by Carol Grace
“Nothing, dear, I’m fine,” Granny said. “It’s just…nothing. Ohh.” She put one hand on her hip.
“What’s wrong? It’s your hip, isn’t it?” Amelia asked with a worried frown. “Why didn’t you tell the doctor it was bothering you?”
“It wasn’t. Not then. But don’t worry about me. You have enough on your mind. I couldn’t help overhearing you talking on the phone this morning. You have problems of your own.”
“Nothing that won’t keep,” Amelia said, crossing her fingers behind her back and hoping she wouldn’t be struck by lightning for lying. She had problems galore, and they couldn’t wait. But Granny came first. “Did you twist your hip getting out of the truck?”
“Oh, no. At least, I don’t think so.”
“Shall I call the doctor?” Amelia asked.
“Don’t be silly. You heard what he said. I’m fine.”
“But you’re not. You’re in pain.”
“I wish Brian hadn’t dashed off like that. I would have asked him…never mind.”
“What? What is it?”
“Well, he has the most wonderful tea he served me one day when I stopped in to see him. It’s so soothing, so calming. It’s called, oh, I can’t remember—something Chinese. It’s made from herbs. The Chinese use it for medicinal purposes.”
“I’ll call him. Maybe he could bring it over,” Amelia suggested.
Granny smiled. Amelia noted that Granny looked better already. There was a little color in her cheeks and her eyes looked brighter. But was it the thought of the tea or the thought of Brian coming by? Of course he agreed to bring the tea. Whatever the cause, the effect on Granny was a positive one. And when Brian walked in the door, Granny really perked up.
Amelia looked at her with surprise. Was she faking this latest setback? Of course not. Why would she do that? Why, indeed? For the same reason she was manufacturing all these reasons for Amelia to go to Brian’s house. She was determined to get them together.
Amelia stood and watched while Brian brewed a pot of his special tea. She had to admit he knew his way around a kitchen, especially Granny’s. In a few minutes, he had a pot of fragrant, steaming tea on the table. He poured three cups and, without even asking, spooned honey into each of them.
“Thank you, Brian,” Granny said sweetly from the couch. “I feel better already. Now you two run along outside. It’s time for my soap opera.”
“I didn’t know you watched the soaps,” Amelia said. In fact, she knew for certain that Granny hated the soaps. She made fun of “people who had nothing better to do than watch that drivel.”
“Normally I don’t, but since I’ve been laid up, I’ve gotten hooked on one called The Beverly Hills Heroes. Don’t look down your nose, Amelia, it’s better than those reality shows you young people watch these days.”
“I don’t watch reality shows, Granny,” Amelia said indignantly.
“Of course not. Your parents would never approve.” Granny picked up the remote control and waved the two of them away.
Amelia looked at Brian. He gave her a half smile. He knew perfectly well what Granny was up to, and so did she. So they walked out the front door onto the patio and sat down in Granny’s lounge chairs. Sure enough, the television was on in the background. Maybe she really did watch the soaps. At least, she was watching them today.
Amelia sipped her tea. She didn’t know what else to do. Since he’d made it, she could hardly dump it on the ground. It was too hot out for hot tea but that would be rude.
“So your parents don’t approve of lightweight TV any more than they do of toys,” Brian said.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t watch it,” Amelia said. “Or that I can’t use a pogo stick or ride a roller coaster. They don’t control my life anymore.”
“Don’t they?” he asked.
“Of course not. I’m my own person. I lead my own life. I don’t even see them that much.”
“They must be proud of you, succeeding in such a competitive field.”
“It’s what they expected. Actually, they expected me to be a CEO by now.”
“Why aren’t you?” he asked.
“That’s what they want to know. Am I not working hard enough? Not motivated? Distracted?”
“Well?”
She sighed. She had no answer for him, nor for herself. She’d been passed over for the job just last year, so she’d moved to another company. Would it happen soon? Was it ever going to happen?
“Could it be it’s not what you want, but what they want for you?”
“Of course not. You don’t know anything about me, or you wouldn’t say that.”
“Do they know you any better?”
“Good question. Sometimes I wonder.”
“You said they were gone a lot, left you here during the summers.”
“Yes, but they returned by fall to make sure I got back on track during the school year, so I could get into the right high school, then the right college and, of course, on to get my MBA.”
He whistled. “I’m impressed. I have no head for business. My patent attorney and my accountant have to handle everything. I’d be better off if I took more of an interest in the business side of my career.”
“Why should you? You’re creative. Right brain. Not many people are both.”
“I take it you were an only child.”
“I was a lonely only child. I hated it. If I ever get married and have any red-haired kids, I’m going to have more than one.”
“How does your boyfriend feel about that?” he asked tightly.
“Jeff?” She was startled by his question. “I don’t know. I’ve never asked him.” Why hadn’t she? Was it because she really couldn’t see herself marrying him? This man that she’d only met a few days ago was making her question everything in her life—her job, and now her almost fiancé. It was disturbing. She didn’t need any more uncertainty in her life. She quickly changed the subject. “What about you? Didn’t you tell me you were making those toys with your own kids in mind?”
There was a long silence while Amelia thought she’d probed too much, asked too many questions. Maybe he was offended, or maybe just reluctant to confide in a stranger. Considering the warning signs on his gate and his whole attitude the first time she’d met him, that would be no surprise She was ready to apologize when he finally spoke.
“Did I say that? Wishful thinking, I guess. But when my wife left, over a year ago, and suddenly there were no kids in my future, I quit working. I didn’t see the point. Ridiculous, really, to make it so personal. It was a business.”
Wife? She held her breath and pretended that he hadn’t just made a huge breakthrough. He’d confided in her. He’d mentioned kids before, but no wife. Now she knew that the woman had left him. No wonder he was hurt. No wonder he’d buried himself. She responded to his last remark.
“Sure, it was a business, but a creative one that requires a certain frame of mind. I know, I deal with programmers, and when they’re upset about something in their lives, they can’t work. It’s my job to focus their energy and spark their creativity.”
“I’ll bet you’re good at it,” he said with such frank admiration in his eyes it made her blush.
“I try,” she said.
“Creative or not, the reality is, I was making toys to sell to the masses, so it shouldn’t have made a difference if I didn’t have any kids in my life. But somehow, I just couldn’t keep doing it.” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but the troubled look in his deep-set eyes and the lines in his forehead told her that the trauma, whatever it was, was still bothering him.
“You said this was over a year ago?” she asked carefully.
He looked at his watch. “Fourteen months. But who’s counting?”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. I’m not. Not anymore.”
Amelia edged her chair closer to his. She wanted to reach out and put her hand on his arm. She wanted to tell him how well he was doin
g. But she was afraid he didn’t want her sympathy. She was afraid he’d jump up and make some excuse to disappear down that path to his house, and she’d never see him again. Anytime now, he could revert to his hostile, hermit-like self. So she sat there, afraid to move or say anything, until he got to his feet. She held her breath. He walked toward Granny’s lavender bushes that lined her path, broke off a stem and stuck it in his pocket. Then he walked back across the patio, a faraway look in his eyes.
“Since you’ve arrived, I’ve hardly thought about her. I’d lost interest in my work, as you noticed, but now I can’t wait to get back to my barn and think about what to do next.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why, or what you’ve done, but I feel like a different person.”
“Nothing,” she said softly. “If anyone’s done anything, it’s you. You were ready, you just didn’t know it.”
“I don’t think so. Or if I was ready, I couldn’t act on it. Somebody had to show me. Somebody had to believe in me.”
Amelia held her breath.
“You,” he said, holding her by the shoulders and looking deep into her eyes. A shiver ran up Amelia’s spine. Her eyes locked with his, and for a long moment, she was conscious of nothing but him and the faint buzz of the bees in the background.
“She didn’t just leave,” he said suddenly.
Amelia blinked. He dropped his hands from her shoulders. She just looked at him, waiting, hoping he’d continue.
Brian didn’t want to talk about his ex-wife. It was too painful. A few people knew— Helen for one, and his attorney for another, because he’d handled the formalities. So why was he on the verge of confiding in an almost-total stranger? Was it the look in her eyes, unwavering and nonjudgmental? Or was it the fact that she’d confided in him? That he knew so much about her, but she knew nothing about him?
Helen could have told her, but he knew she hadn’t. He trusted Helen with his secrets more than anyone. It gave him a warm feeling to realize that even knowing everything about him, Helen was still apparently willing to throw him and her precious granddaughter together. Not that that was ever going to work, but still…
Or was the real reason that he’d kissed her last night and she’d kissed him back? She’d kissed him with so much fervor, without even knowing anything about him, or not much, anyway. Not the important stuff. Or was it because he couldn’t stop thinking about her? Was it because he wanted to kiss her again, right now, in the garden, with the smell of lavender under his nose and the bittersweet taste of Chinese herbal tea lingering on his tongue?
He wanted to grab her and crush her body to his. To wrap his arms around her and feel her breasts pressed against his chest. To bury his face in her beautiful, shiny hair and smell the fragrance of her soft skin. He wanted to lose himself for a few minutes, or a few hours, and forget the past. Was that so wrong?
The psychiatrist he’d gone to after Natalie had left would say no, of course not. In fact, he’d be pleased to hear it. To a professional analyst, it might sound like the first steps on the road to recovery. Or maybe the first step was the day Amelia had appeared at his door. Maybe it was just that his dormant lust had returned, and when Amelia left, it would leave, too. But what the hell? This was a fling. For her. For him. A rare departure for both of them. She was a workaholic with an almost fiancé. And he? He didn’t know how to trust anymore. Maybe that’s why he had to tell somebody about himself. Not somebody. Her.
“She hated it here,” he blurted. “I knew that. I don’t know why I expected any different. It was just…” He spread his hands in a gesture of futility. “A ridiculous idea, bringing somebody like her to live here. She was out of her element—no friends, no fun, no work. Just me, and I was certainly no fun. I was working night and day on a new toy. Under deadline from the manufacturer. Looking back, I don’t know what I was thinking to imagine it would work.” He paced back and forth across the porch.
“But she had to think that, too, or she wouldn’t have come,” Amelia said, wrapping her arms around her waist.
He stopped pacing to look her in the eye. “I talked her into it. I told her it was beautiful up here.”
“It is.”
“I told her it was a great place to raise a family. Toys, kids, the creek, the outdoors.”
“It is,” Amelia said. “It really is.”
Brian continued as if she hadn’t spoken. Now that he’d begun, he had to finish the story. He had to tell Amelia everything. “When I saw this place a few years ago, all I could think about was bringing a wife here, having kids, making toys for them, working at home, enjoying the country. I fooled myself into thinking it would work. I wanted to make Natalie into someone she wasn’t. I’ll never do that again. Because it wasn’t enough for her. She needed more than I could give her. I thought she’d make friends, find some kind of work, some kind of happiness.”
“I gather she didn’t find any of those things.”
“She found a friend,” he said stiffly.
Amelia didn’t say anything, she just looked at him.
“He worked at a health club in Rosewood, over the hill. She went there to work out. It was the only thing she looked forward to. He was her personal trainer.” Brian paused and raked one hand through his hair. He studied Amelia for a long moment. There was no going back now. He had to tell the whole story. He hoped she wouldn’t pity him. He didn’t want or need pity. “One night, she left with him. Left for good. Didn’t tell me to my face, just left me a note. It was a foggy night. They were speeding, and crashed into a redwood tree halfway down the hill. They were both killed instantly.”
“Oh, my God. Brian, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes filled with tears. But it wasn’t pity he saw in her eyes, it was sympathy. There was a difference. It was more than sympathy, it was understanding and caring. She put her arms around his waist and hugged him. He felt a hard knot in his chest dissolve as he held her tight and buried his face in her hair. He didn’t know if it was because he’d finally told someone, or if it was just that time really did heal all wounds or…or was it something else? Was it her? Did it take another woman to make him lose his guilt for ignoring Natalie, his sorrow over his failed marriage? He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to feel. And what he felt was lust, passion and the life force coming back.
He kissed her then, one hand laced through her hair, supporting her head, the other on the small of her back. She felt so good, so right in his arms, he forgot about Helen inside the house. He forgot about the past and the future. He was immersed in the softness, the sweetness and the reality of the woman in his arms. His blood was pumping through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her body.
Amelia felt the force of his kisses, and in the back of her mind she guessed the reason—he was coming to terms with his loss. He was using her to get over it. She didn’t care. She just wanted to feel the beat of his heart against hers, the thrust of his body against hers as their tongues tangled.
His hand reached under her shirt and cupped her breast. She gasped. She’d never felt like this before, never wanted to rip a man’s clothes off and make love to him under the shade of an apple tree. He stroked her nipple through the satin of her bra, and she felt her knees buckle. He braced her against him, his kisses deeper, wilder than before. She matched them kiss for kiss. Her whole body thrummed with tension. She wanted him. He wanted her. It seemed so simple. She staggered backward toward the apple tree. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued his barrage of kisses until she backed into the rough bark of the tree. The smell of apples filled the air. The sun filtered through the leaves. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Brian. She was breathing hard. So was he.
He pulled her down to the ground, and they sprawled on their sides in the leaves, smiling at each other. He took a leaf from her hair and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.
“You have the most beautiful hair,” he said roughly.
“You think so?” she asked lightly, trying to catch her brea
th. “You haven’t called me Red lately.”
That did it. It brought back the first day she’d arrived and he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her copper-colored hair. He’d wanted her then, he just couldn’t admit it. But now, that one remark sent him almost over the edge.
Chapter Eight
Brian rolled over and pressed his body on top of hers. That beautiful hair framed her face like a halo. He braced his arms on the dry ground next to her shoulders and studied her face. Then the memories came flooding back—another woman, another time, a disastrous outcome. “Amelia,” he said hoarsely, his mouth against her ear. “We can’t do this.”
“What?” She sat up, and he jumped back and got to his feet. “Why not?” she asked, looking up at him. She had to know now. Before she got any more involved. Before she made a fool of herself. Was it because of his past? Was it something she’d done? “All women aren’t like your wife, you know.”
“Of course not. That’s not it,” he said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He paced back and forth. “The point is, I haven’t changed. I was a lousy husband, a lousy lover.”
She licked her lips. Her whole body throbbed. She’d never been kissed like that before. She’d lost track of time and space. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the ground. “I find that hard to believe.” Her voice shook. She couldn’t control it.
“I want to think I’ve changed, but I haven’t. Oh, I hadn’t been working until the other day, but once I start, I forget everything else, everyone else.”
“Fine. Go ahead. Go ahead and work. It’s important to you. Forget me, forget everyone. I’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”
“I know. I just thought maybe…”
“Maybe what? We’d have a brief fling, a summer romance? No thanks.” Of course, that’s all she’d wanted until now. Now everything was different. How had it happened?
“No, no, of course not. You deserve better than that. Someone who will love you more than anything, more than their work. Even when I was in love with Natalie, she never came first. But that’s just me.”
