Package Deal (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

T
he acrid odor of burning food stung Kelly’s nose. “Oh, no,” she groaned, dropped the cold washrag pressed to her swollen eyelid and ran into the kitchen. Snatching the pot from the red-hot burner, she lifted the lid and cursed her stupidity for leaving the temperature on high.

Too late. Pungent smoke curled around the edge of the lid, filling the kitchen in seconds. Kelly switched on the overhead fan, removed the lid, and dropped it into the sink, eyeing the pan’s contents with despair. She was no gourmet cook, but one look told her the peas were goners. Shriveled and burned, they resembled a handful of BBs, and were very possibly welded to the bottom of the pan forever.

“Why tonight?” She shook her head at her incompetence.

She covered the pan and
placed it in the sink then opened the kitchen window to air out the unpleasant smoke.

“Mommy? What’s that ter’ble smell?”

Kelly smiled at her daughter, whose nose wrinkled with disgust.

“Pee-yoo! I’m not eating those.”

“Neither am I,” Kelly said and laughed. “Mommy’s coming unglued. I almost burned our dinner.”

Concern shadowed Lacy’s face. “So we can’t eat now? I’m hungry,” she whined.

“I only burned the peas, honey. Everything else is ready.”

Relieved, Lacy shrugged. “I hate peas anyway.” She ambled back to her bedroom to resume her play.

In San Francisco, Kelly had often prepared meals for as many as twenty people and never burned a single roll. With her mother so far away, she and Jill had coordinated holiday meals, inviting friends and neighbors to share mounds of turkey and stuffing with all the trimmings. She had always enjoyed cooking and entertaining, and seemed a natural at it—until today, when those elaborate occasions seemed like someone else’s memories.

Anticipating the worst, she opened the oven and peered inside. The roast was golden brown, cooked to perfection. She closed the door and leaned against the counter, gazing out the window past the smudge of raindrops.

She’d invited a man to dinner. No little thing after being alone for six years. Beyond nervous, her stomach pitched and her temples throbbed. She was worried about everything—the meal, her appearance, Lacy’s behavior. Steve was due in ten minutes, and so far she had stubbed her toe, pulled out several eyelashes when her lash curler got stuck, and now she’d burned the peas. Not as she’d planned, but things could be worse. She laughed out loud, knowing she needed to mellow out. She’d wanted the evening to be perfect. She heaved a sigh, admitting life was never perfect. And that was okay.

Outside, a steady rain fell from a leaden sky, tap dancing gently on the roof. Even though it wasn’t the Florida sunshine she’d expected, the gray day and the rich, satisfying smell of roast pork and baked rhubarb pie soothed her body and mind.

Tonight was the first time in years Kelly had invited a man to dinner—no trivial occasion. The situation warranted a margarita just to bolster her courage enough to answer the door. Nerves, anticipation, sexual tension all played games with her mind and body. Her stomach churned while the memory of their kiss made her lightheaded.

She removed the pitcher of frozen margaritas from the freezer, took a glass from the cabinet and filled it. Tossing her head back, she swallowed a continuous flow of the icy, alcoholic slush until she got a brain freeze.

“Ow-w!” Dropping the glass to the counter, she pressed her hands to her temples. When the pain faded, she bent over giggling. She hadn’t done that to herself in years, not with a slushy or a Margarita. She wasn’t a big drinker of either.

“Whew!” The concoction was a little strong. The tequila spread through her limbs with soothing warmth. Why was she so nervous? After all, it was only dinner. Right?

Wrong.

This was more than a casual dinner. She’d made a trip to the drugstore and come home with a small brown bag, the contents of which she’d stuffed under her pillow, just in case her heart won out over her head tonight.

In the past week, her encounters with Steve had progressed until Thursday night’s collision. Last night, after the movie, she’d feigned exhaustion and asked him to leave, but she didn’t believe she could resist his charms much longer. Thus, the brown bag. She hadn’t let a man in her kitchen or her life since her divorce. She’d invited Steve into both, and she was doing her usual flip-flop routine today, like pulling daisy pedals.
He loves me, he loves me not. I want him, I want him not.
The difference tonight being she kept flipping back to Steve.

Her
thoughts flashed back to Thursday night when she and Steve had stood together at the front door, just moments after sharing a heated embrace cut short by her hesitancy. She had felt like a virgin again. Nervous, indecisive, filled with expectancy. She’d sensed he struggled with similar feelings—not his virginity of course. Time had seemed to hold still, their lips drawn toward one another’s as if they’d been chewing their way along a single piece of bubble gum strung between them. Almost adolescent. No sudden moves, just a slow magnetic pull tugging them closer, inch-by-inch until their lips met in a clash of sparks.

How funny they must have looked. Despite an involuntary shiver, Kelly laughed out loud. Again, it was Steve who had broken the embrace, not her. He always seemed more in control than she was. All the more reason to be nervous now.

Following her divorce, when the pain of separation had been fresh, she’d had no trouble remaining aloof and avoiding relationships. But as the pain had faded, a time when she might have been steered back into the flow of humanity, she’d resolved to keep her life simple, safe from loss and pain, and free of entanglement. It hadn’t seemed such a huge undertaking at the time.

Now and then, she had dated. No fireworks, no messy entanglements, and no regrets. It seemed so simple. But now she realized she’d been living a fairy tale. She was no longer strong or resolved, but instead she was confused. Could she be in love? The thought scared her to death.

She took another box of peas from the freezer. For a moment, the task of coordinating a simple meal of pork roast, sauerkraut, peas and mashed potatoes seemed overwhelming.

She fired up her second attempt at peas and rushed back to her bedroom to change her clothes before Steve arrived. Just once, she wanted to look nice for him. Somehow, he always caught her semi-dressed at best, although it hadn’t seemed to deter him any. She wondered if he would even notice a difference tonight.

Back in her bedroom, she stole a glimpse in the mirror. The swelling on her eyelid had gone down, the damage minimal with only a few lashes missing. She slipped into a pair of black leggings and a teal tunic draped softly at the neckline, finishing with a black belt and a dab of lotion at her elbows. A chuckle escaped her throat. She’d never given a damn about her elbows before. Feeling frivolous, she dabbed some behind her ears. The scent was unusual but not overpowering, a delicate sweet and spicy fragrance extracted from carnations. Almost impossible to find, Kelly had hoarded it for special occasions. Tonight fell into the special category.

She rummaged through her jewelry box and selected a pair of silver earrings with a single turquoise stone in each, and a matching bracelet she’d bought on a writing assignment in Phoenix. Not wanting to appear over dressed for dinner in her own kitchen, she pulled on a pair of soft leather scuffs she wore around the house.

While she checked her image in the mirror, examining the reflection for obvious flaws, the doorbell rang. Kelly froze, her pulse-rate jumped. God, she hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake.
I should have consulted Waldo—
her personal astrologist—
before making any decisions
.

She had the crazy sensation she walked a tightrope, and if she answered the door to let him in, her life might change forever, following a new, uncharted course.
A risky course.
There were no guarantees, and she found that troubling. She could be in for more pain, another loss, and further disappointment. If she told him to leave, their attempt at a relationship had all been a mistake, she would be left alone, and her life would go on as before.

The doorbell rang again, and Lacy yelled from the other room, “I’m getting it, Mommy!”

“Mirror mirror on the wall…what do I feel?” In the mirror, her features creased with consternation.
Jill!
Her thoughts reached out to her friend on the opposite coast. What would Jill tell her? Three thousand miles between them and nothing came to mind. She spun away from the mirror, searching for an honest answer within herself, a simple statement that would put an end to all her conflict.

I’m trying, Jill. I really am
. Did it really matter if Steve ended up being a jerk? “Do I want Lacy to grow up thinking all men are undependable and unnecessary members of a female superior society?” It sounded pretty radical once she’d said it out loud.

“Come on, Kelly. What’s really inside?” she whispered.

Pulling the truth from down deep where she’d stuffed it was no easy thing. Time was running out, and she would have to dig fast. S
teve was already in the living room talking to Lacy.

“No.” The word flew off her lips and with it, years of emotional barriers cracked and crumbled.

Steve and Lacy’s
laughter echoed from the other room, while Kelly worked up a cold sweat in front of the mirror.

“All men are not the same.” She’d been protecting herself from pain all along. Jill had told her more than once that she was taking the risk
-free way through life by avoiding men altogether.

Well, self-
preservation was fine, but she had Lacy to think about, and the reality of her recent feelings for Steve to face. Her interest in him was impossible to ignore, and Kelly wouldn’t let her fear control her daughter’s future, much less her own.

She would give it a shot.

Having made her decision, butterflies took flight in her stomach, reminding her of the first time she’d dropped two hundred dollars from savings on a game table in Vegas. People did it all the time, but she had been scared. Well…she’d won then. Maybe she would come out a winner this time.

With a nervous swallow, she returned to the living room. “Lacy, have you kept Steve entertained?” She tried to appear calm, wishing in the back of her busy mind she had a candy cigarette to still the slow tremor rumbling inside.

Steve sat on the couch. “I came bearing gifts.”

While he showed Lacy the package he’d brought her, his gaze swept toward Kelly. The glow lighting his eyes told her he had noticed her efforts. It pleased her, further exciting her already jangled nerves.

She recalled the second time she’d seen him. She’d been dragging his
stupid suitcase across the airport lobby when she’d spotted him. His eyes had lit up, and at the time, they’d reminded her of green traffic signals. Then, she’d kept walking, but now she gave him the signal to go. She smiled and moved to the couch to stand beside him.

“You look great as usual, McCarthy.”

“Compliment returned, Pearson.”

She grinned, her heart knocking against her breastbone. His smile disarmed her. She’d seen faces like his on the cover of
GQ
magazine, but it had been a long time since she’d had a handsome man in her living room.

“Everyone rested and healthy?” he asked.

“We’re great,” she said.

Taking her hand, Steve tugged her down beside him and nuzzled her neck. “Something smells good.”

Obviously, the last couple of nights had affected him, too. “Dinner,” she told him.

“Oh.”
 
He feigned disappointment. “I thought it was you.”

She pushed him away playfully. “I hope you’re into simple home cooking because I’ve been dying for plain old mashed potatoes. I’ve swallowed enough junk food in the last few weeks to open my own fast food restaurant.”