m overdoing it, but you’ve never traveled with a small child, have you?”

  Oh, boy. She was back to being her controlled self, in a big way. Really, he had to wonder if two weeks was going to be long enough to get her to break loose, to get her to let down her hair.

  For Jed’s sake, of course. Because if Herbert wasn’t good for Tally, in the long run it wasn’t going to be good for Jed either. J.D. knew from firsthand experience the impact an unhappy mother had on the whole family.

  Sighing, he picked up the first round of suitcases. After saying goodbye to Kailey, and getting the car seat adjusted, they were finally ready to go.

  Jed’s car seat had fit correctly in only one position in the truck, the passenger seat next to the window.

 

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