“Precisely.” Dustin spread out his hands in front of her.
“What are your plans?”
He combed his fingers through his hair. Dark, thick curls that almost reached his collar. His hair would feel…no, she didn’t want to think what his hair was like. One more facet of Dustin she remembered all too well. That and the way he had of wearing a T-shirt that made the material seem worth noticing. And now, worth touching.
The outline of his chest and torso pushed against the light gray cotton fabric. No longer was he a long and lean, easy-smiling teenage boy. At this moment, he was a man who looked as though he took what he wanted.
“I don’t know if I want to fit in a business world that takes and takes without feeling guilty that someone is starving or homeless.” He shifted position, leaning up against her rental car, and crossed his ankles. His arms had filled out, impressive and muscular, confirming what she’d believed last night. He wore black motorcycle boots and jeans in a way that definitely should come with a warning label for onlookers.
She swallowed several times after her eyes passed over the bulge in his pants. She wanted to know what he thought of her, how she’d changed, and if he was attracted. Was she losing it? This line of thinking was getting out of hand.
“Do you want to come in?” She prayed he’d decline.
If he was still interested in Fran, she’d just be a substitute. She’d almost become one once, long ago when she’d experienced the longing in his eyes, the feel of his hands, and that one, sweet, delicious kiss from his lips.
Fran had stopped all that when she’d announced that Dustin was her official boyfriend. Confused and hurt, there was nothing Claire could do. She’d accepted Dustin and her sister as a couple. He’d shut her off, basically refusing even to acknowledge her existence. That’s when she’d lost herself in writing.
Claire had refused to stay brokenhearted and had turned her sights to leaving Mill Spring and getting into Berkeley. She wasn’t about to be some character in an eighteenth-century melodrama, sitting and pining over a man who was already taken. She didn’t just sit in her room. She had plenty of offers for weekend dates in school.
She wore her blond hair long and straight, the same as Fran. Only her sister changed hers after she and Dustin were a couple, refusing to keep up the twin image. Fran made it clear; she no longer wanted to look like any sort of replica.
He extended his hand again. She hesitated and then placed her hand over his. Their skin touched, and a tingling sensation snapped through her. His eyes widened, confirming she wasn’t the only recipient of the electrical jolt. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome. Maybe I’ll stop over later and see if you need any help. Think you’ll sell the house?”
“I don’t know. That would be hard to envision.” Her heartbeat hammered out an SOS rhythm. Oh, heavens. She held onto his hand, riding on a river that threatened to overtake her senses.
For a computer engineer, his hands were not office soft. She moved closer to his body. His light green eyes stared into hers. His eyes were the color of the meadows that surrounded their homes. His face was slightly sunburned on top of his tan. His lips were generous and his jawline strong.
He smiled. Perfect; worth the wait, the critic admitted. Maybe she should write commercials.
Chapter Five
Dustin looked down into her face, into her all too familiar eyes. Wide, clear eyes almost aqua in the early morning light and the color of the Caribbean Sea he’d visited last summer.
“Let me know what I can do to help.”
“Yes, as soon as I speak with Bob. My appointment is at ten-thirty. Not too long from now.”
“Do you want me to drive you?”
“I couldn’t ask. No, I’ll be fine. But thank you.”
Clair stood before him, a questioning expression in her eyes. She ran her hand over her hair. His mind went blank, filled with a buzz saw nervousness that erased any idea of what to say to keep her from going inside. She needed time to adjust to losing her parents. He held her hand and wanted to draw her closer, wrap his arms around her shoulders.
“Well, please don’t hesitate to let me help. In the smallest way. I’m just next door.”
Clair was so strong, not giving into crying even when her eyes filled with tears, not her. He sighed and released her hand. She smiled shyly and walked toward the porch.
Claire was never one for outward emotions. Her ideas ran deep, that much he was certain. She looked nearly the same, no different than the day he’d last seen her. He longed to reach out and touch the blond hair that hung down her back. She was all angles from her high cheekbones to her long slender legs. Damn, he barely could contain himself from staring at her as she exited her car.