Secrets in Summer(77)
“Really, Boyz. I have no idea what you’re going on about.”
“Well, first of all, I need you to know I care about Willow. She’s my stepdaughter. I don’t like her used to get to me. Second, if you’d like to join me in bed for old time’s sake, I’d be up for that.” Another grin. “Really up.”
Darcy was horrified. “Are you saying you think I’m friendly with Willow so that I can get you to notice me, to have sex with me? Boyz, that’s over-the-top vain, even for you!”
Boyz continued to smile. He was almost leering at her.
“Darcy. Honey. Don’t try to pretend. You and I had some pretty sweet times together. And I want you to know I still consider you a beautiful woman.”
“Boyz. Listen to me. I have no interest in you at all. Really. Truly.”
Boyz tilted his head and dimmed the wattage of his smile. “So why are you hanging out with Willow?”
“Because she’s wonderful!” Darcy was so angry and insulted on Willow’s behalf she wanted to punch her ex-husband. “And I’m not ‘hanging out’ with her! Willow helps at the library, she’s great with the little kids during story hour. She reads to Mimi Rush who lives next door and is eighty-nine years old and has bad eyes. She’s babysitting Susan Brueckner’s three boys during the week—when you’re in Boston. She’s a sweet, intelligent girl and if I see more of her than you do, it’s not my fault, it’s yours!”
“Oh, Darcy,” Boyz said softly. “If that’s all true, why aren’t you involving Autumn in these arrangements? Autumn is her mother, after all.”
Darcy bit her lips. She could tell Boyz exactly what Autumn was up to with Otto Brueckner, but maybe she was wrong, and she didn’t want to be vindictive and it wasn’t relevant anyway. “I’ve discussed all this with Autumn. I phoned her several weeks ago to invite her to join us. Autumn declined. She wants Willow to have her own group, away from her mother. She told me I didn’t need to contact her all the time. She trusts Willow when she’s with me, with us.” Angry, Darcy demanded, “Don’t you even talk to your wife?”
She’d taken one step too far. She’d embarrassed Boyz. His face went red. Gone was his seductive tone. Now he wanted to hurt. “Whatever. The point I’m trying to make here is that Autumn is Willow’s mother. You are not, and you’ve got to stop pretending you are. I sincerely hope you’ll have a child of your own someday, but until then, hands off Willow. Okay?”
“Boyz.” Darcy was embarrassed to see her hands were trembling. She rose. “I think you’d better leave.”
Like a chameleon, Boyz switched back into his charming self. He stood, walked close to Darcy, his pale blue eyes warm with affection. “Darcy. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. Come here. Let me make it all better.”
Before she could react, Boyz had taken her in his arms and kissed her.
Her body hit her with a whirlwind of memory. The way he cupped her head in his left hand while pressing his right hand on her hip, moving toward him and his erection. The way his lips felt, even the scent of his breath—coffee and a tang of Listerine, because Boyz always kept small bottles of Listerine around so he’d have clean breath when he spoke to his clients. It amused her that he’d used it this morning before coming to see her, and she smiled at the thought, right in the middle of his passionate kiss, and then pulled away from her ex-husband’s arms.
“Boyz, go home. I don’t want this. Try to believe for once in your life that one woman in the world is not infatuated with you. That would be me.”
Boyz dropped his arms. He stepped back. But he kept his eyes on Darcy. “You know, Darcy, if we do—enjoy ourselves together—I would keep it all secret from Autumn and Willow.”
Darcy laughed. “Well, I have to say I’m well aware that you can keep your affairs secret.”
“Ah,” Boyz said softly, nodding his head and creasing his forehead in an expression of sympathy. “Of course, you’re still hurt over catching me with Autumn.”
Darcy began, “Honestly, Boyz, I’m not—”
“Then why aren’t you married? It’s been three years.” Boyz couldn’t keep back a look of satisfaction at a shot well placed.
“Look, Boyz, I have a lovely boyfriend. You don’t need to know anything about me. Please, just go home.” Darcy turned her back on him and walked away before he could speak again.
She opened the front door. She stood next to it, unsmiling, arms crossed over her chest, like a matron in a reform school.