A Glimpse of Fire Page 15

  “No, I assure you, you don’t get it. Hell, I don’t totally get it.” She bit her lower lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

  He remained silent for several moments, not sure what to say. He really didn’t know this woman. Not the way he wanted to. All he could do was change the subject. “This garden is something. It’s been so damn hot the last couple of weeks, I’m surprised these roses held up.”

  She smiled as if she knew he had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe roses liked the heat. What the hell did he know about flowers or gardens? Not a Pittsburgh boy like him.

  Dallas leaned against him, and they looked out over the mass of roses and ivy and some other little white flowers he didn’t recognize—miniature roses maybe. Clinging to a vine, they climbed over the top layer of a white flagstone fountain nestled in the corner.

  She breathed in the heady scent. “They are beautiful. Remind me to snitch a few before we leave. Look, those are the salmon-colored ones Dakota was talking about. I’m definitely swiping one of those.”

  He slid an arm around her shoulders. “Your mom doesn’t seem like the type to garden. Of course, she doesn’t seem like a biology teacher either.”

  “Don’t let her hear you refer to her as a ‘teacher.’”

  “Excuse me. Professor.”

  Dallas laughed softly. “That woman hasn’t seen the inside of a classroom in years. She’s the head of research.”

  “Ah, that I can see.”

  “As far as gardening, the closest she comes is putting on a hat and sunglasses to come out and supervise their gardener.”

  He grinned. “Gotta admit, that would be my idea of gardening.”

  Her lips curved in a grudging smile. “Okay, I’ll concede that one.”

  The lights came on, and Dallas jumped a little. He held her tighter, inhaling the vanilla scent from her hair. Man, what he wouldn’t give to lay her down right here, in the middle of all those roses. Naked.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, looking up at him, a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth.

  “Why?”

  “You started breathing hard.”

  He laughed. “You don’t want to know.”

  Her eyebrows went up, and she drew the tip of her finger across his lower lip. “Try me.”

  After glancing over his shoulder, he whispered, “What time do they go to bed?”

  That startled a loud laugh out of her, and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Not here. Not in this lifetime. I’d rather run naked around Columbus Circle.”

  “Hmm, that has possibilities.”

  She bumped him with her hip. “The lights make the garden look almost magical, don’t they?”

  “So, you’re not going for it, huh?”

  “You are crazy.” She bumped him again, which wasn’t helping to sidetrack him. “Now, can we please enjoy the moment? Eventually we do have to go back to the patio.”

  “We do?’

  She turned to look at him.

  “Only kidding.”

  “No, you’re not. But that’s okay.” Something caught her attention and she squinted. “Looks like there’s an opening in the wall.”

  “An opening?”

  “Yeah, see where some of the bricks have crumbled. We could be out of here before they knew we were gone.”

  He laughed. “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Bet me.”

  “No, because then you’ll do it.” He turned her to face him. “You’d make me look bad to your parents.”

  “Why would you care?”

  Eric brushed the side of her jaw, liking the silky feel of her skin. Remembering how soft her back was, the inside of her thighs, her perfect breasts. “I plan on sticking around for a while. That’s why.”

  “A while, huh?”

  “A long while.”

  “We’ll see,” she murmured just before he kissed her.

  At least, that’s what he thought he heard. But it made no sense. Unless she figured he wasn’t a commitment kind of guy. The only way she could have arrived at that was by Tom.

  He pulled back. The mood was ruined. “What do you mean by that?”

  She slowly opened her eyes. “What?”

  “You don’t think we have something going on here.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “What did Tom tell you?”

  She looked as if she were about to deny Tom’s duplicity, but then she sighed and said, “Just enough for me to feel safe showing up at the party.”

  “Okay.” He smiled. “That’s progress. Now I know I’m not crazy.”

  She didn’t return the smile but moved away and drained the rest of her wine. “We’d better go back. The sooner we eat dinner, the sooner we can leave.”

  He didn’t like her attitude. Textbook passive-aggressive behavior. “Sorry if I ruined your fun.”

  She touched his arm, and when her lips lifted, it was in such a sad smile that he softened. “It was a mistake to bring you here. I’m sorry.”

  “Why was it a mistake?”

  Her brows lifted in surprise, and then she gave a helpless shrug. “My mother— I have too many issues with her. I think each time I come home it will be different, but it never is.”

  “Turn around.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He took her by the shoulders and prodded her into giving him her back. “You’re tense,” he said as he started massaging the tight muscles around her neck.

  “No kidding.”

  Eric smiled. “We’ll get you to relax.”

  “Good luck.” She sighed and then moaned a little when he worked on a particularly tight knot. “She irritates me just being in the same vicinity. She could be somewhere in the house and I have no idea what she’s doing and she still irritates me.”

  He chuckled and kept working. She was tight, all right. Tomorrow he’d treat her to a professional massage. The new Hush Hotel had a couples’ massage that was supposed to be pretty awesome. He’d have to call and see if you needed to be a registered guest to use the service.

  “It’s not her fault. In fact, some of it’s mine. I totally get that, in spite of all my childish carrying on.” She laughed softly. “I’m her daughter and she wants what’s best for me. The problem is, what she thinks is best, I don’t.”

  “Gee, never heard that one before.”

  She hooked her arm around and pinched his waist.

  “Hey, no manhandling the masseur.”

  “Like you’d be so lucky.”

  “Good point.” He hesitated. She was starting to relax, and he didn’t want to stir things up. But he’d have to know sooner or later if modeling was one of the issues that polarized them. Selfishly, later was out. Once back at his place, he didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up Horn. “I have a question.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Does your mother object to your modeling?”

  “No. But, of course, I really don’t model anymore. But she’s never had a problem with it as long as it’s tasteful. Even Dakota did some modeling for a couple of local stores while she was in college.”

  Relief washed over him.

  “Now, if either of us had decided we wanted to model and skip college, that would have been a major problem.”

  “Understandable. Only a few models make really good money. Unfortunately it isn’t as glamorous as it looks, and their shelf life is shorter than a jar of peanut butter.”

  “Amen. That’s why I quit.”

  Eric had to tamp down his excitement. None of those problems were attached to Horn’s contract.

  She sighed and covered one of his hands with hers. “As wonderful as this has been, I think it’s time to go back.”

  “To Manhattan?” he joked.

  “I wish. To the lion’s den.”

  15

  TILLY ANNOUNCED THAT DINNER was going to be ready in ten minutes. Dallas knew her mother wouldn’t be content to stay out of the final preparations, and when, true t
o form, she headed for the kitchen, Dallas followed.

  She’d actually thought tonight might work out. She’d psyched herself up for two days, telling herself it would be okay to bring Eric. The conversation would remain neutral because she’d received her mother’s reassurance that she’d make nice.

  Clair’s presence changed everything. Damn it. It blew all illusion of control.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Cody was bringing someone?” she asked as soon as they were in private. Tilly was there, of course, standing at the butcher-block island, tossing some field greens in a glass bowl, but Dallas trusted her implicitly.

  “I’m not sure I knew when you called.” After setting her wineglass on the granite counter, Andrea picked up a fork Tilly had left beside the stove and stuck it in the rib roast. She made a face. “Tilly, are you sure this is done enough? It looks awfully rare.”

  Tilly grabbed the fork from her and waved her away. “Go back to your guests and let me handle dinner. The meat is still cooking while it rests. In ten minutes it’ll be just the way you like it.” Tilly winked at Dallas.

  They must have had this conversation twenty times in as many years. But Andrea always had to stick her nose in things.

  “Dallas, bring out your grandmother’s silver tureen,” her mother said. “I think we’ll serve the consommé from the table instead of bringing it to the dining room in individual bowls.”

  “No, we’re not. I have everything set out already.” Tilly looked at Dallas. “Would you please get your mother out of here?”

  “Really, Tilly, I’m only trying to help.” Andrea grabbed her drink off the counter and turned to leave in a huff. Amazing how Tilly was the only one who could get away with speaking to her like that. Dallas never could figure it out. Not even her father dared being that high-handed—not overtly, anyway.

  “Wait, Mother.”

  She stopped and looked impatiently at Dallas.

  “I want tonight to go smoothly, okay?” Dallas said slowly, enunciating every word.

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “Please, Mother, keep your promise that you won’t manipulate the conversation as a means of attacking my job. Am I clear?”

  “Everything isn’t about you. You’re old enough to know that.”

  Dallas shook her head. “I wish you understood that. Why you have to keep—” Dallas stopped herself. This wasn’t going anywhere. It never did. “Never mind.”

  Her mother blinked, and something changed in her expression. Regret flickered in her eyes. “I know you think I ride you too hard, that I meddle too much. But you’re so damn smart, Dallas, what kind of mother would I be if I let you slide in life?”

  “You’re right. I think you push too hard.”

  “I probably do. Your father and I have always been proud of all three of you kids. But you were always the brightest, the one with the most potential.”

  Dallas stared in disbelief. For years she’d felt like the runt of the litter. The one who’d always disappointed them.

  “Someday when you’re a mother maybe you’ll understand.” She touched Dallas’s arm in an uncharacteristic gesture of concern, and Dallas’s defenses began to crumble. “I’m glad to see you brought a decent man with you.”

  Just like that, the forgiving mood was shot to hell. “A man who gets his hands dirty making a living can be just as decent.”

  Andrea huffed. “You know what I mean. Must you take everything wrong?”

  “As long as you keep giving me ammunition.” Dallas exhaled and sheepishly met her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t want to argue.”

  Andrea looked at her a long, silent moment and then sighed. “Well, as you’ve often pointed out, what you do for a living is your business. I am curious, though, what does Eric think about it?”

  Dallas hesitated. The question had taken her aback. She swallowed, tried to come up with a flip remark and couldn’t.

  Her mother stared with open curiosity, and then a slow, amused smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

  Dallas stiffened. God, all she wanted to do was leave. Right now. Get back to Manhattan. To Eric’s apartment, where anything seemed possible.

  The pity that entered her mother’s eyes was almost more than Dallas could take. “If you’re too embarrassed to tell him,” she said gently, “then, honey, you’ve got a lot to think about.”

  DURING DINNER THE CONVERSATION centered mostly on a volatile court case that was in the news but to which none of the Shea legal eagles had any affiliation. Lots of opinions, though. Which made for a lively discussion.

  These were the times that Dallas missed. When she was in high school and her friends would come over for dinner, they were always surprised. The expectation was that dinner at the Sheas’ would be a quiet, dignified affair. Rarely was that the case.

  Since Dallas had little opinion on the subject and wasn’t about to get into another debate with Cody over justification of the death penalty, she got up to help Tilly with dessert. Deeply involved in the conversation, Eric glanced at her and smiled before returning another of Cody’s volleys. He looked as if he were actually enjoying himself, and even her brother seemed more animated and taking great pleasure in the challenging arguments Eric presented.

  This time she didn’t have to ask Dakota to babysit Eric in her absence. Not just because the conversational tide was unlikely to change but because she knew her mother would derail any personal talk of Dallas.

  Odd, really, that she’d consider her mother an ally. But she’d been more subdued during the meal, sitting quietly and thoughtfully, sometimes glancing at Dallas and giving her an encouraging smile. Weird. Totally weird. But there it was.

  She carried two stacks of dirty dinner dishes into the kitchen with her and placed them in the sink. Tilly was making coffee and she turned around when she heard Dallas.

  “Leave those,” she said. “I’ll load the dishwasher while you eat dessert.”

  “I have a better idea.” Dallas turned on the water to rinse the plates. “Eat dessert with us.”

  “I’m watching my sugar.”

  “Then have fruit. You’re part of the family. You should be eating with us.” Dallas looked around, suddenly interested in what Tilly had made, and spotted the apple-caramel pie. Oh, God. Not good. Dallas’s favorite. She could eat the whole thing.

  “You sound like your mother. Like I’ve told her many times, I eat my big meal in the middle of the day.”

  “I sound like my mother?” Dallas said, aware it sounded like an insult when Tilly slid her a disapproving frown.

  Snorting, Tilly wiped her hands on her apron and then opened the refrigerator and brought out a stainless-steel bowl of freshly whipped cream. “Yes, your mother. She always insists I eat with her and your father. And one of these days you’re going to realize how much you two are alike. No wonder you’re always butting heads like two bighorn sheep. I’ve never encountered two more stubborn women.”

  “That’s not true. Not about me, anyway.”

  Tilly gave her an amused look.

  “Just because I want to live my own life doesn’t make me stubborn.” Dallas stuck her finger in the bowl of whipped cream and got her hand slapped.

  “There’s living your own life and then there’s rubbing it in everyone’s face.”

  Dallas gasped. “I’ve never done that.”

  “No?”

  “Of course not.”

  The older woman smiled.

  “Tilly, come on, you’re making me feel awful.”

  “If it’s not true, there’s nothing to feel awful about.” She put an arm around Dallas’s waist and hugged her. “I love you. You three kids are like my own. I don’t like to see any of you hurting.”

  “I know, Tilly. I love you, too.” Dallas swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. She didn’t know what else to say. Tilly had always been fair and a straight talker. She wouldn’t purposely needle Dallas. The thought tha
t she’d disappointed the woman made Dallas ill.

  “All right.” She returned to the freshly brewed coffee and got out a silver carafe. “Get your fanny back into the dining room and take the dessert plates and the pie with you. I don’t trust you with the whipped cream. I’ll take that out myself, along with the coffee.”

  Glad to be back on playful ground, Dallas sniffed. “You don’t trust me?”

  “With my life? Yes. With whipped cream? No.” Tilly lightly smacked her on her backside. “Now get.”

  “All right already,” she said and grabbed the stack of plates.

  “Use a pot holder. The pie is still warm.”

  Tilly’s caramel-apple pie was to die for. But warm? Dallas sighed in anticipation. “Did I tell you how much I love you?”

  Tilly chuckled and winked. “My dear girl, I would bake you a pie anytime you wanted.”

  “I know.” Dallas had to shut up before she got all teary-eyed. It wasn’t even that time of the month. Why the hell was she feeling so emotional all of a sudden?

  She took a deep breath and then got out a tray, not trusting herself to carry both the pie and plates out to the dining room safely. After she’d carefully balanced her load, she picked up the tray and backed her way through the swinging door.

  She used her hip to keep the door open until she made it to the dining room on the other side. Just as she let go, her foot caught on the edge of the door. She stumbled forward and watched in horror as the pie flew off the tray and splattered across the hardwood floor.

  ADHERING TO HER WISHES, THE goodbyes were said inside. No more sympathetic looks, no more idiotic jokes, no annoying fanfare as they left the porch. Thank God.

  Dallas slid into the backseat of the car Eric had hired, and he climbed in beside her. She’d huddled closer to the opposite door, but he put an arm around her and drew her against him, to which she responded with mixed feelings. Part of her wanted to be left alone to wallow in self-pity, but the other part needed his soothing touch, needed the reassurance that he still wanted her.

  It wasn’t just about her clumsiness that had her fraying at the seams. Accidents happened. Of course, she wished she hadn’t totally ruined dessert, but hey…What bothered her more were the crazy thoughts running through her head. Ideas spawned by her mother and Tilly.