‘‘You surprise me,'' Mark said, leaning forward. ‘‘I would never have guessed it.''
‘‘Guessed what?'' She was beginning to feel a little foolish now.
‘‘That a woman who gives the impression of being a scatterbrain is really quite reflective. Beneath those glow-in-the-dark sweatshirts lies a very romantic heart.''
‘‘I seem to have a tendency to get emotional about certain things,'' she answered, studying the menu, eager to change the subject. ‘‘I've heard hot-and-sour soup is wonderful. Have you ever tried it?''
Their conversation over dinner remained light and amusing. Shelly noticed that Mark avoided any more discussion of a personal nature, as did she.
After they'd finished their dinner and Mark had paid the bill, they leisurely strolled back toward the theater. Mark offered to drive her home when they reached his parked car, but Shelly declined. Her apartment was only a couple of blocks north and she preferred to walk.
Walk and think. Their time together had given her plenty to think about.
‘‘Thank you for dinner,'' she said as he unlocked the car.
‘‘You're welcome,'' he answered. ‘‘Well, good night for now,'' he said, grinning. ‘‘I suspect I'll be seeing you soon.''
She grinned back. ‘‘Probably within a day or two. Maybe we should synchronize our schedules,'' she teased.
‘‘That wouldn't bother you, would it?''
‘‘Oh, no. What about you?'' She hated the way her voice rose expectantly with the question. She certainly wasn't bothered by the prospect of seeing him again. In fact, she was downright eager to see what tricks fate would play on them next.
Mark's eyes found hers then, and he slowly pocketed his car keys. His look was so potent, so full of emotion, that Shelly took a step in retreat. ‘‘I had a wonderful afternoon, a wonderful evening. Thanks again,'' she said nervously.
Mark didn't say a word as he continued to gaze at her.
‘‘The play was great, wasn't it? And dinner … fabulous.'' Shelly's throat seemed to close as Mark stepped onto the curb and walked toward her.
The whole world seemed to come to a sudden, abrupt halt when she realized he intended to kiss her. Not again, her mind shouted. Please hurry, her heart sang.
Her heartbeat tripped wildly as Mark lowered his head, his mouth seeking hers. Despite the fierce battle inside her, Shelly was forced to admit how much she wanted this kiss. If for no other reason, she told herself, than to prove that the first time had been an accident, a fluke.
Only it happened again. But this kiss was a hundred times more compelling than the first one they'd shared. A hundred times more exciting.
Shelly wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it all. If a man's kiss was going to affect her this acutely, why did it have to be Mark Brady's?
He broke away from her reluctantly, his warm breath fanning her cheek. His eyes were filled with questions, filled with surprise. Shelly wasn't sure what her own eyes were saying to him. She didn't even want to know.
‘‘Take care,'' he whispered as he turned away.
SHELLY STAYED home from work on Monday. She wasn't sick, just confused and puzzled. Nothing about her relationship with Mark seemed to make sense. He was everything she didn't want in a man-and everything she did.
Shelly didn't realize how despondent she was until she found herself standing barefoot in front of her closet, carrying on a conversation with Aunt Milly's wedding dress.
‘‘I'll have you know I had a perfectly good life until you arrived,'' she muttered disparagingly. ‘‘Now it seems my whole world's been turned upside down.'' She slammed the door closed, then jerked it open. ‘‘No wonder Mrs. Livingston's cat wouldn't go near you. You're dangerous.''
Chapter Nine
‘‘THE PLAY WAS GREAT,'' Shelly told Jill over coffee Wednesday afternoon. She'd stopped off at PayRite, hoping Jill could get away for lunch. ‘‘Even Mark-''
‘‘Mark?'' Jill's coffee cup hit the saucer with a clang. ‘‘He was at the play?''
Shelly nodded sheepishly. ‘‘I guess I forgot to mention I ran into him, didn't I? Actually he called me first and since we both had plans to attend the same performance, we decided to go together.''
‘‘Is there anything else you haven't told me?'' Jill's eyes narrowed astutely.
Shelly tried to hide her uneasiness behind a relaxed shrug, but how well she succeeded in fooling Jill remained to be seen. ‘‘We had dinner afterward … as friends. It didn't mean anything. I did tell you he's engaged, didn't I?''
‘‘Unofficially engaged.'' Jill was studying her closely and Shelly felt distinctly uneasy under the scrutiny.
‘‘We've been friends for a long time,'' Jill reminded her. ‘‘In some ways I know you as well as I do myself. There's something troubling you.''
Shelly nodded, knowing it wouldn't do any good to hide the truth from Jill. Her need to confide in a sympathetic, understanding person was the very reason for her impromptu visit to Jill's workplace. Lunch had been a convenient excuse.
‘‘You won't believe this,'' Shelly said, cradling the warm coffee cup in both hands and keeping her gaze lowered. ‘‘I can hardly believe it myself.''
‘‘You're falling in love with Mark.''
Shelly's gaze shot upward. ‘‘It shows that much?''
‘‘No,'' Jill said softly. ‘‘But you look like you're about to break into tears.''
‘‘If I wasn't so darn irritated I would. Good grief, think about it. Can you imagine two people less suited to each other? Mark is so … so responsible … ''
‘‘So are you.''
‘‘Not in the same way,'' Shelly argued. ‘‘He's so sincere and … ''
‘‘Shelly, so are you.''
‘‘Perhaps, but I'm such a scatterbrain. I'm disorganized and always late and I like to do things my own way. You know that better than most.''
‘‘I prefer to think of you as creative.''
Shelly tossed Jill a smile of appreciation. ‘‘That's the reason you're my best friend. I don't mind telling you, Jill, I'm worried. Mark Brady may be the Rock of Gibraltar, but I sincerely doubt he's got an original thought in his head. Everything is done by the book or according to schedule.''
‘‘You need someone like Mark in your life,'' Jill returned kindly. ‘‘Don't look so shocked. It's true. The two of you balance each other. He needs you because you're fun and crazy and imaginative, and you need him because he knows his times tables by heart and will remind you when it's time for meals.''
‘‘The problem is, Mark's the type of man who would expect a woman to cook those meals.''
Jill chuckled.
‘‘If the fates are determined to match me up with someone,'' Shelly moaned, ‘‘couldn't it be with someone other than an accountant?''
‘‘Apparently not.''
‘‘What really angers me about this is that I allowed it to happen. The first time he kissed me-''
‘‘He kissed you?'' Jill feigned a look of horror.
Shelly ignored it. ‘‘Yes. A couple of times. It's only natural-our being curious about each other, don't you think?''
‘‘I suppose,'' Jill said quickly, no longer teasing. ‘‘So tell me what happened.''
‘‘Fireworks bigger than the Fourth of July. I've never experienced the feelings I do with Mark, and all because of a simple kiss. I can't even begin to imagine what would happen if we ever made love.''
‘‘And does Mark feel the same thing?''
‘‘I-I can't speak for him, but I think it must be equally disturbing for him. He certainly looked as if he'd been taken by surprise.''
‘‘How do you get along with him otherwise?''
‘‘Fine, I guess.'' Shelly paused long enough to take a sip of her coffee. ‘‘I'm sure I amuse him. But someone like Mark isn't looking for a woman to entertain him, any more than I'm looking for a man to balance my checkbook.''