Authors: Aris Whittier
"I’m not just any man." He waited for her to look at him.
"You know that, right?"
"Of course I do. Why do you even have to ask?"
He let out a quiet sigh of relief. He’d been so worried that during
the day, the time she was away from him, they would have somehow lost that
closeness they had shared. He had feared she would come to her senses so to
speak and feel differently. Pleasure caused him to smile. "According to
my calculations it’s been twenty-six hours."
"Really?" she said with mock surprise.
"Twenty-six?"
He glanced down at his watch. "Yes. Would you like me to calculate the
minutes?"
"That won’t be necessary. I’d love to see your
home."
"Are you sure?" he asked seriously. "I really don’t
mind going somewhere else."
She nodded and smiled. "Yes, I’m sure." She looked out the
window for a moment and then looked back to him. "I’m sorry.
I’m not used to doing this. I’m not used to feeling this
way."
"There’s no need to apologize."
She rolled her eyes pathetically. "I haven’t been out on a date
in," she paused as she thought about it, "In around three months.
I’m a little rusty."
"Don’t explain yourself, Amber. It’s okay." He
started the car, looked over his shoulder, and pulled into the lane.
"It’s about a thirty-minute drive. Make yourself
comfortable."
They had gotten on the freeway and then back off twice. As they drove
further out of the city the four-lane highway turned into a two-lane mountain
road. They steadily climbed the steep road for several miles before it leveled.
To Amber’s left was a spectacular view of the city below.
"This is lovely," she said as she leaned forward in her seat and
looked out her window. "You can see the entire coast. It’s like
we’re on top of the world up here."
"I enjoy this drive. The views are not only great but I find the
twists and turns of the road relaxing, especially after a long day."
She looked around. "I don’t think I’ve ever been this way
before."
"There’s not really much out this way but homes and US Forest
Service land." He steered into a corner as he pointed a finger.
"There are homes off to the side over here. But back behind there is
pretty much public land."
"And where are you?"
He point to his left. "You can’t see it, but my house sits off
that ridge over that way. We’re almost there. So, three months. Is that
supposed to be a long time?"
"I’m not sure what the actual quota is for a ‘dry
spell’ but it sure feels like a long time." Rachael had gone
through men like a revolving door, so compared to her she was a spinster.
"Well, if three months makes you rusty I’m damn near seized
up."
Her eyes found his and she smiled. "You’re having a dry spell,
too, are you?"
"You could say that."
"May I ask why?"
"I’ve been waiting for the right person," he said.
"And yours?"
"I work all the time. And sadly no one has asked me out."
"I find that hard to believe." As he turned, Logan used his
blinker even though no one was behind him.
"It’s true."
"So what’s wrong with you?" he asked with a big smile.
She laughed out loud. "Something has to be wrong with me. Is that what
men think when a woman hasn’t been out in a while—that
there’s something wrong with her?
Like we’re
damaged goods or something."
"Not damaged. But I think it’s a good way to weed out the crazy
ones."
"We’ve already established that I’m not crazy."
He smiled. "Yes, we have. Here we are."
Amber didn’t see any sign of a residence, as they turned right onto a
long, narrowly paved road.
"Where?"
"After we round this bend you’ll see it."
"You like your solitude," she commented as she looked at all the
trees and brush that formed a natural barrier around his home.
"Yes. I bought the place because it came with so much land. I was
guaranteed that no neighbors would move in. It seems like the older I get the
more I need to escape from the city."
Amber looked over at him. "May I ask you your age?"
"You may always ask me anything. I’m thirty-seven."
"Please don’t take offense, but you seem older."
"Do I? It must be all that wisdom you see in my eyes." His lips
curved into a grin. "There it is."
Amber looked out her window at Logan’s home. The single-story home
looked amazing as it extended across the hilltop in several directions. Little
lights dotted the exterior outlining the ranch style architecture.
"It’s beautiful and big. Did you have it built?"
"No, it’s way too much space for just me. I bought it for the
location." He guided the car around the curving driveway as it bent
toward the front of the house and then looped rounded to the other side.
"That’s all I cared about. It could have been a hut and I’d
have been just as happy."
Punching the remote, clipped to his visor he pulled the car into the garage.
Turning the car off, Logan got out and walked around the front of the car.
Stopping at the passenger’s door, he opened it and reached for
Amber’s hand.
As Amber got out of the car, Logan held her hand as they walked through the
garage and moved to the door that led to the interior. Flicking on the lights
with the back of his hand, he said, "This is the kitchen."
She viewed all the appliances and the large center island. "I can see
that."
"Sorry," he said lamely. He wasn’t used to feeling like
this. He also wasn’t used to bringing women to his home. It was peculiar
to have her in his space.
"That’s okay. I like to see you nervous." She set her
purse on the counter. "It reminds me you’re human."
"Do you have a tendency to forget?" He asked as he set his keys
down and turned on a few more lights.
"When I look into your eyes I do."
He stopped abruptly and for a moment his eyes dropped, but then he looked at
her. "Why is that?"
"Because the world just disappears when you look at
me."
She lifted her shoulders. "I’m not sure why that
is either. I just forget about everything except you and me." Then after
a short pause she said, "I like you in jeans."
He looked down. He was dressed casually in faded jeans and an old t-shirt
that had Harvard sprawled across it. "Are you teasing me?"
"No, but I think I made you blush."
"Men don’t blush," he said in a deep masculine tone.
"Is that so?"
"Yep."
He moved across the room and
opened a cupboard. "I have a ton of tea. It seems like my sister brings a
box every time she visits. Would you like some?"
Amber turned and passed by the refrigerator. The cluster of photos caught
her attention and she stopped. "I’d love a cup."
"Any specific kind?"
"No, you pick." A beautiful woman, with the same color hair as
Logan’s, hugged a young boy tightly to her in several different pictures.
"Is this your sister?"
Logan filled the kettle and set it on the stove. "Yes. Her name is Anna."
"She’s beautiful."
"The boy is her son. His name is Kevin."
"I remember you mentioning them last night. They fly up
occasionally." She tapped a picture with her finger. "Kevin looks
like a handful," she said humorously as she looked over the other pictures.
Most of them were of Kevin in different sports.
"He is. He’s all
boy
, through and
through. He keeps Anna on her toes."
"And I bet she wouldn’t have it any other way."
"No, she wouldn’t."
"And who is this?" She studied the older looking photo.
He moved next to her.
"My dad.
His name was
Dennis."
"He liked to fish?" she asked as she counted the row of fish
dangling from the stringer. Dennis’s grin held pride as he stared down at
his catch.
"He loved it."
She looked over at him. "And do you?"
"Occasionally, though I’m not very good at it. I think I would
have been better if he had lived longer so he could have taught me."
"Tell me about them. What’s your family like?"
He pointed to another picture above the ice and water dispenser. "This
is my mom. She’s standing in the middle of her vegetable garden.
She’s as passionate about her vegetables as my dad was about
fishing." He thought for a moment before he added. "She also loves
to cook and she adores her children and grandchild."
"What does Anna do?"
"She’s an associate with an accounting firm in Napa. I swear
she’s a magician with numbers. She can make profits disappear on a tax
return."
"A nice person to have in the family when you own
many businesses."
"Yes. I have no complaints about that. Anna is as affectionate as our
mom but not nearly as exuberant, which I’m grateful for because I
don’t think I could handle both of them if she were."
"They sound remarkable."
Logan turned. "Would you like me to show you around while we wait for
the water?"
"Please."
The kitchen was connected to the dining room. Cocoa brown walls encased the
room giving the space a rich, warm feeling. The large round table, ladder-back
chairs, and hardwood floors only added to the comfy character. Huge windows, on
each of the corner walls, were left untreated. "When my family comes we
eat in here."
"It’s lovely. I’ve never seen a table that big
before."
"I found it on one of my travels."
The dining room flowed seamlessly into the living room. Again, the wall
color was an earthy, light brown. Two green sofas flanked a long, coffee table.
At the head of the room, a leather recliner and a side table were angled toward
a built-in entertainment center.
"Over here is the library." He pointed.
"You have your own personal library?"
"I love to read," he said as he held open the door and she
walked in.
She took in the wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling shelves as she entered the
room. If she wasn’t impressed with the sheer number of books, she was
when she saw the rolling ladder, an antique globe in the corner, and two
overstuffed chairs. It looked like a private bookstore.
"I have it all.
Art, classic mysteries, personal
health, history, periodicals, fiction, and lots of biographies."
"Have you read all these books?"
"Most of them.
I read constantly.
Sometimes several books at once."
He watched her as
she looked at a section that held his collection of leather-bound books. She
looked almost afraid to touch them. As her fingers hovered over the titles she
read a few of them out loud. He wanted to tell her the books she was currently
touching he had read to her one summer when he was eight. But with any luck she
would remember that all on her own. "I’ve picked a lot of them up
when I travel and some have been given as gifts, others I’ve had since I
was a kid. Do you like to read?"
"Yes, but not at this level.
I’m lucky
to get in three or four books a year. And I surely don’t read them at the
same time."
"You’re always welcome to any of these." Logan moved to
the door and went out into the hall. "The rest of the house is this
way."
Amber stopped suddenly half way down the hall as she looked at a wall
covered with degrees and certificates. There must have been a half dozen of
them. Quickly her eyes moved over the documents reading each of them.
"I’m not vain." Logan said when he realized that Amber had
stopped. Turning, he made his way back toward her. "My mom insisted. She
claimed since I worked so hard for them I should display them. She surprised me
one weekend with it. I keep them up because they make her happy."
"You have a PhD," she said slowly.
"Yes."
Her eyes kept moving—reading. "Oh, my God, you have more than
one."
"Yes, I have several," he said slowly as he noted her tone.
"And a MBA and a—"
"Please, you’re embarrassing me." He moved in front of her
when he realized she couldn’t look away from them. Anxiety twisted her
features and it caused his heart to leap. He never thought that his education
would be this shocking to her. From the moment she had come to him she had
known how intelligent he was. In fact she used to call him smarty-pants when
they were kids. She had liked that he was smart. "Why do you look at them
like that?"
"I shouldn’t be here," she said abruptly.
"What?" He said hoarsely not sure where his voice went or why
she suddenly seemed so disturbed. Though he faced her, she wasn’t looking
at him. She was looking around him at the wall. "Amber, what is
it—"
"What am I doing here?" She shook her head. "This
isn’t a good idea. I should go."
"Please, don’t leave."
She turned and looked down the hall but didn’t take a step. Slowly,
her eyes moved back to his degrees.
"Amber—"
"This isn’t going to work," she said hopelessly.
"Look at me. Stop looking at them and look at me," he said calmly.
When she made eye contact he looked at her with all the honesty that he
possessed. "Yes, it will."
She shook her head despondently. "We’re fooling ourselves if we
believe that."
"Why?" he asked hesitantly.
When she didn’t speak, his heart slammed into his ribs. He could tell
by the look in her eyes that she was slipping away. He held his breath, waiting
for her response.
"I really need to go." She stared aimlessly down the hall.
"My car is back at the restaurant. If you could drive me—"
"Amber, I’ll take you wherever you want." He reached for
her arm. "I promise. But first, before you go, I want you to answer the
question. Why don’t you think this will work?"
"We are from two different worlds," her voice shook and her eyes
were wide with apprehension.
"That doesn’t mean anything."
"It means everything," she insisted critically.
There was a pause as Logan thought about and chose the words that would keep
her there or send her running for the door. Right now he wanted to tell her
everything. He wanted her to know that they always met up. No matter what the
lifetime or who they were they always connected. But he knew it would be better
if she remembered on her own. "So, we’re from two different worlds.
Why can’t they meet? Why can’t we find some type of common ground
in the midst of our differences?"
Finally, she broke her gaze and looked at him. "Because, you’re
at one end of the spectrum and I’m at the other. It’s not
possible."
"Anything is possible."
"You might believe that but I don’t."
"I know that isn’t true. You believe—"
"This isn’t a fairytale, Logan." She shook her head as her
frustration built. "You’re educated, you own businesses,
you
have a home—"
"Stop."
His fingers touched her lips.
"I know what our differences are."
"I’ve never even been to college," she said helplessly.
"Hell, I barely made it out of high school."
Logan could tell that the admission was a difficult one for her. "That
has nothing to do with us." He gazed up at the wall. "They are just
pieces of paper. That’s all."
"They are more than that."
He shrugged indifferently. "Not to me."
"Then why are there so many?"
"It pleased my mom every time I got one." He swung an arm around
her shoulders and drew her in close; he could feel her coming back to him. She
was relaxing under his touch and the uncertainty in her voice was easing.
"Academics have always been easy for me. They weren’t really that
hard to obtain."
"Now I know you’re lying."
"I promise you I’m not."
"Are you a genius?"
He smiled at her question because he had heard her ask it before.
"Truthfully, I was using college to kill time."
Resting her head on his chest she looked at the collection of degrees neatly
framed and artfully arranged. "What were you killing time for?"
"I was waiting." He gently kissed her cheek and when she lifted
her head he found her mouth. "I was waiting for you," he whispered
on her lips. "I’ve always been waiting for you."
Touching his face, she kissed him back.
"Will you please stay?" he asked.
"Yes, I’ll stay."
Taking her by her hand, Logan showed her three large guest rooms with three
adjacent bathrooms, before they turned down another wing to a meticulous office
decorated with mahogany furniture. Every kind of electronic an office should
have was arranged purposely on a large working center that wrapped around two
walls.
Walking out of the office Logan said, "The game room is this
way."
Amber smiled as she entered the spacious room. Two pinball machines sat
side-by-side against a brightly painted wall. A Ping-Pong table was placed
perfectly in the center, and a television with dozens of video games and
controls occupied the space to her left.
"Kevin’s
paradise?"
"You could say that. We have a lot of fun in this room" He
turned. "My room is this way."
The master bedroom was enormous and definitely masculine. A bed, with
handsome green bedding, sat opposite a large picture window that took full
advantage of the view. The furniture was rustic and consisted of two
nightstands, a nine-drawer dresser, and a leather chair. A gas fireplace with a
thick, stone mantle gave the room a cozy feel. The pictures on the walls were
of simple landscapes and, like the rest of the house, the windows were bare.
"Your bedroom is bigger than my entire apartment." She followed
him into the bathroom where the first thing she saw was an oversized jetted tub
and his and her vanities. "This is heaven."
"I’m glad you like it."
Amber leaned over the tub and looked out the window at the view. "How
could I not, it’s magnificent. It reminds me of a fancy hotel."
"I can’t take much credit. Anna did all the decorating and my
mom added her touches, too." When she stood up he pulled her into his
arms. He held her there for a minute before he asked. "You okay?"
"Yes."
"Good." He had to admit she looked better than she had ten
minutes ago. The panic that looked as if it would propel her out the front door
had subsided. "You scared me back there."
"I’m sorry I didn’t mean to lose it like that. Your home,
your life—" she smiled meekly and said, "and you are so far
from what I’m used to."
He pushed the hair away from her face, tucking the short strands behind her
ear. "And what are you used to?"
"For lack of a better word I’d have to say, simplicity."
"My life may appear overwhelming, but I promise you, you’ll find
that I’m just the opposite."
"You’re a simple man?"
"I am."
She looked around the grand bathroom they were standing in.
"That’s going to take a lot of convincing on your part."
"I’m up for the challenge." He dropped his head and kissed
her lips, moving his fingers through her hair and gently touching the back of
her neck. If seeing his degrees gave her that much apprehension he could only
image how she would react to everything else he intended to tell her. "I
think I hear the kettle."