Cobwebs

By Bobbi LaChance

Portland, Maine 1979

Susan Moore is a blond twenty-eight year old freelance writer. After following assignments across the United States, she decided to settle in Portland. A year ago, she met her best friend Diana at a fundraiser for Maine Medical Center, and they quickly develop a sisterly bond.

On Susans morning jog on the Eastern Prom, she finds herself being appraised by a pair of cornflower blue eyes and a charming smile that belong to a man named Aaron. Thinking this is a onetime occurrence, Susan flirts before dismissing him as she continues her run. When she reports to her volunteer position at a local youth center the next day, she is introduced to social worker Mike Larkin, who both antagonizes and intrigues her.

A second chance meeting brings Aaron and his dog Bear into her life. Susan is quickly drawn to both men for different reasons: Aaron is laidback, patient, and witty, and his boyish charm fascinates her. Mike is possessive and controlling, and he is constantly trying to lure her into his bed, but she is also attracted to his softer side.

As life throws her one curveball after another, she struggles to deal with the changes wrought within her life and soothe her emotional turbulence. With which man will Susan choose to entrust her heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468551679

Bobbi LaChance

Bobbi LaChance currently resides in Auburn, Maine with her husband, Richard, formerly a mechanical engineer, her guide dog, Honora, and her Maine Coon cat, Sassy. Her other books include: Wishes, published in 2009, and Cobwebs published in 2012. A note to visually impaired readers: both are available through BookShare. Today, Bobbi is currently involved in conducting volunteer work in her community. She is a member of the Maine chapter of the Romance Writers of America and an officer of a nonprofit organization called Behind Our Eyes. Behind Our Eyes is responsible for assisting fledgling writers in developing the skills of their craft. Some of Bobbi’s passions include reading audio books, cooking for her husband, consuming way too much ice cream, listening to classical music, and assisting other visually impaired authors in reaching their goals. Bobbi believes that you shouldn’t chase your dreams, you should make them happen.

Book preview

Chapter One

Portland, Maine, 1979

Susan dropped her keys into her pocket, stepped outside and checked her watch as she wandered down to the sidewalk where she warmed up by stretching out taut muscles. Smiling, she began a slow trot up the hill. The fragrance of the neighborhood flowers wafted on the breeze. A seagull flew overhead, making his complaints known to anyone who would listen. This was her favorite time of morning. Sometimes she ran on automatic pilot, suddenly finding herself back home, oblivious to the route she had traveled to get there.

As she ran, she thought of the day ahead of her. She was to meet her friend Diana in the Old Port for lunch. Diana had met her during a fundraising project for Maine Medical Center and they discovered they had a lot in common. They bonded and soon were best friends. Their bond had grown so much over the last year that often people took them to be sisters rather than best friends.

Glancing at Casco Bay, she saw sailboats and a motorboat lazily making their way along the shoreline. The wind teased her bangs; the sun kissed her face. She loved running because it relaxed her. While working on a mental grocery list, her train of thought was abruptly interrupted. A large shadow popped into her line of vision as she slammed into something hard and furry. The impact caused her to tumble down an embankment. Landing in a sitting position, she was temporarily stunned. She swallowed, blinked, and turned her head to the side. Something slimy and cold nuzzled her ear and hot breath blew against her neck before she was slurped by a very long, rough pink tongue. Startled, her breath seemed to hitch in her chest. A dog sat down beside her and barked twice to get her attention. He pawed the air, showing her he wanted to shake hands.

She just sat there trying to regain her composure. A shadow blocked her sunlight. A husky voice asked, Are you all right? as an extended hand pulled her up onto her feet. She stumbled. The hand steadied her. She stammered, I think so, still not comprehending what had happened.

Let me help you back up the hill, he offered. He kept her hand in his as he carefully guided her up to the sidewalk. Once there, he gently brushed the dirt off her shoulders and pulled several leaves from her hair. The dog bounded up the embankment and came to sit in front of her with a red Frisbee in his mouth, his tail wagging.

Drop it, Bear! I don’t think she wants to play right now.

She looked up. He was very tall, very male, and quite handsome. The eyes that stared down at her were cornflower blue and filled with concern. Are you sure you’re all right? His smile was charming.

She glanced down. There were dirt and grass stains all over her slacks, and during the fall one of her fingernails had broken. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. To reassure him, she said, All body parts accounted for. I don’t think I’m injured. Something just knocked the wind out of me. She looked around her, taking in the area. What did I hit?

He explained apologetically, I think you ran into Bear. I had thrown the Frisbee out a little harder than I meant to. Just as it sailed across the sidewalk, you, a red Frisbee and one golden retriever collided and all of you went flying over the hill.

He hunkered down to the dog’s level and rubbed its ears. She stooped down and rubbed her hand under the dog’s chin. His fur was as soft as the down batting for a quilt. She could see he was well groomed. As she stroked his neck he rewarded her with a soggy kiss on her wrist. She said, You’re beautiful!

The man answered, I know.

She looked up at him. A full grin was on his face and his eyes were dancing with mischief. I was talking about the dog, she said as she stood up.

Oh, he laughed. I thought it was my boyish charm you were attracted to. She looked directly into his blue eyes, now filled with a devilish look. His lips quivered as he attempted not to laugh.

Does your dog flirt as much as you do?

I’m working on him, but to tell you the truth, he always gets the girl in the end.

I’ll bet, she replied, obviously enjoying the banter.

The man held out his hand. I’m Aaron Dennison, and this is my best friend, Bear.

I’m Susan. She shook his hand and all her feminine parts turned warm. She thought, Why am I so flustered?

She glanced down at her watch and back up at Aaron. Nice meeting you, but I have an appointment. Have a nice day!

She saw him looking her over intently, the way only men can do. Smiling, she turned to go. As she was leaving, he questioned, Just Susan?

Looking back, she grinned and replied, Just Susan!

She headed down the sidewalk. When she snuck a look back, he was still watching her. Her cheeks got hot and she felt like she had a bowl of butterflies in her belly. She thought, It was nice to be appreciated. But still, she sighed inwardly, enough adventures for one day!

Aaron stood on the sidewalk watching her disappear. He thought, I’ve been working too hard. I didn’t even get her number. Looking down at his dog, he said, Bear, old friend, she was mighty fine!

Chuckling, he tossed the Frisbee and Bear was off, running down the parkway.

Arriving home, Susan glanced in her full-length mirror in the hall and came to a dead stop. She was a disheveled mess. Stepping closer to the mirror, her mouth fell open. A dirt smudge streaked down one side of her face. Her ponytail was lopsided and strewn with bits of grass, and her clothes were filthy. Oh my God! she moaned, heading for the shower.

Two hours later, she boarded the bus for Congress Street, looking forward to connecting with her friend Diana. The bus was crowded. Some teenagers were wrestling in the back of the bus and the driver bellowed at them, Knock it off back there or I’ll kick you off the bus! All heads turned to look at the unruly teens as they sat down and quieted. At the next stop, they piled out the back exit door and a collective sigh passed through the bus. A young toddler began to sing a nursery rhyme, smiles were shared, and the rest of her ride was uneventful. As she got off at her stop, she thought to herself, This has been a different morning. She spotted Diana waiting in front of the library and walked over to join her.

Hi! Diana greeted.

Hey! I don’t care where we eat as long as it’s air conditioned. It’s hot enough out here to fry eggs on the sidewalk. How about you? Maybe Carvers or the Seaman’s Club or the Old Port Inn?

Diana looked thoughtful then declared, Carvers!

They walked in silence. The blast of cold air from the air conditioning was invigorating as they entered the restaurant. Once they were seated and their orders were taken, Susan let out a deep sigh.

Diana looked at her friend and sat back. That bad? Okay, tell all. Something has you all flustered.

You know me too well. I’m not exactly flustered. I had an interesting encounter this morning. I went running on the Eastern Prom and got ambushed by a golden retriever and a red Frisbee. I fell down an embankment, landed in a flowerbed, and was rescued by Mr. Dreamy. It just unnerved me.

Mr. Dreamy? Diana questioned.

Susan blushed and tried to change the subject. You know, I got that volunteer job on the West Side. I start tomorrow.

Yes, I remember you telling me about that. I want to know who Mr. Dreamy is.

Oh, just some guy I happen to meet on the Eastern Prom. She looked right at Diana and knew there was no way she could not share the whole story. So she gave up and plunged into the incident and ending with her abrupt leave.

He seems to have made an impression on you. Did he ask you out? Did you get his name or number?

Diana! I am not in the habit of picking up men on the Eastern Prom.

Did he ask you for your name and number?

Susan blushed as she remembered how she had brushed him off. He did ask me my name, she admitted.

And? Diana prompted.

I told him it was ‘Just Susan’, and hurried off to get home and come and meet you for lunch. End of story.

Diana leaned back in her chair looking disenchanted. I thought you were going to tell me you had this hot date tonight and couldn’t wait to be with him.

Diana, you are a hopeless romantic.

Diana sighed, smiled and brought her left hand up for Susan to see the diamond sparkling in the restaurant lighting. Susan jumped up from her seat and rushed forward to give Diana a hug. As she did so, her hand hit the water glass and water ran across the table and aimed for Diana’s lap. Diana leaped up and stepped back as the torrent of water splashed on to the floor. Instantly, two waiters appeared and mopped up the mishap. Susan gave Diana an embarrassed hug. The waiter, having restored order to the table, asked if they wanted more water. Susan blurted out, We’re getting married! Champagne is required.

The waiter left and Susan became animated. When did he ask you? Did you set a date? I am so happy for you! Susan gushed.

Diana laughed. Before she could give Susan answers, the waiter returned with the champagne. Congratulations to you both. He set the glasses in front of them and departed. Susan’s mouth fell open and Diana doubled over in laughter. Susan joined in and the laughter continued until their sides hurt.

He thought we were getting married. Do you think we should call him back and explain? Susan asked.

Not on your life. Let’s just let him wonder.

You are so bad, Diana.

Me? Diana cried indignantly. You’re the one that told him we were getting married!

Susan thought for just a moment. Oh my God. I did, didn’t I?

This set them both off again. Tears ran down Diana’s face. Once she could compose herself, she said, I am so sorry, Susan, about not being able to move in with you next month. I know we were looking forward to rooming together.

Susan grew quiet. She hadn’t thought about that. For over six months Diana and Susan had been making plans to share Susan’s apartment, but Susan’s landlord had been out of the country and Susan could not get permission to share until he got back. Her feelings were mixed. She was happy for Diana but, selfishly, she had really looked forward to sharing Diana’s company. Diana worked for an insurance firm as a claims adjustor. Susan was a freelance writer who made her own hours and set her own schedules. Sometimes Susan lived financially from project to project; she was careful with her money. Diana’s sharing her apartment with her would have meant she could pack a little more away in her savings. Not wanting to show her disappointment, she plastered a smile on her face and said, Don’t worry about me. I just want you to be as happy as you can be. I just didn’t realize it was as serious with Chris as this.

We just decided last night. This morning when I went to get the orange juice, the ring was taped to the bottle in the refrigerator.

Well, we can have fun planning your wedding.

About the wedding, Diana swallowed. We don’t want one. We want to fly to Vegas this weekend and elope.

Susan leaned back in her chair. You’re not going to have a wedding. She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

Look, Diana explained, Chris has no family and neither do I. We just want to get married and live happily ever after. For us, this seemed like the best way.

I understand. I just thought… Susan’s voice trailed off.

Diana, sensing her disappointment, was quick to respond with a suggestion. I do have one problem though. She paused to make sure Susan was listening. I need a maid of honor. So you think you could go to Vegas this weekend and handle that for me, please?

Susan’s face was radiant as she replied, Of course! I would be happy to do that.

On the bus ride home, Susan’s mind was racing. Diana getting married? She was happy for her. Susan was twenty-eight and Diana thirty. Diana had often mentioned how she wanted to have a husband and big family. She just had not connected with anyone that made her think of settling down. Just at that moment she thought of piercing blue eyes and a charming smile.

She fanned herself with her hand as her body flushed with a slow warm heat.

Chapter Two

Monday morning, two men entered the West Side Youth Center, turned on the lights and headed for their desks. Ken went to the kitchen to start the coffee. As Mike sat down, he looked at the roster for the day and let out a whistle. Hey, Ken, you have me supervising ten kids.

Yeah, Ken hollered back from the kitchen.

Don’t you think that’s a lot of responsibility?

If you can’t hack it, Larkin, I can replace you.

Mike took a deep breath, rustled the papers on his desk and sat back as Ken came into the room, his coffee in hand. You’re so nice to work with.

Somebody’s gotta do it. Why not me? You said you wanted to be busy. Well, that’s the roster: ten kids. Get busy!

Do you think I can do the job?

No, Ken retorted, but I’m willing to give you a try.

What am I looking at with these kids? You need to give me a rundown.

Ken sat down at the edge of his desk, lit a cigarette and looked at Mike. It’s not going to be easy. Four of the boys have been in juvenile detention. I think those are the ones you’ll have to be a little harder on. Two of the girls have been abused at home. You have two younger boys that follow the older crowd. I think if you can divert them now, we can probably save them from the street. There are two older boys that will be eighteen soon. One of them is a hothead. He knows it all and doesn’t want to listen, and I think he smokes pot out back when he can get away with it. He likes to stir the younger ones up and he bullies the middle group. But what irks me is he’s a smart kid but nobody’s ever challenged him or recognized his ability. Under the façade, I think he’s a good kid, worth saving and worth something to the program. The other boy, Andrew, is a follower. Good kid, lots of potential, very creative. No father figure in the home, just a mom who can’t control him. I think the two older boys will be a real challenge for you. They’ll try to walk all over you the first week and how you handle it is up to you.

Mike tipped his chair back and sighed. He wasn’t quite sure what he gotten himself into, taking this job as a youth counselor. These were not your average kids. They were from low-income families and had street smarts. It was his job to help them find jobs and stay off the streets and out of trouble for the summer. What time’s the meeting?

Ten o’clock. Don’t expect them to show up on time. They’ll probably wander in and out during the hour. Also, I’ve assigned a volunteer to you.

A volunteer!

Yes. Her name’s Susan Moore. She’s twenty-eight, blond, and a looker. I think you’ll like her. She’s doing some articles on low-income families and wanted to do some research on the problems low-income families have in Portland.

I don’t need a do-gooder, Mike sneered. I already have my hands full with what you’ve given me.

Ken rolled his eyes. Give her a break. She’s a nice lady and, besides, she could be a big help to us. The Center is going for some grants, you know.

Well, what am I supposed to do with her?

Humor her.

I’ll humor her, all right.

Ken looked over to Mike and smiled. I expect you to be professional.

Me? That’s not exactly my reputation, Ken. Hey, you know I like women. Everyone knows that!

I’m sure you’ll find a way to accommodate the lady. Just remember, you work here.

Thanks.

The Center was in a seventy-five year old building that needed a lot of work. Ken had talked the city into donating it so it could become the West Side Youth Center. He was awarded seed money by two banks and had donations from the neighborhood merchants. The building needed an extensive rehab, but Ken could see its potential. At least it would keep the kids off the streets, and they would have a place to go during the day.

Susan stepped off the bus and headed up Spring Street, excited and wanting to get her new project under way. There were some young people milling around outside the building and some of them looked up as she approached. She had dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt and a neat ponytail, wanting to fit in. In her tote bag, she carried supplies she thought she’d need during the day—that included her tape recorder. Entering the building, she found herself in a very large room. There were chairs set about, a worn couch on the right-hand wall, and some card tables set up with games. It looked a bit shabby, but she, too, could see potential. The man coming up the hallway from the back of the building caught her attention. He was of medium height, well-built and had red hair, freckles and was very handsome.

We’ll be open in ten minutes. It’s better if you wait outside, he said, dismissing her.

Susan was looking into his stunning hazel eyes and was taken aback. I’m looking for Ken Martin.

Are you? You can still wait outside until we open.

Susan took an instant dislike to the man’s attitude. Simmering with anger, she picked up her tote bag and stepped back outside, letting the door slam behind her. Mike shook his head. These kids aren’t going to be easy, he thought. They don’t even want to listen.

Ten minutes later, Mike hung the open sign in the doorway. At least eighteen kids of varying ages came through the door and began milling around and finding places to sit. Susan was the last to come in. There were no seats, so she leaned against the far wall, taking everything in.

Ken came up from the back of the building and took charge. Welcome to the West Side Youth Center. This is our first day of operation. My name is Ken Martin and I am the director. This is Mike Larkin, and he is one of the counselors. Rick Nickels is another counselor, but he had car trouble and will be in shortly. Rick will work with you if you are fourteen and under. Mike will be working with those fifteen to eighteen. Would the younger kids please go to the back of the room?

Mike stepped forward and asked the older teens to pull three card tables together and make a meeting place. Susan remained where she was, continuing to observe, and she noticed that Mike seemed very confident and cocky. The tables and chairs were assembled; Mike sat down and looked up at Susan. Wordlessly, he pointed to a vacant chair. Susan’s blue eyes flared with anger. She walked across the room and sat down. Mike passed out job applications and pens to everyone at the table and explained how to fill out the paperwork. Susan smiled with satisfaction, knowing exactly how she was going to handle the situation.

Mike said, I need to get an idea of your skills; what you can and can’t do. Please fill out these forms as thoroughly as you can. If you have questions or need help, ask me. That’s what I’m here for.

A young man on Mike’s far right spoke up. What kind of jobs? he asked.

Mike looked pointedly at him. Name?

Brian Marquette. Susan saw the untamed blonde mane of hair and slender build and thought he would break some hearts. He was painfully pale, which made his blue eyes more prominent.

Have you ever worked before?

Brian shook his head. Does it matter? he said defiantly. He looked down at the paper and didn’t say another word.

Susan looked around the table, carefully assessing each youth. She saw belligerence on some of the young men’s faces. She saw hope in one or two, and a couple of teens who plainly looked lost. She looked towards Mike and carefully weighed her words. Are you going to give us choices?

Mike’s eyes narrowed at her challenge. What type of choices would you like? Do you think you can be a secretary without any training? Do you think you can be a teller in a bank before you’re of age? What type of job would you like to have?

Perhaps yours. Susan smiled sweetly.

Mike sat back in his chair and began to laugh. Darlin’, he responded, have you had four years of college and majored in social work from USM?

Susan poured on the sugar. Try four years of college at UCLA with a Masters in journalism from the University of Colorado.

Mike’s eyes widened as he examined Susan, not believing a word she said. Right. And I’m Santa Claus.

No, you’re a rude, arrogant, and disrespectful counselor.

Excuse me? I don’t have to take this guff from an eighteen-year-old.

Susan hissed, How about from a lady who’s twenty-eight?

Mike stood up, towering over Susan.

Susan would not be intimidated. She stood up, her anger matching his, and looked directly into his eyes. The look on Mike’s face was not pleasant.

Ken had wandered back into the room to see how the meeting was going and overheard the dialogue between Mike and Susan. Walking over, he said, Pardon me. Have you two been introduced yet? He looked at Mike. Mike Larkin, meet Susan Moore, your volunteer. Mike fell silent, looking at Susan in a way that made her feel uneasy.

Susan said to Ken, It really wasn’t fair. He didn’t know who I was.

Attempting to regain composure in front of the group, Mike turned to his group of teens, gave them instructions, and turned to Ken, who invited Mike and Susan to use his office and get acquainted. When the door closed, Mike turned to Susan. I’m sorry. You don’t look twenty-eight.

Sorry about that! What you see is what you get. Mike chuckled and sat down.

Susan extended her hand toward Mike. Shall we try again?

Mike stood up, shook her hand and said, Why not? I heard you want to do a series of articles on low-income families and the issues we’re having on the West Side.

That’s correct. I want to get to know the people down here. I want to see what the real problems are. If I’m going to do anything to help the Center raise funds, I need to know the children’s needs as well as what makes the West Side tick.

So you’ve come down here to spy on the kids?

"I don’t look at it that way. I