Love - From His Point Of View!: Meeting at Midnight

“Oh,” Seely said, one hand rising to her mouth to smother a giggle. She crouched to pet the droopy-eared puppy. “Oh, Doofus. You did try to go out, didn’t you, boy?”

Saved from my own worst self by a puppy’s bladder. Mortified, I said stiffly, “I apologize. I said you wouldn’t have to deal with, uh, grabby hands, and then…all I can do is apologize, and promise it won’t happen again.”

Her gaze took a lazy trip up me while she fondled the puppy’s ears. She made a tch-ing sound, shook her head and stood. “Didn’t your sister ever tell you? Never apologize to a woman for kissing her—not if she kissed you back.”

My ears felt hot. The rest of me was sore, aroused, exhausted and bewildered. “The last employer who made a pass at you ended up wearing someone else’s dinner.”

“Ben.” Her smile started in her eyes and glowed its way down to her mouth. She patted my cheek. “You’re not Vic, are you?”

She turned away, picked up my walking stick and handed it to me. “What you should be apologizing for is interfering in my arrangements with the mechanic. I suppose your intentions were good, but it was intolerably high-handed. How much did the repairs cost?”

“I don’t know yet, and it doesn’t matter.”

“Probably not,” she agreed easily, turning away. “Since I doubt I’d be able to repay you. I’d better get something to clean up that puddle.”

“You don’t have to repay me. I don’t want you to.”

She headed for the kitchen. “As far as I’m concerned, the car is yours now. I’ll get the title switched over as soon as possible.”

I frowned. Her threat about the car was annoying, but not a real problem. If she put it in my name, I’d just put it back in hers. A much bigger worry was my own behavior.

My sister, Annie, has accused me of seeing everything in black-and-white. Maybe I do. But right and wrong have never seemed all that complicated, and if a man knows what’s right, that’s what he should do. Even when it’s hard. Maybe especially then.

Kissing Seely was wrong. I knew that, even if she didn’t. She was an employee. She was also a warm, giving sort of woman who deserved better than hand-me-downs from a man in love with another woman.

I knew that. So why had I kissed her?

No answers floated up. I stood there, aware of a number of places that hurt, and the lingering hum of arousal that defied the pain. After a moment I sighed and limped for the bathroom.

There was one bright spot. I’d stepped in the blasted puddle with my right foot, not my left. At least I could wash it myself.

Five

“Does it hurt a lot?” Zach asked.

“Not anymore.”

“How much does it hurt? This much?” He used his thumb and forefinger to take a tiny pinch of air. “Or this much?” He held out both hands broadly.

“About like this.” I measured a couple of inches between my finger and thumb. “More at bedtime, because I’m tired.”

He nodded seriously. “When I’m sick I hurt more at bedtime. How does this thing go on?” He pointed at my sling.

We were sitting on the rear deck, enjoying what was probably one of the last warm afternoons of the year. Zach was perched on my right thigh. My left foot was propped up on a little table to keep the knee elevated. That had been Seely’s idea, keeping the knee elevated, and I guess it did help. The swelling had gone down some. Doofus lay nearby, panting hopefully.

I showed Zach how my sling fastened, undoing one of the Velcro tapes and letting him restick it a few times. Velcro was one of Zach’s favorite things. He wanted to know if he could have the sling to play with after I was all better.

I smiled. “Sure.” God only knew what he planned to do with it. That didn’t matter. The important thing was that he’d accepted I would be “all better” eventually.

He told me Doofus was lonely and clambered down to play with his pup. I handed him his magnifying glass—another of his favorite things—and pup and boy ran off to look for bugs. My throat closed up as I watched them. I’d come so close to never having an afternoon like this again.

On the other side of the sliding glass doors behind me, Seely was chopping things in the kitchen and talking to Gwen. The two of them seemed to have really hit it off. That was undoubtedly a good thing, but it made me uncomfortable. Women tell each other the damnedest things sometimes.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Not that I thought about it every second. I had plenty of other things on my mind, like reassuring Zach, trying to set up the remodel job at the resort without leaving the house, and problems on the Pearson site.

But the memory of that kiss kept ambushing me.

I’d been eating lunch—Seely had made cheeseburgers—and all of a sudden I’d noticed her hands, the long fingers and short nails, and I’d remembered how she’d dug those fingers into my back. When Doofus tried to trip me on the way to the bathroom, I thought about how he’d nearly caused another accident.

Shoot, in the middle of a crossword puzzle the word erupt made me think of volcanoes, lava and heat, and I was right back with that kiss. All day long, it kept popping out at me like a jack-in-the-box with a broken lid.

I didn’t like it. It’s not that I expect to control my thoughts a hundred percent of the time, but I don’t like being pushed around by them, either.

Maybe hiring Seely hadn’t been such a great idea. I was stuck with the decision, though. It wouldn’t be fair to change my mind now. I’d just have to get myself up to par as quickly as possible so I could let her go.

And then she wouldn’t be off-limits anymore.

That sneaky thought annoyed me. I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair. Once Seely’s employment with me was over, she probably wouldn’t be in Highpoint anymore, either. Duncan had found her at the bus station, for God’s sake. And I wasn’t interested in trying to persuade a reluctant woman to stay. I’d failed miserably the last time.

My chest tightened. That twitchy, brittle feeling climbed over me, the one that had ridden me too often lately, as if I were wearing my skin backward. One wrong move could split it, spilling all sorts of messy, inner bits out on the dirty ground. Yet I craved motion, action.

I was scared.

I’d wanted Gwen, wanted her for keeps. I’d gone at getting her to marry me the way I go after any important goal, giving it everything I had. And I’d flopped, big-time. She’d fallen for my brother.

Plenty of times in the last few months I’d told myself I needed to start looking for a woman to share my life. And hadn’t done it. I’d begun to wonder what was wrong with me, if maybe I was too old to marry for the first time. Maybe my standards were too high, or there was something missing in me. Maybe I’d missed my chance for a family of my own.

For a long, still moment, I sat there in my wicker chair on the deck I’d built and faced a truth I’d been dodging. Deep down, I wasn’t sure I could handle failing again.

The late-afternoon sunshine hit the yard at a strong slant, dragging long shadows from the poplars along the back fence that striped the yard in plump diagonals. I hadn’t mowed the grass in three weeks. It was still green but had stopped growing. The leaves on the oak showed more gold than green in the autumn sun.

By the back gate, Zach and Doofus were digging industriously. I smiled, wondering what he was digging for. Gold? Diamonds? Or the sheer joy of making a nice, big hole in the ground?

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I never managed to pull off the wife-and-family bit. I had Zach. I didn’t have him every day, but lots of fathers were in that position these days. Didn’t they say that happiness lay in being content with what you have, instead of yearning for more?

My fingers started drumming again. To hell with that. Sounded like giving up to me.

The doors behind me slid open, and a wonderful aroma drifted out.

“Thought you might like some sweet tea,” Seely said. “It’s a Southern tradition.”

“Sure. Thanks.” I accepted the glass she held out, willing to try one of her traditions. “I don’t need that jacket, Gwen.”

Seely took the old rocker. Gwen sat in the wicker chair that matched mine, laying my jacket across her knees. “If you say so. You know me—I’m always cold.” She studied my face a moment. “You’re right, Seely. He does look better. Hard to believe he’s actually been behaving.”

“I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m incapable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a few years now.” I took a sip of tea. “This is good. So, I guess the two of you have been, uh, getting acquainted?”