If hed been any less intimidating, Owen doubted theyd ever have made friends. And they werent precisely friends, more good neighbors and cosufferers in the single parent life. She knew little about his ex-wife, beyond that her name was May and shed literally dropped the baby in Spences lap and taken off on him. Hed moved here a couple years ago, motivated to find a house in a good school system and a neighborhood with kids. Chicken pox had initiated their first conversationhis April came down with it at the same time as her Josh. Spence had been beside himself and had come knocking on her door for advice.
Gwen curled up her legs, well aware that her hair was an unbrushed mop and her feet were bare. Her ex had been an overwhelming hunkRon had dominated every room he walked intobut Spence made her ex look like an untried boy. These days Gwen usually had the good sense to plaster herself against the nearest wallpaper anywhere near that type of intimidating man.
With Spence, that maestro intimidating factor iconically made him comfortable to be with. Hed seen her patchwork skirt and pink T-shirt before. Hed seen her looking like shed been through a daylong train wreck before. Talking to him had always been easy, simply because shed never suffered an ounce of nerves that he could conceivably be personally interested in her. A dazzling panther was hardly likely to notice a cookie maker and a born den mother. He could be a feast for her housewife eyes without a kernel of risk. He already knew she was a mouse. There was nothing to hide, nothing to worry about.
It wasnt the first evening hed sprawled in her lawn chair to waste a few minutes relaxing. So... you looked lost in serious thoughts when I walked up. Were those dark thoughts all for Mrs. Cox?
Nope. To be honest, I was thinking about being rsckless.
Reckless, huh? Spences smile was lazy, easy, but there seemed a sudden flash of something in his eyes. When he saw her reaching for an empty glass, he leaned over and swiftly poured her another splash of rum. Did I hear right from the kids that its your birthday today?
Yup. Three-oh.
Uh-oh. I just passed thirty-four a few months ago. That was bad enough, but those birthdays that end in zeros are always killers. Big soul-searching time, hmm?
Fraid so. In fact, it was just occurring to me that Ive made a total mess of my life. She frowned, unsure how that had just slipped out. Sharing chicken pox and carpooling dilemmas came a lot more naturally with Spence than anything seriously personal. She lifted her rum glass and then uneasily clunked it back down. Temporarily there seemed to be three full moons in the sky, two sets of swing sets in the backyard, and the expression in Spences eyes seemed deep and caring and... intimate. Almost sexily intimate.
There seemed to be a teensy bundle of evidence mounting up that shed passed her tolerance limit for rumabout two glasses ago.
Spence settled back in the shadows, but she could still feel his gaze on her face. Now whats this about making a total mess of your life? The last I noticed, you had two damned terrific kids
Yeah, I do. And I couldnt adore my monsters more. But theyre about the only thing in my life that Ive done right. For some unknown reason, her skirt had hiked up to her thighs. She leaned forward to push the material down. A terrible mistake. Even that slight movement made her head swim. The way Spence was looking at her made her blood sluice through her veins faster than a sled in the luge. She was, of course, imagining that look. For dead sure, she had fully intended to level part of that rum bottle, felt no guilt at all about it. But whod have guessed a little liquor could addle her brain this fast and this foolishly?
What is it you think youve done so wrong? he asked gently.
Everything.
Like what?
It was like a genie had opened the trapdoor on her tongue. A demon genie. Gwen was positive she never meant to answer, yet all this stupid nonsense bubbled out. I make a living as a bookkeeper. Its a good living. Only I hate working with numbers and have always hated working with numbers. I come from Vermont, but Im living in St. Augustine in a house my ex-husband built. Its a great house, and I love the whole area as far as raising kids. But I never chose that, either. He did. I cant think of one thing I ever chose to door beon my own. Even in my family. I have two fantastic sisters. The older ones a powerhouse in business, the younger one is an incredible artist. And then theres me. The mouse.
Gwen, Spence said quietly, you are not a mouse.
Yeah, I am, she said stubbornly. The words were slurring; so were the thousand thoughts catapulting through her mind. But none of that dizziness seemed to soften the truth. Ive spent thirty years letting things happen to me. Instead of standing up for myself, I just followed in the back of someone elses line. I cant even remember if or when I had any dreams or goals of my own. There just never seemed the time to figure them out. The best I can say is that Ive aced the course in responsibility.
Youve had a mountain to handle alone, Gwen. And the last I noticed, being responsible was a hell of a fine quality.
Maybe. But its tedious and boring. I feel boring. She pushed a hand through her spring-loaded curls. Even trying to talk about this is pretty ridiculous. I dont have any choices right now. My kids are everything to me, so its not like I could suddenly run off and join the circus. I dont want to join some silly circus, but darn it, Spence, Ive never done one reckless thing in my entire life.
Undoubtedly it was more of her runaway imagination, but Spence suddenly seemed immobile, sitting there utterly still. What kind of...reckless...are you thinking about?
I dont know. Just foolish stuff. Ive never tasted caviar. Never danced in the moonlight. Never done anything so wantonly indulgent as having a manicure or a massage. Never taken off on a motorcycle and just ridden with the wind on my face, not giving a damn where I was going. And men. Ive never once...
Never what? Spence prompted the instant her voice trailed off.
But no amount of that demon, sweet rum could have dulled her brain into completing that thought aloud. It was in her heart, though, an itchy, unsettling awareness that shed never known any other man but Ron, and theyd been childhood sweethearts. Shed never flirted, never been hunted and chased and romanced, never played with a grown manand for damn sure, never felt a yearning that brought her to her knees. She doubted that feeling existed outside her dreamsand her dreams had been dominated by less-than-reputable fantasies lately. Embarrassing fantasies. Nothing like real life, nothing she would ever really do, and positively nothing she could ever voice aloud to a manand especially never to Spence.
Clearly, rum or no rum, she needed to get her act together. She shook her head with a little nervous laugh. Good grief, its almost pitch-black. I didnt realize how late it was getting. Its way past time to head in. I owe you a big one, Spence. You came over for a little neighborly conversation, and instead Ive been ranting on like a real fruitcake. Im real sorry
I was glad to listen. And theres nothing to be sorry about.
Just forget everything I said, okay? A little case of the birthday doldrums seemed to get the best of me. I didnt really mean anything... Something was wrong with the chaise longue. It didnt want to let her out of it. Then she remembered she needed to put her feet on the ground before she tried to stand up.
I was glad to listen. And theres nothing to be sorry about.
Just forget everything I said, okay? A little case of the birthday doldrums seemed to get the best of me. I didnt really mean anything... Something was wrong with the chaise longue. It didnt want to let her out of it. Then she remembered she needed to put her feet on the ground before she tried to stand up.
Spence lurched to his feet with a chuckle.
Okay, I might as well admit it. Im probably one of the hardest core drinkers youve ever met, she told him.
I had the feeling you dont indulge too often.
If you dont promise to forget Im making such an idiot of myself, Im gonna die. It was just one of those power-stress days. And I was feeling crabby. And it seemed like a drink would be a good way to relax. Once she managed to stand up, she added wryly, My knees feet like noodles. Somehow I never expected to end up quite this relaxed.
I think youre going to sleep well tonight. But before you go in...
Yes? Just as she turned toward the door, she remembered the exquisite cameo gift from her sister. Carefully she scooped up the velvet box and slipped it safely in her skirt pocket.
It is your birthday...
She tilted her head, unsure what Spence was trying to say, unsure why he was suddenly so close. The patio cement was freezing on her bare feet, undoubtedly the reason a sudden shiver whispered up her spine. She was thinking that she needed to check on the boys, lock up, lay out clothes for tomorrow, just put this whole awful day behind her. She wasnt thinking about kissing. In a thousand million years, she would never have guessed Spence ever planned to kiss her.
I think its a ruleno birthday should pass without a birthday kiss, he murmured.
He was teasing, she thought. Any second now shed think of an appropriate comeback. Only in the next second, his arms had reached over. Long, strong fingers buried in her curls, holding her head tilted up to his.
His lips touched hers, softer than honey. She could smell the warmth of his skin, taste the mint iced tea on his breath. His dark eyes caught the shimmering silver of the full moon. He was just teasing, she mentally repeated to herself. He just meant a neighbors kiss. A gesture of affection. A kindness. If she just stood still for a second, itd be over.
But for some strange reason, he seemed in no hurry.
Another shiver hummed up her spine, this one not caused by the icy patio cement on her bare feet. This particular shiver was as warm as a heat wave. Spence lifted his head after that first, brief taste of a kiss. His eyes were open for that moment, studying her, considering her. She saw the faintest smile on his lips, but it disappeared faster than the wink of an eye. And then he closed his eyes and came back for a real kiss.
Nothing burned like hot sugar. His mouth rubbed against hers slowly, evocatively, alluringly taking his time. Shed been married. Shed loved her husband. But no one had ever kissed her like this. All day, shed been trying to figure out who Gwen Stanford really was. The question reared its painful head again, because God knew, she didnt know who she was at that moment.
He hadnt even touched her body, yet every nerve ending in her body seemed suddenly electrified. Her pulse was frantic, her nerves thrumming to intimate, wicked blues. He took her mouth like she was fiercely desired, like he couldnt wait another instant before touching her, like there were no swing sets and sandboxes and neighbors a few yards away, like there was nothing but her in his universe.
Shed never had such a foolish response to a man in her entire life. Family tradition or no family tradition, she abruptly resolved never to make rum cake again, to pour every ounce of that demon drink straight down the drain.
Still...
She knew, really knew, that her response to him was unforgivably silly. The hormones singing in her head had a reason. Too much rum. And the allure of a man who positively knew how to kiss a woman, whod probably known millions and millions of women. She knew. Yet yearning still swept through her like a storm, so heady and wild that her knees wanted to buckle. She felt young and reckless. She felt brand-new, on the brink of all the excitement in life, back in that time when she really believed in fairy tales and the unconquerable power of love....
Slowly Spence stepped back from her. Slowly he traced the line of her jaw with the edge of his thumb. Happy birthday, Gwen, he murmured.
Two
An hour later, Gwen had locked up, picked up and switched off all the lights. She dialed the telephone in her bedroom to call Vermont. Her sister should still be up, and she wanted to thank Paige for the cameo.
As the telephone rang at the other end, her gaze pounced from the lemon yellow print comforter to the wicker love seat in the corner. Shed redecorated the bedroom right after the divorce. Ron favored dark, rich expensive woods. Actually, his taste pretty predictably ran to anything that cost the moon. Shed sold the oppressive stuff, painted and redid everything in sunny yellows and white wicker. It was her private haven now. Walking into her bedroom was like walking into her own sanctuary.
Not tonight. Listening to the phone ring, she squeezed her eyes closed. If her sister wasnt home, heaven knew what she was going to domaybe take a marathon jog around St. Augustine. She was not only feeling climb-the-walls wide awake, but sober as a judge.
That kiss from Spence could sober anyone up... although she was trying her her damnedest to work up a good case of denial. Surely it never really happened. Surely it was her imagination that hed knocked her knickers off with that kiss. Surely it was her rum-clouded memory that made her think shed responded to him like a wild cat.
She couldnt conceivably have responded to Spence with abandon. He was her neighbor. A good neighbor. He was also an experienced, sophisticated hunk. She was tuna noodle casserole and he was lobster. There was nothing wrong with being tuna noodle casserole, but man, to have him think she was sexually attracted to him was beyond mortifying. Shed never doubted that Spence ran across his share of female movers and shakers in his business life. He was probably dying of embarrassment that shed responded to him like...well, like some sad stereotype of a sex-starved divorcee.
She hoped hed forget it.
If he couldnt forget it, she hoped shed explained enough times about her inexperience with rum.
Actually, she desperately hoped that if she just kept mentally denying it, maybe she could convince herself it never happened.
Gwen! I tried to call you earlier, but you were outI hope partying big-time. Howd the big three-oh birthday go?
There. Her sister finally answered, and Paiges familiar alto soothed her nerves like balm for a sore. The days been fine, and oh, Paige, the cameo is just breathtaking. I couldnt love it more. Thank you so much!
Paige let out a breathy sigh. Whew. So glad you liked it. I wanted it right ... not just some pretty piece of artwork, but something personal between you and me.
Sitting Indian-style on the bed, the phone cupped to her ear, Gwen touched the cameo pendant with soft fingers. It was personal. More than personal. The look of the woman in the profile almost gave me the shivers... she almost seemed to look like me
I thought so, too. But Ive told you before how sculpting worksany similarity like that is accidental. Theres a kind of truth in any piece of raw material. The artists job is to carve away what isnt the truth, but she cant build in a picture that isnt there. I had no way to know ahead of time that the woman was going to end up looking like you. Paige hesitated, then added deliberately, But I wanted her to be beautiful. Youre beautiful, sis. And you seem to be the only one in the entire world who isnt aware of it.