Rocky Mountain Hook Up (To Love Again Book 1) (7 page)

Now he was gone and the opportunity was lost. She could always go to The Shore again, but she doubted she could find anyone that would measure up to Tray. Now that she’d met him, her standards had been kicked up a notch.

Tray was not only hunky, he was sweet, kind, thoughtful. Isabel ticked off his positive traits in her head, realizing she sounded like a teenager with a crush. That was dangerous, because the truth was, she was wildly attracted to him. There seemed to be something between them beyond the electrical current that she chalked up to animal lust.

Could there be something beyond the shared interest in psychology? She knew that was wishful thinking. She often encouraged her clients to have more sex, better sex, because it was a given that strong emotional feelings of connection would naturally develop. But they were already married and committed to each other. She was acting like a teenager, falling into that old trap of dressing up her lust in a romantic fantasy, before there was any real emotional connection. Shame, shame, chided Isabel the doctor, overriding Isabel the woman, and rolling out of bed.

Isabel scooped up her clothes, which seemed to be strewn from one end of the house to the other, and threw them into the laundry basket. Saturday was wash day, but she’d decided that this long weekend she’d focus on getting her practice back on track. It was Thanksgiving and the girls were on a hiking trip. She’d cleared her calendar, even turning down a turkey dinner. She had the rest of her life to clean her house, but this weekend she needed to do some thinking about her practice and how to rev things up again with her clients. She’d worked too hard to let it all go down the drain now.

Waiting for coffee to brew, she poked around the kitchen, straightening tea towels and wiping counters. She picked up the stray newspapers in the living room and threw out yesterday’s cereal. But her heart was not in it as her body continued to hum from the night of lovemaking with Tray. She would never have imagined that someone his age could have that much experience and quiet confidence. Although he claimed to have no confidence, it fairly oozed out of him. And his energy. Energy that she was ready for. She knew that men reached their sexual prime in their late teens and women not until their mid-thirties. She could turn the tables on that biological mix-up. She was in her sexual prime and she deserved a younger man who had the energy and stamina to keep up with her.

Yeah, right. All she needed right now was for Tray to come back so she could proposition him. She needed a few more nights – or days – with him to feel like she was back in the saddle. Then she could take that knowledge back to her office and not feel so cut off from her clients’ concerns. But Tray hadn’t left a number or even a note. It was Chet all over again. Except Chet had left after sixteen years and Tray after one night. Maybe that’s the way it was done in the clubs. Have one hot night together, slam, bam, not even a thank-you-note ma’am.

She could go back to the club looking for him, but she didn’t want to appear desperate. He probably felt he was doing her a favor anyway, taking an older woman to bed. Maybe he’d just taken pity on her. Isabel’s face flushed with shame. She didn’t want to think of herself as that desperate.

The chime of the doorbell yanked her out of her self-pity. Glancing at the clock, Isabel headed for the door, hoping that Tray had somehow read her thoughts and come back.

CHAPTER TEN

Isabel opened the door to find Jenny standing on the other side, holding takeout coffee and a bag of pastries. She felt a little disappointed, but also pleased to have something to distract her from her dark thoughts.

“Latte anyone? Pain au chocolate?” She smiled, brushing past Isabel into the living room.

“Mais oui,” Isabel quipped, stepping aside to let Jenny in, suddenly glad she’d taken the time to remove her bra and blouse from the back of the couch.

Jenny sailed into the kitchen, plunked the coffee down onto the island and pulled out a stool. “The pastries need to go in the toaster oven for a few minutes. They come from that little pastry shop on Fourth – I love that place.”

“I know it,” agreed Isabel. She dug under the counter for a pan and set the toaster oven to preheat.

“So…” probed Jenny. “Do tell what happened with the fine doctor last night?” She propped herself onto a stool and leaned into the counter.

Isabel knew Jenny well enough to know she would not let this go easily, but last night had been so delicious that Isabel wanted to savor the experience and keep the details to herself.

“The last I saw of you, you were almost doing the horizontal dance – in a standing position, no less – with that young blonde.” Jenny’s eyes sparkled and danced with anticipation.

Isabel shrugged and grinned, turning away to put the pan of pastries in the toaster oven. “We just got tired of the music and went somewhere quieter to talk.”

“Oh, come on, Isabel! Things were pretty steamy between you two. I’m not buying that story for a minute.”

“Well, we went for a bite to eat.”

“I’ll bet,” interrupted Jenny, laughing. “You can’t fool me, girlfriend. I haven’t seen that light in your eyes for several years. You got lucky last night.”

Isabel felt the heat rising in her cheeks and cursed her light coloring. Blushing was something she’d never been able to control, it always gave her away when she most wanted to keep things to herself.

“Uh huh. I knew it,” cried Jenny triumphantly. “Do tell. You tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

Isabel laughed and, surrendering, pulled out the stool across from Jenny. She removed the top from the take-out latte and breathed deeply of the rich aroma. Taking a sip, she smiled impishly at her friend. “Well, I did bring him home.”

“You brought him here?”

“I didn’t know what else to do. It was late, and, well, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” Isabel knew she’d taken a chance bringing him home, but Jenny’s reaction underlined that. Jenny was far more experienced in the world of single dating than she was.

“Well, you’re still here, so nothing to worry about. When you’re done I have something important to tell you about him. You used a condom, right?” Jenny asked, suddenly more concerned with logistics and safety than sexy details.

“Yes, Mom,” teased Isabel. “Come on, Jenny, I may be out of the picture a little, but I’m not from another world altogether.” She’d seen enough sexually transmitted diseases in her practice. Men, and women, unfaithful to their spouses, bringing the odd little disease home. Suddenly having to explain to their partners how they contracted the STD. Some marriages were finished when infidelity knocked on the door. And the ones that didn’t end there often knocked on Isabel’s door. In those cases, Isabel, the doctor, had started advising couples to practice safe sex even with their marriage partners, in case they continued to stray. How sad was that? “You know something about Tray?”

“I do, but it’ll keep.” Jenny slurped her coffee and peered into the door of the toaster oven. “So, you’re safe at home, you used a safe…what next?”

“Jenny,” sighed Isabel. “This isn’t high school. Do we have to do this? He said, she said?” Isabel had waited three years to have this most incredible sexual experience and she was not ready to share it. Not even with her best friend.

“Okay. I give. Keep your secrets.” Jenny sighed and made an exaggerated face, rolling her eyes. “I was just hoping to live vicariously through your adventures, is all.”

Isabel sputtered coffee onto the counter. “You! Live through my adventures? That’s a laugh, Jenny. You usually have more fun in one weekend than I’ve had in my lifetime.” Isabel knew she couldn’t live her life like Jenny lived hers, but she admired her friend’s spunk and constant openness to new experiences. Jenny had been skydiving and bungee jumping and once took a year off to rattle around Europe with a backpack. Not many women in their thirties had the courage to follow that path. “Anyway, I saw you ready to climb that mountain of Mediterranean man you were dancing with. Did you plant your flag at the top of that peak?”

“I guess,” Jenny snickered. “He was cute, wasn’t he? And the interesting thing is, he was older, too. I thought the club would be filled with twenty-something stock brokers and web designers, but Kristoph was in his early thirties. Just a few years younger than me.”

“So you didn’t live up to your calling as a cougar?”

“There’s still time for that,” Jenny winked. “I just meant it was nice to meet a man who I had some things in common with. He remembered where he was when Elvis died, for example.”

Isabel knew what she meant. Although Tray was clearly so much younger than she was, there was still some sort of connection, a meeting of the minds. They knew some of the same movies and he’d been familiar with her selection of music when he’d picked out a CD last night. Her thoughts drifted to Tray leaning over her stereo, tight buns well defined under his tight blue jeans.

“Isabel…Hellooooo!”

“Sorry, Jenny. What was that?”

“I asked if you would be seeing him again? Mr. Mystery Man that you won’t tell me anything about?”

That was a question Isabel wanted to know the answer to herself. She supposed that she probably wouldn’t. She didn’t have a way to contact him. Unless he just showed up at her door. There was that wishful thinking again.

“Do you want to see him again?” asked Jenny, never content to leave well enough alone.

“I don’t know, Jenny. The idea was just to have one night. And I had it…” Isabel trailed off, a silly grin spreading over her face. Oh, yes, she had had it all right.

“Issy, look how happy you are. Remember who you’re talking to? Only four days ago you told me you haven’t been out in three years and now you’re blushing and grinning like a school girl. This could be a good thing, even if just for a while. Help you stop taking life so seriously.”

She knew Jenny was right, but how was she to continue a liaison with Tray? “Jenny, I don’t even have a number for him. I have no idea where he lives.”

“We could go back to the club tonight,” offered Jenny.

“That’s rather desperate, isn’t it? I mean, chasing him back to the club.” Isabel’s heart sank at the thought of doing that.

“Isabel Chapel, I’m surprised at you,” Jenny admonished. “You told me, only a few days ago, that if you didn’t do some ‘field work’ – your words not mine – then you were in danger of losing even more patients. Now you’re presented with a golden opportunity and you’re willing to let it walk away from you.”

Isabel knew she was right. She’d worked so hard and yet things seemed to be unraveling around her. Last week, two cancelled appointments; this week, three cancelled appointments. At the rate she was going, soon she wouldn’t have any clients at all. In time, the referrals would stop too. It was a small community, professionally, and it wouldn’t take long for word to get around.

“You’re right Jenny, I know you are. I just don’t think I can face going back into that club tonight to look for him.”

“I may know how to get a hold of him.”

“You know him?” Isabel placed her hands on the counter, confusion racing through her.

“Not him, but the guy he was there with last night - Barry - he’s one of my neighbors,” said Jenny, suddenly quiet.

“The guy you went skiing with a couple of times last winter?”

Nodding, Jenny stared into her coffee cup and then looked directly at Isabel. “I don’t want to scare you with what I have to tell you.”

“Scare me? What do you mean, scare me?” Isabel felt the bottom fall out of her stomach and she remembered what Jenny had said when she first came in. “You said you had something important to tell me about him?”

“Tray didn’t tell you what happened at the club last night, did he?” Jenny asked. Isabel shook her head. “Do you remember him chasing off the first guy who bought you that drink?”

Isabel nodded again. “Scott. Tray knew his girlfriend.”

“Not exactly,” said Jenny, fidgeting. “But he did know something about Scott.” Jenny recounted the story she heard from Barry, who had watched the whole scene from the dance floor.

“He put a rape drug in my drink?” Isabel grabbed the counter, nausea rolling through her. “Oh my god. And then I left the club with a man I didn’t even know.” The full implications hit her all at once.

“Barry said there’s no one you could be safer with than Tray, and Barry’s a cop.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this last night?” Isabel paced the kitchen, feeling caged-in, and turned to confront Jenny.

“I didn’t know until this morning. I ran into Barry at the bakery when I was picking up coffee. I had to tell you, but I didn’t want to alarm you. It’s over now, and it turned out all right.”

Isabel stood at the patio door looking into the back garden. Feeling unstable, she concentrated on focusing on her small piece of the world. It was a tiny garden, but she loved it; filled with daffodils in spring and hollyhock in summer. The small bush in the corner was spilling a blanket of golden and rust-colored leaves across the lawn. When she felt Jenny’s hand on her shoulder, she started to weep.

“Oh, Isabel,” said Jenny, embracing her. “I feel terrible. I took you down there and put you in danger. Listen, Barry said this has never happened there before. And Scott is well known to the police. If Tray hadn’t seem him, then Barry would’ve.”