“You didn’t call home and ask for money.”
It was a statement, not a question. Obviously, he and Grammy had talked about her after she’d left.
“Nope. It had been my decision to leave, so it was my responsibility to make it on my own. I didn’t want to get complacent, thinking that I always had someone waiting to send me money. The only thing I allowed myself was the promise my grandmother had made to send me a ticket home should I ever want it.”
“Were you tempted?”
“A couple of times. But I held on and then things began to turn around. I got my first well-paying modeling job right before she died. She didn’t get to see the magazine spread, but she knew about it, so that was something.”
Kari pulled off the last piece of baseboard and dragged it out into the hallway.
Gage reached for the can of primer. “You know she was proud of you,” he said.
She nodded. “I know. She never made me feel bad for leaving, and she always said I was going to make it.”
“And you did.”
“Sort of. But in the meantime, there were all those other lovely jobs.”
He poured primer into two small buckets, then took a brush and handed her another. “Any painting?” he asked.
“No. I think there’s a union. I did more conventional things. Worked in retail, walked dogs, delivered packages.”
“Waited on tables?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t eat much, and being around food was torture. I tried to avoid restaurants whenever possible. My favorite gig was house-sitting. I stayed in some amazing places. Great views, soft beds, and not a cockroach in sight.”
“Were you ever scared?” Gage asked.
“Sometimes. At first. I’d never been on my own. It was a trial by fire.”
While Gage enjoyed hearing about her previous life, he didn’t ask the one question he wanted to. Had she missed him? Had she thought about him after she left, or had she shaken off his memory like so much unwanted dust?
“It was quiet after you left,” he said instead as he brushed primer on the wall by the window.
Kari crouched by the door frame. She half turned and glanced at him over her shoulder. “I’m sorry if…” Her voice trailed off. “I never asked because I was afraid of what I’d hear. I’m sorry if it was bad for you after…”
He knew what she meant. After she left. After she stood him up and walked out of his life. Word spreads fast in a small town and by prom night nearly everyone knew that he’d bought an engagement ring for Kari. It was months before well-meaning folk stopped asking “No, how are you really?”
“It wasn’t so bad,” he said, because it was true. The blow to his pride was nothing compared with the pain in his heart. He’d never been in love before. Having Kari walk away so easily had taught him a hard lesson—that being in love didn’t guarantee being loved in return.
Until Kari had left him, he’d assumed they would spend the rest of their lives together. He’d planned a future that had included only one woman. Finding out she didn’t share his dreams…or want to marry him…had shattered his hopes and broken his heart.
“I used to look for your pictures in women’s magazines,” he admitted.
She stood up and laughed. “I can’t believe you bought them.”
“Some. I went to the next town, though.”
“I should hope so. We can’t have one of Possum Landing’s finest checking out fashion magazines.” Her laughter faded. “I’m guessing you gave up long before you found me on one of the pages.”
“Nope. I told you I saw that hair ad.”
There had been others. It was nearly five years before he’d been able to let Kari go.
“That was my first big break,” she said.
“I liked the lingerie spread,” he teased. “You looked good in the black stuff, but the teal was my favorite.”
The brush fell out of Kari’s hand. Fortunately it tumbled onto the tarp rather than the carpet. She blinked at him as a flush climbed up her cheeks.
“You saw that?” she asked in a strangled voice.
“Uh-huh.”
She cleared her throat, then realized she’d dropped her brush and picked it up. “Yes, well, I don’t know how the regular lingerie models stand it. I hated wearing so little and how everyone stared at me. Plus, I was starving. I hadn’t eaten for three days beforehand so I wouldn’t be bloated. I started to get light-headed, so I worried that I was going to have a really spacey expression on my face and the client wouldn’t like it.” She shivered slightly. “I never looked at those pictures when they came out. They were a part of my portfolio, but I avoided them.”
“You were beautiful,” he said sincerely. “I had no idea what was under all those clothes you used to wear.”
“Just the usual body parts.”
“It’s all in the details, darlin’.”
Kari laughed.
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Gage didn’t mind that they weren’t talking. Being around Kari took some getting used to. At one time she’d been everything, then she’d been gone and he’d had to figure out how to make her not matter. Having her back confused him. While his body was very clear on what it wanted from her, the rest of him wasn’t so sure.
Not that it was going to be an issue. She was moving on. Which meant anything other than sex would make him a fool for love twice. No way was he going to let that happen.
“I always wanted to thank you,” Kari said as she poured primer into roller trays.
He noticed she was careful not to look at him.
“For what you did…or didn’t do, when we were going out.”
He had no idea what she was talking about. “What didn’t I do?”
She shrugged. “You know.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
She turned to him. “You never pushed me. Now the age difference between us is nothing, but back then it was a big deal. You had been in the military and traveled the world. You’d seen and done things and you never…” Her voice trailed off.
Gage stared at her. “Are you talking about sex?”
For the second time in a half hour, she blushed. “Yes. You never pushed me. I didn’t think it was a big deal back then, but now, I know that it was. You wanted things from me, but you never made me feel that I had to give in to keep you.”
“You didn’t. Kari, I wanted to marry you. I wasn’t going to dump you because you were young and innocent.”
“I know. I just want to thank you for that.”
He wondered what kind of guys she’d met that would make her think his behavior was anything but normal.
She picked up a roller. “I thought you were a knight in shining armor that first night we met.”
He frowned. “I was doing my job and you were damn lucky I came along.”
“I know.” She smiled sadly. “I was so excited to be invited to that party with real college boys. I’d never been to one before. One of my friends, Sally, had beer at her seventeenth birthday party, but that was a girls-only sleepover, and while it was exciting for us, it didn’t have the same thrill as a boy–girl party with hard liquor.”
He shook his head. “Unless you’ve changed, you’re not much of a drinker at all.”
She laughed. “Oh, I didn’t want to drink any, I just wanted to be in with the cool kids. I never was all that popular.”
That surprised Gage. He remembered her having lots of friends in high school. But he knew that she’d never belonged to any one social group. Part of the reason was that Kari hadn’t fit any label, part of it was that she had been so pretty. She’d intimidated the boys and alienated the girls.
“I was so scared,” she said with a sigh. “Walking down that back road by myself.”
“You should have been scared.”
He remembered their first official meeting. He’d moved back to Possum Landing after getting out of the service and had taken a job as a deputy. He’d bought his house a year late
r, right beside Kari’s grandmother’s place. While in the process of moving in, he’d noticed the pretty young woman next door. He hadn’t thought anything of her at the time. Not until he’d been called out to a loud party on the edge of town.
Gage had given a warning and had known he would be called back in less than an hour. The second time he would get tough, but he always figured everyone deserved one chance to screw up. On his way back to the station he’d seen an old Caddy crawling along at about five miles an hour. The top was down and there were four very drunk college guys in the vehicle. Gage had hit his lights. A flash of movement on the side of the road had caught his attention. It was only then that he saw a teenage girl looking scared and out of place.
He’d sized up the situation in less than a minute. Girl goes to wild party, tries to escape and has no ride home, so she walks. Drunk boys follow, looking for trouble. He told her to climb into his squad car before telling the guys to walk back to the party or risk being arrested for drunk driving. They’d protested, but finally agreed. Gage had taken the keys, saying they could get them back the following day…as long as they were accompanied by a parent. Then he’d returned to his car to find a trembling teenager fighting tears.
He’d prayed she wouldn’t break down before he got her home. It was only when she whispered her address that he realized she was his neighbor.
Now, all these years later, he remembered how concerned he’d felt. Kari was only a kid. But kid or not, she’d been drinking.
“You nearly threw up in my car,” he complained, speaking his thoughts out loud.
Kari glared at him. “I did not. I got out of the car before I threw up.”
“You looked awful.”
“Gee, thanks. I felt awful. But you were really nice. You gave me your handkerchief afterward.”
“You notice I didn’t ask for it back.”
She laughed. “Yes, I did notice that.” She rolled on more primer. “I haven’t thought about that night for a long time. I was in over my head. Everyone at the party was drunk. I drank some, but not enough to forget myself. Some of the boys wanted to have sex and I didn’t.”
“So you started walking home.”
“And you saved me.”
“I gave you a ride.”
“Yes, and then you lectured me on being stupid.”
Gage remembered that. He hadn’t let her out of the car until he’d given her a stern talking to. Her blue eyes had widened as he talked about the dangers of parties that could get out of hand.
He’d given the lecture several times before, but never had he been distracted by a passenger. He found himself having thoughts that didn’t go with the job.
“Then you asked me how old I was,” Kari continued. “I couldn’t figure out why. I thought maybe it had something to do with arresting me.”
“Not exactly.”
“I know that, now.”
“You’d been eighteen for two days,” he said in disgust. “I was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Six years seemed like a big gap back then.”
“But you asked me out, anyway.”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
He was telling the truth. Gage had tried to talk himself out of his attraction for nearly a month. Finally he’d gone to Kari’s grandmother and sought her opinion.
“Grammy said it was fine,” Kari said softly. “I think she really hoped I would marry you and live next door.”
She turned away suddenly, but not before Gage thought he saw tears in her eyes.
“She would have liked that,” he said quietly, “but more than anything, she wanted your happiness.”
“I know,” she said with a nod. “It’s just…” She glanced around the room. “Being back here makes me miss her. Silly, huh?”
“No. You loved her. That’s never silly.”
She gave him a grateful smile. He felt a tightening low in his gut. Being back might make her miss her grandmother, but it made Gage miss other things. Oddly enough, they were things that had never happened. He didn’t have memories of making love with Kari, yet he knew exactly what the experience would be. He knew the taste of her and how she would feel. He knew the sounds she would make and the magic that would flare between them. Despite the years and the miles, he still wanted her.
“You always understand,” she said.
“Not even close.”
“You understood me before and you still understand me.”
“Maybe you’re just simple.”
She chuckled. “That must be it.”
He didn’t want it to be anything else—he didn’t want to have any kind of connection to Kari Asbury. Sex was easy, but anything else would be complicated…and potentially dangerous.
“You’re probably just really good with women,” she said. “I mean, I was gone on you in thirty seconds, and now Daisy obviously has the hots for you.”
“I don’t want to talk about either of you.”
“You want to talk about me,” she teased. “Don’t you? Don’t you want to take a long walk down memory lane?”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”
“I guess.” She stared at him. “Have you slept with her?”
He stared back. “No.”
“You didn’t sleep with me, either. You do have sex with some of them, don’t you, Gage?”
He saw the twinkle in her eyes. He kept his face sober as he continued to paint. “Sure. But I’m sort of a go-all-night kind of lover and that cuts into my sleep. I can’t take on any new women until I get rested again.”
She groaned. “Oh, please.”
“Right now? You want to do it on the tarp?”
She laughed, then her humor faded. “I’m sorry you weren’t my first time,” she said, not looking at him, then shrugged. “You probably didn’t want to know that.”
He was stunned by the confession, probably because he had so many regrets about the same thing. “I wanted that, too,” he admitted. “I’d thought about it a lot, but I wanted to wait…”
“And then I was gone,” she said, finishing the sentence. “I’m sorry. For a lot of things.”
“Me, too.”
They didn’t speak for a while, but he didn’t mind the silence. He’d always felt comfortable around Kari. He hadn’t thought they needed to make peace with the past, but a little closure never hurt anyone.
Finally he put down his brush and stretched. “Hey, I’ve been working way longer than two hours. It’s time for a break. I think you should make my sandwich now.”
“Excuse me, I believe I told you I wasn’t making anything. That you were on your own.”
She straightened, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Naw. You want to wait on me. It’s a chick thing.”
“I’m tall and wiry, Gage. I could take you right now.”
He grinned. “Not even on a bet, kid.”
Chapter Six
“What do you mean you’re not going to help me clean up?” Kari asked in pretended outrage after they’d finished lunch.
Gage leaned back in his chair, looking full and satisfied and very sexy.
“I made my own sandwich,” he said, ticking off items on his fingers. “Despite protests. I brought the potato and macaroni salads.”
“But you didn’t make them. Your mom did.”
“I carried them, and it’s damn far from my house to yours.” He held up another finger. “I’m providing free labor and charming company, so it seems to me that cleaning would clearly be your responsibility.”
She shook her head, more charmed than irritated. “You need to get married so some woman can whip you into shape.”
He glanced down at his midsection. “Don’t you like my shape? I’ve never had complaints before.”
She didn’t want to think about how he looked in his worn jeans and T-shirt. Just a quick glance at his muscles and the way he moved was enough to make her squirm. Not that she was going to admit it.
“You’re passable,” she s
aid, going for a bored tone.
“You’re just used to those sissy boys in New York.”
She laughed. “Some of them are pretty nice looking.”
“Real men are born in Texas.”
“Like you?”
He leaned toward her. “Exactly like me.”
They were flirting, she realized. It wasn’t something she did very often, mostly because she was afraid of messing up. But with Gage that didn’t seem to matter. If she put a step wrong, he wouldn’t say anything to make her feel bad. He was, as he had always been, safe.
The thought surprised her. Why would she still think of Gage as safe? What did she know about him? He could have changed. He probably had, she thought, but not in any ways that affected his character.
“Maybe I’ll take a nap,” he said.
She glared at him. “You will not. I’m practically paying you to help me, so you’ll get your butt back upstairs and keep working.”
He grinned. “Make me.”
Something hot and sensual flared to life inside her. Something that made her wish for a witty comeback or the physical courage to walk over there and—
The phone rang.
“Talk about being saved by the bell,” Kari muttered as she crossed the kitchen.
“I’ll go start work,” he said, rising. “But don’t you take too long. I’m keeping track of hours, and if I work more than you, there will be hell to pay.”
She dismissed him with a wave and reached for the phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, darling. How are you doing?”
Her humor faded as if it had never been. Tension instantly filled her. “Hi, Mom. I’m great. What’s up with you?” Kari hoped her mother didn’t hear the tension in her voice.
“Your father and I are planning a trip soon. You know, the usual.”
Kari did know. She hated the fact that twenty-plus years after the fact, the information still had the power to make her feel angry and bitter.
“I received your letter,” Aurora Asbury continued. “I never understand why you write instead of calling. Although, I always enjoy hearing from you.”
“Thanks,” Kari said. She wasn’t about to admit that she wrote because it was one-way communication and a whole lot easier than picking up the phone.
Good Husband Material Page 7
