Sparks Fly (8 page)

* * *

It only took Will five minutes to pack up his things, but Angelina swore it took an hour. He must know his effect on her. She was absolutely certain he was deliberately torturing her.

When he finally said, “Goodnight,” without turning to face her, then shut the door behind him, Angelina fell onto the bed gasping for air. She had been holding her breath while Will was in the bedroom with her. Within seconds, a bone deep exhaustion hit her, and she couldn't even muster up the energy to brush her teeth or take off her clothes.

She woke up at midnight, momentarily disoriented before she remembered where she was. In New York. At Will’s mother’s house.

His scent was all over the sheets and the pillowcase. It was self-torture laying there, breathing him in, having no choice but to relive the sweetness of his kisses.

She sat up in bed and brushed the hair away from her face. Maybe a walk in the brisk night air would help to clear her mind. Stripping off her horribly wrinkled clothes, she rummaged around in her luggage for a pair of jeans. She slipped them on along with a hooded sweatshirt.

A door from her room led out to the lake. She stepped out onto the deck and the moonlit view took her breath away.

She would never grow tired of the vision of still water at night with the moon’s reflection upon it. For a moment, she felt a deep sense of peace.

Angelina stepped onto the sand, which was cool and damp beneath her toes, ready to feel the water lapping against her legs. But when she heard a splash she stopped dead in her tracks, before moving to hide behind the thick tree trunk to her right.

What was Will doing out swimming in the middle of the night?

Afraid to even breathe for fear he might discover her spying, she remained standing behind the tree, gaping as he rose up out of the lake. Even though she could see that he was wearing swim trunks, he was still so physically beautiful just looking at him took her breath away.

When she inadvertently gasped, she clamped a hand over her mouth, praying he hadn’t heard her gasp.

No such luck. Will stopped his progression out of the water. “Is someone out there?”

Angelina forced herself not to act like a coward. Stepping around the tree trunk, she said, “I just came outside for some air. I’ll go back in now so you can finish your swim in privacy.”

He called out, “Come in the water. It feels great.”

She had no idea her heart could race so fast. She was so tempted—more tempted than she should have been.

“No, I can’t do that.”

“There's nothing like a midnight swim beneath a full moon,” he told her in a gentle voice that resonated all the way through her.

The picture he painted was tempting. Incredibly so. She could see it all play out in her head –she'd join him in the water and then they'd end up kissing again...or more.

And then she'd hate herself in the morning.

Still, she had to force herself to say, “Good night, Will,” and turn back toward the cabin.

Back in the bedroom, Angelina stared at the four walls until she began to notice all of the cute touches in the cabin she hadn’t seen earlier that night. The walls and the ceiling were beautiful pickled pine. The room was bright and clean, yet warm and relaxed at the same time. Will’s mother had a natural gift for balance and comfort.

And above the bed hung one of the most beautiful paintings Angelina had ever seen.

A man and a woman were entwined on the sand. Love radiated out from them.

It was exactly the kind of love she longed for...and feared she'd never find.

Will was already up and staring blankly at his laptop when his mother came rolling into the kitchen looking worlds better than she had the previous day. Joyce whirled around in her wheelchair and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Angelina get here all right?”

“She certainly did.” Will looked accusingly at his mother. “And what a surprise her arrival was.”

“Don’t you take that tone of voice with me, young man. If I want to hire a Feng Shui expert, I’ll damn well do it.”

Will had to work to fight back a grin. “If that’s your version of the tough-mom routine, it needs a little work.”

Joyce chuckled. “I thought the ‘damn’ added a nice dramatic flair.”

Right then, Angelina walked out of the guest bedroom and Will momentarily forgot his mother was even in the room. Angelina looked more gorgeous than ever.

But while he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, she didn’t even seem to know he was in the room as she rushed over and clasped his mother’s hands in hers.

“Joyce, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, my dear. I hope your trip wasn’t too tiring.”

Angelina paused and then murmured something about it being fine. “How are you feeling this morning?” She regarded Joyce’s wheelchair and cast sympathetically.

“Not too well I’m afraid,” Joyce responded, forcing her eyes away from Angelina’s sharp gaze, lest she give away her game.

Will’s eyes shot to his mother’s face. He thought about calling her bluff, but she was having such a good time trying out her new acting skills, he let it go.

“Honey,” Joyce said, turning to Will, “Margie is expecting you to go over right now to pick up some treats she made.”

“But Mom,” he complained, sounding less like a full-grown CEO and more like a little boy who wasn’t getting his way, “all of her daughters were over here yesterday dropping off food. What else could they have possibly made for us between now and then?”

Joyce shooed him out of the kitchen, deftly using her wheelchair to get him moving towards the front door. “And remember, dear, be nice to all of her lovely girls. I’m sure they’ll want to have a good long chat with you since you were too busy to talk yesterday.”

After he closed the door behind him, Joyce wheeled back into the kitchen.

“Sit down dear and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Angelina just wanted to get the consultation over and done with, but she knew when she was beat, so she dutifully took a seat.

She sat quietly at the kitchen table while Joyce boiled the water. Even with Will's mother confined to a wheelchair, Angelina had a feeling she was barely going to be able to keep up with her.

Joyce handed her a steaming cup of Chamomile tea. “I hope you don’t mind how insistent I was about having you come out to New York to meet with me.”

Angelina wasn’t sure how to respond. The truth was, she did mind. Not because she had anything against Will’s mother, but because she couldn’t handle being this close to her son.

Joyce waved away any answer she might have come up with. “Frankly, it’s not me that I’m worried about, it’s Will.”

Angelina was thankful she’d just swallowed her mouthful of tea. Otherwise she would have spit it out.

“I think you need to know about his father.”

“Joyce, I think we should be focusing on you if we’re going to -” she began, but Will’s mom cut her off.

“When Will was young he idolized his father, Howard. You should have seen them—wherever Howard was, you were sure to find Will. If Howard was building something, Will had his toy hammer out and was pounding on blocks. He was five years old when his father left without saying goodbye.”

“Before Howard left, Will was carefree, happy. He loved to paint with his fingers any and everywhere. I should know,” she said, chuckling softly. “I spent hours cleaning finger paint off of the walls and the furniture.” Too quickly, the smile fell from her face. “Overnight, Will stopped being a child. He shouldered the burden that his father left as the man of the house. It was as if he felt that it was up to him to support us both. No matter how much I tried to let him know that I could take care of us, he has always felt responsible for me.”

Joyce continued, looking up at Angelina, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. “The worst thing of all, though, was when he told me he was never going to have children of his own.”

“Why would he say a thing like that?” Angelina asked.

Joyce shook her head. “He has some crazy notion that he’s going to be just like Howard. That he’ll let down his own children.”

“Will would never do that,” Angelina protested hotly. “He’s amazing with kids.”

Joyce nodded in agreement. “I know that, and you know that, but he doesn’t seem to.” She cleared her throat. “I know I sound like a meddling mom, but yesterday I saw a joy in him I haven’t seen in thirty years. When he was telling me about you.”

Angelina’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out.

“And now that we’ve met, I like you just as much as I thought I would.”

Angelina know what to say.

“Joyce, I thought you wanted a Feng Shui consultation?” She was barely able to get the words out with so many conflicting thoughts swirling inside of her head.

Will's mother patted her hand. “Oh honey, I do. But I truly am exhausted. Do you mind if we postpone until later this afternoon?”

Angelina had no choice but to nod helplessly.

Joyce grabbed her empty cup and put it in the sink, but before she wheeled herself out of the kitchen and into her bedroom, she turned back with concern in her eyes. “Suddenly I feel terrible about all of this. I've never been a matchmaker before. I'm afraid I'm not very good at it. I hope one day you will forgive me.”

Angelina smiled. “Joyce, there’s nothing to forgive.” She couldn’t blame Will’s mother for the state of her heart, or for even forcing her to come out to New York. “I’m the one who decided to get on that plane. I could have said no.”

With that, Joyce gave Angelina a wide smile then wheeled out of the room.

Having said as much to Joyce, Angelina had to finally face the truth. No matter what she tried to tell herself to protect her heart, she had walked on to that plane because she wanted to find out more about Will from the person closest to him.

She threw on a sweater to ward off the slight chill in the air and stepped through the sliding door and onto the back deck of the house, which overlooked the lake.

Angelina couldn’t help but be delighted by the beauty all around her. The water was so perfectly blue she felt as if someone must have painted it. Poplar and birch trees blanketed the mountains surrounding the lake. She felt as if the mountains were wrapping their arms around her, whispering softly that everything was going to be okay.

Throughout her life, whenever Angelina was grappling with problems, she had found her answers by spending time in nature. It occurred to her now, as she walked through the incredible Adirondack Park treasure, that living amidst suburban sprawl in California had her on the verge of losing touch with the natural surroundings that were integral to her peace of mind and happiness.

Yuppie heaven and high tech were hardly her style.

A voice in her heart told her she wasn’t in the right place anymore. Suddenly, Angelina longed to be back in a quiet community where people were more concerned with who was throwing the weekend BBQ than who had the newest cell phone.

As she walked past the cute cottages, people of all ages waved at her while they gardened or played with their kids on the beach. What would it be like to live on this lake, she wondered?

It was a crazy thought, but something about it felt so right. At the same time, Angelina didn’t know if she could trust herself to make the right decisions about her life, considering that she seemed to make all the wrong decisions about men.

A family of ducks swam under the dock, but she was so engrossed in her thoughts she hardly saw them. Will scared the daylights out of her when he plopped down beside her on the pier.

When her heart rate returned to normal, she asked, “How were things with Margie’s three daughters?”

He put his head in his hands. “Worse than you could ever imagine. They had actually put together a scrapbook of articles about me.”

In a soft voice she said, “Why didn't you tell me the truth about who you are? Krista had to tell me to check out the latest copy of
People.
”

“I know it might sound ridiculous, but when you get to be a public person, you become suspicious of why people want to be around you.” He looked up at the blue sky, as if asking for assistance in what he was going to say next. “At first, when we met, I assumed you knew who I was.

But when you didn’t know what I did for a living, it was such a relief.”

“I suppose,” Angelina conceded, “it must be hard to be so well known.”

“The truth is, I can’t remember the last time someone was interested in me, instead of what I can do for them. Until you. That's why I didn't want you to know.”

“How could you think that something as stupid as how much money you have in the bank or how many magazines have your picture in them matters to me?”

Will turned and held her heated gaze. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

All of her anger evaporated with that simple sentence. She was unable to drop her eyes, unable to break the fragile bond that they were building.

“Can you forgive me?” He grasped her hand tightly in his own.

She wondered, for a moment, what he wanted her forgiveness for. For lying to her? Or for being a better man than she had the grace to admit he was?

Suddenly, she forgave him everything. She had no choice. Her feelings for him were that strong. “Yes, I forgive you.”

She thought he was going to lean in to kiss her and she could hardly wait to feel the sweet pressure of his lips on hers. Instead, he stood and reached out a hand to help her up.

“So, tell me, what were you thinking so hard about before I got here?”

Angelina reeled slightly from the change of subject. “I wasn’t thinking about anything much,”

she lied, knowing she couldn't possible admit that she'd been thinking about him. “Your mother said she was going to rest a little, but I’m sure she’s waiting for me by now. I should be heading back.”

Will, who hadn’t let go of her hand yet, said, “Not so fast. Mom can wait. Right now, you’re coming with me to my favorite place.”

Not even bothering to protest—she wanted to be with him more than she wanted to do a consultation, especially now that he was being straight with her—she followed willingly into his car.