"You don't really want to kiss me that way."
"Oh, but I do." he said with a gleam in his eyes. "I really do." And he did. He covered her mouth with his, pushing past her lips with a confidence and sureness that felt absolutely right, absolutely perfect. His tongue danced against hers, filling her mouth, her soul, the empty places in her heart.
She was mindless to her surroundings. The noise of the beach, the children, everything else faded away—until she hit the water with a resounding splash.
The cold stopped her heart. "Damn you," she spluttered, coming up for air.
Nick held out his hands in apology. "Sorry, I forgot where we were."
"I'll just bet you did," she said, wading out of the water.
"It's true." The smile faded from his face. "You sure can kiss. I'd almost forgotten." He shook his head. "That was a mistake, I won't let it happen again."
Anger flared at his arrogant statement. "Maybe you won't have a choice next time. Maybe I'll kiss you." Good heavens, what was she saying? She clapped a hand over her mouth to stop any other stupid statements from erupting past her lips.
Nick looked amused again. "That will be the day. You don't want me, remember? Or have things changed?" Without waiting for an answer, he smiled at her. "I'm going to dry off. See ya."
"Wait a second," she called, but he'd already turned his back on her. She kicked some water at him, but it fell woefully short, and she realized that for the second time in two days he'd walked away from her. "Fine, dry off," she yelled. "See if I care."
He stopped about ten feet from her and laughed. "Oh, you care all right. Finally, you care about something. I'd rather see you mad and spitting at me than the way you were when you left all those years ago, so cold and distant like a robot. Now, you're all..." he paused, raking her body with his glance. "Now, you're all woman again. God help me." He turned and strode up the beach.
"God help both of us," she muttered as she slowly followed him back to the blanket.
* * *
"Your husband?" Jeremy repeated, as he took Maggie by the shoulders. "What are you talking about?"
"Never mind." Maggie tried to slip away from him, but his hands tightened around her arms.
"Don't you think it's time you told me the truth? You think your husband is having an affair with Serena, don't you?"
"Sort of." She took a breath. "My husband died in a fire almost a year ago."
"He died? I don't understand. You just said--"
"About two weeks ago, I received a letter from Serena. It made me suspicious of everything that had happened. I thought if I could just ask her how she knew him, I could let it all go."
Jeremy pulled her over to the sofa so they could both sit down. "Start at the beginning. If your husband is dead, why did you panic when I told you Serena was meeting a long lost friend in San Francisco?"
Maggie felt foolish for even considering a confession. She would sound like an idiot. "I—forget it. I don't know why I reacted that way."
"Yes, you do. Tell me."
"I can't," she whispered.
His expression turned serious. "You can trust me. Crystal. Don't you know that yet?"
Obviously she didn't, since she hadn't yet told him her name was Maggie. Still, it would be nice to tell someone, especially someone she would never see again. So what if he thought she was crazy? What did it matter?
It mattered because she liked him, because he seemed interested in her. She hated to see all that disappear, and she knew it would when she told him what she really thought.
"Okay," Jeremy said. "Let me guess."
"You couldn't."
"I've got a good imagination. Your husband died, and although you used to think he was faithful, now you think he was having an affair with Serena. And there's something else. Something that happened that's made you doubt other things about him, about your life together." He paused. "Lastly, you suspect that he might still be alive."
"You are good," she said with amazement.
"All that plotting experience," he said, settling back on the sofa.
Maggie turned, suddenly eager to discuss her theory with him. Maybe he could make sense of it. "Okay, what would you think if a man increased the terms of his life insurance policy two months before his death, made a large cash withdrawal only twenty-four hours before his death and then received a letter from a strange woman asking him if he was still planning to meet her as he'd promised?"
Jeremy stared at her for a long moment, his eyes speculative, considering. "I'd think something was going on."
"Then you don't think I'm crazy?"
"No."
Maggie couldn't help the sigh of relief. "There's something else, Jeremy. They never found Keith's body. There was an explosion, a chemical fire deep within a lab. They found..." She stumbled over the gruesome details, but knew she had to get them out. "They found bits of bones and some teeth, fragments of Keith's shirt. But not a body. The firemen said the force of the explosion, the chemical makeup of the fire was so strong that the body was basically incinerated." She shook her head. "I'm probably just grasping at straws."
"Maybe you are," Jeremy took her hand in his. "Maybe you want him to be alive so much you're imagining everything else. Did you love him?"
"Yes, very much. We were happy. At least I thought we were. After he died, I tried not to think about the money and everything, but then I got that letter from Serena, and I knew I had to find out the answer to at least one of my questions."
"Makes sense to me. So, are you going to San Francisco?"
"I shouldn't."
"That's not what I asked."
She smiled. "You already know the answer, don't you?"
"Want some company?"
She looked into his eyes and saw the same look of desire she'd seen the day before. "Why?"
In reply, he cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. The warmth of his mouth, the persuasion of his lips, the seductive scent of his aftershave drew Maggie in like a moth to a flame. He was a stranger. His face was so different from Keith's, his skin rough and sexy, his lips demanding, his arms pressing her close to him. His body felt right—yet wrong. His jeans pressed against her bare legs—jeans, not a suit.
The sensations hit her in waves as desire raced through her body. She liked the way Jeremy kissed her, the way his hands caressed her back, spreading across her waist until his fingertips glanced lightly against her breasts. She suddenly wanted him in her mouth, in her body, in a completely lustful, sexual way that shocked the hell out of her.
"Oh, God," she murmured, breaking away from him. "What am I doing?" She jumped to her feet. "I have to go. I have to..." She didn't know what she had to do. She could barely remember her own name. Was it Crystal or was it Maggie? She put her hands to her face, feeling the heat in her cheeks. "This is getting complicated."
Jeremy stood up, desire darkening his eyes. "It's simple really. I'm attracted to you. You're attracted to me."
"But I'm married."
"Are you?"
"I might be," she whispered, putting a hand to her mouth.
"Whatever happened, whether he's dead or he left you, he's still gone. You're still alone."
Maggie took in a deep breath as his sharp words hit home.
"That was pretty blunt. You don't know anything about me, Jeremy."
"Then tell me about you. Tell me on the way to San Francisco."
"I can't go with you."
"I won't hurt you. I won't even touch you again, not unless you ask me to."
"That's the problem. I have a feeling I might ask you to," she said with complete honesty.
He smiled. "You're a lousy flirt."
"I haven't had a lot of practice." She paused. "Jeremy, I haven't been single in a very long time. I don't know how to date, or how to play the games that men and women play these days. I don't mean those kind of games," she quickly amended as he began to grin.
"Too bad."
"I'm serious," she said, w
ith a gentle slap on his arm.
"Far too serious." He drew a line down her cheek with his finger. "Just relax. This isn't a movie. You don't have to remember your lines. You don't have to be someone you're not. Just be you."
She tried one last argument. "Jeremy, if Keith is alive, I don't know what I'll do."
"Why don't we leave that for when it happens, if it happens?" He walked over to the phone. "I'll call the airport and check the flights. I assume you want to leave as soon as possible."
"Yes."
He picked up the phone, then paused. "Shall I make the reservation for Crystal—or someone else?"
Chapter Eleven
When Lisa and Nick returned to Maggie's house with a carful of weary children and a droopy dog, they found Silvia and Lisa's great-aunt Carmela waiting on the porch. Silvia was dressed like a rainbow, in a long red skirt and a bright white peasant blouse that set off the trio of necklaces she wore around her neck. Carmela, Silvia's aunt, went to the other extreme of dress, a long-sleeve black knit dress that hung loosely on her thin frame and touched the tops of a pair of serviceable black leather shoes. Men's shoes, Lisa thought, both pleased and bothered by the familiar sight.
"Looks like we have company," Nick said with a wry smile.
"Looks like."
Nick turned off the engine. "What do you think they want?"
"Probably a big black cauldron and some rat's toes or something like that."
"Rat's toes?" Dylan echoed in amazement.
"A very important ingredient in magic potions," Nick said solemnly.
"Cool," Dylan replied.
"I am not having anything to do with some diseased, disgusting little rat," Roxy declared.
"I like mice," Mary Bea added. "They're not cooking a mouse, are they?"
"No. No. It was a joke," Lisa explained.
Nick laughed as Lisa tried to work her way out of her impulsive comment.
"I was kidding," she added, "Why don't you three go on up and say hello? Nick and I will be right there."
"Grandma Silvia says your great-aunt Carmela makes magic," Dylan said, as he slid out of the car.
"Can she pull a rabbit out of a hat?" Mary Bea asked.
"She can't pull much of anything out of anything," Lisa replied. "But be nice to her. She's old."
"She's also scary," Nick muttered as Mary Bea joined her brother and sister on the porch. "I'm going to drop you off, I have some work to do. I'll be back later."
"Chicken."
"Hey, she threatened to curse me into eternity when you left. Or turn me into a toad."
"That might have been an improvement."
"Ha. Ha."
Lisa smiled. "You don't really believe she could turn you into a toad, do you? This is a woman who still hand-washes her clothes because she can't figure out how to use her washing machine."
"I don't feel like taking any chances. She always looks at me like she knows something I don't."
Lisa looked at the two women sitting on the porch, who were a big part of her family. Her grandparents had died when she was a child. Silvia's brother had returned to Mexico shortly after he married, and Silvia's sister had followed her army husband to Texas, leaving Silvia, Carmela and Lisa were pretty much on their own in San Diego. They had shared a town house, and Carmela had often watched Lisa when she was a child, allowing Silvia to work.
Although Lisa knew that both her mother and Carmela loved her, she had always felt out of place with them. Her mother was flamboyant, loud and gregarious, while Carmela was mysterious, dark and moody. Lisa had never known what to expect upon entering her home.
As a child she'd been deeply embarrassed by her family. She'd never brought anyone home, because she'd always felt so different, not just because she didn't have a father, although that was part of it, but because Silvia and Carmela could be so odd.
Of course, Maggie and Nick and the whole Maddux family had found Silvia and even Carmela at times to be delightful. Or at least they'd always pretended to think that way. Maybe it had been for her benefit.
Lisa glanced at Nick, who also seemed lost in thought. Then he turned his head and caught her eye. "What did you do with the bracelet?" he asked abruptly.
"It's in my purse. Why?"
"I never would have believed the bracelet would bring you home." He shook his head. "Yet here you are."
"I came because of Maggie, not because of the bracelet."
"Yeah. But why did Maggie leave so suddenly? Why did she call you? She has other friends in town she could have asked. Hell, she could have asked me."
"I think she tried. You weren't home. The bracelet is just a bracelet, Nick. If it was magic, do you really think our baby would have died?''
Nick didn't have an answer to that.
"I better say hello." Lisa got out of the car but hesitated before shutting the door. "Are you sure you have to go?"
"Yeah, I'll catch up with you later. I need to check out some things at my store."
"It can't wait until tomorrow?" She felt like a complete coward, but she could see from here that Carmela was in one of her intense moods. In fact, she hadn't stopped staring at the car since they'd pulled in the driveway.
Nick raised an eyebrow. "You actually want me to spend more time with you?"
"Not with me, with the kids and my mother and my aunt."
"So you don't need me at all?"
"Me? Of course not."
"Liar." He smiled wickedly. "If you'd told me the truth, I would have stayed." He leaned over, pulled her door shut and backed out of the driveway.
Great. He was leaving again. She was getting damn tired of watching him leave.
"Lisa. Lisa," her mother waved. "Come on up. I have some interesting news to tell you."
Lisa walked slowly up to the house, wishing the children hadn't already disappeared inside. She had a feeling that whatever reason had brought Silvia and her aunt to the house was not going to be to her liking. Still, she dutifully kissed her aunt on the cheek. "Hello, Aunt Carmela. How are you?"
The elderly woman studied her in silence. Lisa tried to stare back without feeling intimidated, but Aunt Carmela, with her black hair, black eyes and long pointed nose, had always reminded her of the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz.
"Carmela," Silvia encouraged. "Tell Lisa your news."
Carmela hesitated. Then she pointed to the tree at the side of the yard. A small bird hopped along one branch as if called forth by some secret call. A robin. Another damn robin.
"I know, the birds are back," Lisa said. "But that has nothing to do with anything." She took a deep breath. "I'm getting married in less than a month, Aunt Carmela. You have to accept that. So do you, Mother," she added pointedly.
Carmela shook her head, her hand shaky as she reached up to stroke the crystal she wore around her neck. "You came home. You should not have done that if you wished to marry someone else."
"I came home because my friend needed a break."
Carmela's eyes appeared even more troubled. "Your friend, Margaret. She—she is confused."
Lisa felt a tingle run down her spine in spite of her disbelief in Carmela's predictions. "What do you mean?"
"She is embarking on a journey--"
"She's coming back this afternoon."
"No. She will not be back for a while. And she may not come back alone."
"Who? What?" Lisa shook her head. She couldn't believe she was getting sucked into her great-aunt's mystical world. "Never mind. I don't want to know. I'm sure Maggie will come home as soon as she can."
"I'm not sure if she will even make the celebration," Carmela continued.
"What celebration?" Lisa asked suspiciously, trying to catch her mother's gaze, but her mother seemed more interested in plucking a piece of lint off her skirt.
Carmela leaned heavily on the cane that had been her constant companion for more than thirty years. Lisa was never quite sure if she really needed it to walk, or if she used it more as a prop. But it wo
uld have been disrespectful to do anything but put a hand out to steady Carmela as she adjusted her weight.
"Dia de los Muertos—the celebration of the dead,'' Carmela said finally.
"That's in November," she said, stiffening.
"No, we have a special day for Robin, the anniversary of her death. Next Sunday, it will be eight years."
"No, absolutely not." Lisa was horrified by the thought of celebrating her baby's death. She knew all about Dia de los Muertos. She'd celebrated the holy day many times with her mother and her aunt, but it had never meant anything to her. She had never known the people who had died. This would be different. This would hurt.
"It is necessary to honor those who have gone before us. You have missed the other celebrations, but you are here now. You will stay." Carmela's voice allowed no argument.
Lisa looked at her mother, finding at least compassion in Silvia's eyes. "I can't."
"We just talk about her, Lisa, about who she was--" Silvia began.
"Who she was?" Lisa asked incredulously. "She wasn't anybody. She died before she had a chance to be anything. What on earth is there to talk about?"
"Her smile. The sounds she made. What made her happy. The little things. Then we talk about our family, about those who have also passed on, who are with her now. It can be very comforting. I know when my grandmother died, I found it to be a lovely tribute."
All Lisa could think about was the pain the memories would bring. And what was the point? It wouldn't change anything. She simply couldn't do it. "I won't be here next Sunday. I have to go back to work as soon as Maggie returns."
"Don't you think it's odd that Maggie called you this weekend, so close to the anniversary of Robin's death?" Silvia asked.
"It's a coincidence."
"And the robins have come back to San Diego this weekend," Silvia added.
"Another coincidence. It is spring."
"Open your eyes before it is too late," Carmela said.
"It's already too late. It has been for a long time."
Silvia pursed her lips. "You are so stubborn. But come, let us go inside. Carmela and I will cook for you and the children and for Nick. He will be back, si?"
Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 15
