Twenty minutes later they were alone in the house.
"They hadn't planned to stay with Sam and Dana," Caryn said, as they stood in the foyer after saying goodbye. "Lyndsey saw us kissing, and decided after Kevin wasn't coming back to give us time alone."
"You think?" He figured as much, too. If he were the one in charge of pay raises, he would be lining Lyndsey up for one right now.
Caryn just stared at him.
He set his hands on her shoulders. "It doesn't mean anything has to happen, Mysterious. When you think about it, we hardly know each other." Yet he felt as though he'd known her for years. Go figure. Now that he stopped to consider it, it probably wasn't such a good idea, after all. "And tonight, of all nights," he added. "Maybe the timing's all wrong."
"We'll see how the evening goes," she said.
"Right."
The evening dragged. They finally had everything sorted. There wasn't a place to step that didn't have a piece of paper on it. It was time to start dumping. Box upon box was filled with never-to-be-needed-again bills and receipts. Warranties for long-ago-tossed appliances and tools were also dumped. A maybe box was started. A couple of keep boxes, too. At almost midnight Caryn pushed her hands against her lower back and straightened.
"No more," she said.
He nodded. "This is good. There's enough done that Kevin won't wonder how we spent the evening, and enough left for him to help finish up tomorrow."
"We're good."
He grinned.
"James, if Lyndsey is right, and Paul didn't owe that much money, what's the next step?"
"Find out who bilked you."
"You can do that?"
"Hope so."
"Do you think it's the same people who were watching you-or me-or whoever it was they were really watching?"
"Maybe."
"You're full of certainty, aren't you?"
"My job is to be right. Being right entails being cautious, so that the wrong people don't get tagged while the right ones get off."
She rubbed her temples. "You're right, of course. I just want it over and done."
He moved close to her and put his arms around her, drawing her near. He pushed the heels of his hands into her lower back. She groaned.
"This is harder than waitressing," she said.
"You're just used to your job. You've used different muscles today." He felt her relax against him, and he widened the area he rubbed, from her shoulders down to her tailbone. "I've got a spa tub."
"You do?"
"You're welcome to use it."
She said nothing.
"Alone," he added, in case that was worrying her. He figured she'd been direct about everything else. She'd be direct about this, too.
"What about after that?"
Her words were muffled by his chest, but he heard them. "Up to you, Caryn."
"You're not going to just take charge and let me off the hook?"
He wanted to. He'd rather they just be swept away, unable to stop themselves. But they were mature, responsible adults, capable of making rational decisions about sex. Ten years ago, hell, five years ago, he might have done as she said. But there was too much riding on this relationship not to think it through. They had a lifetime of contact ahead. As she said once, they would even be grandparents together.
Which was also why they needed to sleep together and get it over with now, before they made too much of it, before they made it too important. Do it now. End the curiosity. Become friends instead of lovers. Easy.
"I think I'll take you up on your offer," she said.
Which one?
"Any tricks to using the tub?" she asked.
"Fill the tub to a couple inches above the jets, then push the big chrome button. It'll stay on for ten minutes at a time."
She stepped away from him. "Where will you be?"
"Down here until I hear you head to your room."
"Okay. Thanks." She patted his cheek and left.
Bemused, he watched her go. Everyone had set them up for a night of unbridled, uninhibited, uninterrupted sex.
And she was going to sleep.
The phone rang. It was the police, and, for once, it was good news.
Fourteen
Caryn couldn't understand how she could come out of a long, relaxing soak amid a profusion of soothing, bubbling jets and be more tense than when she stepped in. She should have been as loose as overcooked spaghetti, and sleepwalking to her guest room by now. Instead she was wound up, fired up and heated up-for James.
If she'd brought a beautiful nightgown with her, it would be an easier decision. She wanted to look incredible for him. She wanted her armor-her perfume and lotions that sat on her dresser at home. She wanted the pink lightbulb she had in her little lamp on her bedside table. She was forty-one years old. She'd slept with one man her entire life, and he'd been dead a year. And she was lonely and … horny. She smiled at the word, which seemed better suited for a man, but she couldn't think of another word that fit her situation better.
Instead she sat on the edge of his tub with a fluffy blue towel wrapped around her, staring at her flannel pajamas jumbled on the vanity counter. They hadn't been a turnoff to James last night. He'd kissed her while she wore them. Unbuttoned the top. Put his mouth on her breasts. Slid his hand …
She stood, looked at herself in the mirror. Her face had a glow she hadn't seen in a very long time-probably from the hot water, but who cared? It made her look young and lively. Her hair was damp at the ends. She fluffed it then let it fall where it may. Definitely a tousled, sexy look. Lipstick? Yes. Only because it was the kind that couldn't be kissed off.
A bit of mascara and she was done. She was ready-if her answer was yes.
She stared at the floor for at least a minute then looked toward the ceiling. "I think you would want me to be happy," she whispered. "I think this would make me happy. For now. I know the future isn't in our cards. But for tonight? What's the harm?"
She nodded her head, then padded across his thick carpet to the bedroom door. She pulled it open, closed it with one sonic-boom short of a slam, making sure he could hear it. Then she walked to his bed, pulled back the bedding, climbed on top and knelt in the middle of it, holding tight to her towel with both hands.
She waited. And waited. And waited. Her legs started to tingle and ache. She fidgeted, wiggled her toes, straightened her legs, rotated her ankles. Still no James.
Her instep cramped just as she was about to climb off the bed and go in search of him. The door opened, catching her with one leg on the bed and one on the floor, the towel slipping from above and spreading open from below. The cramp tightened, curling her toes. Great. Just great. She'd gone from sexy lady to pained contortionist in two seconds flat.
"Ow," she said, unable to stop herself. She started walking and the cramp tightened even more.
"What's wrong?"
"I have a cramp in my foot," she muttered, embarrassed.
He came forward. "I heard the door … I thought you'd gone to your room," he said, looking confused.
Good. If she was going to look ridiculous, the least he could do was look confused.
"I didn't leave," she said.
"I used all my investigative skills to conclude that myself." He moved her back to sit on the bed, picked up her foot and pushed his thumb into her instep.
She almost screamed, then it eased. He worked at it for at least a minute in silence.
"Is this a yes, Caryn?" he asked quietly.
"Yes." The word jammed in her throat, but her lips shaped the letters. She tried again. "What took you so long?"
"I was trying to get over my disappointment before I came to bed. If I'd known you were waiting … " He kept her feet in his lap, his hands resting on her shins. "We've wasted ten minutes."
"Fifteen. But who's counting?"
His hair was damp. He must have taken a shower somewhere else in the house.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "You know what I mean … about tonight being the night?"
"It's past midnight. That day is over." And a new life begins.
"You are beautiful."
The reverence in his voice flipped a switch inside her. Whatever doubts, whatever concerns she had, disappeared in that instant.
"I'll be right back," he said, moving her legs aside. He went to his fireplace and lit it. A moment later, he turned a dial next to the door, and music filled the room, soft and bluesy. He turned off the lights, letting the flames of the gaslit fire provide the ambience.
Then he walked back to the bed.
She opened her arms to him. The towel almost fell, but didn't. She watched him take off his shoes, socks and T-shirt then he moved into her embrace and held her, just held her. She inhaled the scent of him, soapy and clean. Her cheek rested against his chest until he tipped her head back and kissed her.