Right Next Door

  He kissed her again, even more gently than the first time. Robin moaned softly, not in protest, but in wonder and surprise. It had been so long since a man had kissed her like this. So long that she’d forgotten the wealth of sensations a mere kiss could evoke. Her hands crept to his chest, and her fingers curled into the soft wool of his sweater. Hesitantly, timidly, her lips trembled beneath his. Cole sighed and took full possession of her mouth.

  Robin sighed, too. The tears that welled in her eyes were a shock. She was at a loss to explain them. They slipped down her face, and it wasn’t until then that she realized she was crying.

  Cole must have felt her tears at the same moment, because he abruptly broke off the kiss and raised his head. His eyes searched hers as his thumb brushed the moisture from her cheek.

  “Did I hurt you?” The question was whispered.

  She shook her head vehemently.

  “Then why…?”

  “I don’t know.” She couldn’t explain something she didn’t understand herself. Rubbing her eyes, she attempted to wipe away the evidence. She forced a smile. “I’m nothing if not novel,” she said with brittle cheerfulness. “I don’t imagine many women break into tears when you kiss them.”

  Cole looked as confused as Robin felt.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” She wanted to reassure him, but was having too much trouble analyzing her own reactions.

  “Let’s sit down and talk about this.”

  “No,” she said quietly. Adamantly. That was the last thing she wanted. “I’m sorry, Cole. I really am. This has never happened before and I don’t understand it either.”

  “But…”

  “The best thing we can do is chalk it up to a long workweek.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Probably, but I’d prefer to just forget it. Please?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Emotionally or physically?” She tried to joke, but didn’t succeed.

  “Both.”

  He was so serious, so concerned, that it was all Robin could do not to dissolve into fresh tears. She’d made a world-class fool of herself with this man, not once but twice.

  This man, who had suffered such a tremendous loss himself, was so gentle with her, and instead of helping, that only made matters worse. “I’m sorry, really I am,” she said raggedly, “but perhaps you should go home now.”

  Four

  “You know what I’m in the mood for?” Angela Lansky said as she sat on the edge of Robin’s desk early Monday afternoon.

  “I certainly hope you’re going to say food,” Robin teased. They had shared the same lunch hour and were celebrating a cost-of-living raise by eating out.

  “A shrimp salad,” Angela elaborated. “Heaped six inches high with big fresh shrimp.”

  “I was thinking Chinese food myself,” Robin said, “but, now that you mention it, shrimp salad sounds good.” She opened her bottom drawer and took out her purse.

  Angela was short and enviably thin with thick brown hair that fell in natural waves over her shoulders. She used clips to hold the abundant curls away from her face and looked closer to twenty than the thirty-five Robin knew her to be.

  “I know just the place,” Angela was saying. “The Blue Crab. It’s on the wharf and worth the trouble of getting there.”

  “I’m game,” Robin said.

  They stopped at the bank, then headed for the restaurant. They decided to catch the Market Street cable car to Fisherman’s Wharf and joined the quickly growing line.

  “So how’s the kid doing?” Angela asked. She and her salesman husband didn’t plan to have children themselves, but Angela enjoyed hearing about Jeff.

  “He signed up for baseball through the park program and starts practice this week. I think it’ll be good for him. He was lonely this weekend now that Blackie’s back with Cole.”

  “But isn’t Blackie over at your place as much as before?” Angela asked.

  Robin shook her head. “Cole left early Saturday morning and took the dog with him. Jeff moped around for most of the weekend.”

  “Where’d your handsome neighbor go?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” Robin asked with a soft laugh, hiding her disappointment at his disappearance. “Cole doesn’t clear his schedule with me.”

  The way he’d left—without a word of farewell or explanation—still hurt. It was the kind of hurt that came from realizing what a complete fool she’d made of herself with this worldly, sophisticated man. He’d kissed her and she’d started crying. Good grief, he was probably doing backflips in order to avoid seeing her again.

  “Do you think Cole was with a woman?”

  “That’s none of my business!”

  “But I thought your neighbor said Cole spent his weekends with a woman.”

  Robin didn’t remember mentioning that to Angela, but she obviously had, along with practically everything else. Robin had tried to convince herself that confiding in Angela about Cole was a clever way of thwarting her friend’s matchmaking efforts. Unfortunately, the whole thing had backfired in her face. In the end, the last person she wanted to talk about was Cole, but of course Angela persisted in questioning her.

  “Well?” Angela demanded. “Did he spend his weekend with a woman or not?”

  “What he does with his time is his business, not mine,” Robin reiterated. She pretended not to care. But she did. Too much. She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to put any stock in the kiss or the powerful attraction she felt for Cole. Within the space of one evening, she’d wiped out every pledge she’d made to herself. She hadn’t said anything to Jeff—how could she?—but she was just as disappointed as he was that Cole had left for the weekend.

  “I was hoping something might develop between the two of you,” Angela murmured. “Since you’re obviously not interested in meeting Frank, it would be great if you got something going with your neighbor.”

  Robin cast her a plaintive look that suggested otherwise. “Cole Camden lives in the fanciest house in the neighborhood. He’s a partner in the law firm of Blackwell, Burns and Dailey, which we both know is one of the most prestigious in San Francisco. And he drives a car with a name I can barely pronounce. Now, what would someone like that see in me?”

  “Lots of things,” Angela said.

  Robin snickered. “I hate to disillusion you, my friend, but the only thing Cole Camden and I have in common is the fact that my small yard borders his massive one.”

  “Maybe,” Angela agreed, raising her eyebrows. “But I could tell you were intrigued by him the very first time you mentioned his name.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “It isn’t,” Angela insisted. “I’ve watched you with other men over the past few years. A guy will show some interest, and at first everything looks peachy-keen. You’ll go out with him a couple of times, maybe even more, but before anything serious can develop you’ve broken off the relationship without really giving it a chance.”

  Robin didn’t have much of an argument, since that was true, but she made a token protest just the same. “I can’t help it if I have high standards.”

  “High standards!” Angela choked back a laugh. “That’s got to be the understatement of the century. You’d find fault with Prince Charming.”

  Robin rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile. Angela was right, although that certainly hadn’t slowed her matchmaking efforts.

  “From the time you started talking about your neighbor,” Angela went on, “I noticed something different about you, and frankly I’m thrilled. In all the years we’ve known each other, this is the first time I can remember you giving a man this much attention. Until now, it’s always been the other way around.”

  “I’m not interested in Cole,” she mumbled. “Oh, honestly, Angela, I can’t imagine where you come up with these ideas. I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

  Angela waved her index finger under Robin’s nose.
“Listen, I’m on to you. You’re not going to divert me with humor, or weasel your way out of admitting it. You can’t fool me—you’re attracted to this guy and it’s scaring you to death. Right?”

  The two women gazed solemnly at each other, both too stubborn to admit defeat. Under the force of her friend’s unyielding determination, Robin was the one who finally gave in.

  “All right!” she cried, causing the other people waiting for the cable car to turn and stare. “All right,” she repeated in a whisper. “I like Cole, but I don’t understand it.”

  Angela’s winged brows arched speculatively. “He’s attractive and wealthy, crazy about your son, generous and kind, and you haven’t figured it out yet?”

  “He’s also way out of my league.”

  “I wish you’d quit categorizing yourself. You make it sound as though you aren’t good enough for him, and that’s not true.”

  Robin just sighed.

  The cable car appeared then, its bell clanging as it drew to a stop. Robin and Angela boarded and held on tight.

  Jeff loved hearing about the history of the cable cars, and Robin loved telling him the story. Andrew Hallidie had designed them because of his deep love for horses. Day after day, Hallidie had watched them struggling up and down the treacherous hills of the city, dragging heavy burdens. Prompted by his concern for the animals, he’d invented the cable cars that are pulled by a continuously moving underground cable. To Jeff and to many others, Andrew Hallidie was a hero.

  Robin and Angela were immediately caught up in the festive atmosphere of Fisherman’s Wharf. The rows of fishing boats along the dock bobbed gently with the tide, and although Robin had never been to the Mediterranean the view reminded her of pictures she’d seen of French and Italian harbors.

  The day was beautiful, the sky blue and cloudless, the ocean sparkling the way it did on a summer day. This spring had been exceptionally warm. It wasn’t uncommon for Robin to wear a winter coat in the middle of July, especially in the mornings, when there was often a heavy fog accompanied by a cool mist from the Bay. But this spring, they’d experienced some lovely weather, including today’s.

  “Let’s eat outside,” Angela suggested, pointing at a free table on the patio.

  “Sure,” Robin agreed cheerfully. The Blue Crab was a popular restaurant and one of several that lined the wharf. More elegant dining took place inside, but the pavement was crowded with diners interested in a less formal meal.

  Once they were seated, Robin and Angela were waited on quickly and ordered their shrimp salads.

  “So,” Angela said, spreading out her napkin while closely studying Robin. “Tell me more about your neighbor.”

  Robin froze. “I thought we were finished with this subject. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’d prefer not to discuss Cole.”

  “I noticed, but unfortunately I was just getting started. It’s unusual for you to be so keen on a man, and I know hardly anything about him. It’s time, Robin Masterson, to tell all.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. I already told you everything I care to,” Robin said crossly. She briefly wondered if Angela had guessed that Cole had kissed her. At the rate things were going, she’d probably end up admitting it before lunch was over. Robin wished she could think of some surefire way to change the subject.

  Tall glasses of iced tea arrived and Robin was reaching for a packet of sugar when she heard a masculine chuckle that reminded her instantly of Cole. She paused, savoring the husky sound. Without really meaning to, she found herself scanning the tables, certain Cole was seated a short distance away.

  “He’s here,” she whispered before she could guard her tongue.

  “Who?”

  “Cole. I just heard him laugh.”

  Pushing back her chair in order to get a fuller view of the inside dining area, Robin searched through a sea of faces, but didn’t find her neighbor’s.

  “What’s he look like?” Angela whispered.

  Ten different ways to describe him shot through her mind. To say he had brown hair, neatly trimmed, coffee-colored eyes and was about six foot two seemed inadequate. To add that he was strikingly attractive further complicated the problem.

  “Tell me what to look for,” Angela insisted. “Come on, Robin, this is a golden opportunity. I want to check this guy out. I’m not letting a chance like this slip through my fingers. I’ll bet he’s gorgeous.”

  Reluctantly, Robin continued to scan the diners, but she didn’t see anyone who remotely resembled Cole. Even if she did see him, she wasn’t sure she’d point him out to Angela, although she hated to lie. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to. Perhaps she’d imagined the whole thing. It would’ve been easy enough to do. Angela’s questions had brought Cole to the forefront of her mind; they’d just been discussing him and it was only natural for her to—

  Her heart pounded against her rib cage as Cole walked out of the restaurant foyer. He wasn’t alone. A tall, slender woman with legs that seemed to go all the way up to her neck and a figure as shapely and athletic as a dancer’s was walking beside him. She was blond and, in a word, gorgeous. Robin felt as appealing as milkweed in comparison. The woman’s arm was delicately tucked in Cole’s, and she was smiling up at him with eyes big and blue enough to turn heads.

  Robin’s stomach tightened into a hard knot.

  “Robin,” Angela said anxiously, leaning toward her, “what is it?”

  Cole was strolling past them, and in an effort not to be seen, Robin stuck her head under the table pretending to search for her purse.

  “Robin,” Angela muttered, lowering her own head and peeking under the linen tablecloth, “what’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing.” Other than the fact that she was going to be ill. Other than the fact that she’d never been more outclassed in her life. “I’m fine, really.” A smile trembled on her pale lips.

  “Then what are you doing with your head under the table?”

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe my napkin fell off my lap?”

  “No.”

  A pair of shiny black shoes appeared. Slowly, Robin twisted her head and glanced upward, squinting at the flash of sunlight that nearly blinded her. It was their waiter. Heaving a giant sigh of relief, Robin straightened. The first thing she noticed was that Cole had left.

  The huge shrimp salads were all but forgotten as Angela, eyes narrowed and elbows braced on the table, confronted her. “You saw him, didn’t you?”

  There was no point in pretending otherwise, so Robin nodded.

  “He was with someone?”

  “Not just someone! The most beautiful woman in the world was draped all over his arm.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Angela said. “Don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions? Honestly, she could’ve been anyone.”

  “Uh-huh.” Any fight left in Robin had long since evaporated. There was nothing like seeing Cole with another woman to bring her firmly back to earth—which was right where she belonged.

  “She could’ve been a client.”

  “She probably was,” Robin concurred, reaching for her fork. She didn’t know how she was going to manage one shrimp, let alone a whole plate of them. Heaving another huge sigh, she plowed her fork into the heap of plump pink darlings. It was then that she happened to glance across the street. Cole and Ms. Gorgeous were walking along the sidewalk, engrossed in their conversation. For some reason, known only to the fates, Cole looked across the street at that very moment. His gaze instantly narrowed on her. He stopped midstride as though shocked to have seen her.

  Doing her best to pretend she hadn’t seen him, Robin took another bite of her salad and chewed vigorously. When she glanced up again, Cole was gone.

  “Mom, I need someone to practice with,” Jeff pleaded. He stood forlornly in front of her, a baseball mitt in one hand, a ball in the other.

  “I thought Jimmy was practicing with you.”

  “He had to go home and then Kelly threw me a few pitches, but
she had to go home, too. Besides, she’s a girl.”

  “And what am I?” Robin muttered.

  “You’re a mom,” Jeff answered, clearly not understanding her question. “Don’t you see? I’ve got a chance of making pitcher for our team if I can get someone to practice with me.”

  “All right,” Robin agreed, grumbling a bit. She set aside her knitting and followed her son into the backyard. He handed her his old catcher’s mitt, which barely fit her hand, and positioned her with her back to Cole’s yard.

  Robin hadn’t been able to completely avoid her neighbor in the past week, but she’d succeeded in keeping her distance. For that matter, he didn’t seem all that eager to run into her, either. Just as well, she supposed.

  He stayed on his side of the hedge. She stayed on hers.

  If he passed her on his way to work, he gave an absent wave. She returned the gesture.

  If they happened to be outside at the same time, they exchanged smiles and a polite greeting, but nothing more. It seemed, although Robin couldn’t be sure, that Cole spent less time outside than usual. So did she.

  “Okay,” Jeff called, running to the end of their yard. “Squat down.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Robin shouted indignantly. “I agreed to play catch with you. You didn’t say anything about having to squat!”

  “Mom,” Jeff said impatiently, “think about it. If I’m going to be the pitcher, you’ve got to be the catcher, and catchers have to be low to the ground.”

  Complaining under her breath, Robin sank to her knees, worried the grass would stain her jeans.

  Jeff tossed his arms into the air in frustration. “Not like that!” He said something else that Robin couldn’t quite make out—something about why couldn’t moms be guys.

  Reluctantly, Robin assumed the posture he wanted, but she didn’t know how long her knees would hold out. Jeff wound up his arm and let loose with a fastball. Robin closed her eyes, stuck out the mitt and was so shocked when she caught the ball that she toppled backward into the wet grass.