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Authors: Lori Copeland

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“I can't believe it! Craig! It's so good to see you,” Nancy gushed. “It's been so long.”

“Yes.” He smiled. “What? Five years.”

Temple chanced a look. She could see the tightness forming around his mouth.

“You're probably meeting someone, but sit down for a minute, will you? I've kept up with you through Temple.” Nancy grinned, fawning over him.

“Have you?” Pulling out a chair, he sat down.

“Gosh, you look good,” Nancy said. Her eyes reflected her admiration. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Wonderful.”

Squeezing his arm, she gritted her teeth, speaking affectionately, “Actually, I'm so glad we bumped into each other.”

Craig's eyes moved to Temple. “Oh?”

“Yes.” She leaned closer. “I wanted to apologize.”

Surprise flickered in Craig's eyes. “Apologize?” “Yes.” Turning to Temple, she said. “You knew how upset I was when Craig broke off the relationship.”

Craig and Temple both looked uncomfortable now. Temple hoped Nancy wouldn't make a scene. This was her second chance with Craig, possibly a new beginning, surely she wouldn't spoil it.

“What you don't know, Temple, is how ghastly I behaved.”

“Nancy, it's none of my business,” Temple murmured.

“Nancy,” Craig warned. “It's not necessary to get into thisâ”

“But I want to, Craig. Really.” Nancy's eyes mirrored remorse. “I've felt so bad about what happened, but I knew you wanted no further contact with me, so I quit trying to call you. I don't know why I did the stupid things I did ... maybe because I was hurt and angry, but that's no excuse.”

“Things?” Temple asked.

“Things like...coating his apartment with Preparation Hâ”

Temple's gaze flicked to Craig.

Nancy shrugged. “It seemed appropriate, considering what he'd done and how I felt.” She smiled. “But that didn't ease my wounded ego, so I smashed bananas into the interior of his car... that helped some,” she admitted.

“It was at least a hundred degrees in that car, Nancy!”

“I know that, Craig, why do you think I smashed bananas in it? Revenge isn't revenge unless it's revenge, silly.”

Temple didn't know what to say, and Craig refused to look at her. She'd had no idea the breakup had been so ugly. Craig had never said a word.

“I was so damn angry at you, Craig Stevens,” Nancy continued. “I, well, kept calling because I couldn't let go. I know now that you were right, of course. The relationship would have never worked, and I'm grateful you had the foresight to recognize it.”

Craig's eyes met hers. “I hope you mean that, Nancy.”

“I do, Craig, with all my heart. I would have told you sooner, but I didn't think you wanted to see meâunder any circumstances.”

“But Nancy.” Temple looked puzzled. “You always ask about Craigâyou're still in love with him. I can hear it in your voice each time we talk.”

Nancy laughed. “You're probably right.” She glanced at Craig, smiling. “You really did a number on me, Flyboy. Fool that I am, I'll always love you, in my own way, but I've moved on,” she said. “My life is so full I don't have time to moon over love lost. I'm wiser now, Craig. Because you had the courage to do what you did, I finally grew up. I'm going out with a wonderful man, and we both hope it will eventually lead to marriage.”

“But you keep asking about Craig in your letters,” Temple said.

“Because I wanted to know that he was doing okay, silly!” Nancy turned back to Craig. “I'm happy, Craig. And a great deal of the credit goes to you. I wanted to make sure you were happy, too.”

“That's wonderful,” Temple managed to say, surprised by the turn of events.

“Forgive me, Craig?”

“You come near my car with bananasâ”

“I won't, I promise.” She laughed, crossing her heart and giving the Girl Scout sign.

Craig leaned over, and kissed Nancy lightly on the lips. When Nancy started to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, shaking his finger at her.

Grinning, she shrugged. “A girl's gotta try, hasn't she?”

Craig stood, pointing a finger at Temple. “You and I will talk later.”

As he left the table, Nancy laughed with relief. “Thanks, pal.”

Temple lifted her eyebrows. “For what?”

“For setting this up.”

“What makes you thinkâ”

“You never could be devious, Temple. Face it. Besides, I knew if I mentioned Craig's name, you'd make sure we bumped into each other.”

Temple reached for a chip. “I feel so used.”

“Don't. I needed to get that behind me, and I desperately wanted to tell him how much I appreciated what he did back then. He never told you what happened?”

“Never. Not a word.” She only wished he had.

“It figures,” Nancy said. “He's too much of a gentleman to air his dirty laundry in public.”

But I'm not public, Temple thought. I'm Temple, his best friend. He should have told me.

“I honestly didn't know how you felt about him,” Temple admitted.

“I would have told you, but I was too embarrassed. He's a great guy,” Nancy said. “I often wished things could have been different between us, but they weren't and that's okay. I was a spoiled brat, and he didn't want to take on the project of raising me. He was right to break up the relationship. Better then than five years later.” She picked up her menu. “Gee, spilling one's guts makes one ravenous. What shall we have for dessert that's sinfully rich and definitely not on my diet.”

Still reeling from what had just transpired, Temple stared at the menu without seeing it.

Okay, Burney, your one remaining excuse for not falling for Craig is gone. Now what?

S
ETTING TWO soft drinks in front of Craig and Scotty, Ginny laughed. “Where'd you get the shiner?”

Craig studied the purple strip turning green beneath his left eye in the mirror behind the lunch counter, frowning.

“The ex from Virginia track you down?” Scotty popped the tab on a can of soda and poured it into his glass.

“Actually, she did.” For years, he'd successfully avoided Nancy. Now Temple was avoiding him. “But I got the black eye from in-line skating.”

“In-line skating?” Scotty laughed.

“Celia's into in-line skating.”

“Celia being the tall, well-built, athletic blonde Pete set you up with?”

“Well-built? I didn't noticeâmaybe because I was flat on my back the two hours we spent together.”

“Wow.” Ginny grinned evilly. “On your back?”

“Sprawled, Ginny,” he said. “And it wasn't a pretty sight. I told her I didn't in-line skate, but she insisted anyone could in-line skate.”

“I told her I couldn't skate, period, but she told me to stop being so modest. âYou look athletic, and you've got good coordination,'” he mocked in a lilting imitation of a feminine voice.

“And you proved her wrong.”

“Did I ever.” He touched his cheek gingerly, wincing. He recounted the incident to his friends.

Sunday had been a beautiful day, he told them, and Celia was a beautiful woman. All long tanned legs stretching a mile from short white shorts, and a great smile. The park had been full of weekend sports enthusiasts.

“Don't you just love it?” she'd enthused.

Actually, he didn't. He didn't even like it. He'd never been a park kind of guy. Baseball, football, okay. But more as a spectator than a participant. He supposed he'd spent too much time in the cockpit of a plane to enjoy strolling in the park.

But Celia was obviously an outdoors fiend. Flinging her arms wide, she drew a deep, cleansing breath, expanding her 34A to a 38C. An impressive feat.

“Wouldn't you rather take a drive?” he suggested.

“No. Come on, spoilsport. I'll bet you can use the exercise. Nothing like fresh air to make a body feel good.”

Well, she was a fine example of a good body.

Celia helped him get the blades on and hauled him to his feet. He was wobbly, but she was encouraging.

“Carefulâ”

His feet shot out from under him, arms flailing, and he slammed head-on into a tree trunk.

Celia burst into laughter, then belatedly covered her mouth with both hands.

His ears were ringing and he shook his head to clear it, peering up at her through a fog.

“Come on, now,” she said. “Concentrate, Craigee. You can do it.”

Getting back on his feet, he managed to remain upright all of thirty seconds before his feet went into a frenzied scissors kick and he was down again.

“If you can walk, you can in-line-skate,” Celia said.

At this point, he wasn't sure he could even walk.

Grasping his arm, she hauled him up again. By this time, they'd attracted a crowd, though people were being circumspect and watching from a distance.

“Come on,” she encouraged. “Hang on to me.”

Practically crawling up her leg, Craig tried to steady himself. It was a matter of pride now.

Holding on to Celia, he managed to move both feet ahead about six inches before they started leaving him. Arms frantically whipping the air, he went down again; this time taking her with him.

She laughed and together they crawled upright again. Before he knew it, he was hurtling downhill, forty, then fifty miles an hour and picking up speed. Wind stung his eyes and he wondered which was worseâblading this fast anticipating the fall, or the fall itself, for sure as hell he was going down again.

“Yes!” Celia cried out. “That's it! Now you're getting the hang of it!”

He was! And it actually felt good!

Oh, God. He was going too fast. His feet were getting ahead of himâ

The next thing he knew, he'd bulldozed two mature trees with his face.

When he'd opened his eyes this time, he was strapped to a gurney in the hospital emergency room. It felt as if every bone in his body was shattered.

“Lie still, Mr. Stevens,” the doctor ordered.

He groaned. “How many broken ribs?” He'd be off work for weeks.

“You were lucky. A few bruises and abrasions. That eye's going to be a shiner by morning,” she told him.

“Thanks.” He closed his eyes.

“I'll write you a prescription for painkillers and you can go home.”

Wishing he was already home so he didn't have to move, Craig made a vow. No more wheels.

“I decided,” he ended his story, “that if God wanted wheels on my feet, he'd have put them there personally.”

“Tough break.” Scotty chuckled.

Wiping off the counter, Ginny suddenly stopped and waved at someone behind them. “Temple's here.”

“I can see that,” Craig mumbled.

“She hates exercise.”

Craig stared at his soda broodingly. It was now close to a week since Temple had spoken to him in anything other than monosyllables, and then only when she brought coffee to the cockpit. He knew why she was avoiding him. She thought she had violated some sacred code that night in Houston. Hell, she hadn't even acknowledged that the incident had happened. But she couldn't avoid him forever. Eventually, they'd have to talk about it.

CRAIG AND SCOTTY were going through the preflight checklist when Temple brought their coffee. She was wearing her hair in a French roll, her cap tilted pertly over her right eyebrow, and she smelled of vanilla. She looked rested, prettier than ever, or was he was just looking closer than usual?

“Hi, guys,” she said cheerfully.

“Hello.” Scotty reached for his flight bag. “Got a little something for you. From me and the captain.”

“For me? Why?”

“Because you're so special,” Scotty said.

“Gee, thanks.” She laughed warily. “I didn't know you cared.”

Avoiding Craig's gaze, she opened the little box Scotty handed her. It was a bar pin with the inscription O
.
MISS in block letters.

“What's this?”

Scotty looked puzzled. “That's your name, isn't it? O. Miss, can you bring me more coffee? O. Miss, would you dispose of my barf bag, please?' ”

Temple grinned. “Why, you're right. Thank you. I shall wear this with pride.”

She pinned it on her breast pocket in place of her official name tag.

Craig dropped his clipboard in a side pocket with a decided thump. “Scotty, can you find something to occupy yourself for a couple of minutes? I'd like a word with Temple.”

“Talk away, I won't listen.” He grinned, his eyebrows arched in an innocent look.

“In private, Scotty.”

“'Scuse me. Just had a nature call.”

Temple stepped aside as Scotty squeezed past her, shutting the cockpit door behind him.

She looked at Craig apprehensively. “What's going on?”

He tossed his sunglasses on the console. “That's what I want to find out.”

“Craigâ”

“Sit down.”

“Maybe I don't want to sitâ”

“Sit down, Temple.”

The tight anger in his voice was very unusual. She sat.

“If it's about Nancy, I had no ideaâ”

“It has nothing to do with Nancy.”

She sat for a moment, thinking.

“It's about us,” he said. “You and me. We can't avoid each other forever.”

He was right. They couldn't avoid each other forever, although she had been working at it. She wasn't ready to talk about what had happened in Houston.

When he didn't go on, she finally looked up at him.

His voice was firm, final. “Dinner. Tonight, seven oâclock. O'Kief's.”

Well, whatever she'd expected, this wasn't it. She hesitated, then stood.

His gaze locked with hers. “Don't stand me up.”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded, then left the cockpit.

Scotty was leaning against the bulkhead. “Everything okay?”

“Just ducky,” she said. Throughout the flight, Temple was all thumbs. She delivered wrong beverages, stepped on an elderly woman's foot and dropped a full pot of coffee in the galley. The flight seemed endless.

After checking out that afternoon, she walked to her truck, stopping short when she saw Craig's Lincoln sitting perfectly between the lines of his parking space.

Tears smarted her eyes.

See. Things have changed between us. The things I loved most about our relationship. The comfortableness, the trustâthe lane sharking. A sob caught in her throat.
You've done it now, Burney. It's gone. All gone
.

O'KIEF'S WAS QUIET for a weeknight. Craig and Temple followed the waiter to a booth in the corner well away from the noisy kitchen. Tension was almost palpable as they scanned the menu and placed their orders. When the waiter left, Craig released an audible breath. Resting his forearms on the table, he leaned forward and let his gaze roam over her face. Temple studied him in return. She didn't want to recognize how good he looked to her in the blue oxford shirt and navy blazer. She was having enough trouble thinking straight.

“I thought you'd at least call me,” he said.

Not trusting her voice, Temple stared at her water glass.

“Okay, let's have it,” he said. “What's bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“Something's wrong,” he insisted. “I'm not blind. You've barely said three words to me all week that weren't work-related.”

“Nonsense. It's...your imagination.”

“Is it my imagination that you've stopped lane-sharking that piece of junk you drive? You've parked right for the past week.”

“I haven't!” Glancing worriedly around, she lowered her voice. “You're the one who started parking right, not me.”

“I'm parking right because you're parking right!”

“Craig, if I have been parking right, it's certainly been unintentional.”

“I don't think so. I think it's something else.”

Had she been so preoccupied lately that she'd forgotten to torment him?

He studied her for a long moment and she had the insane urge to cry.

“I...I don't know what's wrong,” she said.

“I don't, either. I just know that I miss you,” be said softly.

The knot in her stomach tightened. “I miss you, too,” she whispered.

The silence between them held for several moments.

“Tell me about Nancy,” he said.

She knew this was coming, but knowing it didn't soften the sharp feeling of jealousy and embarrassment.

“What about her?”

“What was she doing in town?”

“Taking care of business, she said.”

“She said that you two have kept in touch over the years. How come I didn't know that?”

“You don't know everything,” she managed to say.

“Don't you think that might have been something I wanted to know?”

With exaggerated fascination, she studied a drop of water making its way down the glass. “I...thought it would be painful for you. You never talked about her, you ended the relationship...”

He let the silence stretch for an unreasonably long time.

“You thought I still had feelings for her,” he said at last.

“Yes.”

“I'thought we trusted each otherâ”

She looked up in surprise. “I do trust you!”

“Then if you ever have a question about something that affects me, like Nancy, or anything else, talk to me about it. Understand?”

“Okay.” She felt incredibly foolish.

“Just to clear the record. I knew it wouldn't work between me and Nancy. Anything more you want to ask?”

“No.”