With a Little T.L.C. Page 7

  “There’s been no one special for the long haul. And because of the example my parents set and all the pain and misery I’ve seen—failure is not an option.”

  “So you’re giving up?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that. Stopped looking is more the way I see it. I choose not to try. There’s a difference. Somehow it seems nobler to take yourself out of the game than to play handicapped and blow it completely.”

  “I suppose.” She shivered.

  “Are you cold?”

  “It’s getting chilly,” she admitted.

  “I can do something about that.” He held out his hand.

  Her heart beat double-time as she put her cold hand in his warm, strong one and let him pull her to her feet. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, looking up—way up—at him.

  Most guys would go straight to something physical to warm her up. What would he do?

  He linked his fingers with hers and led the way past the pool and toward the brightly lit house. “I need to get you inside before Regional Medical Center’s star baby nurse gets sick.”

  Liz felt a momentary prick of disappointment not to mention frustration. Nine guys out of ten would have opted for combined body heat and probably a kiss leading to whatever he could get away with. Why did she find it so annoying that he’d picked this opportunity to prove yet again that he was a ten?

  Joe was taking a break from his volunteer shift while the babies were with the mothers. On his way to the cafeteria for a soda, he passed classroom 2 and realized that this was the night Liz held her new mothers’ support group. He poked his head in the back door, just to see what was going on, he told himself. Not because it had been two days since they’d been together at his folks. And not because he’d been keeping his eyes open for her ever since he’d arrived right after work and had been disappointed at not seeing her cute, curvy, cheery little person.

  She was in the front of the room listening intently to one of the moms and didn’t notice when he slipped into the room and took a seat in the back. All the better to watch her.

  Tonight she wore hospital scrubs—teal-colored cotton pants with an elastic waist and a V-neck top covered with cartoon characters cavorting on a white background. Certainly not a femme fatale ensemble, but eminently practical for her job. Oddly enough, shapeless clothes and all, she looked pretty darn good to him.

  He watched her bite her lip as she focused on the woman’s words, something about not being interested in what got her into this in the first place. It was the darnedest thing. Why had he not realized what a kissable mouth Liz had until he hadn’t kissed her?

  Ever since she’d told him her history, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on much of anything but her. Visions of Liz under the stars kept popping into his mind. He’d thought about kissing her. He’d wanted to. The way she’d looked up at him with her big eyes and all, he’d sensed that she wanted him to kiss her, too.

  But he decided it would be best not to live up to her low expectations. Unfortunately, his body didn’t get the logic. The more he watched her now, the worse it got. Maybe absence was the antidote. He decided it was time to leave. When he stood, the chair backed up a notch and the resulting squeak seemed loud as a gunshot. All heads in the room turned. He froze, like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Hey, Joe.” Barbara held up a hand in a wave. “Got any more words of wisdom?”

  “Excuse me?” he said.

  Andie, the mother with breast-feeding questions, chimed in. “You were amazing the last time you dropped by group. I bet you can give us some great advice about this.”

  He’d been concentrating on Liz’s mouth and hadn’t a clue what they were talking about. But it was safe to say whatever it was probably wasn’t for a man’s ears. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Actually, I just came in to sit for a minute until visiting hours are over and the babies go back to the nursery.”

  There was a twinkle in Liz’s eyes as she said, “For our new moms, let me introduce you. This is Joe Marchetti, our most recent addition to the cuddlers program.”

  “Hi,” he said with a quick wave.

  He recognized Andie and remembered her baby’s name was Val. And Barbara was there with Tommy. There were a couple more mothers he recognized and several who looked what he could only describe as “first-couple-weeks-of-infancy haggard.”

  “No doubt you heard, but let me sum up for you,” Liz said in a tone that told him she knew he didn’t have a clue. “We were discussing what I like to call post-partum lackluster libido syndrome. I’ve tried to come up with some suggestions to combat this phenomenon in new mothers. They love their husbands. They’re anxious to show their love. But they aren’t quite there yet, if you get my drift.”

  He groaned inwardly. Here we go with the doublespeak again, he thought. The wild thing, you know, the horizontal boogie, and so on. He looked at his watch. “It’s almost that time. I wouldn’t want to shirk my volunteer responsibilities. My boss is a tough cookie—”

  “Not so fast, Joe.” Barbara bounced her sleeping infant. “We’re talking about the wild thing here. Remember that?”

  Did he ever. Since that night under the stars with Liz, it was all he could think about. That and how good she smelled. How soft her skin was when he’d held her small hands. How delicate and feminine those hands were and how it made him want to protect her. And that led him to more wanting—like the touch, texture and taste of her lips—if he’d taken a chance and kissed her.

  “What about it?” he asked, hoping they hadn’t noticed that his voice sounded hoarse.

  “It’s what brought me this beautiful baby boy. I feel so blessed. And I feel bad for my husband. I love him. But I’m afraid that I’ll never want to be with him again. You’re a guy—”

  “Brilliant, Barb,” Andie said with a chuckle. “What was your first clue?”

  “The beard and muscles were a dead giveaway,” said a woman whose name he didn’t know.

  “Okay, Christina,” Liz said laughing. “We don’t want to embarrass our guest speaker.”

  “Are we making you uncomfortable, Joe?” Barbara asked.

  “No,” he said and found it was true. Only one woman in the room made him uncomfortable. She was wearing shapeless scrubs and had a kissable mouth.

  For half a second he thought he might have said that out loud. When they didn’t look at their fearless leader and snicker, he figured there was no need to duck and run.

  But he realized he truly wasn’t embarrassed about the subject matter. This was an earthy group of women who were at ease with talking about this perfectly natural subject.

  “Do you have any advice?” Liz asked, tapping her top lip with her finger.

  There it was again. His pesky inclination to trace that exact spot with his tongue. “Well,” he said, then swallowed hard. “I would start with kissing.”

  “How’s that?” Liz asked. He wondered if it was wishful thinking on his part or if she actually sounded a little breathless.

  “Take baby steps,” he continued. A general giggle erupted. He grinned at the group as he moved to the front of the room. “You and your mate have been through the most intimate experience a couple can share. But life is a series of trade-offs. Having a baby brings you closer.”

  “I hear a but,” Christina said.

  He nodded. “The demands of an infant can drive a wedge between you if you’re not careful. Make time for each other. Start with kissing—no expectations for either of you. Then just holding. Again no expectations. Before you know it, the wild thing will just happen. Like anything fragile, libido needs raw material to help it grow. I suspect if you start slowly, you’ll find yourself really getting into it.”

  “You make it sound easy,” Barbara said, sighing loudly.

  “It is. Finding a window of opportunity and wedging it open is the tough part.” They all laughed.

  “How do you know so much about this?” Christina asked. “Are you married?”

  H
e shook his head. “But I have a sister who’s gone through what you are now. As a matter of fact she and her husband must have had opportunity and motive because she’s expecting her second child in a few weeks.”

  Christina laughed ruefully. “That’s going to make it darn near impossible to pry open that window of opportunity again.”

  “That’s what uncles are for.”

  “And I think we’ll stop there. Our time is up for tonight,” Liz said, looking at her watch. “Good night, ladies. See you next time. Thanks, Joe. Your advice was basic but sound. I think we forget how important touching and holding are.”

  A murmur of thanks came from the women gathering up babies, bags and belongings before they filed out.

  “That’s high praise from a tough taskmaster like you.” He looked down at her.

  “I mean every word.” She smiled and headed for the doorway. “See you around. Good night.”

  “’Night,” he said to her back.

  He liked talking to her and had hoped she’d stick around. But why should he care when she didn’t? She’d seen the downside of commitment and he’d stopped believing.

  Maybe it was for the best. Definitely for the best.

  Liz had put in an hour catching up on paperwork and was just on her way out the door when she heard her name paged. The nearest phone was at the volunteer sign-in desk. Unfortunately, so was Joe Marchetti. She was having a tough time fighting off thoughts of him that kept creeping into her head. Double whammy. An intimate conversation under the stars where his deep voice had mesmerized her. And then he hadn’t kissed her. That was a combination difficult for a cynic like her to resist. Difficult because it had become her habit to believe the worst first and ask questions later. The question was why hadn’t he made a move on her?

  Was it because his family was only a few feet away inside the house? He didn’t find her attractive? Or was he telling the truth and just wasn’t interested in a serious relationship?

  He finished signing out, then looked up. When he spotted her, a wide grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “Hi,” he said. “Didn’t they just page you?”

  “Yes,” she answered, lifting the receiver on the desk beside him. Her hand shook and she turned her back so he wouldn’t see. “Liz Anderson,” she said into the phone.

  “This is Ernie from the Office Supplies Warehouse.”

  “Please tell me my computer desk is all together in one large, attractive and ever so functional piece,” she pleaded.

  “Wish I could. But because of the sale and employees out with the flu we’re backlogged two to three weeks.”

  “Three weeks?” she cried. “My computer is scattered all over a card table and begging for a home.”

  “Sorry. We’d be happy to refund your money if you’d like to look somewhere else.”

  “No. I love that desk. It’s perfect for my decor at home. And the price is too good.” She sighed. “I’ve waited this long, I suppose another three weeks isn’t so bad.” She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around.

  “May I be of assistance?” Joe waited expectantly.

  “Hold on, Ernie,” she said into the phone. Liz stared at Joe. “What?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing. You bought a desk on sale. You’re disappointed because the assembly is delayed for three weeks. I’m volunteering to put it together.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  He frowned. “You don’t trust me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I listen between the lines,” he said.

  “It’s a major imposition,” she countered.

  “How do you know? I’m pretty handy.”

  She couldn’t help glancing at his wide, strong forearms, revealed because he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves. Beneath his white shirt, she could almost see the muscles in his upper arms, the contours of his broad chest and the harnessed strength there. If he’d been wearing jeans and a T-shirt, she could believe he was a handyman. Good with his hands. And she wasn’t thinking about assembling desks, she thought with a shiver.

  “You’re volunteering to put my desk together?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Sight unseen?”

  “I’ve seen you.” His eyes twinkled.

  “I was talking about the desk and you know it. You have no idea what it looks like or what kind of challenge it might be to put together. It could be the super deluxe model with two hutches and a top-of-the-line return.”

  “Risk is my middle name.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely, it’s what friends do,” he said. “But there’s a price.”

  Ah, she thought. Here it comes. But there was a rebellious part of her that couldn’t help getting excited about the possibility of a pass. A part of her that thought experiencing a kiss and then some with Joe Marchetti would be worth the disillusionment later.

  “A price? And that would be?”

  “You have to call for the pizza.”

  “Okay.” Relieved, she nodded and put the phone back to her ear. “Ernie?”

  “First delivery on Saturday morning is eight sharp,” Ernie answered. “Meat lovers pizza with the works and a beer should cover his tab.”

  “Thanks, Ernie,” she said laughing. She hung up the phone and turned to Joe.

  “Who’s Ernie?” he asked frowning.

  “What time can you be there on Saturday?” she asked, ignoring his question.

  “How well do you know this guy?”

  “The desk parts and instructions will be at my place at eight. If you need your beauty sleep, noon is fine with me.”

  “Seven-fifty a.m. is good. I’ll bring bagels.”

  “I thought food was my responsibility.”

  “Your responsibility is to take deliveries—desks and pizzas only. I’ll be there in time to back you up. You can’t trust guys named Ernie.” That said, he turned on his heel and exited through the lobby doors that automatically whispered open.

  “But,” she said to herself, “can you trust guys named Joe?”

  Chapter Six

  Joe closed Liz’s front door behind the delivery man and went back to the kitchen where she was making coffee. He needed it this morning and hoped it was ready now. He’d had a problem with insomnia all his life. But since meeting Liz, it seemed to have intensified. Now when he could finally fall asleep, dreams of her disturbed him.

  Getting to her place early enough for the desk arrival hadn’t been a problem. He’d been awake since around 4:00 a.m. He held back a yawn as he leaned against the center island work area and watched her gather mugs, milk and sugar.

  “Late night?” she asked.

  “Early morning,” he said. He didn’t want to share the fact that he’d been awake before God and thoughts of her kept him from going back to sleep.

  “Would you like to tell me her name?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder. Then she turned back to pour two cups of coffee.

  “There is no she,” he lied. Her name is Liz, he thought. “So that was Ernie,” he said, deflecting her. He took the cup she held out.

  Joe hadn’t liked watching her talk and joke with another guy. And it didn’t make him dance for joy that she was wearing a buttercup yellow T-shirt tucked into khaki shorts that hugged her hips and revealed her shapely legs to that guy. Not to mention her bare feet. He couldn’t say why, but her bare flesh, even in limited quantities, made everything seem so much more intimate. Subtly sexy. And it annoyed him that she wasn’t even wearing slippers when the delivery man arrived with her desk.

  “Do you need cream and sugar?” Liz asked. When he shook his head, she put artificial sweetener and a little milk in her cup. “In answer to your question, yes, that was Ernie.”

  She’d seemed awfully friendly with him on the phone. Did she like the guy? Did she want to see him again, Joe wondered. And where had that thought come from? He shook his head. Since when had he dev
eloped a jealous streak? First his brothers and now this. It was stupid. Since when was he prone to jumping to conclusions? That was Liz’s specialty.

  Although since the party at his folks, he’d cured her of that particular ailment. But her question about the name of the woman who’d gotten him up early made him wonder. Was she even the slightest bit jealous? What would she say if he told her she was the one who had cost him sleep? And he’d been unable to control his strong reaction to seeing another man in her place.

  “Okay then.” Feeling a little silly about his out-of-proportion reaction, Joe decided to change the subject. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.”

  The remark smacked of “nice weather we’re having” or “how about those Lakers,” but it was the best he could do. Besides, it was the truth. She did have a nice place.

  He’d been to her Encino home in the San Fernando Valley once before, when he’d picked her up for Stephanie’s birthday party. But then she hadn’t invited him in. She’d greeted him at the door with purse in hand and they’d left.

  “I like it,” she said, looking around her kitchen. “It’s only a year old, but I moved in when it was brand new.”

  “Wasn’t that a lot of work? Window coverings? Yards?”

  “I learned to be handy. Blinds aren’t that hard to install. And new is what I wanted. No bad history. A clean slate. Only good memories.”

  Unlike the way she grew up. He wished he could erase all the bad stuff from her slate. All that baggage got pretty heavy to carry around. And he found he very much wanted to lighten her load. But he didn’t think that was possible. At least he could show her she had nothing to fear from him. There wasn’t anything he wanted from her. At least nothing more than friendship.

  “Well, you’ve sure done a lot with the place in a year,” he said.

  They were standing on a wood floor. Shiny cream-colored tiles covered the ample counter space. The walls were painted tan with white doors and moldings. White mini-blinds hid all the windows. At the far end of the family room, there was a used-brick fireplace. In a semicircle before it sat a green-and-maroon plaid sofa, loveseat, and two wingback chairs in a coordinating shade. The room was well-decorated, but homey too. At least it felt that way to him.