The Talk of the Town (18 page)

With one motion, he rolled to his side and, making sure he didn’t hurt her in the process, tumbled her to the ground. She lay there, immobile, gaping at him in wide-eyed shock. Ignoring her stunned expression, he bolted upright and dragged in slow, deep, steadying gulps of air.

Roxie sat up and shook her hair back. She had known he was aroused. She couldn’t help but know, but her own arousal had obscured how very intensely he’d been stirred. All she had done was touch his cheek, his mouth. She would never have imagined such a painfully impassioned response. But his desire was obvious in his tense features, his still-trembling body. Heavy remorse burdened her for the way in which she had teased him.

“I’m sorry, Luke, I never meant—”

He held up a hand to cut her off. “Don’t, Roxie, just don’t.”

“But—”

“It’s over.” He pushed to his feet. “Forget it.”

He sounded so harsh, she felt even worse. “But I am sorry, Luke,” she persisted in a papery voice. “I should never have—”

“You should have watched where you were walking,” he interrupted. “You could have been hurt.”

Her knees wobbling, she stood and swept what dirt she could from the back of her blouse and the legs of her slacks. She spoke in a hurried staccato that matched the agitation of her hands. “I’m so clumsy sometimes. I can’t believe I—”

“Roxie,” he said, and this time his voice was soothing, almost gentle.

She stood stock-still. Her body drummed with each agonizing beat of her heart as she slowly raised her gaze to meet his. The hint of a rueful smile indented his sensual mouth even as that silvered passion lingered in his eyes.

“It’s all right, Roxie,” he comforted her. “You couldn’t know.”

Never had she felt such a welling of emotion as she did now. It rose up inside her, so intense that she thought she would drown in the flood of guilt, relief, joy, and indefinable caring. She had to blink, hard, to keep it from pouring forth from her eyes.

“You couldn’t help it,” he went on, measuring each word carefully. “It wasn’t anything you did. It was . . . it’s been so long since . . . just being near”—he nearly said
you
, but managed to catch himself in time—”a woman . . . can excite me. It wasn’t really you at all.”

It was the biggest lie of all time. She was the only woman he’d ever really wanted, really wanted in such a soul-stirring way. But of course, he’d never be able to tell her that.

All her emotions drained away, leaving only an uncertain injured pique. Then she looked at him with a mixture of hurt and anger rigidly imprinted on her features. He recognized that harsh expression. Because he’d read rejection in too many faces not to know it when he saw it. A wall of glass broke in his chest as the last of his hope splintered into a million shards.

“I swear I won’t touch you again,” he said.

Irrationally, this irritated her further. Stiffening, she suggested they forget about it. “It’s getting late,” she said on a note that matched her bleak mien. “We’d best get going.”

The shards pierced his soul as she spun on her heel and strode off down the drive. He wanted to tell her he hadn’t meant that the way it sounded, that he was just trying to protect her from the slings and arrows of town gossip, but it was too late. Now he had no option but to follow her.

They walked down the shade-speckled drive in single file, silent, oblivious to the chattering of the squirrels, the whisper of the breeze through the trees, the checkered sunlight.

Luke suffered an agonizing inner upheaval. The time with Roxie was a memory to treasure, one to sustain him in his loneliness. But it was also a cruel reminder of all the wasted years, of all the years without someone special at his side, someone to share with, someone to shine a light against the darkness of his life.

He knew he was totally unacceptable for someone as sweet and good as Roxie. She was the unattainable one. The one forbidden and off-limits. Even beyond his far-reaching boundaries. That she had not only given him a second chance but had also shared her smile, her time and even her food with him had moved him beyond measure. He certainly didn’t expect anything more. But having received those gifts from her, he didn’t think he could bear going on with anything less.

He was well-acquainted with pain. He’d known all kinds of pain—that of desertion, of denial, of dehumanization. But he’d never before known the gut-wrenching pain of a loss like this. Without Roxie, without her smile to brighten his days, without her welcome company at lunch, his empty life would be more starkly barren than he could bear. Already the desolation shrouded his soul.

Roxie was thoroughly ashamed of herself for stirring Luke up like she had. On the other hand, she was distressed over being lumped together with all the other women who could excite him. The notion disturbed her in myriad ways. It depressed and annoyed her. It bruised her ego, offended her sensibilities. She didn’t want to be
a
woman who affected him so strongly. She wanted to be the
only
woman.

Her step faltered as they approached the road. Good brown gravy, what was she thinking? She swiftly regained her balance, thankful that Luke was still walking behind her and couldn’t see her expression. A ringing box on the ears could not have stunned her more. The unexpected revelation was all the more astounding for its veracity.

Still lost in thought, she resumed her seat in the sidecar while he climbed onto the motorcycle. Covertly, she watched the tightening of muscles beneath the legs of his blue jeans as he braced his left foot on the ground for balance and used his right to start the engine. Then she turned her eyes resolutely away, resisting the urge to study him and mulling over her startling realization.

She didn’t waste time doubting the truth of it. It was obvious in the sudden dancing of her nerves, the catch in her breath, the tightening of her tummy whenever he was near. She had always been attracted to him, she realized, and now that she’d come to know him, to like and respect him, she was certain it would be all too easy to feel a great deal more for him. But still she shied away from letting herself feel that something more. Love meant opening yourself up to another, to making yourself vulnerable to the searing pain of disillusionment. She had vowed never to be so vulnerable again. Was she possibly ready now to take the risk? Was she ready to take a chance on her tumultuous feelings for Luke? She didn’t know. She just didn’t know if she could again endure the type of emotional devastation Arthur had put her through.

One thing she did know, however, was that she owed Luke an apology. She had behaved badly, teasing and tempting him with no thought for how it might affect him. Then she’d compounded her guilt by venting her vexation at him when all he’d done was to try to make her feel better about it. Her selfish behavior had spoiled the perfection of their afternoon together and though no amount of apologies could restore it, she had to let him know how very sorry she was.

As soon as they pulled up in front of her house, Roxie clambered out of the sidecar. She waited on the sidewalk until Luke had killed the motorcycle engine and dismounted. Then she wet her dry lips with a nervously flicking tongue and opened her mouth.

A stamping of feet interrupted her before she could speak. She whirled to see Bill and Frederick and John rushing out of the house and down the porch steps toward where they were standing. She sensed Luke’s immediate defensive stance and prayed this day would not get any worse.

“What’s going on here?” Bill demanded, a belligerent scowl darkening his rounded face.

Obviously, her prayer had gone unanswered. With as calm a manner as she could muster under the circumstances, which, with three brothers glowering fiercely at her head-on and one Bauer radiating hostile strength at her back, weren’t too serene, she said, “Why, Bill, what can you mean?”

“What are you doing here with
him
?” Bill’s jaw thrust pugnaciously forward, he glared at Luke.

Roxie peered over her shoulder and nearly shuddered. It was worse than she’d feared. Luke stood with his feet planted apart, his head cocked slightly as he sent her brother a look that would wither a plant to its roots. A tacit challenge was boldly clear in his stance, his attitude. This was the old Luke, and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to have anything to do with him. From the militant noise that Bill was making, however, it was all too clear
he
would thoroughly enjoy having something to do with Luke.

Ignoring Frederick, whose mustache was bristling with indignation, she sent a silent appeal to her youngest brother. But John, usually the most temperate of the three, mirrored Bill’s readiness for a fight. Her heart sinking, she said on a resigned sigh, “We went for a ride.”

“A ride!” Bill echoed, furious.

“On
that
?” Frederick pointed an accusatory finger at the motorcycle.

“With
him
?” John shouted.

She stiffened. They made it sound as if she’d have done better to go riding with John Dillinger! Coldly, she asked, “Is there a problem?”

Brushing off her question, Bill faced Luke and issued a terse order. “Stay away from my sister, Bauer.”

Luke would have liked nothing better than to release some of his pent-up pain and frustration in a fight. For one fleeting fraction of a second he nearly listened to his pumping adrenaline and let his fists fly. But he hadn’t spent the last two months trying to turn his life around only to throw it all away in one angry moment. He kept his mouth shut and his fists at his sides.

“She doesn’t need the likes of you bothering her,” Bill spouted.

“Absolutely not,” Frederick put in.

“Leave her alone, Bauer.” John repeated Bill’s earlier order.

“Honestly, you three, I’m not a child!” Roxie burst out. It was clearly evident that her brothers intended to provoke a fight, and she was now utterly furious with them. A slight breeze teased her wind-tousled hair, and she pushed it out of her face. “I’m perfectly capable of deciding with whom I wish to ride.”

Throwing her a frown of pure disgust, Bill muttered, “That’s debatable.”

Roxie stood there as if she was frozen in place. She wanted Luke to leave before a fight truly did erupt. She didn’t doubt for a second that he could hold his own against her brothers. John made his living doing farm chores and was in pretty good physical shape, but the same couldn’t be said of her other two brothers. Bill was pudgy in the belly and Frederick was soft in the hands. Luke could probably take them on, separately or together, and come out the winner. But he might hurt one of them. And she couldn’t have borne it if she was the cause of him having to go back to prison.

Turning to him now, she said with warm sincerity, “I’m sorry you’ve been subjected to this rude display of bad manners, Luke. I assure you that my brothers, all three of them, generally show more courtesy, if not more sense.”

Alert to her every nuance of expression, he could read the storm still raging in her eyes and his admiration for her control gave him the impetus to respond in kind. “That’s all right, Roxie. It’s understandable, given the circumstances. I believe it would be best if I left—”

“You’re darn right it would be best!” Bill interjected.

Roxie flashed him a deadly look before presenting Luke with her prettiest smile, the one Arthur had always called dazzling. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get away, but you won’t forget that we’re going to the carnival tonight, will you? I promise you, I’ll be there at six-thirty.”

He understood her motivation. She’d been goaded into this by her brothers. But he was quick to grasp at the chance she offered him to rectify all the transgressions of the afternoon. Besides, in the brilliancy of that smile, he’d have agreed to anything.

“I won’t forget,” he said without the least hesitation. “Meet you at the entrance to the fairgrounds, right?”

“Right,” she verified in a voice rife with enthusiasm. “They won’t turn on the Ferris wheel lights until dark, so that will give us time to fill up on roasted peanuts and barbecued chicken and maybe even some cotton candy before we ride it.”

A glint of amusement entered his silvery eyes. “Sounds like a recipe for an upset stomach.”

“Oh, what’s a little dyspepsia between friends?” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

They laughed together, and it felt as right as right could be.

Explosive little squawks of shock sparked between her brothers, igniting Bill to fire a shrill “Are you crazy?” at her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Roxie asked Luke, still paying no attention to her brothers.

“It’s close enough to the boardinghouse I can walk,” he answered.

“I’ll see you at six-thirty then.”

He turned away and then back, looking rugged and handsome, windblown and sunbaked, disreputable and dangerous. “You’ll be okay?”

“I can handle them,” she assured him.

A smile, soft and knowing and heartening, passed between them. For Luke, it brought renewed hope. For Roxie, it brought another jumbling of her already disordered emotions.

With a fervent gratitude to the antagonistic brothers who had inadvertently given him another chance, Luke climbed onto the motorcycle, revved the engine and rode away, his sleeves riffling in the wind. Roxie followed him with hungry eyes, her vision clouded by the memory of his strong arms holding her above him, his hard body pinned beneath hers.

But the instant he rounded the corner her vision cleared, and she pulled herself back to the present. Bill and Frederick and John clamored at her, demanding to know if she’d lost her mind, her sense, her morals. Finally, she felt she had to speak or be smothered in the avalanche of their accusations.

“I can’t imagine what my morals have to do with it,” she said in a restrained tone. “We’re going on a date, not a heist.”

Bill clenched his fists. “How can you make jokes about this?”

Maybe her mother was right, Roxie thought. Maybe the hospital
had
made a mistake. What other explanation could there be for a brother like Bill? She sighed audibly. “I joke because if I didn’t lighten my mood a bit, I’d be seriously tempted to run you through with Dad’s sharpest carving knife.”