Because when I took it, I fantasized that you were thinking of me. Remembering me. Us. How good we were together. Because I was remembering you. “I think it really captures you. Your many facets. I like your expression, the contrasts it shows. You look seductive, yet shy. Tempting, playful, yet there’s an air of innocence. I like the way your eyes are looking right into the camera. The way you seem to be saying, ‘I want you more than Hershey’s Kisses’-is that still your favorite candy, by the way?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be forever loyal to my Kisses.”
Eye on the ball, dude-don’t think about kisses. He nodded. “As I was saying, ‘I want you more than Hershey’s Kisses.’ Believe me, it’s a look that any guy would give a lot to inspire.” Me, for example.
The thought ambushed him and he had to clear his throat to locate his voice. “And the way your lips are slightly parted, just enough to issue an invitation, but not too much. You look great in all the pictures, but speaking as a guy, that one is guaranteed to knock his socks off.” It sure as hell knocked off mine.
She looked back down at the print and frowned. “I hope you’re right,” she murmured.
Adam’s eyebrows shot up at her softly spoken words, words that, based on her faraway expression, he wasn’t sure she even realized she’d said. Christ, if one look at that photo of her didn’t give George, or Greg, or whatever the hell his name was, an instant hard-on, the guy needed to check his pulse.
But her murmured words… Was it possible that all wasn’t perfect between her and what’s-his-name? If there was trouble in paradise… He pulled in a slow breath, and even though he fought it, a bit more kindling was tossed onto that internal fire, burning bright within him that-which-suspiciously-felt-like…
Hope.
She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid I need to get going.” She looked beyond him, over his shoulder, clearly looking for their waitress.
Disappointment washed through him, a fact that annoyed him. It was definitely time for this torturous stroll down memory lane to end. “You can go,” he said. “I’ve got the check.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I want to. For old times’ sake. Besides, I have to stick around and order something to-go for Nick.”
“All right. Thank you.” She slid toward the edge of the vinyl booth. “Lunch was delicious.”
He rose then patted his stomach. “Sure was.” He nodded toward the envelope. “Let us know which of the proofs you want made into prints.”
“I will.” She stood, looking a bit uncertain, as if she didn’t know whether to shake his hand or kiss his cheek or what. He helped her out by leaning forward and brushing his lips lightly against her smooth cheek. For a brief second, his eyes involuntarily closed. God, she smelled incredible. Like flowers in sunshine. He felt her lips touch his cheek, then she stepped back. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“You, too.” Really nice. Far too nice. Which meant that he needed to let her just walk out the door. But that stupid flame still burned, so instead he found himself saying lightly, “Maybe we can manage not to lose touch this time.”
Instead of smiling and agreeing, a small frown furrowed between her brows. Then she flashed a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Maybe,” she said in a tone that made the word sound more like I don’t think so. “But with all your traveling and the summer being my busiest time…”
Her voice trailed off and he swallowed a sensation that felt like disappointment but was surely really relief-especially as it irrevocably extinguished that ridiculous flame. He knew a kiss-off when he heard one-especially from this particular woman. Obviously he’d misread her and everything was fine between her and the boyfriend.
Really, he was relieved. Given his apparent strong attraction to her, seeing her again wouldn’t be wise.
“I understand,” he said, forcing a smile. “Here’s hoping you sell a bazillion houses.”
“That would be nice. Good luck with all your travels and finding a new career and a new place to live.”
“Thanks.” Unable to stop himself, he said, “And hey, if things don’t work out with George-”
“Greg.”
“Right. Give me a call.” He gave her a jaunty salute and shot her his best lighthearted wink. “I’ll treat you to another bacon cheeseburger.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She turned to go, and even though his inner voice warned him to remain silent, he found himself saying, “Six.”
She turned back, clearly puzzled. “Six? What does that mean?”
“That’s the number of times we made love that afternoon on the boat.”
She said nothing for several long seconds, the silence swelling between them, tense and thick. Then she murmured, “Goodbye, Adam,” and quickly wove her way through the labyrinth of tables.
He watched her walk away, his insides aching with a hollow sense of loss he wished like hell he didn’t feel.
When she reached the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. They stared at each other and he wondered if she could see the desire he suspected lingered in his eyes. Seconds later she exited, then turned the corner and was lost to his sight.
Yeah, she was gone.
Unfortunately, he suspected the memories of her would linger in his mind for a long, long time.
4
Saturday, 4:00 p.m.
MALLORY STOOD in the parking lot at her real-estate agent’s office and waved goodbye to her clients, the Langdons. The afternoon house showing had gone extremely well and the couple had made an offer on the Maple Drive split-level. Matching up the Langdons and their three school-age children with the spacious house with the big backyard situated on a quiet cul-de-sac had filled her with a deep sense of satisfaction.
For Mallory, uniting a buyer with the perfect place to live involved much more than just showing them a house-it was about finding them a home. In a neighborhood that suited their lifestyle. She accomplished that by talking in depth to her customers, asking them lots of questions, and really listening to their responses. The Langdons’ new home was only a short walk to the elementary school, and the school district was among the highest rated in the county. It was convenient to both shopping and the Long Island Railroad, which Mr. Langdon rode daily into Manhattan.
Entering the office, she spent some time trying to catch up on paperwork, but her efforts were thwarted when her mind kept wandering…to the same thing it had kept wandering to for the past week.
Adam Clayton.
She squeezed her eyes shut to banish him from her mind, but instead an image of him flashed behind her eyelids. And not just any image. No, a memory of him naked. In the shower. They’d driven to Philadelphia to attend a concert and had spent the night at a cheap motel. It was the first time they’d spent an entire night together. First time they’d made love in the shower. She could visualize him so clearly…rivulets of warm water meandering down his muscular and aroused body. His eyes dark with desire. Holding out his hand in an invitation to join him. Slick, soapy hands, wet bodies aroused, his slow glide deep inside her-
Her eyes popped open and a disgusted sound pushed past her lips. Good grief, what was wrong with her? This had to stop. Dwelling on thoughts of Adam, indulging in reliving memories of their affair, was accomplishing nothing except filling her with a deep sense of guilt. And unfulfilled sexual frustration.
Surely the only reason she couldn’t exorcise thoughts of Adam from her mind was that Greg had been away on a business trip to L.A. all week and she’d been lonely.