California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances (53 page)

“You sure have changed. A year ago, you were afraid of anything turning your world upside down. And now?” Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s a new you.”

“Well, the life coach definitely helped. But it wasn’t only her. I guess you could say the universe decided it was time for a shake-up in my life. Maybe that’s what’s happening to you.”

“My life already had its shake-ups.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded sharp. “Sorry, didn’t mean it to come out that way.”

“S’okay. I know you’re feeling the stress of everything. That’s why I think a trip to Napa with a handsome man is a wonderful idea.”

Mandy dropped their food off and conversation stopped for a few minutes. Annie toyed with her salad, coating each green leaf with salad dressing.

“Why don’t you just order pasta and get it over with?” Elizabeth asked her friend.

Annie grinned at her. “I get perverse pleasure out of annoying you.” She ate a piece of blackened chicken, her expression sobering as she chewed. “I bet finding out about Joe’s affair is making you skittish about Marcos,” she said when she’d finished. “I think you need to be open with Marcos about it. After all, he told you about his wife.”

Elizabeth’s fork clattered to the table. “I’m not ready to tell him about it.” The heat of shame suffused her body.

“But you need to, Elizabeth,” Annie said. “You can’t keep hiding from Marcos … or any other man … all your life.”

Elizabeth smoothed her hair behind her ears. “I don’t understand why he did it. Or maybe I do understand. I wasn’t much of a lover. And the betrayal is worse because I’ll never be able to confront him and ask him.”

Annie snorted. “You weren’t to blame. I wish you’d get past the shame your mother loaded you with. You’re a perfect woman. Joe was less than a perfect man.” She considered her wine. “Didn’t you have any idea?”

Elizabeth searched her memory. “We were always busy. But so were my parents. They never had time, either, so I thought it was normal. He said he needed to travel for business and I believed him. Instead he must have been seeing her.”

The rage inside her boiled up again. “I put my life on hold and gave up all my dreams to raise Sarah. The least he could have done was be faithful!” Angry tears filled her eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She would not cry over that man anymore!

“See,” Annie pointed her oily fork at Elizabeth. “I told you. His fault. But it’s over. He’s dead, Elizabeth. You need to move on.” Annie put down her fork and touched Elizabeth’s hand.

“But I don’t know how.”

“Maybe Carol has an answer. When’s your next call with her?”

“Next week.”

“Good.”

• • •

As she waited for her coaching call, Elizabeth wondered if Annie had been right — she was over-reacting to the idea of a relationship with Marcos. After all, all they’d shared was a few kisses. A few steamy kisses that left her wanting more.

She sighed and twitched in her seat, imagining his hands running over her naked body, taking her breasts in his hands, lowering his mouth —

The phone rang.

“How are you doing, dear,” Carol asked.

I’d be doing better if I had gotten to finish my fantasy.
“Fine,” Elizabeth answered.

There was a brief pause. “I see,” Carol said. “Is Alicia still doing well? Have you filled out the new loan papers?”

“Yes and no — still trying to figure out the best amount to put into the business,” Elizabeth said.

“And what about the journaling — any insights?”

Elizabeth flushed. Other than that she was obsessed with Marcos? “I can’t point to anything in general, but I feel more able to believe in myself and what I want.” That should satisfy the coach.

“Ahh. Can you give me an example.”

Elizabeth’s mind worked furiously. What could she say? Then it came to her. Maybe this journaling thing was working.

“I told my ex-boyfriend that we were through.”

“Tell me more.”

Elizabeth told her about turning Bobby’s dinner invitation down.

“Good,” Carol said. “So now what?”

Elizabeth hesitated. Stewing about a man seemed, well, so fifties. Weren’t women past needing a man?

Wasn’t Carol going to say anything else?

Silence.

She was going to have to fess up. “I don’t know what to do about Marcos. He wants to have a fling in Napa.”

“A fling? Did he use that word?”

“Well … no.”

“So why are you using it?”

“Because that’s what I think he wants. He couldn’t seriously be interested in me. I’ve lived in the same town all my life, don’t know anything about life in Europe or any of the things he’s probably interested in.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t see. I want to be loved and cherished. And run a business. Men don’t want that.”

“And you know this because?”

Elizabeth stopped her rant. How did she know? She’d only known two men in her life. One betrayed her and the other tried to control her. Who was Marcos, really?

“Elizabeth, one of the reasons teenage marriages have problems is because the partners never got to figure out who they were without the other person,” Carol said. “They never dated other people.”

“What does one thing have to do with the other?”

“We learn about ourselves through relationships — how we are with other people.”

“I have plenty of relationships.”

“With women, yes. How about men?”

Elizabeth grimaced. There were only two. “So what you’re saying is that I should give Marcos a chance — talk to him.”

“And listen.”

Elizabeth took in a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.”

After she hung up the phone, she stared at the kitchen window, an unknown future staring back at her. Wasn’t anything secure anymore?

Looking back on her life, she realized nothing ever had been. Control was an illusion. All she could do was her best and hope things turned out well.

Marcos stared at the response from Elizabeth. She was non-committal, giving him no real answer to his question about Napa.

Words were so frustrating! He longed to show her how he felt with his touch and voice. Voice …

He clicked a few keys and checked the time in California — morning. He took a chance and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Elizabeth’s voice warmed him.

“Hello, Elizabeth. It is Marcos.”

“Oh! Hello!”

He imagined a smile forming across her face. “I wanted to hear your voice,” he said. “I have missed the music of your laugh greatly.”

She laughed as he’d hoped she would. “You’re shameless,” she said.

“Ah, well, it is true. But I only wish to make you happy. How is your shop going? And your products?”

“It’s been an okay fall. Still not as good as previous years, but we’re surviving. As for the line of lotions, I saw a lawyer and she gave me some advice. I’m going to incorporate and polish my business plan before I go back to the bank.”

“Sounds like you are busy. Will you have time to get away?” He held his breath.

Elizabeth was quiet. “Marcos, I’m not sure I should go with you.”

“I told you. I will be the perfect gentleman.” He paused, unable to lie. “Well, perhaps not perfect, but I will only steal a kiss or two.” Or many.

“That’s not it. I trust you, Marcos. Or I think I do.”

“Trust. That is good. It is a good way to start a relationship,” he said. “So if you trust me, why are you afraid of exploring a relationship with me?”

Silence hummed over the line.

“Remember when you told me about your wife?”

“Yes, of course.” His muscles tightened.

“Well … I found out about a month ago that Joe was having an affair before he died … ”

“Oh,
cara
. That is so hard to learn. Especially when he is gone. There is no one to be angry with.” Or kill. He clenched his fists, longing to use them on a man who would betray his wife, just as Marcos had used them on his best friend all those years ago.

It had been very satisfactory.

“There’s more,” she said. “They had a child. I’ve … I’ve actually hired her to work in my shop.”

“You are a brave woman, Elizabeth.” His heart ached for her.

“Yes, maybe I am.”

Silence echoed across thousands of miles.

“Are you willing to be brave again, Elizabeth?” he asked. “I am only asking for a weekend, time to get to know you better.”

More silence.

“I think so,” she finally said. “Yes.” Her voice was more decisive. “I will go with you.”

He smiled. “
Bella!
Now I will tell you about the wonderful place I have found for us to stay.”

“Very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” The laughter was back in her voice.

He shrugged. “I believe in going after what you want.”

• • •

Three weeks later, Marcos pulled his leather traveling bag off the carousel in San Francisco’s International Terminal. Customs passed quickly and soon he was on his way down the valley and over the mountains to Costanoa. After he checked into his hotel, he called Elizabeth.

“I made it,” he said.

“Great! Want to come by for a glass of wine?” she asked.

He glanced at his watch. Could he contain himself? “For a few minutes. I have to meet the real estate agent about the vineyard in the morning, but I want to get an early start on our weekend away.”

“Okay. See you soon! Bye.”

His sense of anticipation grew as he took the familiar path to Elizabeth’s house. A few minutes later, he pulled into Elizabeth’s drive. She must have heard the car pull up, because she opened the door and came down the sidewalk to great him. Hopping out of the car, he met her halfway.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then they each took a step toward each other and he lowered his lips to hers.

Her lips were like velvet beneath his, her mouth a spicy mixture of red wine and oregano. He sipped her tenderness and caught a hint of vulnerability. Reluctantly, he released her. “I’ve missed you,” he said.

“Me, too.”

“Shall we go inside and catch up, then?”

She nodded and he took her hand to lead her up to her door, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks.

“How did Jacques take being fired?” she asked after she served them wine and biscotti in the living room.

“Not well. Threatened revenge. I think it is all bluster. At least I hope it is.” He shrugged. “But I have no control over that, so I have put it from my mind.” He took a sip and cocked his head at her. “You seem different somehow.”

She gave a small smile. “I’ve been working with a coach.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Like a football coach?”

She laughed, a bright sound that made him glad to be alive to hear it. “A life coach. My friend Annie used her. She’s helpful. We talk and she helps me uncover my thoughts and look at them in new ways.”

“Is that why you have agreed to come with me?”

She looked at him steadily. “I’m trusting you this weekend. It’s taken a lot of work for me to get to a point where I could trust any man. Please don’t betray that trust.”

“I will work hard not to do that.”

She looked hard at him and he felt her withdrawal. Being honest was difficult, but necessary — for both of them. He set down his wine glass.

“Elizabeth, there are no guarantees in life. I do not know you as well as I hope to do someday. But I may hurt you by mistake, because I don’t know what I did.” He brushed his free hand through his hair. “You must do your part. If I hurt you, you must let me know. I will do my best to fix the problem. That is all I can promise you — my best.”

She looked at him steadily. After a few moments she said, “Okay.” Her eyes looked at him expectantly.

He took the hint and leaned down to kiss her, taking his time, but slowly increasing the pressure of the kiss. His tongue teased her lips until they opened and he swept into her mouth with his tongue. He pressed firmly on her lips, possessing her and demanding a response.

She moaned and leaned into him.

He opened his eyes and saw her cheek’s smooth skin, dark eyelashes caressing the soft angle of her face. His eyelids drifted close again and he concentrated on the textures and aromas of the woman he knew he was coming to love.

• • •

Elizabeth tried to calm the rushing of anticipation as they drove north the following afternoon. He’d kept his word and left after a glass of wine … and another lingering kiss. She didn’t know whether to be happy that he’d limited their contact to a kiss, or depressed that it had been all he wanted.

Either way she was frustrated.

She concentrated on his hands on the steering wheel. That didn’t help either. All she could think of was those hands on her body.

He must have sensed the heat of her gaze, because he stole a glance and asked, “What are you thinking?”

“Um … not much.”

He smiled.

She returned her gaze to the window. Trying to find conversation, she asked, “How much longer do you think it will take?”

He laughed. “You sound like a small child. ‘When will we get there?’”

Grateful for the change in subject, she smiled and said, “Well?”

“Another hour, we’re almost to the bridge.”

A few minutes later, they were on the span of the Benicia-Martinez Bridge. The reserve fleet in the Suisun Bay moored in the bay always struck Elizabeth as something that was right with America — a strength to be used when it was needed, built with American know-how and labor.

She glanced at the Italian next to her and once again tried to figure out what she was doing with him. They’d grown up in different cultures and they wanted different lives.

“You are looking too intense,
cara
,” he said. “This weekend is for us to relax. and get to know each other. What has you glaring so fiercely at the poor car in front of us?”

She laughed. “I think I am doing what my mother called ‘borrowing trouble before its time.’”

“Ah … you are worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet.”

“Something like that.”

“I have found that worrying about something that has not happened does not bring peace, only agony. My sister tells me it is the nature of women to worry for everyone.” He shrugged. “But there is enough to deal with every day to wonder what problems the future will bring.”