That Certain Summer Read online

  Her smile was gratifying . . . but it didn’t counter the sudden panic that swept over him.

  Because he wasn’t ready to take this step yet. To venture back into the world. To interact with people. To act as if everything was normal when it wasn’t, and never would be again.

  But she’d pushed him into a corner.

  And he couldn’t think of a way to back out.

  5

  “Val? Could I speak with you for a moment?”

  At David’s summons, Val set aside the Hollywood gossip magazine she’d been flipping through. “Sure. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. I just wanted to discuss a few updates to your mother’s program while she works on one of the pieces of equipment.” He stepped aside to let her pass, gesturing toward his office. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “That would be nice, thanks.”

  “Cream or sugar?”

  “Black.”

  “A woman after my own heart—straight and strong. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

  They parted at the door to his office, but in less than sixty seconds he was back with two steaming disposable cups. After handing her one, he picked up a folder from the top of a file cabinet and dropped into the chair beside her. “I added two more exercises to your mother’s routine, and I wanted to run over them with you. How’s she been doing with the program at home?”

  “She doesn’t like the exercises, and she’s very vocal about letting me know it. But I have a secret weapon that always deflects the complaints.”

  “What?”

  “You.” When he tipped his head and sent her a questioning look, she smiled. “All I have to say is that you’ll be disappointed if she slacks off, and she buckles down. You must have the magic touch.”

  He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Hardly. I have plenty of patients who grumble at me.”

  “None of them women, I bet.”

  Much to Val’s surprise, a flush rose on his neck. How endearing was that? A man who was actually embarrassed by a compliment.

  Instead of responding, David leaned forward to put his coffee cup on the edge of the desk. To hide the blush, perhaps?

  Even more endearing.

  As he changed position, a loose sheet of paper on top of the folder slipped to the floor. They both bent to retrieve it, their heads colliding with a jarring bump.

  “Ow!” Val jerked back and clapped a hand to her forehead.

  “Sorry about that. Are you okay?” David touched her shoulder.

  One side of her mouth hitched up as she rubbed her temple. “I have a hard head. I’ll live.”

  “Let me see.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Let me have a look anyway.”

  He leaned over to move her hand aside, and the warmth of his fingers against her cool skin sent a bolt of heat ricocheting through her.

  What in the world . . . ?

  Val stared at him. At this proximity, she could see tiny flecks of gold in his vivid green eyes and faint lines etched at the corners that told her he smiled often. As for those supple lips that looked eminently kissable . . .

  Don’t go there!

  With a supreme effort, she lowered her gaze.

  Big mistake.

  His taut T-shirt was stretched across his muscular chest, and those impressive biceps she’d noticed at their first meeting were now mere inches from her face.

  All at once, she had to fight the urge to fan herself.

  Had someone turned on the heat in here?

  He tugged at her hand, his touch gentle. “Come on, Val. Let me see. You might need some ice on that.”

  She looked into his eyes again, and his hand stilled. A mere fraction of a second passed . . . but long enough for her to suspect he was experiencing a reaction to their nearness that was very similar to hers.

  Her suspicion was confirmed when he abruptly dropped his hand and cleared his throat.

  In the charged silence that followed, Val searched for something . . . anything . . . to say. Drew a blank.

  What was wrong with her, anyway? Vocal Val, as her high school yearbook had pegged her, was never at a loss for words—except the moniker wasn’t fitting so well at the moment.

  Shifting in her seat, she tucked her hair behind her ear, leaving her forehead exposed.

  “Wow!” David’s eyes widened. “You do have a bump! Let me get some ice.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “It’ll just take a minute.” He was already half out of his chair.

  She opened her mouth to protest. Closed it. A brief time-out would give her a chance to regain control of her emotions.

  As he disappeared through the door, she collapsed back in her seat and let out a long, shaky breath.

  Talk about being blindsided.

  Sure, David was attractive—but she’d been around plenty of attractive men in her theater work and had long ago learned to steel herself against their charms.

  Trouble was, her mother’s physical therapist had launched a sneak attack.

  Except attack wasn’t quite accurate. There had been nothing deliberate in his actions. No intent to make her hormones go haywire, even if that had been the outcome.

  So why had his closeness had such a dramatic effect on her?

  Frowning, Val tapped a polished nail against the arm of her chair. Could it be that she’d simply been unprepared? After all, she hadn’t expected to have to protect her heart from anyone in Washington—especially her mother’s therapist. A man with a wife and child.

  Yeah, that had to be it. He’d caught her off guard.

  But why? With his boy-next-door looks, David was 180 degrees away from the dark, brooding sort of man she’d always found appealing. Plus, he seemed grounded, certain of his place in the world, a man whose values were solid and who had a clear sense of direction.

  In other words, he was her polar opposite.

  So what was the appeal?

  The answer eluded her.

  All she knew was that she needed to get her reaction under control. Fast.

  Wrapping her fingers around the disposable cup, Val took a fortifying sip of the strong brew and gave herself a pep talk.

  You’ll be fine. Now that you’re aware of the problem, you’ll be on guard in the future. Just remain calm, cool, and aloof—and keep reminding yourself he’s married and off-limits. This is just some weird chemistry thing.

  Right.

  She took a deep breath. Let it out. Took another.

  Okay. Better. She had it under control.

  Yet as she set the cup back on the desk, she noticed her hand was trembling.

  Just like her heart.

  And there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to stabilize either.

  Juggling the ice pack in his hand, David paused outside the door to his office. Wishing he could avoid going back inside.

  How was he supposed to deal with all the electricity zinging between him and Val—especially when he had no idea what had prompted it?

  It wasn’t her lovely face or great figure or the honey-blonde hair that called out to be touched, that much he knew. He’d run into plenty of attractive women in the past few years who’d sent clear signals about their interest, yet none of them had knocked him off balance like this.

  And he didn’t like this slightly out-of-control, unsettled feeling.

  At all.

  His fingers started to grow numb, and he switched the ice pack to his other hand. Even as a teen with raging hormones, he’d kept his emotions on a tight leash and stuck to the principles of his faith. Unlike a lot of his buddies, he’d never gotten carried away and done things he later regretted.

  But he had the distinct feeling Val could easily carry him away and leave him with regrets.

  The question was, why?

  He transferred the ice pack again and raked his fingers through his hair.

  This didn’t make sense.

  He hadn’t even thought about her since their first encounte
r. Settling into life in Washington and worrying about whether Victoria was adjusting had required his total focus.

  But today those deep blue eyes had sucked him in again, just as they had at their first meeting. And like that first day, he sensed that beneath the confident facade she presented to the world, Val was vulnerable. Searching. Scared. Unsure of her future. Alone.

  As he was.

  Could loneliness have prompted that buzz of attraction?

  Maybe—on his end, anyway. Victoria’s exuberant joy and boundless love might soothe his soul and give meaning to his days, but it couldn’t take the place of love shared with a special woman. The kind he hoped to find again someday.

  But not yet.

  And not with Val.

  She was only here for a few weeks, and he wasn’t interested in a summer fling.

  Bracing himself, he twisted the knob, reentered the office, and handed her the ice pack.

  “Thanks.” She gave him a polite but distant smile as she took it, careful not to let her fingers come into contact with his.

  The tension in his gut relaxed. They seemed to be on the same page about how to deal with the unexpected high-voltage electricity between them. Good.

  “No problem.” He picked up his file and moved behind his desk.

  She pressed the pack to her forehead while he explained the changes to her mother’s program. Thanked him again when he finished. Politely shook his hand before she exited the office and disappeared down the hall.

  But as he picked up the file for his next patient and stood, David realized she’d left something behind.

  A faint, appealing fragrance that was a little exotic. A touch alluring. And hard to forget.

  Just like the woman herself.

  “Tell me how Mom liked the ratatouille.” Karen dropped a box of low-fat, low-sodium, whole wheat crackers into her shopping cart as Val read the label on the package in her hand.

  “She said it was edible. Trust me, that’s high praise in light of some of the comments my culinary efforts have prompted.”

  “It smelled delicious. Is it hard to make?”

  “Piece of cake. I jotted down the recipe for you, plus the ones for the stir-frys I mentioned on our first outing in case you want to try them too.” Val withdrew several index cards from her purse and handed them over.

  As Karen perused them, she pushed her cart past a cookie display. Val was right. The recipes were neither difficult nor time-consuming. “These sound very healthy.”

  “And they’re good too. A winning combination.”

  “I wonder if Kristen would like them. She’s developed some weird eating habits lately. For a while, she wouldn’t eat meat. Next, she was off carbs. Desserts were on the restricted list for several weeks too. And it’s not like she needs to lose weight. She’s thin as a rail.”

  “Sometimes people focus on food because it’s one of the few things they can regulate when other parts of their life are out of control.”

  “Like the divorce?” Karen tried to keep her voice nonchalant as she checked one of the stir-fry recipes and put a bag of brown rice in her cart. Even after a year and a half, it was hard to talk about the mess she’d made of her life without getting emotional.

  “Could be. I deal with teenagers every day. They try to act cool, but most of them are insecure. They can behave in unacceptable ways for all kinds of reasons—to get attention, or to exert control over their lives when things at home are in an uproar, or it can just be a simple cry for help. That’s why I enjoy teaching drama. If I can help them channel some of those energies through theater, act out some of those emotions on stage, maybe they won’t feel the need to do things in real life they might later regret.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  The ghost of a smile flitted across Val’s lips. “I do have a deep thought or two on occasion.” She paused at the poultry section. “Did you want to get some chicken for that stir-fry?”

  “Yeah. I think I will.” Karen rummaged around in the bin and selected a package of chicken breasts. “How did you learn so much about teenagers?”

  “Experience. Been there, done that.”

  “I did too, but I didn’t come away with all those great insights.”

  “That’s because you had your act together.”

  Karen gave an unladylike snort that would have drawn a disapproving look from her mother. “Not even close.”

  Val shook her head. “Sorry. Not buying. You always had your head on straight, and you never struggled with a lot of the conflicts kids deal with at that age.”

  “Are you kidding? I felt like conflict was my middle name. I just kept my feelings bottled up, toed the line, and did what was expected. More to try and win Mom’s approval than anything.”

  “That was a lost cause.” Val selected some yogurt, and Karen added a few containers to her cart too.

  “Yeah, I know. It still is.”

  “Then why keep trying?” Val led the way to the checkout.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged at the question that had plagued her for years. “I wish I could be more like you and let her criticism roll off. But it bothers me.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?” Val leaned close and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as they got in line. “It bothers me too.”

  Karen didn’t try to hide her skepticism. “Not that I ever saw.”

  “Cross my heart. But I learned long ago not to let her know that. It only motivates her to criticize more. Instead, I pretend like nothing she says ruffles me.”

  “Now I really am in awe of your acting talents.” Aiming an admiring glance her sister’s direction, Karen nudged her cart forward. “I had no idea Mom was able to get under your skin.”

  “Mom doesn’t, either. Let’s keep it our little secret, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  As she began unloading her cart, Karen took a quick inventory. Fresh vegetables, yogurt, lean meat—what a change from two weeks ago. She picked up a bag of Fritos. Started to lay it on the conveyor. Hesitated when she realized Val was watching her.

  “I know Fritos aren’t all that healthy, but they’d be hard to give up.”

  “You don’t have to give up everything you like. Almost anything is okay in moderation.” Val dug a bag of M&M’s from beneath a package of bean sprouts in her cart. “My weakness. But I limit myself to a couple dozen a day.”

  “You’d better hide those or Mom will clean you out.”

  “Don’t worry. They’re stashed in with the tofu. Trust me, she’ll never look there.”

  Laughter bubbled up inside her. Had Val always had such a great sense of humor—or had she honed it in her theater work? Whatever, Karen was still smiling when they finished checking out and settled in for their weekly latte at the coffee shop next door.

  “I forgot how hot and humid it can be in Washington this early in the summer.” Val fanned herself with a paper napkin as they chose a table near the blower from the air conditioner. “I may have to switch to frappuccino.”

  “Yeah. And we might need to reverse our agenda and have our coffee first. I don’t want to leave meat in the car for too long in this weather. Especially chicken.”

  “Good point. You’ll have to tell me how Kristen likes those recipes I gave you, by the way.”

  Karen stirred her latte, watching the whipped cream dissolve in the dark liquid, diluting the blackness and tempering the strong taste with a touch of sweetness. “You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said in the store. How Kristen’s odd eating habits might be a control issue. Her fixation on food did start a few weeks after Michael and I separated.”

  “Divorce is hard on kids.”

  Taking a sip of her drink, she debated how much she could share and still preserve some dignity. The whole notion of talking about the breakup of her marriage left a bad taste in her mouth—but Val was sharp and insightful; she might have some good thoughts.

  Just do it, Karen. Take a chance. Don’t overanalyze ever
ything.

  Heart hammering, she fiddled with her napkin. “Part of the problem is that she’s never given up hope we’ll get back together.”

  “I thought Michael was involved with some student.”

  Margaret must have told her that; she’d certainly never discussed Michael’s love life with her sister.

  “He is. Stephanie. But on her last outing with them, Kristen sensed there was trouble in paradise.”

  “Hmm. I’ll bet the problem is he can’t keep up with her. What is she, twenty, twenty-five years younger than him?”

  “Something like that.”

  “He always did like younger women. You were almost a child when the two of you tied the knot.”

  “Twenty-one isn’t a child.”

  “Seems like it now.”

  “True.” Karen rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin in her hand. “You know, that was one of the few times I went against Mom’s wishes. She told me I was too young to get married and that I should finish school first. She predicted it would never last.”

  “I bet she’s never let you forget that, either.”

  “Bingo.”

  “I take it Kristen still misses her dad?”

  “Yeah. A lot. But I think she misses the whole notion of ‘family’ more.”

  Val sipped her drink, her expression thoughtful. “A lot of kids from troubled homes are actually happier after their parents separate.”

  “I guess we did too good a job of keeping up appearances. I don’t think Kristen suspected there were problems between us until Michael left.”

  Val squinted at her. “Why do I have a feeling you were the one who made the sacrifices to keep your home life as normal as possible?”

  “Because you have great instincts?”

  Val lifted her cup in mock salute. “All accolades graciously accepted.”

  “That wasn’t an empty compliment. You nailed it.” Karen stared down into her cup. Why not spill it all? Who knew what Margaret had passed on already, anyway—and what sort of spin she’d put on it? This way she could give Val her side of the sordid mess. “Things hadn’t been good between us for quite a while. I knew Michael was restless and unhappy, but I couldn’t understand why. I thought I was the model wife. I deferred to his opinions. I didn’t take offense at his condescending manner or bad moods. I overlooked his patronizing attitude about my faith.”