Late Bloomer Page 6
Brody launched into a recap. Carolyn nodded, as if she had an interest in every football and basketball player in his graduating class. She loved the way Brody rested his chin on a propped up hand when he became thoughtful. A woman could tell so much about a man from his eyes and his hands. His eyes were trouble. His hands? She shivered.
“So you remember all those guys?” The question brought her wandering mind to a skidding halt.
She licked the last string of melted cheese from her lips. His eyes followed the swipe of her tongue. “Yes, yes, I do.” But frankly, none like him. He’d been such a challenge, always asking to use the restroom. The one request she couldn’t deny. The other kids would chuckle, listening to his untied shoelaces slap the tiles on his way down the hall. Or he’d raise a hand, asking her to turn down the heat or turn up the air conditioning, depending on the season. He knew classrooms didn’t have individual thermostats.
Brody Wolf required a lot of attention back in the days when she wore mini skirts and boots.
“Did you really have to use the restroom so often?”
His lips tipped at the corners. “Nope. Just liked to see you get all flustered. You never noticed that Randy was doing a countdown after class started?”
“What?” She yelped so loud people turned. “You mean when you were supposed to be writing in your journals?”
“We got a kick out of it.” His jaw shifted. “Usually you let me leave within the first five minutes.”
“How amazing.” She played with her braid.
“The guys would be jealous as all get out to see us sitting here.”
“Oh, I doubt it. Just a teacher catching up with a student. Not much to remember.” She pushed her empty plate closer to the edge of the table so Manuel would see it.
“Uh, huh. Want to bet?” With a sly dip of his head, he chortled. “The way you’d push your hair back behind your ears? It would catch on those long dangly earrings you liked to wear. You’d get so mad. It was kind of cute.”
“Oh, no.” She groaned. “Those chandelier earrings were so inappropriate for class.”
“I liked them. But then, I like ‘inappropriate.’ ”
She decided to ignore the flutter in her stomach. “How do you remember all this?” She fingered her silver hoop, the practical type of earring she wore now.
“You’re easy to remember.”
The words sent her into free fall. And she hated heights. With relief, she watched him pick up his fork again.
When they’d finished, the waiter appeared. “Dessert?”
Brody arched a brow. “Banana cream pie?”
“Right, banana cream.” Carolyn shifted her gaze to the glass case.
“One piece or two?” Manuel asked.
“The pieces are large,” Brody told her. “As big as Moby Dick.”
“Wow. Well?”
“We’ll share,” Brody told Manuel before turning back to her. “The Cliff Notes for that book were huge.”
“So was the book.” She sighed. “Might have been a bit ambitious for high school.”
“Call me Israel,” Brody said, with such seriousness that she had to laugh.
“It was Ishmael, not Israel.”
But he wasn’t laughing. “I know, Carolyn.”
“Oh, well.” Feeling foolish and off balance again, she sat there. Then it hit her. He’d called her Carolyn easily, not to make a point. Shaped her name with those lips that sent an unwanted chill rippling through her. Spoke to her as an equal. She was relieved when Manuel arrived with the pie, along with two forks.
Throwing moderation to the winds, she plowed into a five-inch-high chunk just so she wouldn’t say anything stupid for a while. The pie kept them busy and became a battle of the forks. Brody was laughing. “You’re so skinny. I never would have figured you for a pie eater.”
“Well, you figured wrong.” She captured the last bite. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
He cocked his head, wearing that maddening grin. “Can’t wait to hear it.”
That chill again. They must have turned up the air conditioning.
Their meal finished, they wandered out onto the plaza. Benches studded the crisscrossed paths. Vendors had set up food trucks. The scent curled over the square, while a hobo band of musicians played in front of a small band shell.
Back in Michigan, ice floes were still melting from the shoreline. Spring flowers hadn’t even thought of blooming except for a brash crocus or two. Here the air softly teased tendrils from her tight braid. Music floated on the early afternoon air. “Is that Beethoven?”
“Does that surprise you?” He turned but those aviator sunglasses hid his eyes.
“Yes, I guess. Don’t know why.” She kept walking.
“Looks can be deceiving. Take you, for instance. Now, I know you as the attractive, sexy school teacher.”
Carolyn sucked in a breath. She wanted to be that woman.
“Who had all the guys drooling in high school.”
“No.” Exhaling, she shook her head vehemently. “Not true.”
“You don’t seem to realize that. Amazing.” Brody raised his brows and shrugged. Then he led her to the left. Native Americans displayed jewelry in the shade of the loggia that ran along Palace of the Governors. Stunning bracelets, earrings and key fobs were spread out on blankets, watchful artists sitting against the wall.
Brody picked up the conversation. “A lot of guys went off to college in search of a girl with blonde hair who reminded them of Miss Knight.”
“They did not.” Was that crazy or what? But she liked the idea. “Impossible.”
“They sure did.” He pulled the words out slowly. Was he talking about himself? “Not one could even come close.”
“That can’t be true,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.
“Cross my heart.” And he made that sign with his fingers on his jacket.
But it was her heart that galloped as they leaned closer to the silver designs winking in the sun. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Smell the unmistakable scent she was beginning to recognize.
Moving slowly down the row, Brody nodded to the artists, greeting some by name. The jewelry was so darn beautiful, mostly silver with turquoise or abalone shell. But one pair of earrings stood out. Shaped like a feather, they were long and dangly, kind of like the ones she’d worn years ago but much more beautiful.
Breaking away, she squatted. Above her, Brody asked the craftsmen questions. Words like “sterling” and “genuine turquoise” floated above her head while she tried to stay grounded. Then she straightened and he turned with a mysterious smile.
“See anything you like?”
“The feathers are my favorites.”
Too late. Before she could stop him, Brody had handed the glistening pair to the artist. The man’s weathered face creased into a smile. He scooped them up. The purchase was made so quickly and she felt uneasy. “I can’t accept these,” she breathed when Brody handed her the bag. Her fingers closed over it, too precious to refuse.
“Of course you can.” Taking her elbow, he maneuvered her across the street. She tucked the bag into her tote. Somehow, she’d make this up to him later.
Later? Would there be a later with Brody?
Cutting across a corner of the square, they window-shopped. If only her friend Diana could see this. Behind the glass, colors exploded. Mama V must shop here. Everything was so different from Michigan or Chicago, from embroidered blouses to fringed suede jackets. Together they wandered from window to window, passing hats like Brody’s, belts with shiny buckles, even long coats with fur collars. “Must get cold here in the winter.”
“We’re in the mountains, and we do get snow,” he said. “On Christmas Eve, Canyon Road will be all lit up with those small bags.”
“Luminaries?” she murmured.
“You’ve seen them?”
“No, but my grandmother told me about them. I came right after Christmas this year, when
she, you know...”
“Had her accident,” he prompted.
But she didn’t want to talk about it. Things still weren’t clear in her head. How had her grandmother gone from the patient she’d helped through a health crisis to the ecstatic woman, head over heels in love?
Whoa. Was that possible? Her grandmother was in love?
That brought a whole new dimension to this visit.
~.~
Brody watched emotions ripple across Carolyn Knight’s face as if it were a movie screen. Did she ever have a thought that didn’t show on her face? He’d always liked that about her. Back in high school, he enjoyed reading her expressions more than the Cliff Notes stuffed in his locker.
Pulling away from the store window, she said, “I should get back.”
“We’re parked around the next corner.” He wasn’t ready to take her home and didn’t really know why. Why had he driven past her grandmother’s house this morning? If she hadn’t been outside, would he have gone on? Left Carolyn Knight in his past?
Justine would be furious if one of her friends saw him in the plaza with another woman. Wasn’t hard to picture his current girlfriend going ballistic. And she didn’t deserve that. Was Justine his girlfriend? She’d known from the start that it wasn’t serious. Said as much.
His casual dating pattern was getting old. Hell, he was getting old. But no one had given him reason to stay. The women were more friends than lovers. He’d started to lose hope. Wondered why people ever got married in the first place.
Carolyn was quiet on the way home. Saturday and damn, he had a date tonight. For a second, he thought of breaking it. But Justine would have his head...or something else more personal and painful. Santa Fe was a small town. Indecision buzzed in his cluttered mind.
Heading back up Canyon Road, he took his time. His gut churned while he wondered how to handle this. Because right now, his head was full of Carolyn Knight, like an old obsession come to roost. Was that another mixed metaphor? Smiling, he couldn’t believe what she had him thinking about.
Carolyn turned. “What? Did you forget where my grandmother lives?” she asked sweetly, pointing. “It’s right up ahead. Third gallery on the right. Then turn down the alley.”
“Yeah. I see it.” As if he were that clueless.
A sweet navy blue Jaguar sat in front of her grandmother’s house. The sun bounced off its shiny hood, like it had just been washed. Who the hell washed their car in Santa Fe? Brody parked behind it. The jaguar had a vanity plate. “Jewels?”
A frown wrinkled Carolyn’s forehead when he opened her door. She slid out, one long leg after the other. Her eyes were on the man sitting on her porch. “Hi, Carolyn.” The guy waved.
Brody clenched his jaw so tight, his molars hurt. Getting to his feet, the visitor looked at Carolyn with puppy dog eyes. He knew that look. Felt it deep in his gut, times ten.
“Hi, Alan,” Carolyn said as they walked up onto the porch.
Navy blue blazer and neatly pressed gray slacks. Gold cufflinks and a designer tie. Well hello, Dapper Dan.
“Do you two know each other?” Carolyn’s eyes circled between them.
“Brody Wolf.” He held out one hand.
“Alan Haynes. Nice to meet you.” But he sure didn’t look thrilled. Alan Hayes had one of those hands that was always damp.
“Brody’s my student,” Carolyn threw the words up like a shield. Brody looked at her. Really? “We ran into each other at the airport.”
Oh, great. Had he been labeled and dismissed? Brody wasn’t liking this at all. Alan traded his frown for a smug smile. Oh well, that explains everything.
No, Alan. No, it does not. Brody jiggled his keys.
Carolyn turned to him. “Alan is...”—wait for it—”...a friend of my grandmother’s.”
This just got better and better. Carolyn’s “friend” didn’t like his category either. The English teacher had slotted them each into a box.
Alan’s attention turned to Carolyn. “I thought you were going to visit the shop this afternoon.” The words held faint accusation. Brody almost roared.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She pressed a hand to her lips. The lips Brody was becoming obsessed with. Soft and sweet. That’s how they’d feel. Kissable. His body began to react, like Pavlov’s dog.
Down, boy. Think of snow-capped mountains.
“I forgot,” Carolyn said.
Alan checked his watch. “Well, there’s still time. Even if Dad’s closed the store, I could show you around.”
Dad? The flash of what sure as hell felt like jealousy whipped through Brody.
“Oh, sure. Right. If you’ll just give me a minute?” Hand on the front door, she turned to him, a question in her eyes.
Carolyn looked tired, but she’d give this guy the afternoon? She’d been like that in high school. Sometimes Brody would drop in after the last bell with some lame excuse, like he wanted to check on the homework assignment. Right. Like that would ever happen. But if he wasn’t the first guy in the door, he didn’t bother. They would be lined up, offering to fix a window or a squeaky chair. Crazy stuff. Looking tired after the day of classes, she never saw through them. Sweet Miss Knight.
She was sweet all right.
“Look, I’ve got to run.” He tipped his hat. “See you later, Carolyn.”
Her intake of breath at hearing her first name in front of her friend made Brody smile. Alan’s face froze.
Miss Knight, my ass. No more of that. He hummed all the way to the car.
Chapter 5
Carolyn strained to listen, covers pulled up to her chin. No manly snores coming from across the hall. Okay, good. She listened harder. No quiet conversation in the kitchen either. Just the comforting smell of toast. Falling back on the pillow, she wriggled deeper into the warm bed. Outside her window a mourning dove cooed, answered by her mate. Snug in her grandmother’s casita, she relished the smells and sounds. Even though Mama V may have lured her here under false pretenses, Carolyn was so happy to be in Santa Fe.
Brody. How nice to see a student again.
But her tingling breasts and the nervous swirl of her stomach told her he might be more than that. Was this foreshadowing?
Carolyn often thought of life in the literary terms she used in class. But if this was foreshadowing, what was still to come?
Oh, lordy. This was just plain stupid.
His Hotness? He probably was just being nice to his “favorite teacher,” if she were to believe that. Had she imagined that dancing light in his eyes? The casual brush of his body against hers as they walked yesterday? She’d tried on the earrings the minute she got in the house after touring Haynes Jewelry. The simple silver feathers were so much more attractive than all that garish gold in Howard’s shop.
Although Alan wanted to take her out for dinner last night, she’d pleaded off. Mama V had planned some girl time. They’d driven to a casual restaurant with a cowgirl theme for burgers. After gossiping and giggling with her grandmother, Carolyn had gone to bed early. Had she dreamt that she heard Howard’s voice in the living room?
Restless, she threw back the quilt. Her grandmother went easy on the heat. When Carolyn pressed her bare feet squarely onto the pine floor, the cold woke her up fast. Grabbing her robe, she scurried out the door and into the bathroom.
Five minutes later, she was seated at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and an English muffin. Her grandmother was fussing over her. She loved it. Carolyn pulled one bare foot up under her and took a sip of coffee.
“So what did you think of Howard’s shop?” Mama V’s eyes burned with curiosity.
“It’s lovely.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Getting up, her grandmother rummaged around in the refrigerator, her lilac and pink caftan billowing around her.
“All that purple velvet,” Carolyn said. Lengths of luscious purple velvet was draped in the cases, setting off gleaming gold, sparkling diamonds and other precious stones. “Looks like Howard knows what he�
�s doing. Well, and Alan of course.” But clearly, his father ran that show.
“Yes, he does. The color of royalty. Perfect backdrop, right?”
The words so obviously came from Howard that Carolyn smiled. “I guess so but I like silver. It’s so simple.”
“What’s that, sweetheart?” Returning with a jar of marmalade, Mama V sat down. “You’re getting a pimple?”
Horrified, Carolyn ran a hand over her face. “Am I?”
“Oh, no. Not at all.” Looking flustered, Mama V struggled with the top on the jar. Taking it, Carolyn quickly twisted it open.
Sighing with satisfaction, she spread a thick layer of marmalade over the toasted surface. “Have I only been here a day? Seems like I’ve been so busy.”
Mama V chuckled. “Oh, my. Two men. Every girl should be so lucky.”
Carolyn nearly choked on her muffin. “Don’t get any ideas. Alan’s a new acquaintance. And Brody’s just one of my students.”
“You sure that’s all, honey?” her grandmother murmured as she nibbled.
“Of course. Former student.”
“And Alan’s just an acquaintance? What do you think of him?”
Did Mama V have hopes about Howard’s son? She hated to disappoint her. “I just met him.”
“He just seems like such a catch. Good-looking. Settled and all that.”
“Maybe. He just seems older. Like Howard’s younger brother, not his son. Hey, are you matchmaking for me?” She should be appreciative. How long since her last date?
Her grandmother’s lips pursed. “I just thought you two might have something in common, that’s all.”
What? Like we’re both single? That didn’t seem like enough to ensure compatibility. “We’ll see. He’s taking me on a tour of Santa Fe today.”
“Wonderful.” Mama V clasped her hands together.
“You don’t mind, do you? I feel terrible coming all this way—”
“To push me around in a wheelchair,” her grandmother said with a mischievous grin.