Waking Up (8 page)

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Authors: Amanda Carpenter

BOOK: Waking Up
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“You take it so very serenely,” said Ian oddly then, as he reached for one of her hands, cradling it briefly.

Their eyes met in perfect understanding. “I’ve never been possessive of you.”

“I know,” he replied, gently squeezing her fingers. “And sometimes I regret that very much.”

Then she smiled with affectionate malice. Given she didn’t know whether it was directed at him, or herself. “But only sometimes,” she said softly and returned the pressure of his hand quickly before withdrawing her hand. “Only sometimes.”

He took her home, and they sat for several moments in his car, talking quietly. Then Ian told her, “My attitude tonight doesn’t mean a thing, you know. I hope that you’ll continue to see me, Robbie. I enjoy being with you very much.”

She patted his cheek and opened her door. “Ian, you enjoy anything in a skirt,” she said, which made him laugh as he climbed out and saw her to her front door. He waited beside her, a dark, handsome, wholly likeable man, and she was very, very glad that she was not in love with him as she turned to face him. Being in love with Ian could break one’s heart. “Give me a call.”

He bent his head and pressed a gentle, firm kiss to the side of her mouth and then ran swiftly back to his car.

Tiredly, Robbie entered the house, locked the front door behind her, and made her way up the stairs. She creamed off her makeup with calm, deliberate finger strokes, brushed her teeth meticulously, and went to her room to slip into a cool, cotton nightshirt. Her window was shut, and the room felt stiflingly warm, so she went to thrust up the glass pane. A cool breeze wafted in and licked at her skin, making her sigh as she stared out at the blue and gray shadowed, familiar night.

Her fingers tangled in the sides of her nightshirt, and she looked down at her slim figure, suddenly, dully bitter. She raised her hands and cupped her slight breasts, touching at her nipples and then running her fingers down her slim waist and hips. No creamy, luscious body to adorn with extravagant nightwear here. No full, burgeoning breasts or generous hips to incite a man to lusting passion. No enticing features, lustrous, beckoning eyes, or glossy falling curls for a man to bury his face into.

A hot wave of angry yearning trembled through her. She was a good friend, oh yes, she was a great, understanding pal to one and all.

Good sport, good listener, good for laughs. She whirled and threw herself onto her bed, and drove her clenched fist violently into her pillow while she thought of the womanly ideal, satin creamy skin, and the passion of men.

 

 

Her week went by much as the others had done before it, though she couldn’t seem to shake the restlessness that had plagued her since Sunday night. She worked hard, cleaned the house until it was spotless, and trimmed and pruned outside until Herb said he doubted anything would grow again, and all this was in an effort to tire herself enough so that she could sleep the night through.

Marilyn, her favorite coworker at the restaurant, was having a birthday party that Saturday afternoon and evening, and she had warned Robbie well in advance so that she could sign off work to attend. All the employees were invited, and would show up either before or after their shift if they had to work that day, and Marilyn’s large family and circle of friends would also come. The blonde, a cheerful, unflagging extrovert, turned thirty on Saturday and was determined that the world should know it. She had confessed to Robbie that she was expecting close to a hundred guests when estimating the escorts and children of the people invited.

Marilyn and her husband John bad done quite well for themselves, with a spacious house and lawn, and a private swimming pool at the back. Marilyn’s waitressing job was more of a hobby to keep her busy rather than any real need for the money. Her main interests in life were her husband, two children, and home, which she loved to redecorate every year at great cost of both time and money. Robbie had been advised to bring her swimsuit and a change of clothes, for the party would last from three in the afternoon to well into the night, with food being served the entire time.

Normally she would have enjoyed the prospect of going to a party, but for some reason, she was ultra-sensitive to the fact that she would be attending alone.

But she was just good old Rob. She wished in an explosion of fervency that she could show up with an incredibly handsome, charismatic man in tow who was obviously besotted with her and no one else. She longed rather forlornly for a whirlwind romance.

She had breakfasted lightly and late, and lounged dispiritedly in her chair at the table, dawdling over a third cup of coffee. She mopped, her slim chin tucked into the heel of one propped up hand, her lower lip thrust out in a dissatisfied pout. Maybe she should really cut loose and splurge on that vacation in the Bahamas about which she secretly dreamed. Maybe she should buy a new wardrobe. Maybe she should move.

A dark shadow fell over the table, and she turned her head to stare broodingly at Jason as he rapped on the glass door with the backs of his first two fingers. “It’s unlocked!” she called out, loudly enough for him to hear.

He came inside, thrust the door shut behind him, and eyed her up and down as he commented, “Sunny mood we’re in today, I see. Got any more coffee?”

“Help yourself.” She ducked her nose into her cup and finished hers. As he sat down beside her, he quickly searched her face with his vivid eyes, and though she was well aware of the perusal, she didn’t care enough to change her countenance.

“I’m not sure I want to sit that close to you,” he told her, with a delicate shudder. “The way you look, you might start frothing at the mouth and biting any moment now.”

After a moment, she asked, subdued, “Do I look that bad?”

His brows shot up as he realized the depth of her dejection, and he said, quickly reassuring, “No, of course not. I was just teasing. But I must say, you don’t look very happy with your lot in life.” He raised his cup to his lips.

“Jason, I need a man,” said Robbie plaintively, and he spat coffee across the table. That made her laugh, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand while regarding her sourly, wheezing.

“That’s right, laugh it up. You shouldn’t say such things when I’ve just taken a drink,” he complained, as he rose to get a paper towel. After wiping up the spilt coffee, he sat down again while sending her an understandably wary look.

“I’m being serious,” she said, once again morose and watched him from under her brows as he gingerly gave his coffee a second try.

“Whatever do you need a man for?” he asked and then quickly added, with an irrepressible grin, “I mean, aside from what obviously comes to mind.”

“I’m going to a party tonight, and I don’t want to go on my own,” she replied and heaved a great sigh.

“No problem. I can take you.”

“You?” she responded with astonishment. He was clad in his usual disreputable cut-off jean shorts, barefoot and bare-chested, sinuous muscles rippling under sleek tanned skin. His hair was quite short as if he had just recently had it cut, and it hugged his well-shaped skull attractively.

He winced exaggeratedly and then expostulated with some heat, “Do you have to sound so unflatteringly amazed? I, too, have been known to date occasionally.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” she replied quickly. “It’s just that I hadn’t thought of you as a possibility. It’s pretty short notice. I hadn’t expected to find anyone to go with.”

The sardonic look that had appeared at her first, surprised exclamation disappeared, and he assured her, “Well, as it happens, I’m free tonight if you want me to accompany you.”

“Are you still seeing Linda?” The question slipped out before she knew it, and she could have bitten her tongue out.

Only a quick lift of his brows and a flicker in those light gray eyes acknowledged any response to her question. “Off and on,” he said very casually. “She’s seeing quite a bit of Walsh lately.”

“She tells you about it?” Robbie asked, somewhat taken aback, and he gave her a secretive smile.

“Yes, she confides in me quite a bit,” he admitted while watching every nuance and change in her expression.

She swallowed and said hollowly, “I see,” which of course she didn’t, and he made no effort to elaborate on the subject.

“I came over to tell you that I’m on vacation for two weeks now,” Jason told her, leaning back and stretching out his long legs. They collided with hers, and she hastily drew away from the contact, disturbed by the sensation of his warm, silken-haired calf against hers.

He was too observant, and to draw attention away from her sensitive reaction to his touch, she asked him, “So what are you going to do with yourself?”

“I’m not sure yet. I thought that, if you’d like to, we could drive up to Sandusky and spend a day at Cedar Point.”

She brightened at the thought. “That sounds fun.” It also brought back images of time past. When Jason had first obtained his driver’s license, they had spent months begging their respective parents to let them go up to the amusement park for the day. They’d had no apparent success until summer had arrived, and Herb along with Jason’s parents had sat them down for a long, stern lecture about safe driving and good conduct. At the end of it, Mr. Morrow had thrown Jason the keys of their second car, while Herb had given Robbie a few twenty-dollar bills for spending money. She and Jason had been wildly delirious with the unexpected freedom, and had spent the day on wild rides and laughter. When she had gone to bed late that evening, she had still been able to feel the motion of the roller coasters plunging up and down. It was a good memory.

“We’ll plan on it, then,” he promised and rose to take his empty cup to the sink. “I’d better get busy. I’ve used all the towels and washcloths up at home, so I guess I’ll have to do some laundry,” he told her with a grin. As she laughed, he asked, “When does this party start?”

“Three o’clock. They have a pool, so bring your swimming trunks and a change of clothes.” He passed behind her, and as he went towards the back door, she said softly, “Thanks, Jason.”

He stopped, and she felt his lips press quickly against the top of her head. It sent a glow down to her toes. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” As he left, she sat for some time, marveling at the affectionate, warm person he had become.

She reluctantly cleaned out the refrigerator, as it was a chore she hated, and after giving the cubicle a good scouring on the inside, she plugged it back in and restocked it with the things she had stored in their deep freezer. Then, checking her wristwatch, she found that she had whiled away enough time to start getting ready for the party, so she ran upstairs quickly.

She wore her bikini under her cherry-red shorts with a matching tank top, and she threw a thin cotton skirt into a bulky shoulder bag for later that evening. She also tucked some lotion, a comb and towel, and a few items of makeup into the bag and then she put her brown hair back into a short, sleek braid which would look neat for hours and also keep the hair out of her eyes. After thickening her lashes with waterproof mascara and running a light coat of lip gloss over her well-defined lips, she was ready and skipped downstairs again.

Jason was talking to Herb in the living room, and as she approached quietly from the open doorway, she took a few moments to observe him without being noticed herself. He stood straight and tall in a light blue sleeveless shirt, with brief black shorts that ended high on his muscled thighs and hugged his slim hips tightly. His sleek, well-brushed hair shone brown and light gold, eyes bright and intelligent against the tawny background of his tan. Whereas she turned a deep, nutty brown in the summers, Jason turned golden.

With an odd thrill of shock, Robbie realized that while she had been bemoaning the absence of a sleek and handsome man in her life, Jason had been there all along, and he was suddenly, heart-stoppingly, shatteringly, sexually attractive to her. It kicked into life in her chest, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would never be able to act nonchalantly around him again.

He looked up and to her, a sudden, vivid gaze. Mouth straight and firm, unsmiling, he stared at her as she stood in shadow. She looked from his high, prominent cheekbones, down the lean curve of his cheek, to that strong jaw and the slim, muscled lines of his throat. Her mouth was dry, and she couldn’t swallow.

Then her father looked up, saw her, and asked, “Hiding in the hall for any particular reason?”

She shook herself and walked forward slowly. “No, I just remembered that I haven’t bought Marilyn a birthday present.”

“No problem,” Jason told her, running his gaze down her legs. Having gone half-dressed around him for most of her life, she suddenly felt as though she were practically naked and flushed uneasily. “We can pick up something on the way. Are you ready?”

She met his gaze with her large brown eyes for just a moment and then had to look away, feeling exposed, feeling as though he must be able to sense what was throbbing in her so strongly. God, she would never be the same. “Yes,” she replied quietly and turned back to head for her room.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t have my purse in this bag. We’ll need some money for the gift.”

He walked to her in quick, long strides and curved his fingers around her forearm. “Don’t worry about it, I have money. Let’s go.”

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