On Common Ground (Harlequin Super Romance) (9 page)

The Mr. Rogers cop offered her another smile. “We’ll try to hurry it along as much as possible. Let’s go over to your car, and you can get the information for me. Then you can sit there and take it easy. We still have to talk to the other driver, and we need to put our report into the computer.”

Lilah swallowed. What choice did she have? None. She breathed in slowly, then walked back to the car and retrieved the necessary documentation. Then she sat.

And sat some more.

She pushed up the sleeve of her suit jacket and glanced at the time—again. This was no good. She was going to need someone else to go to the airport.

She dug in her shoulder bag on the front passenger seat for her cell phone and dialed Mimi’s number. After a few rings it went to voice mail.
Great!
They had planned to meet for dinner with her dad, so who knew where she was now. Still, it wasn’t like her not to pick up her phone.

Now what?
She sat back. Maybe she could leave her dad a message to call her when he got in? If necessary, she could ask him to take the train directly to Grantham Junction, then take a taxi into town. But she hated the idea of having him go through all that hassle.

The sun streamed in through the front windshield, and she could feel her face start to glow. She closed her eyes, and let herself bake. She should really take off her jacket, she thought, as she felt a bead of perspiration trickle down the middle of her chest and catch in the underwire of her bra. It was the only one she’d brought this weekend, and she needed to look presentable for her award. Her eyes still closed, she contorted to free one arm.

There was a knock on the window.

She stopped midsleeve and opened her eyes, expecting one of the policemen, hoping it was Mr. Rogers and not Rambo.

It was Justin.

She looked at the door to wind the window down, then realized it had an electric roll-down feature. She’d need to start the car to put it down, and she wasn’t sure she should do that given that she was supposed to just be sitting here. Probably Mr. Rogers wouldn’t mind, but Rambo? Her mind was turning uncharacteristically to mush.

She threw up her hands. “I can’t open lower the window without starting the car,” she mouthed silently.

Justin circumvented that problem by simply opening the door. “I leave you alone for a few minutes and look what happens?” he joked.

Lilah didn’t laugh. On the contrary, she did the last thing in the world she wanted to do.

She burst into tears.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“L
ET
ME
COME
AROUND
the other side to get out of the way of the traffic,” he said calmly, nodding at the oncoming stream of vehicles.

He circled the front of the car, opened the passenger door and slipped in the seat next to her. Without asking permission—without saying a word—he reached across and took her hand that lay limply in her lap. He pressed it gently as they sat in silence—he studying her, she squeezing her eyes and sniffing loudly to hold back any more tears.

“I told myself I wouldn’t cry. I never cry.” She wiped the back of her hand across her nose, then shook her head. “It’s so stupid, really. I mean, I don’t know why I’m so upset. I deal with stress all the time. Any given day I don’t know if I’m going to be able to pay my monthly rent or if Sisters for Sisters is going to suddenly collapse because the race that’s supposed to take place in Chicago in March gets snowed out. Then in Congo there’re marauding militias, or the endless red tape and needless bureaucracy. It normally doesn’t bother me.”

She stared at him. “So tell me. If I can do all that, why does a stupid fender bender get me all upset? I mean, it’s just a few pieces of metal—not even mine for that matter. So big deal. That’s what insurance’s for, right?”

He nodded.

“And even if I can’t get my father in time and I can’t get Mimi on the phone to pick him up instead, I know I can always contact him when he lands and explain, right?” She nodded as if agreeing with herself. “Right?”

“Right, most definitely right. He’ll just want to know you’re not hurt. You’re not hurt, are you?”

She shook her head and sniffed loudly.

Justin squeezed her hand again before letting go. Her vulnerability caught him off guard—touched something deep within. He was used to dealing with the hurt feelings and bruised egos of five-year-olds. He knew when to be patient. When to be understanding. Or when tough love was the better remedy.

But when it came to handling a grown-up—check that, a woman…the woman who had been for more than ten years the woman of his dreams, the same woman who now needed his help—he was less sure. Because he didn’t want to screw things up. He so much wanted to do the right thing because he sensed that whatever he chose to do could be really, really important.

Don’t blow it,
he lectured himself.

Then he took a deep breath. “I’m not necessarily the wisest person.” Heaven knows, his father had told him that daily as he was growing up. “But did it ever occur to you that you’re upset precisely because you
have
to handle all of that—all the big, important stuff under which most people crumble? And maybe, just maybe, this fender bender came along at a moment when too many things
had
accumulated, on top of little things like, I don’t know, jet lag and the stress of travel, things that leave most people comatose for a few days maybe?” He reached over and rubbed her slumped back with a gentle circular motion.

She looked up from her hands and slanted her gaze at him. “Not wise? I don’t know about that. Is this a new phenomenon, or were you always just hiding it beneath all that charisma and sex appeal?” She peered at him.

Now he
knew
he was going to blow it.

“Okay, so the superwoman has finally crashed to earth,” she mocked herself. “So, tell me, if it’s okay for me to fall apart after a fender bender, is it also all right for me to be upset that I won’t be there on time to pick up my father? It looks like the police still have to do their paperwork, and that’s
after
they talk to the guy who hit me, who I am sure is now making up some scurrilous story—”

“Scurrilous?” Justin asked.

“Yes, scurrilous.” She sniffed. “It means fake.”

“Yes, I know what it means. It’s just that I can’t say that I’ve ever heard it used in conversation.”

She frowned. “Now, on top of everything, you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

Justin shook his head. “Of course not. I would never make fun of you. It’s just that I had forgotten how you had this very…very…rich vocabulary.”

“It comes from being an only child and growing up on an island. I read a lot of books. It was that or sail or take up knitting, and since I never had highly developed small—let alone large—motor skills, I picked reading. I merely had to turn pages. It seemed safer.”

He bit back a smile and the sudden impulse to take her in his arms. Instead, he enjoyed the warm glow that permeated his being and which had nothing to do with the sun beating through the car windows—though it was incredibly hot in the car.

Lilah cocked her head and stared at him.

Justin held his breath.

She wet her lips.

For Justin, the air molecules in the car seemed to stand still. The only noise was the whizzing of traffic outside and the occasional honk of a car horn. Not to mention the violent thumping of his own heart.

Finally, she broke eye contact to glance down at her watch.

Justin kept looking at her, feeling a little light-headed, but aware that air was beginning to return to his lungs.

Lilah nervously shook her hand with the watch, sighed and then stared blankly around the dashboard, out the side window, at her feet—anywhere but at Justin, it seemed. “To make matters worse, I’m not having any luck getting ahold of Mimi to go to the airport instead of me. And even if I could, I’m so out of it that I can’t remember off the top of my head which airline my dad was taking. So in the end, there’s really no point in trying to track her down because I’d have to dig through my bags for the relevant information to give her.” She rubbed her forehead in frustration. “I’m rambling. Sorry.”

“Tell you what. Let me pick him up. You can call him when he lands to alert him. I’ll even hold up one of those signs, all very professional,” he joked. He bent his head to get her attention and help her out of her funk.

“Oh, I don’t know…”

He placed a fingertip under her lowered chin and tipped her head up. “I’m happy to do it. Really.” He could feel her pulse fluttering through her skin.

She swallowed. “If it’s not too much trouble?” She swallowed again.

“No trouble at all,” he assured her. “In fact, if I hadn’t stopped off to buy some groceries at the Shop Rite, I never would have seen your car pulled over. I would have felt horrible not knowing that you were stranded out here. So, please—” he leaned closer “—let me help. It’s the least I can do under the circumstances.”

She tightened her lips around her teeth and finally nodded.

As she did so, he could feel the pressure on his finger under her chin. He could feel a lot more, as well. He swallowed. “So, if you’re sure you can handle all this?” He nodded toward the police car parked ahead.

She nodded.

Again the pressure. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I’m sure it will be fine. I mean, I took out all the insurance. The car looks perfectly drivable—a few scratches and dings—but I figure I just take it back to the rental office as soon as I’m through here. And that will be it.”

“Absolutely,” he added with a decisive nod.

“You’re right. I’ll be okay.” She nodded back.

He stared at her, unblinking for a good ten seconds, then satisfied that she was calm enough to drive, he reluctantly removed his finger from under her chin. Maybe he should be more worried about his own emotional state?

He reached around to the car door. “So you’ll call your dad?”

“I will. But hold on. I’ll get you the details, otherwise how will you know what terminal to go to?”

“You forget. I have the flight information on my handy-dandy phone.”

“That’s right. I did forget all about that.” She reached out and placed her hand on his sleeve. “I wanted… What I mean to say…” She pursed her lips. “I realize that I haven’t thanked you.” She waved vaguely around the car. “For everything really. I wasn’t myself just now, maybe not since I’ve arrived.”

So, the old Lilah really is still there,
Justin’s inner voice sounded in jubilation.

“And I know I haven’t said it. But, I always remember you as being helpful. So natural with people.”

His pulse started thumping along at an accelerated clip.

She grasped his sleeve more firmly. “This is terrible.”

“It is?”
It is?

“I mean, this is the worst time and all to decide to say this. I mean, you’re in a rush and all, doing me a favor.”

He shook his head. “There’s plenty of time.”
Time? What’s time?

Lilah pursed her lips and winced as if in pain.

Not a good sign, Justin worried.

“You see, it’s like this. I’m attracted to you—the old you, the party-boy you.” Lilah looked at him with desperation.

Justin tried not to say the wrong thing. “And that’s bad?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s good. But I’m also attracted to you—the new you, that is, the current you. The caring teacher. The guy who loves kids.”

“Well, not some days. I could tell you—”

“Don’t interrupt, okay?”

“If you say so.”

“I say so. Where was I?” She cocked her head in thought.

“The new, improved me—if that’s all right to say?”

“Yes, that’s right. The new, enlightened though vulnerable you.”

“And that combination’s good, right?” He wanted to get it straight.

She shook her head violently. “No, that’s bad. Very bad. Because if I were to have sex with the
old
you, it would be meaningless and maybe even revenge sex for all the obvious reasons. But if I go to bed with the
new
you it would involve this emotional component that could potentially make the whole thing significant, even lasting.”

He frowned. “Now I’m completely baffled. Could you just go back to the sex part? My brain kind of stopped with that one word.”

“Arghh!” Lilah threw up her hands. “Don’t you get it? Things are too unsettled.
I’m
too mixed up with my life, my goals, to get involved,
really
involved, with anyone right now.”

“Hold it. Are you telling me that you’re just not that into me, or whatever the appropriate breakup line is in women’s magazines?”

“Do I look like the type of woman who reads women’s magazines, let alone has time?” Lilah shook her head. “I can’t deal with this. My lack of certainty about where I am. My impressions of you today versus my memories of you before. Besides, you really do need to go get my father.”

Justin forced himself to wait a beat or two before responding. “I don’t like to leave this discussion hanging—and it’s not over, not by a long shot. But for now, let’s just say I recognize my cue.” He pushed down on the handle and cracked open the door. The noise from the cars speeding by assaulted them. He lowered one leg to the pavement and got out. But before he closed the door, he lowered his head and stared at her a moment. “You’ve got my cell phone number if you need to reach me?”

She nodded.

He grasped the car door. “One thing before I go.”

“What?”

He held himself still. “You know, while you’re sitting here trying to figure out what you think of the new me and the old me, you might also try asking yourself where the old you has gone.”