To Love An Older Man

He picked up his half-full wineglass as he stood. Beth’s gaze drew to the snugness of his jeans and she quickly looked away.

“You can’t leave yet,” Maude said. “We haven’t had dessert.”

“I’ll pass.”

“You can’t. Beth made a peach parfait.”

“That’s all right,” Beth said quickly. “It’ll keep.”

David eyed her, his expression unreadable, and then his gaze swept the table. “Excuse me, ladies.”

Maude started to say something, but refrained when Beth threw her a pleading look. No one said another word until David left, and then Ida spoke.

“That boy is going to work himself to death. He’ll end up having a heart attack just like his daddy.” She sent Maude an apologetic glance. “God rest his soul.”

“Yes,” Maude said absently, clearly distracted as she stared off after David. “But he did come home early. That’s something.”

“That it is.” Ida glanced at Beth and then tried to hide a smile behind her napkin.

Beth saw it though and wondered what the heck that meant. “He probably wanted to make sure I’d left. I promised him I’d be gone today.”

Maude’s brows rose sharply. “David wouldn’t expect you to leave with no place to go.” Her gaze flickered. “He told me a little about your situation. I hope you don’t mind.”

Beth shook her head, and noticed that Ida’s interest had suddenly piqued. Maude would have a time evading her questions. Beth didn’t care. She set her barely touched food aside and stood.

Maude’s concerned gaze met hers. “You haven’t finished your dinner.”

“I’ll be back to clear the table after you’ve had dessert. It’s in the fridge.”

“But where are you going?”

Beth took a deep breath. She hated nothing worse than confrontation. “To talk to your son.”

THE KNOCK at his study door was too soft to be either his mother or Ida. That left Beth. For a moment he thought about not answering. But that would be childish. Anyway, she’d corner him sooner or later.

He hadn’t even opened his briefcase yet and he quickly placed a stack of papers on the desk in front of him. “Come in.”

The door opened but he didn’t look up right away. He made a production out of dragging his gaze away from the top sheet as if it were the answer to the national debt instead of a proposal for the company Christmas party.

“I know I’m bothering you but this can’t wait.”

The determination in Beth’s voice surprised him and he leaned back and gave her his full attention. “No bother. Have a seat.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a nervous hand, and then lowered herself to the nearer of the two brown leather club chairs. She huddled to one side, leaving half the seat vacant.

“I’m sure you were disappointed I wasn’t gone by the time you got home, but I’d like to explain.” She shifted, crossing her legs. He tried not to look, but her hem rode up a few inches above her knees, capturing his interest.

“You see, your mother…” She hesitated, wrinkling her nose, no doubt searching for tact. “Well—”

“My mother could make Attila the Hun look like a cub scout when she has her mind set on something. You don’t have to explain.”

“But I do. I told you I’d be gone but she offered me the job of filling in for Ida and it seemed a great solution for both of us.”

“Of course. It makes perfect sense.”

“Then why do you look as though you want to bite my head off?”

David leaned back in his chair, admittedly feeling a little uneasy. Not angry. “I wasn’t aware I appeared that way.”

“It’s the clothes, isn’t it?”

“The clothes?”

She lifted her chin, tucked back her hair. “I’m paying her back every cent.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Your mother insisted we go shopping today. She bought me things.” Beth visibly swallowed. “Expensive clothes that may take me a while to repay, but once I get a real job I’ll send something every month.”

“What my mother does with her money is none of my concern. Even if she wanted to buy you a house, it still wouldn’t be my business.”

“But you are upset.”

“Not true. I had no idea you two went shopping today, although knowing Mother, I should have guessed.”

Beth cocked her head to the side. “So why are you in an icky mood? Was it the pork chops?”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Dinner truly was terrific. If I’ve been ‘icky,’ I assure you it has nothing to do with you.”

She studied him, disbelief written all over her face. “May I have a piece of paper and a pen?”

“Of course.” He sat up and handed her a sheet of his personal stationery. “This all right?”

She nodded. “I’m writing you an I.O.U.”

“A what?”

“An I.O.U. It’s a promise to pay—”

“I know what it is.” His patience slipped. “Is that how you handled things back in Idaho?”

Hurt flickered in her eyes. “Back on the farm a promise and a handshake were enough.”

Dammit. He hadn’t meant to sound critical or as if he were belittling her. If anything, her earnestness and accountability impressed him. She could’ve accepted his mother’s generosity without a qualm, knowing they had money. In his business, he’d grown used to freeloaders and people looking for an easy buck.

Not Beth. She wanted to sign an I.O.U. And he hadn’t a single doubt she’d make good on it.

He exhaled, rubbed his eyes. “Beth, you’re not going to write an I.O.U. Whatever my mother bought you, consider a gift.”