Marking Time (36 page)

Her cell phone rang, and she saw it was Dr. Baker returning her call.

“Hi, Clare. I was just thinking about you the other day. How are you doing?”

“Much better. The time in Vermont has been just what I needed.”

“I’m glad to hear that. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’ve met someone. A man.”

“Really? Is it serious?”

“It is. He’s wonderful.”

“Are you ready for something serious?”

“I think so. I met the right guy.”

“I’m happy for you, Clare.”

“Thank you. It’s just that, well, I had the dream last night. I think it’s because I’ve been putting off telling Aidan, the man I’m seeing, about everything that happened.”

“Do you think he wouldn’t understand?”

“I think he’d understand better than most people. He’s been through some heavy stuff himself.”

“So then why the hesitation?”

“I don’t know. I was all set to tell him last night, but it wasn’t the right time. And then I had the dream, which has me afraid again. For the first time in months, I’m afraid.”

“Clare, the man who attacked you is in prison. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“Intellectually, I get that. But the dream, it was so real, like it was happening all over again.”

“Maybe the dream is telling you it’s time to level with Aidan so you can stop thinking about it once and for all.”

“I start to tell him, and nothing comes out. I freeze.”

“When the time is right, you’ll know, but do it sooner rather than later. Your subconscious is telling you something in the form of the dream. You need to listen to it. Will you be coming back to Rhode Island soon?”

“Probably in the next month or so.” She didn’t like to think about what that would mean for her and Aidan.

“Come see me, okay?”

“I will.”

“Give yourself permission to be happy, Clare. You’ve certainly earned it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Aidan looked for something to smash. Surely if he could break something it would relieve some of the impotent rage he’d felt since Clare’s nightmare. He let her believe he’d gone back to sleep, but he was awake next to her for hours. He knew she’d dreamed about the rape, and the fact that he couldn’t talk to her about it had him searching for something to throw against a wall.

He was running out of patience. She needed to trust him with the truth soon. Otherwise, he couldn’t see how they could have the future he wanted so desperately with her.

Clare spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for her date. She took a long bath in the Jacuzzi, spent extra time on her makeup, and giggled to herself when she imagined Aidan discovering the scandalous black underwear she’d bought earlier in the day. She rolled on sheer thigh-high black hose before she slipped into the skimpy black dress he’d requested.

When she checked the complete ensemble in the full-length mirror, she was pleased with what she saw. “Not bad for an old girl,” she said, spinning on one of her three-inch heels.

On the way downstairs to wait for him, she was surprised by a flutter of nerves. This definitely felt like a first date, even though they’d been together for weeks. He came in a short time later and ran for the shower, calling out that he’d be quick.

While she waited, she walked over to the window. Aidan’s house was built on one of the hills that formed the base of Mount Mansfield. The rising moon cast a silvery glow upon the village of Stowe below. She must have been daydreaming, because he was back before she knew it.

“Hey,” he said from behind her. “Are you ready?”

She turned to him, and all the blood rushed from her head when she saw him in a dark suit over a light blue shirt and tie. “Oh, boy, look at you.” She closed the distance between them, and slid her hands inside his suit coat.

“Look at
you
. I love your hair.” He kissed her, and the fire between them ignited.

After several minutes spent wondering why they were bothering to go anywhere in the first place, Clare came up for air. “We’d better go before we forget we’re going somewhere.”

“I’ve already forgotten.”

“You’re not getting out of this, O’Malley.”

He groaned. “You’ve got me all worked up.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re ever
not
worked up.”

“Not when you’re around,” he whispered in her ear.

She pulled away from him. “I’m putting my foot down. This time you’re buying me dinner first.”

He laughed. “All right, if you’re going to be that way about it. Let’s go.”

“Where’re we going?”

He held her coat for her. “You’ll have to wait and see. Let’s take your car. The truck is dirty.”

Clare handed him the keys, and he opened the car door for her. She liked how he did that even when they weren’t on an official date.

He drove them to the base of the mountain, where the parking lot was full of cars belonging to nighttime skiers.

She glanced at him with a quizzical expression.

He took her hand to lead her inside. “Don’t give me that look.”

“I’ve never skied in heels before.”

“There’s that smart mouth again.”

They walked up the stairs to the gondola station.

“Evening, Mr. O’Malley.”

“Hi, John. Thanks for staying late.”

John opened the door to a large gondola for them. “No problem.”

Aidan helped her into the heated car and sat close to her as John sent them on their way. The moment they left the station, Aidan pulled her close enough to kiss.

“Where are we going?”

“Up,” he said, running a hand up her leg. He sucked in a sharp breath when he encountered the lacy top of hose that ended abruptly at mid-thigh. “Oh, Jesus, I’ll be thinking about that all night.”

Clare giggled. “Have some self-control, will you?”

“I have none. Zero. Zippo.”

“Look at the view.” Clare directed his face to the skiers on the well-lit trails below.

Aidan returned his attention to her neck. “I’ve seen it before.”

The gondola moved slowly up the mountain and delivered them to the top after a brief ride through the darkness. The operator at the top of the mountain also knew Aidan. They walked across the wood deck into a restaurant, where again he was greeted like an old friend.

“How do you know all these people?”

“I renovated the home of the owner, and we got to be friends.”

They walked into the quiet dining room. “Where is everyone?”

He gestured to a sign that read “Closed for Private Party.”

Clare gaped at him. “You reserved the
whole place
?”

He leaned down to kiss her. “I didn’t want to share you with anyone.”

A tuxedoed maître d’ came out to meet them. “Good evening, Mr. O’Malley. Right this way.” He seated them at a candlelit table for two next to a window overlooking the mountain. “Your waiter will be right with you.”

“I cannot
believe
you did this.”

Aidan moved his chair closer to hers. “Since you were only expecting pizza and beer, the bar was set awfully low.”

“You continue to surprise me, O’Malley.”

“My goal in life.” He grinned as their waiter poured champagne and left the bottle in an ice bucket next to the table.

Aidan lifted his glass and looked into her eyes. “Here’s to you and me and the last first date of our lives.”

Clare touched her glass to his. The implication of his toast hung in the air between them as they were served an elaborate meal that Aidan admitted wasn’t on the restaurant’s regular menu.

“You must’ve done a hell of a job on his house,” Clare said as she finished her filet mignon.

He gave her his now-familiar offended look. “Of course I did. You can ask him yourself. Here he comes.”

Aidan introduced her to Michael Donnolly, the restaurant’s owner and head chef. Clare could tell by the banter between the two men that they were good friends. Michael confirmed that Aidan had, in fact, done a spectacular job on his house.

“See, I told you,” Aidan said to Clare.

“Was everything all right with your dinner?” Michael asked.

“It was excellent, thanks, Mike,” Aidan said.

“Nice to meet you, Clare,” Michael said and left them alone.

They were served a sinful chocolate dessert, and Clare fed Aidan the first bite.

“I need to check something,” he said with a serious expression.

“What?”

Under the table, he ran a hand up to where lace met leg. “Yep, still there,” he said with a deep sigh of frustration.

She pushed his hand away. “You’re like a twelve-year-old boy. When are you going to be forty anyway?”

“Two weeks.” He put his hand back on her leg and nuzzled her neck.

Laughing at his antics, Clare tilted her head to give him better access to what he wanted. “Maybe you’ll act more like a grown-up then.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Can we go home now? Please?”

“I’m not ready for our first date to be over, especially since you went to all this trouble.”

“Our first date is
not
over, don’t worry.”

“There’s more?”

“Haven’t you learned not to underestimate me?”

“Apparently not,” Clare said, dying to know what else he had up his sleeve.

On the gondola ride down the mountain, Aidan made good use of the time alone to further explore the silk and lace that had preoccupied him all evening. By the time they reached the bottom of the mountain, Clare was breathless with wanting him.

“I’ll bet you have other surprises for me under there, don’t you?” he asked, pretending to peek under her skirt.

She slapped his hand away. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Oh, that mouth of yours. It’s going to get you in so much trouble one of these days.”

“I can’t wait.”

He gave her a look that was full of promises and helped her off the gondola. They walked downstairs to the parking lot, where a horse-drawn sleigh awaited them.

“Your chariot, madame,” he said with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

Speechless, Clare stared at the sleigh and then at Aidan.

He took her hand to help her into the sleigh and bundled heavy blankets around them before he signaled to the driver they were ready to go.

“I’ll never underestimate you again,” Clare said softly.

He put his arm around her. “You’ll ruin all my fun.”

She kissed him and rested her head on his shoulder. “This is the best first date I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad,” he whispered. “Are you warm enough?”

She nodded and looked up at the dazzling array of stars in the moonlit sky. The horse’s hooves beat in time with the bells around its neck as the sleigh glided over the snow, and Clare knew if she lived to be a hundred years old, she would never forget this.

The sleigh delivered them to Aidan’s house, and Clare was surprised to see her car already there.

“How did my car get here?”

“My buddy John, the gondola operator, did me a favor.”

“Did you think of everything?” Clare asked with amazement as he held the door and followed her into the house.

He took her coat and went to hang it up. When he returned to her, he had shed his suit coat.

Clare put her arms around him and snuggled into his chest. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry it took me so long to buy you dinner.”

Clare laughed. “It was well worth the wait. I love you, Aidan O’Malley.”

“I love you, too.”

“Will you do something for me?”

“Name it.”

“Will you sing for me?”

Startled, he said, “How do you know I can?”

She smiled.

“My mother has a big freaking mouth,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“She has a bigger heart. So?”

He looked away, focusing on the wall. “I don’t know. It’s been a long time.”

She brought him back to her with a finger to his chin. “For me?”

He studied her for a long moment. “What do you want to hear?”

“Surprise me,” she said, tugging on his hand to lead him to sit next to her on the piano bench. When Clare lifted the cover, Aidan stared at the keys as if he was seeing them for the first time.

He finally lifted a hand and played a few notes of what Clare recognized as Chopin. Then he added his other hand, and tentatively played a familiar tune Clare couldn’t name until he added the words to “We’ve Got Tonight.”

He gave her a small smile as he played the music between verses and continued in a voice that sounded an awful lot like Bob Seger himself.

“Aidan,” Clare whispered after he played the final notes. “That was beautiful.”

His hands rested on his knees. “I love that song, but I’m all done searching. I hope you know that.”

“And you know my plans
do
include you.”

“I hope so,” he said, slipping his hand around her neck to draw her closer to him. He touched his lips to hers with none of the urgent need he’d shown her earlier. Instead, this kiss was full of tender restraint.

“Aidan.”

“Hmm?”

“I need to tell you something.”

He pulled back to look at her. “Now?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

B
uddy Longstreet returned Kate’s call the day after he returned from New York. He asked her to come see him at his Music Row office later that afternoon. This time, Music Row meant Music Row. Long Road Records was smack in the middle of the action, sitting between EMI and Sony on Music Square East. Kate took the elevator to the fifth floor and, per Buddy’s instructions, used the code word “flower” to be buzzed into his suite of offices.

A young woman wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and boots met Kate at the door and introduced herself as Buddy’s assistant Christina. She had the thick Tennessee accent that Kate had become so accustomed to she hardly noticed it anymore.

“Come on in, Kate.” She shook Kate’s hand. “Buddy’s expecting you.”

Two walls in the large corner office were all glass with a view of downtown Nashville. Buddy reclined in a leather chair as he talked on the phone. His signature black Stetson was firmly in place, and his black cowboy boots were perched on the desk. He gestured for Kate to have a seat.