He cleared his throat and she turned around. “Did you forget something?”
She was Maori.
Unable to speak for the crushing disappointment, Mark shook his head and backed out of the room. In the corridor he picked up his pace until he was running, heedless, through clusters of students.
A car horn honked in warning as he jumped off the curb and ran along the gutter because people weren’t moving fast enough. Only when Mark reached the park did he stop, doubling over to catch his breath. His disappointment was matched by his enormous relief.
“HALLELUJAH, you’re finally going out.” Holding a bag of peaches, Katherine Freedman stood on Devin’s doorstep and sniffed him appreciatively. “Look hot and smell gorgeous … it must be a woman.”
Resigned, Devin opened the door wider and gestured her in, leading the way to the open-plan kitchen. “Okay, who told you?” Five-thirty on a Saturday evening was not the time to be delivering peaches.
“Bob Harvey at the ferry office happened to mention you’d booked in a 7:00 p.m. vehicle crossing. As luck would have it I’m also heading over, for dinner and a meeting with the Coronary Club. How about a lift from the ferry building into town?”
In the kitchen, Devin accepted the bag of peaches and tipped them into the fruit bowl with all the others, unsettling the fruit flies. “You’re not meeting her, Mom, and I’m taking the bike.”
“You think I can’t straddle a Harley?”
“You still look good in leather,” he conceded, “and I guess a helmet hides the wrinkles.”
She picked up a peach and threw it at him, but Devin was expecting it and made a neat catch.
“Fortunately for you,” she continued, “I’m going across with Susan, so you won’t have to think up an excuse not to take me.” She tut-tutted, eyeing the fruit bowl. “You should probably stew those.”
“Yeah, because I’m a ‘bottling preserves’ kind of guy.” Devin poured her a cold drink, then turned to find her rifling through the kitchen drawers. When she pulled out a chopping board and a paring knife, he took them away from her. “And I don’t need to think up excuses. I’m perfectly comfortable telling you to mind your own business. Shouldn’t you be going home to get ready?”
“Unlike you, I can be ready in five minutes.” Katherine took the utensils back. “Now find me a pot.” Perching on a bar stool at the marble-topped island, she started peeling and chopping peaches straight out of the fruit bowl. His mom never sprayed her trees and there were spots of brown rot on some. Devin shook his head as she carefully pared away the good flesh before discarding the rest.
Only a couple of months earlier he’d thought he would lose her. “You’ve got a big birthday coming up.” He found the pot she wanted and placed it at her elbow. “How would you like to celebrate?”
“Quietly.” Katherine tipped the peaches she’d already sliced into the pot. “I intend staying sixty-nine for at least another four years.”
Devin got the compost bucket she had insisted he buy, and cleared away the discarded peelings. “So dinner at the island’s best restaurant with your son sound okay?”
Katherine didn’t answer. Glancing over, he caught her pensive look. “No big deal if you’ve already made plans with girlfriends.”
“Let me get back to you on that. So tell me all about your date.” Katherine dropped the knife and gripped her thumb. Blood welled above her nail. “Bother!”
Grabbing a paper towel, Devin wrapped it around her thumb, then guided her to the sink, where he rinsed the cut and inspected it. “Nothing a bandage won’t fix.” He found the first aid kit, dug around for the right size and handed it to her.
“Your date?” she prompted.
“Technically it’s not a date.” No woman had ever insisted on platonic before.
“Really?” Katherine finished applying the bandage and looked up. “What is it then?”
Devin started to laugh. “Deluded.”
You’d have thought a smart woman like Rachel would know better. Nothing could have stoked his interest more than her No Trespass sign. If the librarian had been genuinely indifferent, Devin could have accepted it, but she wasn’t. The kiss had proved that. And the challenge inherent in her nonnegotiable decree … what kind of wuss would he be if he let the gauntlet lie?
Katherine rinsed her other hand, still sticky with peach juice. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally met a nice girl,” she said hopefully.
“I’m not telling you anything,” he reminded her.
“Spoilsport. In that case I might as well go.”
“What about the peaches?” he teased.
She poked her tongue out at him. “I know you’ll throw them out as soon as my back’s turned so give them to me. I’ll finish stewing them at home.” Drying her hands on a tea towel, she added, “Have you heard from Zander lately?”
Devin stopped smiling. “No.” When he’d raised the subject of financial anomalies, his big brother had cut the phone call short. Since then Zander hadn’t returned any messages.
“Careful with those peaches, Dev,” Katherine protested. “You’ll bruise them.”
He slowed the tumble of peaches from the fruit bowl into the bag, and glanced at her. “So, how is he?” While Zander rarely initiated contact, Katherine kept the relationship going by phone.
“I can’t seem to get hold of him lately.” She busied herself searching in her bag for her car keys, which Devin could plainly see near the top. “But he must be terribly busy arranging the new tour.”
Running scared more like, if he was avoiding even Katherine’s phone calls.
“I’m sure he’ll phone soon,” he told her.
“Oh, I’m not worried.”
Which meant she was. Unfortunately, the mounting evidence suggested his brother had been siphoning off more than his share of royalties on the early songs they’d cowritten. But surely Zander trusted Devin not to involve Katherine? Damn it, this situation was getting more and more complicated. On impulse Devin kissed his mother goodbye, something he rarely did. “Have a great night.”
For a moment Katherine looked startled, then she patted his cheek. “You, too … and I expect to hear all about it.” On those ominous words she left.
All going well, he reflected as he closed the front door behind her, the evening’s activities wouldn’t be fit for maternal ears. Checking his watch, Devin calculated time zones, then rang Zander’s cell and left another message: “Call your mother!”
Then he finished getting ready for his date, turning his mind to more pleasurable thoughts. Like teaching the librarian to forgo restraint, caution and common sense in favor of spontaneity, recklessness and instant gratification. And that was even before they reached her unmade bed. Her so-called vice perfectly complemented the only one he had left.
Sex.
CHAPTER NINE
RACHEL DIDN’T WANT to be nervous.
It made the evening ahead feel too much like a date.
Which it wasn’t.
Peering past the mottled green patches in the antique oval mirror on her dresser, she applied a shocking pink lipstick and decided she was satisfied with her appearance. She wore a tight-fitting fifties cocktail dress of pink crepe