Last Night's Kiss

by Shirley Hailstock

“Is he ever?” Adam agreed. “It’s in August. I’m sure he’d like you to come.”

  Rosa smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Adam set the cups on the table. Rosa picked hers up. “I’m not staying,” she said.

  “I thought you wanted to watch the news.” Adam glanced at the overhead television that was set to WNN. He recognized the newscaster, a former colleague and friend. “From what Vida tells me, you need regular fixes of world news. I suppose that’s why you know so much about me.”

  “I thought you had things to do today,” Rosa said, ignoring his comment. “Don’t you need to hurry back to Waymon Valley and get them done?”

  “They can wait.” Adam had a ton of things to do. The ranch didn’t run itself. He knew his father would take care of whatever needed doing. Why was he lying to Rosa Clayton?

  Following her through the door, he waved good-bye to Pandora. “I’ll walk you to your car and follow you back.”

  “I don’t need you to take care of me,” she said.

  “I know. I’ve seen you in action. Maybe I need you to take care of me.”

  “I doubt that,” she said, taking a sip of her latte.

  “Where’d you learn that?” he asked.

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “I told you. I grew up with brothers. You said I was the baby of the family. I am, and that meant I had to learn to hold my own.”

  “You can certainly do that. I was impressed at how well you handled yourself. Did you take self-defense classes?”

  “In many parts of the world,” she answered. “I was a woman alone. Fairly good looking.”

  “Absolutely beautiful,” he contradicted.

  “I’ll take that,” she said. Adam saw her color darken. “All women like compliments. After one of the models was mugged in New York, we all enrolled in self-defense courses.”

  “Have you had to put the learning to practice?”

  “More times than you would think,” she said. “Many men think that because I look this way, I owe them something and if I’m not agreeable to their demands, then they are free to take what they want. It appears the world is not a safe place. But those were only kids today.” She glanced at the shop windows as if they were still there.

  “Yeah, kids, six feet tall and outweighing you by at least fifty pounds. Not to mention there were four of them.”

  “Well, I had surprise on my side. And a little bit of training.”

  “Are you going to be all right from here on?” he asked. He didn’t just mean on the road back to the Valley. He meant from here on. He knew seeing her further was trying the promise he’d made himself, but Rosa was proving she wasn’t the stereotype he’d assumed she would be.

  “I think so. I don’t expect to run into four teenagers again and if I do, I’m sure the story of what happened today will have permeated the entire town, or at least the high school, within half an hour. Now I have fear on my side.”

  She smiled the smile he’d seen countless times from billboards. At the time he didn’t know who she was, but with eyes three feet wide and that tantalizing smile, she’d gotten his attention. Back then she was just paper, cardboard at most, unknown and safe. Now she stood less than a foot from him, and the animated flesh-and-blood woman was inconceivable as a comparison to a paper figure.

  Rosa got into the car and placed her cup in the car’s cup holder.

  “You don’t look very fearsome.” He brought his attention back to the present. “Especially sitting in that decadent car.”

  “It is decadent, isn’t it?”

  He looked at it again, his eyes running along the side from front to back, before coming back to rest on her.

  “But you wouldn’t want to meet me in a dark alley,” she told him. “Or a lighted street for that matter.” She laughed at her own joke. The tinkling of her voice aroused him.

  “All right, drive on,” he said. Standing up, he stepped back from the car.

  Rosa turned the key and the engine roared to life, then purred. His hands itched to drive the mighty beast. He wanted to tame it, show it who had the real power.

  “Be careful,” he told her. “It’s a powerful car. You don’t want it to get away from you.”

  “Remember those brothers of mine? They taught me to drive, too.”

  “I’ll have to meet these brothers one day.”

  “Maybe,” she said. She pulled out. Adam stared after her. The car wove through the early afternoon traffic. She didn’t look back. Adam knew she wouldn’t. He stared after the car, looking at the path she’d taken long after she’d turned the corner and was completely out of sight.

  Rosa Clayton had hidden talents. A couple of them came out today. Adam found himself wanting to know what the others were. And how pleasurable it could be to discover them one at a time.

  Rosa felt every one of the four hundred horses kicking their front legs up and raring to burst through the starting gate. Pressing the accelerator, she opened the gates and let the horses have their way. Getting off the highway, which would take her straight back to the Valley, Rosa noticed a side road on the map. It was straight and deserted. She pressed her foot on the accelerator. The car responded with erotic pleasure, needing only a soft touch to have it purring. Inching the speedometer up past the legal limit, she let the wind whip her curls about her face.

  She couldn’t help the rodeo yell that came from her mouth. It went with the car. Behind her, a tail of dust defined her route. She felt as if she were about to be airborne, launched into the sky, although the car hugged the road solidly. It cornered with the lightness of a slow walk and took a curve as if car and road were engineered as one tandem unit.

  By the time she pulled up in front of Vida’s house, the need for speed had abated by only a minuscule amount. However, she was careful to reduce the volume of her radio to normal hearing decibels and drive under the residential limit.

  Vida met her at the door. “I thought you said you were renting a Jeep.” Her eyes looked past Rosa to the car in her driveway.

  “I was, but this one is so much more fun.”

  “It’s just like you,” Vida said. “Take me for a ride. And I wanna drive, too.”

  Vida disappeared for a moment, grabbing her purse and a hat from the table, before returning to the door. Vida loved hats and rarely went out without one. Within minutes they were riding along.

  Vida scanned the dash in front of her. “I always wanted to own one of these.” Her hands ran over the soft leather like a caress.

  “Why didn’t you get one?” Rosa knew they’d both made a fortune modeling.

  “Practicality,” she said. “On the road there was no need and out here it’s not a practical car.”

  “Screw practicality,” Rosa said. “If you want it, get it.”

  Vida smiled. “How would it look for a poor, struggling designer to be driving around in a red Corvette?”

  “You’re not poor. And why would it look strange? You’d look prosperous. And why shouldn’t you?” The two women glanced at each other, sharing a knowing smile.

  Rosa pulled the car to the edge of the road. She threw the gearshift into neutral, pulled the parking brake up, and got out. “Your turn,” she told Vida. Vida didn’t hesitate. She got out and rushed around the front of the car. Her limp was nearly gone, yet she put her hand on the car for support several times.

  “Fasten your seat belt,” Vida said, and pulled onto the road. Within minutes they were out of town and Vida was speeding along the road leading past the Osborne Ranch.

  “Doesn’t she drive like a dream?” Rosa asked.

  “Oh yes,” Vida agreed. “I have got to get me one of these.”

  “Practicality aside.”

  “Practicality can go take a leap,” she said, without any malice in her voice.

  As they passed the Osborne Ranch, Adam was turning into the driveway. Vida blew the horn and waved but didn’t slow down. Yet Rosa had a clear view of the anger on his face.

  �
��Are the two of you getting along any better?” Vida asked as if they’d been discussing Adam.

  “I try to steer clear of him.” Rosa didn’t tell her that the effort wasn’t working well.

  “Was that before or after you two had lunch? And breakfast from what I hear?”

  Rosa stared at her. “Am I being followed or something?”

  Vida shook her head. “I ran into Bailey. He told me the two of you met on horseback this morning and that Adam had taken you to get the car. I suppose Adam told him about lunch.”

  “Pull over,” Rosa said. “You’re only supposed to drive short distances.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I know. But let’s not push the leg.” She knew what Adam’s expression had meant. And while she wanted to tell him to jump off the nearest mountain, it was Vida who would be hurt if she pushed herself too hard.

  Although Vida no longer limped, he’d been adamant in reminding her that Vida couldn’t drive as far as Butte. Speeding along the road wasn’t good for her, either.

  “This car is so easy to drive, the touch so light, I could go all the way to North Dakota.”

  “Pull over,” Rosa said.

  Vida slowed the car and stopped. There was no shoulder to speak of, so most of the car sat on the one-lane road. Again the two switched seats. Rosa took the wheel and headed back to town. Her own house was along the way.

  “Can we stop a moment?” Vida asked as they neared her driveway. “I haven’t seen your place.”

  “Sure,” Vida said. “I thought, since it was Adam’s, that you’d been here before.”

  “I have, but I want to see what you’ve done with it.” It had to be the designer in Vida. She was forever discussing how she would have decorated any room the two of them were in.

  Inside the house, Rosa poured the leftover lemonade into two glasses and took them to the living room. Vida looked around. She took in the floor and walls and paintings. “The house looks great. It hasn’t changed much. I’m sure you’ll add a few touches of your own. And it’s time someone lived here.”

  “How long did Adam live here?”

  “Not long. He moved in and almost immediately got an assignment. Like us, he was always on the road. He maintained an address in D.C. We were all surprised when he showed up here, suitcases in hand, planning to stay.”

  Rosa knew about the condo in D.C. She’d seen a spread on him in GQ a few years ago. The place was upscale, using a thirties theme of black-and-white art deco. She wondered if he still owned it.

  “Maybe his dad was the reason he returned.”

  “Bailey can use some looking after, but Adam could have hired someone to do that.”

  “A nurse is no replacement for family.”

  “He has a lot of family here. Any number of his cousins would have moved in with Bailey. Adam was about to get the job of his life. Then suddenly he’s back in Waymon Valley.”

  “You think there’s another reason for him being here?” Rosa thought about that. Usually that meant a woman.

  Vida was nodding. “He hasn’t said what, but I know Adam. And he’s not telling us everything.”

  “You two have a very special relationship.”

  “The Osbornes and I have a special relationship. I learned to ride horses on their ranch. Medea taught me how to make the best corn bread in the West. Bailey told me stories about the settlement of Waymon Valley that were more alive than anything I learned in a school history class. And Adam and I practically grew up together on roads that are now streets.”

  “I understand a little more now.”

  “What do you mean?” Vida sipped her lemonade.

  “He’s extremely protective of you.”

  “Not just me.” She smiled. “It’s his nature. He’s a sucker for a woman in jeopardy. He’d do the same for anyone.”

  Rosa wasn’t so sure—although he had come to her aid in Butte when he thought she needed it.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Adam nearly shouted when Rosa pulled into the driveway after dropping Vida off at her house. She opened the door and he brushed by her, walking into the middle of the room. He stopped as if he hadn’t decided what to do after getting inside.

  “Not to my knowledge,” Rosa answered, her tone as soft as his was harsh.

  “Why did you let Vida go roaring down the road like that? If she’d hit something, she could break that leg again, not to mention breaking your pretty little neck.”

  “Welcome,” Rosa said, acknowledging his lack of manners. “Won’t you come in?” She closed the door.

  He glared at her but didn’t bother saying hello.

  “Vida may have been roaring, but it wasn’t down the road. And her leg was not broken. And in case you haven’t noticed, she’d not an invalid. She seemed to do very well taking care of herself without you around for several years to my personal knowledge. You’re acting like her father and even if you were she’s way too old for you to make decisions for her.”

  Rosa moved to the counter that separated the kitchen from the large living room. “Why are you really here? This is no longer your house. You don’t have the right to come barging in here reprimanding me as if I were a child.”

  He took the time to look her up and down, slowly as if he were deciding something. “I can see you’re no child.” His voice was low and sexy.

  Rosa’s body flashed hot under his stare. After a moment of enduring it, she said, “What is it about me that you don’t like?”

  “You’re beautiful,” he replied. “Too beautiful.”

  It was the last thing she expected to hear. Adam certainly wasn’t like other men she’d met. Most of them followed her around like a lapdog. Adam followed her around, but only to get a rise out of her. And she seemed to play right into his hands.

  “Beauty isn’t something I can do anything about,” she said. “My looks were determined by my parents, the ones I never knew. But it’s worked for me. And it worked for you. Don’t think your face didn’t get you into places where others would have been turned away.” She paused a moment. “But you’re not here to talk about my face.” She looked at him a moment. His expression was unreadable. “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

  “Her? Who?”

  “The other woman. The beautiful one. The one who was too beautiful.”

  His shoulders dropped a second later. Rosa knew she’d touched a nerve. She moved around the kitchen counter. Opening the refrigerator, she took out a carton of ice cream and filled two bowls. Adding chocolate syrup, nuts, and cherries to one, she took them to the living room.

  “Well, follow me,” she said, using her arm to wave him over.

  She handed him a bowl along with the syrup, nuts, and cherries and sat down on one of the huge sofas in front of the fireplace.

  “Am I in therapy?” he asked, tasting his ice cream.

  “Not today,” she said. “Therapy involves lying down, with soft music in the background and hot oils.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. What does ice cream indicate?”

  “Friendship…maybe.”

  “Maybe?” he questioned.

  “You don’t like me, remember?”

  He nodded. “Why’d you come here for your vacation? With all the cities open to you, why Waymon Valley?”

  She stopped him. “Oh no, this is your floor show, not mine. You’re going to do the talking.”

  “Did I agree to this?”

  “Of course you did. It’s healthy. It’ll make you less cynical.”

  His look said he didn’t believe her, but he took a seat and laid his head back against the upholstery. For a long time he said nothing. Rosa didn’t think he was going to. He seemed to have drifted back in time to a place where only he and his demons knew the address.

  Chapter 4

  It was unusual for Adam to come across someone like Rosa. Her name indicated delicacy, someone who needed and wanted pampering. And heaven knows her body spoke of the type of woman who needed caring for. Bu
t her disposal of four healthy teenagers in the “male out for trouble” category proved she’d passed the shrinking violet period long ago.

  Adam admired her ability to keep her head and protect herself. She reminded him a lot of Maureen. The two women were radically different in looks and personality, but Adam hadn’t had to worry about either. At least that’s what he thought, until the police knocked on his door at 3:00 AM and took him to the morgue to identify the body of camerawoman Maureen Carter.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Adam closed off the mental image of Maureen lying naked under a sheet, her face gray with death. And the aftermath of her passing. He’d seen worlds torn apart. Witnessed the worst that man could do to himself, but when that cruelty touched him, he never knew how deeply it could cut, how much it could change his life.

  Purposely he pulled the image of Rosa Clayton to mind. She was sitting across from him, but he visualized her in the car—her hair a mass of long curls pulled into a swinging ponytail, her face clear, unadorned by a frame of hair, her makeup flawless, and her smile inviting his mouth to ravish hers.

  His eyes flew open. She stared at him. Standing up, he moved to the fireplace. Abruptly he dropped thoughts of Rosa, although his body, aroused from mental pictures, took longer to resume a normal state.

  Rosa was about to say something. He could feel it, but the ringing of the telephone stopped her. Both of them turned to look at the white instrument on the table next to where she sat.

  She picked up the receiver and a moment later, her eyes met his. She hadn’t said anything beyond hello.

  “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said. As he started to move, she stood up.

  “It’s for you.”

  When he turned, she was holding the phone out to him. Who could this be? Adam hadn’t lived here in years. Who had this phone number other than his father and people in the Valley? But none of them would call him here.

  Putting the phone to his ear, he said, “Hello.”

  “Adam, good to hear your voice.”

  “Not interested,” he said, recognizing the deep bass tone of Benjamin Masterson. Ben was a producer at WNN, his former employer. He’d called Adam several times, always with a more lucrative offer to get him back to D.C. and a news job.