He looked over at her. She’d pulled her robe across herself in a belated attempt at modesty before she fell asleep, but one rose-tipped breast had escaped its cover. He considered the possibilities. Tempting, but he was thirty-two, not sixteen. Enough was enough—for now.
His eyes roamed the room. It looked different somehow. Those creepy naked statues, the ones that always made him uneasy, were missing from the entrance to Reverend Ed’s study. Had she sold them? He was more convinced than ever that Laurel was having money troubles. The economy had been down lately, and maybe her father had lost a bundle in the stock market or gotten sucked into a Ponzi scheme. Life could be hard without money, he knew, but at least he’d never had to keep up appearances.
He glanced around the big room again. In the bright light of day, he could see details he’d missed before. The place looked downright shabby.
Maybe he could help her out, loan her money to get the house back in shape. Hell—he’d give her the money. But she wouldn’t take it, he knew, not after last night. It would seem like payment for services rendered.
He recovered his trousers from the den and returned to the front room to awaken Laurel by running his hand down her shoulder. “Rise and shine, sweetheart. We need to do some serious grocery shopping.”
She yawned, and sat up. Taking both her hands, he helped her to her feet, growled, and nipped at her neck.
“If I’m not fed at regular intervals, I get ver-r-r-y hungr-r-r-y.”
She yipped appropriately and drew her robe on the rest of the way. He draped his arm over her shoulder as they walked up the stairs.
*
Laurel looked at the family portraits along the way, wondering what her forebears would have said about their naked romp. The girls were smiling at her, but their mother seemed disapproving. Why? Even Victorians had sex. In fact, from what she’d read, they were obsessed with it.
Upstairs, she slipped into a wide-necked tee and a colorful cotton skirt while Jase buttoned his shirt and rolled up the sleeves to accommodate the weather, but he didn’t bother to tuck in the tail.
With the day as hot as it was, Laurel wished she could get up the nerve to wear shorts to the store. There were a few pairs stuck in the back of her bottom drawer, leftovers from high school physical education classes that might still fit, but not wearing them had somehow become a way of honoring her mother’s memory.
On the other hand, Mama used to pull on pantyhose whenever she went out, which Laurel could never imagine doing. Times change. Maybe someday she’d try wearing shorts in public and see if the world would come to an end. But not today.
She sat down at her dressing table. Sunscreen, lipstick, her favorite gold hoops in her ears, and she was ready. As she gave herself a final check, posing in front of the cheval mirror in the corner, Jase moved behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She smiled at their reflection.
Was it true that some mirrors could retain images forever?
*
Fifteen minutes and one long shopping list later, they were in the car. Jase backed Laurel’s Escort out of the garage, turned it around in the brick-paved parking area, and drove to the edge of the street to ease his way into the traffic.
A redheaded woman in white capris and a yellow tank top was playing three-sided catch with two boys in the front yard across the street, while an even younger boy, a carrottop like she was, clung to her leg. She looked vaguely familiar. Damn. What was her name?
He nodded in the mystery woman’s direction. “That woman over there—she looks like someone I used to know, but I can’t place her.”
Laurel froze and her voice turned brittle. “Sarah Edelman. She used to be Sarah Bridges. She was All-District in softball.”
“Yeah, now I remember.” Sarah Bridges was also a cheerleader and played the lead in the class play. In fact, she did pretty much everything in Bosque Bend High School that Laurel didn’t do. Between the two of them, they had the school all sewn up. He made the turn and gave Laurel a questioning glance. “You two hung out together all the time. Wasn’t she your best friend?”
“I guess so.” Laurel stared down at her hands, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Well, what happened? I mean, she stared at us for a second there, then looked away. Y’all have a fight or something?”
Laurel tossed her hair in an I-don’t-care gesture.
“I guess we grew apart. She married a doctor and lives in Austin now. They have three children. Eric, the eldest, is my godson. Then there’s Luke and—and…I don’t know the name of the youngest.” She smiled—a little too brightly. “It’s hard to keep up with everyone.”