Private Indiscretions (11 page)

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked, examining his face for clues to his mood.

“No.”

“Did you work?”

He shook his head.

“Postcoital conversation not your thing, huh?” she asked, trying to lighten the moment.

“A common complaint among women, I understand,” he said.

She wanted to keep things breezy between them, then found she couldn't. “Are you regretting that we made love?”

He hesitated a few seconds. “Only as it affects the way we work together.”

“How will it affect that?”

“It just will.”

“I won't let it,” she said, sure of it.

“You won't be able to help it,” he answered with certainty.

“You seem to be speaking from experience.”

“No.” He framed her face with his hands and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss that made her eyes sting and her throat ache, then he rested his hands on her shoulders. “I just know how these things work.”

She wrapped her hands around his wrists. The sheet drifted to her waist. “Is it because you did all the giving
and I only took? You didn't give me any opportunity to return any favors, you know, especially yesterday. I'd hoped to make up for that.”

“Dana.” He covered her breasts with his hands. “You are a strong, sexy woman. I didn't feel the least bit slighted. It just…complicates things.”

“Meaning, you're going to keep your distance? This amazing, incredible, satisfying experience won't be repeated?”

From outdoors the crunch of gravel under tires drew their attention. Someone was pulling in to the driveway.

Sam went to the window as Dana scrambled out of bed and began hunting down her clothes. “Silver Taurus,” he said.

“I don't know who that could belong to.” She put on her thong inside out and didn't care. Her bra was twisted into knots.

“Toss it to me,” he said.

She did, then grabbed her stockings. By the time she'd put them on, he'd untangled her bra.

“Who is it?” she asked, breathless, as she shimmied her skirt over her hips and grabbed her jacket.

“Haven't gotten out of the car. They're probably debating who's parked in the driveway in front of— Okay, doors are opening.” He paused. “Well, Senator, unless I miss my guess, I'd say it's your parents.”

A
n hour after sunset, Dana kissed her parents goodbye then climbed into Sam's car. She glanced at his profile as they backed out of the driveway. What a difference a day makes, she thought as they headed back to the city. Last night she'd ached to make love with him. Now she had. And now she saw him in a different light, one more intense, more curious. There were so many questions to ask.

Her mom and dad's spur-of-the-moment decision to fly from Florida for the funeral had interrupted the intimacy building between her and Sam, although Dana blessed the rain gods for the Dallas thunderstorms that had delayed her parents for hours. They'd arrived at the church just after Dana and Sam left, staying on with Rosa for several hours after, and planned to return to Florida to drive their motor home back. If not for the thunderstorm, however, Dana wouldn't have been alone with Sam.

If her parents were surprised to see him, they didn't show it. Perhaps Rosa had alerted them? Sam had gone down
stairs in time to greet them at the door while Dana brushed her hair and fixed her makeup, and summoned some degree of calm.

Again she looked at Sam, illuminated by the dashboard lights. He'd spoken little during dinner. Same for her father. Maybe it would've been hard to get any words in, anyway, given how much her mother talked, but still…

Sam had been too quiet. Then he'd become more so after her father offered to take him on a tour of the property after dinner. They'd been gone fifteen minutes, and Sam's expression was even more somber on his return. She'd wanted to hug him and say everything would be all right, but she had no idea why he seemed vulnerable.

Her heart ached but she didn't know why—

Yes, she did, she realized. She was falling in love with him, the thought spinning through her, gathering speed and heat.

“Why were you arrested?” he asked now, startling her.

She brushed at her skirt, striving for a casual look. “For possession of marijuana.”

“What?”

His shock made her smile. “For possession—”

“I heard you. I just don't believe you. It's impossible.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Where were you when I got hauled in?”

“I don't know. Where was I? Why didn't I know about it?”

“Because it was after graduation and you were long gone.”

“What happened?”

She let herself go back to that time and place. A night much like tonight. Summer. Warm. Only a few carefree weeks left before heading to college. She'd taken a job as a library aide during the day but the nights were hers. She and her friends were going to enjoy their last summer together before they headed in different directions, Willow to San Diego State, and Lilith and Dana to Cal. No college
for Candi. She was getting married. The wedding was a week away.

“The girls and I had taken Candi out on the town for her bachelorette party. We'd been to Sacramento, but since we weren't old enough to drink, we didn't find a lot to do. We came home early enough to stop in at a party that Marsha Crandall was throwing. Remember Marsha?”

“Original party girl.”

Dana nodded. “Her parents were out of town. I don't know what possessed me to go. Lilith talked me into it, I think, but Candi and Willow wanted to go, too. I figured Harley might be there and I wanted to avoid a confrontation with him.”

“Was he there?”

“Yes. Aside from sending menacing glances my way, he left me alone, though. I figured his talk with the police chief had straightened him out. Anyway, there were a couple of kegs of beer, but I didn't drink because I was driving.”

“The others did?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me guess. You got stopped on the way home by the police—even though you weren't speeding and hadn't broken any law. The officer stuck his head in the car, smelled beer, hauled you all out, made a search for open containers, but instead found some pot that Harley had planted in your car.”

“I assumed that, too, but Lilith started acting weird. I mean, all three of them were scared, because they'd been drinking and were underage, but Lilith was frantic. When the cop held up the plastic bag, she squeezed my hand so hard I thought she'd broken some bones.”

“It was hers?”

“Yes.”

“You didn't know she smoked pot?”

“I knew. I didn't know she carried it with her.”

“It's hard to believe. You listen to her talk show and she has zero tolerance for drugs.”

“People learn from their mistakes.”

He glanced at her. “You took the fall for her.”

She nodded.

“She let you?” He swore. “That's how your best friend—”

“Stop. There's more to it than that, Sam. You remember I skipped a grade? I'd turned seventeen in January. In fact, Lilith was the only one who was eighteen. So even though the driver of the car is legally responsible, because Lilith was the only adult, she would've been.”

“So? It was her pot.”

“Yes, it was, but it would've ruined her life. She'd gone beyond marijuana, had been experimenting with other things. It frightened me so much, but nothing I said stopped her. I also knew her, and I was sure this would scare her straight and turn her around. I was right, too. Not only did she never get into trouble after that, she's done great things.”

“How did you get her out of it?”

“I said I'd taken the pot away from someone at the party for their own good. The police didn't believe me, of course, and I refused to give them names. As far as they were concerned I was a typical teenager trying to dodge the blame. I got hauled into the station, took some drug and alcohol tests, which were negative, but they still made me go to rehab classes. It helps to have your father on the council that appoints the police chief. The chief handled the situation quietly. You know…I'd never gotten in trouble before. I was headed for college. And so on and so on. They just dealt with it privately.”

“Harley's father was on the council, too.”

“Which is why Harley got off with barely a slap on the wrist for attacking me. Anyway, they never officially charged me with anything—that was the deal we made which sent me to the classes. Even if I had been charged
and convicted, the records would've been expunged after seven years.”

“How did Harley know about your arrest?”

“His father's ties with the police chief, I suppose. Who knows. His reference to it today was the first he's made. But our paths hadn't crossed again until the reunion.”

“The only way this information could hurt you is by planting doubts about your character in the voters' minds.”

“Sometimes that's all it takes.”

“It's not clicking for me. Marijuana's not seen as such a big deal anymore. The same stigma isn't attached, for all that it's still illegal.” He gave her a quick look. “What did your parents do?”

“They were furious, of course, and disappointed in me. I stuck with the story I told the police, though, and I only got a lecture on thinking things through, on anticipating the consequences. Added to what had happened to you because of my ‘good intentions,' it was more than enough to turn me into a model citizen.”

“You can hardly call yourself a delinquent because you reported Harley's rape attempt and the fact you covered for a friend, Dana.”

“I know. But I grew up fast that summer. My mom never sees the dark side of anything, and she kept looking at me as if I were a stranger. She would pat my back and offer sage advice until I almost couldn't keep a straight face.” Dana wondered whether this would be the best time to ask about his mother, here in the car where he didn't have to make eye contact and the outside world barely intruded. “Was your mom like that?”

His silence was deafening, making her aware of the road again, the sharp curves and dark path ahead of them. She watched his hands as he steered into the next bend. His speed didn't pick up, but his knuckles turned white.

Damn. She squeezed her eyes shut, berating herself. What a stupid thing to say to him! His mother had died because of injuries from a car accident on this road.

“My mother gave me a lot of advice, yes,” he said at last.

Okay. Her fists unclenched. He would have changed the subject if he didn't want to talk about her. “Like what?”

“Life lessons. You know, how to behave in certain situations. What she expected of me.”

“Do you remember specific advice?”

He hesitated. “Only the day before she died, in the hospital. No one told me she wasn't expected to live, but I knew. She wouldn't let herself rest. She would close her eyes for a few minutes, worn out, then blurt out something else. Every word took a little more out of her, but even at ten I recognized her need to talk.”

Dana wished he would elaborate.

“He blamed me for her death,” he said, sudden and harsh.

“Your father?”

He nodded once.

A cold fist of horror twisted her stomach. “But I thought— Wasn't he the one driving?”

“Yeah.” The word came out like sandpaper. “We were going to the movies for my birthday. We'd never been as a family before—it was rare that we did something fun together. I was happy. He kept yelling at me to shut up. I could see his eyes in the rearview mirror, and they were mean, like always, but nothing could get me down. He told my mother to shut me up. She tried to explain that I was just happy. He backhanded her.

“I saw her head hit the passenger window. I heard how hard she connected.”

The change in his voice scared Dana. He wasn't with her anymore. He'd returned to the horrifying moment. She wrapped a hand around his arm. “Sam.”

Nothing.

“Sam, there's a pullout right after this turn. I want you to pull over there.”

“I'm okay.”

“I'm not. Pull over.”

He did. “You weren't in danger,” he said as he slowed to a stop then shoved the car into Park.

“Tell me the rest of what happened.”

Holding on to the steering wheel, he stared out the windshield. A long pause ensued, then, “I unfastened my seat belt to try to help her. I leaned over the seat. He knocked me alongside the head and lost control of the car at the same time. We spun off the road. A tree stopped us, caving in Mom's side of the car. She had so many injuries. Multiple broken bones, lacerated organs.”

Poor little boy. Such a heavy burden to carry for all his life. “Had he been drinking?”

“Not enough for a DUI, but he'd had a couple of beers. He always did. And he was always angry. He just got worse when he was drunk. I usually hid.”

“Did you believe him when he blamed you?”

He nodded.

“Oh, Sam.”

“He reinforced it every day… Every single day.”

Dana wanted to comfort him, but he wouldn't look at her. She knew he wouldn't want to be seen as vulnerable. That made her hurt more for him, that need to prevent his emotions from surfacing. Be a man. She wondered how many times his father had said that to him.

“It wasn't my fault,” Sam said, low and hoarse, as if he'd finally convinced himself.

“No. It wasn't your fault.”

The dome light came on suddenly as he opened the door and climbed out. Although the headlights were on, he didn't walk to the front of the car. She decided to follow.

He hadn't gone far, only about twenty feet. He was standing with his arms crossed, his head down, his body swaying. She didn't try to sneak up on him. Her shoes crunched rocks and twigs. She stopped in front of him.

“I hated that son of a bitch. I dreamed about killing
him,” he said. “Night after night. But I never hit him back, even when I got big enough to. He wasn't worth it.”

“You were so smart to see that, to understand what it would've done to your life.”

“Another deathbed lesson from Mom. And a promise, too.” He lifted his head then, letting her see into his heart. “I loved her.”

Dana's eyes filled with tears that slipped down her cheeks in scalding-hot rivers against the night air. “And she loved you, with all her heart.”

He seemed to retreat a little. “Don't cry for me, Dana.”

She cried harder, wishing she could take away some of the pain and guilt he'd carried with him for so long. He touched her then. First her hair, his hands moving over her lightly, shaking, stroking. “Shh, shh,” he said. “It's all right. It's all right.”

“It's not all right,” she fired back, the words scraping along her throat. “It's horrible. It's tragic. My God, Sam. I'm so proud of you for what you've done with your life, coming from that. I hope you're proud, too.” She ended on a choked breath. “You're amazing. Incredible…”

“Shh.” His hands moved to her face, brushing at tears, then her shoulders, barely touching, his fingers fluttering. She pressed herself against him, wrapped her arms around him, held on. He went still and stiff, not yielding to her offer of comfort. She couldn't stop crying.

She wasn't just falling in love, she already had. With a man destined to break her heart in a way no one had. She'd loved Randall, but nothing like this. He'd challenged her intellectually, had appreciated her professional capability. Theirs had been a partnership of the minds, tempered with friendship and a warm, gentle love.

But Sam… Sam challenged everything—her emotions, her vision of the future, her ideas of a relationship, her view of herself. It was crazy. They'd spent so little time together, yet she knew he was the love of her life. And he was hurting so much.

His arms finally came around her, but not too tightly; he brushed his lips against her hair. He seemed calm, controlled.

At peace.

She swiped at her tears and nestled closer, not willing to let him go. She loved him. The idea settled. Wouldn't that little detail surprise him.