Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) (13 page)

“Nice catch.”

“Thanks. We still going by Uncle Jake’s to swim before we head home? I’m sweating like a pig.” Uncle Jake wasn’t really his uncle. But judging by the way they talked, he and his dad had been friends since God was in diapers. They also let him hang out with them on school breaks. Uncle Jake didn’t treat him like a kid when he was around, which counted for a lot in his book.

“Yeah, sure. Here comes the last ball. It’s a long one.” Dropping a leg back, Dad raised his arm and let her fly.

Trey fell back, easily caught the pass, then ran in. Even though the sun was gone it was too friggin’ hot. He was ready to jump in the pool.

The grass on the field was dry and crunchy, like it got every summer. A black asphalt track circled the field—the track his mom ran on almost every morning. After a few long strides they hit the parking lot. “You sure I can’t stay home by myself this weekend? It’s only a couple of days, and I’m not a little kid anymore.” He was pretty sure he could talk his dad into it, but his mom kept a pretty short leash.

“Nope, not crossing the warden, champ.” His dad clamped an elbow around his neck and knuckled-rubbed the top of his head. “I want to enjoy my weekend.”

He ducked out of the fake hug. He liked it a lot, but he didn’t want his dad to think he was a girl. “Yeah, I figured, but it was worth a shot. Can we go to the batting cages next week?” It was good to stay sharp, and his dad was a pretty good coach.

“Sure thing, champ.”

His chest had that same puffed up feeling every time his dad called him
champ
, his special nickname ever since he could remember. His mom always called him something lame, like sweetheart, or honey. “Hey Dad, can I drive? It’s only five miles.”

“Ah, the question every father of a fifteen-year-old fields regularly. Dream on, champ.” Dad chuckled and swung behind the wheel, gunned the engine and waited for him to buckle in.

“Are you sure they’ll hold our reservation?” A couple of schedule snafus—a last minute consult with the lead electrician, final tweaks to the plans for a new office complex—and Ben had them running late.

“Relax, I called. They said everything’s fine. We should be there by ten.” His phone dinged. Stopped at a red light on the way out of town, his lips thinned as he read his text. He crammed the phone into his shirt pocket.

Her shoes pried off, she kicked her feet onto the dash. “I’m glad we didn’t put off going north this year.” If she sucked in her stomach and bent forward she could reach the air vent to adjust it. In Sedona they wouldn’t need air conditioning. “I love the fall colors, but I am so ready to cool off for a few days.”

She slid a glance to the face of her husband. That face was dearer today than when they first met fifteen years ago over pizza. The crow’s feet when he smiled and the grizzle in his beard were something she still wasn’t used to, even if they did radiate character and authority. And sex appeal—she smiled to herself—in a George Clooney sort of way.

Ben opened his mouth to speak. Snapped it shut in a move that reminded her of Trey’s guppy and then faced her. “Trey could have stayed home alone. He’s old enough not to need a babysitter.”

“Maddie’s not a babysitter. We’re only making sure Trey doesn’t get into trouble, Ben. I didn’t want to worry about him over the weekend.” She unclenched the fists resting on her lap—a reaction to the guilt trip Trey had been leading her on all week. “Besides, it makes it easier for Maddie to get him to football practice.”

She didn’t want to argue about this. Trey probably could have stayed by himself. But by the time today rolled around, the idea of not giving in to her son’s pleading was simply a matter of principle. Thankfully Ben remained silent, merely nodded and turned his attention back to the road.

The interminable weekend was finally over. She stood on the porch of the ancient Victorian and scanned the yard; let the peace of the quiet afternoon seep into her. The gardens lining the stone walkways valiantly struggled against the warmth of the August sun, but the trees dotting the property still retained their full complement of green. It was still too early in the year for autumn color.

This weekend with Ben was supposed to be special, a relaxing break from work, away from the punishing heat of the city. Even—and yes, the guilt of it still niggled at her—away from Trey.

Even now she wasn’t sure what happened. Saturday morning they did a little hiking, a little shopping—everything was fine. But some time during lunch his good mood vanished.

She’d sat across from Ben at a cloth-covered table, feet whimpering from the miles they’d trekked. “Maggie will love that pottery bowl we found for her.” The server set her Cobb Salad before her. She smiled her thanks. “I hope Trey didn’t give her any trouble.”

Ben sliced through his chicken breast, then raised his eyes. “Trey? Does he ever?”

“Not that I know of.” A young girl sat perched in a wooden high chair nearby, blonde curls caught up in pink ribbons. Tiny white sneakers banged against the legs of her chair. Playing patty cake with her mother. Allie darted her eyes away, hadn’t meant to stare.

He hadn’t said a civil word to her since.

She breathed deeply of the clean mountain air, wished there was more time before she had to climb in the car.

Ben finished loading their bags into the trunk and slammed the lid. “Hurry up. We need to get back.” Impatience radiated from him in waves. “We’ll be back for our anniversary next year.”

Right now she wasn’t taking odds. “Sure.” She approached the car, climbed in. With a parting glance she scanned the oaks and the pines surrounding the house. Ben shot her an enquiring look and she nodded silently.

Next year could only be better. For now, it was time to get home.

Ben already had their bags in the house. After starting the wash, Allie stepped back outside and strode down the walk to the driveway, shoving her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “Trey knows we’re back. I told him you’d be by to pick him up.”

Ben was just tucking his phone away. Preoccupied, he glanced up and merely nodded. He ducked under the hood of the car, digging deep into the mysteries of the engine as the lavender of twilight settled around them.

“This car’s almost out of warranty. I want to find a new one for you, something safe.” He jiggled and tugged, scowling into the dark recess. “The old girl needs a tune-up for now, though. I’ll trade vehicles with you one day this week, have Steve in the shop take a look at it.”

Now he wanted to talk. And about the car, no less. Go figure. She paused on her way back into the house. “Are you hungry?”

Ben slammed the hood back in place. “Not yet. Keep dinner easy. I’ve got a stop to make first, then I’ll get Trey.”

Jake scowled into the darkened interior of his car. He needed a life. No, not just a life, a
different
life. Of the upgraded, new-and-improved variety.

For fifteen years now he’d been hanging out, waiting. Surviving obscurely in the periphery of his own existence.

Well, fuck that.

Okay, so maybe he had women when he wanted them. Hell, he never claimed to be a saint. But they were merely diversions. An easy way to kill a few days, a few weeks at best. No relationships, no commitments, those were words to live by.

But his life needed purpose. Next week was his birthday, and nothing made a person question their presence in this world like a birthday. Starting now, he was making changes. Moving on. He may be satisfied with his professional life—most days even proud—but his personal life was in the shitter.

The company he ran with Ben—a company they built with hope and sweat—thrived. And at the end of the day Ben went home to Allie and Trey. But at the end of his day who did he have at home? Nobody, not even a dog.

He was no longer a young man. The man in the mirror nowadays wore gray peppered in his temples and reading glasses tucked in his shirt pocket. He was now a middle-aged male—and lonely. It was past time to find someone to share his life with. What the hell was he waiting for anyway?

He sighed loudly. Didn’t want to think too deeply about that.

“Sure hope that frown’s not for me, sugar.”

Jake jerked back to the present. Slipped his fingers around her hand and pressed it against her bare thigh. “Of course not. Guess I zoned out.”

A sheaf of wheat blonde fell forward as Michelle stretched to turn down Brad Paisley, and the country superstar’s tune lowered to a hum. “I surely have been looking forward to slipping away with you.” Turned to face him, melted chocolate-colored eyes danced with excitement. “The bright lights, the action; I haven’t been to Vegas in years.” An Atlanta transplant, Michelle’s voice dripped honeysuckle and magnolia blossoms. Her smile was seductive and inviting, even if he suspected it was practiced, yet Jake was glad they’d made a plan for the weekend. Michelle was intelligent and witty. And her long, long legs were incredibly sexy. He wished he cared.

He was first introduced to Michelle Lauder nearly two months ago. A senior engineer with Lauder and Martin, her firm provided consulting work on Rancho Encantado, T-Squared’s latest housing development. This weekend was his chance to get away from Phoenix. Away from the reminder that every year for fifteen years
they
had a special anniversary trip and he had nothing.

It was a five hour drive from Phoenix to Las Vegas. The glow of city lights appeared in the distance, bouncing off the low-lying clouds in the night sky, Jake settled into the seat of his luxury sedan. The CD changed in the player. George Strait.

“More country, Jake? Let’s try something different.” Michelle removed the CD, replaced it with Bach.

Bach?
Where the hell did she find that?

Thankfully, his torture was short-lived as he pulled up to the hotel—a glamorous marble and white light property that was charging him enough to feed a third world country for an entire year. He handed his keys to the valet and rounded the hood even as an energetic bellman loaded their suitcases onto a wheeled cart. The polished floor of the luxurious lobby reflected the glistening light from the glow of an opulent crystal chandelier as he steered an unimpressed Michelle to the reception desk and gave the attendant his name.