good to see you, too,” he interrupted. Chuckling, he shifted his hand on her waist, searching for a spot where the heat of her skin didn’t penetrate the thin fabric of her dress to singe his palm.
“I didn’t know you were home.” Did he imagine the hitch in her voice?
“I’ve only been here a few days, and I won’t be staying long.” As soon as he figured out how in the hell to put his life back together, he’d return to Durham.
“You’re still in the residency program at Duke?”
“Yes, I…took some time off.” Tracy had always expected the best from him, and for some reason he didn’t want to admit to her that he’d been hit by the Lander curse. He’d screwed up and gotten a woman pregnant the same way his father and one of his brothers had. A medical school graduate ought to know better.
Twenty-one pounds of hindsight had dropped in his lap last week, and he still hadn’t figured out how he was going to handle that much…knowledge and continue his training.
The band switched to a slow ballad, and the lights dimmed. He pulled Tracy closer, but she stiffened and leaned away. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Why not? It’s not like we haven’t danced before. Prom night. Right here in this gym. Remember?”
And just like prom night, he couldn’t control the action going on in his britches. Come on, man, get a grip. This is your pal, Tracy.
Her lush lips flattened. “I remember.”
Whoa. Definite frostbite. Either she’d guessed his struggle or… “Do I have bad breath or something?”
She glanced at his mouth and then away. His lips tingled. “No, but I’d rather not take a trip down memory lane.”
“Isn’t that what a reunion is all about?” She squirmed in his hold, looking ready to bolt. Reluctant to let her go, he changed the subject. “What are you doing now?”
“Teaching.”
Surprise made him stumble or maybe it was exhaustion. His thigh brushed between hers, and a distracting prickle followed his veins uphill. Oh man. Another jolt like that and everybody in the gym would be able to see his adolescent reaction. “I didn’t know you wanted to teach.”
“We never discussed my plans. We focused on your goals.” Her gaze never left his chin.
“Ouch. Was I a selfish SOB?”
“No. You were the youngest in your family. The world tends to revolve around the one occupying that niche.” He didn’t hear a reprimand in her tone, only a statement of fact.
It was his turn to squirm. “And you were the oldest, the one in charge of the Sullivan herd. Are you still cracking the whip over David and the rest of your brothers and sisters?”
Her gaze flicked to his and away again before he could figure out what kind of thoughts she had running around in her head. “My family’s still around.”
No doubt her siblings had left her holding down the fort with the parents—not that she’d complain. Tracy had always been big on responsibility. “Where are you teaching?”
“Here.”
“Here, as in Texas or here as in…here?”
“I teach English here at County.” Her expression dared him to make something of it, and her spine stiffened beneath his fingers. He fought the urge to massage the tense muscles.
“You’re probably good at it, but I’ll bet you’re tough. You were with me, and I can’t tell you how much I learned to appreciate that once I hit college.”
His comment seemed to fluster her. “Yes, well, I’m hoping to become the principal soon—if I can penetrate the all-boys club.” Pride and steely determination tilted her chin and exposed the slim column of her neck bared by the V-neck dress.
He struggled with an unexpected impulse to bury his face in the pale skin and cleared his throat. “So you’re doing well?”
She focused on a point beyond his shoulder. “Yes, my career—my life—is right on target.”
Good. At least somebody’s was. His sure had taken an unexpected detour, and where he’d go from here was anybody’s guess. He had to figure that out—pronto.
An enthusiastic couple careened in their direction. Cort shifted his hold and swung her out of the way. His feet tangled as if someone had tied his shoestrings together, and he ended up pressed against Tracy from shoulder to knee. She went poker stiff, and he realized he had a handful of the curvaceous bottom he’d admired earlier. Dormant hormones awoke with the clamor of a marching band and paraded south in formation. Swift and unexpected desire made his mouth water and his skin flush.
For Tracy. Oh, hell.
His weird thoughts had to be a by-product of exhaustion. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he’d picked up Josh. The kid cried all the time and his sleep cycle was nonexistent. They’d both be happier as soon as he could figure out why.
“Excuse me.” The chill in her voice and the look in her eyes warned him he might lose a few digits—among other things—if he didn’t move. Fast.
He missed another step and slid against her. The hard tips of her soft breasts teased his chest. His senses rioted. She couldn’t possibly miss his condition. Embarrassed, he put a few inches between them.
“Do you mind if we sit the rest of this one out? I could use some caffeine.” Or a cold shower.
“By all means. Refreshments are this way.” Was that a quaver in her voice? Tracy pulled free and led the way across the gym in a long, sure stride.
For several seconds his knees locked, refusing to move. When did she add that seductive sway to her walk? He gave himself a mental kick in the pants and followed at a slower pace. His professor of abnormal psychology would have a field day with this. Was the combination of fatigue and sex deprivation the root of his problem? Or had bookworm Tracy Sullivan transformed into a goddess sometime during the past decade?
He shrugged it off. Either way it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be here long enough to find out. Besides, even if he didn’t have to worry about her brother anymore there were some things a guy just didn’t do with a pal. Loving ’em and leaving ’em ranked number one on the list.
She handed him a glass of soda when he reached her side, and he chugged the icy liquid.
Libby bounced up. “Hey, you two, this isn’t a funeral.”
He welcomed the interruption and tried to realign his thinking while Libby babbled at an auctioneer’s pace about who’d done what, when and where. Cort lost track of her convoluted tale, focusing instead on the emotions chasing across Tracy’s face. Had he offended her?
His brain tuned back in when Libby said, “Tracy is without her usual summer nanny job and without a tenant for her upstairs apartment. And if I know you, Tracy, you’ve spent every spare dime on your baby brother and your needs-to-get-a-life-and-a-job sister. What will you do for
