03_A Family To Call Her Own (11 page)

By the time they arrived in St. Louis, she did seem to be more at ease, but as they pulled up in front of the restaurant her voice died in mid-sentence even as her eyes widened in surprise. He had chosen one of the finest, priciest restaurants on the Hill for tonight’s dinner date.

“Zach! I never expected anything like this,” she exclaimed, completely taken aback.

He smiled, pleased at her reaction. “I hoped you would like it.”

“Like it! That’s an understatement! I only know this place by reputation, but I’ve always wanted to eat here. It’s just too expensive.” Suddenly she frowned and turned to him. “Zach, this will cost a fortune! I can’t let you spend that kind of money on me. We hardly know each other!” she protested.

“Well, I intend to remedy that. Starting tonight. Just think of this as a birthday gift, Rebecca. And I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he added with a smile, leaning closer to drape an arm casually across the back of her seat, his fingers brushing her shoulder. “It may not be my birthday, but I definitely consider this date a gift. Thank you for coming tonight.”

Rebecca was too stunned by his candor to reply. Fortunately she didn’t have to. Just then the valet opened her door. Zach winked at her before removing his arm from the back of her seat, and it was all she could do to keep her thoughts coherent as she stepped from the car. He joined her immediately, his hand resting lightly but proprietarily against the small of her back as they walked toward the restaurant, and somehow she knew that no matter what happened in the future between them, she’d always remember this birthday celebration as one of the most special of her life.

The dinner was everything Rebecca had expected—and more—and she even drank a little wine, a rare indulgence for her. But tonight it seemed appropriate, and as the meal progressed she grew mellow and relaxed, smiling and laughing freely. Zach was an ideal dinner companion—witty, well-read, an excellent conversationalist, moving with ease from one topic to another. She found herself telling him about her home-town, about Brad and Sam and their new daughter, about the satisfaction of making her dreams of owning her own restaurant a reality. Zach skillfully drew her out, asking all the right questions, until finally she paused to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a smile, his fingers idly playing with the stem of his wineglass as he gazed at her quizzically.

She shook her head and grinned ruefully. “I have a feeling you’re
very
good at your job.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve managed to find out an awful lot about me in a very short time. That skill must come in handy in your work.”

He grinned. “I suppose so. But tonight my questions are motivated purely by personal interest,” he replied candidly. What he
didn’t
tell her was that he hadn’t found out the one thing he was most interested in—why she rarely dated. He’d tried a couple of subtle probes, but she’d adeptly sidestepped them. And he didn’t think pressing the issue was a good idea.

“So tell me about you, Zach,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

He shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. I grew up in Kansas City, and my mom still lives there. So does my older brother and his family. I went to Mizzou, became a journalist and
voilà!
Here I am.”

“Talk about a condensed version of a life story!” she protested. “I guess I’ll just have to ask a few questions of my own. What brought you to St. Genevieve? I don’t know much about the newspaper business, but a flood doesn’t seem like the usual sort of thing an investigative reporter would cover.”

“You’re right,” he acknowledged. “I’ve been working on a series on corruption in city government, and a couple of the people implicated got wind of it. They claimed I was using falsified documents as a basis for my coverage and threatened to sue the paper if the series ran. So the publisher put a hold on the story while they look into the charges, and sent me off to St. Genevieve for the duration. Mostly to keep me out of the way, I assume.”

Rebecca frowned. “No wonder you sounded so burned out about reporting when we talked the other night.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t just that. There have been lots of instances through the years when a piece has blown up in my face, or people have found a way to work around the system and get away with murder. Sometimes literally. I think this was just the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. To be honest, my editor actually realized before I did that a break from investigative work would be good for me,” he admitted.

“How do you know?” Rebecca asked curiously.

“At our last meeting he said I needed some time to decompress and regain my perspective. I didn’t buy it then. But now that I’ve been away for a couple of weeks, I have to admit that he’s right. In fact, since I talked to that class at the high school on Friday, I’d go even further. I don’t just need time away from investigative work. I need time away, period.”

“It sounds like a good idea,” Rebecca agreed. “Can you manage it?”

He nodded. “I have quite a bit of vacation accumulated. It shouldn’t be an issue. In fact, when Ted—my managing editor—called yesterday, I told him that I’m thinking about taking some time off when this assignment is over. Being in the classroom with those kids was a catalyst, in a sense. It reminded me why I was attracted to teaching in the first place—and also that there’s a whole world out there apart from journalism and a lot of ways to make a difference in the human condition. I’m going to think about it for a couple more days, but I’ve pretty much decided that a long vacation would be a good idea.”

“It does seem to make sense,” Rebecca concurred. Then she propped her chin in her hand and tilted her head as she studied him. “You know, I imagine you’d probably be a really good teacher.”

He smiled. “Why do you say that?”

She considered the question seriously, frowning slightly. “Well, you’ve been out in the real world. You talk from experience. Kids respect that. And you have an intensity…a commitment, I guess is the right word…plus a real sense of integrity, that would be inspiring to young people. Not to mention the fact that you’re obviously an intelligent, well-read, articulate person.”

Zach was taken aback by her unexpectedly flattering assessment, and he felt his neck redden. He wasn’t a man who handled praise well. It made him uncomfortable. “Well, I think you’re being too generous, but I do appreciate the kind words.”

She gazed at him speculatively, an idea forming in her mind. “Did you know that Phil Carr hurt his back sandbagging last night?” she asked suddenly.

Zach frowned. “No.”

“I found out this morning at church. It sounds like he’ll be out of commission for the rest of the semester. They’ll be looking for a replacement to come in when spring break ends next Monday.”

Zach digested that piece of news in silence for several seconds. When he spoke, his tone was thoughtful. “That suggests some interesting possibilities,” he mused. On a lot of fronts, he added silently. A trial run at teaching appealed to him. So did staying close to Rebecca. And he could use some time not only away from reporting, but away from the city, when this assignment was finished. Which would be soon, given that the flood waters had crested. But the teaching slot was probably a long shot. “I’m sure they have people in mind already,” he said.

Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t think so. At least not on such short notice—
and
for a several-week stint.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll have to give that some thought,” he said noncommittally. Then he placed his napkin on the table and smiled. “So…are you ready to head back?”

Not really, she thought. The evening had been so enjoyable that she hated for it to end. But she couldn’t think of any reason to delay the inevitable, so she summoned up a smile. “If I can move, after all that food,” she joked. “It was wonderful, Zach. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

The ride back was pleasant. The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by periods of comfortable, contented silence that allowed time for reflection. Zach had proven to be a wonderful companion, Rebecca thought. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out with a man socially and felt so relaxed.

But relaxation slowly changed to anticipation as they approached St. Genevieve. Would he kiss her good night again? she wondered, her nerve endings beginning to tingle. She had enjoyed their last kiss, much to her surprise, and she wasn’t averse to repeating the experience. No, that wasn’t quite accurate, she admitted honestly. She
wanted
to repeat the experience. She wanted him to touch her in that gentle, nonthreatening way, wanted to savor the tender feel of his hand on her cheek. She found it hard to believe, after years of avoiding that type of experience, that she was now looking forward to it. She only hoped Zach was, too!

When they pulled up in front of her apartment, he turned off the engine and angled himself toward her, draping his arm across the back of her seat. “Home safe and sound,” he announced lightly.

Rebecca tried to smile, but suddenly her lips felt stiff. She had very limited experience in this good night business, and she suddenly wondered if she was supposed to invite him in. But that scared her. It was too…intimate. For all she knew, inviting a man in also implied an invitation for more, and she figured she’d better not take the risk. “I had a great time, Zach,” she offered, her voice quavering slightly.

“So did I.”

His fingers were brushing her shoulder lightly now, back and forth, back and forth, and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She tried to discern the intent in his eyes, but in the dim light his expression was unreadable. She dropped her gaze, playing nervously with the clasp of her purse as she searched for something else to say, anything, to break the electric silence between them, but her mind went blank.

Zach knew Rebecca was nervous. It would take a total clod to miss the signs. But he also knew he was going to kiss her. She’d been nervous the last time, too, but she’d responded once he’d initiated the kiss. He hoped she would do the same tonight. Because for the last twenty minutes that had been the only thing on his mind. He wanted to feel her soft, pliant lips against his, wanted to run his fingertips across her silky skin, wanted to hold her so close that he could feel the thudding of her heart against his chest. And Zach was a man used to getting what he wanted. Not that he ever had to push. He had learned through the years to accurately assess a woman’s interest and he didn’t waste time and energy pursuing unwilling partners. Though he knew Rebecca was nervous, he also knew she was willing. And interested. She just seemed to need a little coaxing.

Zach didn’t much relish the idea of kissing Rebecca in the car, however. There was too much in the way. For example, the gearshift would definitely hamper his style, he thought wryly. But she hadn’t said anything about coming in. His gaze flickered away from her momentarily to scan the surroundings, coming to rest on a secluded bench discreetly tucked between two pine trees. Thank goodness it was a mild, dry night, he thought in relief.

Slowly he withdrew his arm and smiled at Rebecca. “If you’re not in a hurry, we could sit for a while,” he suggested casually, his tone giving away none of the anticipatory tension that was slowly beginning to build inside him. “It’s a nice night, and there’s a convenient bench right over there,” he noted, nodding toward the pine trees.

Rebecca swallowed. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? So why did she suddenly feel so nervous and uncertain? Everything would be fine. She was only a few steps from her door, not trapped at a secluded scenic overlook or miles from help, should she need it. Which she wouldn’t.
Take a deep breath and relax,
she told herself.

“Okay,” she agreed, trying to steady the tremor in her voice.

Zach gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze, then got out of the car in one lithe movement and came around to open her door. He took her arm as they walked across the uneven ground, the warmth of his fingers penetrating the soft wool of her sweater. When they reached the old-fashioned park bench, she perched stiffly on the edge while he leaned back, draped his arms across the back and stretched his legs in front, crossing his ankles. He seemed totally relaxed and at ease, Rebecca thought enviously. Of course, he probably had a whole lot more experience at this than she did.

Rebecca wasn’t sure why she felt so uncomfortable. Maybe because the last time, things had seemed to evolve naturally, spontaneously. She certainly hadn’t expected to be kissed that night. And she’d be willing to bet that Zach hadn’t planned to kiss her, either. It had just happened. Tonight was different. Tonight she felt intent in Zach’s actions. And for some reason that scared her. She shivered suddenly, hoping vainly that Zach wouldn’t notice, but she should have known better. His perceptive eyes never missed a thing.

“Are you cold?” he inquired solicitously.

“N-no.”

“Well, you
look
cold. Why don’t you lean back and I’ll warm you up.” He reached forward and gently drew her into the protective curve of his right arm, draping it around her shoulder and urging her close. She followed his lead numbly, simply because she didn’t know what else to do. And it
was
warmer here—although his proximity did nothing to quiet her pounding heart. She gripped her purse tightly in her lap, aware of their thighs only a breath apart, inhaling the distinctive scent of his rugged aftershave, feeling his warm breath on her temple. She was getting in over her head here and she knew it. But she wanted so desperately to give this a chance! Please, Lord, help me find the courage to at least
try
to relate to this man on a physical level, she prayed fervently.

Zach knew Rebecca was skittish, but he attributed her nervousness to inexperience. She was probably embarrassed by her lack of sophistication, he reasoned. But if he was reading her signals correctly, she did like him. And she’d had a good time tonight, he could tell. He wanted to tell her to relax, to forget about her lack of experience because it didn’t matter to him. But maybe, instead of telling her, he needed to show her.