Reunion for the First Time (7 page)

“Well college isn’t for everyone,” Kay concluded. “Is anyone going to order dessert? I have to have a piece of that mile high chocolate cake.”

Kay signaled the waitress and asked for the cake. “I’m not sharing. If you guys want some you have to order your own.” She looked pointedly at Mick.

“No takers here.” Beth eased back in her chair and groaned. “I’m so stuffed I can’t eat another bite.”

Jack liked the way Beth smiled as Kay dug into a mound of chocolate butter cream.

“What’s planned during the day today, Kay? Can I help you with anything?” Beth leaned her elbow on the table, cupping her chin in her hand.

“The boat ride is at noon, or I should say the boat rides. There are too many people for just one boat, so it’ll be more like a flotilla.” Kay shook her head. “It was a pain in the ass to get it all arranged. The lunch caterer had conniptions when she heard that her buffet had to be tripled. Thank God, money talked. You bought tickets for you and Jack, right?”

“Sure.” Beth swiped her finger through the cake icing and stuck it in her mouth. Her green eyes widened in feigned innocence when Kay held her fork in stab position over her dessert.

“I bought everything the reservation form had on it,” Beth stated. “Check-marked every box, wrote the big, fat check and mailed it to the reunion committee care of Kay Lynch. I figured you’d kill me if I didn’t.”

“You know me so well. And I know you so well that I figure you’ll want to kill me when I tell you I don’t want to go on the boat ride at all.”

Beth grabbed Kay’s hands. “Are you all right? Kay has this been too much for you? Do you need a doctor? We can get the car, can’t we, Jack?”

Jack extracted his cell phone from his pocket ready to dial.

Kay placed her hand on his forearm, which stopped him from using it. “No, Jack, it’s not necessary. Everybody, I’m fine. I just know that if I’m going to be able to stay up past dinner at the gala tonight, I better pace myself and rest this afternoon. That’s all.” Kay laid her hands on top of her stomach and smiled.

Beth sagged back in her chair. “You scared the life out of me. You want to blow off the football game, too?”

“Yep.”

Mickey’s face brightened. “Do you play golf, Jack? I might be able to get a tee-time at a course near my house. Maybe we can get in nine holes.” Now Mick had his cell phone ready in his hand.

“Sounds good to me, Mick.” Jack turned his face toward Beth. “Do you need me to do anything today?”

Beth and Kay grinned at each other and exchanged an unspoken message. “I don’t mind if I miss the boat ride or the game,” Beth said off-handedly. “I’d rather play golf.”

“You play?”

“Not very often. But I have played a few times.”

After Mick made a quick call to schedule a tee-time, Jack, Beth at his side, trailed him and Kay the short distance to their car—illegally parked around the corner from the restaurant.

An electronic bleep sounded popping the locks, and Mick opened the door for his wife. “Good. No ticket this time. Kay collects so many of them, parking tickets are one of our monthly budget items.”

After dropping Kay off at her house to rest, Mick drove a few miles farther to the course.

Mick had two sets of clubs in the trunk. “You can use Kay’s clubs, Liz.”

She pulled out several of the clubs inspecting them before hoisting the bag out of the car. “They look brand new. When did Kay take up golf?”

“She had a round of lessons a while ago so she could spend more time with me. She liked driving the golf cart around mostly. Thought it was dumb to make such a big deal out of hitting a little white ball.” He chuckled.

Mick grabbed his clubs while Beth stood patient and relaxed in the parking lot, waiting.

Jack shook his head back and forth and pushed his hand through his hair. “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to be hustled?”

Beth fluttered her eyelashes, her eyes wide in phony innocence, as he followed her to the first tee toting his rented clubs from the golf shop.

“Ladies first.” Jack swept his arm before him bent at the waist.

Mick nodded and stood beside Jack.

Beth pulled a pair of gloves from one of the bag’s pockets, put them on slowly and deliberately, squinted her eyes and gazed at the flag in the first hole, he assumed, gauging the wind. She slid the driver from Kay’s bag and stepped to the tee.

“Beth, the ladies tees are up there.” Jack pointed. “Dead ahead thirty yards.”

“Thanks, Jack. But I’m fine here.” She took her time lining up her shot. Jack had a nice view of her rear. Skinny, but not one thing wrong with her ass.

He waited for the first shot of the game with good-humored interest and growing suspicion.

Beth drew the club back in a textbook swing and connected with the ball’s sweet spot. A perfect hollow crack sounded, and she shaded her eyes with one hand to track the ball’s flight. It sailed in a graceful arc, one hundred and fifty yards at least, before it touched down and rolled on a beeline for the hole. It came to rest almost two hundred yards down the fairway.

Instead of whooping in delight, Beth stood away from the tee and made way for Jack or Mick. She looked as innocent as an altar girl.

Jack belly laughed, impulsively threw his arms around her and swept her in a circle off the ground. “I knew you were a hustler!”

He beamed down at her, his arms locked around her. She stiffened within his embrace at first, but he didn’t let go. With her warm body and the soft press of her breasts against him, he was in no hurry to let her loose. The fresh, sugary scent of her perfume enticed him to bury his nose in her neck. Her sparkling eyes danced with victory, a small, satisfied smile tugged at her full lips, tempting him to taste.

As he stared directly into her green eyes, her body relaxed into the hug, a slight sway toward him, toward more.

“Uh…” She awkwardly pulled back.

Relieved he hadn’t been rash enough to kiss her, Jack grabbed a club and kept his mind on golf. “Where did you learn to play?”

“Actually here. When I was in school. I met Wallace September of my freshman year, and he told me that if I ever wanted to see him on weekends I’d learn to play golf. So I did. I took a lot of lessons and I guess I had a knack for the game. When I started beating Wallace, he refused to play with me.” Beth huffed a laugh. “Ironic, huh?”

“I would have paid money to see you beat that blowhard. I bet his overblown ego couldn’t handle being bested by a girl.”

“Don’t call Wallace names,” she bristled.

He forced a smile. “Sorry,” he said, although he wasn’t sorry in the least.

Jack glanced over at Mick who winked at him, obviously entertained. “You could have warned me, pal,” Jack accused him good-naturedly.

“More fun this way,” Mick retorted.

“I’ll bet. So…” Jack grabbed a driver out of his bag. “What do you say to a friendly wager, Miss PGA? What’s your handicap?”

“Six.”

“Not too shabby. Mine’s two. How about I spot you five shots, and what’s a bet you can live with?”

“Ha! You only need to spot me four shots. The question is what can you live with? Because you’ll be the one paying up. Can your ego handle being bested by a girl?” She dared him with her hand out waiting for him to accept the bet.

“I think I can keep my ego in check.” Jack gave her hand a hearty shake. “What are the stakes?”

“How about loser buys dinner back in Chicago? Mick will act as supreme mediator. I always beat him, so he’s not betting. Are you, Mick?”

“I know better. Get ready to be taken, Jack, my boy.” Mick slapped him on the shoulder.

Jack arched an eyebrow at Mick. “Traitor.”

****

Lizzie had never had so much fun playing golf. The easy banter between the three of them helped her relax and be herself. She enjoyed the sight of Jack pushing to win, Mick turned caddy advising him, co-conspirators.

Jack’s black hair blew around his face, serious with fierce concentration, and his muscles bunched with every shot he blasted off the tees. He had the advantage of sheer power connecting with the ball, but she had more control.

Lizzie placed her hand over her mouth and tried to stifle a laugh when he missed an easy putt on eight. She smelled victory. Sweet.

Remembering how Wallace wouldn’t talk to her for hours the first time she beat him, stopped her from laughing. The fear of how Jack would react when he choked on the ninth hole and she beat him by five strokes held her exuberance in check. She didn’t need the four shots he’d spotted her and hadn’t thought she would.

“Wow.” He scooped up her hand and shook it. “You win. I’m impressed. You’re really good. I want a rematch sometime.”

Shock temporarily silenced her. He’d congratulated her and hadn’t walked off and left her in a huff?

“You would play with me again?” Fear slid down her spine.

“Sure I would. Why wouldn’t I? You played a great round. But remind me not to spot you any strokes. Hey, maybe we could play partners and hustle some of my friends.” He grinned.

She grinned back, used to a different reaction from men. Well, Wallace. What a contrast.

Jack picked up the golf bag and hoisted its strap over his shoulder. “Let me know when you’re free for dinner in Chicago so I can pay up.”

“You don’t have to buy me dinner.”

“I never welsh on bets. You can pick the restaurant.”

Lunch at the clubhouse lasted longer than the quick bite they’d intended to grab. A quiet man until he had a beer or two in him to loosen his tongue, Mick entertained Jack with stories of his antics in college, most notably the dogged pursuit of Kay for six months before she relented and dated him. Lizzie had always been part of Kay’s inner sanctum so she added Kay’s perspective to the anecdotes, and it made for laughs and good-natured ribbing.

Mick dropped them at the hotel when the afternoon sun had swung low toward the horizon. The peach-tinged light softened the day. The landscape surrounding the river looked prettier to Lizzie as it filtered through the pastels of impending sunset. She wanted to linger outside and watch the sky grow fiery as the sunlight extinguished, but she needed to get ready for the gala.

Walking through the lobby next to Jack, her contentment with him at her side surprised her. Close together for the few minutes’ elevator ride she almost believed they were a couple.

She slid her key into the slot in her hotel door and turned to him. “We certainly were well matched today, huh Jack?”

“Yes, surprisingly so.” His appreciative look flattered her. “I’ll come by your room at seven.”

Leaning on the doorframe, she watched his progress down the hall, which gave her a nice display of extremely great buns.

He’s a good guy. Maybe I won’t kill Charlie after all.

Chapter Seven

A hollow knock on her door sounded as she fastened the clasp on the back of a strappy sandal. “Door’s open.” Bent over, she worked the tiny piece of metal into the hole on the leather strap.

The door hinge creaked. Footsteps echoed on the tile floor, coming nearer. Bent at the waist, Lizzie fiddled with her shoe. The bottom of pant legs, matte black on rich fabric, swung into view.

Jack halted with a half-skid of his mirror-polished black dress loafers, and cleared his throat. “I think I need a defibrillator, Beth. Red is your color. And I like how little there is of that dress.”

His thick tone of desire sent chills up her spine.

“Thanks.” She straightened, did a little curtsy in place and froze.

Look at you.

Clad in a finely tailored tuxedo, his dark hair slicked back, Jack was the epitome of a dream date. He was classic “black Irish” handsome, narrow straight nose, fair complexion, navy blue eyes that shone with easy confidence. “I could use CPR myself. You look terrific.”

“John P. Clark, date extraordinaire, at your service, ma’am.” He bowed at the waist.

She walked to a side table and picked up her evening purse, thrilled that Jack would accompany her to her next all-important encounter with Wallace. “Ready?”

He swept his gaze over her from the floor to her eyes. Sensuality simmered behind his even stare. “Nice shoes.”

“Manolo Blahniks.” She sighed. “It’s a vice.”

“Well, just keep on sinning.” He walked toward her and stretched out his hand. She looked down at the flat, black jewelry box in his palm.

“What’s this?”

“Charlie told me to give this to you tonight. Claimed you’d appreciate it more than a corsage. I took the liberty of opening it before I came.”

Jack deposited the box in her hand. “I think you’ll like it. Go ahead. Open it.”

Lizzie opened the box gingerly, conflicted about accepting a present from Charlie through Jack. When she saw the diamond necklace, she couldn’t contain her delight. “Oh, Jack. It’s beautiful.”

He stepped forward and removed the dainty jewelry from the box. “Let me.”

Steering her in front of the hall mirror he encircled her neck with the platinum chain. All she could concentrate on was his warm breath on her shoulders. His musky masculine scent scrambled her brain.

Staring in the mirror, she touched the tiny diamond butterfly at her throat with wonder. “Mari wore a necklace just like this all the time.”

His eyes met hers in the mirror. “I know. It is Mari’s necklace.” He stepped away from her.

She turned toward him with a teary smile. Her hand pressed the smooth gold filigree into her neck, stroking the tiny diamond facets under her fingers. Blinking several times so the tears wouldn’t spill, she trained her eyes on his. “Oh, thank you Jack. It’s a treasure beyond compare.”

Lizzie couldn’t define what passed between them, but the power of the moment resonated in her soul. She could hardly breathe. He opened his arms and she stepped into them as if pushed forward by invisible hands. For a few seconds they clung together, fit together.

My dream date. Mari are you here with me?

Releasing her gently Jack said, “Thank Charlie, not me. He must have figured you’d be less likely to bash his head in when you get back if he did something nice like this.”

“It’s more than nice. It’s very special.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever take it off.”