The Long Road Home (14 page)

“Come on, Clarisse. Look at me. Tell me what’s bothering you.” His soothing voice washed over her. “You’ve acted remarkably well with everything happening. I don’t think I’ve heard you complain once. Hell knows, you’ve had cause.”

She sniffed and rubbed at her cheeks, then turned. The sun’s fading rays caressed John’s face to liquid gold, softening his square jaw and prominent cheekbones and illuminating the gentle concern in his eyes. For some stupid reason, she wanted to cry that much more.

“I guess I’m not handling things very well right now,” she managed to get out. “I’ve had a hard time with you and me and—”

“You don’t have to explain. I think I understand.” He looked tense and a little unsure. “How about we both try to forget the past, the anger and everything else that went with it and start fresh—or at least try. I think it’ll make things easier for the next couple of days. How about it, hmm?”

She nodded silently, her lips curving into a wobbly smile.

“That’s better.” The tension in his expression softened, and he smiled. Almost tenderly, he brushed a remaining tear from her cheek with his knuckle. “For a minute there, you scared me. Other than watching Casablanca on the television, I’d never seen you cry.”

But then, he never saw her after she severed their relationship. She had cried like a fool, cried so much that she ran out of tears. Clarisse’s stomach growled loudly. Her eyes widened at the unexpected noise.

“From the sounds of things,” his lips twisted in mild amusement, “we better stop off and get something to eat. It sounds like your stomach isn’t going to hold out for much longer. Can you last until we find a hotel?”

“Sure.” The muscles in her shoulders and back relaxed, and she inhaled a deep, calming breath. Maybe the next couple of days were not going to be so bad.

Almost a half-hour later, John pulled into a motel that allowed small pets. Carrying the dog under one arm, Clarisse followed John to her room. She slipped past him while he dropped her bags at the door.

“I’ll get rid of my stuff. After a shower, I’ll be back to pick you up for dinner.”

The door closed behind him, and Clarisse placed the dog on the floor and glanced around. A round table with two gold, padded chairs rested in the corner, while an oak dresser with mirror sat across from the queen-sized bed. She ignored the mirror, not wanting to confirm a ravaged face caused from crying, and eyed the bed with longing. Rather than give in to temptation and lie down on the green and gold flowered bedspread, she forced her body into the bathroom.

She stripped and stepped under the shower. But the water drumming against her face and back failed to rejuvenate the sluggishness from her mind and body. But what did she expect after carrying on like an emotional lunatic? All that crying had left her mentally battered. Thank goodness John had been so patient and understanding.

At least her leg wasn’t troubling her. Only a dull ache throbbed in and around her knee. She could live with the slight discomfort. After five knee surgeries, this kind of pain was more a nuisance than anything else.

She changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a cream blouse, and applied a light foundation to hide the circles beneath her eyes. She was combing the last tangles from her hair when someone knocked. She opened the door and John strode in. His raven locks were slicked back from a recent shower and the dark shadow along his jaw had disappeared. His aftershave drifted to her, its scent clean, masculine, and…familiar. How sad. After all this time she still remembered the scent of his aftershave.

“Are you ready to go?” His gaze slid slowly over her features. “Or did you want to stay in and order pizza? You look exhausted.”

“Thanks for being so blunt.” She met his sheepish smile with one of her own. “Staying in sounds fantastic. I’d probably slide off my chair in a restaurant.”

“Then it’s pizza.”

While Clarisse sat down in one of the chairs, he cupped the receiver between his shoulder and chin. “Pepperoni, cheese, and bacon on half?” He glanced up, caught her nod and ran a finger over the telephone’s yellow pages.

He hadn’t even noticed, Clarisse mused in wonder. His question had been unconscious and automatic. Without realizing it, he remembered her favorite ingredients. She didn’t know if it held any significance. She just didn’t know what to think.

He hung up and joined her at the table. The silence between them lengthened with each passing second. Clarisse found an unnatural amount of interest in a hangnail on her thumb. Maybe it would have been better to go out. A hotel room, no matter how she tried to think otherwise, was provocative. She didn’t dare glance at the bed.

Even though John might think they could start fresh, Clarisse had doubts. She didn’t know how to talk to an intimate stranger. And he was a stranger. People did change in three years.

She glanced away from her thumb in disgust. A hangnail could hold only so much interest. The television caught her attention. A perfect tool to hide behind. “Is there anything good scheduled for tonight?”

“Let’s see.” He seemed to jump at the excuse. He flipped through the channels with the remote. It took all of thirty seconds.

Then she noticed the map by his hands. “Did you find out how much we’ve been delayed?”

“Not yet.” He opened the map and spread it out on the table between them.

She scooted in her chair. The action brought her too close. So close that she spotted a few gray hairs by his temple she had never noticed before. She mentally shook herself. Why couldn’t she keep her mind off John, and concentrate on more important things? Like getting to San Diego?

“We’ll have to take 160 to 64.”

She peered at the map. “We’ll be going near the Grand Canyon.”

John looked up. He must have heard the wistful tone in her voice, for he asked, “Did you want to stop there? I don’t mind. I planned on going there on my drive back.”

Clarisse shrugged, trying not to act too excited. “I don’t know,” she hedged. Even though sightseeing would lengthen their time together, the urge to see the famous sight was overpowering. As far back as she could remember, she had wanted to see the canyon, but for some reason the opportunity never arose, and right now, she didn’t see another one materializing anytime in the foreseeable future.

“We’d only need to take a detour of—let’s see here—less than fifty miles.”

She studied his bold, handsome face, the full lips curved at a sensuous angle, the square, almost stubborn jaw. When she met his compelling gray eyes, she realized she was too tired and road weary to fight her feelings. His masculinity and her attraction were too powerful.

She smiled, her stomach fluttered like a moth’s wings caught in a web. “Why not? After all those old westerns you made me sit through, it’s only right I get a chance to taste a little of the west.”

“I
made
you sit through?”

At his raised brow and twinkling gray eyes, she relented with a smile. “Okay, I admit I’m just as bad a movie buff as you. But you have to promise one thing.”

“Hmm?”

“We don’t get a flat,” she teased.

His deep throaty laugh, so sexy and male, entranced her. Her body warmed and stilled as longing flowed through her veins. John met her gaze and the humor in his face dissolved. Embarrassed at being caught staring, Clarisse tore her gaze away, unable to dismiss the sexual awareness plaguing her. Her gaze collided with the queen-sized bed. No, that wouldn’t do. She turned her attention back to the map.

The silence in the room thickened with awkwardness. Clarisse cleared her throat, but John spoke first. “When I talked to your sister on the phone, she sounded happy.”

Her sister. A safe topic. “Give Laura another couple of days, and happy won’t be the word to describe it. She’s going to be bouncing off the walls. She’d madly in love with Darren.”

“I’m glad. She’s a good kid.”

Clarisse could argue that point. When she reached San Diego she planned to verbally attack Laura for a good half-hour, then she would—she didn’t know what she’d do yet. But she would make sure her sister never pulled a stunt like this again. She had no doubt in her mind now that Jennifer wasn’t the only matchmaker. Laura was equally knee-deep when it came to hatching this crazy scheme that had her traveling across the country with her old boyfriend.

“So she wanted you to do the wedding?”

John nodded, smiling fondly. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

I just bet! “No doubt, she wanted the best.” At his raised brow, she grinned. “And don’t give me that modest look! You know it’s true. How else can you get away with charging the fees you do?”

Someone rapped on the door. Clarisse reached over for her purse, but John waved away the offer. After paying, he placed the pizza in the middle of the table. “I’ll be back with ice and drinks.”

While he was gone, she found two plastic glasses on the counter. Her stomach rolled. She was acting silly. So they were alone. And so what if a bed sat in the middle of the room. He might find her physically appealing, but he wouldn’t make any sexual advances. There was Vivian, and no matter what either one of them said, there was the past. And even if Vivian didn’t come into play, there was her leg. There would always be her leg.

John came back and joined her at the table. “You know, I was thinking. How does coming out of retirement for a day sound?”

The pizza lodged in her throat. She swallowed it down with difficulty. “I...I don’t know. I’d have to think about it.” She abhorred the idea. She didn’t want reminders of the past. Not to mention the poses he’d want her to do, sitting or standing frozen until her spine and muscles ached. But most importantly, her leg wouldn’t hold up under the strain.

He shrugged. “Just a thought. With the canyon as a backdrop, I could get some fantastic shots.”

They finished the remainder of their meal in silence. After John helped her clean up, she followed him to the door. At the threshold he paused. “Shall we say nine? That way we can sleep in. You look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet. We’ll take it easy tomorrow, have a big breakfast, and maybe take in a little of the countryside on the way to the canyon.”

“Sounds fine.” She looked up and slipped a blonde strand behind an ear.

His features grew serious as he put a hand on the doorjamb over his head and leaned closer. Her heart kicked up in anticipation and fear, and her breathing grew labored. It looked like he was going to kiss her...and she didn’t have a clue as to how she would react.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” His hand dropped to his side; he stepped back and walked away.

She closed the door. She wasn’t disappointed. Not at all. What was a kiss anyway? Just a meeting of mouths.

Oh, but what an exciting mouth, a little voice argued.

Toto jumped up and scratched at her leg. Grateful for the distraction, she picked him up. “Okay fellow. I get the hint. Time for a walk.” She found the leash and glanced down at the dog in her arms. “I’m beginning to think Toto was the perfect name for you. You not only look like him, but I’m beginning to feel like I’m traveling through OZ and I’ll never get back to Kansas.”

CHAPTER NINE

The Grand Canyon turned out more beautiful than Clarisse envisioned. Neither photographs nor movies prepared her for the sheer size of it. The sun burnished the rock into a kaleidoscope of color. Layers of pink, mauve, blue and gray lined the rock walls. She peered over the side of the metal railing and drew away at the dizzying drop.

By her feet, Toto sniffed and neared the edge. Even knowing the dog wasn’t about to leap over the side, she still found his proximity nerve-wracking. Heights had never been her forte. She urged him back with a tug of the leash.

A hint of awe in his voice, John said from beside her, “It’s beautiful. I can see why it’s one of the Seven Wonders of the World.” He inhaled deeply. “And the air. Can you smell it? Crisp and clean. I almost forgot what fresh air smelled like.”

Her lips twitched. “That’s what you get for living in the heart of New York City.”

“If I remember,” he mused fondly. “You used to love the city.”

“True. But I’m three years older. I want different things.”

“Like what?”

A husband, kids—a family. “The simple life. I’m a homebody now. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got plenty of opportunities to go out.” She didn’t want him thinking she was pining for him or any man. She enjoyed her company. “It’s just that I like the quiet life.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Clarisse I remember.”

She met his dubious yet teasing eyes and smiled. “It’s the truth.” The crash had forced her to take a hard look at her life. And now, because of it, she no longer needed or craved the spotlight. “What about you? Are you still out there rubbing shoulders with the elite?”

He shrugged, humor lighting his eyes to silver. “I go out. I don’t make a point of brown nosing. I have enough clients to keep the food on the table, and I’ve got a few friends I see on a regular basis. But it’s strange. In New York with people everywhere, a person can feel—”

“Lonely?”

His face hardened. “I didn’t say that.”

“You have Vivian.”

His brow arched skyward, yet nothing in his face revealed his thoughts. “Yes.”