Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey (11 page)

The new clothes took ten years off Pat’s
appearance. Without the oxford shirts, sensible bras and navy blue
skirts, Pat became alluring. A new hairstyle completed the
transformation. Eliza and Callie guaranteed Sam would notice.

When she opened the door wearing her low
cut, layered tank tops in shades of green showcasing plenty of
cleavage and her tight-fitting, hip-hugging jeans emphasizing her
slim hips and legs, Sam was momentarily speechless.

“Patsy, you look beautiful and so…sexy,” he
said, dropping his voice an octave on the last word.

Pat blushed and smiled. The new clothes made
her feel sexier too. The lacy underwear was like having a sexy
secret. When she reached for something, a little bit of the lace
from her bra peeked out.

“Callie and Eliza took me in hand and
brought my wardrobe up to date.”

“You’re absolutely irresistible,” Sam said,
stepping inside and immediately taking her into his arms for a long
kiss. Pat enjoyed his attention, relaxing in his arms and opening
her lips to his kiss. His hands wandered down to her bottom and
gave it a squeeze. She was a little shocked, but she laughed.

“I couldn’t resist, it’s so cute,” Sam said,
releasing her.

“Maybe we should get to the movie.”

“Good idea, before I lose my head
completely.”

Pat shot him a flirtatious smile and brought
in a bowl of popcorn. She popped the movie in and handed the remote
control to Sam.

After she doused the lights, Sam took her
hand and turned on the movie. She offered him the ottoman for his
feet while she tucked hers under her bottom and cuddled up to him,
putting her head on his shoulder. Sam put his arm around her and
pulled her in close.

Dinner was spent talking mostly about the
movie. Pat set up a table on the deck with candles where she served
her best meatloaf recipe. Sam complimented her on the meal and
couldn’t take his eyes off her, especially the neckline of her top.
She noticed him staring and chuckled to herself about how much men
stay the same, no matter how old they are. During dessert Pat
probed for more information about him.

“What did you teach in South Africa?” she
asked him.

“Ornithology.” He sipped coffee from a beige
and brown mug.

“Do you have a doctorate?”

“In biology. I’ve been lucky enough to
collaborate on some books about the birds of Africa. I was also
fortunate to get some freelance assignments over the summers and
holidays traveling to different zoos and game preserves to study
and write about birds. I find birds fascinating.”

“You’re a doctor too, medical or PhD?”

“PhD but I don’t use it much, especially now
I’m not teaching. It wasn’t as hard to get as your doctorate.”

“I don’t know much about birds, but I think
they are beautiful.”

“Maybe you’d like to come birding with me
one morning.”

“I’d love to.”

“Don’t be too hasty, we’d leave the house at
five thirty in the morning.”

“That early?”

“Of course, it’s less of a problem if you
spent the night with me,” Sam said, his eyes twinkling, his
eyebrows raised.

“We’ll see,” she replied, giving him a shy
smile.

“At least you haven’t ruled it out,” Sam
said. He spooned some of the apple concoction Pat baked into his
mouth, rolling it around on his tongue, savoring the flavor.

Pat laughed. Cuddling with him was fun and
sexy; she began to think of making love with him as more of a
when
than an
if
.

Sam helped to clear the table and started
the dishes.

“In our house we have a rule, if you cook,
you don’t do the dishes,” he said.

Pat felt funny having Sam wash dishes in her
house, but he insisted. So she cleared the table, put a bowl of
mints out and cued up the next movie. Once they were settled on the
couch, Sam pulled her close to him, his arm around her. She put her
arm around his middle and cuddled into him. He kissed the top of
her head and they watched Cary Grant win Katharine Hepburn
again.

When the movie was over, Sam leaned over and
kissed Pat, teasing her tongue with his. She sighed and melted in
his arms. He moved his lips to her cheek and down her neck and
chest to her breast, causing a tingle to go up her spine. He kissed
the top of one breast peeking out of the tank top and moved his
hand up underneath to cradle it. Pat sighed. His touch was light
and gentle. Then he sat up.

“I’m sorry, but you are too irresistible
tonight, especially wearing that shirt…”

“Tank top.”

“Whatever you call it. It’s calling to me. I
should go home.” Sam stood up, his hands returning to his
sides.

Pat couldn’t hide her disappointment. She
didn’t know if she was ready to make love with Sam, but she didn’t
want him to go home either.

“I don’t want to begin something you may
decide later you don’t want to do. I’m getting tangled up here,”
Sam said, embarrassed.

“I understand. You’re perfectly clear and
you’re right. I have to make up my mind and sooner rather than
later,” she said, rising to stand next to him.

“I’m glad you understand. I like you, Patsy,
I enjoy your company…we have so much in common. But to be
completely frank, I’m not interested in being only friends with
you,” he said.

“I appreciate your honesty, Sam, and its
fine…I don’t want to be only friends, either,” she admitted, “I’m
almost ready for a more romantic relationship.”

Sam smiled at her with affection and desire
in his eyes and took her hand.

“I’m glad.”

He leaned over and kissed her warmly.

“It’s time to go,” he said, moving toward
the front door.

Before long, he was home, undressing for bed
in his room and planning where to take her and what to do on a
fourth date when the phone rang.

“Sam, it’s me, Patsy.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, I know it’s late,
but I thought maybe you’d like to come to a crafts fair with me
next Saturday and then come back here and we could make dinner
together,” she said.

“Sounds great. What time?”

“The fair starts at noon, can you pick me up
about one o’clock?”

“See you then.”

“Goodnight.”

“Sleep tight, pretty lady,” Sam said and
hung up the phone.
Maybe next weekend, I’ll get lucky. Cripes, I
sound like Peter!

Chapter Seven

Lara was uncomfortable taking so much from
Sam and not giving anything back. She felt useless and depressed.
Sam invited her for breakfast and taught her how to make toast,
coffee and frozen waffles in his kitchen. Lara decided she could
pay Sam back by making breakfast for him. Besides, it’d be good
training for her and make her more independent.

Sam neglected to tell Peter about this
arrangement. But one morning, Peter arose early and wandered into
the kitchen looking for food, surprised to see Lara washing dishes.
The running water prevented her from hearing him. She didn’t expect
him either so when she turned around she ran smack into him. Peter
was only wearing boxers. Lara gasped as her hands came up against
his bare chest.

“It’s me,” Peter said quickly.

“Oh!” She froze.

Peter put his arms around her and held her
loosely, afraid to frighten her. She moved her hands up through his
chest hair, feeling his muscles for a moment, drinking in his male
scent sweetened with the aroma of sleep before she regained her
senses and moved away. Flustered, she turned toward the counter,
her hands searching for more dirty dishes.

“Why are you up so early?”

“The smell of toast seduced me.” He watched
her for a response.

“Seduced your stomach, maybe,” she said,
smiling.

“Right, right.”

“I’m making breakfast this morning. I can do
toast, cereal, coffee and frozen waffles. What’s your
pleasure?”

“Do you want an honest answer?” he asked,
bending over to whisper in her ear.

She felt heat rise in her cheeks at his
suggestion and moved away from him.

“Can I have coffee and toast?”

“Toast and coffee, coming up.”

He sat down at the table while Lara
concentrated on the task at hand. She carefully picked up the pot
of coffee and stuck her finger just inside the rim at the top of
the cup. When the coffee reached the tip of her finger, she stopped
pouring.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to have coffee I’ve
touched. It’s the only way I can pour a cup without overflowing
it.”

“The touch of your hand is most
welcome.”

“Peter!”

“Oh, sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean it the way it
came out.”

“I’ll bet. Want butter, jam or both on your
toast?”

“The works, if it’s not too much
trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” Lara busied herself
moving back and forth between the jar of jam and the butter
dish.

She put the food and drinks on the
table.

“This looks delicious,” he said, taking a
sip of his coffee.

Lara threw the dish towel over her shoulder,
leaned back against the kitchen counter and smiled.

“I’m going to be making breakfast for Sam
every morning. I hope soon to do eggs…a real challenge.”

“You can handle it. You’ll be here every
morning?”

She nodded.

“Gives me a reason to get up early,” he
said.

The sudden clatter of dish against dish
alerted Lara to Peter’s attempt to clear the table.

“I’ll take those,” Lara said, colliding with
him again as she went for the table and he for the sink.

This time he grabbed her to keep her from
falling and pulled her close to him. Her hands came up against him
again. This time she rested her cheek on his chest, only for a
moment, while his fingers played with the ends of her hair.

“Lara…” he murmured, closing his eyes and
kissing the top of her head.

She pushed off from him and stood back,
gripping the counter to steady herself.

“Don’t you like touching me?” he asked.

“I like it…too much,” she replied, “Give me
your dishes.”

“We have a rule, he who cooks doesn’t do
dishes. I’ll do them.”

“But I can do them,” she said, her voice a
little shaky.

“I’m sure but a rule is a rule.”

“I’ve got to go,” she said, lingering by the
doorway, her hands smoothing her hair.

“Library day, today?”

She nodded.

“Do you want a lift?” He turned on the water
in the sink.

“Please…are you going to your office?”

“I have some slides to view. I’ll be about
two hours. Should I pick you up then?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Can I take you out to lunch?” Peter put the
last of the washed dishes in the drainer to dry and turned toward
Lara.

“That isn’t necessary.” She stepped back two
steps.

“I’d like to. We could go to the new
lakeside restaurant.”

“A date?”

“Maybe,” he said, rinsing off another small
plate.

“Friends can go to lunch…” She cast her gaze
to the floor while her fingers plucked at the trim on her
T-shirt.

“Of course.”

Lara smiled and made her way out of the
kitchen and across the lawn to her uncle’s house while Peter turned
on the shower in the bathroom.

* * * *

Peter tried not to be depressed about Lara’s
rejection, hoping time would change her mind. He understood why she
was afraid, but he became more and more convinced she was the one
for him. He needed advice.

“Want a beer, Dad?”

“Sure.” Sam stood at the kitchen counter,
chopping garlic.

Peter opened two beers, handed one to Sam
and sat down at the kitchen table while Sam turned on the
stove.

“Something on your mind, son?”

“Lara.”

“I’m not surprised.” Sam threw the garlic in
the pan then opened a package of chopped meat.

“I want to be her friend, but I want more
too.”

“Be patient. She likes you…a lot. Give her
some breathing room.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit.” Peter
snapped the ends off of green beans.

“If you love her, you’ll wait until the time
is right.”

“Do you think I have a chance?”

“Of course, or I’d tell you to give it up. I
see the way she is around you.”

“Yeah?”

“Seems to be a trust thing. How trustworthy
are you? She isn’t going to be another fling for you, is she?”

“She’s different.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Spend as
much time as you can with her, but don’t rush her into bed.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Sam laughed.

* * * *

The next morning, Lara was there to fix
breakfast as usual.

“Visitors last night, Peter?” she asked, as
he sat down at the table.