That Was Yesterday

by Vella Munn

  “Mara? What’s wrong?”

  You. You’re what’s wrong, and what’s right, with me. “I’m just tired.”

  “Lean against me,” he whispered, his breath taking over where his lips had been. “Try to sleep.”

  Sleep? With Reed touching her? “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You can if you listen to your body. You’ve been walking for hours, breathing in salt air, fighting the wind. Give your muscles the opportunity to unwind.”

  “How do you know that’s what they need?”

  “I’ve been walking over the same sand, breathing in the same air. And I probably got more sleep than you did. You’re just lucky I decided to give you a neck rub instead of the other way around.”

  “You’d do that?” Mara asked teasingly. To her surprise, she felt her body begin to grow slack. “You’d make me do all the work?”

  “If I thought I could get away with it.” Reed’s voice slowed. Either that, or the whole world had shifted down to first gear. “No. Not really,” he said, his breath touching her. “This is something I want to do for you. Something you need.” He ran his thumbs over the top of her spinal column, the sensation somehow spreading throughout her body.

  “I could— This is something I could grow very accustomed to.”

  “Good. You deserve to be pampered.” Reed rotated his thumbs outward, erasing tension as he went. “And I deserve to be the one doing it for you.”

  “Deserve? That’s how you…”

  “Yes,” Reed went on when she couldn’t think of what she’d been going to say. “That’s the way I see it.”

  Chapter Ten

  An hour later Reed was still sitting while Mara, asleep, nestled against him. He’d been aware of a warm breeze and salt air and distant, indistinguishable sounds, but those were in the background.

  Mara represented reality. And an incredibly hard battle.

  Reed touched his lips to her temple, then slid away from her. The cabin came equipped with a telephone, but he had no intention of making contact with the outside world. If he thought Jack could help him deal with wanting to make love to Mara and knowing they weren’t ready for that, he would have called his old friend. But this wasn’t something Jack or anyone else could help him with.

  After tucking a pillow under Mara’s head, Reed stepped onto the deck so he could watch the sun set. The distant sound of voices reached him, but this stretch of beach was almost deserted. The hot colors cast by the setting sun reminded him of the evening he’d taught her to use a gun, and made him pensive.

  She was an incredible woman.

  Mara, brave and competent and utterly unlike the woman who’d raised him, had taken steps to put her attack behind her.

  She’d moved back into her home. That act itself served as his yardstick. She trusted her surroundings. Surely he could do the same. But there was still a criminal on the loose. Every time he thought about her—which seemed to be all the time—Reed slammed up against that reality. True, Mara had learned how to use a gun and now kept it close to her. She had drawn back the first time he’d touched her. But for her, that was yesterday.

  He was the one who’d jumped to the worst possible conclusion when he’d heard that the police had come across an agitated watchdog. He’d called her, demanding what? He’d wound up bringing her here for the weekend, and then risking this fragile thing they’d begun by letting his physical need for her threaten to take over.

  He should go for a cold swim. A long one.

  “Reed? I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was going to pass out like that.”

  Without turning from the fading day, Reed reached back for her hand. She came willingly and stood next to him. “That’s all right,” he said, thinking that he should be halfway to Hawaii instead of holding her hand. “I was watching. Thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “You,” he said and faced her.

  “What kind of thoughts?”

  “Complicated ones.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I knew, they wouldn’t be complicated.” He had to stop talking like this. Otherwise, everything might pour out of him. “Are you hungry?”

  Mara leaned her head against his shoulder, her sleep-warmed body reminding him yet again of why he’d left her on the couch. “After all that tomato soup? Maybe a little later. Did you want to do anything?”

  It was a loaded question, one Reed had no intention of touching. “Do you think there are any islands for sale?” He pretended to scan the horizon. “The idea of living where I could see the ocean no matter where I turned…”

  Mara’s laugh was a breeze touching nerves already too alive. “You keep changing your mind,” she chided him. “You don’t know where you want to settle, do you?”

  No. That’s the hell of it. “I’m keeping my options open,” he told her. “One of us would have to become a pilot. Otherwise we wouldn’t have any way to get to the island.”

  “We? I don’t remember my name being on the deed.”

  When she shifted her weight and brought her leg too close to his, Reed decided it was time he changed the subject. It would be dark in a few minutes. He suggested they either start dinner or go down to the beach. Mara wanted to walk.

  They didn’t go far this time. Muted sounds still came from others out there somewhere, but within a few minutes of stepping into the surf, they were surrounded by enough shadows that the sounds didn’t matter. Mara held Reed’s hand and buried her bare feet in the sand. She felt foam bubbling around her ankles. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted it to be night.

  Reed had wanted to spend the weekend with her. Despite his commitment to a man named Jack, he’d planned this time for them. He’d said it was so they could get to know each other, and she’d agreed. Only, friendship didn’t have enough to do with why she needed to be out here with him, the ocean chilling her legs. Hopefully chilling more than that. “This island of yours? You promise no typhoons?”

  “Absolutely.” Reed drew her farther into the water until it boiled around their thighs. “And no property taxes. That’s the way it is with islands.”

  “I get to be the pilot. I’ve always wanted to fly.”

  “Have you? If you fly the way you drive—”

  “You’ve never seen me drive, not really.”

  Reed gave her a not quite lazy, not quite teasing look. “I’ve been thinking about that. You know what I’ve concluded? You aren’t racing with your family because you’re too much of a menace. You’ve probably been banned from every track in the country.”

  “What do you know? You’re the one with the speeding tickets.”

  “Probably because you bribe cops.”

  “What?” Mara jerked on Reed’s hand, turning him toward her. She loved the glint of amusement in his eyes. “How dare you!”

  “What’s the matter?” he taunted. “Can’t you handle the truth?”

  Teeth bared in mock rage, Mara leaned into Reed as if to push him into the ocean. When he resisted, she catapulted herself at him. Reed staggered and gave way. He landed first, hips and shoulders digging into wet sand. As she collapsed on top of him, Mara felt cold water and flesh, hard bones and firm muscle beneath her. A wave washed over them; sand rubbed at her skin. “How dare you!” she repeated. “I happen to be the greatest driver in the world.”

  “The greatest? Don’t make me laugh.” Reed waited until the wave retreated and then surged to his feet. Before Mara could do more than scramble to her knees, he planted his hands on her shoulders, holding her down so that the next wave covered her to her neck. “Mediocre, maybe. No better than marginal.”

  “What? Let me up!” Mara scrambled out from under Reed’s grip, but before she found her footing, another wave caught her. This time she floated, her legs trailing against his.

  As the wave began to retreat, Reed reached down and grabbed her around the waist. He was off balance. If she wanted to try, she might be able to upend him again and defuse
the charged moment.

  Instead, with her hair streaming into her eyes, Mara reached for him.

  Fire. Water and sand had become fire. In a moment, a breath, a heartbeat, everything became electric. The flames were fanned by Reed’s breath. Reed’s touch. The heat settled so deep inside her that Mara could only guess at its core. As long as she remained in his arms, she would be on fire.

  No part of her wanted anything different.

  Mara leaned forward to taste the salt on Reed’s chest. His groan spurred her on. Now she stood with her legs spread against the waves and touched her tongue first to one nipple and then the other. He pulled her close, imprisoning her. For an instant Mara acknowledged fear.

  But this wasn’t an angry man with a grating voice. Reed held her. Reed with a courage she was determined to match and a commitment that made every day, every moment they spent together precious.

  The waves continued to play with her ankles, legs and hips, separating her from the world. Mara shut her mind and heart to everything except the promise in Reed’s kiss. The challenge in his touch.

  Reed pushed aside fabric and touched the swell of her breasts with cool, wet fingers. The slight friction caused by sand-dusted flesh made Mara forget the surging water. “If you don’t want this,” he whispered, “tell me.”

  “I want.”

  “You’re sure? Last night—”

  Mara wrapped her arms around Reed and drew him to her, savoring the taste of salty lips. She shivered, regretting what she’d done. He could still hold her and warm her, but her breasts were no longer accessible to him. “I can’t believe we’re here,” she whispered. “That we’re actually—”

  “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

  “It’s all right. Reed, it’s all right.”

  “I hope.” She felt the quick warmth of his breath on her face and stood on tiptoe, savoring him. Standing in the cool, foaming surf she could be reckless and bold. She could part her lips and allow him access. She could—

  He still held her against his strength. His legs, like hers, were parted against the pull of the ocean. Mara absorbed the powerful give and take, but where the sea gave up and her need for Reed took over she couldn’t say. She felt an ageless rhythm and knew it came from within her.

  She wanted to stand here forever, holding, swaying, being tempted by dark wetness. Ignoring the cold.

  “Not here,” Reed whispered. “We can’t stay here.”

  Mara might have argued except that he was right. He’d known she needed to be with him this weekend, that she had needed her own room last night. Now he’d known that it was time to leave the water and return to the cabin. “Someone might see?”

  “You’re going to freeze. Take my hand.”

  He expected her to walk. How could she do that when she felt as if she was both capable of flying and just learning to crawl? Still, Mara stumbled after Reed as he led her out of the water. Now the breeze on her wet, naked legs and arms made a chilling impact. Her numb toes dug into the path that led up to the house.

  “I didn’t plan that. What happened in the water, I don’t know if it was right,” Reed told her as they stood on the patio and slapped at the sand that clung to them.

  Mara found her voice. “I don’t, either.”

  “Are you sorry?”

  Mara had no way of answering him. It hadn’t been said. Neither of them had spoken the words. And yet she knew he was thinking about exchanging their separate bedrooms for one. She had only to feel him next to her to think the same thing. Making love with Reed would be an act of supreme trust. To share her body with him meant giving up her independence and, even more important, her privacy.

  The consequences both thrilled and terrified her.

  “I don’t know,” she told him. “I’m scared.”

  Reed eased her inside and shut the door behind them. “Of me?”

  “Maybe I’m afraid of me.” Saying the words took a great deal out of her. Mara slid onto the couch and let her head fall back. She was still aroused and that made thinking nearly impossible. She spoke slowly, feeling her way. “I wanted to be with you. When you told me about this place, all I could think was that we’d be together. But, Reed, I didn’t want any pressure to—”

  Reed touched her shoulder, roughened fingertips catching against damp, cool, sensitive flesh. She jumped and tried not to let it show. “Do you feel as if I’m pressuring you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” No. That wasn’t enough of an answer. She had to speak; he had to hear. “I don’t feel that kind of pressure. If I said no, you’d respect that. And if I said yes…”

  “But?”

  Did she really want to tell him this? Could she not? “Reed, there’s something… You’re part of my life, and yet you’re not. No. Don’t shake your head. You know I’m right. What you’re doing—if something happened to you, it might be days, weeks before I found out. There’s so much you can’t share with me.” So much I haven’t shared with you.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  Mara whispered. “Nothing. Reed, you believe in what you’re doing. I think I understand why. I’m trying to. If I asked you not to do it, it would be like asking my father to give up his love affair with speed. I’d never do that.”

  “But—“

  “But I’m not sure I’m ready to be part of what little you can share.”

  Reed looked as if she’d slapped him. “This isn’t enough?”

  “No. It isn’t,” she told him, wondering at her wisdom, or if there was anything wise about what she was saying. “If we became lovers…anything like that, and then… Don’t you see?”

  “Maybe.”

  For a long time Reed did nothing except hold her. Slowly she stopped shivering. She told herself she couldn’t possibly want him as much as she did. It was a dream. When he finally spoke, Mara held on to his every word. “You’re strong,” he said. “Stronger than I wish you were.”

  No, I’m not. Don’t call me that. “Reed, I don’t know what I’m saying. What I feel around you. What we’re doing now, this weekend, I need it.”

  “But you’re saying maybe this is as far as it should go?”

  Mara tried to take a calming breath. It came out a shudder. “Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

  They didn’t leave the beach house until late on Sunday. They spent hours walking, talking, looking through a newspaper for unoccupied islands and million-dollar beach homes, sharing dreams, being together. To the outside world, they knew they must look like friends, but Mara knew they were more than that. Friends didn’t sit together on the same couch talking about islands and scarred knees while energy hummed and arced between them.

  Mara remembered little of the drive home except that Reed didn’t turn on the car stereo and spoke only when she did, which was seldom. As soon as he dropped her off, he would head back to the city. That alien world of his would reclaim him. She couldn’t follow him. She didn’t know when she’d see him again. Or, if she would.

  “I wish there was another way,” he told her after he’d checked her house and garage and asked her to show him that the gun was within reach on her nightstand.

  “There isn’t.”

  “No. I don’t suppose there is.” Sighing, Reed cupped Mara’s shoulders, holding her against him. “Thank you. For…instant coffee and tomato soup. Mara, you can call me. Remember that. You can call.”

  “What if you aren’t there?”

  “If I’m not— Look, no matter what, I’ll stay in touch.”

  In touch? She knew she should tell him she didn’t want to see him again, that her own life was all she could handle. Only a crazy woman would let herself care about a man who had to watch his every step, weigh each word. Who disappeared into an Alice in Wonderland world.

  “I’ll leave the answering machine on. Be careful.” Don’t get yourself killed. “Please.”

  “I will.”

  Silent, Reed dipped his head, asking permission. The “c
razy woman” she’d become met him halfway.

  A minute later she stood at the door to her home and watched Reed drive away. Then Mara stepped back, called Lobo to her, and locked the door, closing the two of them inside.

  When she could no longer hear Reed’s car, she snapped on the TV. Maybe Reed would be turning on the car stereo, like her, needing to escape the silence of thoughts. But he wouldn’t cry. Oh no, Reed wouldn’t cry.

  Mara woke before the alarm went off, the tension that had driven her from racetracks dominating her. The feeling lasted until the shower took her away from the night. She and Reed would be together again as soon as he could arrange it. He’d promised. In the meantime she would be strong.

  The vow lasted until Clint showed up for work. He looked at her more frequently than usual but said nothing until the lunch break. “You’re looking calm,” he said. “A lot calmer than I thought you would.”

  “Calm?”

  “You read Sunday’s paper, didn’t you?”

  The newspaper had been the last thing on Mara’s mind. “What did I miss?”

  Clint looked like a man who’d just opened Pandora’s box. “There was another attack.”

  Mara took a deep breath. “It’s a big city, Clint. There are attacks all the time.”

  “Not to women leaving grocery stores.” Clint took her arm, forcing Mara to face him. “Believe me, I tried to tell myself the same thing. But I called that detective. He said it sounds like the same man.”

  “It does?” Her voice sounded thin. “Why didn’t Kline call me? He could have left a message.”

  “Haven’t you heard? The victim is always the last to know. How was your weekend?”

  The weekend seemed a hundred years ago. “What else did Kline say?”

  “Not much. The woman was grabbed early Sunday morning. She’s a nurse. She’d just gotten off work and was doing her shopping at one of those places that stays open twenty-four hours.”

  “Is she—” Mara stared up at Clint. She couldn’t form the words.

  Clint ran his hands over Mara’s shoulder. The touch felt nothing like Reed’s, but it helped. It reminded her she wasn’t alone. “She’s alive. She wasn’t as lucky as you.”