Authors: Barbara Freethy
Tags: #Guardian angels, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Unmarried mothers, #Adult, #General
His mouth touched hers, and one kiss turned into two, then three, long, never-ending, mindless moments of passion between two people who had been apart far too long. Her name rang through his head. Jenny. Jenny. Jenny. Her softness washed over him. Her warmth heated his body. He couldn't get enough of her.
Jenny broke away, her face flushed, her lips swollen. "No."
"It's right. Don't fight it. Don't fight us."
"I have to. I'm not a young girl anymore, Luke. I don't believe in fairy tales. And happy endings are beginning to look less and less possible. I've grown up. I've changed. I take responsibility for my actions."
"So do I, Jenny."
"Then you have to see we can't be together. You're with someone else."
"Right now -- at this moment -- I'm with you, completely, totally."
"Fine, forget about your wife, but I'm involved with Alan."
"Are you?" Luke tipped up her chin and smiled into her eyes. "Are you with him -- really with him?"
Jenny licked her lips. "No," she said, honest to the end. "But that's beside the point."
"If you're not with him, then he won't mind if I kiss you."
"Oh, he'll mind all right, and so will your wife."
"I'm going to do it anyway, unless you say no. Are you saying no?"
"No." And she lifted her face to his.
* * *
"Mush. I hate mush." Jacob walked along the railing of the Golden Gate Bridge like a trapeze artist.
"Would you move?" Danny said. "I'm trying to see my mom and dad." His eyes widened as the moonlight lit Jenny and Luke like two lovers caught in a spotlight on a dark stage. "Wow. They're really kissing."
Jacob jumped off the railing and put a hand over Danny's eyes. "That's enough for you, my boy. This is definitely not PG-13."
Danny tried to push Jacob's hands away from his face. "Come on, I want to see."
"No way. I'm protecting your morals."
"Tell me what's happening then."
"Use your imagination." Jacob sighed. "Those two are getting ahead of themselves. Looks like they need me right about now."
Danny pulled free of Jacob as the old man leaned over the railing of the bridge. "What are you doing?"
"Bringing 'em to their senses."
"No." Danny grabbed his arm. "I want them to kiss. I want them to get back together. This is cool."
"Well, I suppose." Jacob tilted his head in thought. "Nah." He leaned over and blew against the water of the bay as if it were a candle on a birthday cake. To Danny's amazement, Jacob's breath created an incredible wave that hit the side of the shore just below where his parents were standing, covering them with a spray of water.
Luke and Jenny broke apart, laughing as they wiped the water out of their eyes. After a moment, they turned and walked back the way they had come.
Jacob laughed with pure delight. "I love that trick. Works every time."
Danny folded his arms in front of his chest, scowling at the old man. Jacob looked a little shame-faced.
"It was a joke. Lighten up, kid."
"They were getting together, and you broke 'em up."
"They don't look broken up to me."
Jacob pointed at the couple. Luke and Jenny had stopped and were kissing again.
Danny smiled. "I knew they were still in love."
"Yeah, well, all this mush is making me nauseous," Jacob said. "Come on, I know a place where there's a little more action."
"Wait, something isn't right."
Jacob pulled his arm. Danny clung to the railing with his fingertips, reluctant to leave. Although he wanted to see his parents together, he suddenly realized they were together without him, and they didn't seem to care. "How come they're out here kissing when I'm lying in the hospital?" he asked.
Jacob sighed. "Boy, you aren't happy when they're together, and you're not happy when they're apart. What's it going to take, kid?"
"I want to be with them."
"I don't think they're missing you right about now."
"I guess not." Danny felt incredibly annoyed by that thought.
Jacob rested his arms on the railing of the bridge. "Ever play dominoes, kid?"
"Yeah."
"One action leads to another action. It's the same with life. You make decisions. Things happen. You have to play out your hand. Roll the dice. Go for broke on two outs, full count in the bottom of the ninth. Got it?"
Danny sighed. "You're saying all this is my fault."
"Your life is your fault, Danny boy. When are you going to start taking responsibility for it?"
"I don't have a life at the moment," Danny snapped back, irritated with Jacob and his mother and Luke. "I'm just a kid, you know. I don't know anything."
Jacob grinned at him. "Now that's the smartest thing I've heard you say. I think we're making progress. I might just get promoted after all."
Danny sent him a suspicious look. "What do you have to do to get promoted?"
"I have to right a wrong."
"What wrong?"
Jacob ignored his question. "Come on, we've got work to do."
Danny cast one last lingering look at his parents and then followed Jacob into the heavens.
* * *
Saturday morning, Jenny awoke to the sound of pounding on her front door. She looked at the clock on the bedside table and swore. It was seven o'clock in the morning, barely light. What the heck was going on?
She stumbled out of bed, drew her bright floral kimono robe around her T-shirt, and headed for the door. Throwing it open, she said, "This better be good."
"It is." Luke walked in, looking nothing like himself. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt and a faded pair of blue jeans that were actually ripped at the knee. Ripped? Jenny blinked her eyes shut. She must be dreaming.
"Are you ready to go?" Luke asked.
Jenny opened her eyes. He was still there, looking downright proud of himself. He was holding a child's bright orange bucket and a shovel in one hand.
"Go where?" she asked.
"Beachcombing. Seashells, jewelry, you remember," Luke said.
"What's with the bucket? Do you think my business is a game, Luke? A child's toy?" Irritation filled her voice. She was never at her best first thing in the morning, and his incredibly cheerful face made her feel downright angry.
"No. No. I saw it in the store," Luke said hastily. "I thought maybe I could talk you into building another sand castle with me."
"You're crazy. Like I have time to build sand castles. I have to make my bed, pick up the house, stop by the store, and buy some milk. And sometime today, I have to put together two necklaces, send in my registration for the Spring Art Fair, and spend at least eight hours with my son in the hospital." She ran out of steam and leaned against the wall.
"I'll help you, Jenny. We'll spend an hour at the beach so you can pick up your supplies, then we'll divide up your list of things to do."
"I can't just take off for the beach right now. I'm not dressed. I'm not ready."
"You used to be ready for anything."
"Well, I'm not anymore. Okay?" she snapped, running a hand through her tousled hair. "You should have called first. You can't just barge into my life and take over."
"That's what you did to me," Luke said. He stared at her for a long moment, his good humor slowly fading like the air out of a balloon. "I never knew what hit me. You swept me off my feet."
"I couldn't lift you off the ground."
"You did it with your smile, your passion for life. I took that away, didn't I? God, I wish I could give it back to you."
"You can't." Jenny tried to ignore the way he was looking at her. She pulled the sash tighter around her waist, suddenly very aware of her skimpy outfit and the rumpled bed just down the hall. He looked so good this morning, better than a cup of coffee, better than a hot bagel with cream cheese.
Food. She needed food and coffee. Then she could make her list and get organized. But first, she needed to wake up and deal with this man in a logical and rational manner. Logical and rational?
"Oh my God," she said out loud.
"What's wrong now?"
"I just realized -- I've turned into you."
Luke smiled. "I was thinking the same thing."
"I don't want to be you."
"I don't want to be me, either."
Jenny put a hand to her head, which was suddenly throbbing with the beginning of a very painful headache. "Luke, go home."
"Not a chance, sweetheart." His smile was back in full force. "We've both changed. That's true. Let's find out who we are now. We'll get your work done, I promise. Just give me an hour. You won't regret it."
"I hate when people say that." Jenny headed for the bedroom. "All right. I'll get dressed. Make me some coffee, okay?"
"Coffee? Uh, Jenny ..."
Jenny paused in the doorway. "What's wrong now?"
"I don't know how to make coffee. My secretary does it."
She started to laugh softly then with the sheer joy of feeling good again. Luke looked helplessly charming. God help her. "Then it's about time you learned," she said. "Beans are in the cupboard. Give it your best shot."
"What if I screw up?"
"Then you'll know how the rest of us feel ninety-nine percent of the time."
Chapter Twenty-Five
"I messed up," Richard said as he faced Merrilee across the kitchen counter.
"Merrilee wiped down the counter with a sponge. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him to see her red, blotchy eyes, didn't want him to know how badly he had hurt her. He hadn't come home last night, for which she had been supremely grateful, but it was now almost seven o'clock on Saturday evening, and she had spent the last eight hours waiting on pins and needles for his arrival.
She knew they would have to talk, make decisions about their marriage. She just didn't know if she was ready.
"Merrilee."
Reluctantly, she turned to look at him. His face was haggard. There was fear in his eyes and that gave her hope.
After a moment, she walked over to the kitchen table and sat down. Richard silently followed.
They sat there like two strangers for almost five minutes. Finally, Richard spoke. "It's not an excuse, but I was lonely, Merrilee. You don't seem to need me in your life."
"What do you mean? Everything I do is for you and the children. I cook your meals. I take care of your house. I hem your goddamned pants. I sew your buttons on, even when sluts like that Blair probably tear them off."
"But you don't love me," Richard said simply. "You used to. I don't know when things changed. One day I realized it had been a month since we'd made love. The next time I looked at the calendar it had been three months, then four. You're so damned independent, you don't need me for anything, not even sex."
"This is not my fault. Don't try to pin it on me."
Merrilee started to rise, but Richard pulled her back down. "We need to talk. We've needed to talk for months."
"You apparently needed more than talk."
"I'm sorry."
Merrilee sent him a look of amazement. "That's supposed to make it better?"
"Nothing can make it better. We're going nowhere, except further apart. I think I've been wanting you to find me like that for months. It seemed the more I rubbed it in your face, the more you denied it was happening. After a while, I figured if you didn't care, why should I?"
"I do care. I love you." Her voice filled with pain, and she knew he could hear it. "I've never loved anyone but you. From the day we met, I've been afraid I wouldn't be good enough. You were the life of the party, everybody's best friend. I was never that, and I couldn't imagine that you'd stay with me. After we had the children, I guess I wasn't as interested in sex as you were, then the longer it was in between, the more doubts I had that I was any good at it."
"Rather than risk being bad, you stopped altogether."
"You found your pleasure elsewhere, so what difference does it make?"
"A lot. I remember how we were that first year we fell in love, necking on your father's couch for hours. We couldn't get enough of each other. What happened to the girl I fell in love with?"
"She grew up, Richard." Merrilee sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. She didn't want to talk about the past, the way she had been as a young girl, the hopes and dreams she had carried in her heart. She had fallen in love with Richard when she was twenty years old. Richard was the one she had clung to when her mother died, just a year after their first meeting.
Now she could barely remember why they had gotten together. He was nothing like that young man, and she was nothing like that young girl.
"You didn't grow up, you grew hard," Richard said. "After your mother died, you became more concerned with controlling everyone's life than just loving them."