Always (9 page)

      Gordon's long legs brushed against hers as he took his seat. He shifted his knee away from hers, but his heat radiated through space and zeroed in on her without benefit of physical contact.

      Why? He wasn't making a pass, touching her, trying to touch her, or showing any indication that he wanted to touch her. Why did she react so to his nearness?

      Memories? Of course, what else could it be? Taylor squared her shoulders, plucked her napkin from the table and placed it in her lap. Resolutely, she looked around the table until her gaze rested on Gordon's mother.

      Taylor Bowen was no coward.

      Tonight was for appearances only. After this, she would avoid social engagements involving the past. She had to. She peeked at Gordon through veiled lashes. He was staring at her again and the pressure in her chest grew.

      Yes, if she avoided these situations, she might actually survive this assignment. It would be easier to avoid personal entanglements at the clinic, and that was only temporary. Soon she would be at the new clinic and wouldn't have to see Gordon, Sue, Ryan, or Mrs. Lane at all, except as possible patients. She'd be all right until then, though the thought of playing doctor with Gordon raised her temperature a few degrees.

      
"Playing" doctor is not allowed, Taylor.

      Beneath the table, Gordon clenched his napkin into a tight wad as he struggled with the onslaught of emotions and memories. How much of this crap could a man take in one day? And his day had started damned early with Taylor's surprise visit this morning.

      "Sue tells me that fool Tom Bradshaw wants Taylor to practice at your clinic," his mother said, forking salad onto her plate.
 

      "That's right." Gordon took a roll from the basket in front of him and passed it.
 

      "How long will this office sharing go on?" The expression in his mother's eyes was accusing.

      
Like I asked for this
? "Until the clinic is completed." He glanced at Taylor, immediately wishing he could shut his mother up. Mom's questions were tormenting them both.

      "The mayor didn't say, exactly," Taylor said, passing the butter dish to Gordon. "I forgot to ask, but I'll do that tomorrow."

      His mother took the butter dish from Gordon and rolled her eyes. "Well, tending people in an animal hospital is mighty ridiculous, if you ask me."

      
Which we didn't
. Gordon took a bite of his roll and it stuck in his craw. He quickly washed it down with iced tea, wondering how he'd managed to end up seated beside Taylor. Suspicion niggled through him and he shot a glance in Sue's direction.
Uh-oh.

      Was she? Could she?
Would
she?

      Sue's cheeks turned crimson beneath his scrutiny. Dear God, the woman really was trying to play matchmaker. He sighed and shook his head, hoping she would catch on, but she jumped to her feet.

      "I'll get the lasagna. Spinach. I hope that's all right with everybody."

      "Sounds lovely." Taylor shifted in her chair and her knee brushed against his. She jerked back as if burned.

      Gordon would deal with Sue later. Realizing that Taylor was as uncomfortable as he was disturbed him. He inched his legs closer to his mother, hoping to spare Taylor further distress.

      Hell, why
should
he spare her? She was the one who up and left ten years ago. She was the one who made the choice to abandon him and everything they'd meant to each other. No, let her squirm. The more, the better, in fact.

      He maneuvered his legs back directly in front of him.

      She slid hers away.

      He stretched his right leg out, his calf finding her shin. There, that was better. He forked salad into his mouth and chewed on a cherry tomato, casting her a surreptitious glance from the corner of his eye. Her face was as red as the tomato.

      
Suffer
. A small voice in the back of his mind told him he was being rude, and even unreasonable, but he told it to shut up and let him have his revenge. After all those years of hoping she would come back to him...

      Yes, revenge was sweet. He rubbed his calf against her shin very slightly, so it could pass as an accident.
Oh, yeah
. Revenge could be very sweet indeed, as long as it didn't backfire.
 

      "Taylor, how are your folks? I've missed your mother, though she sends a Christmas letter every year."

      His mother's voice made Gordon flinch inwardly, as if he'd been Ryan's age again and she'd caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Of course, Taylor Bowen had become his cookie of choice around age sixteen. He focused on her again, noting the glisten of moisture along the side of her neck. He twitched his lips, wanting to taste her.
Damn.

      "They're fine, Mrs. Lane."

      "Call me Priscilla, please. You used to. And how about that handsome brother of yours? Mike, isn't it?"

      "He's practicing medicine in Denver, actually."

      "Denver?" His mother looked appalled–not unusual. "And he hasn't come for a visit? That's only fifty miles from here."

      "He's very busy, but he'll come up to visit me, I'm sure." She smiled. "In fact, he's promised to help me secure a research grant. Uh, if I don't go back east, that is."

      "But what about Digby?"

      Taylor blinked and played with her napkin. "I'm only here for three years. Remember?"

      "Well, perhaps you'll change your mind before then," his mother said. "About a lot of things."

      
What the devil...
? His mother's voice sounded much calmer and friendlier now. She was treating Taylor as if nothing had ever happened. In fact, it seemed as if she suddenly wanted them to–

      
No.

      "I'm sorry I was hard on you earlier, but it's a mother's instinct to protect her young."

      Gordon coughed and grabbed his iced tea again.

      "And though Gordon is pushing thirty–"

      "Twenty-nine," he corrected, then chomped on a piece of ice with all his suppressed fury.

      "Like I said, pushing thirty," his mother continued unruffled, "he'll always be my little boy."

      Ryan let out a hoot and a snort.
 

      "Watch it, squirt," Gordon growled. "Thanks, Mom, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm big enough to take care of myself now."

      "So
you
say."
 

      Gordon placed his face in his hands and groaned. "I don't believe this."

      "You aren't the only one."
 

      Taylor's voice surprised him and he looked between his fingers. Her face was still flushed, her eyes snapped, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

      She was pissed, just like that time her brother had borrowed her bike without asking, then left it at the curb where the trash truck ran over it.

      "Mrs. Lane–Priscilla, I think there's a lot more to what happened ten years ago than you realize." Taylor drew a breath and placed her hands palms down on the table. "I definitely didn't return to harm your...
little boy
."

      Taylor's gaze shifted to him on the last two words. Gordon groaned again. Ryan laughed louder than before.

      Mom stiffened, then gave a grudging nod. "All right, Taylor. Welcome home, then."

      "What's going on?" Sue asked.

      Gordon uncovered his face and watched their hostess place a steaming casserole dish on the table. "You don't want to know."

      Sue glanced from Taylor to Gordon's mother. "Yep, you got that right." She picked up the serving spoon. "Who wants lasagna?"

      Gordon sighed and looked at Taylor again. She chewed her salad furiously, her eyes dancing with victory. He held his breath as she slipped her foot out of her sandal and rubbed it along his leg.

      She was playing dirty, and his body responded with infuriating enthusiasm.

      "Lasagna, Gordon?" Sue asked.

      He gave her a weak smile. "Got any crow?"

*
 
*
 
*

      After consuming two glasses of wine and reliving every school play and significant event from kindergarten through high school with Priscilla–the woman definitely seemed to have recovered from her unreasonable anger–Taylor was ready to call it a night. Besides, tomorrow was her first day as a real, practicing physician.

      Even if it would be in an animal hospital.

      However, she was quite pleased with the way tensions had eased as the evening progressed. No blood drawn by either side, even during the clean-up with three women in the kitchen.

      "I have an early morning, so I think it's time to call it a night," Gordon said, mirroring her thoughts. "Ryan, let's have a look at Patches before I leave."

      Taylor watched Ryan sail by, then a moment later a tail-wagging bundle of energy joined him in the kitchen. The dog seemed fine. In fact, it was adorable. She'd always had a fondness for dogs, especially Gordon's Max. Maybe someday she'd settle down in one place long enough to have one of her own.

      She followed Ryan to the living room, where Priscilla was already pulling on her sweater and retrieving her car keys from her purse. Surviving an evening with Gordon, Sue, and Priscilla was nothing less than a miracle. Taylor gave herself a mental pat on the back.

      And a silent sigh of relief.

      "Hey, you're looking good, Patches," Gordon said, dropping to his knees to peer into the dog's eyes. He scratched Patches behind the ears and the mutt seemed to melt into the floor at Gordon's feet. "Like that, huh, boy?"

      He chuckled, sounding far too much like the boy Taylor had once adored. She loved hearing him laugh. She always had. That ache commenced again in her chest and her belly did a triple spinach lasagna flip. Her gaze rested on Gordon's silver hair, pulled into a ponytail at his nape. His face and neck were bronze from the sun, and the muscles in his forearms rippled beneath his blue and white rugby shirt.

      "No more wheezing since he came home?" Straightening, Gordon looked at Ryan and Sue for his answer.

      "Not a bit." Ryan beamed as he dropped to the floor beside his dog, whose tail swept the wood floor in rhythmic strokes. "He's well now. I think he likes the warmer weather."

      "We all like the warmer weather." Gordon stroked his chin and nodded. "I hope he stays that way, but call me right away if he starts wheezing again."

      "He won't," Ryan said, burying his face in the dog's furry neck. "Will you, Patch?"

      "Will do, Gordon," Sue said, moving toward the door. "Thanks."

      Taylor followed Gordon to the door. "Thank you for dinner, Sue. It was delicious."

      Sue met her gaze and her smile was sad. "I hope you'll come again sometime, Taylor. It's good to have you home."

      Taylor's belly did a number on the salad, and she gave a non-committal nod. "Good-night to you all."

      "Good-night, dear," Priscilla said. "Gordon, you take Taylor straight home, and none of that parking you two used to do along the way. She's a doctor now."

      Gordon's cheeks blazed as he reached for the doorknob, and Taylor swallowed her grin. She should be embarrassed, but watching him blush freed her to enjoy the moment.
 

      She followed him down the sidewalk and slid into the passenger seat of his Jeep, allowing her fingertip to trail along the seat cover. Memories forced their way out of the mental vault where she'd tried to lock them away. She and Gordon had spent so much time in this old Jeep. Her face warmed as she recalled some of their more intimate moments.       Glancing up, she noticed the way the floodlight bathed his silver hair as he walked around the front of the Jeep. A shiver chased itself through her that had nothing to do with air temperature. Gordon was her first love, and–God help her–her only love. What she felt for Jeremy could hardly be called love. Yet.
 

      The wine she'd consumed mingled with desire and warmed her from within. She leaned against the seat with a sigh.

      "Comfy?" he asked, sliding in and firing up the engine. It sputtered a few times, then roared to life. "
Good
car." He patted the steering wheel and Taylor giggled.

      "I think your Jeep is developing Alzheimer's."

      He revved the engine and glowered at her. "Sometimer's."

      She laughed and fastened her seat belt. "Okay, Sometimer's then. It is getting old, huh?"

      Gordon sighed and nodded in the semi-darkness. "I'm afraid so. I sure hate to part with her, though."

      "Her?"

      He looked away and buckled his seat belt, then dropped the Jeep into reverse. "Of course. Ships are always her, aren't they? You don't remember helping me name her?"

      "Oh..." Taylor swallowed hard. "Henrietta."