Mountain Laurel (12 page)

"You're blushing!" Ginny exclaimed. "Don't be embarrassed. I didn't see anything." She wrinkled her nose impishly. "But didn't you tell me that you were too old to make out?"

"Go away!" Laurel bellowed. She needed time to think. "Go make a pot of coffee or something. I need to take a shower." She threw back the covers, forcing Ginny to jump off the bed.

"But I wanted you to tell me all about your date!"

"Later, Ginny, later. After I've dressed and had a cup of coffee."

"You'll tell me everything?"

"Yes, absolutely everything. But later!"

"Okay, okay!" Ginny left the room mumbling. "What a crab."

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Laurel rubbed her hands lightly over her face. Why hadn't Michael awakened her when they first arrived at the cabin? It was a question she couldn't begin to answer. Then, a slow warmth gathered inside her as she imagined Michael holding her, watching her as she slept.

Pulling her fingers through her tousled hair, she heaved a sigh. Really, what must he think of her? Grabbing her robe, she stuffed her arms into it. Ginny wanted to know everything about her "date." Laurel shook her head. And that meant more fabrications! She couldn't possibly tell her the truth.

As she padded toward the bathroom, she whispered, "Boy, this is not going to be easy."

Laurel sat at the kitchen table cradling a mug of coffee between her hands. She'd showered and dressed in a cheery yellow sweater and matching print skirt that was at odds with her mood. While she was showering, she'd thought about what she should tell Ginny. Keeping it simple, she'd decided, would be the only way to handle it. The last thing she wanted was to find herself hopelessly lost in a twisted maze of lies that would probably snap the thin thread of respect Ginny had for her.

"Okay, so tell me. Tell me!" Ginny could hardly contain her excited curiosity.

"There's really not all that much to tell. I went to Michael's, I had a good time, and he brought me home."

"Well, that's a bit skimpy on the details." Ginny's eyes were wide with exasperation as she watched Laurel sip her coffee. "Okay, I can see we'll have to take this slow. Let's focus on the 'good time' part. Tell me about your good time."

"Ginny!" Laurel laughed nervously. "I had a good time, that's all!"

"You said he was going to cook for you. What'd he make?"

Laurel picked up the teaspoon that was lying on the table, studying its flowery pattern intently.

"I'll bet he broiled steaks," Ginny said.

"Um, yeah, steaks," Laurel lied, her eyes not leaving the spoon in her hand.

"Men always do steaks! They have no imagination." Ginny rolled her eyes heavenward. "I'll bet he made a salad, too?"

"You've got it," Laurel said lightly. "Steaks and a salad."

"Anything else?"

"Oh, uh, a sauce for the steaks. He made mushroom sauce for the steaks."

"Candles?"

"Uh-huh." Laurel nodded.

"Wow! Sounds romantic," Ginny exclaimed. "How about dessert?"

She couldn't carry it on anymore, Laurel thought. "No," she said. "No dessert."

"Ooo..." Ginny's eyebrows wiggled expressively. "More time for kissing, huh?"

"That's none of your business." The spoon slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the tabletop.

"Touchy, aren't we?"

"Not touchy." Laurel shrugged. "I told you, I had a good time. That's all."

"Am I allowed to ask if you're seeing him again?"

"Yes, you're allowed to ask. And no, I don't think I'll be seeing Michael again." Laurel pushed away the tiny twist of regret that curled in her stomach. Michael couldn't possibly want to see her again, and she couldn't bring herself to lie to Ginny about another date. "You did say there were lots of fish in the sea. I thought I'd throw in my line and catch another one."

"Good grief!" Ginny laughed. "I've created a monster!"

Laurel was trying to think of some smug rejoinder when a knock at the front door made Ginny jump up from her chair.

"That's probably Sharon. We're going shopping this morning."

Laurel set her empty mug on the counter, too despondent to wash up the few dishes that were there. She couldn't believe she'd gotten through Ginny's inquisition without hanging herself.

I'll never, ever, lie again
, she silently promised.

"Laurel, it's for you!" Ginny sang out the words.

Laurel stiffened, knowing, even before Ginny finished her last, drawn-out note that it was Michael at the door. Glancing heavenward, she mumbled a quick prayer.

"Lord, you really don't have to teach me a lesson. I just promised never to lie again."

She left the kitchen expecting to be caught in her own deceitful web but found herself immediately enveloped in a warm, tight bear hug. Michael's freshly shaved cheek was smooth against her own and his earthy cologne seemed as familiar to her as his touch. Caught off guard, she simply stood there, limp as a wet noodle. His quick, firm kiss shocked her even further and she stared at him, silent questions written all over her face, she was certain.

"Good morning," he whispered, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Morning," she croaked.

"I'm glad you're up and about. I came to take you girls out to breakfast."

"Oh." Laurel's throat was so dry she could hardly speak.

"Darn," Ginny said, snapping her fingers smartly. "Doesn't look like we'll be going fishing today, sis."

"You two going fishing?" Michael asked. "I didn't know you already had plans."

Laurel glared at her sister's innocent expression. "We do not have plans," she said.

"I do," Ginny said sweetly. "I'm going shopping, remember? You couldn't have forgotten that fast, Laurel. I just told you thirty seconds ago."

"Oh." Laurel cleared her throat.

"But you'll come?" Michael asked, catching hold of Laurel's hand.

"Sure," she replied, still not sure what he was up to. Her voice was tight with apprehension as she added, "I'd like that."

"Michael." Ginny's voice made them both turn toward her. "Laurel tells me you're one terrific cook."

Michael frowned in confusion, and Laurel quickly squeezed his hand to get his attention.

"Yes," Laurel said, trying to cover her panic. "I told her about the dinner you fixed for me last night." She spoke the words deliberately, hoping he'd catch on. Gripping his hand tighter, she added, "The steak. And the salad."

Before Michael could speak, Ginny piped in, "And she said the mushroom sauce was delicious."

Michael raised one eyebrow, staring down at Laurel. "My mushroom sauce was delicious, huh?"

He stared at Laurel for the length of a heartbeat, then two.

Taking the sudden wicked glimmer in his dark gaze as acquiescence, Laurel was flooded with relief.

"Absolutely delicious," she said, trying hard not to laugh at his crooked grin. She was so glad his back was to Ginny.

"Listen, could we go now? I'm starved!" She had to get out of the house before she burst into hysterics at this farce.

"Anytime you're ready," Michael said. "Better bring a jacket. It's chilly."

"You two have a good time," Ginny said.

When Laurel stepped out of the bedroom with her jacket, Michael placed a guiding hand on the small of her back. "Get a move on, woman."

"See ya later," Ginny called.

As they walked toward his truck, Michael exclaimed, "Mushroom sauce? I hate mushrooms!"

"I had to think fast," she said, laughing. "I couldn't tell her what really happened, now, could I?" She got into the truck and slammed the door, narrowing her eyes at him. "What's this all about, anyway? I thought maybe you were up to something last night, but the last thing I expected to see this morning was you on my doorstep."

"Well, I got to thinking last night." He started the engine and pulled out of the drive. "If Ginny was driving you to drink—" even though he said the words jokingly, Laurel felt her cheeks flame "—then you definitely needed my help."

"Your help?"

"From everything you've told me, you're obviously not comfortable with this dating idea." He kept his eyes on the road. "So I've decided...if you're in agreement, of course, that maybe I could help you. We could go out, make Ginny think you're fooling around a little, and, like magic, all your problems will be solved."

She shifted in the seat and stared at him. "You'd do that?"

"Why not?" He shrugged. "We residents of Oakland are a friendly, accommodating bunch."

Michael glanced over to see her reaction and was relieved to see her smile. He had stayed up half the night trying to figure out the best solution to their problem. He couldn't quite put his finger on when Laurel's worries had become his own, but in the brief time he'd spent with her, she'd stirred something deep inside him, something that made her happiness important to him.

What she needed right now, he'd decided, was a friend, an ally, even if she didn't know it herself. And he felt an overwhelming urge to be that friend.

"What are you grinning about?" Laurel asked.

"Oh, I was just congratulating myself on what a sly guy I am."

"Oh, yeah?" she mocked. "I want to know what happened to that big lecture you gave me yesterday?"

"Lecture?"

"Yeah, the one about teaching Ginny responsibility, about her needing to appreciate me for who I am?"

"Well—"

"The one about not giving in to my little sister's every whim."

''But—''

"The one about not compromising my morals."

"Now, wait a minute!" He caught her hand in his and tugged at it, urging her closer to him. She slid along the seat until her shoulder was only inches from his. The warmth of his skin against hers heightened her senses.

"I said all of those things," he told her quietly, "before I realized exactly what it was we were up against. I mean, this thing is bigger than you and me. The way I figure it, we're going to have a long hard fight in front of us if we're going to beat this...this..."

"Teenager?" Laurel offered, laughter bubbling up inside her.

"Exactly!"

He rested their clasped hands on his muscled thigh. Laurel had to make a conscious effort to keep her breathing normal. She couldn't believe how rattled she was by his nearness.

Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly.
Calm down
, she chastened herself.
You should be on cloud nine! You don't have to go through this alone anymore. He's going to help you
.

Slowly, a fog of suspicion gathered in her head. Why was he doing this? What had made him decide to help her? What could he possibly gain? A stark answer formed in her brain: nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Her spine went straight as she contemplated what his reason must be. Pity. He felt sorry for her! She scowled. Well, she could take care of herself. She didn't need anyone's sympathy.

"Michael, thanks for the thought. But I don't want you to feel that you need to do this. I mean, Ginny's
my
sister. This is
my
problem. And I can handle it." She tried to slip her hand from his, but he tightened his hold.

"I never said that you couldn't," he said solemnly. He glanced over at her. "Listen, I want to do this because I know what you're going through. I went through the same thing with Jim. And here it is almost three years later and he's just now getting himself straightened out."

His gaze returned to the curving country road. "If we work together, maybe we can keep Ginny's adolescent turmoil to a minimum."

He gave her slim fingers a squeeze. "How about it? Are we in this together?"