The New Man

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “The monster plant,” Alec said wryly.

  His home office was more utilitarian and clearly masculine, with a big leather chair, a cherry-wood desk, and ranks of filing cabinets and bookcases. A laptop sat open on the desk, flanked by silver-framed photos of Linda and the children. On the wall hung black-and-white photos, which she noticed all featured the power of the wind. A grove of palm trees bent as if in obeisance; a cypress clinging to a cliff had been twisted by winter winds; on a city street, wind-whipped rain was driven sideways.

  The photos she left reluctantly, because she knew they were his choices. The rest of the house had probably been decorated by Linda. Helen hadn’t expected to feel such dismay at being surrounded by his wife’s unseen presence.

  The family room was done in earth tones, the brocade upholstery richly combining teal, rust and orange, the paintings on walls more exuberant, the woodwork stained with a walnut finish. A big-screen TV and stereo occupied an entertainment center that filled a wall. French doors led outside. When Alec flipped on the outside porch light, she saw a brick patio with cedar furniture and an arbor.

  “You have a beautiful home,” she said simply, facing him. “I can see why you didn’t want to give it up.”

  “Does it bother you that she lived here?”

  “Bother me?” She feigned surprise.

  He stepped closer. “It’s not Linda on my mind tonight.”

  Breathless, Helen raised her chin. “When I said that in the kitchen, you were thinking about her. I almost had the feeling you saw her.”

  He reached for her hand, his thumb idly tracing the fine bones on the back of her hand. “Oddly enough,” he said in a meditative voice, “it was the first time I’ve really studied the kitchen when I wasn’t thinking of her. I was wondering why I’ve been shying at shadows.”

  Helen searched his face. “Really?”

  “Really.” He lifted his other hand and cupped her cheek. “I can’t pretend I was never married, Helen. I hope you wouldn’t want me to.”

  “No,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t want you to.”

  “I know you’ve loved before. I hoped that doesn’t mean you can’t again.”

  Tears stung her eyes, unexpected and unwelcome. She swallowed. “I…don’t know.”

  A ghost of a smile flitted over his face. “That’s better than ‘I can’t, I won’t.’”

  He was teasing her.

  “Is that what I said?”

  “You must have been talking about something else.”

  “I suppose—” her voice sounded not at all like her own “—that depends on what you mean by ‘love.’”

  The pad of his thumb explored her lips. “What if we start with passion?”

  “I think,” Helen whispered, “I can feel passion again.”

  “Now? Tonight?”

  Her stomach quivered. “The coffee…”

  “Do you really want coffee?”

  She hesitated, shook her head.

  His eyes were dark, intent, as he slid his fingers into her hair. Her scalp prickled with the pleasure of the gentle pressure, and she moaned softly.

  He smiled. “You have the most glorious hair I’ve ever seen. Or touched. I’ve wanted to run my fingers through it since the first time I saw you.”

  “Mmm.” Eyes half-closed, she bent her head to let him stroke beneath her heavy fall of hair.

  “We could go to a hotel,” he murmured.

  Helen went still. “I didn’t think to ask whether it bothers you to have me here.”

  He neither flinched nor hesitated. “I wouldn’t have asked you if it did. I told you. I want you in my life. My home. My bed.”

  His bed. Which he had once shared with his wife. The idea shouldn’t bother her, but it did.

  “Would she resent me? In her place?”

  Alec’s hands dropped to his side. “No. Linda told me before she died that I should remarry. She wanted me to be happy again.”

  “But…her bed.” The scruple was probably absurd, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  “My bedroom is the one room I’ve redecorated since Linda died. On the first anniversary of her death, I bought a new bedroom suite, new rugs, painted the walls.” He shrugged. “I needed to make changes. Not to wake up every morning with everything exactly the same as it had always been, except that she wasn’t there. I moved some of our bedroom furniture into the guest room, in case one of the kids wants it someday.”

  “Oh.” Helen clasped her hands together. “I put my furniture in storage, except I sold the bed. It seemed…” She sought the right word. “Not tainted, that’s negative, but…imbued with Ben. You know.”

  Alec nodded. “Yeah. I do.” He paused, studying her face. “I haven’t asked you. How would Ben feel about me?”

  She didn’t have to think. “Oh, he’s probably rooting for you, wherever he is. Ben was a gentle, kind man, incapable of being mean or possessive.”

  Alec nodded but still didn’t touch her again.

  Voice rough, he asked, “Have we killed the mood here?”

  “I don’t know.” It was the shy Helen who answered, the woman who reacted, never led. What did he think? she was asking herself. Had he lost interest?

  Indignation at her own timidity gave her courage. “No,” she said firmly, “I think what we’ve done is cleared the air.”

  His eyes darkened. In a deliberate tone, he said, “I’ve wanted you since I turned the corner at the fair and saw this beautiful redhead hefting boxes out of the back of a pickup. I couldn’t think about anything else the rest of the day. I talked to other exhibitors, but the whole time I was calculating how long it would be until I could work my way back to your booth.” At last, he lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles along her jaw. “When I undressed for bed, my clothes smelled like your soap. I could hear your laugh, see the sadness in your face. And I worried about the wedding ring.” He reached for her hand and lifted it. When he saw that she had taken her rings off, he looked at her.

  “I thought it was time,” she said tremulously.

  Alec’s laugh was low and shaky. “Yeah. I thought the same.” He lifted his left hand to show her that it too was bare, only a paler circlet of skin left as a reminder.

  She lifted hers and laid it against his, palm to palm, in a sort of vow. From this day forward. Whatever happened, she would not put her rings back on. Symbols did matter.

  One moment they looked at each other, faces grave and searching, only their hands touching. The next he said something scratchy and urgent under his breath and snatched her into his arms. Longing made her dizzy, brought her to her tiptoes as she wrapped her arms around his neck and met his mouth with equal need.

  His tongue plunged into her mouth and his teeth grazed her lips. The kiss was stripped of pretence, of restraint, of thought. Knowing what they planned tonight had made the entire evening a dance of anticipation—a touch here, a glance there, shoulders brushing, eyes meeting. Helen had never been readier for anything in her life.

  She should have been shocked to sense her hands tugging his tie loose and heedlessly unbuttoning his shirt, but she wasn’t. She wanted to touch his bare chest. He cooperated, shrugging out of his jacket and shirt even as his mouth moved hotly down her neck and with his fingers found the zipper that began just above the small of her back.

  In seconds her dress was down to her waist and his hands cupped her breasts. Back arched, she gripped his bare shoulders, reveling in the powerful flex of muscle. She turned her head and saw their reflection in the French doors and for a moment marveled at the wanton image they made.

  Then she gasped and her fingers bit tighter. “The neighbors!”

  He lifted his head, eyes molten with hunger. “What?”

  “The windows.”

  Alec swore. “The yard is fenced, but, oh, damn.” He gritted his teeth. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  She ought to care more that they might have shocked staid neighbors, but instead gave a throaty laugh. “
Talk about an eyeful.”

  His grin, rakish and sexy, showed a flash of white teeth. “But we haven’t gotten to the interesting part yet.”

  Despite herself, her gaze dipped to the bulge below his belt. Then she blushed, and he laughed.

  They paused to kiss twice on the stairs, once on the landing where an octagonal window framed a crescent moon and once a few steps from the top, where Alec apparently lost patience. Helen’s strappy sandals were gone, and her bare toes curled into the stair runner. They both forgot where they were until they teetered and he swore again and had to grab her to save them both from falling.

  Laughing like teenagers, they made their way down the hall, bumping walls, pausing once for him to back her up to a door and kiss her deeply, his hips crowding hers. He lifted her finally and carried her into his bedroom, laying her on the bed and following her down, his knee planted between her thighs.

  Alec repeated how beautiful she was as he peeled her dress over her hips and down her legs, leaving her in a scrap of ivory panties. He kissed his way back up her legs, nipping at the inside of her thighs, nuzzling the band of her panties, tasting the soft skin of her belly. By the time he reached her breasts, she felt cloudy, all need.

  He teased her nipples and then suckled each, even as his hands stroked and taunted. Helen whimpered, and then pushed him back. “Your turn.”

  He knelt as she unbuckled his slacks and unzipped them very, very slowly, her fingers grazing his length as she paid him back in kind. His face was taut, ripples of reaction running through him. Finally she pulled his pants and boxer shorts down together, freeing him.

  Helen was inexperienced enough to feel heat rise to her cheeks at the sight of a fully aroused, naked man, but she explored with gentle fingers nonetheless. He was the one to groan now, and finally to shuck his shoes, socks and trousers and ride her down onto the bed, his mouth on hers, desperate, damp, urgent.

  He had bought protection, although she could tell from his clumsiness that he wasn’t used to wearing condoms. She helped him, slowing them still more.

  Alec breathed erotic words about need and sex and maybe love, she wasn’t sure, as he entered her. Helen’s body stiffened for an instant—it had been such a long time—before pleasure rippled through her. They didn’t last, either of them, not this time. She arched and cried out first, and Alec an instant later.

  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes when he rolled to his side and pressed a tender kiss to her damp forehead, tucking her against his side.

  Alec had made her feel things she had almost forgotten, and she knew he could make her feel more. So much more.

  If she dared let herself love him, and trust an uncertain future.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “MOMMY! WATCH OUT! You’re going to fall down!”

  Teetering on in-line skates, Helen flapped her arms like a crow, let her ankles turn and toppled over onto the grass beside the paved path.

  Alec watched in amusement as her daughter helped her up and said sternly, “Mom, you’ve got to balance.”

  “No kidding,” she grumbled. “I never guessed.”

  Lily and Ginny both giggled. They were taking great delight in being much better at something than an adult was. Especially a mom.

  The day was sunny after a week of clouds and rain, too nice to waste indoors. Helen had called that morning and said, “Want to do something with the kids?”

  “If you don’t mind me dragging my sullen son along. This is our day for family outings, and I’m making him go.”

  “He may sulk to his heart’s content,” she had said cheerily.

  They were not alone at Green Lake, one of the many lakes in the heart of the city. A paved trail for walkers, bikers, baby strollers and skaters circled it. A park at one end offered a swimming beach patrolled by lifeguards, tennis courts and an indoor swimming pool. Woodland Park Zoo was just up the hill. Shops, bakeries and cafés, including a second Spud’s Fish & Chips, were within a block.

  Today Alec could hardly see the grass, so many families had spread blankets on it to picnic and sunbathe. Even halfway around the lake, he could hear the shrieks of kids in the water. Joggers trotted past and cyclists whizzed by.

  Helen, however, was making about a quarter of a mile an hour. Her daughter was right—she apparently lacked balance.

  “I’m going to be covered with bruises,” she muttered, wavering on her feet again.

  “On your butt.” Ginny exploded in gales of laughter.

  Predictably, Devlin had skated well ahead. Now he came back and executed a perfect stop. Lip curling, he said, “She fell down again?”

  Alec’s jaw clenched. He was going to develop TMJ if his charming son didn’t outgrow this nasty phase in a hurry. Before he could remonstrate, however, Helen gave Devlin a dirty look and snapped, “If you want me to go faster, why don’t you offer some advice instead of telling me I don’t have very good balance, like the rest of your family?”

  Startled, he actually answered her directly. “Well, you don’t…”

  She cleared her throat meaningfully.

  “Uh.” He frowned and studied her. “Your ankles are the problem, I think. They’re flopping.”

  Contemplating her legs was no hardship, even if they were currently knock-kneed. To stay upright, she had them splayed like a newborn colt’s. But, damn, she had good legs—long, slim, and taut with muscle in the right places. Remembering what they felt like wrapped around his waist was part of the pleasure for Alec.

  “Flopping?” She looked down at her feet and almost went over.

  Devlin grabbed her just in time.

  She clutched his arm. “Damn! I mean, darn. I don’t know why I’m so terrible! I roller-skated when I was a kid! This isn’t that different.”

  “Some people,” Alec said kindly, “don’t have strong ankles.”

  Helen and Devlin both gave him dirty looks this time.

  “Girls,” Alec suggested, “can you move to the edge of the path? We’re in the way.”

  An elderly couple riding sedately on a bicycle built for two offered grateful smiles and a “Good day!” as they passed.

  “Maybe you should all go ahead.” Helen made a face. “I could totter back while you guys zip ’round the lake.”

  “We’re not going to desert you,” Alec said firmly.

  “See,” Devlin said, “just think about your ankles and nothing else. Can you make them stiff? Like, pretend you have casts on both feet?”

  “Casts.” Still holding his arm, she went stiff all over.

  “Uh, you don’t have to have a body cast. Just on your ankles.”

  She frowned in fierce concentration. “Just ankles.”

  A pair of twenty-somethings in peak physical condition swept by on in-line skates, arms pumping. Helen rocked as if their wake had struck her.

  Astonishingly, Devlin didn’t pull away.

  “Stiff ankles,” he repeated.

  Helen’s legs straightened, and she released her death grip on the teenager’s arm. Resolutely she moved one foot, then the other, in a choppy stride that was only a distant cousin to the glide of a practiced blader.

  “Hey, that’s good!” Devlin said from behind her.

  Ginny clapped.

  Grinning in triumph, Helen picked up speed. Alec winced, knowing what was coming. Her legs began to bend like pretzels, her feet tangled—then Devlin grabbed her, holding her upright.

  “Ankles. You forgot your ankles.”

  Gasping, Helen rearranged her feet and straightened. “Ankles.”

  What had gotten into his son?

  Devlin had started the day sullen—as usual. He didn’t want to come. He had to mow Mrs. Gregorski’s lawn. He’d promised Curt he’d hang out later. It wasn’t a family outing if Dad’s girlfriend—said in a snotty tone—was coming.

  “Last week,” Alec had said, “I let you choose what we did.” They had gone to the Experimental Music Project, an unusual museum that celebrated contemporary music. �
��This weekend it’s my turn.”

  That wasn’t the end of it, of course. They’d had a staring contest, Alec striving for an expression of calm certainty. Devlin looked away first, and he grumbled all the way to the car. When they’d picked up Ginny and Helen, he mumbled something that might have been a hello and spent the remainder of the ride staring out the window. The minute he’d put on his skates, he’d struck off ahead. A couple of times he’d come back to sneer at Helen’s ineptitude, taunt his sister for being slow and generally make himself loved.

  Maybe he was just impatient to get the circuit of the lake over with, so he could go home. Could be he’d decided they would never make it if he didn’t intervene.

  Or had he actually taken pity on Helen? Alec hid a grin, even though he was behind the two. If ever anyone deserved pity, it was Helen today.

  Heck, maybe she just offended Devlin’s athletic sensibilities, and he felt compelled to “improve” her. He had coached youth basketball for a couple of seasons.

  “Hey, girls!” Alec called. “Race ya?”

  “Yeah!” Lily grinned. “Dad’s not that good,” she told Ginny, not quite sotto voce.

  Helen stuck out her tongue at him when he stroked by her. “Leave me in the dust, why don’t you?”

  “Looks like you’re getting the hang of it,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Yeah.” She still wore that frown of concentration. “Yeah, I think I am!”

  “Ankles,” his son warned when she wobbled.

  She made a frustrated sound. “Every time I think about anything else…!”

  “Then don’t,” Dev said succinctly.

  Alec didn’t see how she responded to that. He was lengthening his stride to overtake the two girls, who were zipping in and out of other traffic, their skinny legs pumping.