The Summer House (2 page)

She considered her options. Standing this close to him was doing bad things to her knees. She kept feeling as if they were going to give way at any moment. So sitting down and staying seated seemed like a really good idea.

“Let’s go in now,” she said.

“Great. This way.”

He indicated the direction with one hand and rested his other on the small of her back. She felt every inch of skin touching her through the dress as if she were being burned by a brand.

Hmm, not exactly a brand, she thought. The pressure was far too nice for that. But something hot. Something that made her want to move closer and rub like a lonely house cat.

Obviously, seeing Rick after all these years had made quite an impression on her. She’d expected to feel awkward, but she hadn’t expected to be blown away. Honestly, she hadn’t expected a lot of things.

T
hey were led to a table by an open window that offered a perfect view of the ocean. Mandy lowered herself onto the chair and was grateful for the soft breeze that drifted across her face. Maybe fresh air would help keep her senses straight.

Rick sat across from her. Although she couldn’t help thinking that her ability to speak in anything close to full sentences would be greatly increased if he was across the room…or maybe even in another restaurant.

The hostess handed them menus. Mandy took hers without opening it and laid it across her place setting. There were several boats out on the water and children playing along the shore. Lots and lots of activity to capture her interest. But instead of gazing out at the view, or the people, she found her attention drawn to the man sitting across from her.

His eyes were the same blue as the water below, she thought. A deep, dark blue. She was unused to seeing his irises so clearly—normally he wore thick glasses, which blurred the color. Well, not when they’d been in bed. While they’d made love, she’d been able to clearly see his eyes, which made looking at them now a distinctly sexual activity. Like she needed to sweat her attraction to him even more!

“It’s the glasses, right?” he said cheerfully. “You’re not used to seeing me without them.”

“Exactly.”

“I had the laser surgery a few years back. Now I have perfect vision.”

She winced. “I don’t think I could stand the thought of someone pointing a laser at my eyes. I’d be forced to run screaming from the room.”

“You never wore glasses so you don’t know what a pain they can be. I was forever having to push them up. When I started scuba diving, I wanted to be able to see the fish and whatever else was floating around down there. My corrective mask helped, but not enough. Once they perfected the procedure, I went ahead and had it done.”

Mandy stared at him. “Scuba diving?” she repeated. As in being in the water, getting wet and swimming? Rick? The man who considered turning on his computer close enough to a sport to call it exercise?

“Wow,” was all she managed before the waitress appeared at their table.

The woman was petite and blond, with a bright, sassy smile and a gaze that lingered on Rick. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked, focusing all her attention on him.

Rick barely glanced at her. “Mandy? What would you like?”

“Just a diet soda,” she said.

“I’ll have iced tea,” he told the waitress.

The young woman nodded and left. Mandy had the impression that Rick had noticed her interest in him and had not been impressed. Talk about a change. Eight years ago if a woman other than Mandy even spoke to him, he generally started blushing and dropping things.

He leaned toward her, his elbows on the table. “You’re very much the same, only better,” he said lightly.

“Thanks. I could say the same about you.”

He chuckled. “I’m not a nerd anymore?”

She eyed his muscular arms, visible in his short-sleeved shirt, and the breadth of his chest. From there she admired the square set of his jaw, the killer blue eyes and mouth that curved at the corners.

“No hint of a nerd at all.”

“I sent in for one of those study-at-home courses,” he confessed in a low, teasing voice. “From the James Bond school of male behavior. I have a small pistol tucked into my sock.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. She still seemed to notice only Rick.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked him. “We have several specials.”

Rick shook his head. “Why don’t you give us a little time? We have a lot of…catching up to do.”

The waitress finally glanced at Mandy. Her mouth twisted. “Lucky you,” she muttered as she left.

Mandy laughed. “That James Bond course really paid off. She’s smitten.”

Rick dismissed the comment with a wave. “Okay, I didn’t take a course, but I have changed. I guess I grew up. After MIT, I got a job that put me out in the real world for the first time. I traveled a lot, met different people, experienced things. It all had an impact. I like to think it was an improvement.”

She couldn’t help wondering how many women had been involved with his “experiences.” Probably a lot. Not that it was her business. Although she did wonder where he’d learned to send out such sexual vibrations. Even sitting down she could feel her knees knocking slightly.

“You were terrific before,” she said easily. “Although I’ll admit the package is a little more polished now.”

He nodded his thanks. “And you?”

“I like to think I’ve matured. I managed to turn thirty this year without sobbing myself to sleep.”

“Thirty looks amazing on you,” he said. Then before she could respond, he raised his iced tea. “To growing up, and to old friends.”

She touched her glass to his, even as she wondered if they could be considered old friends. They had been married for nearly eight months, then they’d parted under unfortunate circumstances. There had been a lot of pain, but time had healed, as it was supposed to.

“Tell me about your life,” he said. “I hear a few things from my mom, but not the details. How long have you been teaching?”

“For six years now.” She thought of her kids and smiled. “It’s the best.”

“Why?”

“The students keep me honest. Every day I have to give a hundred percent. If I don’t, they notice. I like the challenge. When there’s a change—some kind of progress—it’s the greatest feeling in the world. I know I’ve made an impact and it can last for a lifetime. I don’t know of anything more rewarding than that.”

His steady blue gaze never left her face. “Why special education?”

“Actually, that was an accident. When I was getting my master’s I did some student teaching. My paperwork got mixed up with someone else’s and I ended up in a special ed class. Within two days, I was hooked. I changed my emphasis, took a few more classes and here I am. I started out working with kids who were deaf, then a couple of years ago I was switched to kids who have learning disabilities. Last year most had minor disabilities. Some had Down syndrome.”

“How do you find the patience?”

She shrugged. “I just do. I adore them. Don’t get me wrong, some of the kids can be really difficult, but most of them are determined to make it in the world. They want to be like everyone else, and if that means working ten times as hard, they’ll do it.”

She leaned toward him. “One of my students, Bryce, really wanted to learn to play the piano. It was going to be his grandmother’s seventieth birthday and he wanted to surprise her by playing her favorite song. He practiced every day for two hours. While the other kids were out playing games, he was at the piano. It took him nearly three months, but he mastered it. I was lucky enough to be there for the birthday celebration. He was so proud of himself. His
grandmother was stunned and we were all pretty much in tears.”

“Your eyes light up when you talk about the kids,” he said. “They’re lucky to have you.”

She chuckled. “I know this is going to sound like a cliché, but I’m lucky to have them.” Her humor faded. “I won’t pretend it’s easy. There are tough times. Kids don’t always make the progress I’d hope they would. Parents can be difficult—either expecting too much or not enough. Some parents can’t see their children as anything but flawed and broken. Then there’s the school system itself. We’re constantly fighting for money and resources.”

“Any favorite students?”

The question caught her off guard and made her think of Eva. Not today, she told herself. Not right now.

“Teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites.”

“But you do.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

“Do you ever need a break?”

“Sure. That’s why I’m here. My friend Cassie offered me the use of the family summer house for a month and I jumped at the chance. I want to be as lazy as possible, doing nothing so I can recharge my energy.”

“I remember Cassie,” he said. “Wasn’t she your maid of honor at the wedding?”

“That’s her.”

Rick listened and watched as Mandy brought him up-to-date on some other people he’d known through her. She still used her hands when she talked, gesturing broadly and moving her body. He laughed at the
funny bits and asked questions, all the while observing the play of emotion on her face.

Her wide, green eyes kept very few secrets. In them he saw affection for Cassie, just as he’d seen love for her students a few minutes ago, along with a flash of some darker emotion. Something that disturbed her. A man, he wondered? Someone who didn’t share her dreams?

His mother hadn’t said that Mandy was involved with anyone serious, but then his mother was very careful to pick and choose her information as it suited her best. Besides, it wasn’t as if he ever grilled his mother about Mandy. Until she’d called and suggested lunch, he hadn’t thought he would ever see her again.

The waitress returned, but he sent her away, asking for a little more time.

“You still live in Los Angeles, don’t you?” he asked.

“Torrance,” she said. “It’s a nice area. Close to the beach, without the beach prices.”

“Not exactly Beverly Hills,” he teased. “Do you still get over there for shopping?”

“Not on a teacher’s salary.”

“No credit cards from Daddy?”

She laughed. “He tries. Every time we get together, he hands me an American Express card, but I keep saying no. It’s bad enough that my Christmas and birthday presents are things like living-room furniture or a new car.”

“Most people wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m not complaining. Not exactly. But I do like to think that I’m making it on my own.”

“You’re his only child.”

“I don’t know. Some of his girlfriends could qualify.”

Her eyes sparkled with humor as she spoke. Rick recalled his ex-father-in-law’s preference for young, leggy blondes.

“Are they your age now?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. A couple have been younger. At least we can swap clothes.” She laughed. “He’s currently dating the star of his last art film, so she’s about thirty-two. I know eventually he’s going to start going out with the female leads from his teen films. Then I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

She picked up her glass and took a sip. “I’m ragging on him, but the truth is he’s a terrific father. He gets caught up in his work, but I know he cares about me a lot.”

Martin Carter was a successful movie producer who had been responsible for some of the most successful, high-class films ever produced. He also had a soft spot for teen slasher movies. The combination made for interesting cocktail parties.

“I saw his last one.
Autumn Hills,
” he said.

Mandy looked at him. Her full mouth quivered slightly. “An elegantly made picture with a true, visionary ending.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get it, either.”

She laughed. “I sat there, staring at the screen thinking, is it me? I can’t believe how much money that thing made. I kept feeling like it was a modern version of ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes.’ No one was willing to admit he or she didn’t get the story.” She sighed. “My father, the artist.”

“At least he doesn’t try to manipulate his children.”

Mandy’s smile broadened. “You wouldn’t be referring to your mother, would you?”

“Me? Never.”

“Uh-huh. She sure twisted me around this time. I was really surprised by her suggestion that I call you so we could meet for lunch.”

“Yet you obeyed.”

“That I did.”

He looked at her pretty face, at her shining red curls, at the slight hint of cleavage at the scoop of her dress. He thought of the pleasure he felt in seeing her again, and the not-so-subtle sexual energy humming between them.

“I’m not sorry you called,” he said.

“Me, either.”

They stared at each other. Rick felt a definite heat flare between them. Her hand lay on the table and he wanted to reach out to put his on top. He wanted to trace the pale blue veins on the inside of her wrist and feel the gentle pulse of her heartbeat at the curve of her neck. He wanted a lot of things.

The growing desire surprised him. Mandy had always been attractive and he’d expected to still find her so, but he hadn’t thought there would be this…
wanting.

She hadn’t been his first lover, but she had been his first serious girlfriend. He’d loved her with all his inept heart had been capable of. As for their sex life, he didn’t remember very much except that he’d been young and had had unlimited access to a willing female for the first time in his life. He winced as he recalled being far more interested in quantity than quality. He doubted Mandy’s memories of the events were as good his own.

“What are you thinking?” she asked. “You have the most interesting expression on your face.”

“Just taking a little trip down memory lane.”

“Want to share?”

That he’d probably been a lousy lover when they’d been married? “I don’t think so.”

It wasn’t exactly lunch conversation. Nor was the fact that he knew a whole lot more about pleasing a woman these days. It seemed unlikely he would have the opportunity to show Mandy what he’d learned, although the idea intrigued him.

“Oh, come on, Rick. After all this time, we can’t possibly have any secrets worth keeping.”

The waitress returned, relieving him of the necessity of answering.

“You two ready to order?”

Mandy sighed. “I suppose we can’t keep the table all day.” She flipped open her menu. “I’ll have the California chicken salad.”

He didn’t bother looking at the selections. “I’ll have the same.”

The waitress wrote down their order and left.

Mandy stared at him, wide-eyed. “You? Eating a salad? On purpose? But you hate vegetables, and lettuce makes you gag.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Maybe a little, but I still remember the fuss you made when I had the audacity to serve both a salad and green beans with a meal. The way you went on about eating two vegetables in the same meal has stayed with me forever.”

He winced slightly. “Not exactly the urban image I wanted to cultivate. I was a kid when we got married.”