19 Headed for Trouble (23 page)

“Wait a minute,” Jules interrupted. “You don’t want to go for a run? I thought you wanted to go for a run.”

“No, we’re definitely going for a run because
you
want to go for a …” Robin’s voice trailed off. His eyebrows went up as he realized … “Whoa, really?” He laughed then added, “What part of
Hey, babe, let’s stay in bed a little longer so I can rock your world
did you think I
wouldn’t
want to hear?”

Jules laughed, too. “I don’t know. You got up. I thought—”

“I had to pee. I come back, you’re already getting dressed. I figured, okay, I’d have to wait until after lunch, at which point, by the way, I was very definitely planning to talk you into taking a nap.” As Robin spoke he kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his T-shirt and … Yup, his shorts went, too.

“Let’s run later,” Robin added as he grabbed Jules and pulled him back with him into their bed.

“You’re full of good ideas today,” Jules pointed out after Robin kissed him quite thoroughly.

And then they both stopped talking as Jules got to do
exactly
what he wanted to do on this, his vacation day.

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

Lunch was lovely.

The Baldwin’s Bridge hotel had outdoor dining on their patio, and Arlene’s view of the ocean was spectacular. Especially since it included Jack Lloyd sitting across the table from her. She’d always found him to be extremely easy on the eyes.

He looked up, smiling his thanks as the waiter delivered their check, and she used the opportunity to study him as he read the bill.

His pretty brown hair moved in the warm breeze, and his eyes were more green than golden brown today, matching the faded sage color of his nicely fitted T-shirt.

He’d delivered exactly what he’d promised—conversation that was carefully minefield-free. They’d bounced from a variety of lighthearted topics—including the plan she and Maggie had made over breakfast, to throw a Friday night party at the local laser tag amusement center. The idea being for Arlene to meet Maggie’s friends in a low-stress, high-fun social situation. And since Will’s apartment was too small for a party of any size …

Jack agreed that it was a good idea and a good location, and then suggested that the party was the perfect time and place for him and Will to have a few private words with Mike-the-high-school-junior.

The conversation had moved, then, to other subjects, skimming across them with lightning speed before landing, with both feet, on her job and her life in Iraq. Arlene had backed away from that, rather emphatically, and to her surprise, Jack hadn’t pushed—not even a little.

All he said was, “I’ve been over there, on assignment. And I know it’s not the same thing, not even close, but … I’ve seen it. I know what it smells like and … If
you ever want to talk, you don’t have to worry about, you know, shocking me.”

She’d nodded and pretended to study the dessert menu, but in truth she couldn’t read a word past the blur of tears that had rushed to her eyes. Tears that Jack, in turn, gallantly pretended not to see.

As Arlene now watched him, he dug into the back pocket of his pants for his wallet, from which he extracted a credit card that he slipped into the leather folder with their bill. He held it up for the young waiter to grab on his way past, again smiling his thanks at the intercept, before reaching for his mug to finish off his coffee—milk free, but with three Sweet’N Lows.

He met Arlene’s gaze then and gave her a smile that was even warmer than the ones he’d shared with the waiter. “This was great. This was … a dream come true.”

She had to laugh at that, even as she reached across the table to take his hand. He drew his breath in, as if he were surprised by the sudden contact, and he looked down at their interlaced fingers. When he glanced back up and into her eyes, she could see it again. His desire. It was warm and solid and impossible for him to hide. At least from her.

“I think the dream-come-true part happens next,” she told him, and his gaze dropped to her mouth, but only for a second. “Seriously, Jack. I just want to … I don’t know. Feel good for a little while. And then get back to Newton so I’m there when Maggie gets home from school.”

“Getting a hotel room in the afternoon on day two, after not seeing each other for more than two years is
not
what I’d call taking it slowly,” he pointed out.

“I’m not going to be home for very long,” she countered, holding his gaze.

Jack nodded. “I’d … rather spend the time talking. About things that matter.”

Laughing, she pulled her hand free. “God, you’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” he said, laughing, too, but then immediately amended his declaration. “Well, okay, I’m lying because yes,
yes
, I want to say yes. I want to … 
Yes
.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “But I don’t want to screw this up. I am
not
going to screw this up. So yes, I
would
rather talk to you. So how about this? We drive back to Newton, pick up Maggie from school, and then go to the airport where we catch the next flight to Vegas. We can talk all the way there—the flight’s about six hours, nonstop. We arrive, you marry me, we have a little celebration dinner, check into a hotel, getting Mags a separate room, and kiss her good night. At which point, I promise, I will make you feel very,
very
good.”

“That’s insane,” Arlene whispered, but she couldn’t look away. She just sat there, staring into his eyes, and she could see—she knew—that he wasn’t teasing or flirting or pretending. He was dead serious.

“I want you in my life,” he said quietly. “So, no. I disagree. It’s not insane. It’s quite possibly the most sane suggestion I’ve ever made. Ever.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know where to start.”

But she didn’t have to start, because he knew exactly what she was thinking. “You know me,” he persisted in that voice that had always flowed over her like velvet. “You’ve
always
known me. And I should’ve asked you to marry me, right on the very first day that I met you, because I knew, right then, right at that moment, that with you by my side, my life would be complete.”

“Except I was too young,” she pointed out tartly, “so saying that,
doing
that, would’ve meant, what? Three
years of celibacy? Instead you opted to spend at least three of those months with Kim Bickford.”

“Holy shit.” Jack sat back in his seat. “You remember Kim? Jesus, I barely remember her last name.”

“She slept with me in my room,” Arlene told him, “when you and Will came to visit. It was pretty obvious, pretty quickly, that you weren’t dating her for her massive vocabulary. So don’t play the our-love-transcends-time-and-space card, okay? It doesn’t fly.”

“I’m only human,” Jack admitted. “I made a lot of mistakes. I won’t deny that. Hell, I still make mistakes.”

“And it doesn’t occur to you that this could be one of them?” she asked. It was her turn to lean forward. “You don’t need to marry me to sleep with me, Jack. I’m sitting right here. You don’t need to ply me with any bullshit, or even another glass of wine. I’m good to go. A sure thing.”

“It’s not bullshit,” he argued. “I was young. And stupid. God, Leenie, remember that weekend that we played that epic Monopoly game?”

Arlene
did
remember. It was post–Kim Bickford, and Jack and Will alone had come to visit for the weekend.

After the infamous full-family Monopoly match, she’d been unable to sleep, and she’d gone into the kitchen for a snack and found Jack sitting at the island counter, reading a battered economics textbook for a required course that was, as he’d said, “kicking the crap” out of him. They’d started talking. And talking. And were both still awake as the dawn lit the sky.

It was the first of about a dozen similar Saturday nights, before he’d started dating a girl named Shannon West. At which point he completely dropped off the map.

“I was terrified of you,” Jack confessed now. “Scared shitless by the way you made me feel. I was afraid of losing, I don’t know, my freedom, my youth, which is … God, I say it and it sounds so stupid now. But it’s
true. If I could go back in time, I would’ve just kept coming over, every single weekend until … Ding! You turned eighteen.”

Arlene laughed at that. “Just because I’m a sure thing now doesn’t mean I was one back then.”

“You were in love with me, too,” he said quietly, and she was unable to deny it. “All I had to do was wait. But I got scared. And impatient—I’m not going to deny that, either. But I blew it. I know it. And I have regretted it every single day of my life. A day doesn’t pass, Arlene, that I don’t think about you.”

And there they sat. Just looking at each other.

“If we hadn’t messed it up, I wouldn’t have Maggie,” she finally whispered.

“And I wouldn’t have Luke and Joe,” Jack agreed. “So maybe everything happens for a reason—including my meeting Maggie when I did, at Robin Chadwick’s wedding.” He smiled then, just a little. “Who would’ve thought I’d be invited to a gay movie star’s wedding? But I was, because of Will, and … Here we are. Older. Wiser. But … I’m still that kid, Leen—the boy who shared secrets with you in your parents’ kitchen. And that girl who stayed up all night to talk to me is still inside of you, I know she is. Only this time around, I’m brave enough to tell you how I feel, that I want you in my life, that I love you. It’s always been you. Always.”

Oh, God. “But then what?” she asked. “If we go to Las Vegas—God, I can’t believe I actually said those words. You know, in the Army, you’re supposed to ask permission to get married. There are forms to fill out—”

“I am very good at filling out forms.”

“Jack—”

“I’m not asking you to break any rules,” he said. “Do you seriously think, with your record, that if you ask to get married, you’d be denied—”

She interrupted him. “Regardless of that, regardless
of … anything. Jack, I need to go back. I
have
to go back.”

“I get it,” he said. “You’ll go back. I’m not asking you to not go back. I know what it means and … I’m asking you to … be with me. Be faithful and, I don’t know, email me. And I’ll email you, every day. Every hour if you want. Until eventually the Army’s done with you—it’s going to happen, and then you’ll come home.”

“And we’ll move to California,” Arlene pointed out.

Jack shook his head. “Only if you want to.”

“How am I going to say no to that, knowing if I do, you won’t see your kids?”

“I’ll see my kids. I’ll find another job,” he said, “with better pay.”

“You’ll give up writing?” she asked, aghast. “That’s not—”

“I’m not going to give up writing,” he spoke over her. “I’m a writer. I’ll always write. But if I have to—” he shrugged “—I’ll get a second job to supplement what I earn as a journalist, and I’ll be able to fly Luke and Joey out to see me—us—more often.” He reached across the table and took both of her hands. “We can make this work, I know we can.”

And as she sat there, looking into the warmth of his eyes, she could almost believe him.

“Come on,” he said, but his next words weren’t
Let’s go get that hotel room
. “There’s a really great ice cream shop down the street. I’ll buy you a cone. We have time for a stroll through town before Maggie gets home from school.”

“You want to get ice cream,” Arlene felt the need to clarify, as Jack held out his hand and tugged her up from the table. She grabbed her bag and slipped it over her shoulder.

“I
want
to go to Las Vegas and then have sex for a solid month, straight,” Jack said, “but buying you ice
cream and window shopping with my arm around you sounds really good, too.”

Bemused, she let him lead her away from the entrance to the hotel lobby and out into the brilliant sunlight of the early afternoon.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

They had dinner that night with Maggie, and the sound of Arlene’s laughter mingling with her daughter’s made Jack smile.

Will and Dolphina purposely made themselves scarce, no doubt taking advantage of Arlene being home to spend some alone time of their own over at Dolphina’s apartment.

So Maggie and Arlene and Jack played a board game called Settlers of Catan, in which Maggie kicked their collective ass, but after which she insisted she had homework to do and vanished into her bedroom, closing her door tightly behind her.

It was only then that Jack trusted himself to kiss Arlene because he knew damn well that she wasn’t going to sleep with him—not with her teenage daughter awake in the next room. At least not until after they took that trip to Vegas …

“You’re diabolical,” she gasped between kisses, out of breath in the kitchen, as she clung to him. “
Now
you kiss me …?”

“I want you to take me seriously,” he told her before he kissed her again.

They eventually moved back into the living room and pretended to watch a movie on TV while, in truth, they made out on the sofa until the light that shone from beneath Maggie’s door went out.

At which point, Jack told Arlene he’d pick her up
again at nine the next morning, kissed her good night, and sent himself home.

That next day, her T-shirt was tighter, her shorts were shorter, and he could tell she’d spent some time on her makeup and her hair.

When she got into the Zipcar and he kissed her hello, her hand traveled up his thigh, inside the leg of his shorts. But he caught her wrist, asking, “Is that your way of telling me you’re ready to go to Vegas?”

She laughed as she shook her head
no
, but told him, “You know, I
do
take you very seriously.”

“Only because I’m not having sex with you,” he pointed out. And then he drove them to Concord, where they walked the Minuteman trail until it started to rain, so they ran for the car, and then went to the mall and got tickets to a movie.

The plan was to have popcorn for lunch, but they ignored it—and the movie—and just sat there in the dark, alone in the small theater, kissing and touching like they’d never had a chance to as teenagers.