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Authors: Gwynne Forster

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BOOK: Sealed With a Kiss
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Contentment warmed her as she watched him, captivated by the love in his eyes. She stored in her memory the honeyed tone of his voice as he talked about his precious children.

“I’d give anything to have grown up surrounded by that kind of love,” she said wistfully. “And I hope I get to experience it just once.” She leaned back and sipped her cool coffee. Rufus remained silent, as if comprehending that her words were to herself, that she had not meant to share such private thoughts.

“Grandpa tries; he always has, but he and I are the products of two vastly different eras. I try to remember that.”

His penetrating and compassionate look aroused her need to feel his arms like steel bands around her, but she glanced away. Sometimes, she thought, he seems to be looking into my very soul. As if realizing that she was reaching for something deeply personal and beyond his means to provide, he leaned toward her slowly, seeming to fear disturbing her.

“Naomi, will you come over here, sit beside me, and lay your head on my shoulder?” He spoke in a low, gentle voice, as if trying not to break her mood.

“What?” He smiled and held out his hand. But she had snapped out of it.

“Why can’t you come over here?”

“I didn’t want to seem threatening and you…I was just being a friend.”

Naomi looked at Rufus with new eyes. Was there a chance that he had enough room in his heart to love one more person? To love that person just half as much as he loved his boys? She quickly shifted her thoughts from that dangerous path. “I’d better be going; I have a few things to do at home.”

He had been looking at her, and she supposed that her need was mirrored in her eyes. “Don’t run away, Naomi. You don’t need to be alone just now, and I’m here. Lean on me. Just this once, let me take the weight of what it is that burdens you.”

She wished she could put out everything, that she could just open up and let it out. Let go of the awesome weight that had been suffocating her for nearly half her life. If he loved her, she might have a chance finally to live a normal life, to love a man and let him love her, because only a man who loved her deeply would understand and accept. Rufus wasn’t that man; he was judgmental and unforgiving. She was never going to meet one who would willingly share her awful burden, and she wouldn’t risk exposing herself to rejection and maybe even scorn for something over which she’d been too young to control. She glanced up, saw him watching her, and plastered a bright smile on her face.

“Really, Rufus, you’re imagining things. I’ve got to produce a draft design for a milk carton, that’s all.”

Discouraged by her refusal to trust him, he stood and helped her to her feet. The backs of his fingers scraped through his short, curly hair, and he began to speak slowly, his tone grim.

“Stop fooling yourself, Naomi. Until you admit the importance of whatever it is that you fear, your life won’t be what it could be, what it should be. If you face it, you’ll move mountains to straighten it out. And you’ll find the strength to do it. I know. Come on; I’ll walk you to your car.”

He’d sworn to himself that he would have her, but he wondered now if the price wouldn’t be higher than what he was willing to pay. She carried a lot of emotional baggage, maybe too much. Yet he couldn’t help wanting to protect her, to banish the gnawing anxiety that he sometimes sensed in her. But neither could pretend to be undisturbed by her attempt to belittle what they felt for each other.

She gloried in the security of his hand holding hers as they’d walked, but he hadn’t kissed her good night, and she went to bed empty and lonely. Her conflicting feelings—her need for Rufus and her longing to know her son—gave her a feeling of hopelessness. Why did it have to be one or the other? And why had she let herself begin to yearn for the love that she knew Rufus was capable of giving? A love that she hadn’t known existed until she had seen him with his children. And she wanted the gentleness that she knew he possessed. But somehow, she had to know her son. Maybe, if she could see him, talk with him just once. She didn’t want to hurt him or his family in any way. Thinking of that made her question whether she shouldn’t stay away. Confused and uncertain, she wondered if she was ready for a clean break from Rufus, giving up One Last Chance, and possibly inviting ruinous public exposure. It was nearly daybreak when she finally fell asleep.

Several evenings later, the One Last Chance board of directors nominated Naomi as its delegate to the National Urban Alliance convention in New Orleans. She had never been there, hadn’t been a convention delegate, and had no idea what was expected of her. She fretted about it, then tucked in her pride and called Rufus, who was an NUA officer.

“I’ll call you back in a few minutes,” he told her. She decided he’d made a power move, but she couldn’t blame him. Her behavior with him had been anything but consistent.

He returned the call after half an hour. “Your call surprised me; how may I help you?” She winced at his coolness and forced herself to assume a casual demeanor as she told him of her board’s decision, but she wouldn’t let him see how his coolness had affected her.

“I’ve got a lot of material here that might help you. I’ll sort through it and bring it over tomorrow night after my own board meeting, if you’d like.” His tone was impersonal.

“What about the boys?” She wanted him to bring them, even as she savored the idea of being alone.

“Jewel keeps them overnight when I have a late meeting or another engagement.”

You mean when you stay out all night, she thought, feeling a cold tightness in her chest.

“Tomorrow night is fine with me. Thanks, Rufus.” She didn’t know how to hang up and just held the receiver and said nothing. He, too, seemed unable to break contact. Nervous and ill at ease, Naomi resorted to flippancy, thought it lacked her usual bite.

“Just think, if you’d been as reluctant to hang up on me once before, we probably never would have met.”

“I didn’t hang up on you.” He paused briefly. “Did I?”

“Yes, you did. When your Ivan-the-Terrible temper roared out of control, you said a few cutting words and hung up.”

Rufus chuckled, but his deep voice sounded more like a growl. “I’ve got better manners than that, lady.”

“I know. That’s one reason why we got acquainted.”

“What’s another one?” He considered why he enjoyed needling her; a twenty-minute conversation with Naomi when she was at her devilish best could brighten his life for days.

“Your ego’s big enough, Meade.” She was sorry as soon as she’d said it.

“There ought to be a law against suppressing compliments.”

“Well, there isn’t,” she giggled. “Let’s count to ten and hang up.”

Rufus laughed. “The last time I did anything like that, I was in junior high. See you tomorrow night. One…”

Rufus left his desk, walked to the window, and looked out at the bare trees. There was something calming about winter scenes; nature was at rest, but you knew that new life would soon emerge. Would it happen to him? When Naomi had telephoned him, rather than talk with her then, he had elected to call her back, giving himself time to get his emotions under control. The sound of her voice had sent his heart racing. Bringing the material to her was a ploy; he could have told her what she needed to know by phone. But he had held his breath while he waited for her answer.

He spent the better part of the next day prowling through his house, eager for the night when he would see Naomi. Around three o’clock, exasperated with himself, he packed the boys in the minivan and drove to Louella’s. Lou let them in the tradesman’s entrance at the back. He sat on a high stool and helped her clean string beans for the dinner crowd, while the boys watched
Sesame Street.

“What’s wrong, hon? Why aren’t you working?” He should have known that she wouldn’t let him escape her motherly interrogation, but he felt too raw for a discussion of his feelings.

“I thought I’d bring my boys over to see you.”

“Not in the middle of a workday. How’s Naomi?”

He laughed. Trust her to cut to the chase. “You old fox. She’s fine, as far as I know, and she’s driving me crazy.” Louella sat down beside him and wiped her hands on her checkered apron.

“If it doesn’t come easy, hon, just let it go.”

He pulled at his chin and looked into the distance. “I can’t.

Louella draped an arm loosely around his broad shoulders. “But from what you told me, she’s everything you don’t want. So what’s the problem?”

“The problem, Lou, is that she is also everything I do want.
Everything.

Louella sucked in her breath, got up and padded over to the sink. “Then you’ll just have to decide whether you’ll be more miserable with her or without her.” He stood and began putting on the boys’ coats.

“I don’t have to decide. I know.”

The camaraderie that Naomi and Rufus had shared by phone the previous evening didn’t seem to ease their discomfort when Naomi opened the door. It was like the first time. Excitement coursed through her when she looked at him. They stood there, caught up in unwelcome longing. The clock that had belonged to her mother chimed nine times; by the ninth, his face had formed what she recognized as a forced smile.

“Usually, when someone opens a door to me, I’m told to come in, and that’s what I do. But every time I come here, I wonder if you’re going to let me in.” He walked in without waiting longer for an invitation, raised his free hand as if to caress her cheek, but quickly withdrew it.

“Have a seat.” She put her trembling hands behind her. Why had she agreed to this meeting when she knew that being alone with him in her home might be a disastrous move? He remained standing, looking at her intently, the only sound the ticking of the clock.

“Please, sit,” she repeated. His response was a half smile. “After you.” He gave her the folders, explained the registration procedure and how to get the best rooms, told her of the more interesting committee appointments, and cautioned her about the political maneuvering.

After thirty minutes, he rose to leave, tired of the strain that being with her imposed on him. She had been careful not to dress provocatively, but his desire wouldn’t have been less feverish if she’d been wearing sackcloth. He didn’t have to see her in sexy clothes to desire her; he just
did.

“I’d better be going.” She didn’t respond, but her look of disappointment told him that she didn’t want him to leave. He looked at her mass of thick, curly hair hanging around her shoulders, and the way her navy slacks and mauve-pink sweater outlined her tall, slim body and shook his head.

“Why couldn’t you be somebody else?” He hadn’t meant to say it, but she’d spoken simultaneously and hadn’t understood.

“I wish you’d brought the boys; I’d love to see them. They’re really special.” She was trying to prolong his stay, and both of them knew it.

Rufus wondered how much truth there was in her statement. If only he could… “They ask about you,” he heard himself say, though he hadn’t planned to tell her. “It’s odd, because they hardly ever ask about Jewel, and they know her so much better.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t believe they’ll be four on Thursday.” He leaned against the wall, and his voice became softer, deeper, almost musical. “They want me to keep their birthday until Christmas and let Santa Claus bring it.”

Naomi laughed that joyous liquid laugh that always made his spine tingle. “I’ll bet that was Preston’s idea.”

He creased his forehead, wondering how she knew. “Yes, it was. I’m surprised at how well you understand their personalities and the interplay between them. My brother-in-law has such a problem with their identities that it’s their greatest pleasure to play tricks on him. Jewel’s the one who tells them about Santa Claus.” He straightened up, began to pace, and stopped right in front of her.

“Don’t you?” she asked in a shaky voice, betraying to him her struggle not to lose her composure. She clasped her arms where they joined her shoulders and looked at him through half lowered lashes, but he reined in the desire that threatened to erupt. His gaze remained steady, probing, but he answered her as if there was no tension between them. As if he hadn’t jammed his hands into his pockets to keep them off her.

“I don’t lie to my boys. Not ever. When they ask, I tell them, ‘that’s what people say.’” He hesitated. “Well, I’ve got to be going.” But he didn’t move. He stood still right in front of her, a breath away, looking deeply into her wide, revealing eyes. He knew she was in a turmoil that matched his own. Her eyes adored him, and he stared at her in wonder, mesmerized. Was she as soft and as sweet as she sometimes seemed? Like right now?

“Naomi, I…Naomi!”

“Rufus!” She was in his arms, sobbing his name. And she wilted when his lips found hers in a kiss that was almost feral in its consuming power. Drugging. Humbling. When he finally eased his lips from hers and looked into her dazed eyes, he knew there was a decision to be made, and made soon. Where were they going?

“We can’t be platonic friends, Naomi. It isn’t possible.”

“I know.”

“So I guess I’ll see you in New Orleans.” He still held her to him.

“Who’ll keep the children? Jewel?” He detected a hopefulness in her voice and wondered at it. Did she think he’d leave his boys with a casual friend? He smiled inwardly. Or did she think him a philanderer? He grazed her cheek softly with the knuckle of his right hand.

BOOK: Sealed With a Kiss
6.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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