The fact was, she couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. Then again, she did know…and she didn’t want to dwell on it.
She parked a safe distance away, praying that either Peter would be finished soon and they could leave or that Alex wouldn’t notice her arrival. She lowered the window to let in the warm breeze, then turned off the ignition and reached for a magazine, burying her face in its pages. For five minutes nothing happened.
When the driver’s side of the van opened, Carol realized her luck wasn’t going to hold. She did her best to concentrate on a recipe for stuffed pork chops and pretend she hadn’t seen Alex approach her. When she glanced up, he was standing beside her car. Their eyes met for what seemed the longest moment of her life.
“Hello again.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on her window.
“Hello, Alex.”
“Nice day, isn’t it?”
“Lovely.” It wasn’t only his smile that intrigued her, but his eyes. Their color was like a cool mist rising off a pond. Would this attraction she felt never diminish, never stop? Three brief encounters, and she was already so tied up in knots she couldn’t think clearly.
“How was your day?” His eyes were relentless, searching for answers she couldn’t give him to questions she didn’t want him to ask.
She glanced away. “Good. How about yours?”
“Fine.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I was going to call you later.”
“Oh?”
“To see if you’d like to attend the Home Show with me Friday night. I thought we could have dinner afterward.”
Carol opened her mouth to refuse, but he stopped her, laying his finger across her lips, silencing her. The instant his hand touched her, the warm, dizzy feeling began. As implausible, as preposterous as it seemed, a deep physical sensation flooded her body. And all he’d done was lightly press his finger to her lips!
“Don’t say no,” Alex said, his voice husky.
She couldn’t, at least not then. “I…I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“You can tell me tomorrow.”
She nodded, although it was an effort.
“Good…I’ll talk to you then.”
It wasn’t until he’d removed his finger, sliding it across her moist lips, that Carol breathed again.
“What do you mean you can’t pick me up from track?” Peter complained the next morning. “How else am I supposed to get home? Walk?”
“From track practice, of all things.” She added an extra oatmeal cookie to his lunch because, despite everything, she felt guilty about asking him to find another way home. She was such a coward.
“Mom, coach works us hard—you know that. I was so stiff last night I could barely move. Remember?”
Regretfully, Carol did. A third cookie went into the brown-paper sack.
“What’s more important than picking me up?”
Escaping a man. If only Alex hadn’t been so gentle. Carol had lain awake half the night, not knowing what was wrong with her or how to deal with it. This thing with Alex, whatever it was, perplexed and bewildered her. For most of her life, Carol had given and received countless hugs and kisses—from relatives, from friends. Touching and being touched were a natural part of her personality. But all Alex had done was press his finger to her lips, and her response…her response still left her stunned.
As she lay in bed, recalling each detail of their brief exchange, her body had reacted again. He didn’t even need to be in the same room with her! Alone, in the wee hours of the morning, she was consumed by the need to be loved by him.
She woke with the alarm, in a cold sweat, trembling and frightened, convinced that she’d be a fool to let a man have that kind of power a second time.
“Mom,” Peter said impatiently. “I asked you a question.”
“Sorry,” she said. “What was it you wanted to know?”
“I asked why you aren’t going to be at track this afternoon. It’s a simple question.”
Intuitively Carol knew she wouldn’t be able to escape Alex, and she’d be a bigger fool than she already was even to try.
She sighed. “I’ll be there,” she said, and handed him his lunch.
Peter stood frozen, studying her. “Are you sure you’re not coming down with a fever?”
If only he knew…
When Carol pulled into the school parking lot later that same day, she saw Alex’s van in the same space as the day before. Only this time he was standing outside, one foot braced against it, fingers tucked in his pockets. His jeans hugged his hips and fit tight across his thighs. He wore a checked work shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows.
When she appeared, he lowered his foot and straightened, his movement leisurely and confident.
It was all Carol could do to slow down and park her car next to his. To avoid being placed at a disadvantage, she opened her door and climbed out.
“Good afternoon,” she said, smiling so brightly her mouth felt as though it would crack.
“Hello again.”
A lock of his dark hair fell over his forehead, and he threaded his fingers through its thickness, pushing it away from his face.
His gaze tugged at hers until their eyes met briefly, intently.
“It’s warmer today than it was yesterday,” she said conversationally.
“Yes, it is.”
Carol lowered her eyes to his chest, thinking she’d be safe if she practiced what she preached. Find a focal point and concentrate. Only it didn’t work as well in situations like this. Instead of saying what had been on her mind most of the day, she became aware of the pattern of his breathing, and how the rhythm of her own had changed, grown faster and more erratic.
“Have you decided?”
Her eyes rushed to his. “About…”
“Friday night.”
She wished it could be the way it had been in the restaurant. There was something about being with a crowd that relaxed her. She hadn’t felt intimidated.
“I…don’t think seeing each other is such a good idea. It’d be best if we…stayed friends. I can foresee all kinds of problems if we started dating, can’t you?”
“The Home Show’s going to cause problems?”
“No…our seeing each other will.”
“Why?”
“The boys—”
“Couldn’t care less. If anything, they approve. I don’t understand why there’d be any problems. I like you and you like me—we’ve got a lot in common. We have fun together. Where’s the problem in that?”
Carol couldn’t very well explain that when he touched her, even lightly, tiny atoms exploded inside her. Whenever they were within ten feet of each other, the air crackled with sensuality that grew more intense with each encounter. Surely he could feel it, too. Surely he was aware of it.
Carol held a hand to her brow, not knowing how to answer him. If she pointed out the obvious, she’d sound like a fool, but she couldn’t deny it, either.
“I…just don’t think our seeing each other is a good idea,” she repeated stubbornly.
“I do,” he countered. “In fact, it appeals to me more every minute.”
“Oh, Alex, please don’t do this.”
Other cars were filling the parking lot, and the two of them had quickly become the center of attention. Carol glanced around self-consciously, praying he’d accept her refusal and leave it at that. She should’ve known better.
“Come in here,” Alex said, opening the side panel to his van. He stepped inside and offered her his hand. She joined him before she had time to determine the wisdom of doing so.
Alex closed the door. “Now, where were we…ah, yes. You’d decided you don’t want to go out with me again.”
That wasn’t quite accurate, but she wasn’t going to argue. She’d rarely wanted anything more than to continue seeing him, but she wasn’t ready. Yet…Bruce had been dead for thirteen years. If she wasn’t ready by now, she never would be. The knowledge hit her hard, like an unexpected blow, and her eyes flew to his.
“Carol?” He moved toward her. The walls of the van seemed to close in around her. She could smell the scent of his after-shave and the not unpleasant effects of the day’s labor. She could feel the heat coming off his body.
Emotion thickened the air, and the need that washed through her was primitive.
She backed as far as she could against the orderly rows of tools and supplies stacked on the shelves. Alex towered above her, studying her with such tenderness and concern that she had to repress the urge to weep.
“Are you claustrophobic?”
She shook her head.
His eyes settled on her mouth, and Carol felt her body’s reaction. She unconsciously held her breath so long that when she released it, it burned her chest. If she hadn’t been so frightened, she would have marveled at what was happening between them, enjoyed the sensations.
Gently Alex whisked back a strand of hair from her face. At his touch, Carol took a deep breath, but he seemed to gain confidence when she didn’t flinch away from him. He cupped her cheek.
Her eyes momentarily drifted shut, and she laid her own hand over his.
“I’m going to kiss you.”
She knew it and was unwilling to dredge up the determination to stop him.
His hands slipped to her shoulders as he slowly drew her forward. She considered ending this now. At the least amount of resistance, he would have released her; she didn’t doubt that for a second. But it was as if this moment had been preordained.
At first all he did was press his lips to hers. That was enough, more than enough. Her fingers curled into his shirt as he swept his mouth over hers.
She whimpered when he paused.
He sighed.
Her breathing was shallow.
His was harsh.
He hesitated and lifted his head, eyes wide and shocked, his brow creased with a frown. Whatever he’d decided, he didn’t share, letting her draw her own conclusions.
Her hands were braced against his chest when he sought her mouth again. This time, the force of his kiss tilted back her head as he fused their lips together, giving her no choice but to respond. The heat, hot enough to scorch them both, intensified.
He kissed and held her, and her lungs forgot it was necessary to breathe. Her heart forgot to beat. Her soul refused to remember the lonely, barren years.
From somewhere far, far away, Carol heard voices. Her ears shut out the sound, not wanting anything or anyone to destroy this precious time.
Alex groaned, not to communicate pleasure but frustration. Carol didn’t understand. Nor did she comprehend what was happening when he released her gradually, pushing himself away. He turned and called, “The door’s locked.”
“The door?” she echoed. It wasn’t until then that she realized Alex was talking to the boys. Peter and Jim were standing outside the van, wanting in. She’d been so involved with Alex that she hadn’t even heard her own son calling her name.
“Please open that door,” she said, astonished by how composed she sounded. The trembling hadn’t started yet, but it would soon, and the faster she made her escape, the better.