“Wade.” Melanie turned luminous blue eyes on him and, instantly, the anger vanished and tears welled. “You—you brought me to the reunion. Why would you treat me this way?”
Wade shook his head. “Save the act for somebody who buys it. You couldn’t have cared less what Phoebe and I were doing—”
“Phoebe and you.” Anger distorted Melanie’s pretty features and she tossed her long, shining hair back. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on Phoebe. “Sneaking around behind my back. My own sister. My twin. You’ve always wanted him, haven’t you? You’ve been in love with him the whole time, but he was mine.”
“That’s enough.” Wade took Melanie’s elbow, but she shook him off. Around them, people had stopped dancing and were staring openly, watching the drama unfold.
And Melanie loved it, Phoebe knew. She was the quintessential drama queen. This act was perfect for her.
“No,” Melanie said, and her voice grew shrill. “That’s not nearly enough. I will never forgive you for this, Wade. And you.” She stabbed an angry finger in Phoebe’s direction. “I wish I never had to see you again!”
And with one final toss of her bright tresses, Melanie whirled and stomped away, fury radiating from every move. The only thing that spoiled it was that she’d had far too much to drink and she staggered as she headed for the door, jostling a gaping group of classmates. “Get out of my way,” she shrieked. She had worked herself into a sobbing fit of tears by that time.
Wade turned back to Phoebe. “We’d better go after her. She’s had way too much to drink.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “It’s a good thing she doesn’t have a car.”
“Come with me.” He held out a hand.
She shook her head, her throat clogged with sobs. “No. She’ll be impossible if she sees me. You know she’ll calm down if she doesn’t see us together.”
Wade nodded, letting his hand drop to his side as he acknowledged the truth of her statement.
She turned and walked to the table where her small evening bag lay. “Here.” She extended her car keys. “You take her home. I’ll catch a ride later.”
Wade took the keys. Then he caught her hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips for a moment. “I’ll call you,” he said.
Her heart leaped at the tender gesture. Could he really mean it? Could this evening, the moments between them on the dance floor, really be the day she’d dreamed of since she was old enough to feel her heart beating faster in his presence?
She offered him a shaky smile. “I’ll look forward to it,” she said, clutching the promise to her heart as he started away.
Just then, they heard tires shrieking in the parking lot.
“What the hell…?” Wade began to run full-out.
Phoebe rushed after him. She reached the door just in time to see her car flying out of the parking lot and down the road, and she knew immediately what had happened. Melanie knew Phoebe kept a spare key in a magnetic box in the wheel well. She’d taken the car.
Phoebe tore her mouth from Wade’s. “This isn’t—we can’t do this.” She was embarrassed that she was practically panting. And then she realized that she had a death grip on his wide shoulders. And worse, she’d made no move to separate their bodies, which were stuck like two slices of the peanut butter bread she often slapped together for lunch.
Wade’s eyebrows rose. There was a glint in his eye that looked almost dangerous. “We just did.”
“Anymore,” she tacked on belatedly, removing her hands and stepping back, forcing him to release her.
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
“Because…”
“Because your life is in California—” she spread her hands “—or wherever, and mine is here in New York now.”
“Mine won’t be wherever anymore,” he informed her. “I’m going to live here if that’s where you two will be. It’s not half-bad.”
“It gets really cold in the winter.”
“I lived at West Point for four years, remember? Believe me, I know how cold it gets here.”
“You always said you wanted to live somewhere warm,” she reminded him.
“Being around for my daughter is a lot more important than worrying about the temperature. So your reasoning doesn’t hold. What else is bothering you?”
“Well…It isn’t fair of you to spring this on me without giving me a chance to think about it.” I can’t get involved with him.
Why? He wanted you after the funeral. And before, at the dance.
Wanting isn’t love.
It’s a start.
No false hope, she lectured herself. He wanted to teach Mel a lesson at the reunion. It wasn’t his fault she’d flown off the handle and everything had gone so horribly wrong. And the other…What guy’s going to say no when a woman pretty much tears his clothes off and has her way with him?
“Take your time. I’m listening.”
But he wasn’t. His eyes were on Bridget, watching her every move with an intensity that was painful to see. It was obvious he’d forgotten all about the kiss.
Bridget was happily oblivious. She was still lying on the floor with the toy she’d finally managed to snag. She rolled over on her back and was vigorously shaking it so that a musical chime sounded inside.
“She entertains herself well for her age.” Phoebe glanced at her watch, trying to keep her voice from quavering. It tore at her heart to see Wade so desperately interested in his child. “But any minute now she’s going to realize that it’s snack time.”
Friendly. Neighborly. That was the ticket. She could ignore her temporary lapse in judgment if she just concentrated on remembering Wade several years earlier as he’d been before—before anything had happened. They’d been friends. No reason they couldn’t continue to be friends.
Wade still wasn’t looking at her although she had a feeling he knew exactly why she’d changed the subject. But he didn’t object, merely followed her cue. “Won’t a snack spoil her dinner?”
“Not if it’s a small snack like a cracker. And we don’t usually eat until close to six.” And then they’d sit down to dinner together, just like a real family.
A real family? What was she thinking? They were not a family. They were two people who had known each other for a long time and who now shared a child. But they hadn’t shared most of the other basic details that members of a real family would have.
And they might not be a real family, but they certainly were going to be doing many of the things that families did. Her best bet, she decided, was to treat him as a tenant. Or no, maybe a boarder…he’d already announced he was moving in, so they were going to have to handle all the dumb little details, like meals and who bought toilet paper.
And there was the fact that they hadn’t really talked about custody or visitation or any of the much bigger issues that had been haunting her all day. “I have to get dinner organized,” she said, knowing she sounded less than gracious. “Nothing fancy, just a roast I put in the Crock-Pot this morning.”
“I love red meat. It doesn’t have to be fancy.” He said it with a straight face and perfectly innocent eyes. Was she only imagining the double entendre?
She felt her face slowly heating and she turned away before he could see her blushing. “I’ll make dinner if you’d like to play with Bridget.”
“What do you do with her when you’re alone?”
“She comes into the kitchen with me. I used to put her in an infant seat and sing to her but recently I’ve been able to lay a blanket down and let her roll around on it.”