Right Next Door

Right Next Door Page 19

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Robin said, but she doubted Cole even heard her.

“After the accident, the anger and the grief were a constant gnawing pain. I refused to acknowledge or deal with either emotion. Over the years, instead of healing, I let the agony of my loss grow more intense. I closed myself off from friends and colleagues and threw myself into work, spending far more time in the office than I did at home. Blackie was virtually my only companion. And then a few years ago I started working on my place in the country. But the pleasure that gave me came from hard physical work, the kind that leaves you too tired to think.” His features softened and he smiled at her. “I’d forgotten what it was like to fly a kite or laze in the sunshine.”

“That’s why you suggested the picnic with Jeff and me?”

He grinned and his dark eyes seemed almost boyish. “The last time I was in Golden Gate Park was with Bobby, shortly before the accident. Deciding to have a picnic there was a giant step for me. I half expected to feel pangs of grief, if not a full-blown assault. Instead I experienced joy—and appreciation for the renewal I felt. Laughter is a gift I’d forgotten. You and Jeff helped me see that, as well.”

Everything Cole was saying confirmed her worst fears.

“Mom!” Jeff roared into the kitchen with Blackie at his heels. “Is there anything to eat? Are you guys still going out to dinner? I don’t suppose you’d bring me, would you?”

Cole chuckled, then leapt to his feet to playfully muss Jeff’s hair. “Not this time, sport. Tonight’s for your mother and me.”

Two hours later, as Robin stood in front of the bathroom mirror, she had her reservations about this dinner date. She was falling in love with a man who hadn’t fully dealt with the pain of losing his wife and his son. Perhaps she recognized it in Cole because she saw the same thing in herself. She loved Lenny and always would. He’d died years ago, and she still found herself talking to him, refusing to involve herself in another relationship. A part of her continued to grieve and she suspected it always would.

Examining herself in the mirror, Robin surveyed her calf-length skirt of soft blue velvet and white silk blouse with a pearl necklace.

She was fussing with her hair, pinning one side back with combs and studying the effect, when Jeff wandered in. He leaned casually against the doorway, a bag of potato chips in his hand.

“Hey, you look nice.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” She decided she’d spent enough time on her hair and fastened her pearl earrings. Jeff was disappointed about not joining them, but he’d been a good sport—especially after Cole promised him lunch at a fish-and-chip place on the Wharf the following Saturday.

“You’re wearing your pearls,” Jeff mumbled, his mouth full.

“Yes,” Robin said, turning to face him. “Do they look all right?”

Jeff’s halfhearted shrug didn’t do a lot to boost Robin’s confidence. “I suppose. I don’t know about stuff like that. Mrs. Lawrence could probably tell you.” He popped another potato chip in his mouth and crunched loudly. “My dad gave you those earrings, didn’t he? And the necklace?”

“For our first wedding anniversary.”

Jeff nodded. “I thought so.” His look grew reflective. “When I grow up and get married, will I do mushy stuff like that?”

“Probably,” Robin said, not bothering to disguise her amusement. “And lots of other things, too. Like taking your wife out to dinner and telling her how beautiful she is and how much you love her.”

“Yuck!” Jeff wrinkled his nose. “You really know how to ruin a guy’s appetite.” With that he turned to march down the stairs, taking his potato chips with him.

Robin stood at the top of the staircase. “Cole will be here any minute, so you can go over to Kelly’s now,” she called down.

“Okay. I put my plate in the dishwasher. Is there anything you want me to tell Kelly’s mom?”

“Just that I won’t be too late.”

“You’re sure I can’t come with you?” Jeff tried one more time.

Robin didn’t give him an answer, knowing he didn’t really expect one. After a moment, Jeff grumbled, more for show than anything, then went out the front door to their neighbor’s.

Robin returned to the bathroom and smiled into the mirror, picturing Jeff several years into the future and seeing Lenny’s handsome face smiling back at her. She was warmed by the image, certain that her son would grow into as fine a young man as his father had been.

“You don’t mind that I’m wearing the pearls for Cole, do you?” she asked her dead husband, although she knew he wouldn’t have objected. She ran the tips of her fingers over the earrings, feeling reassured.

The doorbell chimed just as Robin was dabbing perfume on her wrists. She drew in a calming breath, glanced quickly at her reflection one last time, then walked down the stairs to answer the door.

Cole was dressed in a black pin-striped suit and looked so handsome that her breath caught. He smiled as she let him in, but for the life of her she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

His eyes held hers as he reached for her hands. Slowly he lowered his gaze, taking in the way she’d styled her hair, the pearl necklace and the outfit she’d chosen with such care.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

“I was just thinking the same about you,” she confessed.

His mouth tilted in a grin. “If I kiss you, will it ruin your lipstick?”

“Probably.”

“I’m going to kiss you, anyway,” he said in a husky murmur. Tenderly he fit his mouth to hers, slipping his fingers through her hair. The kiss was gentle and thorough and slow. A single kiss, and she was like clay ready to be molded. The realization struck her hard—when Cole touched her, Robin felt alive all the way to the soles of her feet. Alive. Healthy. A red-blooded woman. He released her, and she was shocked to find she was trembling. From the inside out.

“I’ve mussed your hair,” he apologized. His hands slid under the soft cloud of hair to her nape.

“And you’ve got lipstick on your mouth,” she said with a quaver, reaching up to wipe it away. “There. It’ll only take me a moment to fix my hair,” she said, picking up her purse and moving to the hallway mirror.

He stood behind her, hands on her shoulders as she brushed her hair, then carefully tucked the loose curls back into place with the tortoiseshell combs.

“Are you ready?” he asked when she’d finished.

Robin nodded, unable to speak.

Cole led her outside to his car and held the passenger door. He dropped a quick kiss on her unsuspecting lips, then hurried around the car, his movements lighthearted, and got into the driver’s seat.

“You didn’t tell me where we’re having dinner.”

“I told Heather Lawrence in case she needs to get hold of you, but otherwise it’s a surprise.”

Robin wasn’t sure what to think. A number of San Francisco’s restaurants were internationally famous, but her knowledge of fancy dining places was limited. She assumed this one was somewhere in the heart of the city, until he exited from the freeway heading south along Highway 101 toward the ocean.

“Cole?” she asked hesitantly.

“Don’t worry,” he said, casting her a swift glance that didn’t conceal the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I promise you dinner will be worth the drive.”

The restaurant sat high on a cliff, with a stunning view of the surf battering the jagged rocks below.

Cole parked the Porsche, then came around to help her out, taking the opportunity to steal another kiss. It was with obvious reluctance that he let her go. His arm around her waist, he directed her toward the doors leading into the elegant restaurant. The maître d’ escorted them to a table that overlooked the water and with a flourish presented them with elaborate menus.

Robin scanned the entrées, impressed with the interesting variations on basic themes. She was less impressed with the prices—a single dinner cost as much as an entire week’s worth of lunches. For her and Jeff.

“When you said fancy you weren’t joking, were you?” she whispered, biting her lip.

Cole lowered his menu and sent her a vibrant smile. “Tonight is special,” he said simply.

“You’re telling me. If I wasn’t having dinner with you, I’d probably have eaten a toasted cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup with Jeff.”

Their waiter appeared and they ordered wine—a bottle of sauvignon blanc. Then they each chose the restaurant’s specialty—a scallop and shrimp sauté—which proved as succulent and spicy as the menu had promised.

They talked through dinner and afterward, over steaming cups of Irish coffee. It astonished Robin that they had so much to say to each other, although they hadn’t touched on the issue closest to her heart. But she hesitated to broach the subject of Cole’s relationship with Jeff. She didn’t want to risk the delightful camaraderie they were sharing tonight. Their conversation could have gone on for hours and in fact did. They talked about books they’d read, recent movies they’d seen, music they liked. It came as a pleasant surprise to discover that their tastes were similar.

All evening they laughed, they argued, they talked, as if they’d been friends most of their lives. Cole grinned so often, it was hard for Robin to remember that at one time she’d actually wondered if the man ever smiled.

Robin told Cole about her job and how much she enjoyed accounting. She voiced her fears about not being the kind of mother she wanted to be for Jeff. “There are so many things I want to share with him that I don’t have time for. There just aren’t enough hours in a day.”

Cole talked about his career goals and his dreams. He spoke of the forty acres willed to him by his grandfather and how he’d once hoped to close himself off from the world by moving there.

“But you aren’t going to now?” Robin asked.

“No. I no longer have any reason to hide. The house is nearly finished and I may still move there, but I’ll maintain my work schedule.” He stared down into his coffee. “I was approached last week about running for the state senate.”

Robin’s heart swelled with pride. “Are you going to do it?”

“No. I’m not the right man for politics. I’ll support someone else, but a political career doesn’t interest me. It never has, although I’ll admit I’m flattered.”

A band started playing then, and several couples took to the dance floor.

“Shall we?” Cole asked, nodding in that direction.

“Oh, Cole, I don’t know. The last time I danced was at my cousin’s wedding ten years ago. I’m afraid I’ll step all over your feet.”

“I’m game if you are.”

She was reluctant but agreed to try. They stood, and she moved naturally into his embrace, as if they’d been partners for years. Robin’s eyes slowly closed when Cole folded her in his arms, and in that moment she experienced a surge of joy that startled her with its intensity.