The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,64
with greater fervor. She was breathless when they stopped and a little worried. “What are we doing?” she asked, as they stood beneath the stars of a September night, and he smiled at her.
“I think we're kissing,” he said simply. But it was much more than that, it wasn't just idle curiosity, or the hunger of two lonely bodies, it was the clear attraction that happened sometimes between a man and a woman, a meeting of minds as well as lips. There were a great many things they liked about each other, although they had already agreed that they were very different. He liked fleeting relationships of all kinds, and everything in her life was based on permanence, marriage, children, career, even her two employees had worked for her for years. There was nothing temporary in her life, and he knew that about her. It was almost a challenge to him to be different. But he wasn't sure now if he wanted to be temporary in her life either. This was a new experience for him, but she wasn't the kind of woman he usually was attracted to. “Let's take this slow,” he said to her, “and not think about it too much. Let's just see what happens.” She nodded, not sure what to say to him, or if anything more should happen.
But by the time she was in the house again, and he was gone, she was consumed by guilt over what she'd done. She felt as though she had betrayed her husband. But he's gone, she told herself, and he was never coming back. But then why did it feel so strange to be kissing Bill, and so wrong, and at the same time so exciting? It unnerved her as she thought about it, and she lay awake for a long time that night, thinking about him, and Jack, and wondering what she was doing.
And the next morning, when she woke up, tired from a long, sleepless night, she told herself that they would have to go back to their easy friendship, without adding complications to it. She felt better when she decided that, until he called her at ten o'clock that morning.
“I was thinking about you, and I thought I'd call and see how you were,” he said gently.
“I'm sorry about last night,” she said simply.
“What were you sorry about?” he asked, sounding strangely calm and more than a little happy. “I was only sorry that we didn't kiss again. That was pretty great stuff, as far as I'm concerned.”
“That's what I was afraid of. Bill … I'm not ready. …”
“I understand. No one's pushing. This is not a race. We don't have to ‘get’ anywhere. We're just there for each other.” It was a nice way to put it, and she was grateful that he didn't press her. It made her feel a little silly for being so worried.
“How about if I come and cook dinner for you and the kids on Saturday? I have a night off, and I'm a pretty fair cook. How about it?” She knew that she should turn him down, but was surprised to find she didn't want to. And what harm could there be in letting him cook for them?
“All right. I'll help you.”
“I'll bring the groceries. Is there anything special the children like?”
“Jamie will be thrilled.” And the girls would hate it, but she didn't say that. It was a good opportunity to encourage them to relax about him. They could see how harmless he was, or was he? Were they right after all that this was a potentially dangerous situation? She hated to think that. She wanted to be his friend, and she liked kissing him. But did it have to be more than that? She couldn't see why. Maybe they could just keep it to kissing. She certainly wasn't going to let it go further than that, for her own sake, not her children's.
He arrived at six o'clock on Saturday night, as promised, with three bags of groceries. He said he was going to cook them southern fried chicken, corn on the cob, and baked potatoes.
He had brought some ice cream bars too. And as he buzzed around her kitchen, he wouldn't let her help him.
“You relax,” he told her. He handed her a glass of wine, poured one for himself, and proceeded to cook them an excellent dinner. Even the girls were surprised and