Jennifer Greene - Yours, Mine & Ours

“Good grief. I could get tired, just imagining you trying to accomplish all that.”

“I’m tired, just thinking about it. Which kind of sparked a new thought.” She hesitated, certain a bad idea was about to surface, yet for that precise second she couldn’t analyze why it was so bad. “How about if we spend a few grown-up hours together? Have lunch out. Someplace you’d never take four-year-olds. Then see a movie. Something- anything -that’s not a cartoon or has Disney anywhere in the credits.”

He looked at her. She looked back. He said, “I’ll change shoes and get my wallet.”

“I have to take the dog out.”

“Speaking of which-”

“No, she hasn’t been to the vet yet. The whole thing got kind of complicated. I had an appointment, then their office called and said the vet had a family emergency. But she’s seeing Darling in two days. The appointment’s made. So that’s not a problem on the table today.”

“Okay, then. Five minutes. Back here. My car?”

“Fine by me.”

Six hours later, Mike left the Dan Ryan-the expressway where faint-of-heart drivers were tortured at rush hour, a uniquely Chicagoan sport-and turned into the curve toward the western suburbs. They still wouldn’t be home for another twenty minutes.

He didn’t want the day to end.

He glanced at his passenger. Amanda had never said a word about riding in the pickup, but she was obviously comfortable. Even strapped in, she’d managed to curl her legs under her, had slipped off a sandal.

“This has been the best day,” she murmured.

“You’re not kidding.” He’d been both wary and willing of playing hooky with her. Wary, because she already inspired too many wrong ideas and hormones. And yet willing, because…well, because after his ex-wife drove off, he’d still felt the rug burns on his ego.

Nancy had never said the exact words, but her opinion of him was clear. Lawyer or not, great education or not, he was still hopelessly rough-edged. Too earthy. Too physical. Too sexual. Her choosing ‘George’ pretty obviously underlined everything she’d found wrong with him. Maybe he’d achieved stature in a notable law firm, but that didn’t give him elegance or taste by her standards.

Amanda was distinctly a woman of elegance and taste. So chances were she’d discover those rotten qualities and back off…or his own rug burns would make him too wary to get further involved.

All of which was to say…he’d been able to relax with her today.

Maybe even more than relax. They’d had just plain old ordinary fun. She’d picked the lunch spot, a place where she got to choose lobster bisque and he could vote for a raw red steak. Their entrees echoed how different they were, but that didn’t seem to matter. The restaurant was packed with a professional lunch crowd. All adults. No spills, no screams, no, “I don’t want this!” or “Are we done yet?” or “I’m bored, Dad!”

The movie was even better. She’d picked the restaurant, so he’d picked the movie. It was the first flick he’d seen in ages that had some skin, some blood, some action. She could eat the chocolate she wanted. He could have his own popcorn. No one whispered in his ear. No one claimed they had to go to the bathroom three times. He actually got to see a movie from start to end.

It’s not as if this were a date…

He wasn’t aware he’d spoken aloud, until Amanda chuckled. “Of course it wasn’t a date. We’re not dating. We just had a grown-up afternoon.” She sighed with contentment. “No Bambi. No comic-book characters. And I had the whole chocolate bar.”

He laughed. “You had two, I believe.”

“Yeah, I admit I went overboard-but I haven’t had a whole chocolate bar to myself in…well, in years. I’m always trying to think about setting the right example.” She smiled at him again. “That’s the best part. A whole afternoon without any ‘shoulds’ or ‘have tos’.”

Damned, if he didn’t feel exactly the same way. It was funny, but he hadn’t been easy in his own skin for a long time now. Certainly not when he was married. There always seemed to be something he was doing or saying wrong, something that was going to get analyzed and criticized.

It seemed unbelievable-if not downright crazy-that he could feel that rare sense of easiness with her.

By the time he pulled in his driveway, she was still smiling…and so was he. “We have a couple of hours before the kids are due home,” she said.

“Yeah. Both of us might even catch a nap or some reading time.” He climbed out at the same time she did, stretched. Cat and Slugger burst out of the pet door as if they hadn’t seen him in a decade. Cat slapped Slugger with a paw when the hound tried to reach him first. Slugger immediately howled, but he couldn’t have been hurt too badly, because he kept galloping, ears flapping in the wind.

Amanda laughed and then kept on laughing. “I’m afraid I’ll be greeted the same way when I walk in the door.”

And she turned that way…but she didn’t seem in any rush to race home. They both seemed to linger. Just standing there. He’d tried not to pay attention, but the warmth of late-afternoon sunshine brushed her shoulders, turned her hair into fire, and her eyes-he swore-were as emerald-green as the jewel.

“Well…thanks for a great afternoon,” she said, and bounced up-as if she intended to give him a friendly, neighborly hug.

He thought that fast hug was a great idea-a way to underline how easily they were going to maintain the friendship thing. Only…once she lifted up on tiptoes, she seemed to hesitate. The shine in her eyes seemed to darken. He felt the brush of those sassy high breasts, the graze of her pelvis, the scent of her skin take over his air space.

In that spare second, he couldn’t seem to breathe-except for her. Couldn’t seem to move-because basic touches ignited a maelstrom of furious wants and noisy needs. Couldn’t seem to control the hunger-to kiss her again.

He didn’t.

She didn’t.

For a good, long three seconds.

It was her fault things changed, he was pretty sure, because she was the one who swung her arms around his neck. But then…hell. He couldn’t keep his mouth off hers, and the kiss became a banquet of tasting, taking, wooing. He had to touch her. Had to. He stroked down her spine, the route not familiar, just familiar enough so that he knew the curve in her knew a palm on her fanny brought a groan…and encouraged her to lean even tighter into him.

Invitations hung in the air, unseen, invisible, but real as the sunlight. Maybe suddenly seemed the longest word in the English language, analyzed between her lips and his, between the silken brush of her hair in the breeze, between the heat he could feel rising in her skin, through her skin…into him.

She lifted her head, opened stunned-soft eyes, looked straight at him.

She swallowed. He got his breath back. She remembered to drop her hands from around his neck. He remembered to drop his hands from around her back. The flush on her cheeks-there was no changing that.

There was no changing the brick inside his jeans, either.

But suddenly she turned her head, said out of the complete blue, “We really do need a fence between our yards, to keep our pets separated.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that before.” Since she created the diversion, he was more than willing to embellish it. “Instead of a barrier kind of fence…what would you think about an electric one?”

“What a great idea. Then your dog and my dog can’t cross over. But then it won’t be an unfriendly fence. It’ll just…you know. Help.”

Exactly what he thought. Maybe their dogs didn’t need it-but he sure as hell did. He needed something that would zap him-electrocute him if necessary-when he felt the urge to touch her again.