There's Always Plan B (15 page)

She supposed the good news was she was closer in age to him than his father, but still. Only fifty-five? She had friends that age.

“Your parents are really young,” she said.

“You worry too much,” he said. “So what if there's an age difference?”

“It's a big deal. We have nothing in common.”

The waiter appeared with their drinks. Adam asked for a little more time before they ordered.

When they were alone, he picked up his glass. “We have more in common than you think. We want the same thing.”

I…He…You…

Her brain shut down. She felt it and heard the audible click. One second there were thoughts, and the next—nothing. Not even a flicker of a concept.

“Carly?” Adam waved his hand in front of her face. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she managed, then swallowed about a quarter of her drink.

“Did I say too much?”

“Oh, yeah. Don't do that again.”

“So we should stick to nice, neutral topics and pretend this isn't happening.”

She raised her glass and clinked it against his. “I'll drink to that.”

 

As they walked back to the parking garage Carly was pretty pleased with herself. She'd survived dinner with Adam and it had actually been fun. He'd kept his word, so they'd talked about things like movies and places they'd traveled and family holiday traditions. She'd managed to keep her liquor to the single cocktail and a glass of wine, so while she felt a teeny, tiny buzz, she wasn't actually drunk.

Because drunk could be dangerous. Drunk could make her do things or want things or say things that could get her in a lot of trouble.

She wasn't sure if she was more worried that Adam would take her up on her offer or that he would be gentle and sweet as he turned her down. Both would be fairly hideous and she wasn't in a place where she could handle that kind of pain.

They entered the parking garage and headed for his SUV. Although he hit the remote to unlock the doors, he still walked around to her side of the vehicle.

But instead of opening the door, he stopped right next to her, cupped her face in both hands and kissed her. Just like that. No warning. Not even a hint.

Carly didn't know what to do. A strange man's lips were on hers. Everything was different—his height, his touch, his scent, even the way he gently brushed back and forth, slowly, ever so slowly.

She felt awkward. Her arms hung at her side. Was she supposed to touch him back? It had been too long since she'd kissed anyone but Neil. Apparently she'd forgotten what to do. How humiliating was that?

He raised his head and smiled at her. “How you doing?”

“Fine. Great. Peachy.”

The smile grew into a grin. “Peachy?”

“Uh-huh. Probably not a word you've heard before. It's because I'm old. Older. Different vocabulary.”

“I've heard peachy. Just not in this context.”

He dropped his hands from her face to her wrists, grabbed her hands and put them on his waist.

“It would be nice if you liked this,” he said quietly.

Pronouns exploded in her head again, but she ignored them. She ignored everything except the feel of soft cotton over his hard body. She pressed her fingers into his sides and met some seriously muscled resistance. This was a guy who worked out. Oh, yeah.

This time when he lowered his head to kiss her, she was prepared. Sort of. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his mouth against her mouth and allowed herself to get lost in the possibilities.

He wrapped both arms around her and drew her close, even as he angled his head and swept his tongue against her lower lip.

The unspoken request provoked an involuntary response. She parted for him. Even as she tried to accept the fact that they were touching
everywhere
from their shoulders and their thighs, she felt his tongue sweep inside.

Then they were kissing—seriously kissing. Something she hadn't done in the past until at least the second or third date. But they weren't dating, she reminded herself. And she wasn't seventeen anymore. So the hell with it.

She ignored the questions, the rules, the what-ifs and let herself drown in the sensations.

And boy, howdy, there were plenty. How his firm chest squished her breasts and made them ache, but in a really good way. How possessively he held her, as if he wanted to feel her, and keep her against him. The firm, yet gentle kiss that teased and aroused and made her wet and hungry.

Had kissing improved in the past twenty years or was Adam just really good at it?

Before she could figure out an answer, he drew back and looked at her. She liked the passion she saw flaring in his eyes, although she would have liked a little more proof that he was, well, interested. Despite the body pressing, she hadn't been able to feel, um, it.

“That was nice,” he said as he brushed his fingers against her face.

“I thought so, too.”

He kissed her cheek, then stepped back and opened the car door.

She climbed inside. The drive back was silent. Adam put in a CD and told her to close her eyes. She tried that, but every time she let her lids flutter closed she relived the kiss and she wasn't sure that was such a good idea. To her it had been fairly close to a life-changing event, but what had it been to him? No doubt he pretty much kissed every woman he met. He was young and gorgeous and she would do well to remember that he was just passing through.

 

“You're back late,” her mother said when they stepped out of the SUV and walked up the front steps. Rhonda hovered by the front door, looking both annoyed and intrigued.

Adam smiled at her. “We had dinner on the wharf. Did I keep Carly out too late?”

“No. Of course not,” Rhonda said, and playfully patted his arm. “She's a grown woman. She practically has a grown daughter.”

That made Carly wince. Tiffany was only fifteen, a long way from being grown.

He looked at her. “Thanks for inviting me. I had a great time.”

“Me, too.”

She wanted to say more, but what? Besides, her mother was right there, listening. He nodded at them both, then took the stairs two at a time.

Was he going to do that all the way to the third floor? she wondered, getting tired just thinking about it.

“What were you doing?” her mother asked in a low angry voice. “You were supposed to keep him occupied, not go gallivanting.”

Carly took a step back. “We drove to San Francisco and dropped off Tiffany. Then we had dinner.”

“I know how long it takes to eat a meal.”

“What exactly are you accusing me of?”

Rhonda tugged at her shirt. “Nothing. I just don't want you to make fool out of yourself.”

Great. “How did the furniture moving go? Did Jack come over?”

Rhonda hesitated, as if she wasn't going to accept the change in subject. Then she spoke. “Yes, he was by. We moved the furniture around. Not a whole lot, but just enough for Adam to notice. It was incredibly hot in there.”

“Good. We needed it to be body temperature. Has the room cooled off?”

“It should have. We'll see what Adam has to say about all this. I hope it convinces him.”

“Me, too.” Although she had her doubts. The man had two Ph.D. degrees. Was that fair?

Carly stretched. “I'm going up to bed, Mom. See you in the morning.”

Instead of answering, her mother stared at her.

“What?” Carly asked.

“It's Adam, isn't it? You're getting involved with him.”

“I'm not, but even if I was, what's the big deal?”

“He's too young for you.”

Carly almost said “You, too,” but held back. “There's nothing you have to worry about.”

“But there is something?”

“No. There's nothing.” Just a kiss and she wasn't going to share that with anyone else. “Night, Mom.”

Unlike Adam, she took the elevator to the third floor, then walked to her room. Once inside, she pulled back the drapes to expose the night sky and the light of the moon. Then she flopped back on her bed and stared up at the dark ceiling.

She wanted Adam. Sexual need filled her until she ached from the hunger. How long had it been since she'd felt that? The last two years of her marriage had been completely sexless. Oh, she and Neil had done it plenty of times, but she'd just been going through the motions. She hadn't experienced passion or desire. She hadn't felt anything.

She'd thought that it was her body changing, that as she got older, the hormones or whatever it was that created that sensation of desperate desire had simply dried up.

Apparently not. She was both restless and edgy.

She stood and walked back to the window where she pressed her hands against the glass in an effort to cool her body. How ironic that she'd had years of accessible sex and she hadn't been interested, but now that she didn't have a man around, she was hungry with longing. Wasn't that just always the way?

Was Adam interested? She wanted to think he was, but she wasn't going to test the concept with anything like an invitation. Besides, even if he wanted her in theory, reality was very different and possibly unpleasant.

There were stretch marks from her pregnancy, a few very unattractive spider veins and old breasts. Seeing her naked could emotionally scar Adam for life, and she didn't think she could live with the guilt. Plus, once he'd seen her, he wouldn't be able to get it up and then where would she be? Depressed
and
unsatisfied.

Maybe a man closer to her age would be better. Someone like…Steve. He could—

Carly stared out at the darkness. She blinked twice as she turned the thought over in her head. Was she saying Steve was okay but Adam wasn't? But Steve was at least ten years older than she was and she was only seven years older than Adam. By her own definition, Adam was the better choice.

Except Steve was older and Adam was younger. Which meant she was giving in to sociological pressures that condoned an older man and younger woman but not the reverse. Which made her a hypocrite and just the sort of person she disdained and far too much like her mother.

Carly gave a soft laugh. She was also on the verge of going crazy. Apparently her mental heath was that tenuous. Sad, but true.

Well, the good news was that wanting sex as much as she did meant she was very much alive and hormonally healthy, if there was such a thing. She'd been kissed senseless by a very cool guy, and even if nothing else happened, she would also have that.

Now if she just had a ghost.

Despite
Carly's brave thoughts about the sociological unfairness of a society that trained women to believe that older men were more desirable by virtue of their age, if for no other reason, she did her best to avoid Adam for the weekend. As the B and B was full, staying busy and out of his way was amazingly easy. She made sure she worked hard enough on Saturday that she physically couldn't stay awake when she fell into bed that night and woke up bright and early Sunday to help Maribel with the brunch.

By four on Sunday, she was exhausted and wondering if she needed another plan. It didn't seem to matter how much she organized, cleaned, polished or planned, she couldn't stop thinking about Adam and their kiss. Worse, she'd wondered constantly if she was too old, too fat and too saggy to ever interest a man.

“Something I have to get over,” she told herself as she finished proofing the ads she was sending off to two travel magazines. Not only didn't she have the time or energy to worry about that kind of stuff, it made her tired. She was forty—shouldn't she be able to accept herself for who and what she was?

She stuck the ads in the envelope, made a mental note to overnight them in the morning, then left her office to go hang out in the front parlor. Tiffany was due back any time now and Carly wanted to check in with Neil and make sure everything had gone well.

Fifteen minutes later, Neil drove up in his rental car and Tiffany bounced out of the passenger side.

“Hey, Mom!” she called as she ran up the front steps. “I'm back. Did you miss me?”

Carly hugged her daughter, then held her at arm's length to study her face. She had on a little more makeup than usual and her hair had been teased into a halo of semicurls, but otherwise she looked pretty much the same.

“It was very quiet without you,” Carly said as she grinned at her daughter.

“I knew it would be. Oh, I bought you some bread.”

Tiffany raced back to the car and danced impatiently while her father opened the trunk. While he pulled out her small suitcase, Tiffany grabbed a bag and ran to the steps.

“It's this really big deal in San Francisco. They sell it everywhere. I had some at dinner last night and it's really good.”

“Thanks.” Carly took the bag and sniffed the delicious, fresh-baked, sourdough scent. Instantly her stomach rumbled.

Neil carried the suitcase to the steps and put it down. “Hey,” he said. “We had a good time.”

He sounded so surprised, Carly wanted to cuff him. If he'd spent more time with his daughter, he would know that when she wasn't being a typical teen, she was a great kid.

“I'm glad to hear that,” Carly said. “What did you two do?”

Tiffany grinned. “We went to the wharf, and that pier place.”

“Pier 39?”

“Yeah. And we took the trip out to Alcatraz. That was pretty cool, but kind of icky. Prison doesn't look as fun as it does in the movies. Oh, and Dad got me this. Isn't it so cool?”

As Tiffany spoke, she pulled up the hem of her T-shirt and exposed the small gold hoop in her belly button.

Carly felt her temperature climb about a hundred and fifty degrees. Anger flared until she knew she could incinerate anyone in her path with just a glare.

“Tell me that's not real,” she said in a low, harsh voice.

Tiffany gave a little shrug. “Dad said it was fine.”

Of course he did, Carly thought, as she turned on her ex-husband.

“What were you thinking?” she demanded. “Neil,
we
agreed no body piercing until she was eighteen.”

“I didn't agree to that,” he said. “What's the big deal?”

She wanted to choke him. Right there, right that minute, she wanted to wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze the life out of him. But she didn't. Not only would it set a really bad example and possibly send her to prison, she didn't think she was physically strong enough to actually hurt him.

“It's a huge deal. We discussed the whole issue several times and we were concerned about what a pierced belly button said about Tiffany. You were totally on board with me. Neil, there are rules for a reason.”

He simply looked uncomfortable and Tiffany looked so smug, Carly wondered if maybe not spanking her as a child had been a mistake.

Carly turned on her daughter. “This isn't over, Tiffany.”

“I have it now and there's nothing you can do about it.”

Want to bet?
But Carly didn't say that. Instead she figured she might as well get all the bad news at once.

“Did you do the homework you were supposed to finish before and didn't?” she asked.

Tiffany smiled again. “Dad said I didn't have to.”

“What?”

Neil winced. “I said it could wait, Tiff. Not that you could blow it off.”

“You've got that right.” Carly narrowed her gaze into the laser stare that always made her daughter uncomfortable. “Get upstairs right now and do your homework.”

“But I don't want to.”

“Do you think anyone here cares about that?”

Tiffany looked at her father. “Dad, tell her not to make me.”

“No way.” Neil took a couple of steps back. “You, ah, probably should have done it before.”

Tiffany glowered at them both before sighing heavily, then grabbing her suitcase and heading inside.

When the front door closed behind her, Carly turned on Neil. “What the hell were you thinking? Dammit, Neil, this wasn't some teen movie you were playing in. You're Tiffany's father. You need to set an example and establish some rules. I know it seems really great to just be the buddy, but the only person that helps is
you.
In the end, Tiffany is left with an unrealistic picture of what the world will be and no skills with which to handle her life.”

“You're such a drag,” he muttered. “I took her. Isn't that good enough?”

He stood on the gravel, kicking at rocks, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked closer to thirteen than forty-three, but without the little-boy charm.

“No,” she said firmly. “It's not good enough. We have to present a united front. You had to know this was a bad idea.”

“I don't get the kid thing.”

“She is your
daughter.
Of your flesh. How can you not love her with every fiber of your being?”

“I love her.”

The silent “sort of” echoed in her ears.

She didn't know how to get through to him. What combination of words would make him understand how important this was?

“You need to be her parent, not her friend. If you aren't willing to sometimes be the bad guy, you're hurting your daughter in more ways than you can imagine.”

“Fine. Whatever. Are we done here?”

She'd never hated Neil before. Not when he'd disappointed her in their marriage, not when he'd told her he was leaving, not when she'd had to move out of her home and uproot Tiffany.

But she hated him now. She could excuse his actions within the context of their marriage, but she would never forgive him for refusing to give a hundred percent where Tiffany was concerned.

The front door opened and Adam stepped out.

After avoiding him for nearly two days, Carly had almost convinced herself that the attraction she felt wasn't real. But even in the middle of her rage, she was able to appreciate his lean good looks and how his smile made her heart beat faster.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked.

Neil jumped forward. “No. Not at all. I was just heading out.” He frowned. “Adam, right? Tiffany mentioned you.”

“Right.”

The two men shook hands. Neil glanced between Adam and Carly.

“He's staying here?” he asked, as if not sure how to put the puzzle pieces together.

“He's here because of Mary,” Carly said, knowing that Neil was now off the hook and would make his escape while there was a third party around to offer protection.

“Mary?”

“The ghost,” Adam told him.

Neil rolled his eyes. “You're not still peddling that dumb story, are you?” He turned to Adam. “She loves that ghost. Thinks she's real. She has all these stories from when she was a kid and Mary was there. What a bunch of crap. Who believes in ghosts these days?”

“I do,” Carly said icily, suddenly anxious to have him gone. She pointedly glanced at her watch. “Unless you want to talk about Tiffany some more, you should probably be going.”

“What? Okay. Sure. Oh, I told Tiffany I'd see her in two weeks. I won't get the boat until the middle of next month, so I have time.”

Great. Wow—everyone should be so thrilled about Neil's commitment to his daughter.

“You're buying a boat?” Adam asked with obvious interest.

“Yeah. A sailboat. She's real sweet, completely updated. I'll have to get in a better nav system, but that's about it.”

“Neil's planning to sail to Hawaii,” Carly said cheerfully.

Adam looked at the other man. “You have an understanding employer.”

“Oh, he doesn't work,” Carly said. “He's trying to find himself and a job gets in the way.”

Neil narrowed his gaze. “It's not like that.”

“Really? What's it like?”

Before he could answer, two cars pulled into the parking lot. Carly recognized them both. Jack showing up presented a minor problem, what with Tiffany about to be grounded, but Steve was a whole other issue.

Why was he here? She didn't think her mother had invited him over, which meant he'd decided to show up all on his own. Great—her ex-husband, the guy who had kissed her socks off and her former math teacher who might or might not be interested in her, all on the same porch. It was a very special moment.

Neil turned toward the cars. “Is that Jack? Tiffany talked about him all weekend. He seems like a nice enough kid, but I want to talk to him. If he and Tiffany are going to date, then he has to respect her.”

Carly resisted the need to stick her finger in her ear and wiggle it around. “They don't date.”

Neil looked at her. “Sure they do.”

“Uh,
no.
They don't. She's too young and she knows that. No car dating. My God, she's only fifteen.”

Jack walked up the stairs. “Hi,” he said, nodding at Carly and Adam.

She drew in a deep breath. “Neil, this is Jack, Tiffany's friend. Jack, this is Tiffany's father.”

Jack stiffened, then held out his hand. “Hi, Mr. Spencer. Nice to meet you.”

Steve walked up the stairs and grinned. “Are we having a party?”

“Seems that way,” Adam said, eyeing the other man. “What brings you out here?”

Steve put his arm around Carly's shoulders and pulled her in close. “Just being neighborly.”

Carly felt everyone's attention on her. Neil looked both shocked and hurt, which once again gave her ideas about strangling him. Not that there was anything going on between her and Steve, but so what if there was? Neil had been the one to walk out on the marriage.

“Okay,” Carly said, moving away from Steve, “time out. This is getting too complicated.” She turned to Neil. “I'm glad you want to see Tiffany again in two weeks. I think it's great. But between now and then, you and I have to talk about ground rules.”

“You're so uptight, Carly,” her ex said. “You gotta loosen up.”

“Where my daughter is concerned, that will happen when hell freezes over. Speaking of which—”

She glanced at Jack who immediately moved down a step. “I didn't do anything.”

“I know. But Tiffany is grounded, so you can't see her now and she's going to lose her phone privileges for a week.” Carly wasn't sure what to say about him seeing Tiffany—Jack had been a big help on the ghost front. And he wasn't the one who had misbehaved. “I may let you come over some evening this week. I don't know.”

Jack shifted uncomfortably. “Sure thing, Mrs. Spencer.”

The teen glanced longingly at the house, then nodded at the adults and went back to his car.

“You're tough,” Steve said with a smile. “Good for you.”

Neil glared at him. “I'm outta here. I have a long drive back to L.A. in the morning.”

“Goodbye,” Carly said, knowing the only way she and Neil were going to have a meaningful conversation about Tiffany was if she, Carly, physically tied him down and tortured him until he listened. While the visual was pleasing, she hated that he was so unwilling to take a little responsibility.

Now there were only two guys and herself. Carly looked between them and wondered what she was supposed to say. Steve touched her arm.