Runaway Vampire(59)
Dante couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice as he asked, “How?”
“I’d always looked up to Joe and kind of put him on a pedestal,” she said, trying to explain. “First he was the “senior boy” to my freshman in high school, and then he went and got his degree while I didn’t, and then he got the big impressive job while I was a housewife. In my mind, we weren’t so much a couple as he was the star and I was just the supporting cast,” she admitted quietly. “But after everything that happened, he was no longer on that pedestal. He was just Joe. On top of that, I realized that I needed to boost my self-esteem and think more of myself, so I started taking classes at the university.”
Dante glanced to her with surprise. “In what?”
Mary hesitated, rolled her eyes and then admitted, “psychology.”
His head swiveled toward her, his eyebrows flying up in surprise and she shrugged helplessly.
“I wanted to better understand myself so I didn’t mess up again,” she admitted wryly, then added, “And I wanted to help others who might be going through the same things I had. Joe and I had wasted so many years on useless emotions we didn’t even understand.” Mary was silent for a minute, then sighed, and said, “So I got a bachelor’s, then a master’s, then went on for my doctorate.”
“You’re a doctor?” he gasped, unable to hold back his shock. That surprised the hell out of him. He’d got used to the idea of her being the housewife she kept talking about. This news was a bit surprising.
“Dr. Winslow, psychologist, at your service,” Mary said lightly with a nod, and then admitted, “It took me a while to get it. I was thirty-four when I started taking courses, and that first term I only took a couple classes. But then I started going full time, and even taking summer courses and I got my doctorate just before turning forty-four.”
Dante didn’t care how long it had taken; it was damned impressive.
“A psychologist,” he said with a smile. “Nice.”
They were both silent for a minute, then he glanced to her and teased, “So how does a psychologist end up with body issues?”
Mary’s eyes narrowed and then he saw her nose rise before he turned his gaze back to the road, and wasn’t really surprised when she snapped, “Actually, I don’t have body issues.”
He was starting to smile at the show of spirit when she added, “At least not with my body.”
Dante’s head snapped around with shock. “Surely you are not suggesting you have problems with my body?”
“Eyes front,” Mary said sweetly, using his own line on him. Once he turned his attention back to the road, she said, “Yes, I’m afraid I do have issues with your body. If you looked more like Dave I’d be dancing around the RV naked and jumping you at every turn.”
Caught briefly by the image of her dancing around the RV naked, it was a moment before the rest of what she’d said sank through his muddled brain. Once it did, Dante squawked, “Dave?”
“Well, not like Dave,” she said quickly, and then soothed his ego by adding, “I’m not attracted to him like I am to you. I just meant if you looked like you but more his age.”
Dante relaxed a little, a slow smile coming to his lips before he reminded her, “I am older than him.”
“Yes, but you look twenty-five,” she pointed out with exasperation.
“So?” he asked mildly.
“So my children are older than that,” she said with disgust.
“And that bothers you,” he said gently, and then pointed out, “Many women would take pleasure and pride in being able to show off a handsome younger man as their lover.”
Mary snorted. “Then they’re idiots. Because everyone is snickering behind their hands and assuming he’s there for money or something.”
“I have a great deal of money, Mary. I am not with you for anything but yourself,” he assured her solemnly.
She fell silent for a minute, and then said quietly, “It’s okay when you’re kissing me. Then I forget about how young you look and how old I am. But when you aren’t kissing me, all I can think about is that you look twenty-five to my sixty-two, and I feel like a dirty old woman contemplating raping a child.”
Dante chuckled at the claim, and then assured her, “I am not a child. And trust me, it would not be rape.” He glanced in the side mirror as a car whipped past them on the highway, then cast a smile her way and offered, “I could tie you down the next time so you can be sure you are not raping me.”
Mary’s eyes widened and he could hear her heart rate speed up at the very thought, then she swallowed thickly and said, “Anyway, Joe and I—”