Right Next Door

Right Next Door Page 38

“You were imagining things,” she said, offering him a false smile.

“No, I wasn’t. I felt guilty, too.”

“Guilty?” she cried. “Whatever for?”

“Because I told you about Gloria and didn’t ask about your husband. It would’ve been the perfect time for you to tell me.”

Carol’s stomach lurched. “That was a long time ago…and best forgotten.”

“But you loved him and were saddened by his death, and I should’ve realized that talking about Gloria would be especially painful for you. I should have been more sensitive.”

She shut her eyes. “There’s no reason to feel guilty. You talked openly and honestly, and I appreciated knowing about your wife.”

“Maybe so,” Alex conceded, “but I frightened you, and now you’re feeling confused.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth.” She continued to work, dragging the trowel through the damp soil.

Alex chuckled softly. He gripped her shoulders and turned her toward him as he scanned her features. “You shouldn’t lie, Carol Sommars. Because you blush every time you do.”

“That’s ridiculous.” As if on cue, she felt her cheeks grow pink. Carol groaned inwardly, furious with Alex and even more so with herself.

“No, it isn’t ridiculous.” He paused, and his mouth quivered as he studied her. “You’re doing it now.”

“Where are the boys?”

Alex’s chuckle deepened. “Don’t try changing the subject—it isn’t going to work.”

“Alex, please.”

“Hey, Mom, you’ll never guess what!”

Grateful for the distraction, Carol dragged her eyes away from Alex and turned to her son, who stood on the patio, looking exceptionally pleased.

“What is it, Peter?”

“James and Mr. Preston brought over one of those fancy, heavy-duty tillers. They’re going to dig up that garden space you’ve been talking about for the past two summers.”

Carol’s gaze flew back to Alex’s, full of unspoken questions.

“You said something last night about wanting to grow an herb garden, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but why…I mean, you don’t have to do this.” She felt flustered and surprised and overwhelmed that he’d take a casual comment seriously and go out of his way to see that her wish was fulfilled.

“Of course I don’t have to, but I want to. Peter and James and I are your willing servants, isn’t that right, boys?” Neither bothered to answer, being far more interested in sorting through the CDs Peter had set out.

Two hours later, Carol had been delegated to the kitchen by all three men, who claimed she was a world-class nuisance.

“Mom,” Peter said, “do something constructive like make lunch. You’re in the way here.”

Slightly taken aback by her son’s assessment of her role, Carol muttered under her breath and did as he asked. Her ego suffered further when James sent his friend a grateful glance. Even Alex seemed pleased to have her out from under their capable feet.

Twenty minutes later, Alex entered the kitchen. He paused when he saw her stacking sandwiches on a platter. He walked over to her, slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck.

“Alex,” she protested in a fierce whisper, “the boys will see you.”

“So?”

“So, what they’re thinking is bad enough without you adding fuel to the fire.”

“They’re too busy to care.”

“I care!”

His growl was low as he slid his hand from her navel up her midriff. “I know.”

“If you don’t stop I’ll…I’ll…I’m not sure what I’ll do—but it won’t be pleasant.” Her threat was an empty one, and Alex knew it as well as she did. She was trembling the way she always did when he touched her. The more intimate the caress, the more she shivered.

“I told the boys I was coming inside to pester you, and I’m nothing if not a man of my word,” Alex informed her, clearly relishing her shyness.

“Alex…”

“Don’t say it,” he murmured. “I already know—this isn’t the time or the place. I agree, but I don’t have to like it.” Slowly and with great reluctance, he released her.

Carol was aware of every nuance of this man. He made the most innocent caress sweet with sensations. His touch only created a need for more. Much more.

Once he’d released her, Carol sighed with relief—or was it regret? She no longer had any idea. She carried the platter of sandwiches to the table and brought out a pitcher of fresh lemonade.

Alex pulled out a chair and sat down. “I like watching you move,” he whispered. “I like touching you even more.”

“Alex…please don’t. You’re making me blush.”

He laughed lightly. “I like that, too. Being with you makes me feel alive again. I hadn’t realized how…desensitized I’d become to life. The first time we kissed I discovered what I’d been missing. All those arranged dates, all those wasted evenings—and all that time you were right under my nose and I didn’t even know it.”

“I…I think I’ll put out two kinds of chips,” Carol said, completely unsettled by the way he spoke so openly, so frankly.

“You’re beautiful.” His eyes were dark, filled with the promise of things to come. “So beautiful…”

“Alex, please.” She leaned against the counter, overwhelmed by his words.

“I can’t help it. I feel as though I’ve been granted a second chance at life. Tell me I’m not behaving like an idiot. Tell me you feel it, too.”

She did feel everything he did, more profoundly than she dared let him know. “We’ve both been alone too long,” she said. “People in situations like ours must think these kinds of thoughts all the time.”

Her comment didn’t please him. He frowned and slowly stood. “You may find this difficult to believe, Carol, but there hasn’t been anyone since Gloria who made me feel the things you do. And trust me, there’ve been plenty who tried.”

Gulping, Carol whirled around and made busy work opening a bag of potato chips.

Alex joined her, leaning against the counter and facing her so she couldn’t ignore him. “You, on the other hand, don’t even need to touch me to make me respond. You might not want to admit it, but it’s the same for you.”

“When you decide to pester someone, you don’t do it by half measures, do you?” she muttered.

“Admit it, Carol.”

“I…”

He slid his lips across hers. “Are you ready to admit it yet?”

“No, I—”

He bent forward and kissed her again.

Carol’s knees buckled and she swayed toward him.

Alex instantly reached for her. Without question, without protest, Carol fell into his arms, so hungry for his touch, she felt as if she were on fire.

The sound of someone clearing his throat was followed by, “Hey, we’re not interrupting anything, are we?” Peter was standing just inside the kitchen. “In case you two haven’t noticed, it’s lunchtime.”

Seven

Alex pressed one knee down on the green and stretched out his putter, judging the distance to the hole with a sharp eye. He’d been playing golf with Barney every Sunday afternoon for years.

“So when do I get to meet this female dynamo?” Barney asked after Alex had successfully completed the shot.

“I don’t know yet,” Alex said as he retrieved his golf ball. He inserted the putter back inside his bag before striding toward the cart.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Barney echoed. “What’s with you and this woman? I swear you’ve been a different man since you met her. You stare off into space with this goofy look on your face. I talk to you and you don’t hear me, and when I ask you about her, you get defensive.”

“I’m not defensive, I’m in love.”

“Alex, buddy, listen to the voice of experience. You’re not in love, you’re in lust. I recognize that gleam in your eye. Ten to one you haven’t slept with her yet. So I recommend that you get her in the sack and be done with it before you end up doing something foolish.”

Alex’s gaze fired briefly as he looked at his friend. How did Barney know the progress of his relationship with Carol?

“I have every intention of sleeping with her. Only I plan to be doing that every night for the rest of my life. Carol’s not the type of woman to have a fling, and I refuse to insult her by suggesting one.”

Barney stared at Alex as if seeing him for the first time. “I don’t think I ever realized what an old-fashioned guy you are. Apparently you haven’t noticed, but the world’s become a lot more casual. Our clothes are casual, our conversations are casual and yes, even our sex is casual. In case you hadn’t heard, you don’t have to marry a woman to take her to bed.”

“Continue in this vein,” Alex said, “and you’re going to become a casual friend.”

Barney rolled his eyes dramatically. “See what I mean?”

If three wives hadn’t been able to change Barney’s attitude, Alex doubted he could, either. “As I recall, the last time we had this conversation,” Alex reminded him, “you said settling down was the thing to do. I’m only following your advice.”

“But not yet,” Barney said. “You haven’t played the field enough. There are riches out there—” he gestured with his hands “—female gold nuggets just waiting to be picked up, then set gently back in place for the next treasure-hunter.”

“You mean like Bambi and what was the name of the other one? Barbie?”

“Stop being clever,” Barney snickered. “I have your best interests at heart, and frankly I’m concerned. Two years after Gloria’s gone, you suddenly announce it’s time to start dating again. Man, I was jumping up and down for joy. Then you go out with a grand total of ten different women—most of them only once—and calmly inform me you’ve met the one. You plan to marry her, just like that, and you haven’t even slept with her yet. How are you going to find out if you’re sexually compatible?”

“We’re compatible, trust me.”

“You may think so now, but bingo, once she’s got a wedding band, it’s a totally different story.”

“Stop worrying, would you?” Alex eased his golf cart into his assigned space. From the day he’d decided to look for another wife, Barney had been a constant source of amusement. The problem was, his most hilarious moments had come in the form of women his friend had insisted he meet.

“But, Alex, I am worried about you,” Barney muttered as he lifted his clubs from the back of the cart. “You don’t know women the way I do. They’re scheming, conniving, money-hungry, and how they get their clutches into you is by marriage. Don’t be so eager to march up the aisle with Carol. I don’t want you to go through what I have.”