Stardust Miracle (9 page)

He smiled back. His eyes smiled, too. But on second look, she saw they weren’t really smiling. They were...

Smoldering?

Her breath sucked in
.

“Yes, I did.” She grabbed her wine glass and realized she wasn’t moping or devastated or even angry at Jim. Instead, it was as if she’d whipped through the seven stages of grief in the short time since she’d discovered him in his church office with Diana. As if she’d mourned the loss of him before it happened.

Her life with Jim seemed almost seemed like someone else’s life.

Except she knew that was wishful thinking. Maybe today she was okay. But tomorrow she might be in the depths again. Nothing was this easy, especially not divorce.

“I hope he doesn’t give you any trouble,” Derek said.

She looked at his face straight on and a great affection for him rose up inside her. But not
that
kind of affection. Not as a lover. More like an affection for a good friend who was feeding her one of her favorite foods.

Her voice was an octave too high when she changed the subject to the restaurant and the food. His eyes changed to... Eyes. Just eyes. Whatever she’d seen or thought she’d seen was no longer there.

It must have been just her imagination – that impression that every man she was alone with for a few minutes was mad for her body.

She had to stop this. It wasn’t as if she wanted or needed a man in her life. Right now the only male she considered living with had four feet, black fur and a tail.

The waiter came with their bread and soup. As soon as he left, she said, “Remember Goldie’s black puppy?”

He nodded, a slight crease on his forehead. She recalled that the puppy had peed on the toe of his shoes when he picked her up to take her to the restaurant. But he’d laughed and used a paper towel to wipe it off.

“A friendly guy,” he said. “Very sharing.” 

She laughed, loosening up. She hoped she was hiding her surprise at his play on words.

There was more to Derek than she’d thought.

“We’ve bonded these last couple of days,” she said. “I’d love to keep him, but I can’t see how that could work.”

“He’d be a good watchdog for when you move into your own place. Friendly, but a barker.”

“And a pee-er.”

Cutting the bread, he laughed more than her comment deserved and his eyes crinkled into slits.

“I’d have to find a place that would accept pets,” she added.

“I can’t think of anyone in Miracle who allows pets for renters. And labs have a bad reputation for chewing.”

“I probably won’t stay in Miracle. I’ll need a job and there aren’t any in Miracle that I know of.” She gave a smile that insisted on teetering. She grabbed the glass of water to hide her wobble. Another scary part of this new life... But other women had been through this, and they managed. She would, too.

“I do a lot of websites for businesses in the area,” Derek said. “I could ask around. Check and see what’s available.”

A rush of gratitude clogged her throat. “Thanks for being a good friend.” She heard the huskiness in her voice. As if tears weren’t far behind.

Dipping his bread in the herbed olive oil, he hesitated then gazed at her. The look in his eyes was intent, as if he were trying to see what was in her mind. And his face... It shone. As if lit from within.

Her hand holding the spoonful of minestrone shook. Maybe it was because of the way he looked at her, so tenderly, but she was feeling...amorous.

Her spoon shook more, drops spilling. Good grief, this was ridiculous.

He dropped the crust, then reached up to steady her hand and guided it down to the cup. Her gaze followed the spoon. She couldn’t look at his face anymore – it was too...unsettling. She wasn’t ready for...whatever
this
was leading to.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice low. And her gaze whipped up to his face. He didn’t let go of her hand, and she released the spoon, her fingers nerveless, her heart fluttering wildly.

“I want to be more than a friend.”

She opened her mouth but no words came out. It wasn’t that her voice was stuck. It was her brain.

Are you crazy? Look at me. I’m seven years older than you. You could have a twenty-one year old if you put some effort into it.

Another part of her was picking out something sexy to wear to bed with him.

“Jim was a jerk to cheat on you,” he went on, in the voice men used when they were on the edge of desperation. When they really wanted to convince the other person of something. A voice she never expected to hear from Derek. Or any man. She wasn’t the kind of woman men said that to. She was too...unexciting. Too ordinary.

But she nodded for him to go on. That she was listening. Boy, was she listening. She felt oddly composed now, though her heart thundered inside her chest. As if she were watching a movie where the leading man said this to an older actress, and Becky was waiting for the actress to answer him...rooting for him. Wanting him to have his happy ever after.

“I know it’s early,” he continued, “but can you tell me if there’s a chance you’ll feel the same way about me?”

A moment went by while she stared at him. Waiting for the actress to answer him.

At the table behind them, someone laughed. A waitress threaded between tables, carrying two plates with pasta and some kind of meat that smelled like oregano and mozzarella. Two of her favorite smells.

“If it’s ‘no,’” he said, his voice so low she had to lean in to hear him, “then tell me. I’ll still be your friend.”

Damn it. She’d have to answer. She put her hand over her forehead and leaned in another inch. “It is too early.” And then seeing the stillness in his face, the tension in his clenched jaws, she hurriedly said, “But, yes. There’s a chance.”

He sat back, smiling, his shoulders loosening, his back taller, the tension visibly rolling off him.

She smiled back and thought of all the reasons she should have declined. But all she’d said was that there was a chance. And so what if he were seven years younger? If their sexes were switched, no one would think twice about it. Diana was a good ten years younger than Jim.

Not that she wanted to be a man. Or to have her circumstances compared to Diana’s and Jim’s.

Today she quite liked being a woman.

“Good,” he said. “Good.”

She started eating her soup, her hand steady again. Eating was safe. Talking wasn’t always safe. There wasn’t anything to say right now anyway. By the time it was reasonable for her to be looking around, she’d know what she wanted.

Warmth settled inside her. Her friend Derek thought of her
that way
. He wanted to make love to her.

The idea astounded her, and at the same time thrilled her. She liked the idea. Liked it a lot.

For so many years she’d felt almost sexless. But now she felt desirable – and a bit wicked.

Derek asked what kind of job she was looking for, and her ‘feeling-like-a-sex-symbol moment’ deflated.

“I’m not qualified for anything.” She glanced around the restaurant. “I could waitress.” If anyone wanted her. “Or cook.” She was a decent cook.

“You should get half the money. If Jim—”

“I do have half the joint bank account and any investments will be shared.” She shrugged. She would’ve given Jim credit for that, but she put some of his compliance and generosity down to the photos of him and Diana. Plus, her father was still backing Jim. But if Jim treated her badly on the financial end, her father might change his mind.

“I have enough to get by for a while,” she said. “If I’m frugal. But I have to think of the future. I don’t have social security. I need to build up equity in myself.”

“What do you want to do?”

Be a mom.
The waiter came with her mushroom ravioli, and she managed to keep her smile on even though gnarled monster talons reached into her chest and squeezed her heart.

She went through the motions of eating – taking a bite and chewing – and the squeezing eased. The talons disappeared and slunk into hiding. Hypervigilant. Ready to spring out another day.

“I don’t have any natural talents.” She took another bite and this one she was able to enjoy. If she could only cook like this—

“You do have a talent,” he said. “You make people feel comfortable.”

She put down her fork. “That’s called being a people pleaser.”

“It’s more than that. You have a talent for making people feel that you care. I’ve always felt that way around you.”

She took a sip of wine before answering. “I always cared about you.”

His mouth broke into another wide smile. As if she’d given him his greatest wish. 

Her stomach clenched with a mix of dread and excitement.

What had she started now?

And what next?

Chapter Thirteen

They lingered at the table, long after the meal. Becky sipped an extra glass of wine, something she hadn’t done since her wedding night. Finally only two other tables were occupied and they left. On the way out, Derek took her hand and she curled her fingers around his. She felt lighter than usual. It was partly the wine, but mostly she just felt happy.

“I’ll remember this,” he said.

“Me, too.” She felt young tonight. On a date with a cute guy whose eyes shone every time he looked at her. Even on the street now, she could see the sappy expression on his face.

As she smiled at him, he bent forward as if he were going to kiss her. On a public street. With lights shining from every window and four street lamps on this side of the street.

Panic rose in her throat and chest, and she broke away from him. She hurried to his car parked in front of the laundromat two doors down.

Once inside the car, the panic diminished. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean anything. It’s just that...” Just that she was stupidly embarrassed. She was even embarrassed to say she was embarrassed.

This dating thing was hard.

“Technically, you’re still married,” he said, the car starting. “I understand.”

She thought he probably did. She leaned back and a lethargy swept over her. A happy lethargy. Her body relaxed. Feeling taken care of.

She remained wrapped in the glow as they drove out of the city. Stars blanketed the night sky and twinkled down on them like a magical scene out of a Disney movie. Cold Play was on Derek’s car stereo and the waistband of her slacks was still comfortable.

She felt like a different woman. She
was
a different woman. No longer the quiet, responsible one who never smoked weed, who never dirty danced in public, who’d only made love to one man.

She still had never done any of that...but the last one might change sometime soon.

It occurred to her that she had a lot to make up for. She’d lived a tame life, and right now she wanted to get a little wild.

Too soon the headlights shone on the village sign that said there was a population of six hundred twenty-nine. Becky shivered. When they’d driven to Tomahawk tonight, she’d thought she was going to dinner with a friend. Odd to feel so different on the drive back home. As if she were in high school and wondering what was going to happen when they reached her house. As if she’d stepped into an alternate universe.

In a couple minutes they were at Sarah’s house. The lights were out at the Webber’s across the street. Derek pulled his car into the driveway and parked at the side of the house. A row of trees blocked his car from anyone else’s view.

No one could see them.

The wind picked up, and it gusted down the street. Derek’s breaths were harsh and fast. With an edge to them. Her heart thumped and inside the car the tension level elevated. Her skin heated and prickled.

If she stayed any longer, she would have to take her coat off.

She would have to take all her clothes off.

Her gaze remained forward, her spine straight, but she could feel Derek’s stare. She could feel her breasts tighten. She tightened all over.

“Remember when I asked you to the restaurant?” he asked, his voice thicker than normal. “You said, ‘I’d love to be your first.’”

“Yes.” She heard her voice. A whisper. Softer than the wind.

When he didn’t reply right away, she looked at him. His forehead was furrowed, his shoulders stiff. He gave off vibrations of distress. Of pain. Emotional pain, not physical.

A sound came out of her mouth, and she leaned sideways, her hand on his forearm. His arm clenched, as if her touch caused him more pain. Instead of letting him go, she wrapped her fingers around his arm.

“What is it? What’s wrong, Derek?”

“Did you mean it?” His voice croaked low with an emotion she couldn’t name, and he stared into her eyes, as if he tried to read her mind in the darkness. “About being my first?”

“I came to the restaurant with you. So, yes... It was my pleas—” 

He pulled his arm away from her, and she yanked her hand back to her side. In the dim light, she could see the withdrawal in his face. She’d said something wrong, but she didn’t know what.

“Not my first for the restaurant.” His voice was muffled and he looked ahead at the two-car garage.

And slowly, like watching simmering water turn to a boil, she
got
what he meant.

In his awkward, clumsy, nerdy way, he was asking her to...

A compulsion to laugh made her clamp her lips together and curl her hands tightly. She liked Derek too much to let loose. He wouldn’t understand. But, oh God, her stomach hurt from holding back.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll walk you to the door.”

She heard the click of the door opening and a silent cry rose up inside her head, killing the need to laugh, drowning it with a need to comfort. “No,” she said aloud.

He started, turning to her. She reached out and grabbed his upper arm.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Underneath his jacket, she felt the bunched muscle of his bicep. She had a stray thought that he was more ripped than she’d suspected.

“Yes,” she said. And she didn’t even know if this were the best thing for her to do. But she wanted to do it. She wanted it for him.