Hot Fudge And Peppermint Part 11

"I like it anyway," she said. The nicest part was that he'd considered her needs before buying it.

He set his gla.s.s down and took her hand between both of hers. "How are you doing this week?"

She leaned back on the surprisingly-comfortable sofa. "Good. No crises or anything to make me skip my lunch break."

"What do you do at lunchtime? Go home and rest?"

She shook her head. "I just go out to my car, put the seat back down, and meditate. It helps relax some of the tension in my neck and upper back. And either then or when I come back inside, I have a nutrition drink and a bunch of my pills."

"Pills? I thought you didn't take drugs normally."

"Nutritional supplements," she explained. "I got a four- page handout from my doctor about fibro and nutrition. It talks about what foods to eat and not eat, and also what special nutrients my body needs.That's where I found out about all the supplements I take - acidophilus and grape seed extract and the others. There are a lot of them, so I split them up and take some with each meal."

"Speaking of which, I'd better go finish dinner."

Bill enjoyed cooking for an appreciative female audience, and Nik was definitely that. She sat on a stool at the breakfast bar watching him finish their meal, then ate every morsel on her plate, plus a second helping of salad. She refused more pasta when he told her there was dessert. He didn't mention what it was, though, and mentally crossed his fingers that it was as good an idea as he'd thought last night.

He cleared the table and told her to go into the living room and sit down. He'd bring dessert to her. As he handed it to her a couple of minutes later, he said, "This is my favorite dessert. It has been ever since that night at the campus snack bar." The first time he ate it. And the first time he kissed her.

Her eyes widened and she glanced down. "Hot fudge and peppermint ice cream? I would have thought you'd hate it."

They both knew she was referring to the ice-cream-in-the- pants incident, and that was part of why he'd served it. He shook his head. "No way. I had that coming - I knew it even then. I mean, not that I thought I was doing anything wrong, but I knew I'd be in trouble if you found out." He took a deep breath, wondering again if he wanted to admit this next part. He decided he did. "And truthfully, as awful as that ice cream felt, I was glad you reacted that way instead of crying." He wouldn't tell her that he'd become famous for the incident, so famous that guys who'd lived in the same dorm years later sometimes bought him drinks at alumni parties.

"I'm not a crier," she said softly.

He knew from her reaction that he hadn't handled this well. He touched her arm and said, "Nik, I know I was a jerk back then, and I'm sorry. That girl didn't mean a thing, even back then, and you always have.

You deserve to hate me for what I did, and maybe that's how you've felt about me all these years. But I haven't hated you. You've been a special memory to me, and I always remember the taste of hot fudge and peppermint ice cream when I think of you. That's what you tasted like when I kissed you that night."

She smiled gently. "Thanks for telling me that." She spooned up a bite and let it melt in her mouth. "It's just like I remember it."

In his mind, it was even better. He knew how lucky he was this time.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

The next Wednesday, Nik had only been in her office a few minutes when the phone rang. "h.e.l.lo, this is Nik Harding."

"Nik! Are you okay?" It was Neal and he sounded worried.

"Yeah. Why?" Why was he asking, and why was he calling at this hour? Neal had never been a morning person.

"Because you didn't call me back last night, and you didn't answer your phone this morning, either."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I was at Bill's and forgot to check my messages." "You were at Bill's on a weeknight?" He sounded incredulous, and she wasn't surprised. She was a little astounded herself. "I'm guessing he's not quite as much of a jerk as you thought he was."

Bratty little brother! Quoting her own words back at her. "Maybe not," she admitted. Changing the subject, she asked, "So why did you call last night? Anything special?"

He laughed, obviously not fooled for a second by her motive for asking. "I was reminding you about Thanksgiving dinner. Marian's friends are all going away, so it'll just be you, me, Marian, and Bill."

"Bill!"

"Yeah, Bill. Unless he's got plans already." He said it with certainty, like of course Bill belonged in their little family unit.

Okay, well, inviting him to Thanksgiving dinner didn't have to mean that. It could mean that if he happened to be available, he was being offered a good meal. "I don't know. I'll see."

"Tell him we really want him to come. Marian would like to meet him and I want to show him some of my paintings." Of course he did. Neal had really looked up to Bill when he knew him before. It was only natural he'd be anxious to impress him with his skills now - especially since Dad and Nathan were so clueless about his art.

"I will," she promised.

For Neal's sake, not her own.

"This road goes straight up!" Bill commented as he downs.h.i.+fted. He wouldn't want Nik to know it, but he was glad to have a chance to test his car's acceleration like this. Driving around Beaverton and Tigard was more of an exercise in dealing with traffic than a chance to see what his car would do.

"Wait until you see the hairpin turns farther up the mountain," she said, and he knew she was grinning from her tone of voice.

This was fun. The road looked to be ascending at about a forty-five degree angle, but he knew that wasn't likely. It was dead-straight for at least the next mile, though, and there wasn't anybody on the road in front of him. He could downs.h.i.+ft and floor the accelerator all he wanted.

A couple of minutes later, she said, "I wouldn't want to have to drive down these roads when there's snow and ice, but Neal doesn't mind. Of course, he's driving a 4-wheel job with high clearance and anti-lock brakes, but still..."

Before he had a chance to answer her, the road disappeared around a steep curve. He followed the road to his right, then to the left, to the left again, and finally an even sharper right, all within a distance of a few hundred yards. They were still ascending the mountain, but thankfully at a more gradual pace than before.

"Wow! That must be the hairpin turn you mentioned."

"The first of two," she said. "The next one's the real doozy." After about a mile, the road started getting noticeably steeper. "You'll want to watch it up here. It's just a single turn, but it's sharp and the road is angled and narrow, and the ditch on this side isn't very good. Plus, you might meet somebody coming down, and neither of you would know it until you're practically on top of each other."

He slowed down and was immediately glad that he had. The turn was just as impressive as Nik said, andhis lane seemed abnormally narrow. As soon as he'd made the corner, he had to downs.h.i.+ft and accelerate sharply to keep his momentum going. Why would anyone want to live somewhere so difficult to get to?

He had a partial answer in a minute or so, when he glanced off to the left and saw Mt Hood in all its glory. Its perfect white cone shape perched on a lower ridge of mountains, and it looked nearly close enough to touch. "Great view," he commented.

"Wait until you see it from Marian's. Rainier's even visible some days." Mt Rainier was many miles north of Portland, most of the way to Seattle.

The road took two more of its sudden turns, one to the right and the next to the left, and then it appeared like they were driving on the edge of a cliff. Just past the edge of Nik's side of the car, there was nothing.

He craned his neck and saw a steep drop-off dotted with tree stumps. He slowed down a little out of self-preservation.

"Turn left up there where you see the mailboxes on the right." He drove up the driveway, mildly surprised to find it paved. "Take the first driveway, up at the top of the hill." That one wasn't paved, and gravel crunched under his wheels. "Park anywhere here at the end." He found room between the two big SUVs beside the house.

The house was a log cabin - a huge one, from its looks, and made from real logs. The air was clear and significantly colder than it had been when they left Nik's. It was breezier, too, and a glance to his right told him why. They were on top of this mountain, with only a few incredibly tall and fragile- seeming fir trees between them and whatever weather system might be moving in. It was quiet here, too, so much so that there might be no humans around for miles.

But then the front door opened and Neal came rus.h.i.+ng out. "How'd you like the drive up here? And isn't this the greatest place?" His questions were addressed to Bill, but he didn't seem to expect a response.

"Come on in and meet Marian."

The inside was a jolt, although it shouldn't have been. If the outside was a log cabin, the inside would logically be the same. Still, all the warm honey-colored wood was overwhelming. Not only were the outside walls made of logs, but nearly everything else was wood, too. The main part of the cabin was two stories high, with the ceiling simply the inside of the cabin's peaked roof. It was paneled with wood, as was the lower ceiling in the kitchen area at the far end of the living room. And overhead were two loft areas, connected by a walkway, and all of that was exposed wood, too.

He followed Neal to the kitchen, his eyes still so overloaded he barely noticed the person he was being taken to meet. But then she looked up from something she was stirring on the stove, and he was shocked all over again. Marian was old! When Neal had said she was older, Bill had figured mid-thirties, maybe as much as forty, but certainly not fifty or sixty like she appeared. She wasn't attractive, either - almost mannish in looks and clothing, and nothing that resembled a normal shape.

She smiled then and offered her hand, and Neal sidled up next to her and slipped his arm around her, grinning happily. Was Neal a great actor, or did he really think she was something special?

Nik never knew whether Neal was putting on a show of caring about Marian in front of her. She could understand him feeling grateful to her - in addition to everything else, he was meeting important people in the local art scene thanks to her. But hugging her and touching her and gazing fondly at her - all in the same incredibly natural way he did everything - that wasn't grat.i.tude. It was a lot like how Bill acted withher, in fact.

Marian had a way of making people feel comfortable with her, though. After less than five minutes, she'd worked her magic on Bill. Nik had seen her do it time and again, and all she could figure was that Marian didn't seem like a threat to anybody. She was simply warm and open and friendly, without being the slightest bit intrusive. She turned now and gave Neal a soft smile. "Sweetie, why don't you show off your paintings while I finish getting dinner ready?"

"Don't you need help?" he asked, but from the way his eyes were s.h.i.+ning, Nik knew how eager he was.

"I'll help Marian while you take Bill upstairs," Nik volunteered. At Neal's surprised look, she added, "I'm feeling really good today." She'd been feeling really good for a while now, and she was starting to worry a little, in fact. It wasn't natural to be good for so long at a stretch.

"I'd like to see your work," Bill said and they started upstairs.

"Be sure to show him the one you're working on," Marian called up to him. To Nik, she said, "I think it's his best yet. I'm eager for him to finish it so I can show it to a few of my friends. He's going to start selling regularly before long - but don't tell him I said that. I don't want to get his hopes up."

Her stomach felt fluttery. "He's doing well, then. I'm so pleased."

Marian gave her an understanding smile. "I know you worry about him - and about us. But you don't need to. He's going to be a wonderful artist, and I'm just glad I could help him get started." Her voice caught and she muttered, "d.a.m.n allergies."

Nik waited a few seconds before asking, "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing, really. I'm just finis.h.i.+ng up the gravy, and everything else's ready for the table." She worked quietly for a couple of minutes, then said quietly, "Be sure to ask how that cloud picture turned out - you know the one I mean?"

"The one with the valley full of clouds, and the sunny day up here? Did it turn out well?"

Marian smiled secretively. "You'll have to ask Neal."

Only by exerting her self-control to the max - difficult while simultaneously stuffing her face with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a dozen other wonderful dishes - was she able to wait until dessert to ask. "Say, Neal, how did that cloud picture turn out?"

He grinned - literally - from ear to ear. "Great! One of Marian's friends was over and he bought it!

Marian made him pay $500!"

Nik's heart lurched with pride. "That's great, Neal!"

Bill loved it when Nik lay pliant and languid in his arms like this. It only happened after lovemaking, the kind that started deceptively relaxed and ended with the urgency and power of a freight train at full speed.

The moment was shattered by the shrill of the phone. Nik reached to answer it, but he didn't let go of her entirely. "H'lo?" She listened, then said, "Hi, Neal. No, I wasn't sleeping." Another pause and she laughed. "Never mind what I was doing, little brother! What's on your mind?" While she listened that time, Bill took the opportunity to kiss her neck just below her earlobe. She tensed, and he knew she was trying to ignore the kiss, so he used his tongue to intensify the sensation.

She turned her head, but he moved with her. Her voice wasn't quite natural when she answered Neal. "I don't know. I'll check with Bill and get back to you." She put her free hand on his head and shoved ineffectually, then in response to something Neal said, she said, "Oh, all right. Hold on."

She carefully m.u.f.fled the receiver under the covers and asked, "Stop molesting me for a minute, will you?

Neal and Marian want us to go there for dinner again tonight - there's tons of leftovers, plus Neal forgot to make Grandma's scalloped oysters for yesterday, so we'd have those, too."

He moved his head away from her neck a few inches. "It's okay with me, but can you eat that rich food again so soon?"

She made a face and shrugged. "I probably shouldn't, but I want to."

He grinned, happy that she was willing to admit to him that she was human. "Then we'll go."

She picked up the phone happily and made arrangements about what time dinner would be. When she hung up, he asked, "Should I interpret the fact that we're having oysters for dinner as dissatisfaction with my performance recently?"

It took her a few seconds to make the connection between oysters and aphrodisiacs, but when she did, her eyebrows soared. "No way! In fact, maybe you shouldn't eat any of them!"

He wasn't particularly crazy about oysters, but shook his head anyway. "I'll have to try them at least.

They must be something special, if Neal's forgetting them is a big deal."

She smiled, looking a little embarra.s.sed. "We like them, but not everyone does. A lot of it's tradition - Grandma always made them when she came for Thanksgiving dinner."

"Was that the grandmother who owned this house?"

"Yeah. Mom's mom. Besides us visiting her summers, she'd come for a week both Thanksgiving and Christmas. If it wasn't for her, we would have ended up eating dinner out until I got big enough to cook."

He felt a pang of sympathy, even though in his family, dinner out would have been an incomprehensible treat. "Your dad isn't much of a cook, then?"

She grinned momentarily. "You're right. He tried, but it was a big relief to him when I got old enough to take over the house and all that. Neal helped a lot - in fact, until I got to know you again, he was the most domesticated guy I knew."

He growled playfully and nipped her shoulder. "Here I spend years learning how to drive women wild in bed, and all you can say about me is that I'm more domesticated than your little brother?"

She rapped his nose firmly. "No biting! We're going out for dinner, remember - and if you're good, maybe I'll give you a chance to remind me of some of your other good qualities later."

"Maybe you will? Well, maybe I'll oblige you." He settled her back into a loose embrace, deciding to take advantage of the fact that she seemed willing to talk about the past. "How'd you end up coming to Portland after college? To live with your grandmother?"

She shook her head. "I didn't live with her. I guess maybe it was partly because she was here, though. I had job offers up in Seattle, too, but I thought Oregon was less overwhelming, and I liked the way there'sopen land so close to the city. I thought I might eventually want to live out in the country, and it seemed neat that I could still be close to work." She glanced toward the window, and he knew she was thinking about the thousands of other people that lived almost next-door to her.

"Did you ever end up doing that - live out in the country like Neal and Marian?"

"No, and seeing the reality of it, I'm glad. I lived in a couple of different apartments near DesignTek until about three years ago when Grandma had her stroke. I moved here when she was getting ready to get out of the hospital and couldn't live alone anymore. Then she left it to me when she died, and that was lucky because I couldn't go back where I'd come from."

Something about her tone of voice made him ask, "Why not?"

She sighed and shook her head, and he thought she wasn't going to answer. But after a little while, she said, "I was engaged to this guy I knew at work and we were sharing an apartment. He didn't like it when I moved out to help Grandma, and then after she died, I started getting sick. I didn't know it was fibro for a long time, in fact I thought I was just exhausted from everything that had happened. Things between us really fell apart then, and if it hadn't been for Neal, I don't know if I ever would have gotten back together."

Several missing pieces popped into place. "That's why you've been so sure a relations.h.i.+p with me wouldn't work."

She nodded unhappily. "You're way different than Allen, of course, but still..." She sucked in a deep breath and added, "And I know, for myself, what a strain it is to constantly need to take care of someone. Even though I loved Grandma very much, sometimes I just got so frustrated with having to help her all the time. And doing the same things, day after day after day, that she couldn't do for herself."