Heat Wave (9 page)

‘They did just what they promised.”

His head snapped around and he glared at her with angry blue eyes. She laughed and explained. “This is a different bunch. If you pay them, they’ll go and call someone else to come. They’ve hit a jackpot.”

“Well, I’ll be damned! That’s why you groaned when I told you I’d paid them. I might as well have taken you to the school cafeteria to eat!”

“This is a smidgen nicer.” She turned to catch Jerry Klaus and George Hamilton grinning at her. Dusk had set in, but outside lights illuminated the white blossoms and revealed the boys clearly.

“Don’t wave,” Cole said, obviously still annoyed. “You’ll encourage them.”

She laughed again. “It doesn’t matter. They’re here to collect.”

“Well, they’re in for a disappointment. Am I going to have to go through this every time I take you out?”

“Oh, no. Only until the novelty wears off. Of course, with school over this week and time on their hands …” She spoke lightly, but the words ‘every time I take you out’ lit a glow inside her that she recognized as extremely volatile.

He picked up his glass of champagne. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re laughing at me? That you could stop them, but you’re enjoying yourself?”

She struggled to keep her features solemn, lost the battle, and smiled. “I’m not laughing at you and I really can’t do anything about them. But you did pique their curiosity.”

“Yeah.”

“It might help a little if we ignored them, as if we’d forgotten about them.”

“That’ll be a pleasure.”

“You know I don’t prefer this to the alternative,” she added softly. “To eating with your full attention.”

He set down his glass, his eyes deepening with intensity. The moment became taut while charges bounced between them.

“This is pure agony.” He placed his hand on the table. “With our audience out there, is it permissible to hold your hand?”

She gave it a second’s thought, then shook her head. “No. I don’t want to hear about it tomorrow. I’ll get a blow-by-blow description anyway.”

“This is worse than having dinner with a girl’s parents.” He moved his hand away and picked up his fork. “Who’re the two guys who paint with you?”

“Ted and Grant? I teach with them.” She thought about Grant, a handsome man with thick blond hair, a cleft in his chin, velvet brown eyes, and broad shoulders. They had dated briefly, but there wasn’t any spark between them. His kisses were nice and forgettable. And it must have been mutual. They remained friends, but the dates ended.

“Grant’s the blond?”

She nodded. “He’s the wrestling coach and teaches history in the room next to mine. Ted Workman and I met at Wichita University when we took a course together.”

“That guy, the coach. Do you date him?”

“Sometimes.” She felt a little flare of satisfaction.

“Lately?”

She stared directly into his blue eyes. “No.”

Crinkles fanned from the corners of those eyes. “I don’t think you date the other one either.”

“No, I don’t. Ted’s nice. We’re friends. Because of his red hair a lot of people think he’s my brother.”

“You hardly look alike. The only resemblance is that he has red hair as long as yours. He looks as if he hasn’t had a square meal in his life. That six-four frame is all bones, whereas your frame is covered with the most luscious curves. …”

“Oh, really?”

His gaze whisked away the black crepe, and heated her blood. In a low voice he said, “Come on. I’m ready for a little privacy.”

He signaled for the waiter and paid the bill, then pushed back his chair and walked around the table to her. His fingers drifted across her bare neck as he reached down to pull back her chair. When she rose, she looked up into smoldering blue eyes that conveyed an unmistakable message. Unable to move, to break the magic spell between them, she drew a sharp breath.

His voice dropped to a husky note. “Right now, you feel the same thing I do.”

She did. She ran her finger along his jacket lapel, unable to keep her hands off him.

Cole caught his breath. “Let’s go before I do something to make you the school’s choice topic.”

As they walked through the dining room, Marilee was aware of each brush of her bare arm against his soft jacket sleeve, of his height and broad shoulders.

When they stepped outside a cool breeze enveloped them. Night had fallen but the floodlights in the tall elms made the front drive as light as day. The Thunderbird was brought to the door and they climbed inside. As Cole whipped out of the drive, he looked into the rearview mirror and swore.

She twisted to see an old Ford full of kids.

“Marilee, I want to lose them.”

“Oh, please don’t. They’ll give chase and if they had a wreck, if anything happened, I’d never get over it. Most of them haven’t been driving very long.”

His jaw had a stubborn thrust. The feathered locks of wavy hair had blown into unruly curls, giving him a reckless appearance. “I haven’t spent an evening like this since I was fifteen years old!”

“Puts a little crimp in your style, eh?”

His arm swept out, pulling her to him in a tight hug. “If you don’t stop laughing at me, I’ll wreak my revenge!”

“Mmmm. Sounds interesting!”

He chuckled and pressed her against his hard length so that the warmth of his body penetrated her thin layers of clothing. Excitement streaked through her, caused by his vitality, his presence. After a minute she asked, “Are they still behind us?”

“Can you forget about them?”

“Hardly.”

“Yeah, they’re there.”

“Cole, may I make a suggestion?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t race away, but lose them before you go home. They don’t know who you are, but If they find out where you live …”

He groaned. “I think it would be easier to have terrorists or the Feds after me. At least I could give them a chase.”

She laughed, relaxing, and lay her head against his shoulder. In spite of the harassment, the evening had been fun. Just being with Cole was exciting, regardless of what they did. She moved a fraction to gaze up at his jaw, running her finger over his rough skin, across the tiny bristles.

Without taking his eyes from the road, he turned to catch her finger lightly with his teeth. His tongue touched her fingertip, sending a shower of sparks through her. She pulled her hand away. “Your attention might drift.”

“It did. I’d like to pull over and take you in my arms. But I know I can’t with the goon squad on our heels.” He took a deep breath. “Luv, I have to leave town tomorrow. I’ll be back next week. I had other plans for tonight.”

His last words did something to her heart. “Sorry, I think.” She wondered where he was going, what he would do. The thought of Cole’s absence left a cold, leaden feeling. From that first kiss he had been special. With each passing second in his company, he was becoming more important to her. He filled many of her needs. She wondered about his needs. His broad shoulders looked as if he could carry responsibility without help. Yet there was that defensive note in his voice when he talked about his parents. There were all the fences he had erected around his home. She wondered if he had barriers around his heart. Was his gruff announcement that he wouldn’t marry, a fence he

put up to keep her at a distance? Was his implacability limited to marriage or did it include any degree of commitment?

While she mulled over these thoughts, Cole slowed the car and stopped in front of her house. When the motor died, they could hear the high chirping of crickets through the open window. Cole peeled off his coat and draped it over the seat between them. “It’s been fun,” Marilee said. ‘Thank you.”

Slipping his arm around her waist, he smiled. “There’s no car behind us.”

She held him away. ‘There doesn’t have to be. I imagine my bushes are crawling with bodies, all ears for our every word.”

“Well, damn!” He surveyed the darkened yard, the flowering shrubbery.

“Cole, It was fun, but I can’t kiss you at the door in front of them. Well say good night right here and now.” She sighed with true regret. “I’m sorry, but I have to maintain my authority, my reputation. I can’t be the object of their jokes.”

“Marilee, this is a nightmare.”

She leaned forward to kiss him lightly. Instantly, his arm tightened with the inflexibility of an iron band, crushing her against his hard chest. Through the open window they heard a giggle.

Marilee moved away, whispering, “Sorry. I better go.”

Cole escorted her to the door. They stood in the darkness on the porch while he unlocked the door. Before he opened it, she grasped his strong fingers and squeezed them.

“Good night and thanks for a fun evening.”

“Talk about maintaining a reputation. This is a first for me!” he murmured. When she laughed, his teeth nipped lightly at her neck.

“Just you wait!” he whispered, sending a shiver rippling in her.

“Bye.”

A chorus of voices suddenly shattered the quiet. “Kiss her good night!”

Someone whistled. Marilee had an instant of stunned surprise as she peered into the darkness. She saw the pale oval of a face in parted lilac fronds. Bushes waggled and the face disappeared. Aggravated, she said, “See?”

Cole placed his hand beside her head, barring her from the door. His other arm slipped around her waist. In a normal speaking voice that carried across the yard he drawled, “I think that’s the best idea they’ve had all night.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs. She reached behind her back to try to push the door open. “Oh, Cole, no …”

“Kiss her, mister!”

“Cole, don’t you give in to them! I’ll never hear the end—”

He stopped her protest, crushing her in his arms while his lips took hers in no uncertain manner.

His mouth opened hers, possessing her in a kiss that curled her toes, that caused the roar in her ears to blank out the whistles and cheers. How long was he going to kiss her, she wondered. It was her last rational thought. Her mind was lost to sensation; resistance left her body. She melted against his hardness, wrapping her arms around his neck. Dimly she heard cheers, shouts, but the sounds blended, fading into nothing.

On and on went his deliberate exploring, his plundering kiss. The air became rarefied, her breathing difficult.

Finally he relented. Applause and raucous shouts filled the air while she stood dazed in Cole’s arms.

With his arm around her waist, he turned and bowed deeply. “Now, you guys, how about some privacy!” he called.

“Oh, my Lord.” Marilee whispered while there was more applause and a few ribald suggestions. “So help me, Cole! Do you know what you’ve done to my life now?”

Opening the door for her, he grinned. “Wasn’t it worth it?”

In spite of her aggravation and the knowledge that tomorrow she would pay for his kiss, she smiled. She stepped inside, turning to block him. “Now, go while they’re still around to see you leave!”

Chuckling, he said, “Night, hon.”

She locked the door and switched on the lights. Laughter shook her as she thought about Cole and their chaperones. She thought again about how much fun it was to be in his company. Yet if she had any sense, if she wanted to avoid a real heartbreak—because she was sure Cole had all the potential to give her one—she wouldn’t see him again except professionally. “Good thoughts, Marilee,” she whispered to the empty house as she heard the Thunderbird roar away. “That’s the same thing you said last time.”

During the rest of the week, she took the teasing at school good-naturedly. Friday finally came and she turned in her grades and books, cleaned her classroom, and closed it for summer. With Cole out of town and unable to bother her, she got a good deal of work done on her book—except when she was daydreaming about Cole.

On the Tuesday after Memorial Day, she stepped out of Ted’s truck and picked up a ladder to start work on the Chandler farmhouse.

“I’ll tell him we’re here,” Grant offered, pushing scrapers into his pockets.

Ted lifted down another ladder. “I’ll start at the front.” His paint-spattered coveralls hung loosely on his freckled bony frame as he shouldered the ladder and sauntered around the side of the house.

Within minutes Grant reappeared. “Chandler’s not here,” he said to Marilee. “There’s a woman working in the kitchen. I told her we’re the painters.” He picked up the ladder and Marilee followed him to the back of the house. While Grant began working at ground level, Marilee climbed up the ladder and started scraping old paint, loosening it before they applied the primer. It was a miserably hot day, and her thoughts were divided between speculation about the possibility of heat stroke and memories of the last time she was at this house. Those memories unfortunately only made her hotter.

During mid-morning a man dressed in jeans, a plaid shirt, and boots strolled around the corner of the house, pushing his wide-brimmed hat to the back of his head. “Miss O’Neil?” he called up to her.

“Yes?”

“I’m Charley Williams. Mr. Chandler’s out of town today. He asked me to tell you his nephew Henry won’t be here until tomorrow.”

“Fine. Thanks.”

Charley turned away and Marilee continued automatically scraping the house, wondering if Cole had forgotten her. She had been trying not to notice the orange-cushioned chaise on the patio and the inviting blue swimming pool because of memories they stirred of Cole. She missed him. Far more than she wanted to admit.

By the time she reached home at the end of the day, she was hot and exhausted and heading for the shower when the phone rang. Yanking up the receiver, she heard Jack Wilson’s cheery hello.

“Did you get your balloon, Jack?” she asked.

“Sure did. Thanks, Marilee. It couldn’t have worked out better.”

He sounded too happy over a smashed balloon and a suspicion struck her. “Did Cole return your balloon?”

“No. He told me to buy a new one and send him the bill. And not to spare the expense.”

“Jack, he was supposed to return your wrecked balloon.”

“Well, he can keep it or you can. I’m perfectly happy with my new one.”

“Don’t send him the bill.” At that moment she could have cheerfully wrung Cole Chandler’s neck for giving Jack encouragement to purchase a new balloon. She braced herself and asked, “What did it cost?”