When I Remember

By Sharon Edwards

He was the love of her life. And he had turned his back on her when she had needed him most. She had tried to hate him—and convinced herself that she did. So then, why was he always hovering there at the edge of her thoughts? Why did his memory haunt the deepest reaches of her heart? How could it still hurt so much after ten long years?

Born into a musical family, Cara Matthews was a child prodigy, destined for the world’s concert halls—or so her parents had planned. But Cara’s heart had led her on a different path, to David, to a love and a happiness she had always hoped for. David had understood her and allowed her to be who she really was, had been her strength and comfort. But David had had ambitions, too, casting her aside as he had pursued his own dreams, and nothing else—neither she nor a terrible loss—had seemed to matter. Were her parents right? Had he only used her as a stepping stone? In the end, had he loved himself more than he had ever loved her? But now, what was he doing—here in Paris—at her father’s concert? Why did he suddenly seem to be there, everywhere she turned? After all these years? Just when she was finally putting her life back together.

When I Remember is a tender, heart-breaking tale of the destructive power of lies, manipulation, and deception. But it is also a story of the enduring power of love, when the heart knows better...and remembers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon Edwards
• Release date: Nov 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301284610

Sharon Edwards

Please be sure to "like" Sharon Edwards Novels on Facebook and follow me on Twitter! I was born in Oak Ridge, Tennessee (not saying when), but I moved to Idaho when I was just two months old. So while I definitely consider myself an Idahoan, I do have a love for the south. I have a fascination, though, with the granite peaks and vast pine forests of the northwest, which is why I have partly located the books I have published so far in these places. I love to relax and write, gazing upon the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho, or explore the wonders of Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. All of these places are not far from where I live, and I spend as much time there as I can. I’m a wife to a wonderful man and a mother of three amazing kids—two sons and a daughter. By day, I’m a secretary at a private school, and by night and weekend, I’m always writing. My interests include music, having studied the piano and played handbells. My passion, however, since I was very small has always been writing. I believe that most writers will tell you that they always knew they wanted to be a writer. Where so many young people head off to college not at all certain what they want to study, it seems that writers have always known. A life-changing event for me occurred in sixth grade, when my teacher invited Wilson Rawls, the author of Where the Red Fern Grows, to talk to our class about his writing. My advice to anyone who wants to write is the same as Mr. Rawls’- Just keep writing! Find your voice, find your style, and be true to it. I hope you enjoy my stories, and I hope to keep entertaining you, my friends, for many years to come.

Book preview

WHEN I REMEMBER

By Sharon Edwards

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY: Sharon Edwards on Smashwords

When I Remember Copyright © 2012 by Sharon Edwards

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the authors, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, broadcast, or website.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012934700

ISBN: 978-1-935586 64-7

Cover Design & Typesetting by: Fusion Creative Works, www.fusioncw.com

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Discover other titles by Sharon Edwards:

Loving Andy

Coming Down to Earth (the sequel to Loving Andy)

*****

Dedication

For all those who mean so much to me, who reside forever in my heart, when I remember.

*****

WHEN I REMEMBER

*****

Chapter One

It was like struggling through chest-high water, muscles straining with every step, lungs heaving against the weight and aching with the effort to drag in a decent breath. Yet, it was only the familiar sounds of polite conversation, clinking glasses, and shrill laughter that filled her ears as Cara labored across the crowded room. Aimlessly setting her half-empty champagne glass on a passing tray, she murmured excuse me and excusez-moi over and over, shouldering her way as politely as she could through the sea of silk and diamonds and perfume. Her heart pounding, she set her sights on the exit door, panic threatening to overtake her. Daring just one glance behind her, she scanned the room for any glimpse of him. But there was no sign that he was following her, and her heart was buoyed by the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t recognized her.

She was taking no chances, though, as she flew down the hallway, her heels barely sinking into the deep carpeting, and through the door of the ladies’ room. Pausing in the hush of the mirrored salon, she clutched her hands against her chest, breathing deeply, fighting to get her emotions under control, grateful there was no one there to see her in such a state. But just then the door opened and two society ladies sailed into the room without one glance at her, heading for the chairs in front of the mirrors to check their makeup. Cara whirled away from them and strode into the restroom to the refuge of one of the stalls, closing and latching the door firmly behind her. With trembling hands, she covered her mouth and nose as tears filled her eyes. She just couldn’t believe it – after all these years!

She had been enjoying the reception, as she always did, slipping from one group of patrons to another, making the polite conversation with which she had become adept through years of experience. There were some faces that had become familiar from the numerous times her father had performed in Paris, but there were always new people to meet and impress, hoping for their continued support for the orchestra. And people seemed to enjoy talking with her, especially the men who appreciated her lovely face and engaging manner, no matter how put on it really was.

As always, she had sought a few moments to herself, when she could stand back and watch her father charm the crowd. He was a striking man, as all men were when they were dressed in evening wear, with his carefully groomed graying hair, piercing blue eyes, and handsome face that only seemed to grow more attractive with age. Women flocked to him, but her stepmother was firmly entrenched in his affections and had no reason to worry.

Safely ensconced in a shadowy niche while she sipped her champagne, Cara’s gaze had slowly left her father to wander around the room, lingering here and there like a butterfly flitting from one blossom to the next. She found people fascinating and enjoyed watching them when they didn’t know they were being observed, speculating on who was really behind each sophisticated mask.

Across the way she had found what she always secretly searched for – a man standing with his back to her, his dark hair worn just a little bit long, curling up on the collar of his shirt, almost inviting women to run their fingers through it. A dreamy smile had suffused her face as she had slowly dropped her eyes from his shoulders all the way down to his feet, admiring his slender physique and elegant attire. She was accustomed to seeing men dressed this way, but over the years, whenever she saw a man with hair like that, she couldn’t help the feelings that came over her. And then, as always, she had allowed her thoughts to drift back to an earlier time in her life, to a man she had once loved, and she had closed her eyes as they had misted over with sorrow, remembering the passion, aching with regret and loneliness.

She had sighed deeply, lifting her glass to take another sip as she had opened her eyes and raised them again to the man across the room. Only this time, his back hadn’t been toward her. He had been looking right at her, into her eyes, and slowly a warm smile had lit his face as he had gazed at her.

All these years, all the receptions, all the times she had seen men who made her remember, when they had turned around, they had never looked anything like him. But this time it was different. This time… it was him.

Her lips had parted in astonishment and she had tilted her head to the side as she had stared back at him, the pain in her heart so apparent in her widening eyes. The smile on his face had faded to an expression of… concern, and then he had glanced down at the glass in his hand before he had hesitantly looked up at her again.

Cara? Her fiancé, Richard, had appeared at her elbow, always hovering, always attentive. Are you all right, darling? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.

She had looked up at Richard with a start. I, uh… I’m just not feeling very well all of a sudden. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll… go powder my nose. And she had turned to make her way out of the room and away from him as fast as she could go.

Now here she was, hiding in a restroom, fighting back tears! She pulled off a length of toilet paper, dabbing delicately under her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t smudge her makeup. She felt ridiculous being this emotional after ten years! Why should she care if she saw him again? What was he to her?

The tears welled up again. Then why did she still think about him all the time? Why did men still remind her of him? Why was he always lingering … right there … in that corner of her heart?

Then she began to doubt her own eyes. Might she have been mistaken? Maybe it wasn’t him at all! Maybe that was why the poor man had looked so confused! Perhaps he hadn’t understood the shock he must have seen on her face. Or perhaps… he had only admired her… not actually recognized her.

…What in the world was he doing in Paris?

As she finally began to get her emotions under tenuous control, she realized she couldn’t hide out in the ladies’ room forever. But she also knew without a doubt when she went out through that door, he would be waiting for her. Of course, it was him. Of course, he had recognized her. It had been there… in his eyes… in his smile.

Keeping her face averted from the other women, she checked her makeup in the mirror and decided she didn’t look so bad. Then she paused, preparing herself before she opened the door.

She stepped across the threshold and stood, first glancing left, and then slowly – holding her breath – to the right. And there he was, just down the hall leaning against the wall, looking at her. She felt rooted to the spot as she watched him push away and start toward her. But just then a beautiful young woman came up behind him, taking him by the arm and pulling him gently round as she spoke to him, pressing against him as she smiled intimately into his eyes.

Cara watched as his attention was taken, as he replied to what she said to him. Seizing her opportunity, she found her feet, turned and raced to tell her father – the first one she could find – that she was leaving. Then she retrieved her wrap from the coatroom and fled out a side door to her waiting limousine. Sinking into the seat, she watched through the protection of the tinted window as the driver pulled away. She saw him come out through the door to stand there, watching her car move swiftly down the alley and out into the Paris traffic. Slowly she turned around, settling back into the seat with a sigh of relief. Then she looked out, trying to concentrate on the amber-lit buildings as they streaked past the window, gazing absently up at the Eiffel Tower as they approached her hotel.

She was ready when the door was opened, leaping from the limo and flying up the steps to the lobby. She marched directly to the elevator, huddling into the corner at the back, staring down silently until she reached her floor. Opening the door to her suite, she went in and closed it firmly behind her, locking it, finally able to breathe again. She fumbled with the buttons as she walked stiffly through the dimly lit salon into the bedroom, removing her coat and flinging it in the darkness onto the bed.

Moving to the window, she parted the curtains and looked out, intending to take in the view of the city lights, but seeing instead… his wonderful… handsome face. Her heart swelled, aching in her breast, and she clenched her jaw angrily as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Why did she still think of him? Why? She hated him – hated him with every fiber of her being! She realized that now after seeing him again. Hated him for leaving her. Hated him for deserting her at the worst moment of her life, for throwing her love for him back in her face!

She lifted her arms, groping blindly with her hands until she found the casement on either side of her, holding on for dear life as she slowly dropped her head, breaking into sobs.

How she hated him! Hated him... hated him... loved him so much!

Chapter Two

There occur those breathless moments in life when the great wheel of time seems to pause in its turning, and the yawning gulf of the future falls away at our feet. It had been such a moment when he had dropped into her life – literally…

She had no idea what a lovely picture she made sitting at the foot of that giant oak in the waning amber light of that autumn afternoon. Nor had she any idea someone might be watching her. It was so calm and peaceful, sapphire sky arching above and golden leaves drifting down all around her. Her eyebrows knit together as she struggled to decide which information to commit to memory from the plethora of facts in her archaeology text. Shaking her head, she wondered why she was even taking this class – she was a music major, after all! Certainly, Cynthia had questioned that. But she smiled. She adored archaeology –and she was so lucky to have this chance. There was just so much to learn! Taking a huge bite from her apple, she determinedly refocused her concentration on the words before her.

And precisely at that moment, he arrived – flopping down onto his side with a thud, stretched out on the ground in front of her. Resting his head on his hand, he gifted her with his cheesiest grin. You’re in my advanced composition class! he exclaimed.

She stared at him with astonishment, then looked him over from head to foot and back again while she slowly chewed and finally swallowed. Is that an announcement? she questioned uneasily as she began to gather up her books and stuff them into her bag.

He sat up, leaning close to her, smiling into her eyes. You noticed me there! Didn’t you?

She was amazed at his audacity and slowly shook her head as she recalled how pompously he participated in class discussion. Well… it would be a little hard not to notice you, she replied, but… not too tough to ignore you.

Why? Because I challenge Professor Dietrich’s outmoded ideas? Why don’t you?

Her mouth hung open for a moment. Because … I don’t want to, she replied softly.

But you wonder, don’t you? He held her eyes with his challenging tone. I’ve seen it in your face – that you’re intrigued, that you long for something more creative than those stupid principles they foist on us!

Okay … this guy was out there. Great music – inspiring, soaring classical compositions – had been the center of her life since the day she had been born. The great masters – works that had stood the test of time. Who did this guy think he was?

Having no idea what to say in reply, she leaped to her feet, picked up her bag and headed purposefully across the quad toward the parking lot. He jumped up to follow her.

Hey, have dinner with me tonight! he demanded.

She glanced at him incredulously. Sorry – I’m expected at home.

Tomorrow night, then! he insisted.

She laughed awkwardly as she simply shook her head, relieved that her car was in sight.

He stopped then, watching her with a grin as she continued down the sidewalk. See you in class tomorrow! he called to her.

I suppose I don’t have a choice! she threw back at him over her shoulder.

With a bemused smile, he followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight. He had noticed her right away with her long, lustrous dark hair and hazel eyes, watching her as she concentrated on what the professor said, scribbling notes and taking it all so seriously. But she wasn’t like most of the other girls who flocked around him. She obviously had a low opinion of him, and wouldn’t he thoroughly enjoy changing that!

And besides… there was something about her that had nearly overwhelmed him when he had looked into her eyes just now. A gentle poignancy, a quiet tenderness like he had never known before.

Something deep inside him told him to run. But something even deeper told him to run … after her. He paused there for a moment, teetering between the two voices… deciding to listen to the second one.

Cara parked her car next to the curb, striding along the flagstones and bouncing up the steps to the porch of their rented turn-of-the-century Queen Anne only to discover that she was the only one home. Carelessly tossing her bag onto the couch in the parlor, she sat at the grand piano in front of a lace-swathed bay window, going through her scales and the classical pieces her teacher had assigned. Two hours flew quickly by before she grew tired of it and went into the kitchen, taking a soda from the fridge. Then she saw her stepmother’s note tacked to the bulletin board that she and her father would be dining with the university president that evening and she had left food for them in the refrigerator.

She smiled. It appeared she could have had dinner with him! Gag! She laughed at herself for even thinking that. And then she realized with tremendous relief the note did not indicate she was expected to join them. She took her soda out to the shady patio and sat down in a padded rattan chair, putting her feet up on another one as her eyes took in the riotous beds of flowers and well-manicured lawn. And – almost reluctantly – she thought about him. She guessed that was okay as long as he never knew about it. She would hate to give him the satisfaction. It wasn’t true that he had been easy to ignore in class. She had tried, but the way he argued with the professor had been so startling … and intriguing … she hadn’t been able to help herself. As she slid her finger slowly around the top of the soda can, she mused on the way his blue eyes sparkled and the thick shock of black hair that flopped down across his forehead… and that enthralling smile as he had leaned in close to her. And she realized how dangerous he was.

Her father and stepmother had spent her life drumming it into her that she was gifted, she was a prodigy, she was meant for the stage. That they expected her to wait a long time to have a man in her life. She had attended Saturday classes at Juilliard for several years when her father had been concertmaster with the New York Philharmonic, and they had had every intention of her continuing her studies there after high school. But she had grown weary of that demanding lifestyle, wanting a break, wanting to go to a regular college and attend regular classes. They might have had their plans, but she secretly wasn’t so sure she wanted to be a concert pianist – she just didn’t know how to break it to her parents. So when her father had accepted a visiting professorship, she had convinced him to allow her to attend classes at the university, and, she thought wistfully, to live halfway normally… at least for a while. And she had really been enjoying it, except that she still lived at home. She would have loved the new experience of living in a dorm with other girls and breaking out on her own a little, making her own decisions.

She looked around with a sigh. Still, this was probably better than the rigors of Juilliard might have been.

Just then, she heard the front screen door slam and grinned, listening as she heard the predictable sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing. She jumped when her brother, Alex, sneaked up behind her and planted a kiss on her cheek, saying, Hey, little sis! She smiled at him as he flopped into a chair across from her, slapping his tennis racket onto the top of the table and twisting open the beer in his hand.

Her jaw dropped as she watched him. Dad’s gonna kill you if you drink up his beer!

Oh, he won’t miss one, he grinned at her, taking a long draft and swallowing with a loud sigh.

How was the tennis match?

Piece of cake! he replied jauntily, raising his hands. But what would you expect?

She laughed at him. Ever the humble competitor, she teased.

Yep! he agreed. Where is everybody?

Cynthia left a note that they’re having dinner with the President, she replied with a little smile.

He grimaced, ducking his head. Yikes! That was a close one! Glad I wasn’t around! They had commiserated before about how much they disliked being forced to join in these little soirées. Well – he said, jumping to his feet, I’m going up to take a shower.

Cara rose, following him into the house and calling after him as he bounded up the stairs. Cynthia left dinner for us in the fridge. Do you want me to warm some up for you?

He poked his head out of the bathroom. Nope! I’m going out!

Okay, she smiled up at him. Then she turned and walked out of his sight. He watched her go, feeling bad because he knew that meant she would be having dinner alone.

Putting a spoonful of Cynthia’s casserole on a plate, Cara covered it with a paper towel and warmed it in the microwave. Then she took a handful of salad from a bag, pouring ranch dressing over it. She was sitting at the table, studying her archaeology while she ate when Alex appeared again at the kitchen door.

Leaving now! he announced.

Have fun! she smiled skeptically.

Sure will! he grinned, lifting an eyebrow rakishly. Back later!

She turned back to her book and he gazed at her again, thinking what a crappy deal she had, especially after the pressures their parents had put on her all her life. He was lucky – he had been just a normal kid. He considered asking her if she wanted to go with him, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted his little sister hanging around. He didn’t like the way some guys treated the girls at these parties, and he didn’t want her watching as he made a few moves of his own. He wasn’t as bad as some, but that was better kept from her. Besides, he sure didn’t want guys going after his pretty sister, either. So he backed away without another word, heading out the door without another thought.

She had almost finished her dinner when the phone rang. She grinned as she recognized her friend Susan’s voice on the other end of the line.

There’s a party! Susan chirped.

What kind of party? Cara questioned uneasily.

Just a party! Susan replied. Come with us! We’ll pick you up in five!

Cara hesitated, taking a deep breath and biting her lip. Okay! she gave in breathlessly, thinking she might regret this, but deciding to take a chance anyway.

Throwing the rest of her dinner in the trash, she put the dishes into the dishwasher, and ran up the stairs to change. She tried three tops before she decided on one, touching up her makeup and hair and running back down the stairs when she heard the doorbell. Then leaving a note for her parents, she ran out to the car with Susan and jumped into the back seat with two other girls.

She was a little relieved to see the party wasn’t being held at a frat house – she’d heard about those. But this was a private residence, and she had no idea who lived there. It was an impressive home – rather old world with ivy-covered stone and leaded windows on one of the shady, upscale lanes around the university, just a few streets from the home her parents were renting for the year.

She pulled Susan back as they headed up the walk to the front door, saying, Are you sure this is okay? Whose house is this?

How should I know! Susan exclaimed. For goodness’ sake – come on!

With a sigh of surrender, she followed the other girls inside, looking about, wide-eyed and uncertain. Her gaze sank to the floor under the speculative scrutiny of some boys lounging against the wall in the foyer. One of them blew a languid stream of cigarette smoke at her as she passed him by. But what greeted her when she walked into the living room was beyond all her experience. It took a few moments for her eyes to become accustomed to the subdued lighting, but slowly the seething movement before her morphed into a mass of people, undulating to the loud, pulsing beat of the music. She coughed and squinted in the smoke, waving her hand around her face.

Her father would be so disappointed in her. And her step-mother … her mouth went dry.

A cute guy approached her, shoving a beer at her and offering her a cigarette. She took the beer because she didn’t know what else to do, but refused the cigarette. Then he grabbed her hand, pulling her into the crowd to dance, and she smiled uneasily at him as she moved to the beat. He grinned down at her, liking what he saw and letting her know it with his eyes. And she stared at his chest uncomfortably, pushing away from him when he put his arms around her, getting a little too friendly for her taste.

At the first opportunity, she set the beer down, looking around with trepidation as she saw people making out in every corner, her friends becoming drunker by the minute, and the dancing getting raunchier. Overwhelmed and out of her league, she wondered how she could find a way out of that place! Then she saw him across the way – the guy from this afternoon – standing with a group of boys, grinning at her. She spun around, forcing her way across the room, hoping he wouldn’t follow her.

I think you’re a little early for class! someone shouted in her ear, and she turned with a start, looking up him with dismay. They were playing a slow song, so with a grin, he pulled her into his arms. She put her hands firmly against his chest, warning him with her eyes to keep his distance.

Thought you said you had to be home for dinner.

I did, she replied. But it turned out – they went out. They were having dinner with the university president.

Oo-oo! he said, looking appropriately awed. So how come you didn’t go?

I wasn’t invited, she replied resentfully.

Glad to hear it! he grinned, watching as she looked away. Haven’t seen you at one of these before.

Her expression grew somber and she glanced around uncertainly. I haven’t been to one before.

He watched her as she stared fearfully at everything going on around her, and he was surprised at the compassion he suddenly felt and the intense desire to take care of her.

A couple of guys a little ways from them began cursing and shoving each other, bumping into the people next to them. He swung her away to keep her from being hit, shielding her with his body as he shouted, Hey, you guys! Take it easy!

But those who had been bumped were in no mood for it, and a fight broke out in earnest. Guys yelled and girls screamed, and the consequent jostling had a domino effect in the crowded space, knocking people down across the room. Tables and lamps toppled over, shattering wood and glass. Tempers flared and retaliatory punches were thrown by some who weren’t even involved in the original fracas.

Cara stood frozen, a terrified expression on her face at the sickening sound of flesh and bone beating into flesh and bone until he grabbed her by the arm to yank her out of the way of bodies flying toward her, and finally, out the front door. Halfway down the sidewalk, she wrenched her arm from his grasp and headed back toward the house.

Are you crazy? he exclaimed.

But my friends are in there! she cried.

Well, they’re going to have to take care of themselves, because I’m not letting you go back in there! he said adamantly, grasping her arm again, looking her straight in the eyes.

She stared at him with dismay. Then she glanced back toward the house, wringing her hands, certain she had caught a glimpse of Alex in there.

Come on, he said more gently. We’ve gotta get out of here. The cops may be coming.

Surrendering tearfully, she let him lead her out to his car. As they pulled away from the curb, she started to cry, turning to stare back at the house as they went down the street, scared to death about what could be happening to Alex. He drove a couple blocks and then pulled the car over, taking her hand in his as he listened to her crying softly in the darkness.

I’m sorry, he said quietly.

It’s not your fault, she sobbed.

It could have been, he admitted. If you’d come out with me like I asked you before, that’s where I would have taken you. I guess at least this way, I can honestly say I was able to get you out of there instead. Look – I’m sure your friends will be okay. Nobody wants to beat up girls, after all.

It’s not just my friends, she gasped. I think I saw my brother in there!

He ran a hand through his hair, then rested it on the steering wheel, considering for a moment. Then he put the car in gear, turning it around and heading back toward the house. He pulled over just across the street, watching the scene intently. The fight had spilled out the door and was now continuing on the front lawn.

Do you see him? he asked.

She peered past him through the window, searching about with desperate eyes. She was relieved to see her friends piling into their car and speeding off down the street. And finally, she spotted Alex stumbling across the lawn, blood streaming from his nose.

Alex! There he is! she cried, pointing with one hand and covering her mouth with the other.

He opened the door, running across the street to grab Alex up with an arm around his waist, helping him back to the car. Cara held the door to the back seat so that Alex could climb inside. Then she ran back around to the passenger side, climbing in as he put the car in gear and sped down the street. Behind them, they could hear the blare of sirens and see the flashing lights as the police began to show up, having been alerted to the fight by nervous neighbors.

Oh, Alex! Cara cried, shocked and anguished at the sight of blood on the front of his shirt, anxiously leaning across the seat to hand him a wad of tissues she had taken from a box she had found on the floor.

Alex grabbed the tissues from her hand, pressing them to his nose as he looked at her angrily. What are you doing here? he demanded.

It was like a slap in the face and combined with the terror she still felt, it caused her to snap. Saving your ungrateful butt, you jerk! she yelled at him, flinging the tissue box at him, hitting him on the head.

Hey! he said gently, putting a hand comfortingly on her arm as she and Alex glared at each other. It’s okay – it’s over now. Let’s just get you guys home.

Cara spun in her seat, flopping herself back and crossing her arms angrily. Clenching her jaw, she muttered the address and the directions to their house. She was relieved to see their parents weren’t home yet. Without a word, Alex leaped from the car, striding angrily up the sidewalk.

Cara opened her door, intending to go after him, calling out, Don’t you want some help, Alex?

No! he threw back at her over his shoulder. Leaping up onto the porch and throwing the door open, he disappeared inside.

Cara’s eyes were filled with hurt and rejection as she slowly walked along the flagstones to the porch, aware that he was there, walking beside her. They climbed the steps together and she turned reluctantly to face him as he leaned against the post at the top.

He gazed at her crestfallen face for a moment, then said quietly, He’ll be okay – bruised up a little, I’m sure, but he’ll heal. Right now, he’s more upset that you were there. He feels like it was a dangerous situation – and he’s right. You’re important to him, and he doesn’t want you hurt.

I know, she sighed. But it wasn’t a good place for him to be either! Who does he think he is, being upset with me!

He smiled. He’s a protective big brother with a beautiful little sister. Better get used to it.

She looked away embarrassed, then slowly raised her eyes back up to him. He was watching her with a warm smile that slowly faded away as he held her eyes with his, the expression in them becoming more intense as he dropped his gaze to her mouth. Her eyes widened and she looked away again uncomfortably, even though she supposed what he was thinking was probably small enough reward for what he had done for them tonight. She watched his feet step toward her and felt his hand under her chin. She had wondered what her first kiss would be like, but she had never expected it would come from such a self-centered, pompous jerk. She had assumed it would be someone she felt drawn to, maybe even was in love with – not just someone to whom she felt grudgingly grateful.

As he lifted her chin, she looked defiantly into his eyes, assuming she would find a smug expression on his face. Instead, she was surprised and almost fascinated by the tenderness she saw there. She watched as he leaned toward her, expecting him to suddenly claim her with a grasping, possessive kiss in keeping with what she thought of him. She was unprepared for the gentle, tender way his lips clung to hers – completely unprepared for the briefness of the kiss. And as she felt him pulling away, she was horrified to find herself leaning forward slightly, not wanting, in spite of herself, for it to end quite so soon. When her eyes fluttered open, he was smiling with amusement.

She swallowed, jerking her eyes away. Then looking back at him a little resentfully, she said softly, I don’t even know your name.

He grinned and replied, David. David Mackenzie. Then he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward her. And you are?

She pursed her lips with amusement. Cara Matthews, she replied.

He grasped her right hand with his. Well, it’s nice to … kiss you, Cara Matthews, he said with a provocative smile. She returned the smile uncomfortably and looked away again as he said, I think your brother might actually need your help, so I’ll say goodnight now.

He turned and started down the steps, and she turned her thoughts to Alex, saying absently, just for something to say, See you in class.

I suppose I don’t have a choice! he threw back at her with a grin. Her eyes flew up to him, then with a little smile she watched him walk down the sidewalk toward his car. After he drove away she turned and went into the house, making an ice bag and slowly climbing the stairs to see how Alex was doing. She stood at the bathroom door, watching him as he cleaned up his face.

Are you okay, Alex?

Yeah, he sighed. "I don’t think it’s broken, but there sure will be some explaining to do in the morning when