by Lynn Turner
Neil’s eyes narrowed, and he increased the pressure of his arms until she had to take a step closer to him. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed her bare thighs, making her unwillingly aware of his lean virility.
“How good a friend?” he demanded softly.
“That’s none of your business! And let go of me! If you think you can come into my house and demand explanations from me, you’re wrong!”
“Is he your lover?” Still that soft voice, but now it was lined with steel. Lacey knew he wouldn’t let up until she gave him an answer, and she refused to liel Not even for the sake of her own pride. Her chin went up, her eyes glittering in challenge.
“Not yet,” she said distinctly.
She half expected him to call her a liar. Either that or shake her until her teeth rattled. He did neither.
“Why not?” he asked, his voice still soft.
“What?” Lacey wasn’t sure she’d heard right.
“Why not7 It’s sure not for lack of interest on his part. How long have you known him?” The question rapped out so fast Lacey answered without thinking.
“A year. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You’ve held out for a whole year?”
His skepticism stung her. “I’ve held out’ for almost eight I” she snapped, and immediately wanted to rip out her tongue. Her sex life—or lack of it—was no business of his.
She harbored no illusions about Neil’s bedroom activities since they’d parted. Knowing his appetites and capacity, she didn’t suppose for a minute that he’d lived those years as a monk. For men like Neil, finding witling partners was never a problem. He had it all: looks, money and an animal magnetism that practically oozed from his pores. It had been a prop to her ego to have him think she’d had her share of lovers, too, and at the same time provided a shield, of sorts. She held her breath for his reaction.
“Is that the truth?” he asked, frowning. “In eight years, you’ve never ,..” He trailed off, as if the idea was too fantastic to be believed. Lacey grimly decided to brazen it out.
“Slept with a man,” she finished for him. “Yes, it’s the truth.”
“Why?” He sounded both stunned and confused. “A woman like you—you can’t tell me men don’t approach you constantly.”
Lacey finally had to lower her eyes. “You know why, If you’ll just think about it,” she murmured in a shaky alto.
“I thought it was just me,” he said after a long, nerve-racking silence. Then he pulled her to his chest slowly but purposefully. Lacey let her hands rest on his shoulders, neither pushing him away nor returning his embrace, caught between embarrassment and a crazy, fluttery feeling too much like hope to be comfortable.
“Oh, baby, what did I do to you?” Neil sighed into her hair. “Are you that afraid of sex? Of men?”
Lacey somehow knew that it was vitally important to answer honestly, that their entire future—or whether they’d even have one—could depend on what she said next. Her fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt nervously.
“I think….” She faltered, then went on, “I think I’m afraid to find out. It’s like when I was a little girl—reason and logic told me there was nothing in the closet at night that hadn’t been there during the day; but all the same, if I didn’t open the door, whatever was there couldn’t jump up and grab me and drag me in with it.”
Neil’s hands moved slowly over her back, communicating a silent message of understanding. Lacey felt some of her tension drain away under their soothing motion, and her palms once more flattened on his shoulders, feeling the hard ridge of bone and the slight flex of muscle,
“There could be another reason,” he suggested silkily. “Maybe you’ve always known deep down inside that you’d never find what we had with any other man.”
Lacey’s tone was unexpectedly sarcastic as she answered, “I imagine you’d like to believe that, anyway.”
“Yes! You’re damned right I would!” Neil said fiercely as his hands suddenly pressed her closer. “It sure beats thinking I turned you into some kind of frigid neurotic!”
“Thanks,” she muttered. “You always did have a gift for flattery.”
To her surprise his arms relaxed, and she felt his mouth brush her temple in a fleeting caress. “I’ve come dangerously close to losing my temper several times in the last few minutes,” he murmured against her skin, making it tingle pleasurably. “And you’ve known it. But have you cringed in terror or started to shake like a leaf in the wind?” His rich laugh was pleased, almost exultant. “Nol You just keep coming back at me, like a hell-bent little fighter. Lacey, you’re fantastic!”
He suddenly moved, shifting his hold to clasp the back of her head as his mouth locked on hers in a hard kiss. Lacey’s stomach quivered, though she wasn’t sure whether in fear or excitement, and her hands pressed against the cool cotton of his shirt.
“Neil, stop it!” she gasped when he gave her the chance.
“No,” he refused calmly. She thought she detected a trace of amusement in his voice and didn’t know whether to be more surprised or angry. “Put your arms around my neck.”
“I will not!” she retorted, refusing the arrogant command,
“Wanta bet?” Neil murmured, and then before Lacey could twist her head away he reclaimed her mouth.
The old melting warmth stole over her again, weakening her, making her knees and hips feel dangerously loose-jointed. She murmured a halfhearted “No,” against his lips, and their pressure increased to shut her up. She held out as long as she could, prolonging his gentle persuasion, and then at last her hands crept slowly over his shoulders to link together at the back of his neck. Neil sighed—a contented, satisfied release of breath—as his arms and hands molded her more fully to him. She felt his arousal, but except for a momentary flicker of unease she wasn’t alarmed. Quite the opposite, in fact. The knowledge that he desired her just as much as ever gave her a boost of confidence. Her fingers threaded slowly through his thick hair, her nails raking his scalp as she started to return the kiss.
Neil moaned softly, and then she felt his hand slide beneath her tank top at the waist. His palm glided upward over her smooth torso until his fingers could curve around her breast. His thumb gently teased the nipple while his mouth continued to work its sensual magic, his lips busy, constantly moving over hers, probing and tasting with an enjoyment he didn’t try to hide. Lacey was trembling when he finally pulled back a little to look at her flushed face.
“Will you let me stay now?” he whispered huskily. Lacey gasped for breath. She clung to his neck, afraid she’d fall if she let go. “I can’t,” she said in an unsteady voice.
His thumb slid across her nipple, making her inhale sharply with pleasure. “You want me, Lacey, as much as I want you,” he told her. She could tell he was having to exert quite an effort to control his own voice, and she could feel his heart racing in unison with hers. “Deny it—if you can.”
She couldn’t, and even if she had, he’d have known she was lying, “Yes, I want you. You know it,” she admitted tremulously. “But I can’t, Neil. I just can’t! It’s too soon.”
He hesitated briefly, then slid forward on the stool as he forced her into a hard, shockingly intimate contact with his body, his thighs gripping hers while his arms and hands impelled her against him.
“Is this what frightens you?” he asked softly. He pulled at her hips, his hardness a very real threat as he shifted slightly to move against her. “My body, the way it responds whenever I hold you—is that it?”
Lacey had gone rigid. Her palms felt clammy, and there was a buzzing sound in her ears. “Yes,” she panted as she strained to pull away from him. “Yes! Neil, please! Don’t do thisl”
His mouth thinned as he took in her pale face and wide, distressed eyes, but instead of releasing her he moved one arm to her shoulders and pulled her against his chest, so that they were pressed together from collarbone to pelvis.
“It’s all right,
” he told her quietly. “I’m only holding you, Lacey. We’re both dressed, and there are four kids within earshot if you decide to call for help. Just let yourself relax. Get used to the feel of me against you again. Let go of the fear and just feel. There’s nothing frightening about my body—you know it as well as you know your own.”
He kept talking calmly and reasonably, his voice never rising or falling enough to disturb the gradual way he was steadying her nerves,
“There, see,” he murmured when her body had relaxed by slow degrees, and she stood passive in his arms, “It’s okay. I can hold you so close a flea couldn’t get between us, wanting you like crazy the whole time, and still manage to control my raging lust.”
He caught Lacey’s slight involuntary smile and dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. “Okay?” he asked, and she nodded, looking up at him thoughtfully.
“In the past two hours you’ve turned my life upside down for the second time,” she told him without rancor. “And I’m not sure whether I like it or not.”
“How do you think I feel?” Neil muttered, a wry twist to his mouth, “I came here with the intention of winning my wife back, and now I find I’ve got three people to convince instead of one. What are you grinning at?”
Lacey shook her head innocently, “I was just thinking it’s just as well you were already gray.”
Neil’s eyes gleamed between lowered lashes. “That’s right, remind me what a decrepit old geezer I am. Just remember, lady, I’m still man enough to handle you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Lacey said under her breath.
“Don’t be.” His voice was a throaty caress as he lowered his head. The kiss was meant to be a reassurance, but when Lacey’s lips parted under his, Neil’s suppressed passion flared to life and became urgent. He pulled away before he lost control, burying his face in her neck. He was breathing hard.
“If I don’t get out of here, I’ll really give you reason to be afraid,” he muttered thickly. He took a deep, slightly ragged breath and then hugged her fiercely before setting her free. “Come on, walk me to the door.”
From the front walk Lacey watched him drive away and then went inside to try and sort out her feelings. It seemed inevitable that whenever she and Neil met, they clashed. But the confrontations were becoming less sharp, less painful, and through them they had begun to reach a new understanding of each other. The old wounds, having been exposed, had started to heal. Whether they would ever heal completely, only time would tell.
From the music and occasional outbursts of giggling outside, it would be quite a while before the boys settled down for the night, Lacey made sure the patio door was unlocked and a light was on over the kitchen sink. Little boys, she knew, might need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, or flee a sudden invasion of slobbering, red-eyed monsters. Then she went down to the family room to take care of the monthly bills.
Her family was in really good shape financially and every other way, she reflected as she stuck a stamp on the last envelope—the Visa payment. She’d started prepaying the principal on the mortgage a couple of years ago and had financed her car through a local bank for tax purposes—she’d needed the interest to deduct—but not because she had to. It was amazing to realize that if she’d wanted, she could have walked into the showroom and written a check for a new car. Absolutely amazing, but, oh, so satisfying after the years of struggling to make ends meet.
She switched on the television to catch the news, then sank onto the couch with a contented sigh. This year had been a good one, so far. The boys had finished second grade with consistently good marks and praise from their teachers for both their scholastic achievements and model behavior. Business had been good—so good, in fact, that she was seriously considering hiring an insurance specialist to share some of the work load she now shouldered alone. Altogether, her life had shaped up very nicely, she thought proudly.
It was also pride that made her want Neil to acknowledge how well she’d done for herself and his sons—to admit that she’d succeeded not only without him but in spite of him. She wanted him to validate her efforts, she realized in surprise, and to endorse her accomplishments. How revolting! Thoroughly disgusted with herself, she turned off the television and the lights and went to bed.
Neil’s reaction to his first soccer match was typical of the average father who’d grown up playing and watching football games, Lacey thought in amusement. She’d brought two lawn chairs, but as usual she was only in hers between halves. The rest of the time she was on her feet, cheering for her sons’ team at the top of her lungs. Neil looked almost embarrassed to be with her at first, but within fifteen minutes he was at her side, enthusiastic if more than a little confused by some of his sons’ antics.
“What the devil was that? Did he do that on purpose?”
“Of course he did it on purpose. It’s called ‘heading the ball.’ They practice it at home all the time.”
“Why?” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe any normal child would deliberately go around bouncing a ball off his skull, much less practice to perfect the technique.
Lacey chuckled. “I can see we’re going to have to give you a few lessons on the basics of soccer,” she teased. “That’s the glamour shot, and your sons do it better than anybody else their age,”
Neil shook his head, but there was a note of pride in his voice as he commented that if they had to participate in such a crazy sport, at least they did seem to be good at it.
Lacey was aware of the curious glances being directed their way as they stood together on the sidelines, but she tried not to let it get to her. Fortunately, she’d at least managed to warn Paul that Neil would be at the match. Sensing her concern that there might be an uncomfortable moment when the two of them came face to face, Paul had acknowledged Neil’s presence with a brief nod and then busied himself with his team. Lacey was grateful for his tact, although she suspected he was playing a game of his own that had nothing to do with soccer. Paul’s was a waiting game, and his strategy would be to sit back and let the opposition make the first move.
The twins’ team won by a score of two to nothing. Todd had scored the first goal and Scott the second, and they were still congratulating each other when they came off the pitch at the end of the match. Lacey wondered if Neil was aware of the speculative looks they gave him as he accompanied them to the parking lot. If so, he gave no sign. He looked very handsome, dressed in a stark white polo shirt and charcoal slacks. But then he always looked handsome. Neil was one of those men whose body made whatever he hung on it look good, though until yesterday she’d never seen him in anything but immaculately tailored clothes.
He foliowed them home and parked his truck beside Lacey’s car in the drive. The boys looked at him again and then at each other as they walked to the house, exchanging a silent message Lacey was at a loss to interpret. They were unnaturally quiet as she led the way into the kitchen to pour everyone a glass of iced tea. She turned from the counter to find them staring at her, and their utterly solemn expressions took her by surprise. She frowned a little as she carried the tray holding the glasses to the table. Neil came from the doorway, where he’d been lounging with his hands in his pockets, to stand close beside her. He gave her a questioning look, and Lacey shrugged a response. Something was definitely in the air. The boys usually talked a blue streak after a match, and they were always ready for a cold drink. Now they stood like a pair of small statues regarding the two adults.
‘Todd? Scott?” she asked with motherly concern. “Is anything wrong?”
“No,” said Scott.
“We’re just waiting,” added Todd.
“Waiting?” she repeated in puzzlement.
“For the talk,” Scott explained.
Lacey was growing more confused by the minute, “The talk? What talk?”
“You know, mom.” Todd glanced up at Neil, who looked no more enlightened than Lacey. “The one where you tell us who he is.”
Her eyes flew to Neil in startled surprise. Before she could think of a response he motioned her to keep silent and dropped into a chair to put himself closer to eye level with the twins.
“Who do you think I am?” he asked softly.
They exchanged an uncertain look, then took turns answering.
“Well, we’re not sure …”
“But we think maybe…”
“You might be….”
And then together, “Our dad.”
Lacey was stunned, absolutely flabbergasted. How did they guess?
Neil leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he studied their faces closely. “And how would you feet about it if I said I was?” he asked, his tone guarded and low.
“Oh, we’d like it!” Scott answered at once. “Right, Todder?”
“Right,” Todd confirmed with a nod. “We already talked about it, and we decided you’d be a neat dad, even if you don’t know much about putting up tents. You’re funny,” he elaborated with an impish grin.
Lacey decided it was time she got into the act. “Hold on a minute here. When did you talk about it? And what made you think Neil was your father in the first place?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Todd answered. “We saw you kissing each other.”
“Last night,” Scott put in, “through the window.”
They both turned to Neil. “See, mom doesn’t go around kissing guys much,” Scott told him seriously.
“Anyway, not like that!”
“So we knew you were somebody special.”
“And who’s more special than a dad?”
Neil looked up at Lacey, his eyes twinkling. “You can’t fault their logic,” he drawled.
“Are you?” Todd had become impatient with waiting for an answer. Neil glanced back at the boys, and the wistful appeal on their faces sobered him instantly.
“Yes,” he said softly. “I’m your father.” There was a roughness to his voice that didn’t escape Lacey, and she swallowed hard, her throat suddenly tight.
