Wild Mustang Man (15 page)

Within a few minutes Bridget was in the middle of a group of friendly men Suzy described as the “movers and shakers” of their high school class. She was busy answering their questions about the advertising business, when out of the corner of her eye she saw Josh. She stammered and stumbled over her words before she pulled herself together. It was too late to leave, but there were enough people there that she might be able to avoid him all afternoon. It was worth a try.

She shifted the conversation to “the movers and shakers” and let them talk about themselves, and all the while she felt Josh’s gaze on her. She could almost feel his hostility radiating across the wide grassy yard. He hadn’t forgiven her for butting into his life and telling him how to live it That made them even. Because she hadn’t forgiven him for the misplaced pity he felt for her.

Apparently she didn’t try hard enough to avoid him because just as she lined up for the buffet spread out on two long tables, he came up behind her. She held her breath. She wasn’t going to speak to him unless he spoke first. And he didn’t look like he was going to speak at all. Then why was he standing behind her, breathing down her neck? Yes, she could feel his warm breath against her hair, making her spine tingle. The noise and laughter swirled around them, but all she could think of was Josh. If he didn’t say something soon she’d do something desperate like...like—

“I’m not. It’s just a figure of speech.” She spooned some baked beans onto her plate so vigorously they splashed on her new shirt “Oh, damn,” she muttered.

“Here, let me.” Before she could jerk away, he’d pulled out his handkerchief and was mopping up the brown juice just under the red fringe of her shirt. Just under the fringe and just over her breast Despite her efforts to be cool and detached, his touch caused her nipples to harden and peak under the soft cotton. By the gleam in his eyes and the smile he was trying to smother, he knew what he’d done and he wasn’t one bit sorry. Damn him.

If he didn’t know it now, he would soon know how upset she was. Just as she was about to let loose with an angry outburst, in a refined and dignified way, of course, Josh casually fingered the fringe on her shirt.

“Nice shirt,” he said. “All you need is a hat and boots.”

“All I need is a glass of cold water to throw in your face.” A sheepskin jacket would be nice, too, to conceal her traitorous body’s response to his touch. But she would have to get along without either the water or the jacket. She’d just have to get herself under control. She’d have to forget how it felt to have him cup her breasts in his hands, brush her nipples with his thumbs. Her face flamed at the memory. He misread the high color in her cheeks.

Your heart. That’s what I want. But it isn’t yours to give. Not anymore. The words she could never say stuck in her throat “Nothing,” she said. “I have everything I want, thanks to your agreeing to be the Wild Mustang Man. I’m the one who’s grateful to you. Not to mention the fact that you’re having the crew overnight. I appreciate that.”

He shrugged. “Where else could they stay? Besides, Max is looking forward to them coming. He wants to take pictures, too. Ever since that day you let him use your camera, he’s been talking about it. Making movies, being in the movies. Maybe he’ll turn out to be a cinematographer.”

A tall man in a wide-brimmed hat came up behind Josh and slapped him on the back. “Gentry,” he said. “I’ll be damned if it isn’t our class president. God, it’s good to see you. Sorry to hear about Molly.”

Josh shook his head. “Not interested in football. Or horses. Only thing he cares about is riding his bike. Wants a motorbike next. And he’s only five.”

“Give him time. He’ll come around,” Dave said, spearing a piece of barbecued chicken. “What about a little scrimmage after lunch in the backyard. You up for that?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t played since that last game senior year.”

“Homecoming,” Dave said with a nostalgic smile. “We beat Anniston thirteen to twenty-one. What a game. I kept the football. And I brought the picture from the front page of the Harmony Times. Heard you’d be here today.” He reached into his shirt pocket for a yellowed clipping. “Here’s you, here’s me,” he said proudly.

Bridget leaned over his shoulder. The face that looked up out of the old clipping was the ail-American boy, so young, so tough, with the mud-splattered football uniform, and yet so vulnerable her heart stopped. What if she’d known him then? He wouldn’t have looked twice at her, Bridget told herself. He was in love with his Molly. Bridget dragged her gaze from the old newspaper. Tally spotted her and waved her over to her table. A few minutes later, Josh had found a place at the table between her and Tally’s husband, Jed. Bridget turned and gave him her coolest look, the one that said, if you want to avoid me, if you find me such a buttinski, an annoying thorn in your side, then why are you following me around this party?

By the way he’d wedged himself onto the bench next to her, he seemed oblivious to her apparent dislike for him, and he seemed determined to throw himself into the conversation with his old friends and classmates, to show everyone he hadn’t become a hermit or a recluse.

“I’ll never forget that night after the prom at the beach,” Jed said. “By shoving me in your car when I was drunk, you probably saved my life, Josh. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.”

“No need,” Josh said. “You would have done the same for me.”

“I guess none of us has forgotten that night,” Tally said softly. “And the wishes we made.”

Bridget held her breath. They talked as if she’d been there, and she almost felt like she had, hearing them all wish on a star as they sat on the sandy beach. Tally turned to Bridget, as if she suddenly remembered that she hadn’t been there.

“What would you have wished for, Bridget?” she asked. “If you’d been there.”

“Me? I...I don’t know,” she said, conscious of Josh’s thigh pressed next to hers, his arm brushing hers as he set his glass of beer on the table. “I guess I’ve always wanted to find love and happiness, and I also wanted to accomplish something. I’m not quite there yet,” she said wistfully.

“I know,” Tally said. “I remember. To live the same kind of life your parents lived. To have what they had. It seemed like you had it all within your grasp. I remember thinking that night that you had everything. I was so envious I could hardly stand to be around you. I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.”

“As I remember, sweetheart, you didn’t sound one bit sorry for yourself,” her husband said. “You had your career all planned out, how you were going to work hard and get a horse of your own, then a ranch.”

“That was just talk. An act I put on so no one would feel sorry for me. I never really thought I’d have those things. But I couldn’t let on. Nobody wants pity.”

Bridget glanced at Josh. He was looking at her. For just a moment their glances held. And in that moment she knew that he realized how badly he’d hurt her by what he’d said. How badly she’d hated being on the receiving end of his pity.

Tally broke the serious mood by going to get coffee for everyone. The talk went back to happier times, to memories of class pranks and dances and sports. Bridget listened, amazed at how different Josh seemed from the angry man she’d first met in his bathroom. Relaxed, easy-going, recalling old teachers, telling stories, laughing and joking. Was this all an act to show her and everyone else he was fine, to prove to her especially that he wasn’t lonely, that he not only had a big family, he had friends, as well? If it was an act, it was a good one.

After lunch people drifted away to play touch football on the side lawn. Somebody called Josh to join them, but he lingered at the table. Bridget lingered, too, though she knew she should get up and mingle. But with the sun filtering through the cottonwood tree that shaded Suzy’s house, a cup of coffee in front of her, warmed by the companionship as well as the sun, she just didn’t want to move. But when she saw she and Josh were the only ones left, she pressed her palms against the table and looked around nervously.

“Don’t go,” he said, capturing her wrists in his callused hands. “I want to talk to you.”

“I thought you’d said it all the other day,” she said, looking down at his large hands, hands that could tame a wild horse, soothe a sick child or drive a woman crazy with desire.

“I said too much,” he said. “About your having a lonely life. I didn’t know what I was talking about. You don’t have a lonely life. You couldn’t have. You attract people like...”

“Like flies, is that what you were going to say?” she asked.

He let her hands go and brushed her cheek with his knuckles, a sensual gesture that caused her to tremble. “Like honey. Like bees to honey. That guy that let you go. He was a fool. An idiot. You’re better off without him. But you know that. What you don’t know is that you’ll find someone else. Hell, you don’t even have to look. He’ll find you. You’ll have success, too, and you’ll have someone who will love you for what you are—a. ..a...” Josh wanted to say a gorgeous woman, a beautiful woman, inside and out, but he didn’t. If he did, he’d embarrass both her and himself.

He was trying to make up for the other day when he’d hurt her feelings, but he couldn’t seem to say what he felt— that she was warm, sweet, sexy and beautiful. It was true, but he couldn’t say it. It was also true that she’d made him feel alive again, that he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything. Including Molly. Molly was his boyhood dream. Bridget was his adult fantasy. He couldn’t say that, either. He shouldn’t even think it. Because the way she was sitting there, her beautiful hazel eyes flecked with green gazing at him expectantly, he had a strange feeling that she could read his mind.

“Yes?” she asked, a smile tilting the corners of her mouth. “Go on.” Her mouth tempted him. He knew exactly how it would feel if he kissed her now. So soft, so warm, so responsive. Her anger had melted as fast as the springtime thaw. If he was lucky, she’d kiss him back A whole string of hot, passionate kisses that would cause his heart to shift into overdrive.

He leaned forward—and caught himself just in time. What was he thinking? He couldn’t do it, couldn’t kiss her now, not even once. Because once wasn’t enough. Once led to twice, and then he’d lose count, right in the middle of this picnic with everyone he’d ever known within shouting distance. What would they think? They’d think he was the luckiest son of a gun in the world, he realized, to have found someone like Bridget And to have found love twice in his life. Love? Who said anything about love? What he felt for her was something else. It had to be. He just didn’t know what to call it.

Tired of waiting for the football star to join the game, Suzy organized three-legged sack races. When they were over, two of Josh’s former teammates came to get him, dragged him away from the table and tossed him the football. He caught it just as easily as he’d done fifteen years ago and ran down the length of Suzy’s backyard for a touchdown As he jogged back to the huddle he saw that Bridget was still at the table, engaged in animated conversation with some women from his class. It was almost as if she belonged there.

Bridget had a way of fitting in, he noticed, whether it was with his family or his classmates. It startled him to see her in that Western outfit, elbows on the table, chattering away as if she was a native Harmonian. But there was more to Bridget than that There was her guts, as Suzy put it, there was her caring, nurturing side—witness her care of Max when he was sick—and there was her playfulness, as he’d seen in the video she’d made with Max. And that wasn’t all....

To his surprise the women jumped up from the table and joined the game, spreading themselves out among the two teams as if they’d planned it. Bridget became a foreword linebacker on the other team, and before the kickoff she stared across the chalk line at him, her hands on her knees.

“That was then, this is now. If you ask me, you shouldn’t rest on your laurels. You looked a little rusty out there,” Bridget teased.