He held up his glass and stared into the amber liquid, suddenly craving oblivion. All he could think about was Lorraine. Sitting in a sidewalk bar this close to her hotel made his thoughts inevitable.
Finishing his beer, he decided to catch a cab to his own hotel when he strolled by a telephone. Two steps past it, he stopped, turned and went back.
He dialed the operator and put the call on his credit card, then waited for the connection to Boothill, Texas, to go through.
His best friend’s wife answered on the third ring. “Jack, is that you?” Letty shouted.
The connection wasn’t the best. “It’s me. Is Murphy around?”
“He’s vaccinating calves, but listen, I’m glad you phoned. Someone by the name of Thomas Dancy called for you today.”
“Thomas?” he asked in surprise. “I spoke to him last night.” But, in retrospect, he realized that he hadn’t given Thomas a number, a place to reach him. He’d only mentioned the name of Lorraine’s hotel, not where he himself was staying. And Thomas would’ve been able to track down Murphy easily enough; on more than one occasion, Jack had mentioned Murphy and the cattle ranch he owned in the Texas hill country.
“What’s this I hear about you escorting his daughter out of Mexico?” An infant wailed in the background. Their third in four years.
“I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Are you coming for a visit? Murphy would love to see you. So would I.”
“I’m thinking about it,” Jack admitted. One thing was certain: he had to leave Mexico for a while. Get away from the memories and the pain. Reestablish his emotional equilibrium. “Give the kids each a kiss from me,” Jack said, forcing himself to sound as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Hold on just a minute,” Letty said. “I’ve got more news for you.”
Jack heard a clank as she set the telephone aside. Almost immediately the baby’s cries ceased. News? The last time Letty had something to tell him it was about the third addition to their family.
“Are you still there?” Letty asked when she got back on the line.
“I’m here,” he said. He thought of joking that it was costing him five bucks a minute for her to burp the baby, but in reality he wouldn’t have cared if it was ten times that amount. Letty and Murphy were as close as Jack had to a real family, and right now he needed them. Needed to know that couples in love could find happiness in this world.
“Okay,” Letty said, “getting back to that call from your friend Nancy…”
“Dancy,” Jack corrected.
“As long as you know who I mean. He was quite concerned about his daughter.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Do you know anyone named Gary… Darn, I can’t think of the last name. Anyway, he’s connected to this Dancy’s daughter, but I don’t think he told me how. Not that it matters.”
Jack stiffened. “I know who you mean. What about him?”
Her voice seemed to be fading, and then it grew loud again. “Dancy said he’d been getting phone calls from this Gary guy, and then today someone entirely different contacted him and claimed to be the same person. Your friend seemed concerned about it.”
Jack’s hand tightened on the receiver. “Go on.”
“There’s not much more to tell you. Dancy left a message at the hotel you mentioned, but you weren’t registered and his daughter hadn’t checked in yet. He didn’t have any way of getting in touch with you, and he seemed pretty upset about all this. He told the first guy everything he knew about the two of you in Mexico City. Now he’s worried, and rightly so, it seems.”
Jack’s mind raced. It could only be one person.
Jason Applebee.
“I’ve got to go,” he said in a rush.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“I’ll visit soon. I promise.” He replaced the receiver, then stood there thinking about what he’d just learned.
This adventure wasn’t over yet.
Gary knew the minute he drove onto the freeway that he was going to Marjorie’s house, even though his ostensible destination was the mall. He had the perfect excuse to stop by—a signed Ken Griffey, Jr., rookie card that Brice had been dying to see.
He intended to say something along the lines of dropping over because he was in the neighborhood. A stretch and certainly not very original, but he didn’t care. He had to know.
Since their kiss, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. She dominated his every waking thought, and while they’d agreed to put the whole thing behind them, it hadn’t happened. As a result, their working relationship was strained. Their coworkers would soon guess, and Gary felt it was time to clear the air.
Saturday morning had found him restless and at odds. His original intention had been to do a little shopping…but then, why had he taken the baseball card with him? He didn’t know who he was trying to fool. He enjoyed shopping about as much as he enjoyed paying taxes.
When he headed toward the freeway entrance, he admitted that seeing Marjorie was what he’d planned to do all along. Granted, his method lacked finesse. Stopping by unannounced and uninvited wasn’t the most brilliant idea he’d ever come up with. On the other hand, maybe she approved of spontaneity.
He parked on the street, walked up to the front porch and rang the doorbell.
Marjorie came to the door. He could tell she was surprised to see him. “Gary…hi.”
“Hi.” He resisted the urge to say he’d made a mistake and hightail it back to his car. “Is Brice here?” He sounded like a kid, he thought irritably. “I have that baseball card I told him about and I thought he’d like to see it.”
She opened the screen door to let him in. “The signed Ken Griffey, Jr., card? I heard him talking about it to his friends.”
She’d done it again—put him at ease. It seemed to be a specialty of hers.
“Brice has baseball practice on Saturday mornings.”
Gary supposed he should have thought of that since Brice had mentioned it. But then it wasn’t really Brice he’d come to visit. He knew he was staring at Marjorie and he couldn’t stop. Even in a faded pair of jeans and a sleeveless top she was beautiful. For the first time he noticed she had on a pair of yellow rubber gloves. One hand held a can of cleansing powder, the other a sponge.
“I was just about to take a break and have a cup of coffee,” she said. “Would you care to join me?”
Gary nodded enthusiastically and followed her into the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your cleaning.”
“I should thank you for dragging me away from it,” she told him, peeling off the rubber gloves. “It’s my least favorite thing to do.”
He moved a stack of newspapers from one of the kitchen chairs and sat down. She poured them each a mug, then sat across from him. She frowned, staring into her coffee as if she’d discovered something floating there.
He took a deep breath; it was time to speak honestly. “Showing Brice the baseball card was only an excuse,” he said.
She glanced away from him.
“I know we agreed to forget about the kiss…”
“And I think we should,” she said, still not looking at him.
“I can’t.” He couldn’t be any more honest than that.
“Me, neither.” Her voice was so soft he had to strain to make out the words. “But you’re engaged.”
“I know that.” He didn’t need Marjorie to remind him. But he hadn’t heard a word from Lorraine, and when he’d finally broken down and called her father early this morning, the conversation had left him more confused than ever. Her father seemed to think Gary had phoned the night before. He hadn’t, and said so. Then Thomas Dancy had gotten excited and insisted he had to get off the phone.
“Gary, it isn’t a good idea for you to be here.”
“I know that, too,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have come…and yet I couldn’t stay away.”
“My lasagna’s good, Gary, but not that good.”
He smiled, and the tension between them diminished. He reached across the table and took hold of her hand. “You’re wonderful.”
Pulling free, she walked over to the sink, facing the window.
“Marjorie?”
She whirled around. “You’re engaged—to someone else. I like you, Gary, more than I should, but I—”
“You like me?” His heart reacted with a surge of joy.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know!”
“I didn’t.” He’d hoped, but that wasn’t the same thing.
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
Gary used that moment to his advantage. He got up from the table and went over to her. He was tired of all this talk, all this craziness. The incredible kiss they’d shared earlier had been a fluke, or so he’d convinced himself. Nothing had ever been that good before. Not with Lorraine, not with any woman. He had to kiss Marjorie again, had to see if it was possible to repeat this feeling.
“Gary?” Her eyes widened as he pulled her into his embrace.
“Once more,” was all he said, and then he lowered his mouth to hers. She groaned in welcome and that was all it took. Soon they were kissing with an urgency and need normally reserved for the bedroom.
Leaning against the sink, Marjorie clutched his shirt with both hands, as though she needed help to hold herself upright. By the time they broke apart, she was making soft whimpering sounds and his knees were weak. They stared at each other.
Marjorie’s lips were swollen from the explosion of sensuality between them. Because he felt the need to touch her, Gary traced his finger down the side of her face and along her mouth. He didn’t know whether he was doing it to apologize or to entreat her for another kiss.
She looked at him and smiled. Slowly, sweetly. It was his undoing. This time, however, the kiss was as gentle as the previous one had been uncontrolled. To his shock, it was no less sensual…and perhaps even more so.
“No…” Marjorie broke off the kiss and leaned her forehead against his chest.
He longed to argue with her but didn’t have the breath. If the kissing was this fabulous, he thought, still dazed, what would their lovemaking be like? She must be wondering, too.
Her hand stopped him when he moved to unfasten her blouse. “No.”
He gazed at her, questioning. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” She seemed surer this time as she straightened her blouse. “I think you should go now.”
He blinked, certain he’d misunderstood. But when she hurried to the front door and held it open for him, there wasn’t any doubt.
“Marjorie?”
She looked close to tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m sorry, too, Gary, more than you’ll ever know.”
“We need to talk.” Leaving was the last thing on his mind.
“I can’t… We’re incapable of communicating any longer.”
