Its hard to believe you mean thatabout being antimarriage. Maybe the odds of a couple staying together arent too hot today. And just having been through a divorce, I get a case of hives even thinking about wedding rings again. But you must have been tempted to get married sometime. And if you want kids...
I want kids. But Id never get married just for that reason. Theres no stigma against being a single mom these days. Obviously the situation is better for a child with both a mom and dad, but a ring doesnt guarantee that.
He argued with her. A damn silly argument, considering that nobody knew better than him how little a ring guaranteed. But it was fun, bickering the pros and cons of marriage back and forth with her. Eventually they moved off marriage and tried out an argument about politicsno way they could agree on anything there; she was a flaming do-gooder liberal, which he could have guessed. But they werent really fighting. She kept laughing, and making him laugh. She had a hatful of free-spirited wild ideas about life and love and everything else. Josh couldnt begin to guess if she was serious, nor did it matter. For the first time in forever, he wasnt thinking about work or bills or kids or when he was going to find time to change the oil on his Bronco.
But damn. When his gaze accidentally flickered to the dials on his watch, he almost had a stroke. How could he possibly have been there two hours?
He lurched to his feet faster than a bee-stung bear. Damn. I didnt realize how late it was. And I never meant to take up your whole evening.
I didnt mind. I enjoyed talking with you.
Yeah...I enjoyed it, too. Belatedly he realized how true that was, how much fun hed had over the past two hours...and it worried him.
Ariel trailed him into the blue-and-white kitchen. Ill get your jacket. Hopefully itll be dry by now. She glanced out the black windows. Its still drizzling, but I havent heard a boomer in a while. Looks like the worst of the storm finally passed.
She fetched his denim jacket from the minuscule entryway and held it up with a smile.
Thanks, he said. It only took a second to put on his boots and yank on the jacket. Then he meant to reach for the doorknob and go. There was no reason his leaving her had to be complicated.
But somehow he found himself still standing there. Close to her. Awkwardly close. In her bare feet, she reached his nose in height. With the sink light behind her, her delicate features were less shadowed than simply softened, blurred. Feminine scents seemed to surround her. Not one, but a blendmango from her shampoo, and peach from the hand cream hed seen her reach for, and yeah, he could catch an exotic spice from the perfume where her skin was warm. Her skin looked real, real warm.
When hed first walked in, his tongue had been tangled somewhere near the roof of his mouth. Studying her over the evening, hed seen she was pale. Too pale. And she had a plain old ordinary chin. Discovering those imperfections had been a relief. No way a guy could have a normal conversation with his personal Christie Brinkley fantasy. But she wasnt that now. The legs, the body, the sultry green eyesit was all still there, all just as distracting. But somehow over the evening shed become...real.
And she looked at him, impossibly, as if she found him real, too. Youre not really going to ground Killer for the rest of her life, are you? she queried.
I havent a clue what Im gonna do with her, he admitted dryly. But thanks...for not being mad about her taking those things. And just...for listening.
No problem, she said lightly.
Well...good night.
Good night, she returned.
He reached for the door. So did she. Their hands brushed, making them both chuckle.
They both jumped back to give the other room, making them both chuckle again.
And then their eyes met. And the most confounding thing happened.
Three
All evening, Josh had the weird sensation that it was wicked and wrong to be alone with her. His six-year-old was having trouble handling the temptation of Ariels magic. He wasnt afraid of crystal balls or card tricks, but yeah, he was uncomfortably aware that the lady had some kind of magic. Dangerous magic, because she sure as hell seemed to have cast some kind of spell on him.
For that reason alone, he never meant to kiss her. Hed have sworn in court that neither the thought nor intent was remotely on his mind. And a guy was supposed to be able to count on those handy physics laws of the universelike the relationship between fire and fuel. If nobody lit a match, nobody had to worry about the repercussions of starting a blaze.
There were no matches in sight. There was just an instantan innocent instantwhen they were standing together in her shadowed doorway. Her face was tilted up to his. He was wearing his denim jacket, ready to leave, his hand even on the doorknob. Their eyes met. It couldnt have been for more than a millisecond. Nobody made a soul connection in a millisecond. For cripes sake, Josh didnt even believe in hoaxy ethereal stuff like soul connections.
But something happened. Something insane. Something that made it feel perfectly natural to lift his hand to gently touch her cheek. When she turned her head, he bent down, as if they already naturally knew the steps to this dance. When their lips met, though, there was nothing natural about the kiss.
Her lips were softer than butter. Softer than spring. Her eyes turned this smoky misty green, and then they closed, as if inhaling the texture of this sensation was all she could concentrate on. She tasted sweet, and to kiss her small mouth, her lips, was like sliding on silk.
Hormones. His mind lanced on the word, seeking excuses and explanations for an explosion of emotion that had no such simple reason. Yeah, his whole body tightened from the chemical connection. And below his belt, he knew exactly what she was doing to him.
But that crazy, wild kiss had nothing of lust in it. It was a lost kiss. A testing, tentative, beguiling acknowledgment of longing and loneliness.
Hed never denied being lonely; it was just supposed to be a back-burner item, a problem hed take out and deal with after the kids were grown and he had time for it. Only, she put it on his table right now. How many nights hed been alone. How fiercely he missed believing there would ever be someone to talk to, be with. How rich, how heady, how mountain-tall a man could feel with a woman who cared about him.
He wasnt used to richesnot extravagant, expensive, luxurious riches like her. Her silk rustled alluringly against his denim. His callused hands seemed an impossible contrast against her pearl skin. The pulse was beating hard in her throat. Hard, but not fast. The whole world had tuned down to slow motion, as if life had been kind enough to give them both a time-out, and nothing existed, not at this moment, but the two of them and a kiss that neither of them could seem to let go of.
Hed wondered how that long hair would feel sifting through his hands. Now he knew. Dangerous. A mans fingers could get lost in those long, shivery strands and never come out. Her hands clutched his jacket and then slid, softly and slowly, around his neck.
Somewhere, he could smell blueberry muffins. Somewhere, he could hear a clock ticking. Somewhere, a coat hook was stabbing him directly between the shoulder blades, and it was extremely odd, but he didnt give a damn. She was kissing him back as though she hadnt met a man who mattered to her in the past four, five thousand years. His instincts pitched back to the caveman era, but even accounting for those primitive, prehistoric male emotions, he knew damn well hed never kissed anyone like her. The crush of her plump breasts made him feel hot and violently protective at the same time. Her skin warmed under his touchwarmed and flushed. Her scent, her texture and touch, hit him like a seductive, erotic overload.
Hed wondered how that long hair would feel sifting through his hands. Now he knew. Dangerous. A mans fingers could get lost in those long, shivery strands and never come out. Her hands clutched his jacket and then slid, softly and slowly, around his neck.
Somewhere, he could smell blueberry muffins. Somewhere, he could hear a clock ticking. Somewhere, a coat hook was stabbing him directly between the shoulder blades, and it was extremely odd, but he didnt give a damn. She was kissing him back as though she hadnt met a man who mattered to her in the past four, five thousand years. His instincts pitched back to the caveman era, but even accounting for those primitive, prehistoric male emotions, he knew damn well hed never kissed anyone like her. The crush of her plump breasts made him feel hot and violently protective at the same time. Her skin warmed under his touchwarmed and flushed. Her scent, her texture and touch, hit him like a seductive, erotic overload.
He tried to gulp in oxygen.
There wasnt a lick of air in the whole room.
She tried to gulp in air, too, then raised her eyes and smiled at him as if she were waking from some dream. Josh?
He wasnt sure what she was asking. Her voice was husky, low, shy. Hurtable, he recognized. Never mind her sensual feminine lair and her antimarriage rhetoric and the free spirit implied by her walking around in pajamas. She didnt do this every day.
Hell, neither did he.
It took a second to untangle his hands from her hair, to smooth a strand away from her face, to brush his lips against her brow. The kiss was a gesture of comfort, not apology. He couldnt apologize for something he wasnt sorry for. But he also couldnt talk about something he couldnt explain.
She seemed to understand, seemed in no mood for conversation, either, because she smiled at him just before he turned around and pulled open the door.
Outside, a cool drizzling rain was still falling. He yanked up his collar and headed down the slick, wet metal steps. Smells drifted off the Connecticut River; a passing car swished water from a puddle, but that was the only sound. The whole town was dark and quiet. The white steeple of the Congregational Church and pointed rooftops were familiar landmarks, everything washed and clean this night. Rainbows haloed under the street lamps as he climbed into the cool, damp seat of the Bronco. He lifted up to filch the key from his jeans pocket and started the engine.
And then he took a breath. It seemed the first lungful of real oxygen hed had since being with her.
For some crazy reason, that spellbound feeling didnt want to go away. Josh had no patience or belief in fairy dust. He didnt exactly mind a singular, temporary, short, one-shot excursion into insanity...surely any guy was entitled? Every male human being had fantasies from the day he reached puberty, but he never expected to actually experience one. Ariel. Hell. If all those looks and sensuality and sex appeal werent enough to knock a guy to his knees, her openness and giving nature, the way she listened as if he were the only man in the universeand yeah, the way she kissedwere enough to rattle any man.
Of course he was shook up.
It was okay that he was shook up. No reason to panic. It was probably underlined and italicized in the guys rule book somewhereany male exposed to Ariel Lindstrom who was not shook up should probably run, not walk, to a doctor for an immediate physical.
It was just that nothing like that had ever happened to him before.
He turned at the light, cruised Maple for a block, then traveled up the hill into his little burb. If it hadnt been storming earlier, hed have walked to her shop. The drive didnt take five minutes.
The kids had left the lights on. In factno surprise, with him goneevery window in the house was ablaze with lights. The months electric bill was gonna be a monster. He swiped a hand over his face as he locked the Bronco and loped to the back door. It was coming back. Sanity. Slowly, too slowly, but logic and common sense had never deserted Josh for long.
A moments craziness was understandable, even acceptable. As long as a guy didnt mistake it for reality.
The reality was that he had three troubled kids, a work and life schedule that blitzed any free time, and a mess of a divorce behind him. What would she want with a ready-made household of trouble, dirty towels, dishes and a kleptomaniac squirt? No way, nohow, could he picture Ariel fitting in. No way could he picture any sane woman wanting to.
He was in no position to ask any woman in his life.
And that was that.
* * *
Hed call. Ariel was sure hed call. The secret, heady, champagne-high feeling of anticipation lasted for three days.
She never expected anything monumental. She never hadnot from men or relationships. All her life shed been an enthusiastic defender of magic, but that was never because she couldnt tell the difference between fantasy and reality. She had no faith in forevers, but a body could still seekand reach forthose rare and real magical moments in life.
The evening with Josh had been magical. Special. There was no doubt in her mind that he felt the same way. Theyd talked as easily and naturally as kindred spirits. Hed looked so stiff and tired when he first walked in, but shed slowly watched him unbend, unfold, relax. Other men had looked at her with desire, but shed never sensed a predator-and-prey feeling with Josh. The excitement hed inspired had been wicked and nerve tingling, but not really threatening. Shed never have gone in his arms if she were afraid of him. She never remembered experiencing a kiss quite like that. It was like skydiving off a star, free-falling in the darkness to a place where she felt dizzyingly protected and desired and cherished all at once.
Shed kissed her share of men in the past decade. Never had a kiss or a man felt so right. And she wasnt presuming to know Joshs feelings, but positively he couldnt have power-packed that kind of tenderness and raw emotion in an embrace if he hadnt shared some of those feelings.
Only he hadnt called the next day.
Or the next night.
Or the next day.
Three days had passed now, though, and that heady feeling of anticipation had fizzled out like too-long-uncorked champagne. Apparently shed been wrong. Embarrassingly wrong. The only one doing any emotional skydiving must have been her, because it was hurtfully obvious that he wasnt interested.
The telephone rang, but she ignored it. New stock had just arrived; she was buried neck-deep in boxes, and Dot was out front and would surely catch the call. Seconds later, though, her partners head poked around the doorway. Its for you. Mason.
Grateful for the distraction, she wiped her dusty hands on a rag and hustled for the phone. Mason, an English professor in Boston, had been her one foray into trying out a forever. Theyd lived together for three years. No different than any other relationship, that delightful spin of first love hadnt lasted, but theyd managed to call it quits and still stay friends. Good friends.
I havent heard from you in two weeks, you piker. Whatcha been up to?
Mason was up to a deliriously happy love affair with a woman named Suzanna. He wasnt getting any work done. He was losing weight, couldnt eat, had given up sleep, was having trouble remembering his own name.
This sounds wonderful. Shes really something, huh? Dragging the phone cord, Ariel reached in the back room minirefrigerator and snatched a soda. No way to open it single-handed. She trapped the receiver between her ear and shoulder, so she had both hands to flip open the lid. I dont want to hear how gorgeous she is, you doofus. Who cares. Is she nice? What does she do, howd you meet her, what kinds of things have you two been doing together...?