Someone Like Her

by Janice Kay Johnson

He kept murmuring nonsense, she kept twitching spasmodically and holding on to him so hard, he was afraid he’d have to all but pry her fingers from his when it came time to leave. Eventually she subsided, though, and he thought she might even be asleep by the time he slipped out. He turned off the light as he went, and told the nurse, “She seems to have settled down.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I’ll bet she knew you were there.”

  He felt a pang. She had responded to him. By the time he walked out of the hospital into the night air, however, he’d reminded himself that his mother was unlikely to have the slightest idea who he was if she did wake up. Maybe having anyone at all there holding her hand and talking to her would have calmed her.

  With all the businesses closed, he was able to park right in front of the café. The front door was locked, but Mabel hurried to open it when he knocked.

  “Adrian, I didn’t know you were coming back today.”

  “I wasn’t sure I could make it.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “Lucy in back?”

  She smiled. “I’m done out here. Tell her goodnight.”

  “Will do.”

  Surprising him, she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad you came.” Then she hurried out, leaving him staring after her. Did everyone in town assume he’d ditched Lucy and his mother both for the bright lights of the city?

  Hadn’t he come close?

  “Mabel?” Lucy’s voice came from the kitchen. “Is someone here?”

  “Mabel says goodnight.” Adrian walked toward the back.

  She appeared in the doorway. “Adrian?” Her face lit. “It is you!”

  She hadn’t thought he would show up tonight, either, he realized. He’d have been ticked at her lack of faith, if guilt hadn’t niggled at him for the reluctance he’d felt all day. Part of him hadn’t wanted to ever return to Middleton. He’d been afraid….

  Afraid? Of what? Adrian asked himself in shock, but didn’t let himself pursue an answer he wasn’t sure he had.

  “Yeah,” he said roughly. “It’s me.”

  He took a couple of long strides; she flung herself at him. His arms closed around her compulsively, hers around him as tightly. His heart cramped, his eyes burned, and he thought, Am I afraid of this?

  But he had a bad feeling it wasn’t that simple.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LUCY LIFTED her head at last. “Have you been to the hospital yet?”

  “Yeah.” Adrian slowly, reluctantly, loosened his hold on her. “The nurse said Mom was restless. But it was more than that. It seemed as if…I don’t know, as if she’s fighting something I can’t see.”

  Lucy nodded. “I almost called you this morning. I started to wonder if she can hear us now but can’t quite respond. Think how frustrating that would be.”

  He shuddered, hating to think about her trapped, unable to scream, unable to let anyone know she was there. Yeah, frustrating was one word for it. “You should have called me.”

  “But you said you’d come,” she said simply.

  In complete faith? Or had this been a test? Pass if he showed, fail if he didn’t? Didn’t she understand that real life couldn’t be set aside so easily? Would she close the café for weeks on end because her mother needed her?

  Yeah, he realized. She would.

  “I’m here.” He couldn’t tell her how close a call it had been. Especially not when he felt an overwhelming sense of…rightness. Yeah, that was it.

  To hell with real life, he thought violently, even as he knew he didn’t mean it. Couldn’t afford to mean it.

  “Yes.” She sighed happily and lifted her face.

  Funny thing, given the bruising force of their initial embrace, but this kiss stayed tender. He felt a tearing sense of regret at how close he’d come to disappointing Lucy. He hated the idea that anything he did would hurt her.

  Rubbing his cheek on the top of her head, he said hoarsely, “Are you almost done in here?”

  “Done?” Lucy pulled back, wild roses blooming in her cheeks, her eyes dazed. She blinked. “Oh. You mean the kitchen. Um…Just give me a minute.”

  “Can I help?”

  She shook her head. “I really was almost done.”

  He picked up this week’s edition of the Middleton Courier and sat to read the local gossip while he waited for her, his interest only cursory.

  The high school boys’ baseball team had failed to make the state playoffs, but the coach was optimistic for next year with so many strong players who had been sophomores and juniors this year. Stephanie Marie English had won a Rotary Club scholarship for a college semester in Rome to study art.

  Talk about culture shock for a kid who’d never known anything but Middleton.

  A memorial service held for Lucille Burnbaum had been well-attended. The old lady had been ninety-eight, Adrian read, and most recently had been a resident at the Olympic Retirement Home. She left an astonishing number of descendents. He was not at all surprised to see that she’d graduated from Middleton High School back in the thirties.

  Did anybody ever leave Middleton?

  Ignoring the chill he felt, since he hoped like hell Lucy would in fact be willing to leave behind her hometown, Adrian continued to read.

  Jeffrey and Ann Peterson welcomed a baby boy, weight six pounds seven ounces. They almost had to be related to Lucy. Good God, how many baby, wedding and Christmas presents did she have to buy?

  “I’m ready.”

  He looked up from the paper, startled at how engrossed he’d become. The kitchen was dark, and she was shrugging on a sweater as she crossed the dining room to him. He studied her as she approached.

  Her hair was pulled into a bun, although tiny tendrils straggled after a long day’s work. She looked tired, and yet color was still high in her cheeks and her eyes were soft, as though his mere presence made her happy.

  His chest hurt again. If this was love, it was damned uncomfortable. Why was he having trouble enjoying the moment, uncomplicated by guilt or a sense of inadequacy or the reminder that he only had until Sunday?

  “Good,” he said, voice husky.

  He followed her home, remembering belatedly that he should have checked in at the B and B. Instead, he took his overnight bag into Lucy’s house. He’d claim his room at Samantha’s in the morning. If they were really lucky, no one would happen to notice his car parked out front before then.

  He gave a grunt of amusement. Yeah, right.

  But, hey. Maybe if several relatives chided her about having a man spending the night, it would annoy Lucy enough to give her an added push to make the move to Seattle.

  Of course, he had yet to ask her if she’d consider moving.

  This weekend? Or was it too soon?

  Each time he realized what a short time he’d known Lucy, he felt a fresh shock. In his entire adult life, he’d never let anyone be as important to him as she’d become in a matter of weeks.

  Inside, she told him somewhat shyly that she needed to take a shower. At her suggestion, he made himself a sandwich and had a glass of milk while he waited. The microwaveable dinner he’d eaten at his desk seemed like a distant memory.

  He heard the shower running upstairs, then silence. When she padded barefoot into the kitchen, her face had a rosy hue, her wet hair was loosely braided and she wore a pink chenille robe. The creamy skin and hint of a cleavage revealed at the V of the neckline made him wonder if she wore anything beneath the robe. His body immediately tightened.

  She smiled at him. “Oh, good. You did find something.”

  He had to look down at his hand and the remnant of the sandwich to know what she was talking about. “Yeah. Thanks.” His gaze swept over her hungrily. “I like you barefoot.”

  “My toes like it, too.” Her eyes were an even deeper blue than usual, suffused with some emotion.

  He shoved his plate away and turned the chair, the legs scraping on the floor. “Hey. Come here.”

  She came to him without hesitation, her cheeks eve
n pinker, but her gaze never leaving his. When she stopped in front of him, he reached up and stroked the smooth, clean line of her throat, continuing down her chest to where the shawl collar crossed. When he untied the robe and slowly parted it, she made no move to resist, only watching his face.

  She was naked beneath it, her skin warm and fragrant from the shower, her breasts perfect handfuls, her waist supple and slender, her hips a gentle swell. She quivered with reaction as his hands savored her body.

  Adrian had never felt a surge of desire so savage. For a moment he went still, trying to get a grip on himself. “I shouldn’t have started this until we’d made it to bed,” he said rawly.

  “I always did love that scene in Bull Durham,” she whispered.

  He laughed. At least, he thought he did. With one hand he swept the plate and glass from the table, wincing at the sound of glass splintering. Then he lifted her up, the robe open, and sat her butt on the table. One more sight of her body, pale and pretty and sexier than anything he’d ever seen in his life, and he crushed her mouth beneath his.

  Her arms clamped around his neck and she kissed him with hunger as ferocious and undeniable.

  “You’re beautiful,” he heard himself say once, in a voice he didn’t recognize. The words I love you were there, too, but clogged in his throat. He hadn’t said them since he was a little boy, and his tongue didn’t know how to shape them.

  They got his shirt unbuttoned, but not off, his pants open. If he hadn’t carried a condom in his wallet, right there, he wouldn’t have had the strength of will to go find one. He tried to let her put it on, but thought he’d explode at the tentative touch of her fingers. With a guttural sound he took over, kissing her the whole while, pushing her back down onto the dining-room table. Her legs locked around his waist as he slammed into her in an act so primitive, he’d lost all ability to reason. Sensation rolled atop sensation: creamy skin, gasps, the sharp edge of her teeth, the hot slick glove of her body.

  She cried out, spasming, taking him with her. Shock-waves ripped through him, the pleasure so intense he didn’t know how he’d live through it and come out unchanged.

  He went still as the waves washed out, still holding her with arms that shook. Suddenly unsure his legs would keep holding him, he wrapped her tight and all but fell onto the chair, Lucy straddling him.

  They both gasped for breath. Adrian nuzzled his face against the curve where her neck met her shoulder, breathing in her scent. Lavender, maybe; he didn’t know. Something flowery but subtle, something Lucy.

  “Did you miss me?” she murmured.

  His laugh was far more genuine this time, if also as shaken as he felt. “Oh, yeah. You could say that.” He kissed the base of her throat, her pulse skittering against his lips. I love you. “I don’t want to be without you.”

  “What?” She pulled back to study him with the startled, wary look of a doe surprised around a bend in the trail.

  “Do you think—” he cleared his throat “—you could consider moving to Seattle?”

  She was silent for a moment, her eyes searching his. “Are you asking me to live with you?” He could hear the constraint in her voice.

  “No.” He hadn’t known what he was going to say until this moment. “It’s probably too soon, but…Ah, I’m asking you to marry me.”

  “Marry you.”

  It was killing him that he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “I won’t pressure you—”

  “Why do you want to marry me?” she asked. “Is it because of…this?” Her glance down encompassed their bodies, half-dressed, flushed with the most intense sex of his life.

  “No.” He twitched. “Yes, of course, but—” Say it. He swallowed, and stepped off into space. “I’ve never known anyone like you. Anyone with your heart.” He laid his fingertips right where it beat, beneath her breast. His voice became scratchy. “I love you.”

  “Ohhh,” she breathed, and suddenly her eyes welled with tears. “I thought—I was afraid—” She pressed her lips together. “I never dreamed—”

  “What? Say it.”

  “That you’d want me forever. I thought this might be…casual for you.”

  Throat tight, he said, “I’m not a casual man.”

  “You love me.”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t take his eyes from her face, dominated by those huge blue eyes swelling with tears. “Is there any chance…?”

  “Yes!” She laughed even as she cried. “Yes! I think I fell in love with you that first night here, when you looked so stunned.”

  Grinning foolishly, Adrian devoured the sight of her face. “You’ll marry me? You’ll at least think about it? I don’t want to keep leaving you here. I didn’t—” He stopped, stunned by what he’d almost said.

  Her head tilted like a curious bird’s. “You don’t…?”

  He tugged her close, so she couldn’t see his face. To the top of her head, he finished the sentence. “I didn’t like myself without you around.” He paused. “I was angry all week.”

  “Oh, Adrian!” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing hard enough to steal the air from his lungs. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love—”

  He surged to his feet and said urgently, “Let’s go to bed.”

  She laughed, even though her cheeks were still wet. “I can walk, you know.”

  Adrian had the rueful realization that his pants were down around his knees. “I think you’ll have to,” he admitted, letting her slide down his body to the floor.

  She really laughed when she realized what his dilemma was, but he didn’t mind. Her laughter never had a bite to it.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled in pretend annoyance, and pulled up his pants. The glint of glass caught his eye, and he said, “Ah…I seem to have made a mess.”

  Tying the belt on her robe, she peered at the dishes and shards of glass scattered on the floor. “I can clean it up in the morning. I don’t feel like it right now.” She grinned at him. “You can break my glasses anytime you want.”

  That earned her another kiss, after which she turned out lights as he picked up his overnight bag at the foot of the stairs and went with her to her bedroom.

  He detoured to the bathroom to clean up and brush his teeth, returning to her bedroom to find her already in bed, her robe laid over the back of an antique rocking chair.

  She smiled at him. “I hope you brought more than one condom.”

  He lifted a box from his bag. “A man who feels like I do never goes unprepared.”

  There was that laugh again; no, that giggle, airy and young and heartstoppingly happy.

  He had made her happy. Adrian didn’t think he’d ever made anyone happy before, outside of triumphs in the courtroom that satisfied his clients.

  Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he had the disquieting realization that he didn’t want to make Lyle Galbreath happy. The son of a bitch deserved to fry, not to be bailed out to offend again all so that his company could make more money.

  That’s my job.

  He didn’t always have to like it.

  Maybe tomorrow he’d talk to Lucy. See what she thought. But not now. Now, he was going to make love with her again.

  With, he thought, the woman I’m going to marry.

  He flung his pants over the same chair. Her wide-eyed gaze went to his erection. Then, she lifted the covers to welcome him into her bed.

  LUCY AWAKENED in the morning first to the realization that she wasn’t alone in bed; her head was pillowed on a warm, solid chest and she seemed to be draped over a man.

  Adrian, she thought sleepily, contentedly. She had no immediate inclination to move. From his slow, deep breathing, it was obvious he was still sound asleep. Heaven knows they’d been up a good part of the night.

  He loved her. He’d asked her to marry him.

  Joy fizzed in her chest, but it wasn’t alone. Puzzled, Lucy tried to identify the funny mix of emotions that didn’t seem to quite blend.

 
She was happy. Of course she was. She wished—oh, that she was a little more sure of Adrian, that this wasn’t some kind of crazy impulse on his part that had to do with his having found his mother, and him being so certain that no one else in the world would have championed her the way Lucy had. It was as if he’d never met any nice people before. He was so utterly convinced she was special in a way she didn’t really think she was. Some people gave their lives to helping the homeless, or children orphaned by AIDS, or…abandoned animals, or any of a thousand important causes. All she’d done was be nice to one gentle, confused, lost woman. It had been practically an afterthought. Adrian was bound to realize some day that she was actually pretty average. And then what would happen?

  Maybe she was the one who needed to gain confidence, she tried to tell herself. He loved her. Why was she so determined to question his feelings, and so quickly? Because she didn’t believe in her good fortune, that someone like him really wanted her?

  But she didn’t think that was it. No matter what Adrian said, she’d never be able to think of herself as beautiful. But he had succeeded in erasing some of her certainty that she was the plain sister. Clearly, he didn’t see her that way, which pleased her immeasurably.

  No, the faintly queasy feeling in her stomach, Lucy realized, had more to do with what all this meant. She’d be selling the café and looking for a job working for someone else, because she couldn’t imagine that she could afford or had the resources to start a restaurant in Seattle. And…she’d be moving to Seattle, of course. Adrian had said something about his condo, which meant no garden. Unless they could pick out a house together? A roommate from Lucy’s freshman year in college lived in Bellevue, but otherwise she’d be starting all over to create a circle of friends. The idea should be exciting. It was exciting! She’d been so sure all her life that she wanted to live somewhere that was more vibrant, more sophisticated. She had been getting awfully set in her ways. What was it she’d thought last week? That she was contented. Lucy wasn’t sure she liked that word. It sounded middle-aged and stodgy. Wasn’t it past time she struck out on a new path, not surrounded by people who’d known her forever? Just think, her family wouldn’t be butting in to every decision she made.