for him now, and wouldn’t be until he got Carol out of his blood.
And making love to her Christmas Eve hadn’t helped.
“Well, I suppose I should think about getting dressed,” Lindy said with a heavy dose of feigned enthusiasm. “I’m going to get some boxes so Rush and I can finish up the last of the packing.”
“Where’s your new apartment?” Steve had been so preoccupied with his own troubles that he hadn’t thought to inquire until now.
As Lindy rattled off the address Steve’s forehead furrowed into a brooding frown. His sister and Rush were moving less than a mile away from Carol’s place. Great! That was the last thing he needed to hear.
Steve’s day wasn’t much better than his sleepless night had been. By noon he’d decided he could no longer avoid the inevitable. He didn’t like it, but it was necessary.
He had to talk to Carol.
He was thankful the apartment was empty when he arrived home shortly after six. Not willing to test his good fortune, and half expecting Lindy or Rush to appear at any minute, he walked directly to the phone and punched out Carol’s number as though punishing the telephone would help relieve some of his nervousness.
“Hello?” Carol’s soft, lilting voice clawed at his abdomen.
“It’s Steve.”
A pregnant pause was followed by a slightly breathless “Hi.”
“I was thinking we should talk.”
“All right.” She sounded surprised, pleased, uncertain. “When?”
Steve rotated his wrist and looked at the time. “What are you doing right now?”
She hesitated. “I … nothing.”
Although slightly awkward, their conversation to this point had felt right to Steve. But the way she paused, as though searching for a delaying tactic, troubled him. Fiery arrows of doubt hit their mark and he said, “Listen, Carol, if you’re ‘entertaining’ Todd, I’d prefer to stop by later.”
The ensuing silence was more deafening than jungle drums pounding out a war chant.
It took her several seconds to answer him, and when she did, the soft voice that had greeted him was racked with pain. “You can come now.”
Steve tightened his hold on the phone receiver in a punishing grip. He hated it when he talked to her like that. He didn’t know who he was punishing: Carol or himself. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Carol replaced the telephone in its cradle and battled down an attack of pain and tears. How dare Steve suggest Todd was there. Suddenly she was so furious with him that she could no longer stand in one place. She started pacing the living room floor like a raw recruit, taking five or six steps and then doing an abrupt about-face. And yet she was excited—even elated.
Steve had taken the initiative to contact her, and it proved that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, either.
Nothing had been right for her since Christmas Eve. Oh, she’d reached her objective—exceeded it. Everything had gone according to plan. Only Carol hadn’t counted on the doubts and bewilderment that had followed their night of loving. Their short hours together brought back the memory of how good their lives had once been, how much they’d loved each other and how happy those first years were.
Since Christmas Eve, Carol had been crippled with “if onlys” and “what ifs,” tossing around those weak phrases as though she expected them to alter reality. Each day it became more difficult to remember that Steve had divorced her, that he believed her capable of the worst kind of deception. One night in his arms and she was fool enough to be willing to forget all the pain of the past thirteen months.
Almost willing, she amended.
It took vindictive, destructive comments like the one he’d just made to remind her that they had a rocky road to travel if they hoped to salvage their relationship.
Before Steve arrived, Carol had time to freshen her makeup and run a brush through her thick blond hair. She paused to study her reflection in the mirror and wondered if he would ever guess her secret. She doubted it. If he couldn’t read the truth in her eyes about Todd, then he wasn’t likely to recognize her joy, or guess the cause.
Thinking about the baby helped lighten the weight of Steve’s bitterness. Briefly she closed her eyes and imagined holding that precious bundle in her arms. A little girl, she decided, with dark brown eyes like Steve’s and soft blond curls.
The mental picture of her child made everything seem worthwhile.
When the doorbell chimed, Carol was ready. She held the door open for Steve and even managed to greet him with a smile.
“I made coffee.”
“Good.” His answer was gruff, as though he were speaking to one of his enlisted men.
He followed her into the kitchen and stood silently as she poured them each a cup of coffee. When she turned around, she saw Steve standing with his hands in his pockets, looking unsettled and ill at ease.
“If you’re searching for traces of Todd, let me tell you right now, you won’t find any.”
He had the good grace to look mildly chagrined. “I suppose I should apologize for that remark.”
“I suppose I should accept.” She pulled out a chair and sat.
Steve claimed the one directly across from her.
Neither spoke, and it seemed to Carol that an eternity passed. “You wanted to talk to me,” she said, after what felt like two lifetimes.
“I’m not exactly sure what I want to say.”
She smiled a little at that, understanding. “I’m not sure what I want to hear, either.”
A hint of a grin bounced from his dark eyes. “Forgiving you for what happened with Todd …”
Carol bolted to her feet with such force that her chair nearly fell backward. “Forgiving me!” she demanded, shaking with outrage.
“Carol, please, I didn’t come here to fight.”
“Then don’t start one. Don’t come into my home and hurl insults at me. The one person in this room who should be seeking forgiveness is you!”
“Carol …”
“I should have known this wouldn’t work, but like a lovesick fool I thought … I hoped you …” She paused, jerked her head around and rubbed the heels of her hands down her cheeks, erasing the telltale tears.
“Okay, I apologize. I won’t mention Todd again.”
She inhaled a wobbly breath and nodded, not trusting her voice, and sat back down.
Another awkward moment followed.
“I don’t know what you’ve been thinking, or how you feel about … what happened,” Steve said, “but for the past ten days, I’ve felt like a leaf caught in a windstorm. My emotions are in turmoil … I can’t stop remembering how good it was between us, and how right it felt to have you in my arms again. My instincts tell me that night was a fluke, and best forgotten. I just wish to hell I could.”
Carol bowed her head, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. As you said when you left, we should chalk it up to the love and goodwill that’s synonymous with the season. But the holidays are over and I can’t stop thinking about it, either.”
“The loving always was terrific, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t sound as though he wanted to admit even that much, as if he preferred to discount anything positive about their lives together. Carol understood the impulse. She’d done the same thing since their divorce; it helped ease the pain of the separation.