by Brenda Novak
“You’re not?”
A denial hovered on her lips but in the end she didn’t see any point in pretending. With Carter, she didn’t have to be anyone other than who she was. She didn’t even have to be polite. Just herself. Real. Honest. Like him. “Okay, maybe I am,” she admitted.
His grin turned slightly wolfish. “Let me know if it gets to be too much for you.”
With that he reached for his roller. But when Liz stood as though transfixed, actually contemplating the possibilities, he hesitated. “I guess you’re lonelier than I thought,” he said, his smile disappearing in favor of heightened interest.
Liz’s heart pounded faster. She remembered what it was like to have a man’s hands on her body, what it was like to be a woman instead of only a mother. For the briefest moment, she was tempted to admit that the life she’d been living for the past eighteen months was already too much for her.
What would happen if she gave the word? Would he take her here, on the floor? Would it be the hot, sweaty, whirlwind kind of sex she’d always been too inhibited to experience?
His gaze fell to her breasts, the tips of which tingled as if he were already touching her. Maybe if she let him satisfy the terrible craving welling up inside her, she could keep her life in perspective, look at Dave and her other options more objectively.
At this moment, the notion of a one-night stand, which she’d held in such contempt the night before, seemed like the perfect solution. She and Carter had nothing in common, nothing except the inexplicable crazy-hot desire curling through her veins like smoke. So…
“No strings attached?” she whispered, thinking of her children.
“No strings attached,” he promised.
She anticipated the satisfying weight of his body. “And no one else would ever have to know?”
“Who would I tell?”
Carter wasn’t the type to brag. She knew that instinctively. He wouldn’t even be around all that long. They could lock the doors and the next fifteen minutes would cost her nothing, not even the threat of ruining a good friendship.
“Do you have birth control?” she asked, almost unable to recognize her own voice.
His eyes widened, as if he hadn’t really expected her to capitulate. “No.”
Then it could cost her something, after all. More than she was willing to pay.
She drew a deep, steadying breath. “I’ll keep your offer in mind,” she said and turned away.
CARTER COULD NO LONGER concentrate. He went back to painting, but he was only going through the motions. He wasn’t even sure he was covering new space. All he could think about was what might have happened a few seconds earlier had he been better prepared.
He’d gone nearly two years with barely a thought about sex, hadn’t touched a woman since Laurel.
And then this. Why?
Liz’s footsteps crossed to the bathroom, but Carter refused to let his gaze trail after her. He knew what would show on his face. He longed to lose himself in the mind-numbing frenzy she offered him—yearned for the release, the escape, no matter how temporary.
Even when Liz left the room, he could pick up the scent of her perfume. He’d barely noticed it an hour before; but now he could smell nothing else.
The bathroom door shut, and she reappeared. When her ladder creaked, Carter took a quick glance over his shoulder, then forced himself to turn immediately back.
“I’ll buy condoms tonight, in case you change your mind,” he said.
CARTER TRIED TO IGNORE the animated conversation taking place in the back rooms of the chocolate shop and keep to his painting. But he was still grappling with a surplus of testosterone. And the brief snatches he happened to hear between Liz and Reenie Russell made him even more curious about Liz’s relationship with her father.
At the school?…He just left…. How did Isaac treat him?…Wouldn’t even speak to him. What did you expect?…I thought he might soften…. I’m not sure he ever will…Was it terribly awkward?…Are you kidding? I almost felt sorry for him…. People make mistakes, Reenie…. Mistakes that last eighteen years?…Maybe he had his reasons…. How can you justify that? Where was he when you needed him? And now you’re laying your heart out there again. I don’t want to see you hurt…. I’ll be fine…. That’s what you say, but Isaac’s worried. He doesn’t know whether to send him packing or let you handle this on your own…. I’m an adult. It’s my decision.
Obviously, Liz’s brother didn’t get along with Gordon Russell any better than Liz did. And he wasn’t happy to hear that Liz was harboring the enemy.
“As long as you’re okay….” Reenie said, her voice growing louder as she started to walk toward the front room.
“I’m fine,” Liz insisted, trailing after her.
“I’ve got to run. The girls are going home with a friend so Isaac and I can tutor a few students today. I just couldn’t wait any longer to talk to you.”
“I appreciate the support, Reenie,” Liz said. “Really. But…”
Reenie slowed and let Liz catch up with her. “What?”
“Tell Isaac I want to give Dad a chance. I have to. Just in case.”
“I’ll tell him,” Reenie said with a sigh.
“Now that Luanna’s finally out of the picture, maybe Isaac will be able to forgive Dad, too. Eventually.”
“I doubt it. Not after so long.”
“He sent me a Christmas card two years ago, with some money in it for the kids,” Liz said, as if that somehow redeemed her father completely.
“Didn’t you send him a card first?”
Liz didn’t reply.
“See?” Reenie hesitated at the door. “I’m afraid he’s here only because his wife left him. I have no respect for that.”
“Neither do I,” Liz admitted. “And yet…” She nibbled at her bottom lip. “Never mind.”
“Say it,” Reenie prompted.
“Maybe this will be the beginning of something good. Our relationship was…interrupted somehow, like a power line someone cut. I can’t help wanting what we used to have.”
“Someone did sever your relationship. Luanna. And your father made no attempt to stop it, which is just as bad as cutting you off himself. He married another woman and then failed to stand by his own child.”
Liz pushed around the dust on the floor with one foot. “Occasionally I wonder if there wasn’t some other element at play.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. But sometimes he looked at me so strangely, almost as if the sight of me caused him pain.”
“Don’t create excuses for him. He was selfish, pure and simple.”
Personally, Carter agreed with Reenie. What had happened to Liz happened all too frequently, as she’d said. But he had something more immediate and personally threatening on his mind: he didn’t want to see her get hurt. Despite his efforts to remain detached and aloof, he already cared about her.
How? Why? When? He’d only met her the night before!
“Hell no,” he muttered to himself, and picked up the pace of his painting. He could finish the improvements to the store in a matter of days. Then he wouldn’t have to witness the continuing drama in Liz’s life, wouldn’t run the risk of getting involved emotionally. She had been fine before he’d come to Dundee; she’d be fine after he left.
What was that old cliché? A rolling stone gathers no moss? As much as it betrayed everything he’d once believed, everything he’d ever tried to do, he was now a rolling stone….
Life sometimes did that to a person. But he’d never dreamed it would happen to him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CARTER WAS REMOTE after Reenie left, but Liz didn’t try to draw him out. What had passed between them was daring enough to be a little frightening. It had come out of nowhere—and had sparked and flared in about the same amount of time it would have taken to light a match.
Liz had never had such a strong reaction to someone who was almost a complete stranger. But she didn’t want to
dwell on it. If she did, then she’d probably have to acknowledge that she still felt like melted butter inside. And that the idea of no expectations, no obligations appealed to her far more than she thought it should. She wanted to experience what she’d been missing for so long, to believe she was still the same vibrant, whole person she’d been while she was happily married and not “second choice” for the rest of her life.
People pass in and out of other people’s lives every day. You never know what you might learn from someone, how a particular person can enrich your experience, even if they don’t become a permanent fixture. He’d said that at the restaurant. Why did it sound so much better today?
Liz considered the weekend ahead of her, now that her father was in town. Maybe a bit of fantasy would provide an escape….
She watched Carter through her lashes as he tilted the paint can to refill his tray, imagining how his short, thick hair might feel between her fingers.
“You stare at me that way much longer, and I won’t have time to get to a drugstore,” he said without looking back at her.
Embarrassed by her own transparency, Liz’s first impulse was to blush furiously and dive back into her work. But this was Carter. He didn’t play by the rules and that meant she didn’t have to, either.
Lifting her chin, she gave him a challenging smile. “There’s one right down the street.”
His eyes locked on hers. Had she really said that out loud?
Dropping his roller in the tray, he strode over to her. She nearly backed into the freshly painted wall in her effort to keep some distance between them, but he didn’t pause until he was mere inches away. “Don’t say something that provocative unless you mean it.”
She’d meant it. At least, part of her had. She could easily imagine how good he’d be with his hands. There was a deft efficiency to everything he did.
But the other part of her couldn’t ignore the reality of her situation. She was over thirty. She was divorced. She was the mother of two children. She’d only slept with three men in her whole life—her high-school boyfriend, Keith and Dave. She’d be crazy to ask for trouble by becoming intimately involved with a virtual stranger.
“Sorry,” she said, deciding, at the last moment, to play it safe.
His eyes focused on her mouth, as if he was tempted to see what she might do if he tried to kiss her. She hoped he would. She only needed the smallest excuse in order to let go of the caution that was holding her back.
She suspected he understood that, and yet he wouldn’t exploit it. “Let me know when you’re ready,” he said, and returned to his side of the room.
Following that close encounter, Liz didn’t dare look at him. She was intensely aware of every move he made, of all the things being said without words. But she was careful not to provoke him into crossing the tenuous line between them.
When she realized how quickly they were completing work that had seemed so daunting before, however, she couldn’t help breaking the silence long enough to thank him. They’d already finished the front of the store and had started working on the kitchen and pantry. “It’s really good of you to help me,” she said over the noise of his hammering as he nailed a piece of baseboard to the wall. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
His response was clipped, but Liz didn’t let that bother her. The shop was taking shape exactly as she’d envisioned it. “You’re obviously a good carpenter. Do you think you’ll ever build houses again?”
“No.”
That was it. No explanation. No reference to their earlier conversation. No acknowledgment of the suppressed desire that hung in the air as thick as the melted chocolate that would soon fill her new vat.
As Carter switched on the saw to cut another length of baseboard, Liz told herself his self-control was a good thing. Maybe it wasn’t too late to master whatever it was that had come over her.
She checked her watch: it was two-thirty, and she was hungry. Carter had to be famished, as well. He hadn’t stopped working since he’d arrived.
“You ready for lunch?” she asked.
“Maybe in a few minutes.”
He was obviously someone who finished whatever task he set himself. No excuses. No wimping out. Liz found this extremely appealing. Keith had said he’d make the improvements, but the night before was the first time he’d tried to accomplish anything at the shop. More often than not, he’d excused himself for one reason or another. “Breaks are allowed, you know.”
Carter hammered the new baseboard into place. “I know.”
“I’ll buy a pizza while I’m out. What kind would you like?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll fend for myself.”
“I’m picking up the kids. I have to feed them anyway. Besides, it’s the least I can do in return for all your help.”
As he stretched to reach into the corner, the muscles of his arms and shoulders strained against his T-shirt and Liz’s mouth went dry.
“Whatever you bring will be fine,” he said, as the whine of the saw shattered the air again.
“I might be in trouble,” she muttered as she headed out, trying to convince herself she preferred a leaner build than Carter’s. She’d thought so just a day ago. But at the moment, even Dave’s body paled in comparison.
The door opened just as Liz reached it, and Mary Thornton strode in as if she owned the place. She was wearing the same kind of business suits she’d worn when she’d worked at the law office. She’d always prided herself on her professional attire. But her smile was as artificial as her nails. “How’s the work coming along?” she shouted above the racket.
Liz tried not to grimace at this unwanted intrusion. “Fine, thanks for asking. But I’m on my way out.”
“I won’t stay long.” Mary turned to inspect the new paint. Then the saw fell silent and she angled her head to see who’d been running it. “Who’s here with you?”
At the sound of their voices, Carter ducked his head into the open doorway.
“This is Carter Hudson, Senator Holbrook’s new aide,” Liz explained. “Maybe you’ve met him.”
“No, but I’ve noticed him driving around town.” Mary said this as if she’d marked those occasions well. But Mary being Mary, Liz wasn’t sure if she was impressed with Carter or with his car. In any case, Carter was no longer visible. He’d gone back to sawing and hammering without so much as a word of greeting.
Perhaps the fact that he hadn’t spoken to Mary was rude, but Liz was slightly gratified. Mary tried to win the heart of every single man she encountered, although she’d risk her own on only a sparse few—chiefly those with thick enough wallets.
When Mary glared in the direction of the sawing, Liz knew she’d expected a warmer reception. “Friendly, isn’t he?” she said.
The saw stopped as abruptly as it had started, but Liz spoke up anyway. “Blunt trauma to the head will do that to a person.”
Mary’s mouth formed an O. “He’s been in an accident?”
“That’s my guess,” Liz whispered loudly. “He’s not telling.”
Carter reappeared in the opening, his scowl indicating he’d heard at least part of the conversation.
Liz gave him a sweet smile, then turned her back on him. Doing and saying exactly what she pleased had its benefits. She wasn’t sure it’d save her from spending the night with him. Now that certain statements had been made, she couldn’t seem to think of anything else. But she felt more liberated than she had in a long while. That was some consolation. “What can I do for you, Mary?” she asked.
“I came to get your e-mail address.”
“It’s [email protected]. Why?”
“I was hoping we could go in together on a newspaper ad or maybe some other promotional ideas, and I wanted to send you the details. Will you be open next weekend for Memorial Day?”
Liz remembered the torn-out sink. Mary wasn’t happy about competition from The Chocolaterie. Liz had known that for some time. But had she stooped t
o vandalism? “It’s possible,” she said.
“You don’t know?”
“I’ve run into a few problems that might delay my schedule.”
“Like what?” Mary threw back her shoulders and Liz suspected she was trying to give Carter an excellent view of her generous profile, should he look up. But he was far too busy hammering.
“Someone yanked my sink from the wall,” she said, watching carefully for Mary’s reaction.
But Mary gave nothing away. “Here? In the shop?”
Liz nodded.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is that all?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Liz asked.
Mary shrugged. “At least the damage will be easy to fix.”
Easy for her, maybe. The only plumber Liz could afford was Sam Brown and he refused to work unless he was broke and needed money to buy booze. When she’d called him on Carter’s cell phone earlier he’d said he’d be out as soon as possible, but since she’d already paid him for the first installation, she knew it could take a while. Unless Carter could do it. But if that was the case, he probably would’ve mentioned it when she’d asked to borrow his phone. “Nothing happened to your store, did it?” she asked.
Mary rubbed her hands together. “Nope. Store’s perfect. Business is good.”
Liz couldn’t believe business was that good. Rarely did she see many customers in Mary’s shop, which made her worry that she’d soon be facing a similar dearth of sales. But she allowed Mary her pride. Right now, Liz was more concerned with the man hammering in her back room, because already she’d nearly stripped off her clothes for him and she still felt the same compulsion. And there was the issue of the vandal. If she was the only one being targeted, it probably meant one of two things. Either the act was completely random. Or whoever had caused the damage had a grudge against her personally.
“How’d he get in?” Mary asked, without acting too concerned. It was the improvements that seemed to interest her more than the actions of Liz’s vandal.
