Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (64 page)

Linc felt her cringe just saying the other man's name.

“He's convinced I have no judgment whatsoever. And then you and I married so quickly, it sent him over the edge.”

Linc realized this was the crux of the problem. He hoped he'd reassured Kate and that she'd share what he'd said with Leonard.

“The fact that you apologized for excluding the family from our wedding went a long way toward winning over my mother.”

Linc had broached the subject between courses. His own family hadn't been invited, either, he'd explained, and he'd said that in retrospect he regretted it. If at some point Lori's family wanted to throw a formal wedding, that was fine with him. From the smile Kate sent him, Linc knew he'd scored a few points.

“Remember what I said about make-up sex? Well, I heard there's an even better kind.”

“Oh?” Lori straightened. “Is there really?”

“Yup, it's the I-told-you-so-and-I-was-right kind of lovemaking.”

Lori's smile filled her entire face. “Are you making that up?”

Linc grinned from ear to ear himself. “Tell you what, my wonderful wife, I'll let you be the judge.”

Twenty-Two

I
n the past six months, Shirley Bliss had had a few so-called dates. Spending time with a man other than her husband had felt wrong in the beginning, but she'd gradually begun to accept that Jim was gone and she needed to—as Miranda put it—“forge a new path in life.”

Not that Miranda was a great example…

Shirley didn't count Will Jefferson as a real date. The only reason she'd accepted his invitations was out of gratitude, and in truth, she rather hoped Miranda would start seeing Will. In her opinion, her very forthright friend was perfect for the man who seemed to consider himself a gift for women to appreciate and admire.

This date with Larry Knight was in an entirely different category. For one thing, it
was
a real date. She felt as if she was in high school all over again, waiting to be picked up for the senior prom. That afternoon, before Larry arrived, she must have checked her reflection in the mirror a dozen times, as giddy as a schoolgirl. Thankfully Tanni had gone out with friends for the day.

She'd had several conversations with Larry in the past three weeks. She'd offered to drive into the city today but Larry had arranged for the car to show up at her place
around two that afternoon. He'd told her he probably wouldn't see her until she got to Seattle. They'd attend his friend's show—Manny Willingham, an artist whose name recognition had increased substantially in the past year—have dinner and then the car would take her back to Cedar Cove.

While she was fussing with her hair one last time, the doorbell rang. The car was ten minutes early. Flustered, Shirley grabbed her purse and hurried to the front door. She opened it and, to her astonishment, Larry stood there on her porch. Just seeing him like this, so handsome and dynamic, just seeing his smile, left her breathless.

When she didn't immediately greet him, Larry said, “You weren't expecting me?”

“No,” she blurted out. “I wasn't expecting you to arrive with the car.”

“It worked out so I could. Are you ready, or do you need a few more minutes?”

“I'm ready.” Or she would be, once her heart settled down and she could breathe normally again.

He guided her to the car. The driver held open the rear passenger door for her while Larry walked around to the opposite side.

Because of her initial reaction, Shirley was convinced she wouldn't be able to utter an intelligent word during the entire eighty-minute drive into Seattle. But they talked constantly—about everything, from personal histories to what they were reading to preferences in art. When the driver pulled up in front of an elegant Bellevue gallery, Shirley couldn't believe so much time had passed.

She'd learned a great deal about Larry, and had confided much about herself. Like her, he'd lost his spouse, which she already knew. His two children were both married. He asked about Jim and her children, whom she dis
cussed at length. Shirley thanked him again for helping Shaw and brought up her concerns about Tanni.

Manny Willingham was a sculptor. Larry introduced Shirley, and Manny took her hand in both of his, looked her directly in the eyes and said, “Go easy on my friend. This has been a long time coming.”

Larry growled something under his breath, but Shirley didn't hear what he'd said, only that he was displeased with Manny's remark. Soon after, Manny was inundated by others with questions about his work and they didn't speak to him again.

They viewed Manny's work and Shirley could see why he commanded the prices he did. Several items already had red dots beside them, indicating a sale. Several others were for display only. One piece in particular struck Shirley, and she studied it for at least ten minutes. It was a bronze, a bouquet of roses just at their peak.

“This is one of my favorite pieces, as well,” Larry said, standing behind her.

“It's not for sale,” she noted. She would gladly have purchased it if the price had been one she could afford—which she doubted. But the decision had been taken away from her.

“Actually, I own that piece,” Larry said.

Astonished, she turned to face him. “You do?”

“Manny made that for me shortly after Rosie died.”

“Your wife's name was Rose?”

“Rosemarie. I called her Rosie.”

Until that moment, Shirley hadn't realized that Larry had never mentioned his wife's name.

They left for an early dinner at about five. Unlike Will, who'd taken her to one of the most expensive steak houses in town, Larry chose a quaint family-run seafood place along the Tacoma waterfront.

“I hope seafood's okay with you,” he said when he told her about it. “I'm not much of a meat eater.”

So this was something else they had in common. “I love seafood. This is perfect.” And it was.

She wanted to remember every minute of their time together, everything they talked about. They had so many of the same likes and dislikes, from small things like favorite songs and movies to big ones like philosophies and beliefs. After a while, all the similarities between them seemed almost eerie—and yet wonderful.

As the limo driver took them back to Cedar Cove, Larry reached for her hand. Shirley gave it to him, acutely conscious of his nearness—his touch. It seemed as though her senses, long dormant, had suddenly sprung back to life.

She and Larry spent the rest of the drive just like that—holding hands, exchanging quiet comments, completely focused on each other.

When the car pulled up in front of her house, Shirley was sorry the day had ended. Tanni wasn't home yet and Shirley couldn't decide whether she should worry or appreciate the privacy.

“Would you like to see the dungeon?” she asked him. The invitation was a way to keep Larry with her for a little while. Her art studio was nothing special, certainly not compared to what his must look like.

“Very much.” Larry asked the driver to wait and followed Shirley inside.

She led him down the stairs and once again felt her heart beating out of control. He was going to kiss her and she wanted that, more than anything she could remember wanting in a very long time.

At the bottom of the stairs, Larry rested his hand on her shoulder. Without thinking, Shirley turned into his embrace and slipped her arms around his neck. As she
knew he would, as she'd hoped and prayed, Larry kissed her. This was the first time another man had touched her like this since she'd lost her husband. She'd avoided anything physical with the few men she'd dated, fearing the rush of guilt she knew she'd experience. She felt none of that when Larry kissed her. No guilt, no dread. Just peace. And happiness.

After several kisses, she buried her face against his throat.

“After we met, that night you came to my show, I had to see you again,” he confessed in a husky whisper. “Manny's exhibit in Seattle was a convenient excuse.”

“Can you make up more excuses?”

Larry's collarbone vibrated slightly against her cheek as he chuckled. “I think I'll have to.”

“You felt it, too?” she asked, already knowing his answer. The attraction was there from the moment Will Jefferson had introduced them.

“Oh, yeah…”

Shirley heard the front door open and close. Tanni was home.

Larry dropped his arms and stepped away.

“Mom?”

It was unusual for Tanni to seek her out; generally her daughter retreated immediately to her bedroom.

“Down here,” she called. “That's my daughter,” she explained unnecessarily.

They started up the stairs, and when Tanni saw Larry with her mother, she raised questioning eyes to Shirley.

“Tanni, this is my friend Larry Knight.”

Her daughter's face instantly warmed as she recognized the name. Tanni pumped his hand as if she expected it to spout water. “It is a real pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said in an oddly formal fashion,
hardly sounding like herself. “I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for Shaw, and for me, too.”

“Happy to,” Larry said. When Tanni released his hand, he turned to Shirley. “I'd better get back to Seattle. I'm flying out early.”

Shirley hated to see him go. She walked him to the door in silence.

“I'll call you,” he promised.

“Please.” She vowed she'd sit by the phone until she heard from him. Until they talked again she couldn't allow herself to believe any of this was real. She watched him return to the car, watched it leave, before she found the strength to face her daughter.

“He's nice, isn't he?” Tanni said reverently.

“He's
wonderful.
” The word was inadequate to describe him and the way he made her feel.

Tanni gave her a speculative look and Shirley thought maybe she'd said too much.

“Are you falling for him, Mom?”

Shirley couldn't lie. “I think I might be. Truthfully, it's all a little soon…and a little scary.”

“It is. I know how I felt when I fell in love with Shaw. My stomach felt weird all the time and I didn't want to eat and all I could think about was him.” As she spoke, Tanni's eyes filled with tears.

Instinctively Shirley opened her arms. Tanni walked into them and laid her head against her mother's shoulder.

“What's wrong, baby?” Shirley asked softly as she stroked her daughter's hair.

Tanni broke away. “I can't stand it when I cry,” she muttered angrily. She scrubbed roughly at her face as though to punish herself for being so weak.

“It's Shaw, isn't it?”

Tanni nodded.

They went into the kitchen and sat on adjoining stools. Shirley waited for Tanni to get control of her emotions. After all these months of dealing with her daughter's contentious attitude, she was grateful that Tanni had confided in her.

“I hate myself,” Tanni blurted out.

Shirley wanted to argue and demand Tanni never say anything like that again. Instead, she held back and composed herself before responding.

“Why?” she asked simply.

“I hate how I act when I don't hear from Shaw. I text him and if he doesn't immediately text me back, then I accuse him of seeing other girls and we argue. I knew everything would change when he went to San Francisco. He said it wouldn't, but it has.”

“
Shaw
is changing.”

Tanni bowed her head. “He makes me crazy. I hate the things I say and do. I want to believe he still loves me, but deep down I don't think he does.”

“Has he met someone else?”

Again, she nodded, her head down, her chin almost against her neck.

Wanting to comfort her, Shirley leaned over and placed one arm around her daughter's shoulders. “It's hard to let go of the people we love. Even when we have to.”

“I don't want to lose him!”

“Of course you don't.”

“I see girls behave like this at school and I look at them with disgust.”

“See them do what, exactly?” Shirley asked. “You mean the texting?”

“That's part of it. They hang on to their old boyfriends. They're so clingy and weak, and now I feel like one of them and I hate it. I hate myself,” she said, choking back a sob.

“Oh, Tanni.”

“I know I shouldn't text Shaw, but I can't make myself stop.” She looked at her mother tearfully. “Take my cell phone away.”

“Do you mean that?”

“No,” she cried, and followed that with a tremulous smile.

They hugged, and then Tanni surprised her. “Thanks, Mom,” she whispered as she slid off the stool.

By Monday evening Shirley understood her daughter's angst much more clearly. She hadn't heard from Larry since he'd dropped her off. All of Sunday night she'd waited for the phone to ring. Nothing. She considered calling him, but decided against it.

Early Tuesday afternoon, Tanni answered the door to a lovely floral arrangement that was being delivered.

She carried it into the kitchen, where Shirley was preparing a curried chicken salad.

“They're for you,” her daughter announced.

Shirley wiped her hands down the front of her jeans and reached for the card. Tanni watched as Shirley tore open the envelope and silently read the message. “Thank you for a lovely day. Larry.”

“They're from Larry, aren't they?” her daughter asked.

Shirley nodded and felt an overwhelming wave of sadness.

Tanni frowned. “You don't seem happy that he sent you flowers.”

Shirley gave what she hoped was an indifferent shrug as she dropped the card on the kitchen counter. “He doesn't want to see me again. Flowers are a man's way of saying goodbye.” All the ecstatic feelings she'd experienced after their time together had turned into mere fantasy. Because she'd been so attracted to Larry, she'd
made the wrong assumptions about his feelings for her. She was just another in a long list of women who'd do anything to date him.