The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones (11 page)

He tilted his empty bottle. “I'm going to get another one,” he said to no one in particular.

He limped into the kitchen. The women were gathered around the center island. It was a long counter with a sink in the middle.

Christina—or was it Mary?—was peeling a carrot. “He works so late, leaving me with the kids all the time, then he gets mad when they don't want to do things with him. Why would they? They're teenagers and have their own lives. He only has himself to blame. I've tried to explain that to him, but he won't listen.”

“I worry about the same thing with Nelson,” Cindy said. He didn't think she'd noticed he'd come into the kitchen. “He only sees them every other weekend. He can't have a relationship with them that way. I've told him I wouldn't mind if he saw them more, but he can't be bothered.”

Sally shook her blond head. “Men. Do you know what I got for my birthday?”

There was a chorus of no's.

She looked up and grimaced. “A gift certificate for a year's worth of car washes.”

Cindy laughed. Beth groaned.

“I know,” Sally said. “It's pathetic. I told him I wanted a pair of gold hoop earrings. That's not too difficult. But it would have required him going to the mall on his own, and I'm sure he'd rather face a pack of rabid dogs.”

“Darren will shop,” Beth said. “I just wish he was more romantic. You know, flowers every now and then for no reason. Or maybe even call me up and say, `Don't bother cooking, honey, let's go out.'” She straightened and shrugged. “He's a sweetie, really. If I ask him to go out, he always says yes, but sometimes I wish he would offer.”

There was a murmur of assent.

Mike limped over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. Cindy saw him and walked over.

“How are you doing?” she asked quietly.

He moved toward the back door and she followed. “My leg aches, but otherwise I'm fine.” He glanced at the group of women in the kitchen, then out at the men gathered around the grill. “Is it always like this?” he asked.

She followed his gaze. “The separation of the sexes? I suppose so. I hadn't thought about it. I think we all like spending time with our friends. These women see their husbands every day.”

He supposed it made sense, but something felt off to him. The complaining, the being apart. “Do any of the people in these couples love each other?”

The question seemed to have surprised her. She tilted her head and smiled. “Of course, Mike. What would you think?”

That they didn't seem very happy to him. “I'm just observing the situation,” he said. “Checking out the local customs.”

“Check out the food,” she said. “It's nearly time to eat.”

She was right. The next few minutes were a bustle of activity, with salads and bread being set out on the tables and the men serving the meat.

Mike sat at the end of one of the picnic tables and used a stool to prop up his bad leg. He could feel the aching pain from the workout, not to mention the standing around he'd done earlier. He would pay for this activity tomorrow.

He was pleased when Cindy settled next to him. He didn't want to hear any more about Jack's lawn mower, or Roger's new assistant. But as Cindy asked him his preferences and scooped food onto his plate, he realized the dynamics of the group had changed. The men and women were no longer separate. They sat together, two by two.

Darren sat next to Beth. She was talking to Sally. Without glancing at her husband, she picked up a bottle of hot sauce and passed it to him. When he accepted the bottle, he bent forward and kissed her bare shoulder.

Roger sat on the end of a chaise longue with his wife's bare feet in his lap. In between bites, he massaged her toes and pressed her heels into his thigh. When she glanced at him, he murmured something Mike couldn't hear, and winked. His wife smiled and nodded.

They were all like that. Sitting together, exchanging private, unconscious touches, performing a ritual that somehow bonded them. They leaned against each other, brushed arms, kissed lightly, all the while talking with everyone around them.

He felt as if he'd come into a play during the second act and no one could explain the story. Deep in his chest, in a place he'd forgotten he had, he felt a twinge of regret. Perhaps at one time he could have learned the words and actions of this world, but it was too late now.

He looked over at Cindy. She was next to him, close, but they didn't touch. She didn't give him secret smiles or lean against him.

When the meal was over, the women cleared the table while the men sat around and discussed sports. Mike didn't have an opinion on the Houston Oilers. He'd never followed professional teams much. There wasn't any point in getting excited about a season when his work would force him to miss most of the games.

After a few minutes, Darren stood up and stretched. “All right, guys, are we all going to do it, or do you want to flip for it?”

Jack finished his beer. “We used paper plates. How much can there be? Let's just all do it.”

With that, the men trooped into the kitchen and began cleaning. Mike followed along. He grabbed a dish towel and dried the serving bowls as they were passed to him. Darren collected trash, Roger washed, Sam put the leftovers in the refrigerator, Jack wiped off countertops.

The higher-pitched conversation of the women caught his attention. He peered outside. All six had changed into bathing suits and were sitting on the edge of the pool or slipping into the Jacuzzi. His gaze settled on Cindy. She'd put on a one-piece dark green suit that matched her eyes. A headband held her hair off her face, but his attention didn't stray much above her shoulders.

The suit hugged her curves, outlining her full breasts and emphasizing the shape of her hips. He felt his mouth grow dry. None of the other men seemed to notice their wives. He wondered how long he would have to be with Cindy before he ceased to appreciate her body and the way she moved. He supposed she wasn't anything extraordinary, but she appealed to him on a fundamental level. As if he'd been waiting for her all his life.

Nelson was a fool, he thought, not for the first time. Yet, he couldn't help being pleased by the fact that she was single. Of course, he wasn't going to do anything stupid like try to get involved. It would be crazy for both of them. They had nothing in common.

“I gotta check on the kids,” Roger said, walking over to the wall phone by the refrigerator.

The heavyset man who'd implied an interest in his young female assistant spent fifteen minutes on the phone with his two children, who had been left without a sitter for the first time.

Jack and Darren joined their wives in the pool and swam around with them in their arms.

Mike stood in the kitchen and stared out the window, close to but not part of their world. What would it be like to have a family to come home to, to actually celebrate holidays instead of ignoring them? What would it feel like to commit to someone forever? To have children and a mortgage, maybe even a dog. How would his life be different if he had a place to come home to?

* * *

“You're limping more than you usually do,” Cindy said, moving closer to Mike and fighting the urge to slip an arm around his waist. She doubted he would appreciate the help.

“I know.” They closed the gate behind them and started down Beth's driveway. “I did too much at the gym.”

“I'm sure standing around at the party didn't help.” Even if he had looked mighty fine doing it.

Cindy smiled faintly, knowing he wouldn't be able to see her expression in the darkness. It was nearly eleven. They'd stayed late at the barbecue, swimming, and eating too much dessert. She patted her stomach and knew she would now be fighting six pounds instead of five.

She shifted the plastic bag containing the empty salad bowl and cake plate to her other hand. “Are you going to be able to make it?”

“Sure. As long as we go slow.” He held on to the fence until they reached the house, then he started down the driveway. “You can go ahead if you'd like.”

“No. I'd be afraid you wouldn't make it across the street. You can lean on me.”

He shook his head. “I'm too heavy.”

The streetlamp was two doors down and the circle of light didn't reach this far. They'd moved out of the range of Beth's back porch light. Night insects chirped and buzzed around them. It was still hot, but without the intensity of the sun. She could smell tropical flowers and cut grass.

Cindy had pulled a T-shirt over her swimsuit, but the rest of her clothes were in the plastic bag with the serving pieces. She swung the bag back and forth in time with their slow steps.

“Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“It was different.”

“Hmm, why do I think that's a no?”

They'd reached the sidewalk. Mike paused. “It's not a no. I've never been to a barbecue before. It was unusual. I'm starting to learn your suburban rituals.”

He drew in a deep breath. “If it's not too much trouble, could I put my arm around you?”

“Sure.” She moved closer. “Lean as much as you need to. I'm stronger than I look.”

His arm settled on her shoulders. She could feel his heat and inhale the scent of him. He smelled masculine. It had been a long time since she'd been this close to the opposite sex. Years, in fact, not counting brotherly hugs from her friends' husbands or the moments she had spent trapped under Mike on the sofa.

She placed her arm around his waist and held on. “You doing okay?”

“Fine. Sorry to be such a problem.”

“It's no big deal. I should have noticed you were in pain.” She tried not to notice how right it felt to be next to him. It was just because he was a good-looking man, she told herself. But she knew it was more than that, and it scared her to death.

“I'm glad we went tonight,” she said, to distract herself. “Having plans on Saturday night helps me forget the kids are gone.”

“You really miss them.”

“Of course.”

“But I heard you say you wanted Nelson to spend more time with them.”

They inched their way down the driveway onto the street. She could feel Mike tense with each step. “It's hard for me when they're gone, but I believe children need a mother and a father. I'm doing the best I can, but I still want them to see Nelson. He doesn't want the responsibility, though.” She sighed. “There's a father-daughter campout in a few weeks. He swears he's going to go with Allison, but I know him. About a week before they're supposed to go, he'll call and tell me that something's come up. That will break her heart. I think Nelson doesn't want to risk spending time alone with the children. I think he's afraid of them.”

“This guy has a lot of problems, Cindy. You have great kids.”

She felt a flush of pleasure. “You don't know any other kids, so why should I trust your judgment?”

“I just know.” He limped silently for a minute then said, “If Nelson backs out of the campout, I'll go with Allison.”

She stopped and stared at him. They were standing a little more than halfway across the street. The streetlight didn't reach here and there weren't any cars on the cul-de-sac.

“Why would you do that?”

“Why not? I like Allison, and I enjoy camping. It was one of the best things about being in the service.”

“You're crazy,” she told him. “We're talking about a father-daughter campout. There will be seventy or eighty little girls running around and getting into trouble.”

“So?”

“You must have hit your head harder than you thought when you fell off that building.”

Her tone was teasing. He glanced at her. “It's no big deal. I'm happy to go with her. Really. Why is that so hard to believe?”

Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could make out his features. He was still good-looking enough to make her thighs overheat and her palms sweat. Right now they were standing so close, their hips brushed together. His arm was around her shoulders, hers was around his waist. If she was really foolish, she could pretend this was a romantic moment. That he was holding her because he wanted to and not because his leg was about to give out on him.

“You're very sweet,” she said. Without thinking, she raised herself on tiptoe and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured just before she touched his skin.

But in that second, he turned his head and her lips brushed against his mouth.

Cindy froze. She told herself she should pull back, but the arm around her shoulders tightened. Besides, she didn't want to. She hadn't felt that shiver of anticipation in a long time, although she wasn't sure she remembered exactly how one kissed a stranger.

While she was still debating, Mike took the decision out of her hands. He bent his head closer and pressed his mouth to hers.

His lips were as firm as she'd imagined them to be. He didn't attack or invade; instead, he held the contact, prolonging it until the electricity crackled between them and she had to drop the plastic bag she was holding.

Her eyes were closed. It seemed like too much trouble to open them. He drew back slightly and murmured her name. She smiled at the sound of his voice. “You're so beautiful,” he whispered. She knew she wasn't, but at that moment, she didn't care.

He pulled her firmly against him. She went willingly. His chest was broad and hard. Her breasts nestled against him as if they'd been as lonely as the rest of her. She angled her head so when he brought his mouth down on hers again, she could feel all of him.

He kissed with the slow thoroughness of a man who enjoyed the act for its own sake and not just because it was the quickest road to sex. He brushed her mouth back and forth, then touched her lower lip with his tongue.

She parted for him, wanting to taste him and feel him, but he didn't enter. Instead, he traced the shape of her mouth, learning every curve, as if later he might be called upon to describe it in detail. She raised her free hand to his shoulders and melted against him.