Sealed With a Kiss (16 page)

Desperate now, she whimpered. “Hold me. Please hold me.” But he didn’t touch her until her knees buckled. Then he held her with his left arm, took her key, and opened the door.

“Good night, Naomi.”

She barely noticed his short, rapid intake of breath and the look of longing in his eyes, but focused on what she felt. What she needed. “Good…
what?
”

It registered that he was actually leaving her. “I hate you, Rufus. I do. I hate you, and I’m never going anywhere else with you.
Never.
” She hissed it at him, trembling with frustration.

She calmed herself, allowed her good sense to surface, and with reason restored, no longer felt rejected. If he had crossed that threshold, she’d have had some confessing to do, come morning. And she wouldn’t have known where to start and certainly not how to end it. She didn’t know the end. She did know that Rufus had proved his point incontestably. She not only wanted him; she needed him.

“I know how you feel,” he muttered, as he walked away, equally frustrated, but determined to leave her. Gently, and at considerable expense to his shattered emotions, he had pushed her inside her door and left. If the day ever came when she could look him in the eye and say she wanted him and would have no regrets, he’d stay. Not before.

Chapter 8

R
ufus received the Reverend Judd Logan’s seven-thirty a.m. phone call with astonishment. He had written exactly one paragraph of the thoughts he’d collected and didn’t want to be disturbed. But Judd didn’t so much invite as command him to his home in Alexandria for breakfast that morning, not even hinting at what had prompted the invitation. Curious, Rufus agreed to go, but mainly because he figured he might learn something about the mystery that he sensed surrounding Naomi. He took his boys to Jewel’s house and left them with her husband, a dentist. Jeff’s afternoon office hours enabled him to keep the children while Jewel taught, and she relieved him at three o’clock.

Judd’s cook, who seemed nearly as old as his employer, led Rufus to the study. Something out of an old movie, he thought, only grudgingly amused, as he looked around at the antique furniture, heavy velvet drapes, and ecru lace curtains. His working day was shot, his deadline was now almost unattainable, and his boys were off their schedule. Judd Logan stood, his stature belying his great age.

“I see you made it. Just have a seat; breakfast will be served in here in a minute.” Rufus remembered Naomi having said that Judd seldom bothered to thank anybody for anything, certainly not for obeying one of his unreasonable commands. So he remained standing, raised an eyebrow, and left the expression of incredulity on his face so long that the old man took a hint and said, “I’m glad to meet you.”

The breakfast was consumed and the crafty old man still had spoken only of the weather and of similarly mundane things. Rufus tired quickly and demanded, “What may I do for you, sir? I’m sure you know that Chevy Chase isn’t just across the street from you. I’m a busy man.”

Judd gazed at Rufus intently, obviously appraising him. “So you’re Cat Meade.”

“I used to be. Yes.”

“Well, who are you now?” The old man’s sharp eyes bored into Rufus, sizing him up. Rufus was accustomed to power plays; he had learned to be a master at them when he negotiated his football contracts, and bluffing was fifty percent of it. He didn’t take up the challenge.

“I gave that up five years ago. I never intended to make football my life’s work; I’m a journalist and a published author. What exactly do you want with me?” He wanted to be respectful to Naomi’s grandfather, but the man rankled him, and what’s more, didn’t seem to mind that he did.

“What are your intentions with regard to my granddaughter?” Rufus sucked in his breath and stared wide-eyed at his host. Was this man serious? It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Judd Logan that he’d had a driver’s license for nearly twenty years and didn’t take kindly to having his behavior questioned. Then he laughed.

“You couldn’t be serious! I thought Naomi might be stretching the truth with some of the things she told me about you. You’re way off, Reverend Logan; your granddaughter and I are not on the best of terms. In fact, we’re barely speaking now.” He didn’t add that he’d merely assumed it from Naomi’s mood when they’d parted the night before.

Judd appeared irritated. “Are you telling me that you dance like that with a woman you’re hardly speaking to? In my days, no decent woman would have permitted you to dance with her that way, and no gentleman would have attempted it.”

Rufus sighed. “Maybe that’s because cold showers hadn’t been invented,” he muttered under his breath.

Judd’s hearing proved to be fine. “What? I’m serious here. The whole of Washington and every town near it saw that show you two put on,” he stormed.

“What do you mean?”

“My God, boy, didn’t you know the television stations had their cameras there? African Americans of our status have to set a good example. Everybody expects more from us.”

Rufus wasn’t impressed with that reasoning; he leaned forward. “Of course, I didn’t know that our dance was being televised.” Though if he had, it wouldn’t have made one iota of difference once he had her in his arms. “There’s no point in being upset about this, Reverend; I haven’t compromised her, and I won’t. As for that dance, Naomi already gave me the devil about it.”

The old man peered at him. “You can’t make me believe you’re not interested in each other. You’re the one man I’ve met who could turn her head. And if she doesn’t turn yours after what I saw last night, I want to know what you’re made of.”

Rufus sat back in the generously overstuffed chair, getting more comfortable, and gave the man one of his intentionally indecipherable grins. “I came here out of respect, but this is really none of your business, sir.” He stood.

Judd looked up at Rufus and released a long, tired breath. “I’m living on borrowed time, son. I’ll be ninety-five in a few weeks, and I’m all she has. I’d hate to have to leave her all alone. She’s so fragile.” He’d spoken almost as if to himself. “I hope I haven’t caused any hard feelings.” He stood tall and straight, for all his ninety-four years.

“None whatever, sir.”

“Well, at least I got to meet one of my favorite football players. It was good of you to come.”

“It was my pleasure.” Rufus stepped toward the foyer and turned, surprised, when the old man’s thin fingers grasped his arm.

“I don’t care what you said. My Naomi wants you. It’s been more than fourteen years since she let herself get as close to a man as she was to you last night. And I know that for a fact.”

Rufus opened his mouth to speak and closed it, at a loss for words, not certain that he wanted that information and positive that within its core lay the key to her character.

“I know she acts tough, son. She learned a long time ago to harden herself to life; she had to. But that toughness is just a front; deep down, she’s very fragile. My Naomi spends a lot of time hurting. You’re strong, just what she needs. Well, goodbye.” They parted with a friendly handshake.

Rufus drove toward Washington, pondering Judd Logan’s revealing words. He had known almost from their first meeting that Naomi’s flippancy was a shield, and he had begun to realize that her insistence that marriage was not for her was nothing more than pretense, her solution to a problem that she had found no other way to handle. He suspected the real Naomi was the woman who cared that a young slum girl needed a role model, who responded to him without ego or inhibition, who gave herself to him totally in every kiss or caress. The real Naomi, he surmised, was the woman in whom his sons had immediately sensed warmth and tenderness; they had been drawn to it. That kind of woman needed a nest and knew it.

He stopped downtown at Garfinkel’s to buy long-sleeved T-shirts for Preston and Sheldon. They outgrew their clothes so rapidly that he bought them a size larger than they needed. As he left the store, a thought occurred to him, as he headed back toward the shoe department.

Tired, cold and discouraged, Naomi let herself into her studio, questioning the wisdom of what she’d decided to do. She pulled off the wig and threw it in her desk drawer, stored the contact lenses, and sat down at her drawing table. She had wasted an hour sitting in a cold, rented car, and no one had entered or left that house. But she was doggoned if she would let it get her down. She took out her sketchpad, closed her eyes, and tried to imagine how the design should look. She’d finished the ad campaign for the ice-cream company, but the parent firm had engaged her to design new paper milk cartons. No, she thought, green wouldn’t work for milk.

She reached for the phone after its first ring. “Logan Logos and Labels. May I help you?”

“Hi. So you’re finally there. Most people are in their office between three and four, Naomi. Do you always take a late lunch?”

She had completely forgotten lunch. “I work when I’m getting results, Rufus.” It wasn’t a lie, and her whereabouts were not his affair. She told him, “As a writer, I’m sure you’ve had experience with that. Did you call to apologize?”

If Rufus hadn’t remembered his conversation with Judd, he might have interpreted her words as a mild reprimand or even rudeness. He did neither, but inquired, “Should I?” He couldn’t believe she was still annoyed because he’d given her that blistering kiss and left her without explanation. Surely she understood why he’d had to get away from her and fast.

“Why did you call?” She hoped her voice didn’t reflect her wariness. She wanted to see him, to be with him, but while she’d waited in front of her son’s home, she’d decided to put Rufus out of her complicated life once and for all. She was going to focus on finding a way to know her son and his adoptive parents and managing it without her grandfather’s interference.

Her brusqueness apparently didn’t discourage him. “I called because you’re the only woman I’m kissing these days, and my energy is low. Thought I’d get a little sugar.”

Naomi laughed. Drat him; he knew how to get next to her. “Well, here goes a kiss right through the wire. Now, hang up, and let me work.”

He didn’t let her off. “You complain about Judd, but you’re certainly his granddaughter.”

“
Whatever
do you mean? Of course, I’m his granddaughter. My father was his only son.”

“I mean you’ve either inherited or copied his bluntness and directness, and I have to tell you, it looks better on him than it does on you.”

“How do you know so much about him?” She felt the skin crawl on the back of her neck. What had the old man been up to now?

“He wrecked my day with a summons out to Alexandria this morning to explain my intentions toward you.”

Naomi let out a mild shriek. “He
what?
Oh, my goodness. He must have seen us on television last night. I saw the cameramen, but then I forgot about them. This is none of his business.”

Rufus chuckled softly. “I told him precisely that, but I could have saved my breath.”

“You told him it was none of his business?” she asked, in frank admiration. “I wish I’d been there.”

“He took it like a man, sweetheart,” he told her, and she sensed his sincerity in the endearment. “I liked him. I liked him a lot. I want to see you, Naomi, but I don’t want to leave my boys with a sitter again tonight. Could you come over about six and have supper with us? I don’t like to feed my boys too late. I’ll take them and get some fried chicken and other stuff, maybe some rice and gravy from one of the takeouts just off Connecticut Avenue. Would you like anything special?”

He’d just assumed that she’d accept, and she was tempted to refuse him, to stick to her resolve not to see him again. But she had missed Preston and Sheldon, and the thought of being with them even for a little while raised her spirits from where they’d dropped while she’d sat in that cold car, watching a house in Silver Spring.

“I guess not, but I could bring something, too. See you at six.” She hung up, stared at the phone, and thought of the reasons why she should call him back and tell him that she had changed her mind. But she knew she wouldn’t do it; an hour and a half was already too long to wait. Her heartbeat accelerated at the thought that she would soon be with him.

“What’s in the bag, Noomie?” Preston asked her, pulling at her shopping bag. Rufus watched his sons greet Naomi, dancing happily and plastering wet kisses all over her face, and his anxiety about his relationship with her increased with each passing second.

He and Naomi set the table, put the food, including what she’d brought, in serving dishes, and placed it on the table. Her reaction to his heated look showed her pleasure at his obvious approval.

“You actually cooked greens and baked sweet potatoes? Do you know how crazy I am about collards and sweet potatoes with fried chicken? Did Jewel tell you?”

Her shy smile told him that his comment pleased her. “I’ve never spoken with Jewel. I just thought it would be nice to have it.”

Four little fawnlike eyes gazed up at them. Rufus looked down at his children and had a ridiculous urge to search them. There were times when they seemed to have special knowledge enabling them to sense any change in his emotions. He dismissed the thought, glanced back at Naomi, and caught her struggling to replace with nonchalance the passion he’d glimpsed in her. He flicked an index finger beneath her chin.

“I want to kiss you, and I’m going to.”

“But the children…”

“They already got theirs,” he said, heedless of his previous concern. “Now, I want mine.” He touched her lips with his own in a brief, sweet kiss, intending to make it chaste. And he would have if he hadn’t sensed in her response a need as strong and compelling as his own. What had come over her? He stared at her in amazement. She had moved away when he’d attempted to deepen the kiss, the first time she’d broken his kiss. He looked down at his boys; she’d shown concern for them in a situation where she’d never shown any for herself. Had he been completely wrong about her? He sat down at the table, said grace, and began to eat, but his mind was not on the food.

Naomi watched Preston and Sheldon indulgently as they devoured the greens, sweet potatoes, and fried chicken. Sheldon indicated that he’d like to have it again. “That was good, Noomie. You coming back tomorrow?”

She saw Rufus’s back stiffen. “No, Sheldon. But I’ll come see you some other time. All right?” She pulled an apple pie out of the other bag and earned the undying gratitude of all three Meade males.

The boys had been put to bed over their strong objections. “They’re usually more cooperative than they were tonight,” he told her, stretching his long legs out in front of him as the flames flickered in the great stone fireplace. “They know I get more work done when they cooperate, and they take pride in contributing to what I do. I show them how much I’ve written, but lately, Preston has taken it upon himself to criticize my progress.” Rufus smiled. “He doesn’t think much of five or six pages for half a day’s work. Thank God, Sheldon is kinder and fattens my ego every time Preston takes me down a peg.”