Shawna sniffed one last time. His shirt was tearstained. “You’re right, you are nice.”
His mouth curved. They were making headway despite his bout with hoof-in-mouth disease. And that was good, because he wanted to see her. To be with her. “Does that mean you’ll come to Harmony’s party?”
She was tempted, but self-preservation was strong. “I—”
“Please.” He really wanted her to come. He thought it might help her get on with her life. There was something almost miraculous, watching his extended family at a gathering. Warmth was a definite by-product.
She relented. “All right.” If she resisted, they could be here all night and she was leery of where that might lead. She’d been with him only a short time and had already said more to him than she had to any other living soul. She didn’t want to expose any more of herself. “When?”
It took him a moment to remember. He envisioned the calendar in his kitchen, where he noted down everything that was a part of his life. “Next Saturday. Thomas is going all out and renting a pony.”
She thought Murphy had said that his niece was having her first birthday. “For a one-year-old?”
Thomas was conservative by nature. Unless it came to his family. Murphy grinned; a man could do worse than indulge that group. “Kimberly’s kids are old enough to enjoy riding around in a circle. So are some of the other kids who’ll be there.”
It sounded as if it was going to be rather a large crowd. Shawna didn’t do well in crowds. She never had. “I really don’t know—”
“Come,” he urged. He slipped his hand over hers. “As a friend. An old friend.”
For just a moment he was. “All right, I’ll come.”
But even as she said it, Shawna unconsciously nibbled on her lower lip, debating the wisdom of what she was agreeing to. In the past eighteen months she had withdrawn from social activities altogether. She didn’t entirely feel confident about taking this kind of plunge.
She looked so vulnerable. Murphy’s action was entirely automatic, just one human being offering comfort to another. He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips.
Shawna’s eyes widened. They looked at each other, their eyes scarcely two inches apart. The startled wonder was mirrored in turquoise and blue.
He’d felt something. Something small and needy, clawing to be freed. Whether it had been within him or her, he wasn’t certain. But it had been there.
And it was begging to be released.
Instincts as inbred and natural as breathing took hold. Murphy kissed her again.
She shouldn’t be allowing this to happen. There were ethics to think about. And things with far graver consequences than that.
Everything within her, all her emotions, all her feelings, had been sealed away with a tight lid over them. Murphy was threatening to pry it off.
More than threatening. Succeeding.
And she was afraid.
But, oh, it felt good, so wonderfully good to be held, to be wanted. To be kissed like this and swept beyond the realm of pain. Shawna twined her arms around his neck as Murphy’s kiss seeped into her soul.
Without thinking, Murphy deepened the kiss, surprised at the depth of feeling he encountered within her. Surprised and delighted, and just a little bit shaken, as well.
Because she swept him away.
He had meant to offer her a little solace and console her the best way he knew how. He hadn’t been prepared for the sudden bonfire that erupted before him. That erupted within him in kind.
Murphy could taste her tears on her lips, salty and dolorous. They stirred him, aroused him, made him want to soothe her and excite her all at the same time.
He dove his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer to him. His mind had gone spinning off into oblivion, but now the stick shift dug into his abdomen, reminding him just where he was.
Blowing out a breath, Murphy pulled back and took stock of what was happening here. Took stock of himself. All in all it was just as unnerving as the incident in the courtroom had been for him.
Maybe more.
He struggled for humor as he brushed his composure in place. “They were right.”
Shawna was so dazed she could barely focus on a thought. All she saw was him. It took her a second before she came to her senses. She shouldn’t be doing this.
“Who?” Letting out a ragged breath, she realized that her jacket was slightly askew, not to mention the rest of her. She could fix the jacket, but...
He couldn’t help himself. He tucked a loose hair behind her ear. Something flared in her eyes. Not anger—fear. It reminded him of something he might expect to see in a doe’s eyes as she was frightened away by the scent of man approaching.
“The people who said still waters run deep.” He smiled at her, trying to set her at ease. “I think I just got pulled in by the undertow.”
Her lips felt as if they were throbbing. She had to concentrate to keep from shaking. What had just happened here? She felt as if she had run a marathon. She struggled to gather her thoughts together. “Under the circumstances, perhaps—”
“I’d better go in,” he finished quickly before she could say anything further. He didn’t want her having second thoughts about the invitation she had just accepted. Murphy’s interest in Shawna had been ignited for a number of reasons, although he had to admit that the fire she’d lit beneath him just now had made the top of the list.
But it was more than that. How much more, he didn’t know. He wouldn’t find out if she shied away.
Murphy eased out of the car, then closed the door behind him. The tarnished handle felt loose under his hand. He crouched to look at her inside the car. “I’ll come by tomorrow to get the results of the test. Maybe we can go out to celebrate afterward.”
The test. She rallied, grateful for something to hide behind for a moment until she pulled herself together.
“Life is not one big, long party, Murphy.” She realized that she wasn’t referring to the possibility of his celebrating good news; she was chastising him for what had just happened. But it had been her fault as much as his.
A cryptic smile quirked his lips, playing with the corners of his mouth. “No, it’s not.” He guessed that they both knew that firsthand. “But we can enjoy ourselves once in a while.” He rose again. “See you tomorrow, Shawna.”
Shawna straightened her wheel as she slowly drove into the street. Her heart was hammering now like the kettledrums of an orchestra performing the 1812 Overture.
All right, Shawna, what was all that about?
She hadn’t the slightest clue. She just knew it scared her.
* * *
By the time Shawna reached her apartment complex, it was close to nine. Thoughts of bubble baths and books were shelved. All she wanted to do was go to bed and forget that the past couple of hours had even happened.
Fat chance.
She had no idea what had possessed her to talk to Murphy and even less why she had kissed him.
Yes, she did, she argued silently. Because he wasn’t just some empty-headed pretty boy or predatory womanizer. There had been something there, something kind that had drawn her words out of her. She’d seen genuine concern in his eyes when she’d told him about Doug and Bobby. Concern and sympathy.
In her present state it had completely undone her, unexpectedly cracking the protective shield she kept around her heart. By being kind, by listening, he had caused the dam to break open. And the tears to come.
He was probably going to be utterly impossible from now on, she thought with a sigh. She had taken a giant step and it was going to be hard to retrace it.
Who would have thought, twelve years ago, that she would ever have kissed Murphy Pendleton?
She pulled in to her parking space beneath the clay-tile- roofed carport and shut off the engine. Murphy Pendleton. Her mother would have been overjoyed if she had seen her.
Sally Rowen had always despaired about her wallflower, bookworm daughter. A sad
smile curved Shawna’s mouth. When her mother bothered to notice her at all.
It wasn’t a case of mean-spirited neglect on her mother’s part, Shawna thought as she got out of the car. It was that her mother had never really grown up herself. She could barely take responsibility for herself, much less someone else. Sally Rowen had no business becoming pregnant in the first place. She hadn’t the vaguest idea how to be a mother. All she really knew how to do was have a good time. Or look for one.
There was no sense in rehashing that now. She’d think about everything tomorrow. Her mother, Murphy, the kiss, everything.
Tonight, all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and not think about anything, least of all about the fact that for one frozen moment before Murphy’s door she had completely dissolved into a nonfunctioning organism. That was something that she—
Shawna stopped and stared, her breath hitching in her throat.
There was someone on her doorstep. Sitting on a suitcase, looking as if she was posing for a travelogue. She was a young-looking woman with hair the color of darkening flame, long, well-curved legs and a skirt that hadn’t exhausted the manufacturer’s supply of material by a long shot. There was another suitcase next to her. A large one. Shawna hurried over, though she was hardly aware of crossing the last few yards.
“Mother.”
Except for the hair color, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. They well could have been. Only fifteen years separated Shawna from her mother.
Sally Rowen uncrossed graceful legs and rose to stand beside her luggage. “Hello, baby. It’s about time you got in.” She looked behind her daughter, hoping there might be someone behind her. No such luck. “I gather from the fact that you’re alone that you’re just coming home from work now.”
There was absolutely no way she would tell her mother about Murphy or what had happened. “Something like that.”
Sally shook her head. Her hair brushed from cheek to cheek like a lover’s caress. “Oh, Shawna, where did I go wrong with you?”
Lots of ways, Mother. Lots of ways.
The next moment Shawna found herself in the midst of a quick, emotional embrace. After a beat, she returned it. She hadn’t seen her mother since the funeral. And before that it had been several years. Sally drifted in and out of her life like smoke, leaving only a faint telltale scent in her wake.
“God, that felt good.” Sally stepped back, her hands on Shawna’s shoulders. “Here, let me get a good look at you.” Sally cocked her head, studying her the way she did when she examined the integrity of an article of clothing she was thinking of purchasing. “You look tired.”
Shawna’s eyes swept over her mother. The smile was a little too tight, the makeup a little too heavy, hiding shadows beneath her eyes. Something was definitely up. “So do you.”
Sally dropped her hands and shrugged carelessly. A little too carelessly, in Shawna’s estimation. “It was a long flight.”
Shawna took out her key. “From which city was it this time?” Her mother logged more miles than a nomad.
“Chicago.” Sally shook her head as Shawna opened the front door. She swept into the apartment like a queen, leaving her luggage standing on the doorstep. “It doesn’t have a thing on San Francisco,” she announced loyally.
With a sigh, Shawna picked up the two suitcases and followed Sally in. She kicked the door closed with the heel of her shoe.
Her mother had always been partial to San Francisco. It had been only one of the many cities she had lived in as a child, Shawna remembered. By the time she began high school the number had been eight and counting. The three and a half years she had spent in Bedford was the longest period of time Shawna had remained anywhere until she’d gotten married. As always, the location was because of the man in her mother’s life. Sally had been married to Fred at the time. Or was that Steve? It was hard to keep track. Each time she was divorced, she reverted back to her maiden name. Otherwise, her signature would have been longer than she was tall.
Shawna assumed that a man was why her mother was here now. She braced herself for the gush of words. The man Sally Rowen was with at the moment was always the right man. The man she wanted to be with forever. Until it went sour.
Shawna placed the suitcases just inside the door. “So, what’s this big surprise you were talking about on the answering machine?”
“You’re looking at it.” Sally spread her hands dramatically, turning around. “Me. I’ve decided to come live with you. At least, until I get my own place.”
Oh, God. Keeping a tight rein on her composure, Shawna dropped her purse beside her mother’s suitcases. “I thought you were getting married again.”
So had she, Sally thought miserably. “Nope. I’m single, fancy-free and very happy to be that way.”
And where had she heard that before? Shawna stepped out of her shoes as she unbuttoned her jacket. Stripping it off, she draped it over the recliner. “You want to tell me about it?”
The brown eyes were wide with innocence. Shawna wasn’t buying into it for a moment. “It?”
“It,” Shawna repeated. “Whatever it was that made you pack up and leave.”
Sally moved around the room, trying it on for size. It was too small.
“Wanderlust.” She fingered the draperies. Expensive, she decided. “Awful word, you know.” The material slipped from her fingers. “Who has lust for wandering? For men, maybe, but wandering? Uh-uh.”
As Shawna watched, Sally turned in a complete circle. There wasn’t much to take in. “You live here, huh?”
Here it came, Shawna thought. Criticism. But she was too old to want her mother’s approval at this stage of her life. “No, my house is in the shop—this is a loaner. Yes, I live here.”
Sally frowned at the sofa. She knew that Shawna had a penchant for volunteering her services. “Aren’t you making any money at all?”
That was the second time tonight her salary had been questioned. Or more accurately, her tastes, she thought. “Yes, I find this suits all my needs.”
“If you say so.” It was obvious that Sally didn’t agree with her daughter’s assessment. “This was the kind of place I was always trying to get us out of.”
Yourself, Mother. You were always trying to get yourself out of those places. I was just an afterthought.
Shawna felt suddenly incredibly weary. She wished she’d had a little time to herself before her mother descended on her.
“Maybe that’s what I liked about it,” Shawna lied. “It brought back memories.”
She stood there for a moment, feeling ill at ease. She felt that way whenever her mother came to see her. And by the time she could get herself to relax, her mother would be on her way, off to follow another dream.
Or another man.
The problem was, Shawna suspected, their roles bled into one another. Her mother had always needed nurturing and Shawna had always provided it. She had never had the luxury of being a child. Her mother had that part sewed up.
Shawna looked at her now and thought that her mother looked a little lost, a little waiflike despite the glitter at her wrist and throat. Her mother collected men and jewelry, not always in that order. “Are you hungry?”
Sally started to say something, then stopped abruptly. “I’ve had dinner. Some tea might be nice.”
Shawna was too tired to go the whole ten rounds. She wanted to cut to the chase. “So, tell me, why are you here?” By the look on her mother’s face, she knew another glib response was coming. She aborted it. “Really.”
Sally’s smile drooped a little. “Am I that transparent?”
Because she looked so lost, Shawna placed her arm around her mother’s shoulders. “We’ve been there before, Mother.”
“Maybe I’m just having a bit of remorse for not being the perfect mother.” Sally had the good grace to flush slightly.
“Maybe.” Shawna paused, waiting. It didn’t take long.
Sally sighed. Her shoulders slumped as s
he gave up the act. “He left me.”
She’d been right. There was a man at the heart of this. There always was. “He?”
“Michael,” Sally said mournfully.
Michael. The last man had been someone called Carl. He’d come after the rock climber. This was a new one. “And he would be—?”
“My fiancé. Michael Rockford.” She saw that Shawna wanted more information. “The accountant.”
A working man for a change. But his vocation wasn’t the flamboyant type her mother usually gravitated toward. She was into risk takers. Daredevils. Charming bums. “An accountant? That sounds rather tame for you.”
Sally sank onto the sofa as if the air had suddenly been siphoned out of her. She’d been so sure that she had made the right choice this time.
“I know. I was finally going for stability.” She looked at her daughter. “I’m not getting any younger.” It was a difficult thing to admit, even to herself. Age was something she had always tried to outrun. For a while, she thought she had. “I want someone to grow old with.” Indignant tears shone in her eyes as she looked up at Shawna. “He told me I was too old for him.”
“You’ll always be young, Mother,” Shawna told her. Just how young a man had she set her sights on this time? “How old was Michael?”
“Thirty-eight.” Sally sniffed.
Shawna reached for a tissue from the dispenser and handed it to her mother. “I’m surprised you went after someone so old.”
Sally chuckled softly. She wiped her eyes, then raised her head. Renewed determination to straighten out her life glinted in her eyes.
“I told you, I was going for stability.” She balled up the tissue and tossed it aside on the coffee table. “That showed me.”
Shawna laughed and took her mother’s arm, ushering her from the sofa. Sally needed to unburden herself before she felt better. It was a familiar pattern they’d been following all their lives. And she was always the one who could put her mother’s pieces together.
“C’mon, I’ll brew us that tea and you can tell me all about it.”
Husband: Some Assembly Required Page 9
