Gwynne Forster - Fools Rush In

“She’s asleep.”

The sound of his deep, velvety voice sent tremors of excitement ricocheting through her body. “I know. I just thought I’d check.” She cut a wide swath around him, avoiding his eyes as she did so, rushed to her room, and closed the door. She’d never been afraid of relationships, had always delighted in exploring them, game for new experiences. And then Kenneth deceived her. She squeezed her fists tight, fighting to shut out the gnawing sounds of the past, to live in the present, grab whatever happiness came her way and hang onto it.

The stench of the burning rubble, the gutted remains of the Sutton Motel in Falls Church, Virginia and the sight of the black plastic bags tied to gurneys that passed within inches of her came back to her, bridging time, and she was there again. She hadn’t known that she cried out until her door sprang open and Duncan Banks had her in his arms.

“What is it? Why are you shaking so? Justine, honey, tell me what’s the matter.” She had to pull herself together, to reclaim her dignity. She couldn’t let him see her shattered this way. He held her closer in an unmistakable caress, and she wanted to luxuriate in the warmth of his embrace, but her relationship with her child was at stake. She rested her head on his shoulder for a second, lolling in what might have been, and then moved away.

“I’m sorry if I alarmed you, Duncan, but I’m all right now.”

He wasn’t easily pacified. “You don’t get off that simply, Justine, and if you had heard the terror in your voice, you wouldn’t blame me for insisting. What happened to you?”

She didn’t question his right to an explanation, but she couldn’t tell all. “You’re right. It was the sudden memory of a terrible tragedy, so fresh and so real. I…I suppose I forgot where I was.”

“And you’re not going to tell me about it, are you?”

Still shaken, she had to control her voice, lest it tremble.

“Some day, perhaps, if our relationship warrants it. For now, you’ll have to trust me, Duncan. I promise I haven’t committed any crimes, and I have no unpaid debts. You don’t have to worry about my character.”

His grim expression belied his words. “I don’t question your good character, Justine. To mimic you, you wear it wrapped around you like a bold spring breeze. If you’re all right, I’ll leave you. But if you need me…” He let it hang.

She couldn’t face the merrymakers downstairs, so she’d get Banks’s phone number and apologize for not saying good night. She got ready for bed and faced a welcomed fact. That scream was at last a physical reaction to the pain of that morning in Falls Church, Virginia. She still hadn’t cried.

Duncan walked down the stairs with heavy, burdened steps. He’d waste a lot of time if he tried guessing what could have been so horrible that its memory wrung such a terror-stricken scream from Justine. He ought to be grateful that it happened, because he needed a reminder that he didn’t know Justine Taylor. Yet, it was no use denying his strong attraction to her. When he’d held her in his arms upstairs there, he’d felt her pain, and he knew the danger that presaged. A man was headed for trouble when his gut reaction to a woman was to protect her, and he’d wanted to shield Justine from whatever demons haunted and hurt her. He paused on the bottom step, unwilling to break his thoughts and join his friends. Maybe he’d take his annual hunting trip early. Justine was as capable of taking care of Tonya as he was. When he got back home, she’d be out of his system.

He pulled air through his teeth in disgust at himself. He had to straighten out his head. If she had so much as raised her face and looked at him or put her hands near his shoulders, he’d have taken her mouth, the consequences be damned. And that didn’t make a shred of sense. He glanced up at Wayne Roundtree and his baby sister heading for the front door.

“You don’t want me to drive you home, Leah?”

“Wayne’s gonna drop me off on his way to Beaver Ridge.”

He didn’t suppose it was funny; nothing amused him right then. But he couldn’t help enjoying Wayne’s apparent discomfort—until the man reprimanded Banks, “I’m not dropping you off; I’m taking you home. You said you’d like that, and that’s what I’m doing.”

She was about to learn that Roundtrees didn’t let people jerk them around, and the lesson might do her some good. Still…Duncan ignored Wayne’s scowl. “If you want me to take you, Leah, it’s no sweat.” He didn’t laugh when Wayne glared at him, though maintaining a straight face took some mental discipline.

“What do you want?” Wayne asked her, his voice tinged with vexation and his stance just short of predatory.

Banks’s sheepish grin settled it for Duncan even before she said, “He can take me home.” Wayne Roundtree had her number, but it didn’t surprise him when she took care not to get too far out of character and added, “You trust him, don’t you, Duncan?”

A belly laugh rolled out of him. Trust his sister to squeeze the humor out of a situation. “Make him stick to the speed limit, Sis. Wayne drives like a bat out of hell.”

“I’ll open that door,” Wayne said when Banks reached the car.

She shifted her weight to her left foot and let fly with, “Something wrong with my hands?”

She resisted squirming when he stopped inches from her, looked down into her face and said, “No. The problem lies elsewhere. And that’s something you and I are going to get straight before I move this car.”

Tough, was he? “Hmmm. Maybe I’d better tell Duncan he has to take me home after all.”

His hand on her elbow said he meant business. Fine with her. “Leah, I don’t care for this constant stream of sarcasm and cynicism. I’m with you because I want to be, and I assume the same goes for you. But if you’d rather be somewhere else, say the word and we won’t start this. What’ll it be?”

She wished she could see his eyes a little better and figure out what he thought, and she’d give anything to know how to talk to him. She opened her mouth to tell him he couldn’t always have his likes, remembered how long and how badly she’d wanted to be with him, and said, instead, “Are you always so cut and dried?”

“Not usually, but your constant challenges bring out a side of me that I’m not familiar with. Think you can mellow a little?”

“I…I thought I was.”

He helped her into the sleek, maroon-colored Town Car, seated himself, and started the engine. “Do you want us to spend time together?”

Playing it safe, was he? She bristled. “Wayne, I’m not an authority on boy-girl behavior these days, but I think if you want us to see each other, you have to ask.”

He glanced her way briefly before accelerating onto the capital Beltway. “Okay. Okay. Will you spend time with me? I’d like to get to know you.”

He was asking her out. Everything inside of her started swimming, and she grasped her forehead as though to quell an attack of vertigo. Only air came out of her mouth when she parted her lips to speak.

“Well? You turning me down? I though you said you’d wanted to meet me. If I’ve bombed this fast with you, I’m in trouble.”

She grabbed her middle when he zipped into Route 270 and nearly panicked when words still wouldn’t come. In desperation, she placed a tentative hand on his knee and risked a gentle pat. The man had tied her into knots; she’d never been speechless in her life.

He glanced down at her hand resting on his knee. “What does that mean?”

“I…I think you’re nice, Wayne, and we can go out sometime.”

He rested his hand on hers. “On a steady basis?”

Just because the man was wonderful wasn’t a reason to chuck her common sense. “Well, let’s see if that’s what we want. Okay?”