LOST AND FOUND HUSBAND (2 page)

“Really? Are you going to go?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided.” That was better than admitting the truth.

Kaley didn’t ask who invited him. She probably thought it was one of his old artist friends. He wouldn’t have told her who it was, anyway, so he was glad that she hadn’t asked.

“You should see me, Dad. I’m wearing this cheesy pink gown.” She laughed. “And a tiara. The party tonight is dress-up.”

He smiled. She used to love wearing princess getups when she was a kid. “Take a picture and send it.”

“I will, as soon as I get my lipstick on.”

“Pink, I presume.”

“What else?” She made a silly kissing sound. “I love you, Daddy. Have fun at the gallery opening tomorrow.”

“I didn’t say I was going.”

“Well, you should. It’s just your sort of thing.”

He sidestepped her encouragement. “I love you, too, kissy Kaley. Be good.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

They said goodbye and as he ended the call, a big jolt of emptiness consumed his heart. But that didn’t stop him from dialing Dana to decline her offer.

“Hello?” She answered in an eager tone. Hoping, perhaps, that it was him on the other end?

“Hi. It’s Eric.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you called, especially now. I’ve been trying on clothes for our date, just in case you say yes. I want to look amazing and blow you away.”

Eric winced. She was too young and sweet for the likes of him. “I just talked to my daughter. She said that she was wearing a pink gown and a tiara to a Valentine-themed party. She’s supposed to send me a picture.”

“How fun. I’ll bet she’s going to have a great time. The gallery opening is Valentine art.”

“I’m not going to go, Dana.”

“Come on. Don’t bail on me. Please. I really want to have a nice evening with you.”

“I’m just not up for it.”

A smile sounded in her voice. “How about if I send you a picture of what I’m going to wear?”

In spite of himself, he laughed. “I’d rather be surprised.”

“Does that mean you’re going to go?”

Did it? He glanced at the photos on the fireplace mantel, particularly the one from his wedding. Corrine had been an incredibly beautiful bride with her traditional white dress and misty veil. They’d gotten married at the beach. She’d always loved the sand and the surf. He did, too.

“You’re confusing me,” he said.

“Confusing you into having some fun?”

Just confusing him in general. “What gallery is it?”

“It’s a new one near the beach.”

He glanced at the portrait again. “Which beach?”

“Santa Monica.”

Eric’s stomach clenched. The same one where he’d said his vows. Was this a cosmic joke? “Dana—”

“Please.” She persisted again. “Just give me a chance. One date. One kiss afterward.”

A kiss? Now that was all he was going to be thinking about. He’d already been thinking about it at the diner, too. Could she tell? Did she know? Had he been that obvious? “You don’t play fair.”

“A little romance never hurt anyone.”

Romance had hurt him plenty. In the picture, he was standing barefoot on the shore in his tux, with his pant legs rolled up past his ankles, holding his new bride in his arms. He remembered scooping her up and making her squeal.

Dana said, “I really want to kiss you.”

He wanted to kiss her, too. He wanted to put his mouth against hers and forget how lonely he was. “This is dangerous.”

“It’s a date, Eric.”

“And a kiss,” he reminded her.

“Just one at the door,” she reminded him. She wasn’t offering a night of unbridled passion.

Nor was he expecting anything like that. But maybe it was time for him to get back into the casual dating pool. Besides, Dana was about as sweet as they came. He couldn’t ask for a nicer person to spend a few hours with. “Okay.” He held his breath. One date. One good-night kiss. Plus Valentine art in Santa Monica. He prayed he could handle it. “I’ll go out with you.”

Her voice beamed. “You won’t regret it. We’re going to have a wonderful time. I’m so excited. Here, let me give you my address.”

“I have to get a pen and paper.” He went into the kitchen, away from the photo.

“Ready?”

“Sure. Go ahead.” She rattled off her address and he wrote it down.

“It’s the house in the back,” she said. “You have to go through a side gate to get to it. But you’ll see it when you get there.”

“What time should I pick you up?”

“How about seven-thirty? The reception is from eight to ten.”

“Okay.” He was already nervous.

“My landlord will probably peer out her window to get a look at you.”

“Is she a nosy old lady?”

“No.” Dana laughed her lilting laugh. “She’s young and beautiful, and I told her all about how yummy you are.”

“Gee, thanks.” More nerves. More of everything. “Nothing like putting a guy on the spot.”

“You’ll do fine. By the way, did you mention me to your daughter when you spoke to her earlier?”

“I told her that someone invited me to a gallery opening, but I didn’t let on that it was a woman.”

“Much less a twenty-six-year-old? Would you have told her about me if I was your age?”

“Probably not. I’m not comfortable talking about my personal life to my child, even if she sometimes pesters me about it.”

“Pesters you how?”

“She wants me to start dating.”

“What a bright kid. What’s her name?”

“Kaley.”

“Really? Did you know that Kaley means ‘party animal’ in the Urban Dictionary? Kaley is the name to have these days. It depicts the coolest girl ever.”

“Then I guess we did her proud. Because she is the coolest girl ever.”

“You’re cool, too.”

He shook his head. “Are you kidding? I feel like I’m in high school all over again.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes. Because of you.”

“So I make you feel young? That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I was a dork in high school.”

She laughed. “Somehow I don’t see you as ever being a dork.”

“Believe me, I was.”

“I’m surprised you can remember back that far.”

He cracked a smile. “Smarty.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you, too.”

“I’m going to wow you with my outfit.”

He would probably be predictable, in jeans and a sports coat. “Bye, Dana.”

“Bye, handsome.”

They hung up, and he marveled at how easily she flirted. He’d never met anyone like her.

He checked his emails on his phone to see if his cool kid had sent the picture. She had, and the image was funny and cute, with his daughter making a duck face. Her sparkly pink gown was atrocious. The tiara was tacky, too. But that was the point, he supposed.

He thought about Dana, wondering just how she planned to wow him. Tomorrow night was going to be a long wait.

Especially with that kiss looming in his mind.

Chapter Two

E
ric drove to Dana’s place and parked at the curb. She lived in a cozy, tree-lined neighborhood. The bungalow house in front boasted 1930s appeal with a sloping roof, a stucco exterior and a stone walkway. He assumed that was where her landlord lived. He didn’t see anyone peering out from behind the lacy curtains, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t being watched.

He picked up her gift from the passenger’s seat and got out of the car. He’d stopped by the florist and gotten Dana an orchid because of her obvious love of flowers. But suddenly he’d realized he’d made a mistake. Not necessarily for Dana, but for himself. Corrine’s wedding bouquet had been made up of the same type of orchids.

How could he have overlooked that? Eric scowled. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe it was deliberate. As to why, he couldn’t be sure. But it didn’t sit well with him.

He headed for the side gate Dana had mentioned and opened the latch. Her yard was an explosion of greenery and festive blooms. Her tiny house sat amid the garden, which also contained a three-tiered fountain.

He knocked on her door. She answered and sent his libido into a tailspin.

She had the wow factor.

She’d donned a white dress with a bold red print. The slim-fitting garment hugged her in all the right places and was just low enough in front for him to see how bountiful her breasts were. Her shoes, a pair of flesh-colored heels, added about three inches to her height, elongating her already shapely legs. But what really enticed him was her hair. He’d never seen it loose, and tonight it tumbled around her shoulders in a mass of golden waves, making him itch to touch it.

Her makeup was stunning, as well, her eyes lined in a manner that reminded of him of an old-time movie star. Her lips were painted the same shade as the print on the dress, which he now realized were red dahlias. Instead of wearing a flower in her hair, she was wearing them on her dress.

“You look incredible,” he said.

“Thank you.” She spun around and showed him every curve. “I primped for hours.”

“It paid off.”

“Is that for me?” she asked.

The accidental orchid. “Yes.” He handed it to her.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” She hugged it to her chest, much too close to her heart. “Come in, Eric.”

As he entered her home, she put the potted plant on the windowsill, where a host of herbs created a fragrant mixture. Everything in her young vibrant world was tuned to the senses. A mosaic-topped café dining table was paired with mismatched chairs, and a mint-green loveseat that served as her sofa was bursting with tassel-trimmed pillows. A wooden coat rack held a collection of fringed shawls, and glass lamps were draped with feminine scarves.

“You have flair,” he said. “This is like an antique gypsy cart.”
Gypsy included,
he thought.

“Oh, thank you. I always thought it would be exciting to be an artist, but I don’t have any talent in that regard. So I try to make up for it by keeping artistic things around me.”

Did she keep artistic men around her, too? Was that part of her attraction to him? By most creative standards, Eric was on the conservative side. But he still fit the bill, he supposed, with his art-teacher vibe.

“You could be an interior designer,” he told her.

“Really? Do you think so? That’s something to consider. I’m torn about what to be when I grow up.” She flashed her twentysomething smile. “If I ever do grow up.”

“Being grown-up is overrated.” Nonetheless, he was as grownup as it got. “Are you ready to head out?”

“Sure. Just let me get my wrap.” She removed one of the shawls from the coat rack. They weren’t just for show.

Before they exited her yard, she led him to the fountain. “Isn’t he adorable? He’s one of the reasons I want to see the Valentine art show. I love angels, and cherubs are my favorite.”

He studied the statue in question. “People often mix cherubs up with putti. Unless you know the origins of the art, sometimes it can be difficult to tell.”

She made a face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Putti is plural for putto. They’re childlike male figures, predominantly nude, and sometimes with wings.”

“So what’s the difference?”

“Cherubs appear in a religious context and are angels, whereas the genesis of putti is mythical or secular, like Cupid.”

“So what is Tinkle?”

“Tinkle?”

She gestured to the fountain, and he smiled. She’d named the little guy after his antics. “I’d say he’s a putto. They’re prone to naughty deeds.”

Dana laughed. “And here all this time I thought he was a misbehaving angel.”

Eric laughed, too. “I’m sure we’ll see plenty of cherubs at the gallery. And putti, too.”

“It will be fun trying to tell the difference. We can make a guessing game out of it.”

They walked to his car, and he opened the passenger side and watched her slide onto the seat. She was fluid and graceful, and he was still hoping that he could handle their date.

He got behind the wheel, and she gave him the address of the gallery. He typed it into the navigation system and drove into the night.

They barely spoke on the way. Mostly they listened to the female computer voice giving directions.

Finally Dana said, “I don’t have one of those. I just take the chance of getting lost. Besides, sometimes you end up in interesting places when you go the wrong way.”

“Do you have a bad sense of direction?”

“The worst.” She grinned like an imp. “That part of my brain never developed, I guess. But we all have something not quite right about us.”

His “not quite right” was his attraction to her. She didn’t make sense in his organized world. She was too young, too free, too far from his norm.

They arrived at their destination, and he drove around to find a parking space.

“I love this area,” Dana said.

Eric kept quiet. He used to love it, too. The oceanfront hotel that hosted his wedding was nearby.

He nabbed a parking spot, and they walked a block or so to the gallery.

They entered the reception area, where food and drink were being served. But they didn’t make a beeline for the buffet. To do so would have been tacky and insulting to the artist, or, in this case, the group of artists being showcased. Eric did opt for the bar, though. He needed a drink. Dana accepted a glass of wine, as well.

Together, they wandered around. The Valentine theme played out in different ways. Some pieces were warm and whimsical, others deep and epic. One spicy collection presented a sensual tone, whereas another was tragic.

The tragic art impacted Eric the most. Love found, love lost. He was morosely drawn to it.

Dana stood beside him as they gazed at a painting of a man reaching toward the sky, where a woman was fading away from him. The emotion it evoked hit him square in the gut.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked her.

“No, but I hope to fall madly in love someday. It must be an incredible feeling.”

“It is.”

As he continued to study the piece, she studied him. He could feel her blue eyes burning into his soul.

“I’m sorry if this is difficult for you,” she said softly.

He denied his pain. “I’m fine.” He turned away from the painting. “Do you want to sample the buffet now?”

“Sure. That sounds good. But afterward, I’d like to go through the other parts of the exhibit again.”

The other parts. The non-tragic works. “And play a cherub/putto guessing game?” They hadn’t done that yet. There had been too much to look at, too much to take in, especially with Eric spending so much time on the sad images.

“Yes, I want to see the cherubs and putti again, but I want to take a closer look at the sexy artwork, too.” She flashed her scarlet-lipstick smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see that sort of thing included in the show.”

Her mouth looked downright lush. To keep his brain from fogging, he tried to say something intelligent. “Sex is an important aspect of love.”

“And sometimes sex is just sex. That’s the only kind I’ve known. Not that I’m an authority on the subject or anything. I’ve only had a couple of boyfriends. Men I liked, but didn’t love, obviously.”

“I used to have uncommitted sex before I met Corrine. I barely remember those affairs now. But it was ages ago.”

“Time slips by.”

“Yes, it does.”

He led Dana to the buffet, and they put appetizers on their plate. He tried not to watch her eat. But it was impossible not to be fascinated by her mouth. The kiss they’d promised to exchange was still imbedded in his mind.

She nibbled on an array of fruit. As his attraction to her heightened, he said, “You could be an artist’s muse, looking the way you look tonight.”

“Thank you. I think it’s the nicest compliment a man has ever paid me.”

“Young and nubile, as they used to say.”

“You better stop talking like that or you’re going to turn me into a seductress.”

She was already a seductress, tempting him with her beauty and flair. He swigged his drink, doing his damnedest to cool off. They finished their food and wandered the gallery once more. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing the sensual art again, not with the way she was affecting him.

The cherubs and putti were first, and he forced himself to play their game, comparing two illustrations that hung side by side. “So, which is which?”

“That’s a cherub,” she replied, about a heavenly-looking little guy. “And those are putti,” she added, referring to the other drawing, where mischief ran amuck.

“How about that one?” He gestured to a painting that wasn’t as easy to define.

She gazed at it for a while. “I don’t have a clue.”

“Truthfully, I don’t, either. Sometimes it’s tough to know what the artist is trying to convey.”

They moved onto the sensual art, where lust reigned supreme.

Dana approached an alluring picture. “Look how beautiful it is.”

Eric
was
looking. He wished he wasn’t, though. The image was a photograph of a bewitching redhead reclining on a satin-draped bed with her hair coiled around the pillow and shaped into a heart. A tall, leanly muscled man tossed red dahlias onto the bed, only he was in shadow, his presence adding an air of mystery.

“I think she’s dreaming about him,” Dana said. “And that he’s not really there.”

Eric could see why Dana was attracted to this piece, especially with the inclusion of the dahlias. It made him want to kiss her, here and now, but it was neither the time nor the place, not when they’d agreed on a good-night kiss at her door.

He said, “The flowers are the same as what’s on your dress.”

“I noticed that, too. I can imagine being her, lying in bed, thinking about my lover. If I had a lover,” she amended.

To keep from envisioning her in the same pose as the model, he asked, “Why do you wear flowers in your hair at work?”

“They make me feel happy, bright and pretty. I always wear them at my right ear because I read somewhere that it means a woman is available. Once I switch to my left ear, it will mean I’m taken.”

“Remember the rose you gave me on the day I told you that I was a widower?”

She nodded.

“I took it to Corrine’s grave. I try to bring her flowers when I can. It’s weird, though, because I’ve probably given her more flowers in death than I gave her in life.”

“I’ve never been to a funeral or a cemetery or anything like that. No one close to me has ever died.”

He’d seen more than his share of death. “You’re lucky.”

“I’m lucky to be on this date, too. And I love that you brought me an orchid.”

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I think it’s only fair to say it. Corrine’s bridal bouquet had orchids in it. But I’m not sure if I chose it for that reason or it was subconscious.”

“You said yesterday on the phone that I was confusing you. I guess that holds true for tonight, too.”

“So it seems.”

She smiled her usual smile. “I still love that you gave me the orchid.”

“You don’t care that I’m confused?”

“I just want you to be enjoying yourself.”

Strangely enough, he was. “When we leave here, do you want to go for a walk on the pier?” Confusion aside, he wasn’t ready for the evening to end.

* * *

Dana breathed in the sea air. Although a few of the restaurants remained open, most of the shops were closed. The connecting amusement park was shut down for the night, too, keeping winter hours.

“Did you know that this pier opened in 1909?” Eric asked.

“I knew it had been here awhile, but I didn’t know the exact era. How different it must have been back then.”

“I’ve seen old pictures of it with the men wearing suits and the women in long dresses. People used to fish here, too. Of course, they still do.”

She nodded. She’d noticed people fishing on previous visits.

He said, “On a clear day, you can see Catalina Island. I used to spend a lot of time here as a kid.” His hair blew across his forehead. “I even got married near here. The ceremony was on the beach.”

“That sounds beautiful.” She watched the nighttime waves crash onto the shore, the wind whipping across the water. She didn’t mind that he talked about his wife. She was actually touched by how easily he confided in her about Corrine. “How old were you?”

“Twenty. We got married while we were in college.”

She tried to picture him at that age and decided that he probably looked pretty much the same. Some people didn’t change dramatically. Dana’s mother had, but Mom had lived a tough life.

He said, “After we graduated, we pursued similar career paths. Me as a teacher and her as a youth counselor.”

“You had a lot in common.”

“Right from the start.”

The breeze blew a little harder, fluttering the fringe on her shawl.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“I think the air feels good.” Being in his presence made her warm. She was wildly attracted to him: his tall, dark appearance, his cautious mannerisms. She especially liked the way he looked at her when he wasn’t aware that she was stealing glances at him. She could only imagine how he used to look at his wife. She’d never known anyone who’d seemed to be that much in love. Eric was so deep and intense, so different from Dana. She’d seen how strongly the tragic artwork at the gallery had affected him. It was odd, too, how this date was playing out, with them ending up at the same beach as where he’d gotten married.