Suddenly Home

And maybe, just maybe, it was the look in her eyes that said even something as insignificant as cat scratches were important…because he was important.

Right here, right now, Alex thought he could look into her pretty face forever. If only—

“You were the answer to a prayer,” she said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Who? Me?”

She tossed the swab into the trash can and recapped the brown peroxide bottle. And pressing one small hand against her chest, Taylor sighed. “I’d been up there…”

She closed her eyes, and when she did, Alex felt as if someone had turned off the sun.

“I don’t know how long I’d been up there,” she finished, eyes wide again. “Seemed like forever!”

Alex said a silent prayer of thanks heavenward, amazed, because he hadn’t asked God for diddly in who knew how long, yet he’d asked Him to make Taylor open her eyes. He was even more amazed at the rush of warmth he felt swirling around inside his chest when she did.

“If I’d been up there another minute,” she said, laughing, “you’d probably have had two people to rescue.”

He could think of worse things than having a woman like this beholden to him for rescuing her. Because a woman like this—

Barney sauntered through the room just then, stopping only long enough to give both Alex and Taylor a look that said, “Who are you calling people?”

Laughing, Taylor added, “Well, you would’ve had two somethings to rescue.”

He was about to say she was as far from a “thing” as a woman could get when she said, “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

You’re a magnet, he thought, and my innards seem to be made of iron ore. “You left the church brunch just like that—” he snapped his fingers “—without a word.” He was beginning to sound to himself like a guy who’d fallen head over heels. Couldn’t have her thinking that, he decided. And so Alex gave a nonchalant shrug. “Just checking, makin’ sure you’re okay, is all.”

She laid a hand on the shoulder he’d shrugged. “Thanks, Alex.” And her voice was sweeter than honey when she added, “That was really nice of you.” Then, as if she thought maybe she sounded like someone who’d fallen head over heels, she spread her arms wide. “Well, as you can see, I’m fine.”

You can say that again, he thought. But “I’m glad” is what he said.

She clasped both hands in front of her. Small gesture, really, and yet because it seemed sweet and old-fashioned and feminine all rolled into one, it made his heart pound.

One hand on the refrigerator door handle, Taylor said, “Would you like a soda? Coffee? Tea?”

He chuckled, relieved to have something to focus on besides her dainty hands, her gorgeous eyes. “You sound like the stewardess on our flight back from Ireland.”

“Flight attendant,” she chided good-naturedly, her fore-finger moving like a silent metronome. “You don’t want a ticket from the Politically Correct Police, now, do you?”

Alex slapped himself in the forehead. His intended “Wash my mouth out with soap” was replaced by a “Yeee-ouch!” inspired when he hit one of the still-smarting cat scratches.

She was beside him in an instant, hands fluttering around his wounded face, a worried frown on her own. “Oh, no…you’ve got this one bleeding again.” Taylor grabbed the bottle of antiseptic, slid open the box of cotton swabs. “You really ought to be more gentle with yourself,” she scolded softly, daubing the open wound.

She was near enough to kiss, and it took every ounce of self-control he could muster to keep from doing just that. Would her lips feel as soft as they looked? Would those big eyes grow misty, or would she close them and—

“Just because you’re a big burly man,” she continued, “doesn’t mean you have to be so rough with yourself, you know.”

Alex swallowed. He didn’t know why her innocent comment struck a nerve. But it did. No one had ever been so tender with him. Why, if he didn’t know better, he’d have to say Taylor believed he was capable of breaking.

An ugly thought surfaced in his mind.

The accident had all but broken him, physically. But how could she have known that the aftereffects of it had all but shattered his spirit, when they’d spent no more than fifteen minutes, total, in one another’s company?

He needed to get out of this place, away from this woman. He had no business feeling drawn to her, not this soon, maybe not at all, ever. It was a good idea, this plan of his to heal on his own, alone. Because alone, he could think. Could reason things out. No way he could do that with her standing there looking at him like some kind of guardian angel.

Getting to his feet, Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Well, thanks for—”

“No,” she interrupted, “I’m the one who’s supposed to say thanks. You saved Barney, and very likely me, too.” She was smiling prettily when she added, “You’re our hero!”

He felt the heat of a blush creep into his cheeks. Hero? If only you knew, he thought glumly. “Well, guess I’d better get on my way.” He forced a grin. “You stay off rooftops now, y’hear?”

Standing at attention, she formed two fingers of her right hand into the Girl Scout salute. “Promise. Once I get that screen back into place, I won’t be going near any second-story openings any time in the near future.”

“Screen?”

She nodded. “That’s how Barney got onto the roof in the first place. He fiddled with the latches and the screen fell out onto the roof, and…”

Bobbing her head left and right, Taylor clamped her hands together. “I feel ridiculous, being so afraid of high places. Especially since I have no real reason to be afraid of—”

“Why should you feel ridiculous?” He didn’t know why, but Alex felt an overwhelming need to defend her. Careful, he warned himself, careful….

“Oh, I don’t know,” she began softly.

He’d never been afraid of heights. And frankly, he didn’t understand people who were. Wasn’t afraid of much, and never had been, for that matter. Fat lot of good your so-called bravado did you over the Caribbean, came his angry thought.

“I guess,” she continued, “I guess it’s embarrassing because people, well, you know, they tend to think if they aren’t afraid of something, no one else should be, either.”

Alex searched for something to say. Something that would comfort and reassure her. “Lots of people have a fear of heights.”

It was a lame thing to say, and he knew it. He thought she knew it, too. Why else had she sighed and shrugged and looked away?

What business did she have, looking so gorgeous and womanly and…and sad? Didn’t she realize what it was doing to him? How was he supposed to make a quick getaway, keep an arm’s-length emotional distance, with her standing there, in reach, looking like…like that?

He wanted to wrap his arms around her. Promise that nothing would ever scare her again—at least, not while he was around to prevent it. Wanted to kiss her, to prove how much he meant it.

Alex cleared his throat. You’re outta your ever-lovin’ mind, Van Buren. “Which window?”

“The one in my room.”

Great, he thought. Just what he needed. More information to make him want her in his life. Ruffled curtains, probably, and pink stuff sitting on lacy doilies. “Show me. I’ll put the screen back into place for you.” It was the least he could do. And then he’d make tracks, fast.

Taylor led him upstairs and down the hall, then pointed. “You’re a peach to do this.” Her lopsided smile became a full grin. “You don’t know how much I was dreading going out there to fetch the screen.” Laughing, she added, “I was seriously considering closing the window and praying for a strong wind to blow it off the roof.”

Alex realized the moment he poked his head through the opening that she’d never have been able to reach the screen from inside. Tiny as she was, she’d have been forced to climb outside, onto the roof, to get it. Wouldn’t have been easy, considering how she felt about being up so high. But something told him she would have forced herself to do it anyway.

Gritting his teeth, he realized which of the two of them was most brave. He leaned through the opening, stuck his arm out and took hold of the screen. No big deal for someone who didn’t mind heights. But she’d gone out there to save her cat, despite her terror.

Once he’d snapped it into place, Alex said, “Do you have a wrench?”

“Sure. But what do you need with a wrench?”

He wished she wouldn’t stand there like that, looking up at him with those big, long-lashed eyes. Being near her was having a peculiar effect on his nervous system. Alex didn’t remember feeling this fidgety around a woman before. Didn’t remember feeling this fidgety, period.

“Well,” he explained, “if I tighten these wing nuts that’re holding it in place, Barney won’t be able to work them loose next time he has a notion to sunbathe on the roof.”

The luscious pink lips parted, no doubt to ask him how he expected her to take the screen out again, should the need arise. His heartbeat doubled as he remembered that moments ago he’d wanted to kiss her. Remembered that he’d pretty much wanted that from the first moment he set foot in her foyer for the suitcase exchange. But he’d never wanted it more than right now.

Alex swallowed. “If you ever want to remove the screen for any reason,” he answered her unasked question, “you can always loosen the nuts…with the wrench.”

She smiled. “Makes sense to me,” she said, and dashed down the stairs.

“Good. Something around here oughta make sense,” he said when she was out of earshot.

Barney paraded into the room just then, tail twitching left and right as he eyed the open window.

Alex narrowed his eyes and shot him a warning look. “Don’t even think about it, buddy.”

The cat shot him a look that said, “The name’s Barney, buddy.” Then, purring, he twined a figure eight around Alex’s ankles.

Crouching, Alex patted the cat’s head. When he noticed the gouges on the back of his hand, he was reminded of the crisscrossing scratches on his face. “I have a feeling I’ll be thinking of you when I shave tomorrow morning,” he said. “When I shave for the next week.”

He’d be thinking of Barney’s mistress, too. Probably for a whole lot longer than a week. The thought almost made him wish he hadn’t decided to keep a safe distance from this churchgoing little woman.

Taylor burst into the room just then, carrying a pink metal toolbox. “Don’t laugh,” she said, plunking it down on the hardwood floor. “I bought it at a yard sale couple years back. Only cost me fifty cents, but it was all dirty and rusty, and the only spray paint on sale at Clark’s Hardware that day was—” she extended both hands, like one of the models who present the prizes on a game show “—pink!”

It just so happened she was wearing a pink blouse. And pink fingernail polish. The excitement of Barney’s adventure had colored her cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and those luscious lips of hers, well, they were pink, too. Alex had a notion to tell her pink was her color. Instead, he opened the toolbox and poked around inside until he found an adjustable crescent wrench.

As he was busy tightening the screen’s wing nuts, he heard her clear her throat. She was near enough to touch. Again. Right there beside his left elbow. If he turned, just slightly, he could slide an arm around her waist, ease her to him and—

“So, did you enjoy the brunch?” she asked.

Alex had to blink to get his brain back on track. Oh. Right. The brunch. Well, yes, he supposed he’d enjoyed it well enough. At least, he’d enjoyed every moment he’d spent with her…. “Food was good,” he said, hoping to sound noncommittal. But that was all he intended to admit.

She laughed. “The ladies of Resurrection outdo themselves every time there’s an event.” Then, “Did you know there’s going to be another next Wednesday?”

She hesitated, and he knew she intended to invite him to it.

Knew, just as well, that he had every reason to say no.

For one thing, what did they have in common? And even if he could find something the two of them could share, he had way too many “issues” left over from the accident. Wouldn’t be fair to haul her through that mess.

Crouching, Alex put the wrench back into the toolbox and fastened its lid. On his feet again, he decided to tell her that he’d sworn off church. Sworn off everything—and everyone—connected to it. She needed to hear that, because he had a feeling she put the D in devout. Besides, he liked his women tall and lithe and blond and blue-eyed, right? Wouldn’t be fair to mislead her, not in any way. And he had to find a way to get the words out before she asked him to be her guest.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to come,” she asked, as if on cue, “as my guest?”

Sunlight glinted from her hair. Hair he wanted to touch, to find out if it felt as soft, as silky as it looked. And there, in the bright light, it was impossible not to notice the pale freckles that dotted her nose, that sprinkled across her ivory cheeks. He wanted to touch those, too. Each and every one of them…with gentle kisses.

Watch it, he warned himself, this one isn’t like the others, not in any way. And that meant trouble. Reminding himself he had neither the time nor the inclination for romance, Alex straightened, squared his shoulders, lifted his chin a notch. Tell her no, was the thought pinging in his head. Say, Sorry, but I have stuff to do that night.

Hands deep in his pockets, he glanced at slightly parted, kissable pink lips, looked into her eyes. Into her big, long-lashed, brownish-greenish-golden eyes and said, “Only if they’re serving potato salad.”

Chapter Three

Until he’d looked up and seen her there on the roof, Alex had never seen much farther than the end of his own nose. Especially when it came to the needs of others. Especially since the accident.

Oh, he’d done the typical favors for friends and acquaintances, like helping them move from apartments into homes when he wasn’t on assignment, letting them use his pickup when he was. Once, when he was stationed in Florida, his next-door neighbor won a trip to the Bahamas. It was Alex who, twice a day, let himself into her apartment to feed her cat. While living in California, he watered a neighbor’s roses rather than see the elderly gent’s rose club registration fee—and the work he’d put into the roses to that point—go to waste.

He’d never minded doing the favors. Hadn’t felt imposed upon by the neighbors who’d asked them of him. But suddenly there was a nagging question in his mind, one Alex doubted he would have asked himself if he hadn’t met Taylor.

Would he have volunteered his help if that help hadn’t been requested?

He was ashamed to admit the answer was no.

Wouldn’t have been hard to admit if the answer had been the result of a hectic schedule. Truth was, he’d simply never thought to offer. And what kind of person did that make him?

Not the kind who deserved a woman like Taylor Griffith….

He shifted uncomfortably in his easy chair, remote control in hand. As the colorful, musical images of TV chefs and sports figures and rumpled detectives whizzed by on the screen, Alex scowled. Shouldn’t have agreed to that date, he grumbled inwardly. Only thing you have in common with that woman is…

As he gave it a moment’s thought, his thumb relaxed on the up button. A home shopping host held up a glittering half-carat diamond. The glint and glow of the stone reminded him of Taylor, each spark, each glimmer illuminating yet another facet of her character. The longer he knew her, the more she seemed to shine.

Compared to her, he felt like a chunk of wet chalk.

Somehow, that didn’t seem to matter. Whether or not they had anything in common made no difference, either. He liked her. Had, the instant he set eyes on her in that overcrowded plane, liked her more still when they made the suitcase exchange in the tiny foyer of her house. The church brunch, her tender loving care after the cat rescue…every minute in her company was incentive enough to want to spend hours, weeks, months with her.

Alex slumped into his chair, telling himself it was boredom, restlessness, frustration with his life that made him think he was falling for this near stranger. Clapping a hand over his face, he closed his eyes to block the TV’s flickering light.

“Shouldn’t have said yes to the date,” he muttered sleepily. He didn’t fight the drowsiness. Maybe sleep would provide a haven from the unsettling feelings Taylor had aroused in him….

Now that she knew what caused his limp, Taylor had to warn herself to be careful. She’d always been a sucker for someone in pain, whether physical or emotional—it’s how she’d gotten in over her head with Kent—and Alex Van Buren seemed to have suffered his share of pain and agony, especially lately.

She got a mental picture of him, outfitted in a flight suit, standing beside a fast-flying fighter plane, smiling with the knowledge that he did heroic things every time he snapped the bubble canopy shut overhead.

And he was a hero, no doubt about that.

When Taylor heard about his past, she made it her business to learn more about the accident. An article, buried among reams of information she dug up on the Internet, explained how his F-16 Fighting Falcon had been struck by lightning, causing a complete shutdown of the controls. The plane was one of the manufacturer’s latest releases, designed to go farther and faster than any F-16 before it. The test Alex had been performing the day of his crash involved the new agile beam radar and state-of-the-art mission computer. Equipped with bigger fuel tanks to ensure greater range, the fighter was, in Taylor’s layman’s opinion, an explosion waiting to happen. It was a miracle that Alex had survived.

And she thanked God that he had.

Everything about him brought out the protector in her, starting with the limp…and every masculine emotion that made him try so desperately to hide it. The urge to care for him had swelled up as she’d swabbed the cuts and scrapes put there when he caught Barney. But that hadn’t been the first or the only time she’d felt it.

Before she’d even known his name, Taylor had wanted to comfort him as he hobbled past her in the big tube connecting their jetliner to the airport terminal. The feeling had bubbled up again when he left her house that day, limping more because of the weight of his big, bulky suitcase.

One look into his dark, shining eyes was all it took to tell her that something good, something decent lived inside this man. Oh, he did his best to hide it behind a practiced smile and well-timed jokes, but Taylor sensed it all the same. Not such an easy feat when she admitted seeing the same things in the mirror.

Taylor snapped on the light beside her recliner, intent upon reading Sunday’s newspaper, cover to cover. She’d made it to the food section when the phone rang, startling her so badly she nearly overturned her teacup.

“Hello?”

“Taylor. It’s Alex. Calling about the, ah, that church thing you were telling me about?”

Taylor squeezed her eyes shut. Please, God, she prayed, don’t let him back out. It was a foolish prayer that made her feel like a schoolgirl in the throes of a silly crush. That didn’t make it any less heartfelt.

“Don’t tell me you’re calling to cancel,” she blurted out. As if the action might help her stuff the words back into her mouth, Taylor pressed her fingertips to her lips.

After a slight pause, she heard him clear his throat. Already she’d decided it was something he did when uncomfortable, uneasy, uncertain. Oh, fine, she scolded herself. Now you’ve gone and done it!

He’d see her as that silly schoolgirl now. And what did a man like that, who’d risked life and limb for his country, want with a—

“No,” came his calm, masculine voice, “I was actually calling to find out if we’re supposed to meet at Resurrection, or if I should pick you up.”

Taylor blinked. Swallowed. “Well, I hadn’t really—”

“Because if it’s up to me,” he continued, “I’d prefer coming to get you.”

Brows high on her forehead, she felt herself smile. Really? she thought.

“If you have something to do, I’ll understand….”

“Do?”

“I know you’re pretty heavily involved over there at the, uh, at the church. I just thought maybe you had, um, stuff to set up or something.”

She hoped her laughter wouldn’t sound too relieved. “No. In fact, I’m not even on the cleanup committee this time.”

Yet the minute the words were out, Taylor regretted them. Would he take it to mean she expected to be invited out afterward? For ice cream, or a walk in the park? For a glass of lemonade or a stroll along Main Street?

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.