When Lightning Strikes Twice

by Barbara Boswell

“I’m here to visit Tim,” he replied belligerently. “My best friend. Any objections?”

  “Why did you come today?” Her question sounded more like an accusation.

  “Because I wanted to see Tim and Lisa and the kids.” Wade was really frosted now. “Why did you come today?”

  Their eyes met. And widened with dawning horror at the same moment.

  “Did you come to talk to Tim about what happened yesterday?” they both chorused the same words at the same time.

  “No!” they both issued the same denial.

  Their gazes held. Dana took a deep breath and her lips parted. Wade gulped, dragging his eyes away from the sight of her slightly open mouth, tempted beyond reason to put his tongue or his fingers or some other part of himself in it, just so he could satisfy his raging need to be inside her in some way, in any way.

  He sank into the chair she had just vacated and covered his lap with his dark blue windbreaker to conceal the incriminating evidence of his unwelcome lust. “Dana,” he began shakily.

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

  “Why not? It’s your name, isn’t it?”

  “One that you’ve never used. Don’t start now.”

  Dana turned away from him to stare at the unrelenting rain that was battering the pretty spring flowers into the ground, making everything look dark and dreary and dismal.

  Which exactly mirrored her mood.

  After she’d cried herself to sleep last night—she, who’d never cried over a man in her life, whose last fit of inconsolable weeping had been years ago, and appropriately at the funeral of dear old Grandpa Sheely—Dana had awakened this morning and firmly resolved to put the unfortunate incident with Wade Saxon behind her and never to think about it again.

  She had successfully kept her vow during today’s sojourn in Sagertown while interviewing Ken and Marcia Polk, a plethora of doctors, and photocopying medical reports. Unfortunately, all the driving time alone in the car gave her way too much time to think. To brood. To ache with pain over Wade Saxon’s utter and absolute rejection of her.

  The prospect of returning to Lakeview and her bedroom, where the most hurtful and humiliating repudiation of her life had taken place, had been too awful to consider. She’d decided to drive farther north and pay a surprise visit to her brother and his family, and then phoned home with her plan. Katie promised to pass along the word to their parents.

  Too bad she hadn’t also called Tim and Lisa to share the news of her visit.

  “They’re not home,” Dana said flatly, looking out at the rain. If it kept up, this street would be more like a canal than a road. Already the water was covering the paved surface and beginning to spill onto the slightly raised sidewalks.

  “What?”

  Dana darted a glance at Wade to find him staring at her so intently, so strangely, that she was instantly self-conscious. “Tim and Lisa aren’t home,” she clarified, and nervously smoothed the pleats of her gray skirt.

  After the long hours at the Sagertown hospital, not to mention all the driving, she knew she must look like a rumpled frump. Which normally wouldn’t have bothered her, not around Wade, who’d seen her sweaty from exercising and dirty from rollerblade falls and a windblown, salty mess at the shore.

  Except she hadn’t been one of his cast-off rejectees then, and now she was. Now it hurt that he looked at her and saw a woman he didn’t want.

  “They’re not here?” Wade heaved a groan. “Are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t be out on the porch in the rain unless I was sure they weren’t here.”

  They listened to the rain, watched the water lapping the sidewalk. “Maybe they’ll be back soon,” Wade offered hopefully.

  Dana promptly dashed that hope. “No, they’re gone for the whole weekend. When no one answered the door here, I went to the neighbor’s across the street because I know she has a key to take in the mail and feed the fish when Tim and Lisa are away. She told me they took the kids and went with two other families to spend the weekend in Mystic.”

  Wade brightened. “If she has the key—”

  “She gave me the key in case I wanted to stay in the house tonight, but I hadn’t decided if I wanted to or not.” Dana removed the house key from the pocket of her gray suit jacket. “I just got here about ten minutes before you did, and I was still thinking what to do.”

  She fingered the key another second. “Now I’ve decided—I’m not going to stay. I’ll drive home tonight.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Look at the street, it’s already a swamp, and the ones closer to the ocean will be even worse.” Wade rose to his feet to deliver his argument, just like in court. “Driving back in this rain would be suicidal. It was bad enough getting here, and I heard on the radio that the storm is socked in over New York and New Jersey now.”

  “I’ve driven in the rain before, Wade,” she said snottily.

  He didn’t miss the contemptuous inflection she gave his name; “shitbird” could’ve been substituted and been perfectly in context. And the look she gave him was icy enough to freeze fire.

  God, she hated him now! Wade balled his fingers into fists as fury and despair washed over him in alternative waves.

  “Just what in the hell is going on with you, Dana?” he demanded, giving her name the same treatment she’d accorded his. “If you’re having an affair with Cormack, and you—”

  “An affair?” She was too astounded to mask her incredulity. “With Quint? Me?”

  Wade’s eyes narrowed. He knew her well enough to know if she were lying or completely baffled. Her response fell directly into the latter category. “So you’re not.”

  Too late, Dana wished she’d grabbed his misapprehension and gone with it. But she knew it wouldn’t work now. “No, I’m not. Not that it would be any of your business if I were,” she added coldly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll return this key to Mrs. Madison and—”

  “You’re not driving back to Lake view tonight, Dana. It’s almost six o’clock and the rain—”

  “I know what time it is, I know it’s raining, and you’re not going to tell me what to do, Saxon!” Her temper flared to flashpoint. “If you’re afraid to drive in a little rain, okay, take the key and you stay here tonight.”

  She tossed the key at him. He caught it, disappointing her. It would’ve been infinitely more satisfying to watch him groping on the ground for it, preferably on his hands and knees.

  Dana started to leave the porch for her car, striding purposefully but not at breakneck speed. Her pumps with their three-inch heels—on assignment, she found the additional height a useful advantage—did not allow for the quick pace of sneakers.

  She was stunned when Wade’s hand snaked out to grasp her arm. She hadn’t been expecting any interference from him or she would’ve made a run for it, high heels and all.

  “Look, you’ve voiced your concern. Consider it duly noted,” she said crossly. “So you’re off the hook if I crash or drown on the drive home. You can honestly say you tried to warn me, but I refused to listen to Wise, Wonderful You. It’ll play very well with my family.”

  She pulled her arm free and attempted to continue her exit.

  When Wade caught her around the waist with both hands just as she was about to step off the porch, Dana realized that she’d made a major miscalculation.

  “I gave you the key, what are you—”

  “Shut up!” he roared.

  Dana gaped at him. She’d never seen him so angry, and the spectacle flummoxed her. Wade Saxon didn’t get enraged—he got testy or irritable or annoyed but never wildly, emotionally furious like the Sheelys.

  She and Tim and Mary Jo and Tricia had occasionally discussed Wade’s temperament and decided he didn’t have it in him to blow up the way the Sheelys sometimes did. They had their flaming Irish tempers while he possessed the cool, ironic detachment of a WASP. After all, his surname was Saxon, as Tim had pointed out. How much more White-Anglo-Protestant could you get?
<
br />   Except Wade didn’t seem at all cool or ironic or detached right now, he was as explosive as any Sheely had ever been. Dana gulped.

  He lifted her off her feet and didn’t set her down until he had placed her against the front door. When she tried to get away from him—which she did, quite frantically—he used his body to anchor her there while he shoved the key into the lock.

  Pushing the door open, and her along with it, Wade and Dana stumbled inside the empty house.

  12

  Wade slammed the door so hard that Lisa’s collection of lighthouse miniatures rattled on the shelves.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Dana gasped, a little anxiously because right now it seemed like a very legitimate question.

  “No! Although this must be what it feels like!”

  Dana almost smiled. Almost. Then she reminded herself that this was not her good buddy Wade who made her laugh, but the arrogant creep who’d started to make love to her last night and then decided she didn’t meet his amatory requirements. Now she could add physical bullying to the list of offenses she was compiling against him. No, he was not her friend now, and he wouldn’t be, not ever again.

  Wade watched the range of expressions cross her face. She’d nearly smiled at him, looking so much like herself that he missed her painfully though she was standing right there in front of him. Because the look of loathing was back on her face within moments, turning her warm blue eyes to stone.

  “Why, Dana? I want to know why you’re looking at me like you can’t stand to be in the same room with me.”

  “Because I don’t want to be in the same room with you, Saxon.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. “Especially not this room. I want to be in my car driving home and you’re standing in my way. Naturally, I don’t look very pleased.”

  Wade frowned. He was too angry to think clearly and she was exhibiting the equivocal arguing skills of an attorney, changing the focus slightly to readjust the debate to something else. Damn, she’d been around Cormack too long!

  “That’s not the issue,” he insisted, trying to get their derailed argument back on track.

  “It certainly is,” retorted Dana. “I don’t want to stay here, but I’m sure Tim and Lisa won’t mind if you do.” She started toward the door, which he immediately blocked by placing himself directly and immovably in front of it.

  “Get out of my way,” she ordered, sounding more forceful than she felt.

  She took in the way his jeans and dark green cotton polo shirt hugged his trim, muscular body. Even with her additional inches of height, she had to look way up to meet his eyes. Dana knew she wasn’t going anywhere unless he allowed it. He’d already proven that she was no match for his strength when he chose to exert it. Resentment flared through her, enhancing her anger like a rocket-stage booster.

  “Answer my question!” Wade took a step toward her, then another, until they were practically standing toe-to-toe. He could feel the heat of her rage emanating in waves from her, and it banked the fires of his own fury.

  Which was actually a good thing because she was so close he could smell the shampoo-clean scent of her hair. That, and the subtle spicy aroma of her perfume drew forth potent memories of lying on the bed with her last night, of holding her, kissing her.

  He wanted to do that now and much, much more. Since he knew she wouldn’t let him, he’d damn well better stay mad. It was as good a distancing device as any.

  “What’s going on, Dana?” he reiterated sharply.

  Dana shook her head in disgust. “You know that book, Men Are From Mars and Women Are From Venus? Well, you’re from Pluto.”

  “If anyone has a right to be ticked off about last night, it’s me, Sheely.”

  Wade ignored her pop-psych reference, which he knew she had made to annoy him even more. She was fully aware of how much he hated the entire genre of so-called self-help books, which he never read and everybody else seemed to quote endlessly.

  “Did I say Pluto? I meant Uranus.” She used the pronunciation that always drew snickers in junior-high science classes.

  He got her point. And set out to make his. “You kicked me out of your room and out of your house, you couldn’t get rid of me fast enough last night. You acted like I was some kind of contagious spore.”

  Dana was incredulous. “You believe that I would want you around, that I should want you around after—after—” She couldn’t finish. Bad enough he’d rejected her, she wasn’t about to put it into words for him.

  Which left plenty of room for misinterpretation.

  Wade did exactly that. “After I kissed you?” he interjected. His eyes glittered. “Ahh no, I see where you’re going with this and I’m not going to let you do it. You’re not putting this all on me, Sheely. You wanted me to kiss you. You wanted me to—”

  “Get out of my brother’s house!” Was he daring to claim that his rejection of her was her own fault? She was aghast at his breathtaking insensitivity. “Give me the key and go!”

  “And now you’re trying to throw me out of my best friend’s house because you won’t accept responsibility for—”

  “You’re damn right I won’t. First you tried to—to seduce me and then you—”

  “I didn’t have to seduce you, you were more than willing. Did you manage to conveniently forget that part, Sheely? You had your hand in my pants! Have you also forgotten that? Well, I sure haven’t!”

  Dana drew back her hand and slapped his face. Her palm connected with his cheek with a resounding, satisfying crack.

  Wade staggered backward a little, rubbing his stinging skin. “Some other guys would hit you back for that. Lucky for you I’m a gentleman, Sheely.”

  “Saxon, you are no gentleman.” Dana ran across the room and picked up a poker from the fireplace set on the hearth. “So go ahead, try to hit me. It’ll give me an excuse to brain you with this.”

  Wade sat down hard on the dark leather sofa. “You know I’d never hit you, but feel free to brain me with the poker, Sheely. Go on, fracture my skull! This day needs only that to go down as the worst in my life. Hey, better yet, whack my crotch with it. That oughta thrill a ball-busting babe like you.”

  Dana replaced the poker. “Since I’m a firm believer in nonviolence, I’ll deprive myself of that particular joy.”

  She stood at the window and looked out at the teeming rain. Wouldn’t it ever stop? Now the sidewalks were part of the expanding lake that used to be the road.

  “I know you’ve convinced yourself that you hate me now, Sheely, but last night you didn’t hate me or what we were doing.” Wade’s voice was flat and low. “Not while we were doing it.”

  Dana turned around to glare at him, folding her arms in front of her chest. “You know, the last time I hit anyone was about twenty years ago when my brother Shawn chopped off my Growin’ Hair Crissy doll’s ponytail while I was at school.”

  “Your point being?” Wade was exasperated. Maybe he was from Uranus, but she was from some other galaxy altogether.

  “Slapping you was abnormal behavior for me,” Dana said primly. “And no matter what you say, you’re not going to goad me into doing it again.”

  “I don’t want you to hit me again. Why would I try to goad you into doing it?”

  “Then why are you—rubbing it in about last night?” she blurted out. “Unless you’re taking some kind of sadistic pleasure in—in—” To her dismay, she felt tears well in her eyes.

  She tried to blink them away, but when one trickled from the corner of her right eye, she quickly turned her back to him again.

  But it was too late. He’d already seen that tear and was on his feet in a flash. “My God, Dana.” He stood behind her and after hesitating a second, placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re crying!”

  “No, I’m not.” She tried to shrug him off. The horror of having him see her in tears had caused them to instantly dissipate.

  Instead, he tightened his fingers and began to knead lightly. “I don’t know
what’s gone wrong but it’s making me crazy, Sheely. I can’t stand for you to hate me, I want things to go back to the way they used to be.”

  “All right, fine. Whatever you want.” At this point, she would say anything to get away from him. She had betrayed way too much already, and only his stunning lack of insight prevented him from putting it all together. “As of right now, things are back to the way they were, okay?”

  She ducked down and under his arm, heading to the front door. “I’ll see you back in Lakeview, Saxon. ‘Bye.”

  “Dana, wait!”

  “I thought you said you wanted things just like they’ve always been. That means you won’t try to stop me from leaving, Saxon.” She tried to sound reasonable, but it took some effort because he had beaten her to the door and was leaning his shoulder against it. Something in his eyes made her very uneasy.

  “Remember that ski trip to the Poconos when I left in the middle of a blizzard because I wanted to get home in plenty of time for Mary Jo’s bridal shower? You didn’t even try to talk me out of leaving then.”

  “That’s because Rena Cheponis was there and I—oh, hell, Sheely, I should’ve talked you out of driving in that blizzard. I did worry, you know. I wanted you to make it back safely,” he added lamely.

  She smiled a little at that. “You can send those same good thoughts along with me today, Saxon.”

  But Wade was in the throes of vivid retroactive angst. That blizzard had been over two years ago but remembering how he’d blithely waved Dana off in the midst of it—his mind on voluptuous Rena Cheponis waiting in the ski lodge—made him feel like a thoughtless, heartless, self-centered jerk. He’d been that, and worse. What if something had happened to her driving in that storm?

  What if something happened to her today? What if he were to lose her?

  Thinking the unthinkable suddenly made everything remarkably clear. Eureka, an epiphany! He laughed quietly to himself. So that’s what it felt like.

  He was suddenly energized, spurred to action. “You’re not going anywhere, Dana.” He caught both her wrists and pulled her to him. “I said I wanted things between us to go back to the way they were, but that’s not going to work.”