Emily had barely gotten the receiver to her ear when she heard the woman on the other end of the line demand, “To whom am I speaking?”
“Mrs. Brewster, my name is Emily Springer, and Charles and I traded homes for two weeks.”
“You’re living in Charles’s condo?” She didn’t seem to believe Emily.
“Yes, but just until after Christmas.”
“Oh.”
“Charles and I met over the Internet at a site set up for this type of exchange.”
“I see.” The woman went suspiciously silent.
“It’s only for two weeks.”
“You’re telling me my son let you move into his home sight unseen? And that, furthermore, Charles has ventured all the way to the West Coast?” The question sounded as if it came from a prosecuting attorney who’d found undeniable evidence of perjury.
“Yes…I came to Boston to see my daughter.” For the last few days, Emily had tried not to think about Heather, which was nearly impossible.
“Let me speak to Rayburn,” his mother said next.
Emily handed the cell phone back to Ray.
Ray and his mother chatted for another few minutes before he closed the phone and stuck it inside his pocket.
By then the wine had been delivered and poured. Emily reached for her glass and sipped. She enjoyed wine on occasion, but this was a much finer quality than she normally drank.
“Rayburn?” she said, teasing him by using the same tone his mother had used.
He groaned. “If you think that’s bad, my little brother’s given name is actually Hadley.”
“Hadley?”
“Hadley Charles. The minute he was old enough to speak, he refused to let anyone call him Hadley.”
Emily smiled. “I can’t say I blame him.”
“Rayburn isn’t much of an improvement.”
“No, but it’s better than Hadley.”
“That depends.” Ray sipped his wine and sat up straighter when the waiter brought the antipasto plate. It was a meal unto itself, with several varieties of sliced meats, cheese, olives and roasted peppers.
That course was followed by soup and then pasta. Emily was convinced she couldn’t swallow another bite when the main course, a cheese-stuffed chicken dish, was brought out.
When they’d finished, they lingered over another bottle of wine. Ray leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, and they talked, moving from one subject to the next. Emily had hardly ever met a man who was so easy to talk to. He seemed knowledgeable about any number of subjects.
“You’re divorced?” he asked, as they turned to more personal matters.
“Widowed. Eleven years ago. Peter was killed when Heather was just a little girl.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” She could speak of Peter now without pain, but that had taken years. She was a different woman than she’d been back then, as a young wife and mother. “Peter was a good husband and a wonderful father. I still miss him.”
“Is there a reason you’ve never remarried?”
“Not really. I got caught up in Heather’s life and my job. Over the years I’ve dated now and then, but there was never any spark. What about you?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been consumed by my job for so long, I don’t know what it is to have an ordinary life.”
This interested Emily. “I’ve always wondered what an ordinary life would be like. Does anyone really have one?”
“Good point.”
“Did you have any important relationships?”
“I dated quite a bit when I was in my twenties and early thirties. I became seriously involved twice, but both times I realized, almost from the first, that it wouldn’t last.”
“Sounds like a self-fulfilling prophecy to me.”
He grinned as he picked up his wineglass. “My mother said almost those identical words to me. The thing is, I admired both women and, to some extent loved them, but deep down I suspect they knew it wouldn’t last, either.”
“And it didn’t.”
“Right. I put long hours into my job and I have a lot of responsibilities. I love publishing. No one’s more excited than I am when one of our authors does well.”
Emily had plenty of questions about the publishing world, but she knew Ray must have been asked these same questions dozens of times. They had this one evening together, and Emily didn’t want to bore him with idle curiosity.
When they’d finished the second bottle of wine, Emily felt mellow and sleepy. Most of the other tables were vacant, and the crew of waiters had started changing tablecloths and refilling the salt and pepper shakers.
Ray noticed the activity going on around them, too. “What time is it?” he asked, sitting up and glancing at his watch with an unbelieving expression.
“It’s ten to eleven.”
“You’re kidding!” He looked shocked.
“Well, you know what they say about time flying, etc.”
He chuckled softly. “Tonight certainly was an enjoyable evening—but there’s a problem.”
“Oh?”
He downed the last of his wine and announced, “I’m afraid the next train doesn’t leave for New York until tomorrow morning.”
“Oh…right.” Emily had entirely forgotten that Ray would have to catch the train.
He relaxed visibly, apparently finding a solution to his problem. “Not to worry, I’ll get a hotel room. That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Without a reservation, she wondered if that was true. Furthermore, she hated the thought of him spending that extra money on her account. “You don’t need to do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your brother’s condo has two bedrooms.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m sleeping in the guest room, and I’m sure your brother wouldn’t object to your taking his room.”
Ray hesitated and looked uncertain. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with that arrangement?”
“Of course.”
That was easy to say after two bottles of wine. Had Emily been completely sober, she might not have—but really, what could it hurt?
She decided that question was best left unanswered.
Chapter Eleven
Heather Springer wrapped her arms tightly around Elijah’s waist, the sound of the wind roaring in her ears. She laid her head against his muscular back and relished the feel of his firm body so close to her own. Three other Harleys, all with passengers, zoomed down the interstate on their way to the white sandy beaches of Florida.
Try as she might, Heather couldn’t stop thinking about the bewildered look on her mother’s face when she learned Heather had made her own plans for the Christmas holidays.
The least her mother could’ve done was let her know she was flying to Boston. It was supposed to be a big surprise—well, it definitely was that. Actually, it was more of a shock, and not a pleasant one. Heather had hoped for the proper time to tell her mother about Elijah. That opportunity, unfortunately, had been taken away from her.
Heather sighed. She was grateful when Elijah pulled into a rest area near Daytona Beach. He climbed off the Harley and removed his helmet, shaking his head to release his long hair.
Heather watched as the other motorcycles pulled into nearby spaces. Heather was proud that Elijah led the way in this adventure. Being with him during the holidays was thrilling, and she wasn’t about to let her stick-in-the-mud, old-fashioned mother ruin it.
Elijah was different from any boy Heather had ever dated. The others paled by comparison, especially Ben who was traditional and frankly boring. All he thought about was school and work and getting his law degree. For once, just once, she wanted to think about something besides grades and scholarship money. She wanted to live.
She’d met Elijah at Starbucks, and they’d struck up a conversation. That was in early October, and after meeting him everything had changed. Never before had she been in love like this. It was exciting a
nd crazy and new. Elijah’s world was completely unlike her own, and she knew their differences were what made him so attractive. He was dark, wild, dangerous—all she’d ever craved. She wanted to share his life, share everything with him. Heather felt pleased that he was introducing her to his friends, but she’d noticed he wasn’t interested in meeting hers. That hadn’t bothered her until recently. Heather didn’t know the other bikers and their girlfriends very well, but she liked them and hoped for the chance to connect.
“Feel that sunshine,” Elijah said. He closed his eyes and tilted his face toward the sun.
Heather removed her own helmet and slid off the Harley. “It’s not as warm as I thought it would be.” She didn’t want to complain, but she’d assumed the temperature would be in the seventies; it was closer to the fifties. This wasn’t exactly swimming-in-the-ocean kind of weather.
“Once we’re in the Miami Beach area you’ll be hot enough,” Elijah promised. “Until then I’ll keep you warm.” He circled her waist with his massive arms.
She turned in his embrace, kissing him lightly.
“I thought we’d hang out here for a while,” he murmured.
“That sounds good to me.” Heather didn’t want to admit how much her backside ached, especially when the others didn’t seem to have any such complaint. She’d heard one of the girls comment that Heather was walking oddly and then giggle. Heather pretended not to hear. She wasn’t one of them, but she badly wanted to be. Given a chance, she’d prove herself, she vowed.
Soon the eight of them were sprawled out on the grass. Elijah lay on his back, his head resting on Heather’s lap. She sat leaning against a palm tree.
“You okay?” Elijah asked.
“Of course.” She tried to make light of her feelings, rather than confess what she was really thinking.
“You’ve been pretty quiet.”
Heather slipped her fingers through his hair. “I suppose.”
“I bet it’s your mother.”
Heather sighed and realized she couldn’t hide her thoughts any longer. “She might’ve said something, you know.”
Elijah nodded. “You couldn’t have known she was planning to fly in for Christmas.”
Heather twirled a lock of his dark hair around her finger. “She didn’t even hint at her plans. It’s like she expected me to abandon everything just because she showed up in Boston.”
“Parents are unreasonable.”
“Yeah.” Still, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to go away.
“It’s better with just you and me,” he whispered.
Heather didn’t bother to mention that there were three other couples tagging along. In the beginning, it was supposed to be just the two of them. But as soon as word got out, several of Elijah’s friends had asked to join them. He’d agreed without discussing it with Heather. She hadn’t said anything, but she was disappointed.
She’d had their first Christmas together all planned out. Once they reached Miami or the Keys, she’d make this Christmas as special for him as her mother had always made the holiday for her. They’d decorate a tree, sing carols on the beach and open small gifts to each other.
Thinking about her mother depressed her.
“You’ve got that look again,” Elijah muttered, frowning up at her.
“Sorry.”
“Forget about her, okay?”
“I’m trying, but it’s hard. I wonder what she’s doing and who she’s with.” The thought of her mother all alone tugged at Heather’s heart, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop feeling guilty. She steeled herself against those emotions. If anyone was to blame for this fiasco, it was her mother, not her!
“You’ve got to let go of this, or it’ll ruin everything,” Elijah warned.
“I know.”
“You said you and your mother were tight.”
“We used to be.” Heather knew that nothing would be the same again, and she was glad, she told herself fiercely. Well, maybe not glad exactly, but relieved that her mother knew about Elijah.
“It’s time she understood that you’re your own woman and you make your own decisions.”
Elijah was repeating the same things she’d told her mother, the same things she’d been saying to herself from the moment they left Boston. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. She can’t dictate to you anymore, you know.”
Heather agreed in principle, but that didn’t do a thing to ease the knot in her stomach. “I’d feel better if I talked to her.”
“You already did.”
That was true, but Heather had lingering doubts about their conversation. She’d been shocked and angry when she’d learned her mother was in town. Everything she’d worked toward all these weeks was in danger, and she refused to let her mother ruin her plans.
Elijah studied her, his gaze narrowed. “You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?”
“About what? Us?” Heather pressed her hands gently against the sides of Elijah’s bearded face and stared down at him, letting her love for him fill her eyes. “Oh, Elijah, about us? Never.” As if to prove her undying love and devotion, she lowered her mouth to his.
Elijah was a seductive kisser, and he brought his muscular arms around her neck and half lifted his head to meet her lips. His mouth was moist and sensual and before long, any thoughts of her mother vanished completely.
When Elijah released her, Heather kept her eyes closed and sighed softly.
“Are you still worried about your mother?” he teased.
“Mother? What mother?”
Elijah chuckled. “That’s what I figured.”
Oh, how she loved her motorcycle man.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
The prospect of climbing back on the Harley didn’t thrill her, but she tried to sound enthusiastic. “Anytime you say.”
Elijah rewarded her with a smile. “And the guys said you’d be trouble.”
“Me?”
“College girls generally are.”
“So I’m not your first college girl?”
He laughed, but the sound lacked amusement. “I’ve been around.”
She ignored that. She didn’t want to hear about any of his other women, because she was determined it would be different with her.
They were good for each other. With Elijah she could throw away her good-girl image and discover her real self. At the same time, she’d teach him about love and responsibility. She didn’t know exactly how he made his money, although he always seemed to have enough for gas and beer. But Heather wasn’t concerned about that right now; she was determined to enjoy herself.
In one graceful movement Elijah leaped to his feet and stood. As soon as he was upright, the others started to move, too. He was their unspoken leader, their guide to adventure. And Heather was his woman, and she loved it.
Elijah offered Heather his hand, which she took. She brushed the grass and grit from her rear and started back across the grass and the parking lot to where he’d parked the Harley.
Elijah gave Heather her helmet. “You don’t need to feel guilty about your mother,” he said.
“I don’t.” But she did. “Still, I think I should call her.”
“I thought you said she doesn’t have a cell phone.”
“She doesn’t.”
“Do you know where she’s staying?”
“No…but—”
“It’s out of the question, then, isn’t it?”
Heather was forced to agree. Even if she wanted to, she realized in an instant of panic, she had no way of reaching her mother.
Chapter Twelve
“How much?” Faith Kerrigan couldn’t believe what the airline representative on the phone was telling her. According to what he said, her flight back to California would cost nearly twice as much as her original ticket.
“That’s if I can find you a seat,” he added.
“Oh.” Faith could feel a headache coming on. She press
ed her fingertips to her temple, which didn’t help.
“Do you want me to check for an available flight?” the man asked.
“I—no.” Her other option was to wait until there was a rental car available, with a different agency if necessary, and then drive back to California. The fees couldn’t possibly be as steep as what the airlines wanted to charge. One thing was certain—she couldn’t stay in Leavenworth. She hauled out Emily’s phone book and began to call the local car rental places.
This entire Christmas was a disaster. If only she’d talked to Emily before she booked her flight. Oh, no, she groaned to herself, that would have been far too sensible. She’d wanted to surprise her friend. Some surprise! Instead, she was the one who’d gotten the shock of her life.
Sam, Tony and the other dwarfs tiptoed around the house as quietly as possible, not wanting to intrude on the curmudgeon. What an unlikable fellow he was! But at least he’d been kind enough not to cast them into the cold dark night. She reminded herself that he’d only delayed it until morning—which made it difficult to maintain much gratitude.
Faith hadn’t seen Charles yet. The den door was closed and she could only assume he was on his computer, doing whatever it was he found so important.
“It’s time we left,” Sam announced once she was off the phone.
Faith still didn’t know what she’d do, but the problem was hers and hers alone. Santa and the small troupe of dwarfs gathered around and watched her with anxious expressions.
“Are you sure you’ll be safe with him?” Tony motioned toward the closed door. Judging by the intense look he wore, he seemed to welcome the opportunity to share his opinion of Charles—with Charles himself.
Faith resisted the urge to kiss his forehead for being so sweet. “I’ll be perfectly fine, don’t you worry.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt, but she wanted to send her friends off without burdening them with her troubles.
Sam hesitated, as if he wasn’t convinced he should believe her. He scratched his white beard, frowning. “You have a way back to California?”