joined together.
They had been together several times, each time more exciting than the rest. Still, as his lips met hers, she realized that this time was very different. There was something decidedly tender in the way he held her, the way he claimed her. His lips trailed over her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. Afterward, as she lay beside him, she realized that what had begun as an adventure was no longer a game.
She was in love with Joe Gates.
She wasn't sure when it had happened or why. All she knew was that it was true. Somewhere in the midst of her sexual discovery, she had done the worst thing possible. She risked a glance at the sleeping man who had unwittingly stolen her heart. He tightened the hold on her waist subconsciously.
How had a fling become so important?
And what would she do when that fling suddenly ended?
* * * *
A noise from downstairs jolted her awake. She glanced around the room to find it empty. She sat up, pulling the sheet over her bare breasts. Sunlight crept through the lace curtain on the window. She slid out of bed as she spotted a white dress shirt hanging on the bedpost. Pulling it over her shoulders, she fastened several buttons to keep it together. After a quick brushing out of her hair with her fingers, she crept out into the hallway. She could hear sounds coming from downstairs as she slowly descended to the lower level.
She walked through the dining room, the wood cold on her bare feet, as she moved toward the kitchen. Panic crept up her spine as she realized that the man sitting at the kitchen table was not Joe. His gray hair was slightly mussed, and he held a newspaper up in front of him. She started to turn to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“Hello.”
She turned to face him. “Hello,” she replied.
He offered her a warm smile. “Do I know you?” he asked as he pushed his glasses further up on his nose.
“No, I'm Mara,” she answered, self-consciously gripping the hem of Joe's shirt to pull it down farther.
He put his paper down to cross the room to where she stood holding out a hand to her. “I'm James. It's nice to meet you.”
She shook his hand as an uncomfortable silence settled between them. His eyes swept over her nearly naked state. She waited for the frown of disapproval, but it never came.
“Are you here for breakfast?” he asked.
Before she could answer, he motioned for her to sit next to him at the island in the middle of the kitchen. He picked up his newspaper and began to read. She stared at him for a moment, feeling increasingly awkward.
“Have you seen Joe?” she inquired.
He tilted his paper down to peer over it. “Joe? No, I don't believe that I have.”
She heard the front door open and close and turned on the barstool. Ellen walked into the kitchen, her hair pulled into a loose bun at her nape. She offered Mara a welcoming smile as she walked over to put an arm around his shoulder.
He turned to face her, his confusion clear. “Do I know you?” he asked.
Mara frowned at the odd comment.
Ellen laughed as she replied, “Well, I sure hope so, handsome, because we have a date to go to the library today. Now, go get your jacket so we can head out.”
He grinned like a little boy as he got to his feet and left the room. Ellen stared after him for a moment before turning to face Mara.
“Funny how as we get older we become more and more like the children we started out as. We didn't get a proper introduction last night. My name is Ellen Butterman.”
Mara reached over to clasp the other woman's hand in hers. “Mara Templeton,” she returned.
Ellen nodded. “I know. Joe told me. I'd swear that boy is a saint with the way he takes care of his grandfather. I sure hope I have someone like him who loves me enough to take care of me when I get to be that age.”
“So you help take care of him?”
Ellen offered a smile. “I'm here when Joe needs me,” she replied.
Mara's eyebrows drew together. “What about his parents? What
They had been together several times, each time more exciting than the rest. Still, as his lips met hers, she realized that this time was very different. There was something decidedly tender in the way he held her, the way he claimed her. His lips trailed over her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead. Afterward, as she lay beside him, she realized that what had begun as an adventure was no longer a game.
She was in love with Joe Gates.
She wasn't sure when it had happened or why. All she knew was that it was true. Somewhere in the midst of her sexual discovery, she had done the worst thing possible. She risked a glance at the sleeping man who had unwittingly stolen her heart. He tightened the hold on her waist subconsciously.
How had a fling become so important?
And what would she do when that fling suddenly ended?
* * * *
A noise from downstairs jolted her awake. She glanced around the room to find it empty. She sat up, pulling the sheet over her bare breasts. Sunlight crept through the lace curtain on the window. She slid out of bed as she spotted a white dress shirt hanging on the bedpost. Pulling it over her shoulders, she fastened several buttons to keep it together. After a quick brushing out of her hair with her fingers, she crept out into the hallway. She could hear sounds coming from downstairs as she slowly descended to the lower level.
She walked through the dining room, the wood cold on her bare feet, as she moved toward the kitchen. Panic crept up her spine as she realized that the man sitting at the kitchen table was not Joe. His gray hair was slightly mussed, and he held a newspaper up in front of him. She started to turn to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“Hello.”
She turned to face him. “Hello,” she replied.
He offered her a warm smile. “Do I know you?” he asked as he pushed his glasses further up on his nose.
“No, I'm Mara,” she answered, self-consciously gripping the hem of Joe's shirt to pull it down farther.
He put his paper down to cross the room to where she stood holding out a hand to her. “I'm James. It's nice to meet you.”
She shook his hand as an uncomfortable silence settled between them. His eyes swept over her nearly naked state. She waited for the frown of disapproval, but it never came.
“Are you here for breakfast?” he asked.
Before she could answer, he motioned for her to sit next to him at the island in the middle of the kitchen. He picked up his newspaper and began to read. She stared at him for a moment, feeling increasingly awkward.
“Have you seen Joe?” she inquired.
He tilted his paper down to peer over it. “Joe? No, I don't believe that I have.”
She heard the front door open and close and turned on the barstool. Ellen walked into the kitchen, her hair pulled into a loose bun at her nape. She offered Mara a welcoming smile as she walked over to put an arm around his shoulder.
He turned to face her, his confusion clear. “Do I know you?” he asked.
Mara frowned at the odd comment.
Ellen laughed as she replied, “Well, I sure hope so, handsome, because we have a date to go to the library today. Now, go get your jacket so we can head out.”
He grinned like a little boy as he got to his feet and left the room. Ellen stared after him for a moment before turning to face Mara.
“Funny how as we get older we become more and more like the children we started out as. We didn't get a proper introduction last night. My name is Ellen Butterman.”
Mara reached over to clasp the other woman's hand in hers. “Mara Templeton,” she returned.
Ellen nodded. “I know. Joe told me. I'd swear that boy is a saint with the way he takes care of his grandfather. I sure hope I have someone like him who loves me enough to take care of me when I get to be that age.”
“So you help take care of him?”
Ellen offered a smile. “I'm here when Joe needs me,” she replied.
Mara's eyebrows drew together. “What about his parents? What
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