It's Just Love (9 page)

“I have one.”

“You have one what?” Coral leaned back in the leather seat
and pressed her hand to the cool glass of the side window. Gage had raised the
top, and no wind buffeted them on the trip. She could have had him do that on
the way, she supposed, but it had all worked out. She’d never have met
Elizabeth if he had. What a story that would be to tell her
grandchildren—Elizabeth Benner, famous star, had brushed her hair.

Their pleasant dinner and extraordinary dessert left her
mellow and relaxed. She watched the ocean fly by as they headed south on
Pacific Coast Highway, leaving Malibu and its colony of the rich and famous
behind. Ahead, she could see the lights of the cars winding along the highway,
red for the southbound, white for north. She was satisfied to sit like this
until she got home, but his comment puzzled her. What did he have?

“I have a sailboat. You must not have heard me mention it
earlier.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You must get a lot of enjoyment out of
it.” She pushed herself straighter in the seat. “Do you go out weekends? Ever
go to Catalina or Mexico?”

“No.” His voice was very low. “I don’t have time to use it.”

He had her attention. “You have a sailboat. You paid for it.
And you never use it? Never just go out to feel the wind and maybe see some
dolphins?” He had to mean he rarely used it; nobody could spend all that money,
go to all that trouble, and never use their boat.

“I rent it out, through a service, so it’s not expensive to
keep.” He steered smoothly into one turn and then another, following the lane
markers, whizzing past houses and open stretches of sandy beach. Far out in the
ocean, a tanker caught her attention, a few lights showing how high it sat in
the water. Maybe empty. She watched the great ships go by often.

But his boat. “You don’t want to use it?” How sad to own
something like a sailboat, capable of flying over the waves, taking him
anywhere, and never—

“I don’t have time.” He stopped at a red light, a little
jerkily, and she glanced over. His eyes straight ahead, jaw set, he had changed
since their chocolate feast. More like the man she’d met in the studio parking
lot. Shut down.

She let the subject drop, but in her mind she clung to the
mast on a sailboat out on the waves, on a windy afternoon, her hair streaming
out behind her, like in the car on the way to dinner. It had been kind of nice,
free and wild.

They arrived in Venice, in front of her little house and, so
late at night, parking was non-existent. “You can let me out here.”

“I’d walk you to the door, but…”

“Double-park and you’d have a ticket in five minutes. You got
lucky earlier. The local police make a lot of money from that.” She grasped the
handle and pushed the door open. “But I appreciate the thought.”

“Sure. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. Same time?”

Like a real date. Where her escort would kiss her good
night, even if he couldn’t find a place to park. Tension hung in the air, and
she licked her lips. What would he do if she leaned over and pressed her lips
to his? She met his gaze and froze. Shadows cast by the streetlight fell over his
face, giving him the mien of a black-and-white movie idol. Her fingers fell
from the door handle and she lifted her chin. Gage leaned closer. Coral parted
her lips, her gaze focused on the stubble on his jaw, her breath shallow in her
chest—

A blare of rap music from a passing car made them both jump,
and the tension broke, like a string pulled too tight, snapping her back into
the moment, into reality.

She sat straight, horrified. He had a girlfriend. She had no
business even considering kissing him. It must be the chocolate and the
romantic ambiance of their dinner. Goddess! Humiliation heated her face, and
she was grateful for the dim light that would cloak the sign of her
embarrassment. Scrambling for normalcy, she ran over the last few lines of their
conversation in her mind.

Tomorrow?
“Right, the movies. I wonder what Charlie
and Elise will decide to see.”

His deep chuckle rolled over her. “I doubt they’ll be able
to pick a movie, the pair of them, as different as they are.”

She smiled, relieved to be back on an even footing. Despite
his closed-minded attitude about romance, his laughter was contagious. “Well,
the cameraman can always break the tie.”

“Whatever they want to see, we need to focus and observe
them better this time.” He raised his hand in a brief wave, and she headed for
her door. As she slid the key in the lock and turned the knob, he roared away.

“Kansas, I’m home,” she called, leaving her purse on the
table in the foyer. “Come have a snack.” She moved into the kitchen, flipped
the light switch on, and poured a saucer of milk for the cat, who twined around
her ankles. Coral bent to pet his glossy fur. “I ate a lot, nothing for me,
baby. Go ahead and enjoy.” She wandered to the bedroom to change to a soft,
white cotton nightgown and returned to the kitchen again to pick up the empty
dish and put it in the sink.

Restless, she went into the living room and turned the
television on. She flipped channels on the remote, but nothing caught her
attention and she clicked the set off. Sighing, she decided to go to bed. It
had been a pleasant evening, but her faux date somehow left her feeling off,
odd. Maybe she needed a real date. Maybe it was time to move on.

She picked up a framed picture. “What do you say, Sid? Time
for me to have a real life?” His friendly face, his mischievous grin, offered
no advice. “When I had you, I held back until it was too late. I missed out on
you.” She shrugged. What a colossal mess.

Of course, her lack of a personal life accounted to some
extent for her response to the first handsome man to pull out her chair or hold
a door open. She placed the photo of Sid back on the shelf between a jade
Buddha and a Celtic carving in old, dark wood.

Ready to call it a night, she flipped off the light. “Come
on, Kansas. Keep me company tonight.”

The cat looked up from his post at the glass-paned front
door. His gleaming eyes sparkled in the streetlight, but he didn’t move. Coral
sighed and twisted the lock, pulling the door open. She leapt back.

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” Gage stood on her porch, not
two feet away from her, holding her wrap. “You forgot this.”

She recovered, reaching for the woven garment. “Oh, umm,
thank you.” Unfolding her shawl, she let it drape in front of her, concealing
her short nightgown. His eyes roamed her, nonetheless, a small grin playing
about his lips. “I was just letting the cat out. There you go, Kansas.”

“The cat?”

The stubborn beast had disappeared. “Well he was here…he
was!” She struggled to hold onto the last of her dignity. “I suppose you’re double
parked. You’d better be going.”

“I found a spot.” Triumph rang in his voice. “I was going to
just return this to you tomorrow, but a man pulled out of a space right down
the street.”

“Oh, wow.” She tried to think, never sure what to do in
these situations. Should she say good night? Did manners require her to invite
him in for coffee? He was so tall, and that troublesome lock of hair drooped
across his forehead again. She clenched her fists in the fabric to avoid
reaching for it, smoothing it back where it belonged.

Her mouth dried out, and she could hear her breath rasping.
She was about to have a fainting spell or something equally melodramatic.
Goddess,
no.
Her nightgown would end up over her head, exposing the old, comfy
undies underneath. The potential for humiliation steadied her.

“Okay, well, you’re right. I’d better go.” He gave her a
full smile and waved. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He’d made it off the porch and down two steps before her
tongue freed itself from the roof of her parched mouth and the words emerged.
“Would you like some coffee? Tea maybe?”

Gage stopped. For a long moment he didn’t answer, just faced
away from her. Then he spun on his heel. “Love some. Coffee that is, can’t
stand tea.”

“It’s herbal tea,” she babbled.

“Still…you did say coffee, right?”

“Sure, as long as it’s not too late at night for you to have
it?”

“I think I can hold my coffee.” He laughed. “Never keeps me
awake at all. Nothing does.”

* * * *

Famous last words. He should never have had that coffee.
He’d sat at Coral’s kitchen table, drinking cup after cup of strong brew, while
she regaled him with tales of spells gone awry, clients who got what they asked
for but regretted their desires.

He’d shared some of his own stories in the romance trenches.
Couples who insisted he was wrong, that they would go their own way, despite
his scientific methodology. She listened as politely as he had.

Then, somewhere around his tenth cookie and fifth cup of
coffee, the conversation became more personal. The late hour opened them to confidences
he supposed.

“I know you have a wonderful relationship with your perfect
10 girlfriend, but I’m on my own. Always have been.”

“Surely you’ve had boyfriends? Admirers?”

“Oh,” she said, “I suppose. But nobody serious. Nobody to
marry. I assume you two are planning something like that?”

He didn’t answer, but she had made her own assumptions. Even
if he and the lovely mermaid witch weren’t night and day, his “relationship”
would keep them on their own sides of the table.

“Anyway, I’m glad for you. I see people every day who need
someone so desperately they will do anything to guarantee another’s presence in
their life. Sometimes someone who doesn’t want them. And when I say I won’t
cast a spell of coercion, that even if I would, it would backfire on them, they
get mad.” She sighed. “They’re so lonely. They don’t know what else to do.”

He’d lingered, unwilling to abandon the cozy kitchen table,
until Coral’s yawns made it clear she would fall asleep where she sat if he
didn’t leave. At the door they fidgeted again, and finally he pressed his lips
to her soft, warm cheek and dashed off into the darkness. A stolen kiss, like a
twelve year old in love. Then he’d gone home to lie wakeful far into the night.

Lonely…he was going to have to get used to that too. He
rolled onto his side and pulled the sheet over his shoulder. Through an opening
in the drapes, a gleam of city lights shone, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
Darn
caffeine.

Except it wasn’t the caffeine. The show behind his eyelids
was anything but jumpy. A slow slide show of images from the day: arriving at
the studio, getting lost and parking by that muscle car, meeting its owner.

It all came to that, didn’t it? Encountering a woman who
made his pulse race and his trousers tight. It was her beauty, yes, but more
than that. She was alive and caring. She reached places inside him that his
perfect 10 never had, unsettling him, making him question his beliefs, making
him laugh.

He tossed to the other side, crushing his pillow in his arms,
and tried to count sheep. The sheep turned into big, furry, black cats, hopping
over the fence. Kansas. What a name for a witch’s companion. Which led him back
to her face, imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Her lips parting to accept a
bit of truffle, a delicate bite of pastry, her pink tongue swiping a bit of
whipped cream from her full lower…
enough!

He flung the pillow across the room and abandoned his
twisted bedding. Gage strode to the sliding doors and yanked the curtains
aside. He stalked out onto his terrace and leaned on the railing. Below, a few
cars moved, looking like toys from seventeen stories up. Why couldn’t he get
that ridiculous, sun-worshiping witch out of his mind? And weren’t witches
supposed to be creatures of the night? Not tanned, sun-whitened haired, glowing
goddesses?

She couldn’t even get that right. Where was her long, black
dress? Her pointed hat? Her pale, green complexion? Mermaid, siren…ocean fairy.
Shit!
And none of that even took in the soft curves of her figure. Were
her legs beneath the skirts she’d worn as long and lovely as he dreamed?

Desperate, he clutched the rail, squeezing until his fingers
ached. He’d just been dumped by a woman he was prepared to marry—had planned to
propose to. How could he be so focused on another?

The answer leapt into his mind. Rebound. Of course! He’d had
plenty of training to understand the stages of grief that came when a
relationship ended. There was the danger of trying to skip them and moving
straight to another partner, but how human it was to do that.

He dropped onto a chaise and searched his psyche. The first
stage…anger. He’d certainly felt that one. He’d wanted to punch that son of a
bitch who stood there with Geena, as if she needed backup. And whether she
understood it or not, the jerk planned to have her. Did he have her already?
The thought made him mad, but not as angry as he’d expect. Perhaps he was in
denial? He couldn’t have skipped the other stages and trotted right to
acceptance.

Exhausted, he wiped a hand over his face and reached to draw
the light blanket he kept on the back of the chair over his legs. His eyes
drooped. It would do no good to keep this up, so late at night, when no one’s
thoughts were clear. Tomorrow was soon enough to examine his ideas. And why the
hell he wasn’t more upset about Geena leaving him. They’d been perfect
together. His perfect 10.

He sighed, his mind too tired to fight his body’s need for
rest anymore. And his body too weary to bother to go back inside, he unfolded
the blanket to cover himself shoulders to feet and fell asleep, his mind
beginning again to replay images of his dinner companion. And something about
the Charger.

Coral woke early, despite the fact that Gage had stayed into
the wee hours. He’d been happy to discuss his work, but reticent about his
girlfriend. Perhaps the perfect 10 was displeased about their spending these
three evenings together. Coral would be happy to reassure her that she had no
designs on him. A stuffed shirt like him did not enter her sights. Of course
not.