Where Dreams Begin (14 page)

“You’re undoubtedly a marvelous cook, but I need to go home, clean up, and get to work. Are you coming in today?”

“Looks like we’re right back to where we began with my schedule.” She led the way downstairs, then took his mug and set it on the table in the entryway. She still felt warm all over and much too lazy to leave home. She could barely find the energy to swing open the front door.

“No, not today,” she replied. “After last night, I’d be too distracted to get anything done.”

Luke leaned in to kiss her good-bye. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Good, it was meant to be.”

She remained at the open door until he’d driven away, but after closing it, she leaned back against the polished wood and slid down to the floor in a disjointed heap. She was happy clear to her toes, but while Luke had been quite pleasantly relaxed that morning, he’d left without expressing any hope of seeing her outside of Lost Angel.

Perhaps he’d forgotten their late night conversation about dating, or maybe her wistful memories of Sam had put him off, but he’d soon wear out his welcome if all he wanted was sex. Joyce dismissed such rude men as “Midnight Creepers”, and while her friend had run into more than her share, Catherine wouldn’t tolerate even one.

While Luke certainly had a healthy appetite for sex, so did she, but she’d never trusted condoms. She wondered if it wouldn’t be wise to go back on the pill. But after all the years of avoiding pregnancy, the possibility of an unplanned baby was almost irresistibly sweet. She harbored little hope that Luke’s response would be as positive, however, for after losing his only child, she doubted he’d welcome another.

It was a wrenching thought, but Luke was simply too vulnerable for their future to be forecast with any accuracy, and yet she felt a compelling need to know just what was possible. She’d prided herself on learning to live in the moment; but while it brought fleeting comfort, after one night with Luke, she needed more.

Embarrassed to feel so pathetically needy, she shoved herself to her feet and tightened her belt. One wild night didn’t mean Luke and she would fall in love and remain together, but that she could even entertain such an intriguing possibility gave her hope that one day Luke could too.

The heavy volume of commuter traffic demanded Luke’s complete attention on the way home, but once he’d stepped into his shower and turned on the water full-blast, he began to shake. Grief had numbed his emotions for so long, but last night he’d felt a hell of a lot more than mere lust.

Catherine had such a deceptively innocent gaze, he’d never expected her to be so abandoned in bed. Nor had he displayed a shred of reserve himself. And now what? he agonized. Seize the moment, or back off before it was too late?

“Oh, hell, it’s already too late.” He propped his arms against the tile and let the water pound down on his shoulders, but all he got for his efforts was wet. He might be able to wash off the lingering traces of Catherine’s seductive scent, but her endearing presence remained coiled around his heart. He could still feel the sweetness of her caress and hear her soft moans of surrender. Best of all was the memory of how gracefully she’d welcomed him into her bed.

Stubbornly refusing to allow his thoughts to drift in that enticing direction, he shut off the water and grabbed a towel. Catherine Brooks invited all manner of entertaining daydreams, but he resisted making plans for the real world beyond a single day. She deserved better. Hell, so did he, but he no longer trusted life to be good.

The problem was, now that he’d tasted Catherine’s delicious affection, he ached for more, but it disgusted him to offer no more than eventual disaster in return. If he possessed an ounce of character, he knew he should be brutally honest with her now.

He didn’t want another wife, nor could he bear to father another child who might go skipping off to school one day and never come home. He could see it all so clearly. It might take a year or even two before his refusal to consider marriage and family would force Catherine to end their affair with pain-choked sobs, but the day would surely come.

It would be better to blow it all apart right now. He wiped the fog from the mirror with a hand towel and stared at his reflection, but all he saw were eyes so shadowed by loss that he wondered if Catherine hadn’t already guessed the truth he’d kept so well-hidden last night.

In his present dark mood, he’d be lucky to shave without cutting his throat, and it was a damn good thing that Catherine wouldn’t be volunteering today. He’d barely lathered his cheeks, however, before the brief sense of relief turned to despair. He missed her already, but he was determined to do the honorable thing just as soon as he could speak the words.

Catherine was weeding the backyard flower beds when Joyce knocked lightly on the gate. “Are you busy?” she called. “I need help.”

Catherine stood, brushed off her knees and yanked off her gardening gloves. “Come on in. The weeds will wait. What’s the problem?”

Joyce reached over the gate to flip up the latch and let herself in. “It’s Wednesday, and I still haven’t called Shane. If I wait any longer, it’ll look as though he’s my last resort.”

“God forbid. Would you like some lemonade?”

“Thank you, I sure need something.” Joyce flopped down at the patio table and waited for Catherine to bring the refreshments. The flavorful beverage was as cold and sweet as expected, but when Catherine raised her glass, Joyce noticed a purple smear on her middle fingernail.

“I’ve always admired your poise. Please tell me that you didn’t slam your finger in a door.”

“Sorry, but that’s exactly what I did, and it wasn’t only stupid, but painful.”

“I’ll bet, but where’s your wedding ring?”

A white band marked its usual place on her finger, and suddenly self-conscious, Catherine dropped her hands into her lap. “I decided it was time to remove it, and as I left the bedroom, I pulled the door shut behind me and caught my finger.”

“Sounds like a cosmic message to me,” Joyce exclaimed. When Catherine responded with a puzzled frown, she sat forward in her chair. “You made the decision to take off your ring, enter the next phase of your life, if you will. But part of you, perhaps subconsciously, clings to the past, and wham, you’re given a painful reminder that every choice has its price.”

Because Catherine had already linked the two events in her mind, Joyce’s comment made perfect sense. “Frankly, I thought it was Sam. Even if I can let go, it might be too soon for him.”

“I hadn’t considered Sam,” Joyce admitted, “but I’ll concede the possibility. Now tell me who prompted you to remove your ring.”

“First call Shane,” Catherine directed smoothly. “Use your cell phone.”

Annoyed to be reminded of the man, Joyce began to rummage in her oversized purse. “That’s why I’m here. I need you to tell me what to say.”

“This is scarcely a challenge. You’ll probably get his service or answering machine. Just give your name and number, invite him to the opening, and wait for his response.”

Joyce fumbled with his card then set it on the glass-topped table to dial with a fuchsia-tipped nail. “Hello, may I please speak with Shane?”

Catherine flashed an okay sign and sipped her lemonade. Joyce appeared to be handling the call calmly, but Catherine understood her apprehension and hoped Shane would be pleased to hear from her.

After a brief exchange, Joyce ended the call and slapped her cell phone shut. “That was his mother.” She moaned. “If she actually gives him the message, what are the odds that he’ll return my call?”

“If she answers his business telephone, she must be capable of forwarding a message. At any rate, I’m proud of you for trying. If Shane doesn’t respond, go to the opening alone. Maybe you’ll meet someone interesting there.”

Hunched over her purse, Joyce looked uttered crushed. “I should have kept count of the times I’ve done that and found every man in the room with his wife.” She consoled herself with a long sip of lemonade before she recalled Catherine owed her an answer.

“So, what’s his name?” she asked.

Catherine had already decided just how little she wished to reveal. “Luke Starns, he’s the director of Lost Angel, and I wouldn’t have met him had I not been so insistent about becoming a volunteer.”

Joyce’s gaze narrowed slightly. “Can you describe him in a single word?”

“How would you describe Shane?”

“Hot!”

Luke was definitely hot, but Catherine believed he deserved more than the provocative adjective implied. “Intense,” she said instead.

“Oh, lord. Please tell me he’s not one of those dark, brooding types.”

That was part of Luke too, but Catherine shook her head. “He’s complex, but he knows how to laugh.”

“And from the width of your enigmatic smile, he knows a lot more. I don’t suppose he’s in his twenties, is he?”

“No, late thirties. Now don’t you have appointments to keep or fabric to order this afternoon?”

Joyce checked her watch and leapt from her chair. “Damn, I procrastinated longer than I’d thought. I’ll let you know what happens with Shane.”

“Please do.”

Catherine finished her lemonade before going back to work on the flower beds. When she next took a break, she carried her book on CBEST test preparation outside to study. She wasn’t worried about passing the sections of the exam devoted to reading and writing skills, but it had been quite awhile since she’d taken a math class.

She’d just begun to study the book’s chapter on algebra when the telephone rang, and she hurried inside to answer. When she heard Luke’s voice, she leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed her legs.

“How are things at Lost Angel today?” she asked.

“Pretty good, actually. If you’re free Saturday night, I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

“Are you suggesting a real date?”

“That’s my intention.”

“Then I’m most definitely available.” She glanced at the calendar on the counter and wished he’d wanted to see her that very night rather than wait until the weekend.

“If you’ll come in tomorrow,” Luke coaxed, “we can tour the neighborhood. I’d like to show you the most promising possibilities for the mural.”

“You needn’t offer enticements for me to visit the center.” Delighted he was more anxious to see her than it had first appeared, Catherine licked her lips.

“That’s good to hear, but I don’t want you to think I’m not interested in going ahead with the mural. There are too many kids sitting around here all day with nothing to do except get into trouble, and an ambitious mural would keep them occupied a long while.”

Catherine waited for him to say something more personal, then realized he must prefer to keep his office conversations focused on business. “I’ll be there in the morning. Sweet dreams,” she couldn’t resist adding before hanging up.

Thursday morning, Catherine wore tan slacks and a sunny yellow sweater into Lost Angel. Luke’s door was open, and this time it was Pam who waved her on in. Luke left his seat to close the door, and then he leaned back against his desk and pulled her between his splayed knees.

He kissed her lightly, then whispered, “I’ll always be glad to see you walk through my door, but we’ll have to be discreet. Whatever relationship we might have outside Lost Angel has to remain a closely guarded secret.”

She slid her arms around his waist. “You’re giving me a decidedly mixed message here, Dr. Starns, and as I recall, body language holds more truth than words.”

A warning flash crossed his gaze, but it faded before she could be certain she’d actually seen it. Still, she felt uneasy. “What’s the matter? Have I strayed into your area of expertise?”

He responded first with a reassuring kiss. “No. You’re an intelligent woman, and you have every right to your opinions. You’re also correct about my body language. It’s appalling.”

“I’m not appalled.” She ran her fingertips under his collar and leaned close to kiss him.

He sent that single kiss into a dozen before he found the presence of mind to ease her back a step. “We better get out of here, now.”

Amused by his haste, she remained where she stood. “Are you worried the kids will tease you unmercifully?”

“They already have. That day you served the spaghetti, Nick swore you had a crush on me.”

“Really? Did I give you extra spaghetti?”

“No, but you were flirting with me. So we’ll have to be more careful. I’m a father figure here, but I’m also the resident psychologist. It’s already a struggle to keep our group sessions focused on problems and solutions, but if the kids mention you to divert the attention from themselves, then my leadership will be severely compromised. I can’t allow that to happen.”

He was wearing a soft chambray shirt, but it was his heat she felt, not the smoothness of the fabric. He was holding her in an easy embrace and seemed sincerely pleased to see her rather than torn by regret. That was reassuring, but she doubted they could keep their budding romance a secret for long.

“While I can certainly be discreet,” she confided, “if the choice is seeing you or volunteering here, then you win in a heartbeat. After all, you have to be here. I don’t.”

“I appreciate that, but I haven’t dated any other volunteers, so maybe I’m just being overly cautious. I definitely want you to head up the mural project. Now come on, let’s go scout the neighborhood.”

She stepped back as he eased off the desk. “I’ve never made love on a desk, have you?”

He attempted an exasperated frown, but it was swiftly erased by laughter. “Is that your idea of discretion?”

She drew herself up into a prim and proper posture. “Sorry. I’ll give it more effort,” she promised, and she preceded him from the office with a purely professional nonchalance.

“Let’s use my car. We’ll be back within the hour, Pam.”

Catherine caught Pam’s wink and knew at least one person was already in on their secret. Pam would probably tell Dave, and he might mention it to Mabel, and before long, all the kids and volunteers would know they were seeing each other.

She waited until they were seated in Luke’s Subaru to speak. “I hope you’ve already had a talk with Pam, because if that sly wink meant anything, it’s that she already knows about us.”