breakfast-nook table while she eyed the kitchen wall phone she’d monopolized as a teen. And now, here she was, an adult visiting her parents, afraid to go near the thing lest she use it.
“ That. Are you expecting a call?”
“Yes—no.” She’d hoped for one to nudge her decision. Clearly, Greg had meant it when he’d put the ball in her court. More than in her court, the damn thing was pinging around her brain like a pinball machine stuck on automatic return. Even in her sleep she’d been betwixt erogenous replays and half-awake glimpses of Audrey’s trusting face on the next pillow.
Chris looked at her watch: Six-thirty and counting. If she counted much longer they’d lose one night out of five that couldn’t be recaptured. If she could just keep counting, he’d be gone and so would she. She’d pack Audrey up and head for Lubbock with morals and pride firmly intact, an untainted woman, suitable for a man looking for more than a hot fling.
No expectations, nothing to lose, the field wide open—between our legs and…
“Chris, are you feeling all right?”
“Huh? Oh, sure, I’m fine. Why?”
“Nothing, just that noise you made. Kind of a…groan?”
Between our legsand in the mind… Six thirty-three. I’d never want you to do something you didn’t enjoy…. I want to make love to you, very nice, very slow and easy….
“You’re sure the leftover ham didn’t upset your stomach?”
I have an appetite that hasn’t been fed in some time….
“Or maybe it’s the flu. You look so flushed and—Why don’t you go to bed and get some rest?”
A vision of Greg in bed didn’t provoke thoughts of rest. One call and…And what if she couldn’t face the mirror in the morning? She could bail out, some the wiser for her bad judgment, couldn’t she? And at least she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering what discoveries she might have missed. You need it. You want it.
She was taking the risk.
“Think you could help Mom watch Audrey tonight?”
“No problem. Are you going to lie down?”
“Not here.” Rising, Chris put a finger to the secretive smile framing her lips.
“Are you sure about this?” Tammy stroked her stomach like a worry stone, but the smile she returned was intrigued.
“I need some memories, Tammy.” The previous night’s images continued to barrel through her brain and shoot down to her belly, pulling it tighter than a piano wire. The chord it struck rippled into a crescendo, giving a quiet passion to her voice. “I need new memories to compete with the old ones that I’ve let hold me back.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Go for it.” Tammy gave her a thumbs-up as Chris headed for the phone.
Not giving herself time to hesitate, she dialed. On the fifth ring Chris silently damned herself for assuming Greg was sitting by the phone, waiting for her call.
“Hello?” he answered, out of breath.
“It’s me. I was afraid you weren’t at home.”
“And I wasafraid I’d miss your call while I jogged off almost a day’s worth of pacing the floor.”
Taking heart that there was at least one man who babysat the phone, she said clearly, “I’m ready, Greg. Ready to move on.”
An hour later she turned from his side at the car to wave. From the front door, Audrey waved back, looking curious, confused. And hopeful.
The next one’s for you, daughter. But this one’s for me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Y OU DON’TWASTE ANY time, do you?”
“No time to waste.” Greg’s grin was cagey as he watched Chris’s foot tap against the thick carpeting—high dollar, in keeping with the posh lobby, which she apparently found preferable to look at than him while they waited for the elevator.
The doors slid open but she didn’t move. When her hand shot out to catch the closing metal, Greg breathed a sigh of relief. Though they were alone, Chris stared at the escalating numbers until they reached the top floor. He noticed she seemed to flounce her way beside him
“ That. Are you expecting a call?”
“Yes—no.” She’d hoped for one to nudge her decision. Clearly, Greg had meant it when he’d put the ball in her court. More than in her court, the damn thing was pinging around her brain like a pinball machine stuck on automatic return. Even in her sleep she’d been betwixt erogenous replays and half-awake glimpses of Audrey’s trusting face on the next pillow.
Chris looked at her watch: Six-thirty and counting. If she counted much longer they’d lose one night out of five that couldn’t be recaptured. If she could just keep counting, he’d be gone and so would she. She’d pack Audrey up and head for Lubbock with morals and pride firmly intact, an untainted woman, suitable for a man looking for more than a hot fling.
No expectations, nothing to lose, the field wide open—between our legs and…
“Chris, are you feeling all right?”
“Huh? Oh, sure, I’m fine. Why?”
“Nothing, just that noise you made. Kind of a…groan?”
Between our legsand in the mind… Six thirty-three. I’d never want you to do something you didn’t enjoy…. I want to make love to you, very nice, very slow and easy….
“You’re sure the leftover ham didn’t upset your stomach?”
I have an appetite that hasn’t been fed in some time….
“Or maybe it’s the flu. You look so flushed and—Why don’t you go to bed and get some rest?”
A vision of Greg in bed didn’t provoke thoughts of rest. One call and…And what if she couldn’t face the mirror in the morning? She could bail out, some the wiser for her bad judgment, couldn’t she? And at least she wouldn’t spend the rest of her life wondering what discoveries she might have missed. You need it. You want it.
She was taking the risk.
“Think you could help Mom watch Audrey tonight?”
“No problem. Are you going to lie down?”
“Not here.” Rising, Chris put a finger to the secretive smile framing her lips.
“Are you sure about this?” Tammy stroked her stomach like a worry stone, but the smile she returned was intrigued.
“I need some memories, Tammy.” The previous night’s images continued to barrel through her brain and shoot down to her belly, pulling it tighter than a piano wire. The chord it struck rippled into a crescendo, giving a quiet passion to her voice. “I need new memories to compete with the old ones that I’ve let hold me back.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Go for it.” Tammy gave her a thumbs-up as Chris headed for the phone.
Not giving herself time to hesitate, she dialed. On the fifth ring Chris silently damned herself for assuming Greg was sitting by the phone, waiting for her call.
“Hello?” he answered, out of breath.
“It’s me. I was afraid you weren’t at home.”
“And I wasafraid I’d miss your call while I jogged off almost a day’s worth of pacing the floor.”
Taking heart that there was at least one man who babysat the phone, she said clearly, “I’m ready, Greg. Ready to move on.”
An hour later she turned from his side at the car to wave. From the front door, Audrey waved back, looking curious, confused. And hopeful.
The next one’s for you, daughter. But this one’s for me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Y OU DON’TWASTE ANY time, do you?”
“No time to waste.” Greg’s grin was cagey as he watched Chris’s foot tap against the thick carpeting—high dollar, in keeping with the posh lobby, which she apparently found preferable to look at than him while they waited for the elevator.
The doors slid open but she didn’t move. When her hand shot out to catch the closing metal, Greg breathed a sigh of relief. Though they were alone, Chris stared at the escalating numbers until they reached the top floor. He noticed she seemed to flounce her way beside him
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