New Year's Wife

On that thought, Julie shifted her gaze to her first surprise, still standing next to her, his gaze on Don. Discreetly she assessed him—the man who’d broken her teenage heart so long ago. He looked older than his age, which she’d always assumed to be the same as Don’s. In fact, she could have sworn she saw a silver strand or two gleaming in his otherwise brown hair. And there were wrinkles around his eyes, too—little crow’s feet that the sun had most likely furrowed into his skin.

Or had hard living engraved them there? After all, it must be tough to seduce a woman at every port, or in his case, on every mountain.

Woman? Julie almost laughed. Not by a long shot. Just a teen with raging hormones, too easily flattered by big brother’s dashing college friend. She should have known that Tyler hadn’t meant a word he said.

And she should’ve gotten over it long ago.

At that moment, Tyler’s gaze found and locked with Julie’s. She jumped as if he’d reached out and touched her. Then, acutely embarrassed, she brushed past him to hurry up Don. Julie managed one step away before Tyler caught her by the arm.

“I’d really like to speak with you,” he said. “To explain…and apologize.”

“Whatever for?” Julie responded, easing her arm free. God, but he was still gorgeous. And at Tyler’s touch, every hormone in her body—hormones surely older and wiser—sprang to life and waved for attention just the way they had the first time she met him. Rattled, sweating, Julie could barely fake a smile.

Tyler laughed—a humorless sound. “I know damn good and well you remember what happened at your birthday party eight years ago. In fact…if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re still pretty steamed.” He sounded as if he couldn’t believe it, either.

“About something that happened that long ago? Trust me, Tyler, I’ve had much better things to do than carry a grudge against you. Besides, if anyone should apologize, it’s me for trailing after you like some little lost pup that first evening we met. As for that midnight fooling around—”

“Stop it!” Tyler hissed, stepping so close she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze.

But meet it she did. “You don’t owe me an explanation or an apology. That’s water way under the bridge. Now please excuse me. I have guests and a party to attend to.”

“Fine,” he coolly replied. “We’ll talk later. When everyone is gone.”

“Everyone will never be gone,” she said, stepping back to put precious inches between them. “In case you hadn’t noticed, this house is a lot like Grand Central Station…or maybe the Grand Hotel would be more appropriate?”

He winced, clearly picking up on the jibe. “I won’t hang around here long. Hell, I won’t hang around at all—if you’ll talk with me tonight.”

“Stay as long as you like,” she said. “It’s nothing to me.” With that, Julie whirled and hurried to Don and her dad, who had his video camera in hand.

At the sight of her grinning parent, Julie instantly regretted her rudeness to Tyler. Her father had seemed so lost since the death of Julie’s mother almost nine months ago. Knowing how devastating it was to lose a spouse, she suspected that loneliness was the main reason he’d begged her to come live with him again and not any desire to help her save rent money.

“Are you ready?” Don asked. His bright eyes and flushed cheeks bespoke his excitement, and Julie made a special effort to push her disturbing encounter with Tyler out of her head.

“Past ready,” she replied, trying to muster enthusiasm for Uncle Sy’s gift.

“Good. Now stay put until everyone is set, okay?”

“Okay,” Julie promised, biting back a smile. She felt a stirring of excitement. Never had she seen Don so worked up. What on earth awaited her out in the garage?

“Come on, Dad.” Don led the way to the back door, through which Tyler had just vanished. His dad grinned mysteriously at Julie, then followed. Don did the same.

Julie, blessedly alone for the moment, sucked in a couple of deep breaths to compose herself before she trailed her brother out the door. At first she saw nothing but her guests, standing all in a bunch. Then they stepped aside, en masse, to reveal…a car.

And not just any car—a wickedly red 1956 Corvette convertible in mint condition.

Julie knew this because she’d pointed out this very machine countless times at Uncle Sy’s Seattle automobile museum where she had worked so many summers. It was the most popular exhibit there.

Was.

Now, for some reason, it sat in her dad’s garage.

“Voil?!” Don exclaimed, flinging out his hand, palm upward, in the direction of the Corvette.

The car? Uncle Sy wanted her to have the car? Julie caught her breath. “You can’t mean…?”

“I do.”

“Oh my God.” At once Julie’s knees threatened to buckle. She clutched Kit’s arm for support, took several fortifying breaths, then moved, trancelike, toward the sleek roadster. Slowly she walked around it, touching first a fender, next a headlight and last the wind-shield.

“Well?” Don prompted when she’d completed her inspection.

“It’s real,” Julie announced. Her guests exploded into laughter…and congratulations.

“Get in,” John Newman prompted over the din, his eye to the camera.

Julie nodded rather numbly and obeyed. Once behind the wheel, she touched the dash, the radio, the white leather seat next to her…fully expecting everything to vanish. When they didn’t, she grasped the wheel, tossed her head back and closed her eyes, already imagining herself speeding down some scenic highway—mountains all around, blue sky and sunshine overhead, hair blowing in the wind.

“What a car. What a car.“ It was Kit, now sitting in the passenger seat. Julie looked at her in surprise—she hadn’t even heard the other door open. “Do you know what this baby’s worth?”

“Yes,” Julie said. At once she felt guilty. Though Uncle Sy had always been generous with his many nephews and nieces, he’d never given any of them something so expensive.

“Now don’t you worry about it,” Kit whispered as though reading her mind. “Apparently all the Newman cousins will get one when Uncle Sy dies. He just wanted you to have yours now. Dad’s supposed to send him the videotape so he can see your reaction.”

“But what did I ever do to deserve a gift like this?” Julie asked.

“You lived and worked with that old man for—” Kit frowned “—how many summers?”

“Six.”

“Well that’s six more than anyone else could’ve. Believe me, honey, you earned this car.”

Suddenly car keys dangled before Julie’s eyes. “Why don’t you take her for a spin?” Don suggested. “The roads are dry.”

“But my guests…”

“Dad’s taking care of them.”

Julie looked up to find that only three people remained in the garage besides herself—Don, Kit and…Tyler.

Tyler. She’d almost forgotten him in the excitement. But there he stood, not three feet away, as classically American as her little red sports car and every bit as dashing…damn him. His eyes never left her, and not sure how much more her poor old heart could take this night, Julie snatched the keys from Don.

“Yes!” Kit fairly bounced with excitement in the seat.

Don stepped away from the car. Julie inserted the key into the ignition. She paused before starting the engine, taking a moment to familiarize herself with the car. She saw the gear selector, the accelerator, the brake pedal and the…clutch. At once her soaring spirits took a nosedive.

“Oh, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Don demanded, instantly by her side again.