Page 14 of Summer Weddings

“I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” She settled back against the pillows, savoring the sound of his voice, enjoying the small intimacy of lying in bed, listening to him. Her eyes drifted shut.

“As I recall, you’d just said something about how it isn’t any of your business who I lunch with or spend my weekends with. I assume you think I’m with a woman.”

Robin’s eyes shot open. “I can assure you, I don’t think anything of the sort.”

“I guess I should explain about the weekends.”

“No. I mean, Cole, it really isn’t my business. It doesn’t matter. Really.”

“I have some property north of here, about forty acres,” he said gently, despite her protests.

“The land once belonged to my grandfather, and he willed it to me when he passed away a couple of years back. This house was part of the estate, as well. My father was born and raised here. I’ve been spending a lot of my free time remodeling the old farmhouse.

Sometime in the future I might move out there. ”

“I see.” She didn’t want to think about Cole leaving the neighborhood, ever.

“The place still needs a lot of work, and I’ve enjoyed doing it on my own. It’s coming along well.”

She nodded and a second later realized he couldn’t see her action. “It sounds lovely.”

“Are there any other questions you’d like to ask me?” His voice was low and teasing.

“Of course not,” she denied immediately.

“Then would you be willing to admit you enjoy it when I kiss you? A high seven? Really? I think Jeff’s right—we need more practice.”

“Uh…” Robin didn’t know how to answer that.

“I’m willing,” he said, and she could almost hear him smile.

Robin lifted the hair from her forehead with one hand. “I can’t believe we’re having this discussion.”

“Would it help if I told you how much I enjoy kissing you?”

“Please…don’t,” she whispered. She didn’t want him to tell her that.

Every time he kissed her, it confused her more.

Despite the sheltered feeling she experienced in his arms, something deep and fundamental inside her was afraid of loving again.

No, terrified. She was terrified of falling in love with Cole.

Terrified of what the future might hold.

“The first time shook me more than I care to admit,” he said. “Remember that Friday night we rented the movie?”

“I remember.”

“I tried to stay away from you afterward. For an entire week I avoided you.”

Robin didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Lying back against the pillows, she stared at the ceiling as a sense of warmth enveloped her. A feeling of comfort…of happiness.

There was a short silence, and in an effort to bring their discussion back to a less intimate—less risky—level, she said, “Thank you for dinner. Jeff had the time of his life.” She had, too, but she couldn’t find the courage to acknowledge it.

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you going away this weekend to work on the property?”

She had no right to ask him that, and was shocked at how easily the question emerged.

“I don’t think so.” After another brief pause, he murmured, “When’s the last time you went on a picnic and flew a kite?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Would you consider going with me on Saturday afternoon? You and Jeff. The three of us together.”

“Yes… Jeff would love it.”

“How about you? Would you love it?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

There didn’t seem to be anything more to say, and Robin ended the conversation. “I’ll tell Jeff in the morning. He’ll be thrilled. Thank you.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

“Good night, Robin.”

She smiled softly. He said her name the way she’d always dreamed a man would, softly, with a mixture of excitement and need. “Good night, Cole.”

For a long time after they’d hung up Robin lay staring at her bedroom walls.

When she did flick off her light, she fell asleep as quickly as Jeff seemed to have.

She woke about midnight, surprised to find the sheets all twisted as if she’d tossed and turned frantically.

The bedspread had slipped onto the floor, and the top sheet was wound around her legs, trapping her.

Sitting up, she untangled her legs and brushed the curls from her face, wondering what had caused her restlessness. She didn’t usually wake abruptly like this.

She slid off the bed, found her slippers and went downstairs for a glass of milk.

It was while she was sitting at the table that it came to her. Her hand stilled. Her heartbeat accelerated. The couple in the Chinese restaurant. Robin had overheard them and she was certain Cole had, too.

Their little boy. A family.

Cole had lost a son. From the little Robin had learned, Cole’s son had been about the same age Jeff was now when he’d died. First divorce, and then death.

Suddenly it all made sense. A painful kind of sense. A panicky kind of sense. The common ground between them wasn’t their backyards, but the fact that they were both victims.

Cole was trying to replace the family that had been so cruelly taken from him.

Robin was just as guilty. She’d been so caught up in the tide of emotion and attraction that she’d refused to recognize what was staring her in the face. She’d ignored her own suspicions and fears, shoving them aside.

She and Cole were both hurting, needy people.

But once the hurt was assuaged, once the need had been satisfied, Cole would discover what Robin had known from the beginning. They were completely different people with little, if anything, in common.