Forever Fall (6 page)

How many times had Luc heard this same argument? And how did he convince them that Jeb would never get the scholarship unless he maintained a 2.5 GPA, and that he had a better chance at a decent job with high grades than he did with his prowess on the football field?

“Harry, I can see your point. I want what’s best for Jeb as much as you do. I also know that Jeb’s a bright kid, and I know how good he is on the football field. However, he’ll still have to keep his grades up to get the sports scholarship.” Luc sighed. “He’s going into his senior year, so this is no time to slack off on his studies.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the desk. “What if he doesn’t get the scholarship?”

Harry Tanner’s face paled, and his expression turned to one of sheer panic. “But, Asa said—”

“The final decision rests with UCLA, not Asa Watkins.” Luc stood, walked around the desk, and then sat on the corner. “Harry, what I’m trying to tell you is don’t let Jeb put all his eggs in one basket. Even if he keeps his grades up, there are no guarantees that he’ll get the scholarship. He’s just one of hundreds vying for it.”

Linda Tanner laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “Harry, I think we should listen to Mr. Michaels.”

Tanner shook off her hand. “Are you saying my boy’s not good enough to win that scholarship?”

Luc shook his head. “Of course not. Jeb’s a fine athlete. He’s also a good student, when he applies himself. I just think we need to prepare for all eventualities.”

Harry Tanner abruptly stood and took his wife’s arm, then steered her toward the door. “He’ll win it, Michaels. He’ll win it if I have to make him practice throwing that ball twenty-four hours a day until next fall when that scout comes back. He
will
win it.” He shoved his wife through the door and slammed it hard enough to make the glass in the window behind Luc rattle.

Luc sighed. He hoped for Jeb’s sake that his father was right.

When she left work
a few days later, Mandy felt quite pleased with herself. She’d worked over the weekend to clear her desk of any pressing business so she could start Catherine’s test the next morning. Becky had already initiated the search for Catherine’s daughter, and a case Mandy had been working on for weeks had finally seen a happy ending. A foster child had found a permanent home with a family that loved her and wanted her enough to have started adoption proceedings.

Tired, but satisfied, Mandy turned her car down Main Street, heading for the small apartment she’d rented north of town when she had first arrived in Carson. It wasn’t much, but she’d decorated it with plants and mementoes that had put her personal stamp on it and quickly transformed the two rooms into a cozy home.

As she drove down the tree-lined streets, she took in the small town that she’d come to love. Stores huddled against each other in a neat row, all painted beige, gray, federal blue, white or tan, colors that the town fathers had designated acceptable. Lining the sidewalks at intervals stood large barrels filled with bright yellow chrysanthemums with green and white vinca cascading over the edges, the fall replacements for the colorful petunias that had grown there all summer. The same fall flowers had been planted in the town square. Dark green and white striped awnings were rolled up to allow the admittance of the late afternoon sun. The few cars, parked diagonally along the curbs, confirmed that most of the town’s people were at home enjoying dinner with their families.

Mandy experienced a rush of regret that she wasn’t in one of those homes. A flashback intervened of dinner when she’d been growing up. She would have been sitting alone at the table, eating something from a can off a paper plate, while her mother finished the last of her daily bottle of gin.

When the bottle was empty, Connie James would have begun yelling at her small daughter. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have had a good life. Money, friends, a good education, a husband who would care for me, love me and bring home a paycheck.”

The words would have been slurred, and soon after, her mother would have fallen into a drunken stupor, leaving Mandy to help her to bed where Connie would remain until the next morning when the whole scenario would begin all over again.

Determinedly, Mandy shook off the memories and concentrated on the beauty of the little town of Carson that surrounded her. About half way down Main Street, she noticed a man walking along the deserted street with his jacket slung over one shoulder.

Even from the back, she recognized him. Luc Michaels. Her heart sped up. Her reaction filled her with apprehension. If simply seeing him walking down the street had that effect on her, what was it going to be like sharing a house with him for two weeks?

As if her heart had turned a deaf ear to her concerns, and before she knew what was happening, she pulled her car to the curb and hit the button to open the automatic window on the passenger’s side. The smell of burning leaves and crisp fall air rushed into the car’s interior.

“Need a lift?” Was that her voice inviting him into her car? Into these close confines, to sit on the seat next to her, their legs barely inches away? Had she lost her mind?

Luc leaned down and smiled. “I’d love one, thanks.” He opened the door and slid in, then slammed it closed and looked at her. “I was thinking the walk home would be refreshing, but I’m afraid my long day is getting to me.”

Mandy glanced down at his white shirt front. Moisture had plastered it to his chest. He must not have been wearing anything under it. She could see the swirls of dark chest hair through the material.

Dragging her gaze away, she stared straight ahead, trying to eject the image of Luc without the shirt from her mind and make room for concentration on the road ahead. What had gotten into her? Sex was not something that normally preoccupied her thoughts around men. Why now? And why him of all people?

Whatever the reason, she had to put a stop to it now, while she could. In a few days she’d be living with this man, and lapsing into these sexual fantasies every time they got within sight of each other could get downright dangerous.

Clasping the steering wheel in a death grip, she eased the car away from the curb. “Where’s your car?” she asked, pleased to find her vocal chords working better than her common sense.

“The battery went dead. I had to use my lights when I came to work this morning, and since it’s an older model without all the fancy bells and whistles to call my attention to it, I guess I forgot to turn them off.” While he spoke to her, Luc kept his gaze trained on the passing scenery. “Of course, since I know little or nothing about what goes on under the hood of my car, it could be anything.”

“You had to use your lights?” That meant he had come to work before her alarm had even gone off.

He turned to her, his dark brown eyes leaving her breathless. “I wanted to get an early start. There’s a lot to be done before we adjourn our lives to Catherine’s lake house.” He stared at her for a moment and then quickly looked away. “Besides, it’s easier to work when there are no kids running in and out, and my secretary isn’t routing phone calls through my office.”

In complete agreement, Mandy nodded. “I admire anyone who can get up early. I hate mornings.” She laughed. “I’m told I’m not the most amiable person until I’ve had my coffee. Ever see that T-shirt that says I don’t do mornings?” Luc nodded. “That was designed with me in mind.”

She glanced at her passenger. Luc’s gaze held hers for only an instant, but it spoke volumes. It told her that he was as aware as she was of the attraction between them.

Rats! How am I going to put up a fight, if he isn’t going to resist?

Luc was trying his best to resist the woman behind the wheel, but he seemed to have lost control of his own movements. His mind was flooded with images of Mandy, hair tousled from sleep, her eyes still holding remnants of her dreams, her lips pink and inviting, her—

Wow! He blinked to dispel the images. Then his gaze went to her hands gripping the steering wheel. He studied her long, graceful fingers topped by nails kept serviceably short and coated with clear nail polish. He imagined those nails digging into his flesh in the throes of passion.

Tearing his gaze from her hands, he let it settle on the auburn hair falling over her bare shoulders in soft waves. Again his imagination betrayed him and gave him a sampling of how those tresses would feel falling over his body.

Once more, he snatched his gaze away, searching for somewhere safe to allow it to settle. As if magnetized, it went to her long, tanned legs. Before his imagination could kick in again, he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Are you going to sleep, or are you going to tell me where you live?”

Without opening his eyes, Luc replied, “27 North Elm Street.” He cracked his eyes open a sliver. “Turn right at the next stop sign, then left.”

Moments later, the car glided to a stop. He opened his eyes.

“Home sweet home,” Mandy said.

Was she being sarcastic? He glanced at her and found her staring raptly at the house. Her gaze echoed his own feelings every time he came home.

The white, Cape Cod structure brought a rush of warmth and security to him. Aside from his job, this house was the most important thing in Luc’s life. To Luc, everything about it, the variegated chrysanthemums he’d planted last week beneath the boxwood hedges, the white picket fence, the verdant lawn, even the swing on the front porch, symbolized a stable existence. Most of all it was home—a real home, the place one returned to day after day, year after year.

Nothing is forever
, came his father’s reminder.

“It’s
 . . .
lovely,” she whispered, interrupting his thoughts. “So welcoming and homey.” She shifted her gaze to him. “You must love it here.”

“Very much.”

Her gaze went back to the house and filled with a sad longing. He knew that look and the desperate loneliness it embodied. “It’s the only real home I’ve ever known.” Now, why had he told her that?

“Really?” Then she dipped her head, hiding the pink he’d noted rising in her cheeks behind the cascade of her hair. “That’s right. You said you were raised in military schools.” She raised her head, then tossed her long hair over her shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I am truly sorry about the abstinence crack the other night.”

Knowing that truce between them would make the next two weeks easier all around, he smiled. “Apology accepted. I’m afraid I should also apologize. I baited you and deserved your anger.”

Her brow furrowed. “Baited me? How?”

“I thought that if I could make you uneasy, you might slip up and blow your presentation.” He gazed out the windshield, thinking about how in control she’d been, except for that one mistake. “Actually, I was very impressed with your thorough knowledge of your subject matter. You had all your bases more than covered.”

“I know you don’t approve of it, but this project means a lot to me.”

He recalled thinking at the meeting that that there was more to this project than just saving the town’s teens from unwanted pregnancy. The same feeling washed over him now. He turned to face her. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why is this project so important to you? It’s commendable that you want to help the kids in Carson, but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

She looked away, but not before he saw the flash of pain across her features. Had she been one of the pregnant teen statistics? He glanced at her trim figure. She didn’t have the fullness that a woman retained after carrying a child. Having been blamed repeatedly for his mother’s less than sultry figure, he knew all about the effects of pregnancy on a woman’s body. So, why then was Mandy James so devoted to this?

“It’s a very long story, and I’m sure you’re as anxious to relax and get out of your work clothes as I am. Maybe I’ll tell you some other time.”

Luc didn’t push. He had a whole two weeks to get Mandy to talk about herself. One hand on the door handle, the other clutching his jacket and briefcase, Luc turned to her. “Thanks
 . . .
for the ride and the apology.”