Just One Week (11 page)

“Pancakes up soon,” Mom said.

Michelle rose from her seat. “Oh, no, you don’t. It’s time for you to sit down.”

“This’ll just take a minute.”

“Kyle and I will do that for you.” Michelle nudged her brother. “Won’t we?”

Kyle looked surprised for a second and then gave his sister a smile and got up, too. “Sure, we will. Mickey and I have made pancakes lots of times.”

Crap. Kyle still thought of his accomplished, beautiful sister as a kid. And Alex had had sex with her.

“Let them do it, Emma,” Dad said. “You’ve been working too hard.”

“All right.” Mom relinquished the pancake turner to Michelle. “Just be sure to heat the syrup.”

“I know where it is,” Kyle said as he went to the cupboard.

Mom finally sat next to Dad, and when Kyle put a mug of coffee in front of her, she wrapped her arm around Dad’s. “It’s good to have all the kids home.”

Except it wouldn’t last long. Alex would have to report to camp in a month or so. Kyle’s winery wasn’t far off. But Michelle’s job—either the current one or the one she wanted—would take her far away. When he next saw her, she’d be Professor Dennis, someone who didn’t have time for him.

Still, for a moment, he could watch her at the stove. He could pretend they were together and she was making his breakfast. Or he could imagine doing the cooking and taking pancakes to her in bed. They could share, getting the syrup in places it didn’t belong.

Dangerous fantasies. And damn it all, he didn’t seem to have the power to control them.

…

How did you make a few days last forever? Michelle had only that long before she’d have to return to her real world and leave her brief affair with Alex behind. Oh, sure, she’d see him again, but things wouldn’t be the same. She’d managed to seduce him—a real victory of sorts. But she hadn’t made him trust her enough to share secrets with her.

She almost had to marvel at that. She’d managed sexy and seductive, but somehow trustworthy eluded her. Even with someone she’d been so close to years ago.

One normally didn’t ponder such things while lying half-dressed on a massage table as a stranger’s fingers did wonderful things to the kinks in one’s back. But Emma lay on the table next to hers getting the same treatment. Their spa day together. Emma’s treat.

Of course, she’d had to remove the scarf from around her neck, and Emma had seen the mark Alex had put there during their lovemaking. Emma hadn’t said anything…yet…but she’d managed to gloat without words all the same.

“Oh, that feels good.” Emma groaned her approval. “I had no idea planning a party could be so much work.”

“A party like yours?” Michelle said. “Of course it’s a big deal.”

“I hired people to do the work. Why don’t they just do it and leave me alone?”

“I’m here to help. We’ll get everything done.”

“Liane will be coming up from the city, too.” Emma chuckled as if having Liane around—whoever she was—held more significance than another pair of hands.

“Liane?” Michelle said.

“Jim’s personal assistant.”

“What happened to Yolanda?” Hard to picture Jim without his long-time coworker. She’d been his right hand.

The person working on Michelle placed her thumbs at the base of Michelle’s skull and worked the muscles of her neck. Who would have thought you could hold tension there?

“Yolanda retired. She’ll be at the party, but we’re not letting her do any work,” Emma said. “He promoted another young woman. She’s very competent.”

Why Liane’s competence should make Emma chuckle was a mystery.

“She runs rings around Chase,” Emma said.

Mystery solved. More of Emma’s matchmaking. This Liane must be something if she could get the upper hand with Chase. That could be fun to watch. “I’ve never seen Chase off balance.”

“He’s met his match with her. I want my sons to be happy, but it’ll take the right kind of woman with Chase,” Emma said. “Someone who won’t put up with his crap.”

Michelle couldn’t help but laugh, but it came out more like a hoot. Emma never used words like crap. She hardly ever said anything stronger than “darn.” She had her second son pretty well pegged.

“Jim and I aren’t getting any younger,” Emma said. “It’s about time we had grandchildren to spoil.”

Oh, dear. Michelle should have seen this coming. Emma and Jim loved children so much they’d never want to be true empty nesters. But if Emma was expecting Michelle and Alex to give her a grandchild, she’d be sorely disappointed.

“Emma, I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

“I don’t think I have.” Emma turned her head to face Michelle and her gaze fell on the spot Alex had marked. “I can give you some makeup to cover that.”

Michelle’s skin heated over her face to the roots of her hair. Because Emma hadn’t said anything until now, Michelle had hoped they wouldn’t have to discuss the events of the night before. No such luck, apparently.

“You two thought you were being so clever meeting in the middle of the night,” Emma went on. “You know the expression that mothers have eyes in the backs of their heads?”

“Everyone does.”

“Well, I have ears there, and I heard Alex moving around. And then, this morning, his bed looked exactly the same as when he’d snuck out of the house in the wee hours.”

“I…we…that is, Alex and I…” Michelle’s face got even hotter, if that was possible.

“You needn’t be embarrassed,” Emma said. “Jim and I weren’t virgins on our wedding night.”

“There isn’t going to be a wedding night.” There, she’d said it out loud. The relationship, if you could even call it that, had no future.

“Of course, I don’t want to rush you two into anything.”

“There isn’t anything to rush,” Michelle said. “We’re just friends whose hormones ran away with us.”

“There isn’t anything better than friends becoming life partners. The first flush of romance only lasts so long. Then you have to be able to like and trust one another.”

Trust? Michelle could have screamed. Alex didn’t trust her, and if he didn’t, how could she trust him? Even if she tried liking him, he’d disappoint her by dating his usual type of woman as soon as he got back to New York.

She’d always been spectacularly unsuccessful with men. Unpopular in school, she’d hardly dated. Over the years, she’d been too brainy to attract dates. Could anyone picture her as an NFL wife, with all the beauty and glamour that involved? Seriously? Alex needed a different kind of woman, and he’d find her.

“I want you to be happy, too, dear,” Emma said. “And there’s no better man alive than my Alex.”

“I know that.” Did she ever. That didn’t mean she was the right woman for him.

“Everything will work out for the best,” Emma said.

Of course Emma would say that. She’d had such a good life with Jim, obviously destined to spend the rest of their lives together. They must have had some shaky times in their relationship, but they’d never questioned whether they should be together.

As they’d talked, and as the thoughts had spun around in Michelle’s mind, the masseuse had moved down her body and now was working on her feet. She tugged at Michelle’s toes, separating them and creating and releasing tension.

“All done,” the masseuse said.

Michelle sat up, wrapping the bath sheet around her as she did. Emma was doing the same, and soon the staff members led them to a different room where a snack of sparkling water and fresh fruit had been laid out. They took seats in recliners near each other and ate strawberries and slices of honeydew melon. A waterfall in the corner of the room was surrounded by plants and lit by full-spectrum fluorescents. All very peaceful.

“So, when do you think you’ll hear about the university job?” Emma asked.

“Hard to tell. It could be as early as tomorrow or it could be weeks.” If she wasn’t their first choice, they’d negotiate with people they wanted more. Unsuccessful candidates wouldn’t hear for some time that they hadn’t gotten the job. If she was to receive good news, it would come soon.

“It’ll keep you busy, won’t it?” Emma said.

“Insanely.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have a husband.”

For most people. Michelle hadn’t found much so far. But maybe for a minute, she could imagine a different way. She could pretend Emma was her mother-in-law and they had spa days regularly. During the NFL season, she could work like crazy on weekdays and spend weekends with Alex. He could live with her at Cardmouth the rest of the time. They could make regular visits to Sonoma to see his parents—her in-laws.

“If you and Alex were to become serious about each other, we could see you more often,” Emma said.

“We can do that, anyway.” But Michelle’s imagination didn’t drum up images of friendly visits for old time’s sake. Instead, it played the scenario of a wedding at Kyle’s winery with a mariachi playing at the reception. A rehearsal dinner in the patio and yard where the anniversary/birthday party would take place. Jittery nerves for all the good reasons, and Alex to act as her rock throughout. Every woman’s dream. Surely she could indulge in the fantasy without causing harm.

“In any case, you won’t be staying away another eight years,” Emma said.

“No.” One way or another, she wouldn’t lose Jim and Emma again.

Another staff member entered the room carrying a tray full of what looked like ointments and lotions. “Ready for your facials, ladies?”

“Indeed, we are,” Emma said.

Michelle lay back and closed her eyes while the woman applied a rose-scented paste to her skin. And her mind let her imagine this was her normal life and not a visit that would end soon, not to be repeated.

Chapter Eight

Alex’s father had corralled all the men into the kitchen, sat them down around the table, and declared they’d all have to pitch in to help with the party while the women enjoyed a day of rest and relaxation at the spa. Alex would do what he could, of course, but his skill set didn’t include flowers and food. Maybe he could help with music.

Kyle looked as uncomfortable as Alex felt while Chase produced a yellow-lined pad and started organizing.

“Let’s break this down by category into tasks,” Chase said. “Things we can check off as done and others we can split up and get done.”

“I’ve got wine,” Kyle volunteered.

“We’ll need champagne and soft drinks, too,” Jim said.

“Put me down for those, too,” Kyle said. “Write it on your list, Chase.”

Chase made entries for all that under “drinks” and set Kyle’s name next to those items.

“Dad, what if Mom’s already ordered this stuff?” Alex asked. “Shouldn’t we wait until she gets home to ask her?”

“We’re not leaving this all up to your mother.” His father tapped an index finger against the table. “I want to show her the men can accomplish something, too.”

The whole exercise was pointless. No one in their right mind—man or woman—would wait until the last minute to order drinks. Mom had to have done it, and they’d only be duplicating her efforts. On the other hand, if they ordered too much, it would all get used eventually. Kyle really did have the wine part covered.

“I’ll call the local suppliers and see if Emma’s placed any orders,” Kyle said. Problem solved, but they were still duplicating Mom’s work.

“Okay, flowers,” his father said. “Who wants to take that one?”

Alex held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”

“She has to have arranged for that already,” Chase said. “It’s too late to do it now.”

“Put me down for that,” Dad said. “I’ll call the local florists.”

“You know, Dad, this is a lot of work for no reason,” Chase said.

“We’ll see about that,” Dad said.

The front doorbell rang, and his father’s eyes got a wicked twinkle.

“Reinforcements,” he said.

When his father left the room, Alex glanced at the other two. “Any idea what he’s talking about?”

“Not a clue,” Kyle said.

“I hope not,” Chase added as he doodled on the pad in front of him.

Dad returned in a minute, and he had someone with him. Liane Franklin, his personal assistant from the publishing house. She’d met the family a few times. The rest of them rose to greet her.

“Ta-da,” Dad declared. “Help has arrived.”

A petite redhead with intense green eyes, Liane no doubt got attention, and masculine interest, wherever she went. Kyle gave her his usual uncomplicated smile, but Chase pasted a neutral, professional expression on his face.

“Liane,” he said.

“Hi, Chase,” she answered.

“You know Alex,” Dad said. “You’ve met Kyle?”

“You bet.” Kyle vacated his chair in Liane’s favor, and they all sat again. Chase went back to doodling.

“We’re trying to get things organized for the party,” his father explained.

Liane’s eyebrows shot up. “Surely, you didn’t think you could wait until now.”

“Chase thinks Mom’s already done it all,” Alex said.

“He’s right,” Liane said.

That got Chase’s attention, and he glanced up from his yellow pad. “I am?”

“You’re right…some of the time,” she answered.

Alex almost laughed but covered it with a cough. “Some of the time” left a lot of opportunity for Chase to be wrong, and that did not fit with Chase’s self-image. What would happen when Dad retired? Would Chase inherit Liane as his assistant?

“What do you suggest?” Dad asked.

“There’s still plenty to do.” Liane reached into her bag and produced her tablet computer. “Let’s look at the spreadsheet Emma sent me.”

“Spreadsheets.” His father looked up toward the heavens. “My wife does spreadsheets.”

“I’ll teach you how to do them,” Liane said.

“Waste of time,” his father said. “Teach Chase.”

“I know how to do spreadsheets, Dad,” Chase said.

“Is that one in front of you?” Alex said. He shouldn’t pile on, but needling his little brother felt good. Chase normally dished it out. See if he could take it.

“
Touché
.” Chase pushed the pad away from him. “Should we start assigning jobs or sit here flapping our gums?”

The back door opened, and Mom and Michelle entered. Each carried small bags from the spa. Alex’s heart did its half-stop thing at the sight of Michelle. Her dark hair framed her face, shining with golden highlights. Her peasant blouse looked innocent enough, but it hinted at movement and curves beneath. The material appeared soft, and he could picture it under his palms. Lord, what she did to him just walking into a room.

“There you are, Liane.” Mom went to Liane and bent to give her a hug. “Are you keeping them in line?”

“Doing my best, Emma,” Liane answered.

“Oh, you have my spreadsheet. Good. They’d be hopelessly lost without you,” Mom said.

“Dad and I run a company,” Chase said. “We can organize a party.”

“Of course, you can, dear.” Mom’s indulgent smile said exactly the opposite, and she was probably right. “I’m going to start dinner.”

“I’ll help,” Michelle said.

Mom gestured toward the table. “Sit. They need more help than I do.”

Michelle did as Mom had ordered, and of course, she ended up next to Alex. This close to her, the urge to touch her became almost overwhelming. The spa must have used some kind of musky perfume or ointment on her because she smelled like sex. A crazy-assed way to think of a scent, but it must have had pheromones in it. If driving a guy nuts with perfume was their goal, they’d succeeded. Pretty soon, his reaction would get embarrassing if he didn’t get himself under control.

“…drive into town to pick up the flowers,” Liane was saying. “How about you, Alex?”

“Hm?” He dragged his attention back to the others.

His father cleared his throat. “Would you like to take the SUV into town to the florist?”

“Sure thing.” He could handle that as long as they’d already ordered the arrangements. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Liane said. “I’ll call to confirm with them today.”

“Got it.”

“Take Michelle. She hasn’t seen Wheeler’s Mill yet,” his father said.

“I was there today at the spa,” Michelle said.

“You go along, anyway,” his mother said from the counter where she was making a salad. “I don’t trust men with flowers.”

“Happy to,” Michelle answered.

More matchmaking. No problem. He could use the help. Besides, the more time he spent with Michelle the more opportunities to figure out exactly what was going on between them.

“Wine, flowers, caterers,” Chase said. “What else?”

As if to answer Chase’s question, the front doorbell rang. Kyle got up to answer it, and in a minute, he reappeared leading three men in jeans and T-shirts pushing large boxes on wheels. Sound equipment.

“Music,” he declared. “And the PA system. Where should it go?”

“The barn for now. I’ll show you.” His father rose and led them out the back door.

That left them at the table with Chase and Liane. She was busy typing on her tablet, and Chase watched her every move with the same concentration Alex had on Michelle. They definitely had chemistry going on there, even if his brother would deny it.

In the meantime, his own libido had fixed itself on the woman next to him. By any calculation, hours would pass before they could retreat to the cottage. How was he supposed to convince his body to wait that long?

Michelle glanced up at him from under her lashes, mischief in the dark depths of her eyes. Just what he needed—a come-hither look when he was doing his best to behave himself. His mother stood only feet away. She might have put them together, but she wouldn’t appreciate him bending Michelle over the kitchen table and…

Crap. He’d never do anything like that, so why was he thinking it?

“I want to show you something,” Michelle said.

“Okay.”

She jerked her head toward the door to the front of the house. Liane glanced up from her tablet. “Chase and I can handle this for a while.”

“Hm?” Chase said, exactly as Alex had a few minutes earlier. Definitely distracted.

“Come on.” Michelle rose.

Alex got up, too. He’d been commanded, more or less. “We’ll be back.”

“Take your time,” his mother said. “Dinner won’t be for a while.”

Feeling the way he did, Alex would have followed Michelle into a tornado and not noticed the wind. She gave him a heated smile that sent his blood pressure even higher. When she headed toward the stairs leading to the floors above—and the bedrooms—his sex almost did a happy dance in his pants. Was her mind in the same delicious gutter his was?

He hung back to watch the swing of her buttocks as she climbed the stairs. If he’d thought her blouse was a turn-on, the motions of her skirt made him want to cover her butt with his hands and squeeze.

She glanced over her shoulder and caught him staring, and she bit her lip, reminding him of the sweetness of her mouth. She had to know what that would do to him. A man could only stand so much before he had to act.

So, he caught up to her on the tiny landing where the stairs did a turn. Heaven help him, he pushed her up against the wall and kissed her, pressing his body against hers. With a moan into his mouth, she wrapped her arms around him and answered his need with heat of her own.

He’d never felt this sense of urgency about lovemaking in the past. As if he’d die if he couldn’t have her
now
. An overwhelming need to kiss every inch of her filled him, and he bent to caress her neck from her shoulder up to the spot behind her ear.

Her fingers worked the buttons on his shirt. “I’ve wanted you all day.”

“Outside to the cottage,” he murmured against her skin.

“Too many people out there,” she said.

She was right. They could close all the curtains they wanted, but Jim and the folks with the PA equipment had gone out back and might hear them.

“Too many people in here,” he whispered.

“We’ll be quiet.”

“I don’t know about you, baby, but I’m not sure I can be
that
quiet.”

“You’ll have to be.” She took his hand. “Come on.”

When they got to the top of the stairs, she led him toward his room. The bed in there was smaller than the one in the cottage, but at this point, he’d be happy for any horizontal surface.

Once they got into his room, all the mementos of his childhood stared back at him. Other than getting a bed that would hold his adult frame—barely—his mother hadn’t changed anything in here since high school. Banners from his team hung on the wall over the old desk where he’d done his homework. Or tried to. Bookshelves held his trophies for football and wrestling.

Michelle stood and gaped at it all. “Nothing’s changed.”

“Something has. We grew up.” He went to her and took her into an embrace. Maybe she couldn’t make love surrounded by their past. He’d wait, somehow, until the people had cleared out of the back yard and they could sneak away to the cottage. They might have to miss dinner.

“It’s kind of wicked doing the deed here,” she said, but her smile said she wouldn’t mind one little bit. “Is that okay?”

“Baby, I’d make love to you anytime, anywhere.” To prove his point, he kissed her again, and all the trappings of his youth disappeared. Nothing existed except this moment in time with this woman. She responded as she always did—as if he were the greatest lover in the world and she couldn’t wait to have him inside her. Nothing could get him hotter faster, and soon, he was tearing at her clothes. The blouse came off and then her bra. He sent that flying somewhere and cupped her breasts.

When she whimpered, he pressed his lips to her ear. “Quiet, remember?”

“Sure, sure. Just hurry,” she whispered.

They fumbled with each other’s clothing, arms tangling, while he continued kissing her as if his life depended on it. Every brush of her knuckles against the front of his pants sent his arousal up another notch. If he didn’t get her out of her skirt in another second he’d bust the zipper of his fly, he was that hard. When he had her naked, he could reach between her legs to touch her most intimate flesh. She was already wet for him, and when he teased her hottest spot, she trembled and bit down on her lip to stifle a moan. She needed this as much as he did, and the knowledge warmed him. He’d make it good for her. He’d be inside her when she shattered, and he’d feel her orgasm all around him.

Somehow, they got all their clothes off—even shoes—and they could stretch out on the bed. Immediately, they wrapped around each other, their limbs twined like ivy. The scent he’d detected earlier came through more clearly now—an aphrodisiac cloud that invaded his brain. She smelled good, she tasted good, and she felt even better as she moved beneath him. He was drowning, and he might never come up for air.

As he kissed her, probing the seam of her lips with his tongue, her hands roamed over his back. Her nails scratched him. Maybe leaving marks. Who the hell cared?

When her mouth opened, he searched for her tongue with his own. The connection sent a jolt through him, shaking him to his core. He needed to make her ready because he wouldn’t be gentle. She’d driven him too far for that.

Shifting, he slid his hand along her inner thigh, upward toward her center. She let her legs fall apart in encouragement, and for the moment, he broke off the kiss so he could concentrate on her pleasure. Resting his head on her shoulder, he explored her with his fingers. She’d become even wetter, and her sex parted to welcome him. He stroked her from back to front, each time landing on her clit. And every time he touched her there, she let out a stifled cry. Poor baby. She’d become as excited as he was, and she had to keep quiet. He’d face the same challenge in a few minutes.

After a moment, she reached down and stilled his hand. “Your turn.”

What could she possibly mean by that? He didn’t need any help.

She pushed on his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. Whatever she had in mind had better involve him getting inside her soon. But no, she gripped his shaft and scooted downward.