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"And about that kissing thing-"
"Oh, for heaven's sake. Would you forget about the kissing thing?"
She felt his nearness, his warmth, the stirrings of desire.
"No. Some things are unforgettable."
A tiny sound came out of her throat, unbidden, primal. Their gazes connected and it was like a match to dry tinder.
Her heart sped up, her skin began to tingle.
He moved closer; their mouths were in easy reach. With no order from any thinking part of her brain, her lips parted.
He moved closer. "I want to tell you that since you're the one with the rules I'm going to leave the next move to you."
While she stood there astonished, he leaned past her to open the door. "Good night."
9.
ROB WAS BEGINNING to find his forced sabbatical much more interesting than he'd ever antic.i.p.ated, he thought, as he lugged his camera bag awkwardly down the old wooden steps to the unfinished bas.e.m.e.nt. The smell of the lower floor was as familiar to him as a signature perfume on a woman. It smelled like dust and aging cement and years of layered memory. Down here he'd built his first model airplane with newspaper spread out to catch the glue drips though somehow they always ended up on him anyway. He supposed he'd had a man cave back before the term even existed. A boy cave in truth. A lumpy old couch still crouched in the corner. He'd hunched on it on rainy Sat.u.r.day afternoons to read comic books. Later he'd snuck a girl or two down here for some heavy petting. And in between all of that his grandmother had allowed him to turn an old bathroom into a darkroom.
Now that his home had become a decorator's showplace everywhere but down here, he'd begun using the old oak desk in the corner. He fired up his computer and downloaded today's photos.
He began looking through his personal photo library, hunting for the similarities he'd detected between these everyday scenes in the town he called home and the many scenes of daily life he'd witnessed in places far, far from home.
He'd read somewhere that the different racial characteristics had developed around ten thousand years ago. Before that man had been one small tribe in Africa. He'd begun to realize what human DNA demonstrated-we are more similar than we are different.
Over the next couple of weeks he worked on his idea. It gave shape to his days, a purpose to his idleness. He'd never in all his career had time like this to devote to a larger project. He'd become so accustomed to s.n.a.t.c.hing a story in process, snapping photos that were more about capturing today's action than art. Now he had the time and leisure to do both. And to tell a story that wouldn't be old news in a few weeks but was timeless.
He'd caught up with a few of his old friends, and it was strange to see them settled, some with families.
"Still footloose and fancy-free, huh?" Mike Lazenby asked him as they hung out at Mike's place one Sat.u.r.day afternoon while his wife shopped. The guy was pacing the living room, a squirming, fussy infant draped over his shoulder. A line of spit-up ran down his back like seagull p.o.o.p. But there was no jealousy in his tone. While Mike had been a legendary womanizer and rabble-rouser back in the day, Rob sensed deep contentment in his old friend.
"Yep."
Wouldn't be his choice, but it was nice to see Mike happy.
He saw Hailey a few times whenever she dropped in to make sure the place was perfect before she booted him out for her showings. He took perverse pride in always being there, in making her boot him out. It was kind of a kick, as was the buzz of electricity between them every time they saw each other.
He was healing nicely. He was well rested, well fed and in far too frequent company with the s.e.xiest Realtor he'd ever seen. He wondered when they were going to close the deal between each other.
From how she looked at him from time to time, he knew, whether she said so or not, that she was thinking the same thing.
She'd been pretty p.i.s.sed with him when he'd told the Fergusons-truthfully-that racc.o.o.ns nested in the trees in his yard. He used to have one that climbed right up to his window where he'd leave food out for it. Okay, maybe he'd overheard the little girl say she was scared of racc.o.o.ns but he was certain that wasn't the only reason they'd chosen another home. He wasn't disappointed to lose out on a fast sale that would have left him homeless as well as jobless.
Since she'd found them another home and closed the deal, she'd gotten over that. Still, he had to be careful or firing her wouldn't be an issue. She'd quit.
It was a rainy Thursday and once again he was pushed out of his own home.
"Where are you going in this rain with a camera?" she asked him.
"I have a date with a troll," he told her.
She raised her brows but she had to know he meant Fremont's very own troll, the sculpture under the Aurora Bridge, which he was going to photograph. He had no idea what he was going to do, but was confident that creativity, luck and timing would be on his side.
Or else he'd go get a coffee at Beananza and read the paper.
"Have fun with your troll."
"I'd rather have fun with you. You thought anymore about that kissing thing?"
The door shut with a decided bang behind him. He chuckled. Trolls could turn up anywhere.
He got lucky. Some tourists had come to see the troll and after he took a few snaps of them with their camera, he asked if he could take a few with his. One day they might be published, he told them, though it would probably be on his website. If he ever got one started.
Then the Adopt-a-Troll group came by to clean up litter. He snapped a few more shots. And finally he photographed the gloomy guy all alone beneath the cavernous bridge.
He still had time to stop for a coffee before heading home.
HAILEY HADN'T BOTHERED to tell Rob that the family coming to view the place today were cousins of Julia's. It wasn't any of his business. Paige and Jay were expecting their first child. Likely the house was out of their price range but even if it was they might tell friends about the place. Hal Wilson at work was about to list a very nice town house that would suit Paige and Jay and a little one perfectly.
Naturally, when the doorbell rang there were more than two people standing there. Paige and Jay, Julia, Paige's sister Noreen and Julia's mother Gloria were already talking a mile a minute as she opened the door.
"Congratulations on the listing, honey," Gloria said, giving her a huge hug. Gloria was an older, heavier version of Julia. Dramatic, outspoken and deeply maternal.
"Thanks. Julia's staging really makes the house shine."
"I couldn't be more proud of you two." Hailey knew it was true and once more felt very fortunate to be considered part of this loving family.
"Come on in and see the house," she said.
The oohs and aahs were predictable. As was the moment when Paige said, "I feel overwhelmed. This place is too big."
Hailey nodded. "I think I have the ideal place for you. It's not even on the market yet. We can see it tomorrow."
She described the town house and immediately saw the couple exchange glances and nod. "Let's see it," Jay said. "I'd be a lot happier with a mortgage I could pay off in this lifetime."
"Since you're here, you've got to see upstairs. The master bedroom is my dream room."
While Julia showed Paige and Jay the rest of the upstairs, Gloria remained with Hailey in the big master bedroom, admiring the view of the backyard, the fireplace and the window seat. "What a beautiful room." She walked to the four-poster. "And the bed!"
"I know." Every time she was in this room Hailey experienced a sense of connection she couldn't understand. She'd simply come to accept it. She'd step into the room and immediately feel that it was somehow hers, her fantasies of her and Rob in that bed as vivid as though they were memories.
"Agnes Neeson was my English teacher in high school," Gloria remarked.
"Really? Was she a good teacher?"
"The best." She shook her head. "Her daughter was a real mess though. She dropped out of high school. Always in trouble. s.e.x, drugs and rock and roll. Poor Mrs. Neeson. It was really sad."
"That would be Rob's mother."
"The current owner?"
She nodded.
"How did he turn out?"
"He's... He's..." How to describe Rob? "He's a successful photojournalist. Works for World Week." Without thinking, she sat on the bed and Gloria joined her. "He's driven, ambitious, cares about people."
"Easy on the eyes."
"Oh, yeah."
"You two having s.e.x yet?"
"Gloria!"
"What? You think I don't know you almost as well as my own kids? You're crazy about the man. I can hear it in your voice."
"I've thought about it." She blew out a breath. "I can barely think about anything else. But there'd be no future."
"I've never known a woman who spent so much time worrying about the future as you do. Maybe you should try living for now a little more." The older woman drilled her with a gaze that was like Julia's only with more life experience. "Have you had s.e.x even once since your engagement broke up?"
She shook her head.
"Maybe it's time."
A shiver ran through her. Maybe it was.
"What if I fall in love with him and he breaks my heart?"
"You're doing it again. Forget the future and start living for today." She nudged Hailey with her elbow. "Or tonight."
Hailey knew herself too well to believe she could have an affair and not end up hurt. Maybe Gloria was right though. What if she indulged herself and Rob? Not for a long time, that could be dangerous.
But for a short time? Just to give in to the attraction that burned between them?
Could she play with fire and not get burned?
Maybe just one night.
THE LIGHTS WERE ON, as Rob had expected they'd be when he returned home from Beananza. Hailey always waited to tell him how her showing had gone. He liked to think she enjoyed their short visits as much as he did.
Remembering the door slam as he'd left, he called out, "Hi, honey. I'm home."
She came from the direction of the kitchen looking better than any Realtor should. He really wished she'd quit making them both wait for something she must know was inevitable.
Something seemed different about her. She glowed with suppressed excitement. With a sense of foreboding he prayed she wasn't going to present an offer on the house.
"How was the showing?"
"It wasn't right for them. Young couple with a child on the way. They need something smaller."
"Too bad," he said even as a feeling of relief slid through him.
If she hadn't sold his house, what was she looking so excited about?
"How's your leg?"
"Healing. Why?" He glanced at her with suspicion. "If you have some big-a.s.s box that needs moving or furniture to unload I have to remind you I'm the walking wounded."
"What if I want s.e.x?"
He was so dumbfounded he put all his weight on his bad leg and nearly went down. "What did you say?"
"It's a purely theoretical question. I was wondering whether you think your leg is strong enough for you to have s.e.x?"
"Yes." The answer was definite.
"Theoretically yes?"
"Let's-go-upstairs-and-rip-our-clothes-off yes."
Hailey was enjoying herself. It wasn't a big surprise he'd so enthusiastically said yes. In fact, she'd have been stunned if he hadn't, given the level of sizzle between them recently. But to have amazed him like that, to have seen the look on his face go from suspicious to knocked out, gave her a huge charge.
Gloria was right. She'd been too cautious, too scared to get hurt. Too worried about a future that she couldn't predict.
Even as she watched, congratulating herself on shocking him so completely, the expression in his eyes changed. From stunned to...speculative. He took a halting step closer. He wasn't leaning so heavily on the cane anymore. In fact he didn't use it unless he was going out. "I've been wanting to get you upstairs in that big bed since the first moment I saw you," he told her, lifting a hand and playing with the ends of her hair.
She snorted. "When you first saw me you weren't too happy. You tried to kick me out of the house."
"That's true. Doesn't mean I didn't want you in my bed. A man can think two things at once, you know." He traced his index finger up the line of her hair, sending shivers up and down her body. "Especially if one of them is about s.e.x."
He moved closer and she loved the feel of his warmth, his personal s.p.a.ce meshing with hers so you didn't know where one left off and the other began.
"Why the change of heart?" he wanted to know.
"The truth?"