* * *
As Lisa left the kitchen, Nick walked over to the window and looked out at the backyard. He knew what was coming, and it didn't take more than a minute.
"You still love her, don't you?" his mother asked, as she joined him by the counter.
He shook his head, but he could see the disbelief in her eyes.
"Oh, Nick. I'm sorry."
"I don't love her," he denied, because it was what he was supposed to say. You weren't supposed to love a woman who'd walked out on you at the darkest moment of your life.
Kathy put her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. "You two were so in love. I used to envy you."
"Why would you envy us?"
"Because you reminded me of the way I used to feel when your father and I first met."
"Yeah, but you lasted, we didn't," he said, his voice suddenly so tight he could barely say the words.
"We didn't go through what you did." She straightened up and looked him in the eye. "You and Lisa were both very young when Robin died. Heavens, Lisa was still breast-feeding. Her hormones were going crazy. I never held her responsible for the way she acted then. She didn't know what she was doing."
"Yeah, well my hormones were just fine, so what was my excuse?" He shook his head in self-recrimination. "I had no excuse."
"You were hurting, Nick. Drinking was not the answer, but you were so overwhelmed with pain that you couldn't handle the real world." She paused. "You have a great depth of love. When you commit yourself to someone, you go all the way, no holding back. You give everything you have to give. When you lost Robin, you lost a big part of yourself. When Lisa ran away, she took the rest."
"Well, I won't make that mistake again."
"That's what I'm afraid of. You haven't been serious with anyone since Lisa. I don't want you to end up alone, Nick, without a wife, without children."
"Maybe I'm better off without children. I certainly couldn't protect the one I had."
"That's the hardest part about being a parent, accepting that you can't protect your children from getting hurt. You can take all the precautions in the world and worry yourself like crazy, but each individual comes to this world with a life to live, no matter how long or how good or how scary it might be. We give our children life, but sometimes we forget that they're the ones who actually have to live that life."
Nick smiled and gave his mother a hug. "Thanks."
"Here's another bit of advice," she said. "Lisa's not married yet."
"Do I have a sign on my back that says sucker?"
"No, it says stubborn fool. You still love her. And she's here."
"Because of Maggie, not because of me."
"So what?" She waved her hand in the air. "You've got a second chance. Take it. If you don't, I think you'll regret it more than anything else that's happened.”
He was afraid she might be right. "I'll think about it."
"Good. Now what are we going to do about Maggie?"
"You just said children have to live their own lives. How come you're giving me advice and worrying about Maggie?"
"Oh, shut up and give me another cookie. On second thought, give me the whole plate. I need something to do while we wait for Maggie to call."
Nick handed his mother the plate of cookies, then looked over at the phone and willed it to ring. It remained ominously silent.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lisa wasn't baby-sitting, she was hosting a family reunion, she thought wearily as she brewed another pot of coffee. Kathy and Bill refused to go home until Maggie called. Silvia and Carmela had arrived just before five to check on Mary Bea, and they'd all ordered out for pizza before Lisa could think of suggesting that anyone go home.
Now it was after eight and there was still no call from Maggie. What the hell was her friend doing? Maggie had been gone a long time, and this business about Keith was unsettling. There was no way he could be alive. No one could have survived the fire.
"My father wants to know if there are any cookies left," Nick said as he entered the kitchen. "Your Aunt Carmela wants to know if we have any mint tea and your mother-- ''
Lisa held up a hand. "Do they think this is a restaurant?"
"Yes. And we're the waiters."
"They're treating us like children. Have you noticed that? I swear my mother gives Roxy more respect than she gives me. Lisa, dear, are you sure you told the pizza man how to get to the house?" she mimicked.
Nick laughed. "My father suggested I didn't know how to work the remote control because I couldn't find golf on any one of two hundred and sixty-seven channels. Can you imagine?"
"You do not know how to work a remote control? Is the man nuts? You are the master. The grand master.”
"Okay, that's enough."
She smiled. "So when are they leaving?"
"They're not."
"What do you mean, they're not?"
"My mother says she's not going anywhere until Maggie calls. Roxy graciously offered my mother her bed, and Dylan suggested my father take the bed in his room and he'd sleep on the floor. You'll notice that Dylan never offered to do that for me."
"I guess you don't rate. I should just give them Maggie's bed. Then they could sleep together. After all, they're still on their honeymoon."
"I know. My father actually kissed my mother when she handed him some pizza." Nick shook his head in bemusement. "It's crazy."
Lisa couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. "It's nice. They're still in love after all these years."
"I guess. Kind of sappy."
Nick sighed as his father shouted for his coffee. "That's it. We're out of here."
Lisa looked at him in surprise. "We can't just leave. The children..."
"There are more baby-sitters here than there are children."
"Mary Bea is still weak," Lisa protested, although it was halfhearted. Getting out of the house was the best idea she'd heard all day.
"Mary Bea is propped up like a princess in the living room with six people seeing to her every whim. Her fever is gone. She has no more stomach ache, and my mother and your mother know more about taking care of kids than we do." Nick sent her a wheedling smile. "Come on, let's go. We'll sneak out the back."
"My purse is in the other room."
"I'll pay."
"We should at least leave a note."
"Fine." Nick grabbed a piece of paper off Maggie's To Do list and scribbled the words "Back later, Nick." Then he took Lisa by the hand and pulled her out the door before she could think of another reason to say no.
They snuck down the side yard like thieves in the night, or at least like two runaway teenagers. Unfortunately, they had to pass very close to the living room window, and Nick paused as they heard his mother ask his father to close the window. They were literally trapped, because to move on the crunchy leaves would only draw attention to themselves. To stay might mean discovery if Nick's father happened to look out the window.
Suddenly the situation struck Lisa as funny, and she couldn't help the giggle that snuck past her lips. Nick put his hand over her mouth.
"Sh-sh," he said. "They'll hear you."
Lisa bit down on her lip to prevent another laugh. Heavens, she hadn't had this much fun in years.
Bill pulled the window down halfway, but he didn't bother to look outside. "Is that better, dear?"
"Yes, sweet 'ems," Kathy said in a cooing voice. "You're a darling. Come here and give me a kiss."
"Oh, God, I might just be sick," Nick muttered. "I don't know who those people are in that house, but they are not my parents."
"They're honeymooners."
"Who have been married for forty years. Come on, let's go, before they start looking for us."
They dashed across the lawn to the driveway and slipped into Nick's car. He put the car in neutral and rolled down to the edge of the driveway, not turning on the ignition or hitting the lights until they were as far away from the house as possible.
As they turned the corner and headed toward the highway, Lisa let out a sigh of relief. "We've escaped."
"And not a moment too soon." He flung her a quick glance. "So, where do you want to go? And don't you dare say L.A."
"Anywhere, Nick. Surprise me."
"All right. I will."
* * *
Los Angeles was the last place she wanted to go.
How could she marry Raymond, knowing she still had feelings for Nick? How could she act on those feelings when she knew she and Nick could have no future together? She wouldn't go down that road again. She couldn't. It was too frightening.
But how could she marry a man without loving him the way she'd loved Nick? Was that fair to Raymond? Didn't he deserve more?
She could be a good wife. But could she be a great wife? Could she give Raymond everything he needed and still protect herself from getting hurt?
She looked out the window at the dark night, the lights of the passing cars. She'd been worrying about marrying Raymond for far longer than the past few days. That's why she'd resisted hiring the wedding consultant and had insisted on doing the invitations herself, because she had wanted to control what was happening—maybe even stop it if she had to.
The wedding invitations were still sitting in Maggie's house. How could she send them out with so much unsettled in her mind? She looked down at the ring on her finger and twisted it with her hand. It felt heavy, pretentious and wrong. Slipping it off, she stuck it in the pocket of her jeans, even though it seemed sacrilegious to stick a two-carat diamond in a denim pocket. But without the ring on her finger, she felt lighter, better, less anxious.
Glancing at Nick, she caught him watching her. She waited for him to comment, but after a moment, he turned his attention back to the road. Ten minutes later, he turned off the main highway and drove down the street that lined one of the harbors at Mission Bay.
She thought they were going to a restaurant. But when she stepped out of the car, Nick led her toward the boats.
"Where are we going?" she asked, suddenly wary of the look in his eyes, the purpose in his step.
Nick took her hand. "It's not far."
She followed him down the pier, until they stopped in front of a sailboat. "Whose boat is this?"
"It's mine." He pointed to the bow, where something was written.
She took a step closer so she could read the words. "Blue Eyes,"' she said out loud. Her heart thudded against her chest. "You named your boat after Frank Sinatra?"
Nick laughed. "No, I named it after you, Blue Eyes."
"Oh, Nick. Why?"
"Because I missed you." He closed the gap between them, drawing her into his arms, threading his hands through her hair so she had to tilt her head and look at him. "I missed the way you made me laugh, the way you made me want to play the most seductive music I could find because you always made love to me afterwards. I missed the way we could read each other's thoughts without even trying, finish each other's sentences, eat half our dinners, then swap plates." His voice turned husky. "I missed my best friend."
Her eyes filled with tears. "I missed you, too—the music, the laughs, all the secrets we told each other. I've never been as open with anyone as I was with you."
He kissed her on the mouth with tenderness that immediately rose to passion. Her best friend became her lover with one long, tingling kiss.
"Would you like to see the rest of the boat?" Nick asked. "I think you'll like it."
"Yes." She answered one question aloud, the other with her eyes. "Just don't—don't let me think too much," she whispered.
"Honey, the last thing I want you to do is think."
He helped her on board, but didn't bother to point out anything but the stairs that led to the galley, and her brief view of that was cut off by the sudden descent of Nick's head, blocking out everything in her vision but him, his green eyes, his curly hair, his strong, wonderful face.
She cupped his face with her hands and smiled at him. He smiled back, but didn't move. Now that they were alone together, he seemed oddly hesitant. It was her turn to step forward. Nick had brought her this far. She had to take them the rest of the way. If she dared.
The boat rocked lazily in the water, the slippery motion making her only that much more dizzy with desire and need. Nick turned her world upside down. He overwhelmed her senses. He made her feel things that scared the hell out of her, because they were so deep, so personal, so private.
If she made love to him now, Nick would take everything she had to give. He wouldn't let her hide behind the walls she'd built, and she would risk losing everything she'd worked so hard to attain—her independence, her resolve to move forward.
"You're thinking," Nick muttered. "We can't have that."
He kissed her on the cheek, trailing his lips across her face to her ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth, until she shuddered. He pulled her shirt out of her jeans and slid his hands up the bare skin of her stomach, raising goose bumps in his wake.
She tensed as his hands grazed her breasts, as his fingers teased the skin above her bra and all the while his mouth moved slowly down her neck until she closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her.
The want was too powerful, the need too strong to be denied. His mouth left her skin and she felt a rush of unwelcome cold, the silence of a chilling question. She opened her eyes and saw Nick watching her, desire firing his eyes, but control steadying his hands as they slipped to her waist.
She answered him the only way she could. She started with the top button on her blouse and slipped it through the hole, then moved down to the next one and the next. Nick followed each move with his eyes—his hungry, starving eyes.
She suddenly felt in control, powerful, and wanted. When she finished with the buttons, she slipped the blouse off her shoulders and stood before him in a lacy black bra. She moved to undo the front hook.
Nick stopped her with his hand. "Let me." He undid the clasp and slowly opened the bra.
"Oh, God," she whispered. "I feel like I'm about to fall off of a cliff."
"Don't fall." He looked into her eyes. "Jump."
She drew in a breath, then let her bra fall to the floor.
Nick's hands covered her breasts, followed by his mouth, moving greedily from one breast to the other, arousing her senses, until she wanted to sink to the floor and pull him on top of her, inside of her.
Suddenly impatient, she reached for him, for the edges of his T-shirt.
He lifted his head long enough to pull the shirt off, then pressed his chest against hers as he kissed her with a powerful longing that was both familiar and new, raising the old feelings of desire along with new feelings of passion that had come of age.
She mirrored every move he made, delighting in the feel of his rough chest against her soft breasts. When he drew circles around her nipples, she drew circles around his. When his hand dropped to the snap on her jeans, she did the same to his, until they were moving in a beautiful, perfect duet.
Her jeans hit the floor just a second before his. Her panties fell on top of his boxers, and finally they were totally naked, skin to skin in every wicked curve and secret corner of their bodies.
She was hot and ready. He was hard and ready.
He slipped his hands between her thighs. She cupped his buttocks, then slid her hands around to the front, to stroke the long, silky length of him, until Nick impatiently pushed her down on the bed.
"Too much," he muttered.
"Not enough," she said. "More." And she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back for another kiss.
Nick sank his tongue into her mouth, while his fingers slid down her body once again, delving into the curls at her thigh, touching and caressing until she moved her hips restlessly on the bed.
Nick raised his head. "You want me."
It wasn't a question, but she answered him anyway. "I want you."
He parted her legs and entered her in one powerful thrust that took h
er breath away. It was the past and the present. It was nothing and everything blending together. They were young, they were old. Their bodies and their souls recognized each other and welcomed the reunion. And when Nick went over the edge, she went right along with him, falling, falling, falling.
He caught her the way he always had. His arms tightened around her, his mouth comforted her with a kiss, as her heart slowed down and her mind came back to earth.
Nick rolled onto his back, taking her with him, until her head rested on his chest and her arm fell across his waist. His hand stroked her back. His breath blew through her hair, and she felt loved.
The boat rocked gently on the water as silence covered the cabin like a warm blanket.
She didn't know if Nick was as afraid of conversation as she was, but they both remained silent, and Nick held her as tightly as she held him. There was love in the small cabin. There was also fear. Because she didn't know what came next, and she had a feeling Nick didn't either.
Chapter Twenty-Two
"I don't know what to do," Maggie declared. She got up from her seat on the couch in the lobby of the Crestmoor Hotel. They'd spent half the day watching the elevator doors, hoping to catch Serena and Keith on their way out, but they hadn't caught even a glimpse of them. "We have just spent hours doing nothing. Do you realize that?"
"Actually, I've been writing. You've been watching the elevator," Jeremy replied.
"Yeah, and a lot of good it's done me. I don't think I'm cut out for stakeouts." Maggie frowned as she glanced at the notebook he'd been scribbling in off and on all day. "What is your book about anyway? A woman looking for her supposedly dead husband?"
"Maybe."
"You can't write about me."
"It's fiction. Maggie. Relax, it's not about you. I was kidding. I love it when you get mad. Your eyes take on this fiery glow."
Maggie sent him a disgusted look. "I'm hungry, I'm tired and I'm cranky. The only two people who haven't gotten off those elevators are Serena and Keith. They're probably in their room having an orgy of sex. I would give anything to find out their room number."
Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 26
