Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson
F
OR THE FIRST FEW DAYS
after Andi said goodbye to Chance at the airport, she invited friends to the movies until her friends grew weary of the routine and she’d seen every comedy playing at least twice. If a comedian, was booked on The Strip, she was there, no matter the cost of the ticket. Then she recorded all the “I Love Lucy” episodes she could find in the television guide so she’d have something to watch when she couldn’t sleep.
Sometimes her raucous laughter threatened to turn into tears, and then she’d put on loud rock music until the feeling passed or the neighbors pounded on the walls of her apartment. She beat back her tears with Dave Barry columns, “Beavis and Butthead” and David Letterman.
By God, Chance would not make her cry.
She talked to Nicole often and downplayed the significance of the time she’d spent alone with Chance. Nicole said she’d barely seen Chance since he’d come back. He seemed to have lost himself in his work. So he wasn’t pining away for her, Andi thought. But the satisfaction of knowing she’d made the right decision didn’t help as much as she’d hoped it would.
Andi’s parents spent two weeks in Chicago soon after Nicole and the baby arrived home, so Andi decided to save her week with Nicole for Chandi’s first Christmas. Besides, the longer she put off seeing Chance at some family function, the better.
As the weeks went by, she realized there weren’t
enough comedies in the world to keep her mind off Chance. His idea of arranging yoga classes for computer operators in large businesses rustled around in her head until, desperate for the distraction, she finally called a couple of Las Vegas’s bigger corporations. The response was encouraging. Before she quite realized what was happening, she’d set up a schedule that kept her going five days a week and caused her to cancel the small classes she had been teaching for a local yoga school. She was forced to print up her own business cards. The irony of it didn’t escape her.
She was so busy, in fact, that she rarely stayed home. Looking forward to a quiet Friday night for the first time in weeks, she’d even decided against stopping by the video store on her way home, which had been her recent pattern whenever she anticipated being alone for the weekend.
Juggling her mail from the box in the hall downstairs and an order of Chinese takeout, she opened the door and promptly threw everything up in the air. Fried rice, almond chicken and advertising circulars rained down as she stared in disbelief at the man sitting in her living room, a duffel bag beside him on the couch.
Chance stood and came toward her. He was dressed casually in a T-shirt and jeans. Weekend wear.
He glanced at the food scattered over the carpet. “It’s not exactly fudge sauce, but I guess we can work with it.”
She backed away from him. “Oh, no, you don’t! You’re not showing up now. I didn’t even have to rent videos tonight! I suppose that means nothing to you, but—”
“You’re right, it means absolutely nothing to me.” He stared blankly at her. “What videos?”
“Never mind. The point is, they’re not here.”
“Good.” He came closer. “I don’t want to watch videos, anyway.”
“I know what you want to do, and we’re not doing it” Her heart was pounding so loud she could barely hear herself speak. “No, sir. I’m aware that Las Vegas is an airline hub.”
“Andi, this is a strange conversation.”
“It makes perfect sense to me! You may think you can drop by whenever you’re in the neighborhood and stop over for a quickie, but that’s not how it works, Mister Sex-on-Your-Mind. I may be easy, but I’m not consistently easy.”
He grinned. “Couldn’t prove it by me. Your apartment key is floating all over the place.” He dangled a key he pulled from his pocket.
Oh, that smile. It melted something she’d been trying to freeze for weeks. But she was fighting for her sanity, and she took a deep breath and plunged on. “That’s another thing! What do you mean, barging in here uninvited… what do you mean, my key’s floating everywhere?”
“A few weeks ago, I went to see Bowie and Nicole when your folks were in town, and I asked if anybody could loan me a key to your apartment. They all had keys.”
“Well, of course they did. They’re family.” She held out her hand. “But you don’t get one. Give it here.”
“I’m family.”
“Only in a very general way.”
He took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. “I’m here to make it more specific.”
She jerked her hand away. That touch set her on fire. She couldn’t allow it. “I’ll just bet. The key, Jefferson. You are not invited for the weekend, if that’s what you
had in mind. I see you even brought luggage. I made our terms very clear and you’re violating our agreement.”
He seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face. “I want to negotiate new terms.”
“I should have known. You probably want another little valve job, right? Sorry, but the warranty has expired. You men are so predictable.”
“Okay, let’s start with this. I love you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, like nobody’s ever tried
that
line to get what they want from their little hotsie-totsie.”
“Then let’s try this, Miss Hotsie-Totsie. Will you marry me?”
“I suppose next you’ll—” She stared at him. “What did you say?”
“Marry me, Andi. Please. I’m going out of my mind.”
All the fight went out of her. “Oh, Chance. You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I think I do. I’m reasonably bright—I took phonics in school, and the sentence only has four words in it. Will…you…marry…me?”
She gazed at him as she struggled with her answer. She’d missed him horribly in the past few weeks. How she longed to fling herself into his arms and agree to anything he wanted. But what would they do to each other, living under the pressure of his frantic life? She’d go into the marriage knowing she wanted to change him, and that wasn’t fair.
Taking a deep breath, she looked him right in the eye. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I love you.”
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere.” He closed the distance between them, fried rice mashing under the soles of his running shoes, and pulled her into his arms.
“Chance, don’t.” She tried to push him away, but not very hard. A girl had only so much willpower. “Getting physically involved again will only make us more miserable, in the long run.”
“Not if we get married.” He ducked his head and tried to kiss her.
She twisted away. “I just told you—”
“That you won’t marry me because you love me.” He captured her chin and made her look at him. “Have I got that straight?”
She was drowning in his blue, blue eyes. “I know it sounds backward, but it’s true.”
“It sounds fine to me. I’m becoming an expert in Andithink. All I had to know was that you love me. The rest is details.”
“The rest is the whole point!”
“No.” He combed his fingers through her hair and cradled her head in his hand. “I used to think so, too. I thought the obstacle was my job, but finally it occurred to me that the only real obstacle was whether or not you loved me—whether I was the kind of guy who could coax you into giving up your freedom.”
“Of course you are, but
you
aren’t free, Chance.”
He smiled. “Oh, yes, I am.”
She looked into his eyes and saw something she’d never seen there before—a gleam of sheer exuberance. “Okay, what have you done?”
“Taken back my life. Come share it with me.”
“You quit?” Her pulse raced. “Because of me?”
“No. I had to do this for myself. I might have come here tonight and discovered you didn’t love me, after all. Those days on the houseboat might have been just a fling for you.”
“Oh, no.” A joyous song was wending its way through her heart, building in volume the longer she gazed into
his eyes. She’d probably still have to live in the big-city atmosphere of Chicago, but that was a small compromise. “It was never just a fling. You have no idea how miserable I’ve been since you left.”
He sighed. “Good.”
“Good?” She pushed at his chest. “That’s not nice, hoping I’ve been miserable. I was hoping you were doing just fine.”
“Liar.” He glanced down at the spot where she’d pushed him, released her and walked back to the duffel bag sitting on the couch.
“Chance?” Oh, God, she’d offended him. “I didn’t really mean to shove you away. I was kidding. You know me. Always joking around.”
“Don’t worry.” He shot her a rakish smile. “You won’t get rid of me that easy.” He zipped open his duffel and pulled out another T-shirt. “When you pushed at my chest, I suddenly remembered your present.” He tossed the shirt at her. “It may not look like much now, but once you put it on and wet it down, I’m sure it’ll be outstanding.”
She held up the T-shirt and realized it was identical to his. She’d been too preoccupied to pay attention to what was printed on the front. Now she looked more closely, and glanced up at him.
“Bowie and Chance’s Bait and Tackle?”
He looked so proud of himself he almost preened. “Yeah. We’re partners. It was his idea to try this, and after all that you said finally sunk into my stubborn brain, I realized his solution was brilliant.”
“Is it connected to Jefferson Sporting Goods?”
“Nope. Mom may insist we get a discount on merchandise, but it’s an independent operation.”
“Your mother?” Andi felt as if her brain was shorting out from the overload of information.
“She’s running Jefferson Sporting Goods now. Remember when I said nobody would handle things if I didn’t, and you warned me not to be so sure?”
“I remember.”
“Well, when Bowie and I left for a week, she started dropping by the office, just to check on things. Turns out she loves the business and always had a secret desire to be in charge. I never knew. She’s learning all the ropes and becoming really great at it.”
“Amazing.”
“So.” He focused on her, his gaze like a laser. “Do you really like the shirt?”
“I really do.”
“Do you like it a lot?” he prompted.
“Well, sure.” She held it out in front of her. “The crossed fishing poles make a good logo, and you have Bowie’s name first, which was generous.” She studied the shirt, looking for more things to praise. That was when she saw the small lettering beneath the logo.
Lake Mead, Nevada.
Her glance came up to lock with his, and she couldn’t keep the grin from her face. “Here?”
“It’s where Bowie’s lure works.” He crossed the room. “And if you’d been stubborn about marrying me, I’d planned to move in next door and lay siege.”
“Oh, Chance!” She flung herself into his arms. “You can start anytime.”
He caught her and held on tight. “Start what?”
“Laying siege.”
“But you’ve already said yes.”
She gave him a hot, wet and very suggestive kiss. “No, I haven’t. I just admitted to loving you. You’re gonna have to work to win my hand, Chance Jefferson. You’re gonna have to lay seige, just like you said. And I can hardly wait.”
eISBN: 978-14592-7439-6
GOING OVERBOARD
Copyright © 1997 by Vicki Lewis Thompson
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