bounty of his body that was remarkable. His dark, sable-brown hair was short all over and in a sexy disarray that made it impossible to tell if it was by design or nature. His features were the kind that a camera would love—stark and chiseled, with a square brow, a sharp jaw that cradled a chin with the slightest cleft in the center and a nose that was thin and perfectly aquiline.
His skin was smooth and sun-bronzed, his lean cheeks were shadowed with a day’s growth of beard that made him look appealingly scruffy, and when he finally finished hooking his tools through their allotted loops and cast his attention in the direction of the foyer, the blue-green of his eyes was so intense Clair thought she could feel his gaze settling on her.
But not so much as the hint of emotion was evident in his deep voice when he said, “Hello, Clair.”
Then he finally came the rest of the way down the steps on legs that bowed a little and carried him on a slow swagger that had just a hint of insolence to it.
And all of a sudden Clair found her throat so dry she had trouble saying, “Hi.”
His eyes remained on her but he didn’t say anything else, and Clair wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or if there was a sort of challenge in his expression. In his whole stance.
But if there was she didn’t know what he was challenging her to or how to meet it, and she was grateful when Cassie filled the gap.
“Have you eaten? Are you hungry? Thirsty? We had Chinese food and there are leftovers. And I made a pitcher of lemonade a little while ago.”
“Just the lemonade sounds good,” Clair managed.
Cassie checked her wristwatch. “I only have a few minutes before I need to leave for a committee meeting. I’m helping Ben with things around here because he’s down to the wire, but I also have stuff going on for fall semester at the college—although admittedly as a student advisor I won’t be swamped there until the kids show up so I’ll be in and out with you guys the whole time you’re here. Anyway, how about if I pour while Ben takes your suitcase out to the cottage?”
The only part of what Cassie said that registered with Clair was the part about Cassie only staying a few more minutes. And that fact made her suffer a fresh bout of panic. But she didn’t let it show. Instead she said a weak, “Okay.”
Cassie linked her arm through Clair’s then and headed for the kitchen, chattering about Northbridge going international with the opening of Ling’s Chinese Palace restaurant.
It wasn’t like Cassie to be so frenzied, and Clair wondered if her friend was responding to the tension in the air. But she was too on-edge herself to do more than let Cassie carry her along.
And all the while she was watching Ben as he walked ahead of them with her suitcase, knowing she shouldn’t be looking at his great rear end, and that she certainly shouldn’t be trying futilely to remember what it had looked like naked.
But it was only when they reached the large kitchen at the back of the house and Ben went out the sliding door that she managed to stop thinking about his derriere and focus on something else. On the kitchen itself.
The kitchen was as it had always been—a big, wide-open space with commercial-size appliances, and very little in the way of decor—with the exception of the backsplash tiles with the floral motif. There was a marble island counter with barstools on one side of it, and, for dining purposes, there was a long rectangular table with picnic-bench-style seating.
Cassie motioned Clair to one of the barstools, and then went to the refrigerator.
“It’s hard for you to be here again with your dad gone, isn’t it?” Cassie said when her brother was out of sight and earshot, letting Clair know that that was what her friend attributed the tension to.
“A little,” Clair admitted because that was also a factor in her stress.
“Will you be okay alone in the cottage? I really wish you could stay at my place, but with my roommate’s brother sleeping on our couch right now I know you wouldn’t be comfortable. My offer is still good, though, to come out here and stay with you, if you want.”
It was a tempting offer—not only because then Cassie would provide a constant diversion from Ben, but because Clair would have liked to spend time with her friend.
But she had a purpose other than helping Ben Walker get the school started and that purpose would only be served without a diversion.
So Clair said, “I’ll be okay. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“It wouldn’t be baby-sitting,” Cassie assured. “And I don’t mind if you need me.”
“Thanks, but, no. Really. I’m fine.”
Cassie accepted that, brought Clair the glass of lemonade and then pointed to the wall clock. “I hate to rush off the minute you get here but I have to.”
“It’s okay,” Clair lied.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, and Ben will take good care of you in the meantime—won’t you?”
Clair hadn’t heard him come back and since she was facing away from the sliding door she had to look over her shoulder to make sure that’s who Cassie was talking to.
“Uh-huh,” he answered.
But apparently it was answer enough for Cassie because it prompted her to say, “All right then, I better go. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Clair and Ben responded with goodbyes of their own and then all of a sudden they were alone. In a silence Clair thought was heavy enough to be tangible.
But she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know whether to launch into an explanation of what had gone through her mind at the reunion and the next morning. Or to make excuses for herself. Or to try to convince him that her actions that night were unusual in the extreme—which they were.
Or maybe she should just act as if nothing had happened at all….
“Long drive from Denver,” he said then, interrupting the silence and her racing thoughts as he went to stand on the opposite side of the island. He stretched his arms wide and grabbed hold of the edges of the countertop.
“It is a long drive,” Clair agreed. “But I got a really early start this morning and it was a nice day for traveling. Sunny but not too hot.”
She couldn’t believe she was actually talking about the weather. Still, she just couldn’t bring herself to delve into anything deeper.
And then he did.
He said, “She doesn’t know—Cassie, that is—about what happened at the reunion. Between you and me. Nobody does.” He paused, made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, and added, “Including me in a lot of respects.”
“I’m not all that clear myself. Even about the parts I remember,” Clair admitted, staring at the beads of water on the outside of her lemonade glass because she couldn’t look him in the eye.
“We did have a lot to drink that night,” he allowed, making it easier for her. At least up to a point. “But the next morning…I was sobered up by then, you must have been,
