Late Bloomer Read online

  “Why not?” The walkway narrowed as it did in spots, and he fell in behind her.

  “Because it would be rude.”

  “Maybe she’d be flattered. Your grandmother might take it as a sign of your love and interest.”

  “What?” Carolyn wheeled around so quickly, she found herself in his arms. “When did you become so perceptive?”

  “I had a good teacher.” Smiling, he looped his arms around her waist.

  “Just one good teacher?”

  “For me, there was only one. She was my favorite.” When he tipped up her chin, she felt it coming. The kiss. How she wanted it. The crush of his mouth on hers, the tease of his tongue.

  But nothing. A car roared past. Brody backed off but his arms stayed put. “You’ve changed over the years. Can’t your grandmother change too?”

  How did Brody get so wise? Sometimes she wanted things to stay the same, especially people in her life. But maybe change was a good thing. Her former student was opening new worlds for her.

  Glancing up, she fell head first into his deep blue eyes. “You’re sure not the same,” she murmured.

  His lips twisted. “You mean now I’m seeing things I never noticed back when I was a moron?”

  She jerked back. “I’d never call one of my students a moron. You were a teenager, okay? No different than any other guy at eighteen.” Not totally true. He’d been way more goofy and charming.

  “Feels like I’ve been put in my place, Miss Knight.”

  His arms dropped and he took her hand. So, he didn’t like being reminded of the past? Moving up the road, she could hardly bear the disappointment. Forget dinner. She was hungry for his kiss. Thank goodness they’d reached the restaurant. Holding her new skirt up so she didn’t trip, she mounted the wooden stairs to a broad porch. In nice weather, people ate outside, but not tonight. A chilly wind swept down the nearly empty street.

  But warmth waited inside. El Farol had a cozy feeling of smaller rooms, round tables and a bar that stretched off to the left. The noise level in the front room was high. This was definitely a gathering place. “Hey Brody.” The receptionist greeted him, her eyes widening when she saw Carolyn behind him. What was that about?

  “Right this way.” All business now, the girl led them through a dining room to the back. A few people nodded or lifted a hand to Brody. She wondered how often he came here.

  They ended up in a large rectangular room with a stage. Long tables accommodated groups, but they were seated in a cozy corner. Tiny white lights were strung from the rafters, adding a festive air to the dimly-lit room.

  “This okay?” He turned.

  “Perfect.”

  Brody pulled out her chair, his hands sliding over her shoulders when she slipped off the shawl. Then he took the seat across from Carolyn.

  “Have you ever been here?” he asked, handing her a heavy leather-backed menu.

  “A couple times. Usually my grandmother and I sit in the other room. During the day, I prefer the teahouse at the top of the hill.”

  “Right. It’s outside. One of my favorite places too.”

  When they smiled at each other, she felt almost giddy. Focusing on the menu wasn’t easy. After ordering drinks, they studied the list of tapas. Chorizo and ham, artichokes and avocados. By the time they’d decided, her mouth was watering. When the margaritas arrived, they gave their order.

  “Warm in here.” Brody slid off his jacket. “Didn’t you say you’d grown up in Chicago? Halsted Avenue has some great tapas bars.”

  “Right. Did you go there a lot?” Chicago was a two-hour drive from Gull Harbor, but Brody hadn’t been of legal drinking age back then.

  His cautious expression took her back to when he was a student who didn’t know the right answer. Brody was a master at faking it. “Okay, I’ll come clean,” he finally said with a shrug. “Sometimes I’d drive into Chicago with the guys. My mother would have killed me. We all had fake IDs.”

  “So, drinking was involved and you’d drive back?” The question came automatically.

  Without blinking, Brody leveled a look at her. “My mother wouldn’t have been happy. But you’re not my mother.”

  “Didn’t say I was.” Playing with her cocktail napkin, she twisted it into a tight roll.

  “Back then, a lot of my decisions weren’t wise.” His eyes lightened when he smiled. “You, on the other hand, were kind of innocent.”

  “Innocent?” She took a sip of the frigid drink. “I was twenty-two and an adult.”

  “Yeah, you were but...” Brody let the words drift off, as if he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  She licked her lips. “I don’t know. Tell me.” He wasn’t getting off this easy.

  “Oh, Miss Knight,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “You were one hot mama back then.” Then his expression lightened. “And you made English class fun. I wasn’t much of a reader but your class? I tried.”

  “Gee, I’m flattered.” And she laughed. Back then she’d never minded when struggling students read Cliff Notes, as long as they participated in class.

  The banter flew back and forth until waiters arrived, arms tiered with the tapas. The food on the small plates smelled so darn good. They picked up their forks.

  “Hard to know where to start. But the sausage looks good.” Carolyn sank her fork through a crisp casing.

  “Now, let’s take turns, Teach.” When Brody winked at her over the banquet, the sausage almost lodged in her throat. Then he smiled and she swallowed. One by one, they tasted. He offered her a mussel. She offered him a clam. Wasn’t long before they forgot which fork belonged to which plate.

  “Such tiny plates and so much food. I have to catch my breath,” she sighed at one point, pushing back. Now on her second margarita, she was getting mellow. Should she be on her guard? All that classroom talk had opened a gulf between them.

  “What’s up,” he asked when he caught her staring.

  “Nothing.” Ducking her head, she played with a strand that had slipped from the claw clip.

  He’d swung his chair around so they were side by side. “I love your hair like that.” Brody’s eyes wandered from her stray curl to her lips. Her scalp prickled and her lips plumped.

  “Thank you.” She dropped her hand into her lap.

  “It’s more like you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  When his eyes narrowed, her breath tightened. “I know what I liked...like...about you.”

  No looking away. Their eyes dove into each other. Her body twitched from the impact and her mind spun. For a second there were no words, not the right ones anyway. They sat there staring, as if they spoke different languages. But their eyes? They translated just fine.

  So maybe she’d just look. Brody was the essence of cool tonight. His blue shirt sleeves were folded up on tan forearms. How far did that golden skin extend? She imagined inches of skin she wanted to explore.

  Yep, she really was in trouble. His gaze was impenetrable, as usual. “You are a sphinx.”

  Brody drew back. “Why do you say that?”

  “I can’t tell what you’re thinking.”

  “A good thing right? Maybe I’m just cautious.”

  “Guarded. But I remember you as goofy. Wisecracks, that kind of stuff.”

  “Screamingly insecure is probably more like it.” Reaching out, he brushed the corner of her lips with a thumb.

  “Do I have food on my face?” She reached for her napkin. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to touch your lips.”

  The comment spun her down like a warm July wave. Sent her tumbling in mind-blowing directions until she could hardly breathe.

  Meanwhile, he stayed cool. Brody’s eyes roamed her face, a half smile dancing on his lips. “Didn’t you ever wonder what students were thinking?”

  “Not really. I didn’t have time.”

  He laughed with lazy delight as he extended one arm around the back of her chair. Tipping his
head to one side, Brody leaned closer and whispered, “It’s a good thing you didn’t know.”

  By that time the room was packed. The noise level had risen and she was glad. Glad he had to lean in close so she could hear. After that, their eyes took up the conversation.

  A spotlight hit the stage. The noise dropped. A guitarist and three other men in black jackets took the chairs along the back of the stage. Flat black hats were tipped rakishly over their eyes. Fingers flicking against the strings, the guitarist played a throbbing flamenco rhythm. No one moved. Expectation held the entire room suspended. From the side, three female dancers appeared. They swirled onto the stage in floor-length costumes with tight red bodices and black ruffled skirts that cut up in the front. Fringed shawls hung over their shoulders, swaying with their movement.

  “The real deal, right?” Brody whispered in her ear. She could only nod.

  If she were at home right now, she might be sitting in the Mangy Mutt with Diana or Phoebe, enjoying a fish taco. The sense that her life was changing filled Carolyn with a jittery excitement and something else.

  Foreboding. There was that foreshadowing again.

  Time to concentrate on the dancing.

  The show unfolded, a blur of color and rhythm, wailing voices and frenetic clapping, along with the stamping of feet.

  “Do you know what they’re saying?” She almost grazed his ear with her lips.

  “Not really. Probably something about a lover killed with a dagger.”

  Carolyn smiled. “Or a lover who never returns.”

  “Or a lover who does return.”

  What? She cut him a quick glance. Brody’s eyes were on the stage, fingers tapping the back of her chair. The roles had changed completely. Sitting there in the darkness, she struggled for balance. Was that the soft stroke of a thumb on her back? Her skin felt hypersensitive. She slid her margarita aside. No way did she want this to be about drinking or the music or the wildly romantic Santa Fe setting. No, she wanted this to be about Brody.

  The dancing continued and the audience joined the rhythmic clapping. As they sat there together, the passion in the music transmitted to her body. Each sinuous sweep of a long, ruffled train became her, teasing Brody, wanting him. And he seemed to feel it too. The soft touches on her back stopped. His hand closed lightly over her shoulder. When he angled his chair closer, his leg touched hers and stayed there.

  Her chest was heaving by the time the music ended.

  As the last chord faded, she expelled a pent-up breath. The lights came up and the mood changed. Brody pulled away. Conversation and the clinking of glasses picked up.

  He scanned her face. “Like it?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. Thank you for bringing me.” She was so glad she hadn’t come with Howard and Alan that first night. This kind of emotional entertainment? She only wanted to experience it with Brody.

  “I liked watching you.” He whispered close against her neck.

  “Why?” Lifting her eyes to his, she felt herself falling.

  “You fascinate me.”

  Her mouth went dry. Thank goodness the waiter arrived. “Dessert?”

  “You have to taste their flan,” Brody said without batting an eye. “They make it themselves.”

  “Sounds good.” She was in the mood for something decadently rich. Brody ordered the flan. But all the while he spoke to her, the girl was concentrating on Carolyn.

  “What’s the deal with her?” she murmured as the girl retreated.

  “Who knows? So how’s your grandmother enjoying your visit?” He was so good at changing the subject.

  “We had a good time today. Shopping.” The afternoon had felt so comfortable. “We’ve always had a special bond.”

  “She seems like a lot of fun. You’re lucky your grandparents lived in the same city.”

  “I was. My father’s parents had passed on, and my folks had a lot of social obligations. Fund raisers. Galas. They never trusted babysitters, and my grandparents were glad to have me visit for weekends in their River Forest home. They took me to the zoo, movies, out for ice cream. They were fun to be around.”

  “You’re an only child?”

  “Yes. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Did you say you have a brother?”

  “Right. Braydon.” He stretched his legs out under the table. “Without my brother, I might have ended up in my family’s winery. I would have hated it.”

  Alan’s words came back to her. “So for you, the family business wasn’t security? Some guys would have loved it.”

  Brody’s brow furrowed. She felt him struggling but didn’t know why.

  “When I was eight and Braydon was seven, our dad took off and came back here.”

  How astonishing. “Here? Santa Fe?”

  He nodded. “This area, yes.”

  ~.~

  Trying to read her expression, Brody steeled himself. “My father lived in one of the pueblos. Or did live there before his death three years ago.”

  Brody hated pity. Carolyn’s face was full of it.

  “I’m so sorry. I never knew.” She was processing and he let her. He’d learned to let silence open up.

  “So you came back here to reconnect with him?”

  “To reconnect with me.” He laid the words down softly. A lot was on the line here, although Carolyn didn’t realize that.

  A tiny frown appeared between her delicate brows. He’d seen this look before. When a student in class made a remark with a new twist, Miss Knight would think it over. Then she’d ask a question. Their discussion might go on until the bell rang. It was one of the cool things about her. She really listened.

  “Were you looking for yourself back then after college?”

  The feeling of being understood swept through him. He felt a knot inside loosen. “Yes. Yes, I was.” He was glad he was sitting close to her. The other diners seemed deep in quiet conversations except for one boisterous table of tourists.

  “And did you find something? Your dad...did he help?”

  A familiar pain twisted through him. “In a way.”

  He waved to the waitress. Carolyn nipped her lower lip between her teeth as if she were holding back the next question. Another familiar gesture. Only this time that look yanked a chain that ran right through his core.

  After settling the bill, he pushed back his chair. “What do you say? Time to leave?” He’d had enough baring of his soul for one night.

  When he’d driven her back to Santa Fe, he was doing a favor for a favorite teacher. When had things changed? The teasing smile, her sweet compassion, the relationship she had with her grandmother? The Miss Knight he knew back then was gone, but here was this woman. And he wanted more of her.

  “Yes, I agree. It’s time to go.” She gave a kittenish stretch. “Although I am on vacation.”

  Just a few more days. That dug a hole in his gut.

  “What?” She leaned closer.

  “You’re leaving Sunday, right? “

  Was there regret in her quiet nod?

  “Have you ever been to Museum Hill?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Would you like to go?” He didn’t have to wait long.

  Her face beamed. “I’d love it. The tour bus took us past it a couple days ago.”

  “Us? You and your grandmother?”

  The blush was apparent even in this low light. “No, ah, Alan. That man you met? He was showing me around.”

  Oh, I just bet. No wonder his dad acted so funny, as if Brody were stealing a national treasure.

  She stood up and he helped her with the shawl. Hand at the small of her back, he guided her to the front door. He couldn’t blame the men whose eyes wandered her way. Carolyn was gorgeous and totally unaware of it. He liked that. But he gave a couple guys The Look. Their attention went back where it belonged.

  Outside, the air held the cold edge of the mountains and she shivered.

  “I should have brought the car.” H
e ran his hands down her delicate arms.

  “It’s fine.” She took his arm once they reached the sidewalk. “Let’s walk. Clear our heads.”

  But it wasn’t his head that was the problem. Putting a hand on hers, they moved in step together down Canyon Road. He could have strolled through the city all night with her. A slight limp told him her foot was bothering her. Her grandmother’s gallery and the side street came up too soon.

  She was quiet as they mounted the stairs to the casita. “Do you think your grandmother’s home yet?” The casita looked dim inside.

  “Who knows?” She gave a slight hitch of one shoulder. “There’s so much I don’t know about my grandmother, especially when it comes to Howard.”

  “A little mystery is nice.”

  “Maybe. Do you have your grandparents here? Your father’s parents?”

  The loss didn’t get any easier. “Gone, unfortunately. Hey, don’t look so serious.” Taking her in his arms felt so natural.

  Seeming content, she relaxed against him and tipped her head back. God, she was beautiful. And then she sighed through slightly parted lips.

  Who could resist? Her lips were soft. He took his time. The first kiss was a tantalizing brush of his lips against hers. Yep, so damn soft. He drank in her sighs. Went back for more and then again. Felt the subtle shift of her body against his. Her arms wound around his neck. The kisses got wetter, longer. To save himself from embarrassment, he let a little air pass between them. But she wasn’t having it. Shock riveted him when she pressed her curves into him, so soft and willing.

  “Finally.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Glancing up, she wrinkled her nose. “I’ve wanted that for a while.” She ran a soft palm down his cheek.

  “Really?” Wish I’d known. “We’ve only known each other four days.”

  “That’s how you see it?” Her features and voice sharpened.

  But he didn’t want her getting all analytical on him. “Okay. Maybe it’s been ten years.” This was different for him. He wanted to take it slow. But there was no safe way to explain. He could get all tangled up in his words and he wasn’t taking that chance.

  Her lips had found his neck, and his knees threatened to buckle. Her lips were swollen and her eyes heavily-lidded. He knew what an aroused woman looked like and Carolyn Knight? She was there. For him. Now that was a major turn-on.