Best Laid Plans (22 page)

Brian Neuman never enjoyed
restaurants, tripping the light fantastic, counting the stars and making silly
wishes. Brian had been boring. Maybe he had infected her with that disease,
too.

Even white teeth broke the crunchy
crust on the heel of the garlic bread. Amanda covertly surveyed the other man
in her life. She had teasingly said that old
Love Story
line, but it was
true. She did love Lucas. But there were many types of love, and their
relationship had always been platonic.

Platonic?
She ruefully admitted her attitude
had not been very sisterly toward Lucas. She no longer relegated him to
brother
status. Suddenly, he had become a fantasy lover. So real that in the magic of
midnight, his remembered scent, voice and touch gave him more than phantom
qualifications. The thought of having sex with Lucas made her body feel
wondrous things.

Damn! For a girl who had no dates in
high school, three in college, maybe another half dozen when she was working
and one almost serious relationship, Amanda was surprised by her sudden wealth.
Maybe she should treat Lucas and Wade as equals - recognize that both were
attractive, accessible men.

She did the dishes by hand that
night, studying the luminescent soapsuds for inspiration. It always seemed to
work for the women in the TV commercials! At the end of an hour, Amanda decided
to follow the fortune cookie's advice: She already owned her soul, perhaps now
was the time to share her heart. Or, at least, let her head stop ruling it!

After tidying up the kitchen, Amanda
returned to the newly furnished alcove. Lucas was comfortably ensconced in his
recliner, the table lamp's low light directed on the current issue of
Law
Review
.

"While the weather outside is
frightful, we can still enjoy a camper's favorite dessert." She jiggled a
bag of marshmallows and held up two shish kebab skewers. Her curly head nodded
toward the crackling logs, eyebrows arched suggestively: "Want to play
flaming gourmet?"

Lucas took a moment to add two of
Amanda's favorite classic CD's into the player: Barry White and Elvis, before
joining her at the hearth. "I love having a fire at night." The brass
poker revived the tapering flames. "The rains cool things off enough so I can
still indulge."

"I remember lighting my
fireplace in August and having the air conditioning on at the same time."
She grinned engagingly. "I felt frightfully wicked and disgracefully
guilty about energy conservation."

"But that didn't stop you."

"You know me too well."
Amanda wiggled two plump marshmallows on each skewer. "Do you remember the
last time we did this?"

His dark brows drew together for a
thoughtful moment, then Lucas smiled. "My folks' place in Maine."

She nodded. "Your sister Kathy
filled her cheeks like a chipmunk, and you hit them!" Her tongue clicked
against the roof of her mouth. "Naughty boy!"

"Hey, weren't you the girl who
trapped all those fireflies in the peanut butter jar?"

"Trying to conserve
energy," came her defensive comment. "I got enough light to read
by." Amanda gave him a soft smile. "Did I ever thank you enough for
forcing me to go with you for those two weeks?"

"No, I don't think you
did."

"Well, then," she lifted
the lit confections from the fire, "allow me to recreate the moment."
The gold-based blue flame that toasted the marshmallow's exterior was reflected
in her clear eyes. Pursing full lips, her cool breath extinguished the glow.
She pulled the spun sugar free and offered the crisp yet squishy dessert to
Lucas.

His teeth scraped her fingertips in
anxious consumption of the spongy morsel. His lips held her finger in place so
his tongue could savor any residue. "Delicious." His husky tone
conveyed a deeper meaning.

Their eyes locked. Mesmerized,
Amanda's mouth moistened the same finger Lucas had relinquished, then slowly
proceeded to clean the dark hairs of his moustache. "Messy," she
whispered, closely inspecting the results.

Of their own volition, Lucas' hands
spanned her waist, masculine fingers sliding half under the silken blouse to
caress velvety skin that disappeared into the band of her black cotton slacks.

Amanda didn't pull back. Her torso
leaned forward to rest against his chest, full breasts pressed into the thin
white cotton T-shirt that covered his warm flesh. She found herself responding
to him. The closeness. The excitement. The sweet torture. Her body was aroused
and pulsing with desire.

Play turned to passion. Her hands
locked around Lucas' head, her face tilted in silent encouragement, her mouth
parted invitingly. In a single breathtaking moment, their lips made a tender
merger. His lips were hard. Demanding. Hers soft. Responsive. His tongue
slipped into her open mouth and found a welcoming mate.

Lucas couldn't seem to get her close
enough. His hands slid back under her shirt, the callouses on his fingers
finding comfort against her warm, soft flesh. There was no bra band to stop his
exploration, so his hands moved around to palm the sides of her full breasts.
His thumbs easily found the hardened nubs.

Amanda's erratic breathing was little
more than sighs that seemed to be swallowed by his greedy mouth. When the rough
pads of his thumbs began their sensuous torment of her nipples, she felt a
series of electric shocks jolt her pelvis and turn her entire body into one quivering
mass of need. Of want. Of demand.

With a low moan, Lucas broke contact
with her mouth, but his arms still held her trembling body prisoner. "I...
I'm not sure how that happened."

"I wanted it," came her
hushed confession as she tried to normalize her breathing.

"To compare against Wade?"

"No."

He smiled at her rude tone.

Amanda straightened slightly.
"Am I being compared to Kitty?"

"She's been compared to
you." Lucas hesitated, cleared his throat and added, "Quite a few woman
have been compared to you."

"And?"

"You've always won."

Amanda finally looked at Lucas. Her
vulnerable expression matched his. "This is a new step for us."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I'm not sure." Gentle
fingertips smoothed the frown from his mouth. "Right this minute, I'm not
sure about anything."

Eight

"Coward!" Amanda was just
about to make an ugly face in her dresser mirror but found she didn't have to.
Her reflection was hardly complimentary. Dark pockets of flesh framed
lackluster eyes, frown lines etched her mouth, an invisible weight rounded
normally square shoulders - all indicative of a sleepless night.

From the sounds that emanated from
Lucas' room, he too had spent the night in something less than restful slumber.
Lights had gone on. Then off. Footsteps echoed against the teak floor in the
hallway. Shadows moved beneath the threshold of her door.

Collapsing on the edge of her neatly
made bed, Amanda stared at her hands, sweaty fingers twisting aimlessly
together. This morning she had stayed in her room feigning sleep, deliberately
missing breakfast and avoiding Lucas. She hadn't known what to say. She just
couldn't face him.

Last night a new door had been
opened. But was it the right door? Their relationship had always been free, easy,
honest, secure. A bit of heaven. Had that all been destroyed? Would that one
kiss – a real man-woman kiss - spoil everything they had shared over the years?

Damn! She just couldn't sit and mope
all day. Get busy, get involved. Work it off. Maybe she'd contribute to the
growing stack of firewood in the backyard!

Instead, Amanda watered the window
garden, turning the thriving plants so all sides could bask in the warm
sunshine. She dusted the furniture, straightened lampshades, vacuumed the new
carpets, trying to get motivated. By noon, a modicum of energy had been
restored. Amanda decided to head to a nearby suburban shopping mall. Purse
slung over her shoulder, newspaper in hand, she opened the front door and
backed into Wade Lloyd.

"Whoa." His arms slid
around her waist, hands locking over the knot of her front-wrap denim skirt.
"Slow down, Amanda." His affable grin filled her vision. "The
afternoon was much too beautiful to spend indoors, and I remembered your
enthusiasm for picnics, so . . ." Wade lifted the wicker hamper that was
sitting on the front step.

Amanda's feelings were a mixture of
annoyance and flattery. Spontaneity was exciting, but so was courtesy. She had
always found the latter more endearing. "This is quite a surprise."
Her hands made confused gestures. "I...I was just on my way out."

"What could be so urgent that it
couldn't be put off until tomorrow?" his deep voice cajoled. "I had
the deli pack a very special lunch. Pita sandwich pockets overflowing with rare
roast beef, a sample of gourmet cheeses, fresh green grapes, giant strawberries
and chilled French Columbard."

Wade's vibrant blue eyes rivaled
nature's tinted sky; his knuckles flowed along the curve of Amanda's jaw.
"Why don't you exchange your blouse and skirt for a bathing suit and
jeans. We'll saddle the horses and adjourn this discussion to the pond."

Her lips curved into a smile. "I
think you've made me an offer I can't refuse." Her hand patted the green
alligator on his blue knit shirt.

Buttercup was skittish of her new rider.
Amanda had to dismount Maisy, grab the other horse's curb bit and cheek strap,
which finally enabled Wade to mount. "I think she can tell I haven't done
this in a while," he said and laughed, settling a bit uncomfortably into
the saddle.

"Nonsense. You have a natural
seat." Amanda's serious tone belied the laughter in her eyes. Her heels
cued Maisy down the well-worn trail to the pond. Randomly, she turned back to
check on the much slower progress of Wade and Buttercup.

This was a different Wade Lloyd. Gone
was the perfectly tailored business suit, professional manner and luxury car.
In their place was a denim and sport shirt man, slightly unsure of himself and
this type of horsepower.

Amanda found she liked the
vulnerability he was exhibiting. The rigid shell was broken, the real man was
exposed. A smile lightened previously pensive features. She was very glad Wade
arrived today. She liked him. But she was also aware that being with Wade was
infinitely less complicated than thinking about Lucas.

The glasslike pond mirrored the sky,
a rich blue with dollops of whipped-cream clouds. "This was worth
it." Wade dismounted. He took a deep breath, stretched and relaxed stiff
muscles that hadn't been used in years.

"The water temperature is a bit
chilly," she advised, tethering the horses and unbuckling the backpacks
that carried their luncheon supplies.

"I'm game." He stripped off
his clothes, his athletic physique emphasized by snug-fitting black swim trunks
piped in red. "Coming?" Wade held out his hand.

The picnic blanket was tossed under a
tree, the packs carefully set aside. Amanda pulled the emerald terry shirt over
her head and stepped out of her jeans. Her supple figure encased in a burgundy
leotard that did double duty as a swimsuit, the keyhole-style neckline
accentuating full breasts.

Hand in hand, five running strides
sent the laughing couple splashing in the brisk, waist-deep water. "You
weren't exaggerating," Wade said and shuddered, lifting his arms for her
inspection. Goose bumps sprang amid the dark, curly hair.

"You poor thing," Amanda
cooed, her expression totally guileless. She insinuated herself between his
arms, hers lifting in an embrace, but the palms that rubbed his broad chest
were filled with icy liquid.

He caught her hands, holding them
tight against his hair-roughened torso. They became warm under his body heat.
"You are a rascal." Blue eyes glittered a momentary warning.

She took a deep breath, waiting for
the expected dunking but found instead her mouth covered by a more provocative
form of moisture. Wade's lips were gently persuasive, his tongue teased hers.
They played a skillful duel. Intimate foils engaged in masculine thrusts and
lunges against feminine parries and ripostes.

Amanda's toes burrowed into the firm
mud, glad of the sobering ripples that washed against her legs. "I think
we're making the water boil," came her sultry murmur, hands cradling his
face.

Wade's fingertips zigzagged an
electric trail the length of her backbone, finally settling low on her spine.
"I missed you yesterday. What did you do?" His passion-dark gaze
concentrated on her lips.

"Slept late."

"Dream about me?"

Her throaty laugh taunted and mocked.
"I think the way to your heart is through your ego, Mr. Lloyd."
Amanda gave him a rough push that sent him stumbling backward into the water.
Turning, she struck out for the other side of the pond, becoming more refreshed
and exhilarated. She wasn't sure if it was due to the energies expended
swimming or the presence of her male companion.