The First Man You Meet (5 page)

‘‘Shelly, what’s wrong?’’

‘‘Wrong?’’

‘‘It’s not like you to be quiet.’’

She grinned. They were barely more than acquaintances, and he already knew her. ‘‘Nothing.’’

‘‘I think there must be.’’ His finger against the side of her face guided her eyes toward him. Their lips were so close. Shelly’s breath seemed to be caught somewhere in her throat as she stared helplessly into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.…

His forehead touched hers, then he angled his face gently, brushing her cheek. Shelly knew she should break away, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Gently, deliberately, he pressed his mouth to hers, his lips warm and moist.

Shelly moaned at the shock of sensation. Her eyes drifted shut as his mouth moved hungrily over hers, and
soon their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, their bodies straining closer.

The sound of the approaching truck intruded into their private world and broke them apart. Mark’s eyes met hers, then he scowled darkly and glanced away. But Shelly didn’t know whether he was more angry with her or with himself. Probably her.

‘‘H
EY,’’ SHELLY SAID
reassuringly, ‘‘don’t look so concerned. It was just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill kiss.’’ She stood indignantly and brushed the wet sand from her jeans. ‘‘Besides, it didn’t mean anything.’’

Mark’s scowl darkened. ‘‘Didn’t mean anything?’’ he echoed.

‘‘Of course it didn’t! I mean, we were both wondering what it would be like, don’t you think? Good grief, we seem to be running into each other every other day and it only makes sense that we should want to, you know, experiment.’’

‘‘In other words, you think the kiss was just a means of satisfying our mutual curiosity?’’

‘‘Sure. All this nonsense about the wedding dress overcame our normal good sense, and we succumbed to the temptation.’’ Thank goodness Mark seemed to understand her rambling. Shelly’s knees were shaking. It was a wonder she could still stand upright. Although she’d tried to minimize the effects of his kiss, it left her feeling as though she’d never been kissed before. Her entire body had been overwhelmed by a feeling of rightness. Now all she felt was the crushing weight of confusion. She shouldn’t be feeling any of these things for Mark. A CPA! An almost-engaged CPA, to boot.

‘‘And was your curiosity satisfied?’’ he demanded. His blue eyes probed and waited.

‘‘Uh…yes. And yours?’’

‘‘Yes,’’ he muttered, but he was frowning again.

The youth from the rental agency leaped out of the truck and loaded Shelly’s moped into the back. ‘‘You’re not supposed to get the engine wet,’’ he scolded. ‘‘It’s in the rental agreement. You’ll have to pay a fine.’’

Shelly nodded. She didn’t have an excuse; she doubted the agency would accept her trying to escape Mark as a legitimate reason for damaging one of their vehicles.

Mark hefted his own bike onto the truck as well, and the three of them got into the pickup’s cab and rode silently down the long stretch of beach.

Shelly went to the office to deal with her fine and was surprised to find Mark waiting for her when she’d finished. ‘‘You hungry?’’ he asked in an offhand invitation.

‘‘Uh…’’ She would have thought he’d be anxious to see the last of her.

‘‘Good,’’ he said immediately, not giving her a chance to reply. His hand grasped her elbow firmly as he led her to a nearby fish-and-chips stand. Shelly couldn’t recall the last time a man had taken her elbow. Her first reaction was to object to what she considered an outdated gesture but she was surprised to find it oddly comfortable, even pleasant.

They ordered their fish and chips, then carried the small baskets to a picnic table.

‘‘I should have paid for my own,’’ she said once they were seated, vaguely guilty that he’d paid for both meals. Janice might be the jealous type, and Shelly didn’t want her to hear about this.

His eyes met hers, steady and direct. ‘‘When I ask you to join me, I pick up the bill.’’

Any argument she had vanished before it reached her lips.

After that, Shelly concentrated on her fish and chips, which were fresh and absolutely delicious. Mark seemed preoccupied with his meal, as well.

‘‘What brought you to the beach today?’’ Shelly asked, finishing the last few French fries in her basket. Perhaps if they could figure out what had brought them both to a lonely stretch of beach two hours out of Seattle, they might be able to make sense of how they’d happened upon each other a third time.

‘‘I have a beach house here. After tax time I generally try to get away for a few days, to come down here and relax.’’

‘‘I had no idea.’’ She found it inordinately important that he understand she hadn’t somehow managed to stalk him across the state. Their meeting was pure coincidence…again.

‘‘Don’t worry about it, Shelly. You couldn’t possibly have known about the beach house or that I intended to be here today. I didn’t know it myself until this morning.’’

Shelly suddenly wished that Mark hadn’t kissed her. Everything was becoming far too complicated now.

‘‘You’re very talented,’’ he told her out of the blue. ‘‘I bought one of your videos the other day.’’

‘‘How did you know what I do?’’ Shelly felt flustered by his praise; she was at a complete loss to understand why it meant so much to her.

‘‘I saw it on the income tax form and I was curious about your work.’’

‘‘Curiosity seems to have gotten us both into a great deal of trouble,’’ she said.

Mark grinned, a shameless irresistible grin. The kind of grin that makes a woman forget all sorts of things. Like the fact that he was practically engaged. And that he was a tall, blue-eyed stranger who, according to Aunt Milly’s letter, would soon become her husband.…

Shelly scrambled to her feet, hurrying toward the beach. Mark followed.

‘‘You shouldn’t look at me like that,’’ she said, her voice soft and bewildered.

‘‘You said it was just a kiss. Was it?’’

‘‘Yes,’’ she boldly lied. ‘‘How could it be anything more?’’

‘‘You tell me.’’

Shelly had no answers to give him.

‘‘While you’re at it, explain why we keep bumping into each other or why I can’t stop thinking about you.’’

‘‘You can’t?’’ She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, either, but she wasn’t ready to admit it.

‘‘No.’’ He stood behind her, his hands caressing her shoulders. Leisurely he stroked the length of her arms. His touch was so light that she thought she was imagining it, and she felt both excited and afraid.

He turned her around and gazed at her lips. ‘‘If that was just a run-of-the-mill kiss, then why do I feel the need to do it again?’’

‘‘I don’t know.’’

His lips brushed hers. Briefly, with a whisper-soft touch, as though he was testing her response. Shelly closed her eyes and moaned. She didn’t want to feel any of this. They were so far apart, such different people. Besides,
he
was involved with another woman and
she
was involved with her career.

When the kiss ended and he slowly released her, it was all Shelly could do to keep from sinking to the sand. ‘‘I have…to get back to Seattle,’’ she managed to say, backing away from him. She turned and took four or five wobbly steps before she realized she was headed toward the Pacific Ocean.

‘‘Shelly?’’

‘‘Yes?’’

‘‘Seattle is due north. If you continue going west, you’ll eventually land in Hawaii.’’

‘‘Oh, yeah, right,’’ she mumbled, reversing her direction abruptly, eager now to escape.

T
HE FIRST PERSON
Shelly called when she got home was Jill. ‘‘Can you come over?’’ Shelly asked without preamble. She could barely keep the panic out of her voice.

‘‘Sure, what’s wrong?’’

‘‘I saw Mark again.’’

‘‘And?’’

‘‘Let me put it like this. We kissed and I haven’t stopped trembling since.’’

Jill’s romantic sigh came over the receiver as her breath softly caught. ‘‘This I’ve got to hear. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’’

Actually it was closer to seven minutes. Shelly hadn’t stopped pacing from the moment she got off the phone. She checked her watch repeatedly, waiting desperately for a dose of Jill’s good sense.

‘‘Shelly,’’ Jill said, smiling as she breezed into the apartment, ‘‘what happened to your hair?’’

Shelly smoothed down the errant curls. ‘‘I was at Long Beach.’’

‘‘That’s where you saw Mark? Good grief, that’s something of a coincidence, isn’t it?’’

‘‘I saw him earlier in the week, too…. Remember I told you I was being audited by the IRS? Lo and behold, guess who was in their waiting room when I arrived?’’

‘‘I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Mark Brady!’’

‘‘Right.’’ Shelly rubbed her damp palms along her jeans in agitation. They, at least, had finally dried.

‘‘And?’’

Shelly groaned. ‘‘Can’t you see what’s happening? This is the third time we’ve been thrown together in the past few days. I’d never seen the man before, and all of a sud
den he’s around every corner. Then the wedding dress fit. It fit you…and it fits me.’’

‘‘I agree that’s all rather odd, but I wouldn’t put too much stock in it, if I were you.’’

‘‘Put too much stock in it… Listen, Jill, I’ve never had a man make me feel the way Mark does—all weak inside and, I don’t know, special somehow. To be perfectly honest, I don’t like it.’’ She closed her eyes, hoping to chase away the memory of his touch, but it did no good. ‘‘You want to know the real kicker?’’ she asked abruptly, turning to face her friend. ‘‘He’s engaged.’’

‘‘Engaged,’’ Jill echoed, her voice as startled as her expression.

‘‘He keeps insisting it’s not official yet. Nevertheless he’s involved with someone else.’’

‘‘But it was you he kissed,’’ Jill pointed out.

‘‘Don’t remind me.’’ Shelly covered her eyes with both hands. ‘‘I don’t mind telling you, I find this whole thing unnerving.

‘‘Obviously. Here,’’ Jill said, directing Shelly toward the kitchen. ‘‘Now sit down. Let me make us some tea, then we can try to reason this out. Honestly, Shell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so upset.’’

‘‘I’m not upset,’’ she cried. ‘‘I’m confused. There’s a big difference. I’m…I’m trapped.’’ Despite all logic to the contrary, she couldn’t help fearing that the entire course of her life was about to change because her aunt Milly had fallen asleep watching ‘‘Donahue’’ one day and had some nonsensical dream.

‘‘Trapped?’’ Jill repeated. ‘‘Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?’’

‘‘I don’t know anymore.’’ Shelly rested her elbows on the table, buried her face in her hands and breathed in deeply. She had a tendency to become emotional, espe
cially over family issues; she realized that. But this was different. This was scary.

‘‘Calm down,’’ Jill advised. ‘‘Once you think it through in a rational manner, you’ll realize there’s a perfectly ordinary explanation for everything.’’

Jill’s serenity lent Shelly some badly needed confidence. ‘‘All right, you explain it.’’

‘‘I can’t,’’ Jill admitted matter-of-factly, pouring boiling water into Shelly’s teapot. ‘‘I’m not even going to try. My advice to you is to quit taking all this so seriously. If a relationship develops between you and Mark, just enjoy it—providing the other woman’s out of the picture, of course! Just forget about that dress.’’

‘‘Easy for you to say.’’

‘‘That’s true,’’ Jill agreed readily. ‘‘But you’re going to have to accept it for your own peace of mind.’’

Shelly knew good advice when she heard it. ‘‘You’re right. I’m unnecessarily leaping into the deep end with this.’’

‘‘A dress can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. The same applies to Mark.’’

Shelly always counted on her friend’s levelheadedness. Although Jill had given her basically the same advice several days earlier, Shelly needed to hear it again.

Jill prepared two cups of tea and carried them to the table. ‘‘Are you going to be all right now?’’

Shelly nodded. ‘‘Of course. I just needed a friend to remind me that I was overreacting.’’ She took a sip of the tea, surprised by how much it revived her. ‘‘You’re still planning to see
Street Suite
with me tomorrow afternoon, aren’t you?’’

The recent Broadway hit was showing locally, and Shelly and Jill had purchased their tickets several weeks earlier.

‘‘That’s not tomorrow, is it?’’ Jill looked stricken, her teacup poised midway to her mouth.

‘‘Jill…’’

‘‘I promised I’d work for Sharon Belmont. She’s got some family thing she has to attend. She was desperate and I completely forgot about the play. Oh, dear, you’ll just have to go without me.’’

‘‘You’re sure you can’t get out of it?’’ Shelly couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

‘‘I’m sure. I’m really sorry, Shell.’’

Although frustrated that Jill couldn’t come with her, Shelly decided to go to the theater alone. She wasn’t pleased at the prospect and given her proclivity for running into Mark Brady, she didn’t feel entirely convinced that this wasn’t another attempt by the fates to regulate their lives.

However, if she stayed home, she’d be missing a wonderful play. Not only that, she’d be giving in to a nebulous and irrational fear, allowing it to take over her life.

The following afternoon, Shelly dressed carefully, in the type of conservative outfit her mother would have approved of. Mark, too, would approve of her rose-colored linen dress with its matching jacket.… The minute the thought flashed through her head, she rejected it.

She was on her way out the door when her phone rang. For a split second she toyed with the idea of not answering. More than likely it was her mother, checking in to see if Shelly had met a prospective husband yet. Her calls had become more frequent and more urgent since Aunt Milly’s dress had arrived.

Years of habit prompted her to reach for the telephone.

‘‘Shelly.’’ Mark’s voice came over the line. ‘‘I was about to leave for the afternoon’s performance of
Street
Suite
. Since we seem to have this tendency to run into each other everywhere we go, I thought I should probably clear it with you. If you’re going to be there, I’ll go another time.’’