Finding Isadora(106)

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, yes.”

“We could spend the night making love in my bed for a change.”

I loved it that he wanted me in his bed.

He snapped his fingers. “Sorry, forgot about the animals.”

“Mr. Schultz,” I murmured. “Marvelous Mr. Schultz will help out. I’d love to stay at your place.” Maybe I could persuade him to play the guitar. And perhaps I could make some tactful suggestions about his décor…

“I’ll take you for dinner at this terrific little Portuguese restaurant, and then— Damn, we’ve got to run if we’re going to be at my place before three.”

“I have to shower first.” Bad enough I had to face my parents fresh from being in bed with Gabriel, but at the very least I did need to be fresh. “Okay if I get a ride with you?” I’d put off facing my perceptive mother as long as I could.

“Great. But I need a shower, too, so we’d better get a move on.”

This time there was no monkey business. We took turns in the shower to make sure of it, me dashing in and out before him, then scurrying around getting ready. While I dressed in beige capris, a mauve tee, and the earrings he’d given me, Gabriel converted our bed back into a couch. The next time I pulled it out, I’d be unfolding memories of the two of us together.

“Ready,” I told him.

“A woman who can get ready in under ten minutes.” He urged me toward the door. “Gotta love that.”

Aha! He was willing to confess that he loved something about me!

As soon as I’d locked the door, he grabbed my hand and we sprinted down the hall and took the stairs. He seemed in top form, but I bit back a groan. My legs felt like mush. Aching mush. A six mile walk around Stanley Park was nowhere near as exhausting as making love with Gabriel.

Predictably, a parking ticket protruded from under his car’s wiper. “Money well spent,” he said with a grin as he thrust it into his pocket.

“How are we going to play this?” I asked when we were on our way. “You can drop me a few blocks away so we don’t arrive together.”

His face squinted up in a troubled frown. “I don’t like deception.”

“Me either. But until we deal with Richard…”

“Yeah, I guess.” He squeezed my thigh. “It’d be so much easier if this was just a one-nighter.”

“I guess you’d be the one to know about one-nighters,” I said tartly.

“Nothing wrong with one-nighters if that’s what both people want.” He chuckled. “Funny thing, that’s exactly what I had in mind when I first saw you at that fundraiser. Figured we’d be in bed that night, for just the once.”

“Isn’t life full of surprises?” I asked sweetly.

“Mmm. Like finding out you were Richard’s fiancée.” He stopped at a red light and glanced over. “Then I got to know you and realized that, even if it hadn’t been for Richard, we’d never have been a one-nighter.”

“When did you know that?” I asked, guessing he might say when we first kissed on the beach.

He thought a moment. “When you started naming off those damned police horses.”

“What?” Back then, in our very first conversation?

“You were so earnest and passionate and lovable. I knew that if we ever got together, it would be something real.”

Lovable. Something real.

The light turned green and he put his foot to the gas. “I’m out of juice and soda pop.”

Juice and soda? How could he go from lovable, and something real, to juice and soda? Trust a man.

“Should also get some cheese and crackers,” he said. “How about I drop you at the store and you bring the groceries along to the apartment? Hopefully, I’ll get there before anyone else, and have a chance to change. You should get there about the time others start arriving.”

“I’ll spend the afternoon trying not to look at you.”

“I’ll spend it trying not to think about what we’re going to do to each other when everyone’s gone.”

I gave a little shiver and thought about the long afternoon we’d have to get through. “Grace and Jimmy Lee will be there.”

He darted me a quick glance. “You want to tell them?”

“Yes, but not today. As soon as you tell Richard. I hate having secrets from my parents. Is that okay?”

“Christ, your dad’ll want to string me up.”

“Gabriel, he thinks you’re wonderful.”

“For a lawyer, a colleague, a friend. Bet he won’t be so impressed that I’m his little girl’s lover.”

“My lover.” I tested it on my tongue. Drop one letter off the end and it was still true.

“Sounds good,” he commented.

And what would he say when I got up the nerve to say “my love”?

“So it’s all right with you that I tell them?” I asked.

“Isadora, they’re your parents. Of course you’ll tell them.” He gave a mock shudder. “Just don’t let Jimmy Lee hit me too hard.”

He pulled his car in to the curb in front of a corner grocery, then fished out his wallet and handed me some bills.

“Juice, soda, cheese, crackers,” I recited. “Anything else?”