"Isn't this fun, Mom?" Megan asked over the heads of those people sitting between them. All eyes swung in Elizabeth's direction.
"It's a blast," she answered, forcing a smile. She was aware of Thad's arm resting on the slats of the wagon behind her. If she leaned back, even a fraction of an inch, she'd be within the curve of his arm. She'd never kept such rigid posture.
The man operating the hayride maximized the capacity of the wagon. As he loaded the last waiting group, he said, "Scrunch up, please, so everybody can get on. Ma'am, if you wouldn't mind sitting in your husband's lap, it'll make more room.
With horror, Elizabeth realized that he was speaking to her. She remained as still as a wooden Indian. Everybody in the wagon turned to glare at the uncooperative spoilsport who was holding up the proceedings.
"Elizabeth?"
She heard Thad's soft inquiry, like a caressing breath on her ear, but she didn't look at him. Instead, feeling helpless and resigned, she offered no resistance when he lifted her onto his lap.
"Thanks." The driver of the wagon closed the tailgate behind the last passengers. He moved to the front, took his seat on the top of the wagon, and picked up the reins. Flicking the horse's rump with them, he called back, "Hold on, folks. Here we go.
The wagon lurched forward. Because she was sitting so stiff and straight, Elizabeth was thrown off balance. She landed hard against Thad's chest. Her bottom slipped into the notch of his thighs. She heard him grunt softly and wondered if it was from pleasure or pain, unsure which she would rather it be.
"Did you hear what that man said, Mom?" Megan called out to her. "He thought Thad was your husband."
"That'd be neat," the devil with the red and black face chimed in. "Then I'd have a real dad instead of one who just lives in heaven."
Groaning, Elizabeth closed her eyes and prayed for invisibility. She blessed the merciful soul who started a round of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" and drew the crowd's attention away from her.
She felt the vibration of Thad's silent laughter through his gray suede jacket. "Remind me to murder my children later," she muttered. "I'm so sorry, Thad."
"For what?"
"For embarrassing you."
"You're the one who's embarrassed, not me."
"And for having to sit on your lap. I hope you don't mind too much."
His eyes held hers. "Not at all. In fact, as long as we're here," he added gruffly as he slipped his arms around her, "we'd just as well relax and enjoy the, uh… ride."
He had been charming. His manners had been flawless. He could have been a real cad about having her sit on his lap during the hayride. He could have taken unfair advantage of the situation and sneaked a feel in the dark. It would have been easy, considering that his hands were clasped together just below her breasts for the duration of the jostling ride. But he hadn't.
He'd been a perfect gentleman. Hadn't he offered her his jacket when the night air had grown cold? Yes, he had. That's when she'd felt his warm breath feather her neck. That's when she'd been tempted to relax her rigid posture, to let her neck go limp, and to rest her head on his shoulder. But she could hardly initiate something romantic when he'd gone out of his way to keep things platonic, could she?
He'd maintained that friendly, gentlemanly attitude all evening. He had commiserated with Megan and Matt when their raffle tickets for the compact disc player turned out to be losers. He had thanked them repeatedly for inviting him to the Fall Festival. He hadn't dropped them at the curb, but walked them up the sidewalk to their front door and saw them safely inside. His smile had been open and companionable with nary a trace of suggestiveness when he said a private good night to Elizabeth and thanked her again for letting him go with them.
He had been a good sport about the whole thing.
So, dammit, why was she disappointed?
At home now, alone in her upstairs bedroom with the lamp turned low and the shutters closed, why did she wish he'd done something just a shade shady?
He could have given her one soft nuzzle on the neck during the hayride. He could have raked his thumb along the undersides of her breasts just to let her know that he knew they were there and that they weren't bad for a close-to-thirty mother of two.
When he helped her down from the wagon, he could have held her against him a second or two longer. When he told her good night after the children had already been sent upstairs to get ready for bed, he could have invited himself in for a quick cup of coffee. He could have given her a friendly good-night kiss on the cheek. He could have done something a little less nice and a lot more exciting.
Not that she wanted anything of a romantic nature to spark between them. She didn't. It was just that it had been a far more pleasant evening than she'd had any right to expect. He was even more attractive than she had originally thought. His past affairs intrigued her and she was mad to know what kind of woman appealed to him. A man like him didn't stay celibate for long stretches of time. He was a gentleman, but he wasn't dead, and every time that wagon had found a dip in the soccer field and her hips had ground against his lap… No, he definitely wasn't dead.
Oh, hell. She was being ridiculous. Vexed by her own silliness, she switched off the lamp and pulled the covers up to her chin. Irrationally she was furious with him for being so nice.
Chapter 5
She was still furious when she drove to the market the following afternoon. Since she wasn't going far and wouldn't be gone long, she had left Megan and Matt at home to do their weekend homework. Shopping without them was always easier than having them along, pestering her to buy things they didn't need and couldn't afford.
The aisles of the supermarket were virtually deserted since the Chicago Bears game was being televised that afternoon. She located everything on her list quickly and was heading for the checkout lane when she saw him enter the store. If he hadn't spotted her at the same time, she would have made a point to avoid him.
As it was, she gave him a vapid smile and a brief nod, wheeled her basket one hundred and eighty degrees, and took off in the opposite direction. Thinking that she had adroitly maneuvered herself out of an unwelcome encounter, she drew up short when he rounded the end of the next aisle and they met face-to-face.
"Hi."
"Hi, Thad."
"You've got quite a basketful."
"A whole week's worth. I try to get all my grocery shopping done on the weekend. The week gets so busy. But it seems like I always forget something. As often as not I end up stopping at the store at least once a day anyway." She let her inane chatter dwindle and die. Nervously she shifted from one sneaker-shod foot to the other. "I thought you'd be watching the ball game like every other conscientious fan."
His lips quirked in a smile. "It's halftime. I came out for reinforcements." He held up a bag of potato chips and a six-pack of beer.
"Oh, well, don't let me keep you." She rolled her basket forward.
"If you've got everything, I'll follow you home and carry your groceries in for you."
"No!" Her exclamation took them both by surprise. "I mean, I wouldn't hear of keeping you from the ball game."
"No problem, the Bears are ahead by twenty-one points. It's boring."
Before she could stop him, he added his potato chips and beer to her shopping cart, moved her aside, and assumed command of it the way the captain of a ship relieves his boatswain of the wheel.
"Really, Thad, there's no need — "
"Well hello!"
Thad had taken the blind turn at the end of the aisle and crashed into the cart being pushed by the room mother of Megan's class.