With a Little T.L.C. (6 page)

He shook his head and automatically blocked her path. “That does it. You'll have to get past me to see it.” Then he threw up his hands and in the dim light she saw his grin. “Look who I'm talking to. Miss Do-as-I-say-or-I'll-twist-your-ear-off.”

Liz couldn't help laughing at him even though she had mixed feelings about her choice of after-dessert entertainment. It was safer inside, surrounded by his family. Outside was a lovely summer evening with a romantic sky full of stars and a full course crow dinner. After learning that the phone call he'd received had been perfectly innocent, she owed him an apology. Best to get it over with. When Joe tugged her from beneath the patio cover to a spot by the pool, she didn't protest.

The night was warm, with a hint of breeze blowing. Malibu lights illuminated the whole backyard and the
pool area. Joe sat on the edge of the pool and stuck his bare feet in the water. He patted the cement beside him and she only hesitated a second before accepting his invitation. She slipped off her sneakers and dipped her feet into the soothing water.

A big sigh of contentment escaped her. She was amazed how comfortable she was with him now that she'd let her guard down. She'd felt his magnetism right from the beginning and had been fighting against it. Now she knew resisting was an exercise in futility. But before she could completely relax, there was something she had to do.

“Joe, I want to apologize to you.”

“Okay.”

“I'm sorry I questioned you that day. When Abby called, I automatically assumed it was a woman—”

“And you were right.”

“You're not going to make this easy, are you?” She let out a long breath. “Okay. I insist you make it as hard on me as you can. I sure didn't go easy on you. It would make me feel better if you just rub my nose in how awful I was to you.”

“Would I do that?”

She slid him a sideways glance. “Yeah. And I don't blame you. Believe me, I'll feel a lot better if you make this just as difficult as possible. I deserve it. My only excuse was that every time I saw you, there was a different woman.”

“Ah yes. What was it you said? I had a revolving door for a heart.” He grinned. “Not that I owe you, but the tall blonde you saw me with really was my secretary. I told you about her, the one who had a baby. Not only did she drop off a gift for Rosie, she
was at the hospital because she was pregnant and having tests.”

“Okay.” She nodded, resigned to taking what he had to dish out. She owed him that. Even if he'd been less than a gentleman to one of her co-workers. “However, in my own defense, I have to say that I probably wouldn't have jumped to conclusions if it hadn't been for the way you dumped Trish.”

He tensed beside her. “Trish Hudson? You mentioned her before, that day at the beach.”

She read the look of intensity on his face and had a feeling she wasn't going to like this. “What?”

“That's what I'd like to know. I wouldn't call our parting of the ways a dump.”

“She found you with another woman.”

“What?” He stood up and jammed his hands on his hips. Even in the dim light she could read anger, betrayal, and self-righteous indignation on his face. If he was acting, it was an academy award caliber performance. What was going on?

She stood up, too. “Trish said she broke it off when she dropped by your condo and found you with another woman. She admitted that you'd never actually agreed to an exclusive relationship, but she was hurt just the same,” Liz finished doubtfully.

He shook his head and there was a bitter twist to his mouth. “Interesting interpretation. And a complete fabrication. But why would you believe a guy who doesn't know the meaning of the word longevity or sincerity?”

“Try me.”

Surprise flashed into his eyes. Then he nodded. “I took her out a few times. She was getting serious and possessive. I didn't feel the same way. I prefer to be
straightforward and told her that. I said I'd like it if we could remain friends. End of story.”

Maybe it was the way he said the words, completely without embellishment, but she knew he was telling the truth. “Now I feel like a jerk, times three,” she said.

“You believe me?” he asked, obviously surprised.

“Yeah,” she said nodding. “I do. Trish the dish has been caught in a couple of lies—calling in sick to go away for a long weekend, having someone else punch her in when she'd taken a longer lunch. Stuff like that.” She shook her head. “Even knowing that about her, I was quick to take her word over yours. Joe, I can't even begin to tell you how very sorry I am. Can you forgive me?”

He paced on the pool deck for a few moments, then stopped in front of her and looked down. The scent of his aftershave drifted to her, making her insides quiver. He was so close, she could feel the warmth of his body. God help her, she wanted him to touch her, hold her. Kiss her? Yeah, that too. Especially that, even though it was not the brightest thing to do.

Finally he said, “Yeah. I forgive you.”

His words made her relax, even though she didn't understand how he could so easily let her off the hook. “Just like that?” she asked.

“What can I say? I'm a great guy.”

“I'm beginning to see that. Anyone else would have seen that from the beginning. Anyone but me.”

“Why is that, Liz?”

His tone—warm, welcoming—invited confidences. If nothing else, he deserved an explanation.

She sighed and sat on the chaise lounge next to the pool. He sat on the matching one next to her and their
bare knees brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through her. She pushed the sensation aside. After misjudging him so badly, she owed him an explanation.

“I already told you I'm an only child. As far as I know.”

“What does that mean?”

“You remind me of my father, Joe.”

“With a lead-in like that, I'm not sure I want to hear this.” He laughed without humor. “Not to mention that when a guy is sitting under the stars with a girl, he doesn't especially want to hear that he reminds her of her father.”

Her heart pounded. Did that mean he wanted to kiss her, too? If that was true, she was even more humbled. After the way she'd treated him, that he could still be nice to her was amazing.

She met his gaze. “What I meant to say was that I was attributing behaviors to you that you didn't deserve based on what my father did.”

“And what was that?”

“He was handsome as sin. He was an unfaithful playboy who broke my mother's heart on a painfully regular basis. I don't ever remember a time when he wasn't cheating on her. From the time I was a little girl I would wake up and find her waiting for him to come home. Sometimes he didn't show up at all. When he did, usually he reeked of perfume and didn't bother to hide the lipstick smudges on his shirt.”

He reached over and wrapped his big warm hands around her smaller ones. That comforting gesture sent a feeling through her, a sensation that she was safe and protected. It was something she had never felt before. It was a warm, cozy, wonderful feeling that,
oddly enough, made her afraid too. It was something she never wanted to count on because she couldn't trust it.

When she tried to pull her hands away, he wouldn't let her. He held on, gently but firmly, and squeezed reassuringly. “I'm sorry, Liz. That must have been hard for you. And it does help me understand.”

“There's more.”

He shook his head. “You don't have to tell me. I can see that this hurts you a lot.”

“Yeah, but I need to clear the air, get it off my chest. I was terrible to you and you didn't deserve it. I'm so ashamed. My behavior was reprehensible. The least I can do is tell all.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.”

She cleared her throat. “Mom and Dad stayed together. For my sake. But he was never really there.” She thought about the day's birthday festivities and laughed a little bitterly. “Would you believe I was envious of Stephanie tonight? Pretty funny, huh?”

“Why?”

“Because everyone in this family loves her enough to take time out of their busy lives to acknowledge her first birthday. And except for the pictures, she won't even remember.” She looked at the pool, the light at the bottom. “It was usually just me and Mom on my momentous occasions.”

“Your dad didn't show, not even for birthdays?”

She shook her head, willing the tears she'd never shed not to fall now. “Not graduations or awards ceremonies or prom night. Why would he when the flavor of the month was so much more exciting?”

“Where is he now?” There was an angry edge to his voice.

She'd never heard that particular tone from him before. Was it on her behalf? What would he say if she told him it got to her even more than his charm?

“He died the year I started nursing school. My mother had thought there was life insurance. But he'd borrowed against it until everything was gone. No doubt he had to spend money to impress whatever woman was in his life. Mom and I moved to a smaller apartment. I worked my way through school.”

“What happened to your mom?”

“She died about a year after he did. I suspect of a broken heart. She loved him, in spite of the fact that he didn't know the meaning of the word faithful. Unlike your parents.”

“Yeah,” he said grimly. “Thanks to them, I'm no longer looking for someone.”

“I
don't understand that.” Liz was sincerely interested in his answer.

Now that he'd shot down her suspicions, she really and truly wanted to believe he was telling the truth. She wanted to trust that he wasn't just fabricating this story to lull her into a false sense of security. But it was awfully hard to swallow. As a boy, he'd grown up in a stable family. As a man, he had everything—looks, enough personality to charm a determined hermit, and financial security. If nothing else, women would come on to him in mind-boggling numbers increasing the probability that he would find someone. Why would a guy turn his back on that? And what did his parents have to do with his decision?

Joe let her hands go and ran his fingers through his hair. The gesture was almost angry. He stood up and his big body blocked out the Malibu lights, putting her in the dark.

“I'm a pretty competitive guy,” he said. “It's not
always a good thing. I tend to calculate my chances of success. I hate to lose.”

“Funny, I thought we were talking about romance. I was paying attention. I missed the transition to a marathon.”

“From what I've seen love makes the iron man competition look like an ice cream social.”

“Really?”

He turned and met her gaze. “I've watched guys I went to high school and college with fall in love, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. The next thing I knew, they'd split for one reason or another and then it's all about hurt and blame and making the person they supposedly loved pay. Alimony, child support, not to mention the emotional cost. A friend of mine is going through hell right now. His ex is using the kids as a weapon. She makes his life miserable, changes the rules, holds him to the letter of their agreement. No flexibility at all. It stinks.”

“That's a shame. Everyone loses. Especially the children. Take it from someone who knows.”

He put his hands on his hips. “It seems wrong to use the legal system for revenge.”

This was a side to him that surprised her, a depth she hadn't suspected. She'd thought he was all charm and as shallow as a puddle. For some reason she felt the need to poke holes in his cynicism, bolster his boyish enthusiasm.

“Surely there are happy couples out there. What about Rosie and Steve?”

He shrugged. “That's different. They've known each other since they were kids. I think they've always been in love.”

“I'm not sure why that's different. But, okay.” She thought for a minute. “Nick and Abby?”

“Same thing. They have a long history together. Nick gave her her first job and helped her after her folks died in a car accident. She raised her younger sister Sarah and he was there for both of them.”

“And suddenly it turned to love?”

“I hear that skeptical note in your voice. I wouldn't describe it like that exactly. I think it was always there from the moment they met and it just took time for them to figure it out.”

He met her gaze. “Okay, and then there's my parents who have been together over three decades. They're disgusting the way they still hold hands, make goo-goo eyes, etcetera.”

“I think that's sweet.”

“Yeah. But given today's divorce statistics, who can match that?”

“So you're not going to try?”

“I have tried.”

“A lot?” she asked. She attempted a teasing note in the question, but found the subject still rubbed a raw spot inside her. Why? What possible difference could it make to her whether or not he had dated a lot? She had no intention of being next in his line of hopefuls.

He smiled. “I suppose a lot. I've met quite a few women.”

“I'd be surprised if you hadn't.” A guy as good-looking as him would have to barricade the door of a monastery to keep the hussy hordes at bay.

“You didn't let me finish. I've met and dated a lot in my time, but I don't think love is in the cards for me.”

“Because it hasn't happened?” Say yes, she thought, not willing to analyze why she cared whether or not he'd been in love.

“There's been no one special for the long haul. And because of the example my parents set and all the pain and misery I've seen—failure is not an option.”

“So you're giving up?”

“I wouldn't put it like that. Stopped looking is more the way I see it. I choose not to try. There's a difference. Somehow it seems nobler to take yourself out of the game than to play handicapped and blow it completely.”

“I suppose.” She shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“It's getting chilly,” she admitted.

“I can do something about that.” He held out his hand.

Her heart beat double-time as she put her cold hand in his warm, strong one and let him pull her to her feet. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, looking up—way up—at him.

Most guys would go straight to something physical to warm her up. What would he do?

He linked his fingers with hers and led the way past the pool and toward the brightly lit house. “I need to get you inside before Regional Medical Center's star baby nurse gets sick.”

Liz felt a momentary prick of disappointment not to mention frustration. Nine guys out of ten would have opted for combined body heat and probably a kiss leading to whatever he could get away with. Why did she find it so annoying that he'd picked this opportunity to prove yet again that he was a ten?

 

Joe was taking a break from his volunteer shift while the babies were with the mothers. On his way to the cafeteria for a soda, he passed classroom 2 and realized that this was the night Liz held her new mothers' support group. He poked his head in the back door, just to see what was going on, he told himself. Not because it had been two days since they'd been together at his folks. And not because he'd been keeping his eyes open for her ever since he'd arrived right after work and had been disappointed at not seeing her cute, curvy, cheery little person.

She was in the front of the room listening intently to one of the moms and didn't notice when he slipped into the room and took a seat in the back. All the better to watch her.

Tonight she wore hospital scrubs—teal-colored cotton pants with an elastic waist and a V-neck top covered with cartoon characters cavorting on a white background. Certainly not a femme fatale ensemble, but eminently practical for her job. Oddly enough, shapeless clothes and all, she looked pretty darn good to him.

He watched her bite her lip as she focused on the woman's words, something about not being interested in what got her into this in the first place. It was the darnedest thing. Why had he not realized what a kissable mouth Liz had until he
hadn't
kissed her?

Ever since she'd told him her history, he hadn't been able to concentrate on much of anything but her. Visions of Liz under the stars kept popping into his mind. He'd thought about kissing her. He'd wanted to. The way she'd looked up at him with her big eyes
and all, he'd sensed that she wanted him to kiss her, too.

But he decided it would be best not to live up to her low expectations. Unfortunately, his body didn't get the logic. The more he watched her now, the worse it got. Maybe absence was the antidote. He decided it was time to leave. When he stood, the chair backed up a notch and the resulting squeak seemed loud as a gunshot. All heads in the room turned. He froze, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hey, Joe.” Barbara held up a hand in a wave. “Got any more words of wisdom?”

“Excuse me?” he said.

Andie, the mother with breast-feeding questions, chimed in. “You were amazing the last time you dropped by group. I bet you can give us some great advice about this.”

He'd been concentrating on Liz's mouth and hadn't a clue what they were talking about. But it was safe to say whatever it was probably wasn't for a man's ears. “I didn't mean to intrude. Actually, I just came in to sit for a minute until visiting hours are over and the babies go back to the nursery.”

There was a twinkle in Liz's eyes as she said, “For our new moms, let me introduce you. This is Joe Marchetti, our most recent addition to the cuddlers program.”

“Hi,” he said with a quick wave.

He recognized Andie and remembered her baby's name was Val. And Barbara was there with Tommy. There were a couple more mothers he recognized and several who looked what he could only describe as “first-couple-weeks-of-infancy haggard.”

“No doubt you heard, but let me sum up for you,”
Liz said in a tone that told him she knew he didn't have a clue. “We were discussing what I like to call post-partum lackluster libido syndrome. I've tried to come up with some suggestions to combat this phenomenon in new mothers. They love their husbands. They're anxious to show their love. But they aren't quite
there
yet, if you get my drift.”

He groaned inwardly. Here we go with the doublespeak again, he thought. The wild thing, you know, the horizontal boogie, and so on. He looked at his watch. “It's almost that time. I wouldn't want to shirk my volunteer responsibilities. My boss is a tough cookie—”

“Not so fast, Joe.” Barbara bounced her sleeping infant. “We're talking about the wild thing here. Remember that?”

Did he ever. Since that night under the stars with Liz, it was all he could think about. That and how good she smelled. How soft her skin was when he'd held her small hands. How delicate and feminine those hands were and how it made him want to protect her. And that led him to more wanting—like the touch, texture and taste of her lips—
if
he'd taken a chance and kissed her.

“What about it?” he asked, hoping they hadn't noticed that his voice sounded hoarse.

“It's what brought me this beautiful baby boy. I feel so blessed. And I feel bad for my husband. I love him. But I'm afraid that I'll never want to be with him again. You're a guy—”

“Brilliant, Barb,” Andie said with a chuckle. “What was your first clue?”

“The beard and muscles were a dead giveaway,” said a woman whose name he didn't know.

“Okay, Christina,” Liz said laughing. “We don't want to embarrass our guest speaker.”

“Are we making you uncomfortable, Joe?” Barbara asked.

“No,” he said and found it was true. Only one woman in the room made him uncomfortable. She was wearing shapeless scrubs and had a kissable mouth.

For half a second he thought he might have said that out loud. When they didn't look at their fearless leader and snicker, he figured there was no need to duck and run.

But he realized he truly wasn't embarrassed about the subject matter. This was an earthy group of women who were at ease with talking about this perfectly natural subject.

“Do you have any advice?” Liz asked, tapping her top lip with her finger.

There it was again. His pesky inclination to trace that exact spot with his tongue. “Well,” he said, then swallowed hard. “I would start with kissing.”

“How's that?” Liz asked. He wondered if it was wishful thinking on his part or if she actually sounded a little breathless.

“Take baby steps,” he continued. A general giggle erupted. He grinned at the group as he moved to the front of the room. “You and your mate have been through the most intimate experience a couple can share. But life is a series of trade-offs. Having a baby brings you closer.”

“I hear a but,” Christina said.

He nodded. “The demands of an infant can drive a wedge between you if you're not careful. Make time for each other. Start with kissing—no expectations for
either of you. Then just holding. Again no expectations. Before you know it, the wild thing will just happen. Like anything fragile, libido needs raw material to help it grow. I suspect if you start slowly, you'll find yourself really getting into it.”

“You make it sound easy,” Barbara said, sighing loudly.

“It is. Finding a window of opportunity and wedging it open is the tough part.” They all laughed.

“How do you know so much about this?” Christina asked. “Are you married?”

He shook his head. “But I have a sister who's gone through what you are now. As a matter of fact she and her husband must have had opportunity and motive because she's expecting her second child in a few weeks.”

Christina laughed ruefully. “That's going to make it darn near impossible to pry open that window of opportunity again.”

“That's what uncles are for.”

“And I think we'll stop there. Our time is up for tonight,” Liz said, looking at her watch. “Good night, ladies. See you next time. Thanks, Joe. Your advice was basic but sound. I think we forget how important touching and holding are.”

A murmur of thanks came from the women gathering up babies, bags and belongings before they filed out.

“That's high praise from a tough taskmaster like you.” He looked down at her.

“I mean every word.” She smiled and headed for the doorway. “See you around. Good night.”

“'Night,” he said to her back.

He liked talking to her and had hoped she'd stick
around. But why should he care when she didn't? She'd seen the downside of commitment and he'd stopped believing.

Maybe it was for the best. Definitely for the best.

 

Liz had put in an hour catching up on paperwork and was just on her way out the door when she heard her name paged. The nearest phone was at the volunteer sign-in desk. Unfortunately, so was Joe Marchetti. She was having a tough time fighting off thoughts of him that kept creeping into her head. Double whammy. An intimate conversation under the stars where his deep voice had mesmerized her. And then he
hadn't
kissed her. That was a combination difficult for a cynic like her to resist. Difficult because it had become her habit to believe the worst first and ask questions later. The question was why hadn't he made a move on her?