Once a Rebel

But he wasn’t, she thought. He was fully clothed now. “I heard that hats make men go bald.”

“Then I’d really be naked.” He gave his Stetson or Resistol or whatever it was a longing glance. “This bites.”

She smiled, knowing she’d won. “Maybe I’ll kiss you tonight.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Really?”

“On the cheek.”

“Tease.” He stood and offered to help her up.

She accepted his hand and his sense of humor. His eyes were twinkling, as blue as the sea, as the sky, as every poetic description she could think of.

A moment later, they took his truck and left for the restaurant in companionable silence.

Red was a converted two-story hacienda brimming with charm. The first floor served as the eatery, with dark wood tables and terra-cotta tiles. Leafy plants and dim lighting offered a cozy atmosphere.

Susan and Ethan sat at a candle-steeped table, and from her vantage point, Susan could see the courtyard where paper lanterns were strung, like leftover holiday lights bouncing off red umbrellas.

The waitress, a friendly brunette, brought them their menus, took their drink orders and departed with a swish of her flouncing uniform. Susan glanced around. Amber, she assumed, was blond.

“The combination platters are really good,” Ethan said.

Susan quit scouting the room and scanned the menu instead. Not a blonde in sight. “Everything looks good.”

“Yeah. I’m starving.” After a busboy delivered their drinks and placed a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa on the table, Ethan dived into them. “I eat out a lot. It’s a hassle to cook for myself.”

“For me, too.” She pondered over a beef burrito or a chicken enchilada, then gave in to her curiosity. “Did you meet Amber here?”

“Yep.” He said it casually, reaching for another chip. “She was separated from her husband and going through a rough time.”

“And you helped her?”

“Oh, sure.” He laughed a little. “I helped her come to the conclusion that she was still in love with her husband.”

Susan dipped into the salsa, waking up her taste buds. “I guess she isn’t working tonight.”

“Not tonight or any other night. She doesn’t work here anymore.” He frowned at her. “Did you think I picked this place because of her? I don’t play those kinds of games.”

“I didn’t see it as a game. Besides, I heard that we look alike.”

“Who? You and Amber?” He sat back in his chair, the frown digging deeper into his skin. “Who told you that?”

“Cathy.”

“Cathy?”

“The teenager whose mom used to babysit Amber’s son.”

“Oh, that Cathy. The kid who sneaks cigarettes. I’ll bet she got to you.”

“Yes, she did. In fact, she’s the reason I came to see you. But first I want to know if what she said is true.”

He gave her a point-blank stare. “Why? Is it some sort of crime for me to sleep with petite blondes?”

“So we do look alike.”

“Not enough to mix you up. And I didn’t even recognize you when I first saw you.”

Which meant that Amber looked more like the way she used to look. Longer hair, darker makeup, sexier clothes. “It could be a Freudian crime.”

He broke into a smile. “Then you should cure me. Take me to bed or something.”

“Nice try.” She smiled, too, but her pulse was tripping like an acid-dropping hippie. Even the flame on the candle was jumping.

The waitress came by to take their food order. Suddenly Susan was glad the other woman was a brunette. It was foolish to feel that way, but she couldn’t help it. She was getting territorial about Ethan.

By the time their meals arrived, she almost convinced herself that she should sleep with him. Almost. But somewhere in the recesses of her brain, she knew an affair would do spongy things to her heart. In spite of her teenage track record, sex had never been casual. For Susan, it came with a price. An emotional price, where attachments were formed, where she needed her partners to care, even the boys who’d passed her around like candy.

She watched Ethan attack his combination platter. He mixed up his food, the chili rellenos and tamales that sat beside hearty helpings of rice and beans.

“Why didn’t you kiss me when we were young?” she asked, her thoughts mired in the past. “I knew you wanted to. I could feel it every time we were together.”

He nearly dropped his fork. “What kind of question is that?”

“An honest one.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. To become part of your pain.”

“But the way you looked at me gave me false hope.”

“Okay, fine.” He frowned, steadied his fork. “You want the whole truth? I wanted to heal you, to sweep you into my world and make you mine. But the idea of losing you scared me. I knew you wouldn’t stay in Texas.”

Her breath went still; her mind went into its Ph.D. mode. “Who abandoned you, Ethan? Who was I representing?”

“No one. Christ Almighty.” He cursed under his breath, then looked up, apologizing, it seemed, to the Man above. “Does everything we do have to be dissected? Analyzed? Chewed up and spit out?”

Guilty as charged, she thought.

“Besides,” he went on, “now that we’re older, I’ve been chasing you like a rutting bull. I think that makes us even.”

She looked into his eyes and saw his pain, the rejection she was causing. “I’m sorry. But now it’s my turn to be afraid. To be wary of an attachment.”

“Maybe I can teach you how to get over it.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Some things aren’t meant to last. Sometimes we have to take life as it comes.”

He was right. But he was wrong, too. Sometimes people had to protect their hearts. “I don’t have affairs anymore. Not without some sort of commitment.”

“Does it have to be a long-term commitment?”