Perfect for the Beach (6 page)

And he wouldn’t make any more boneheaded moves.

Chapter Four

Awareness slowly seeped in on Nora. She felt euphoric. Weak and elated and …
satisfied.
Every sense was magnified. She was intensely aware of the cool air on her skin, the rumpled sheets beneath her, the incredible man making a dent in her mattress.

She smiled, so secretly pleased that she had to fight not to laugh out loud. Wow. No wonder everyone did this with such great regularity.

She felt that, at this particular moment in time, new doors had just opened for her. The whole world looked different. She’d never been the type to sleep around, to take a lover. But Cary had just changed all that, and she was so glad.

She turned her head to see him, but without her glasses, he was no more than a blur. As if he’d read her mind, he rolled to his back, did some reaching, and then her glasses were slipped onto her nose. She straightened them and took in his expression, anxious to see if he’d been as affected as she was by the sex.

His warm, mellow gaze filled with tenderness.

Relieved, Nora whispered, “Thank you.”

He looked at her mouth.

“For the glasses, and the …the …”

“Orgasm?” The right side of his mouth kicked up. “Now that was my pleasure.”

She matched his grin. “And mine.” She pondered how to tell him that she wanted more, that she wanted to do it again, maybe not right this moment, but soon. She put a hand on his chest. “Cary,” she said hesitantly.

And he blurted, “Marry me.”

Her gaze snapped up and locked onto his. He looked more surprised than she felt. In fact, he appeared floored that those words had come from his mouth. Or had they? “What did you say?”

He actually flushed. Then he scowled. “You heard me.”

“I’m not sure I did.”

His shoulders bunched. He seemed annoyed with himself, and she could imagine why. Oh God, she’d burdened him with all her leftover dreams for marriage and children, and now he felt obligated.

“I asked if you’d marry me.”

Actually, he’d just sort of demanded it, and in fact he still seemed rather combative about the offering. “Cary, you don’t need to do that.”

His frown sharpened, as did his annoyance. “That?”

“Propose. I mean, I was just thinking that I like it like

this.” “This?”

Worse and worse. He’d barely squeezed that word out between his teeth. “Yes, with us as … lovers. No commitment, no responsibility.” She stroked his chest. “Just pleasure.”

“You said you wanted marriage,” he accused, and his cheekbones were red, his green eyes incandescent with anger.

“Yes, I know, but … not with you.”

He bolted upright in the bed. “Not. With. Me?”

Nora wanted to pull out her own tongue. How insulting that had sounded! “What I mean is—”

A distant ringing sounded and they both paused, alert. Working in the medical field, a phone was never ignored.

Cary cursed luridly. “Goddammit, that’s my cell phone. I left it on your patio.” Buck naked, he clambered out of her bed, out of her bedroom, and quite possibly right out of her life.

Dolt. Idiot. How could she have said such a ridiculous, mean, nasty thing to him? She knew what she meant—that she was happy having him any way she could. That making love with him was a worthwhile trade-off for marriage. That she loved him enough, she’d take what he was comfortable offering—which plainly wasn’t marriage.

Stewing in bed wouldn’t do her one bit of good. What if he left without even telling her good-bye? That galvanized her into action and Nora was out of the bed in a flash. She was stepping into panties when Cary stomped back in.

He drew up short at the sight of her, with her underwear around her knees, her upper body still bare. His gaze darted here and there, lingering on her breasts and belly.

He was fully dressed, darn it. Well, except for his boxers, which were wadded up and wet on her floor. Drawn back to her senses, Nora tugged her panties up the rest of the way and crossed her arms over her breasts.

As if that broke the spell, Cary gave up his scrutiny of her body. He didn’t look at her face. He stayed busy tucking in his shirt, buckling his belt. “I have to go,” he said in one of the flattest tones she’d ever heard from him. “One of my patients is having trouble breathing. Probably bronchitis from the sounds of it. But she’s older and afraid of most doctors, so I’m going to meet her and her son at the emergency room.”

He was such a remarkable, caring man and all she could do was stand there in nothing more than panties, wracking her brain for something to say. “Cary …”

He shot her a quick, insincere smile. “We can talk later. Duty calls.” He hesitated, then took one long step toward her, put a perfunctory peck on her forehead, and rushed from the room.

Nora sank to the edge of the bed. It was badly mussed, the pillows off on the floor, the sheets trailing over the side. The scent of their lovemaking still lingered in the air, and stupidly, tears prickled her eyes. She was a complete and inexcusable social hazard.

He hadn’t promised to call, but he had said they’d talk. Later. Whatever that might mean. She pinned all her hopes on it because if he called, then she could explain.

With nothing left to do, Nora dragged herself into the shower. She still felt weak in the knees, and places she’d barely paid attention to before were now achy.

By eleven o’clock that night, she gave up staring at a silent phone and tried to sleep, but she couldn’t put Cary from her mind. She missed him already. She wanted him again. It was almost dawn before she got any rest.

The weekend continued in a heat wave, frazzling her nerves, making her listless. Liza called and wanted to go shopping, but Nora turned her down. She was afraid to leave for fear she’d miss his call. Like a lovesick teenager, she carried the phone with her everywhere, out to the pool, while doing yard work. By Sunday morning, when Cary still hadn’t called, she got angry.

How did a man make love to a woman and then just walk away? But she knew it happened all the time, which was one of the reasons she’d avoided affairs. Sex was just sex and these days didn’t necessarily imply more.

But this time … She covered her face with her hands. He’d asked her to marry him and she’d shot him down. What if that was the only reason he didn’t call?

When the phone rang, her heart almost stopped. She stood there through four rings, immobilized by hope before ungluing her feet and racing to snatch it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Liza. I’m bored. If you don’t want to shop, let’s do lunch.”

Disappointment staggered Nora. “Oh, it’s you.”

Feigning insult, Liza said, “Gee thanks.”

Nora thumped her hand against her forehead. Now she was insulting her friend, too! “I’m sorry. I really am. And yeah, sure, lunch sounds great.” She desperately needed a distraction.

“So much enthusiasm.” Liza laughed. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you tell me who you were hoping to hear from?”

Why not? Maybe Liza could give her some advice. “A hound dog.”

“Do tell! A sexy, doctor-type hound dog? Catch me up on what I’ve missed.”

Nora strode to the couch, collapsed onto it, and in practically one breath rattled off her tale of woe.

To her surprise, Liza cackled like a crazed hen.

Bemused by that reaction, Nora explained, “It’s really not a humorous story.”

“Oh, honey, of course it is. Women don’t wait around for men to call anymore. They pick up a phone and do the deed themselves.”

The mere thought had Nora wincing. “Oh no. I couldn’t.”

“Not even to apologize—which you owe him, by the way? If he doesn’t want to hear it, or it seems he doesn’t care, then you have your answer. It’s better than stewing, isn’t it?”

Stewing and moping and wallowing in her misery … “I suppose.” And then, reluctantly, “Maybe after you and I finish lunch—”

“No way. Forget that. I say call him now. Or better yet, just drop in on him. And don’t say you can’t, because he dropped in on you, right? Turnabout is fair play.”

Nora sank lower on the couch. “You really think it’d be all right to do that?”

“I’m betting he’ll be thrilled to see you. But hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Nora wished she had Liza’s confidence. She drew a long breath for courage, and said, “All right, I’ll do it.”

“That’a girl. And one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“You damn sure better call me later tonight and tell me all the nitty-gritty details!”

“I promise.” For the first time since she’d misspoken to Cary, Nora was smiling. She glanced at the clock. It was nearing noon and she hadn’t bothered to do more than dress, but now she felt like a woman with a mission. She headed to the bathroom for a cool shower, a touch of makeup, and a dab of perfume.

Within half an hour, she’d donned one of her prettiest sundresses, had her hair and makeup just right, and was on her way to Cary’s. He wasn’t far from her home, something she considered fortunate given her nervousness. Given any time to reconsider, she was likely to turn back around.

Unlike her, Cary had chosen a condo over a house. She parked in his private drive, and before she could chicken out, she trotted up the walkway and rang his doorbell.

No one answered.

With a feeling of déjà vu, she cautiously, hopefully made her way around back. His was a corner condo, secluded by thick hedges on one side and a privacy fence on the other. There was no pool in his small patch of backyard, but maybe he was grilling. Or just sunning himself.

Nora was several feet away when she recognized Cary’s voice barking, “I don’t want her, Axel, so shut the hell up.”

Nora staggered to a halt while her heart sank into her feet. He didn’t want her?

Another voice, not Axel’s or Cary’s, said calmly, “Keep your voice down. And Axel, leave him alone. Can’t you see he’s suffering?”

“I am not suffering,” Cary growled.

“You’re lovesick,” that other voice insisted, “but too stubborn to admit it.”

“Exactly,” Axel said. “But Patti could cure you of that if you’d just give her a chance. If she’s anything like her friend, and I think she is, she’ll have you moaning with pleasure instead of sorrow. Guaranteed.”

Cary said, “Booker, I’m going to break his teeth, I swear, if he mentions Patti again.”

Patti? Who the heck was Patti?

“Well, what the hell do you want me to do?” Axel suddenly demanded. “I told you not to screw with my office dynamics. I told you Nora wasn’t your type. But do you ever listen to me? No. You even go and propose to her, damn it.”

“It was a bonehead move, I admit,” Cary said. And then he murmured, more to himself than anyone else, “And I’d promised myself I wasn’t going to make any more bonehead moves.”

“So now you’re sitting here looking like a wolf who got caught in a trap and had to chew his own foot off.”

There was a startled moment of silence after that awesomely descriptive analogy, then Booker laughed. “He’s not like a self-maimed wolf at all. He’s just in love.”

In love? With her? Nora hoped so.

“Jesus,” Cary complained, “you’re both like old women. Can’t a man have some peace?”

Booker said, “Not when he’s in love.”

“I’m going to call her,” Axel stated. “I’ll ask her just what the hell is wrong with you—no, Cary, I mean it. I can straighten this out—no, let go.”

Nora heard a scuffle, a couple of dull thuds, and she hurried around the privacy fence. Axel, shirtless and in shorts, was on his back, gripping a cell phone for dear life while Cary, in shorts and a T-shirt, had him in a head-lock, choking him and struggling to pry the phone loose.

Beside them, arms crossed and smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world, was the man she assumed to be Booker. Nora had never met him, only knew his name because she’d just heard it, but he looked a lot like Axel.

He noticed her and raised a brow. “Can I help you?”

Both Cary and Axel paused in their physical debate to swivel their heads toward her.