“Lexi.” His look wasn’t angry, it was dead serious. “When I got that call…” He closed his eyes. “When they told me what happened… Those guys could have done a lot more than just take your purse.”
“They wouldn’t have hurt me.”
“How the hell do you know?” he roared.
I shut up. He dropped his head, and I noticed his hands were balled into tight fists by his sides.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat. He’d been scared for me…worried about me. And I was acting like an inconsiderate brat. He didn’t say anything, just turned around and stared out the window. It had started to snow.
“I don’t mean to be ungrateful. It’s just that no one’s ever worried about me before.” I paused for a second. “Well, April worries about me. But she worries that everyone on Gilligan’s Island will end up with skin cancer, so I’m not sure if she counts.”
Dan didn’t speak, but his hands unclenched a bit. I couldn’t stand the silence, so I kept up my nervous chatter. “Listen, I was going to make chicken spaghetti for dinner. If you put up that alarm thingy for me, I will treat you to the culinary experience of your life. Seriously, people have driven from Dayton to Cincinnati for my chicken spaghetti.”
“I didn’t know you cooked.” He was still facing the window, mesmerized by the snow.
“Well, chicken spaghetti and fried egg sandwiches. Would you like one of those instead?” I was already halfway to the kitchen, jumping at the chance to atone for my poor behavior.
“Lexi, you don’t have to cook for me.” He followed me to the kitchen.
“But I want to. Please?” My voice sounded small, almost desperate.
“Okay, but no fried egg sandwich. It sounds like prison food.”
“You’ve never had a fried egg sandwich?” I asked incredulously.
“I’m not a big egg eater. The yellow part makes me gag.”
“God, Dan, I thought better of you. My fried egg sandwiches are Nirvana on toast.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
We worked in companionable silence, me in the kitchen, Dan in the front foyer hooking up the alarm, until the sun started to set and the aroma of chicken and pasta brought Dan into the kitchen, nose first, sniffing appreciatively.
“Holy Rachael Ray, it smells good in here.”
I think I actually blushed, but the heat in the kitchen hid my pleasure. He reached over to dip his pinky in the sauce I was stirring, but I swatted it away.
“Wash your hands,” I commanded, and he held both palms up to me in mock surrender.
“Sorry,” I said. “My grandmother taught me to cook. She was a bit of a germaphobe. ‘Wash your hands, you’ll get a stomachache,’ she’d say. That and ‘Don’t eat bananas after five o’clock.’ Oh, and ‘If your lips itch, it means you want to be kissed.’“
Dan stopped drying his hands on the dishtowel. “How do your lips feel?” He was right behind me. I turned around, expecting to see a teasing gleam in his eyes, but they weren’t teasing. At all.
“They might be a little itchy,” I whispered. He was so close. He smelled really, really good. I followed the nervous dip of his Adam’s apple, then reached up and pressed my lips to his cheek.
“Lexi,” he breathed.
“Kiss me.”
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. That wasn’t what I meant.
“Dan…”
He opened his mouth to speak, but words didn’t come.
“What?” I prompted.
He looked at my lips.
“If I kiss you, I’ll never stop.”
I took a stuttering breath as he traced the curve of my jaw with his finger. His eyes were so dark—they went right through me. I reached for his hand and placed it on my cheek.
That touch, or something in my eyes, must have released whatever was left of his reticence, because suddenly I was in his arms, his embrace tight, his lips hot and demanding on mine. Our mouths opened at the same time, as if by agreement, and we wrestled each other with our tongues. His had a sharp, frantic taste, and it made me gasp with pleasure.
With his lips still on mine, he began to drag me from the kitchen. I reached blindly for the stove, twisting off the burner under the saucepan so I didn’t torch the place.
“Hmph,” he grunted against my mouth, congratulating me on my display of fire safety. We made it to the couch, and I shoved his shirt up, high on his chest. My hands explored the contours of his body, caressing the sexy spattering of dark curls, tiny Cs traveling down his stomach. He was trim and hard, his shoulders broad, hips narrow, as if he spent his days doing gymnastics instead of writing market analyses. He growled low in his throat as I scraped my nails across his ribcage.
As I moved closer to his waistband, he diverted me, pushing me down and kissing my cheeks and throat. Then he laced my fingers between his and plucked wet, soft kisses from my lips. There was no more crazed heat between us, just a slow, steady burn. And although part of me wanted to sit up and climb him like a jungle gym, the other, softer part never wanted this sweet embrace to end. We kissed for so long I lost track of time, and soon all that existed was Dan, enveloping me with his warm, gentle mouth. At some point I must have started to cry, because he finally stopped and caught a tear on the side of my face with his thumb.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not. Am I?” And then I let out a choked sob, answering my own question.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he sat up. “I shouldn’t have started this.”
“No…Dan…I mean—Wait!” He stood up, and I could see him changing back to the real Dan, the one who treated me like an annoying little sister. But that wasn’t the real Dan, was it? I could have sworn the real Dan just kissed me as if he could never get enough.
He moved toward the front door, his arms crossed over his chest. He spoke with his back to me. “Last week. You and I got into some kind of argument at the office. I behaved badly, and I knew you were upset. It’s just…we sit there all day, talking and laughing, and when it’s time for you to leave…I dread it, more than I should. So I pick fights.” He paused for a moment. “After you left, I sat at my desk, trying to understand myself: I don’t even try to charm her—and on occasion, I can be pretty goddamn charming. Instead, I just alienate her. Because I can’t…” He shook his head.
“Why can’t you?”
“Lexi, I’m your boss.”
“So?” I wasn’t being obtuse. There were more hook-ups at T&G than at a Match.com happy hour.
“So? It’s inappropriate. And a great way for both of us to get fired.” He still wasn’t looking at me, but I knew it was more than our work situation that was holding him back.
I walked over and wrapped my arms around him from behind, my face buried in his back, between his shoulder blades. He was so warm. He lifted my hand from his chest and kissed my palm. “I’d better go. The alarm’s installed. Please set it after I leave, okay?” His back was tense against my chest.
“You’re dying to get out of here, aren’t you?” He didn’t answer. “Why? Why do you want to leave?”
“Lexi, I can’t…I have to go.”
“But what about dinner?” I pulled away from him and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to turn and face me.
“Some other time, okay?” He tried to make his voice light and casual, but we were both unsettled. He took my hands tight in his and held them close against his heart. And then he let go of me and left.
Chapter Six
The next day I was cranky, one of those mornings when you wake up and feel as if you haven’t really slept at all. I went through my Saturday routine—oatmeal for breakfast, then a long, slow bike ride around the neighborhood, then a shower and the lazy woman’s cleaning routine, which consists of washing the dishes, vacuuming and running over the tile in the kitchen with a Swiffer. When I opened the door to take out the garbage, I accidentally set off Dan’s alarm, which made me want to sit on
the floor and sob. Instead I threw a shoe at it, which left a nice, satisfying crack in the plastic casing.
My phone rang as I was going through the mail. I jumped, then forced myself to calm down.
“Hey, Lexi.” Oh, God.
“Hey, Jack.”
“What’s up?” I could tell from the deepness of his voice that he was still in bed, probably touching himself, probably thinking that I would be more satisfying than his right hand.
“Not much.” And I wondered how I could get him off the phone, because I felt nothing. Nothing. The thought of being with Jack, making love with Jack, having a torturously boring conversation with Jack, left me cold. Depressed. He was just another pretty face, and it was not the face I wanted. Not anymore.
“I miss you. How’s your leg?”
“My ankle. It’s fine. I got my boot off on Thursday.”
“Well, since you’re on the mend, would you like to come by my place? We could have some lunch.” Lunch, my ass.
“Jack…” Deep breath. It was go-time. “Listen…you’re a great guy, and I’ve had a lot of fun with you, but I’m not really ready for a relationship right now.”
“Who said anything about a relationship? We’re just having a good time, right?”
“Okay, let’s try this again. The truth is, I am ready for a relationship. Just not with you.” Wow. Was that the truth?
“Lexi, I’m sorry that I haven’t been more attentive. Listen, work right now is crazy—Turner and Bradshaw are nipping at my heels, and I’ve been trying to make time for Brooklyn…”
The daughter or the borough, I wondered. “Jack, listen, this is my point. You’ve got a lot on your plate, and so do I. I just think it’d be best if we didn’t see each other anymore.”
Silence. This had to be a lot for him to swallow. I mean, even with all his charm and beauty, he’d been dumped by Julia for the manny, and now I was giving him the heave-ho. I searched for words to soften the blow, but before I could soothe his ego, he cut me off.
“Fine. Listen, I think you still have that pair of gloves I let you borrow at the Black Goose last week. Slip them in an interoffice envelope on Monday, would you?” Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as broken up as I imagined.
“Sure, Jack. Bye.” And I hung up on the last six years of my life.
Monday morning I was greeted at the office with an email from Dan. He had a morning meeting with some guys from Qualcomm, and he’d be in after lunch. I wondered if he really had a meeting or if he was just avoiding me. Pulling out my can of peanuts, I booted up my computer and turned on the radio. But it wasn’t fun anymore.
By ten thirty, Dan had over a dozen calls, and it was starting to put me over the edge. We had a habit of not answering each other’s phone, but by eleven it was driving me nuts, and I lunged for his desk.
“Yes!” Calm down, Lexi. “Dan Yeager’s office.”
“Hello, this is Nancy Sullivan from Sterling Ridge Assisted Living. May I please speak to Mr. Yeager?”
“I’m sorry, he’s out of the office this morning. May I take a message?”
“Do you know how I might reach him? It’s quite urgent.”
I felt a shaft of dread go through me. “Is this about his mother? Is she okay?”
There was a pause. “I really need to speak to Mr. Yeager about the situation.”
“Listen, let me put you on hold, I’ll try to get in touch with him.” She agreed, and I raced for my purse. I called Dan’s cell, his home, sent a text, sent an email. Nothing. Where the hell was he? Who’s completely unreachable in this day and age? I went back to his desk.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Sullivan, I can’t locate him at the moment. If you could just let me know what’s going on, I’m Dan’s…” What—Assistant? Friend? Irritant? “I’m Dan’s girlfriend. I’m very close to the family. He’d want you to tell me what’s wrong.”
She seemed to consider this. I held my breath.
“Well, I can’t give you any medical information, but I can say that she’s very agitated. We can’t give her a sedative without Mr. Yeager’s consent. I’m afraid she might hurt herself if we can’t calm her down.”
I thought for a second.
“Listen, why don’t I come down and sit with her until we can get in touch with Dan? He always calls me as soon as he gets out of a meeting.” A total lie, but I wanted her to swallow the girlfriend story.
“Well, why don’t we wait—”
“Terrific, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Tell her Lexi’s on her way—that should calm her down.” I hung up. Tell her Lexi’s on her way? Jesus.
I grabbed a cab downstairs, and together the driver and I managed to find Sterling Ridge. It was a small, well-landscaped facility on the north side of town. Nancy was at the front desk, and she still seemed reluctant to talk to me. However, I could tell she was tired of dealing with Dan’s mom, so I pressed her.
“Just take me to her—I know I can calm her down.” Oh God, I knew no such thing. I’d called Dan fifty times on the cab ride over. Where the hell was he?
When we got to her room, Dan’s mom was pacing the floor, being watched by an orderly who looked about twelve.
“Mrs. Yeager, you have a visitor,” Nancy announced in a loud, slow voice. God, she was crazy, not deaf.
“Hi…” Shit, I had no idea what her name was. I couldn’t call her Mrs. Yeager. We were practically family. “Hi, Mom.”
“Who are you?” she demanded. She was very thin, and short. Her eyes were black, just like Dan’s. She gave me an irritated, impatient look. Just like Dan.
“It’s Lexi, Mom.” I chuckled indulgently and gave Nancy a knowing, oh-these-nutty-Alzheimer’s-patients look. “I can take it from here,” I told Nancy and the preteen orderly. “We’ll just visit for a while, okay, Mom?”
She gave me such a sneering Dan-look that I almost laughed.
“I need to go home,” she announced as soon as the others had left. I’d dealt with my own grandmother before she died, and I knew the best thing to do in these situations was to just go with the flow.
“Of course you do. We’ll get you there soon, okay?”
“No, I need to go now!” she spat. “Dan’s waiting for me.”
“No, no—Dan’s on his way here.” I clarified.
“What?” This confused her. “Is he taking the bus?”
“No, ma’am, he’s driving. He’ll be here very soon.” I tried to take her shoulder and lead her to the edge of her bed, but she was having none of it.
“He’s driving? Absolutely not, I told him I don’t want him driving without an adult. Three weeks with a learner’s permit, and he thinks he’s Mario Andretti. He’ll kill himself!” Her eyes were wide with anger and fear.
Oh, shit. Shit. “Oh, no, you’re right, he is taking the bus. I forgot. I’m sure that’s why he’s late. The traffic’s horrible this afternoon, there’s a lot of ice on the road.” This seemed to satisfy her, and she allowed me to scoot her to the bed. We both sat on the edge.
“How do you think he’s doing?” she asked me.
“Who?”
“Dan.”
“Oh…Dan’s great. Terrific. I know he’s anxious to see you. He should be here any minute.” Please, please let him be here any minute.
She looked at her lap. “I wish I could do something for him. But you know Dan, he’s so quiet. He won’t tell me anything. I mean, I guess all teenagers are like that with their mothers, but I know how much he’s hurting. I heard him crying in his room last night.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just placed my hand on her knee. She didn’t seem to notice. I tried to imagine Dan as a teenager, crying in his room. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.
“Jim could talk to him. I mean, they mainly talked about sports, but they talked, you know?” I nodded. “How am I going to raise him alone? He’s only fifteen, he needs his father. He misses him terribly.”
I needed to say something. I didn’t know this woman, but I knew Dan.
“Mrs. Yeager, Dan’s going to grow up to be a wonderful man. He’ll be kind and funny and caring… I think he’ll always be quiet, but you know what they say about still waters, right?”
She was silent for a long moment.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.”
“Hey.” And there was Dan, in the doorway.
“Omigod,” I breathed, clutching my throat. How did he creep up like that? I was so relieved to see him I jumped up and grabbed his arm, as if he might try to escape. “We’ve been waiting for you, haven’t we, Mrs. Yeager? Where the hell have you been?” I murmured the last part under my breath.
“My phone’s screwed up, the battery won’t charge anymore.” His eyes were sorry and worried, and something else I couldn’t think about in front of his mother.
“Mom, what’s wrong? Nancy said you were upset.” He sat on the bed and took her hand. Mrs. Yeager began the second chorus of her favorite song, “I Want to Go Home”, and I caught Dan’s eye and gave him a little wave.
“I’m going to go,” I mouthed, pointing behind me towards the door.
“Wait, Lexi…please don’t go.”
Oh, those words, from his lips. His eyes held mine, and I suddenly remembered the first time I did a backflip in my cousin Katy’s pool—I felt disoriented for a second, but then perfectly, joyously right.
So that’s what it felt like to fall in love.
Chapter Seven
I took a cab back to the office from Sterling Ridge—Dan shoved a wad of bills in my hand as I left, and I didn’t know how to refuse it in front of his mom. I sank into the backseat and thanked the Lord for my blessedly silent cabbie. Still feeling a little shaky, I called April. Her voice was always like a salve to me, calm and sweet. I told her what had happened at the nursing home.
“What do you mean, you fell in love with him?”
“Well, I think I fell in love with him a long time ago, but I didn’t realize it until today. When he looked at me and asked me not to leave, there was something in his eyes. I just knew from his expression that he loved me. And then I knew immediately that I loved him too. It was weird, especially right there in front of his mother. I never imagined falling in love with the smell of arthritis cream in the air.”
An Unexpected Love Page 4
