It Takes a Hero Page 9

  “I know you don’t need my permission. I thought you were asking for my advice.”

  “Not even that. I just wanted to let you know my plans.”

  “So you’re definitely going.”

  “I’ve already told him yes. I’m very excited about it, Kristin.”

  “Then I hope you have a wonderful time,” Kristin replied, knowing she had no other option. Her mother was an adult, after all. And she had always talked of visiting Australia someday. Kristin had no right to stand in her way just because she was worried about her.

  Or was her hesitation due entirely to worry? She couldn’t help wondering if part of her reservation came from sheer jealousy. Her mother was leaving for an exotic adventure with a dashing man, while Kristin would be staying behind with a looming deadline and a fear of getting involved with the only man who had interested her in a long time.

  Sophie deftly changed the subject. “Have you heard from Perry since he visited you?”

  “No, he hasn’t called. But I didn’t really expect him to.”

  “He said he would call, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but you know how it goes. People say that sort of thing all the time.”

  Sophie shook her head. “If Perry said he would call, hell call.”

  “And how would you know that? You’ve never even met Perry.”

  “I’ve seen him many times on TV. He has honest eyes. And I’m sure he’s smart enough to know what a catch you are.”

  Kristin rolled her eyes. “I am not a fish.”

  Laughing, Sophie refilled her glass. “No, but you’re a catch, anyway. Tell me more about him.”

  “There’s really not much more I can tell you about him than what you’ve gotten out of me over the phone. I really don’t know Perry all that well, and I don’t expect to see him again soon, if ever. I told him I’m very busy with my work right now.”

  “Darling, you may be busy, but you aren’t dead. You can’t just lock yourself up in this house. It’s no wonder you’re having trouble writing. You have to experience life to write about it.”

  “I’m hardly a hermit, Mom. In fact, I’ve been so busy ‘experiencing life’ lately, I’ve hardly had time to write.”

  Sophie didn’t buy that excuse. “You’ve taken one week off in the past four or five months. You’ve only been on one date since you got back from New York and that was only because Perry gave you little choice. You’re too young to lead such a quiet existence, sweetie. You need to live a little.”

  Kristin had heard this speech so many times her response was automatic. “I’m doing fine, Mom.”

  “That’s what you always say. But it doesn’t explain why you looked so worried when I got here. And it doesn’t explain why you have no time for a handsome, charming, exciting single man.”

  “So, when are you leaving for Australia?” At that moment, Kristin was almost tempted to help her mother pack.

  Fortunately, Sophie was excited enough about her upcoming trip that she fell for the obvious ruse to change the subject.

  PERRY REALLY KNEW BETTER than to keep showing up at Kristin’s door without calling first. Contrary to the evidence, his mother had raised him with better manners than that. But every time he’d picked up the phone to call her, he’d set it back down. He hadn’t wanted to hear her voice with too many miles between them. He hadn’t wanted to give her the chance to tell him she didn’t want to see him again.

  He wasn’t sure if his uninvited appearance at her door was an act of cowardice or bravery.

  It wasn’t Kristin who answered when he rang the doorbell. Perry blinked at the colorful sight that greeted him. The woman had flame-red hair and was draped in flowing, brightly hued clothing. Though her dark brown eyes were her only resemblance to Kristin, Perry recognized her, anyway, from the photograph on Kristin’s mantel. “You’re Kristin’s mother.”

  “Sophie Cole,” she said, giving him a bright smile. “And you’re Perry Goodman. What a pleasure it is to meet you.”

  He took her extended hand, liking her at first sight. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Cole. How was your parachute jump?”

  She laughed musically. “It was a blast. Please, come in, Mr. Goodman. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, thank you. And please, call me Perry.” He closed the door behind them, noting that Kristin wasn’t in sight

  Settling gracefully onto one end of the couch, Sophie waved him to a chair. “Kristin left just before you got here to pick up some things for dinner. She should be back in twenty minutes or so.”

  “She wasn’t expecting me. I’m afraid I’ve shown up without warning.”

  “Good move.” Sophie nodded firmly. “If you’d called, she’d have found an excuse to keep you away.”

  “That’s pretty much what I was thinking.” Because she seemed to be on his side, he asked frankly, ”Why is that, do you suppose? Is it something I’ve done?”

  “Oh, don’t take it personally. Kristin hasn’t dated anyone lately. I’ve spent all afternoon fussing at her about that...not that it does any good.”

  Perry thought of the photograph that had been bugging him for the past couple of days—the one in which Kristin had looked so intimate with the man at the amusement park. “Is it because of the man she was dating before? The big sandy-haired guy?”

  “Jim Hooper? She told you about him?” Sophie seemed surprised.

  “I accidentally saw a snapshot. She said you took it at an amusement park last year.”

  Sophie’s carefully penciled eyebrows drew into a frown. “We had taken Jim’s daughter Kimberly to the park for her birthday. Jim and Kristin broke up a week after those photographs were taken.”

  Perry tried to think of a relatively tactful way to ask a question that was absolutely none of his business.

  Sophie didn’t give him a chance to ask. “He went back to his wife, the jerk. After he spent months assuring Kristin that his marriage was completely over and that he had no feelings left for his wife, it turned out he’d been courting his ex again the whole time. He was just using my daughter to keep him company and stroke his ego until he could convince his wife to take him back.”

  Perry winced. “Was Kristin badly hurt?”

  “Her pride was damaged. She hated knowing she’d been so completely fooled. But mostly she was upset because she had grown so fond of Kimberly. After Jim broke up with her, Kristin never saw that little girl again.”

  Sophie sighed and shook her head. “She wouldn’t appreciate me telling you this, of course. And I won’t tell you any more. I just thought you should know what you’re up against.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her sudden bright smile reminded him forcibly of Kristin. Sophie even had that same little wrinkle across her nose—which made Perry like her even more. “I’ve had hopes for you ever since Kristin bought you at that auction,” she confided. “From what little she’s told me about you, I know she likes you...but she’s understandably worried about getting hurt again. My daughter is a strong, competent woman—but she has some insecurities. Sometimes I blame them on myself,” she admitted.

  “Er...” Perry didn’t quite know what to say. Sophie was a talker—and not a particularly discreet one, at that. He imagined she would be a hard act to follow for a daughter who tended to be a bit more on the quiet side.

  “Her father died when she was very young, and I’m not sure I was the most stabilizing influence during her youth. I love her dearly, of course, and I’ve always tried to be there for her...but there are people who have labeled me as...well, flighty.”

  Since she looked more rueful than distressed, Perry smiled. “I don’t know Kristin very well yet, but I do know she adores her mother.”

  Sophie smiled sweetly. “Yes, she does. I’m just saying that she and I are rather different, no matter how much we care for each other. I thought I’d try to explain her a little so you’ll know her better.”

  “I think that’s for me to find out for myself
, don’t you?” he asked carefully.

  She nodded, then immediately continued. “She also seems to be concerned about her writing lately. She won’t talk to me about it, but I don’t think it’s going very well.”

  “She mentioned the same thing to me.”

  “Have you read any of her books, Perry?”

  He cleared his throat. “No, I haven’t had a chance to read one yet.”

  “My daughter is a very talented writer. Her books are fresh and witty and spicy, and she has many devoted fans who find great pleasure in her stories. The books celebrate love and family and romance—and I think maybe that’s part of her problem. She’s having trouble writing about romance, because after all Jim’s lies, she’s having trouble believing in it, at least for herself.”

  Perry wondered if she was giving him advice on how to court her daughter. Romance? He’d never considered himself an expert in the art, though he’d had his share of relationships. And was Sophie advocating that he pursue an affair with her daughter—a rather unlikely possibility—or was she beginning to hear imaginary wedding bells?

  As fascinated as Perry had become with Kristin Cole, and as determined as he was to spend more time with her, he was a long way from being ready to think about that sort of commitment. He’d dated Jennifer nearly two years before he’d asked her to marry him, and look what a mistake that carefully thought-out decision had turned out to be. But maybe he was making too much of Sophie’s encouragement. Maybe she just wanted her daughter to relax and have a good time—something Perry was entirely willing to offer.

  “Do you have any more advice for me, Sophie?”

  She laughed. “No, I’m afraid you’re on your own now. I’ve just given you a little insight about Kristin that I thought would be helpful to you. And I’m trusting you to use that knowledge wisely. Hurt my baby, and I’ll make your political enemies seem like your best friends.”

  “You sound very fierce, Mrs. Cole.”

  Her smile showed teeth. “I intended to, Mr. Goodman. If you are only toying with my daughter, you can leave now and she′ll never know you were here.”

  Perry settled more comfortably into his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. “I didn’t rearrange half a dozen appointments, fly to Raleigh, rent a car and drive all the way here just to leave without even seeing her.”

  She nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t imagine you’d go to all that trouble if all you’re interested in is a mere one-night stand.”

  “What I’m interested in,” he informed her gently, “is between me and your daughter.”

  Rather than taking offense, Sophie laughed in apparent delight. “I like you very much, Perry Goodman.”

  He grinned back at her. “I like you, too, Sophie Cole.”

  “Well, then.” She rose, scooping a red leather purse off the coffee table. “I’ll be on my way now. Be good to my daughter, Perry—or maybe I should say be good for her.”

  Perry stood quickly. “Are you going?”

  “Yes. You kids don’t need Mama hanging around this evening. If I’m here, Kristin will just sit back and let me do all the talking—and trust me, I would.” She extended her right hand. “I can expect to see you again, Mr. Goodman?”

  Because it seemed appropriate with this woman, Perry lifted her hand to his lips. “Count on it, Mrs. Cole.”

  7

  KRISTIN COULD HARDLY SEE over the bags in her arms as she struggled to the front door. She probably should have made two trips, but she was still annoyed and impatient because of a delay at the supermarket. Balancing one bulky bag on her knee, she managed to get the door open.

  “Mom? Can you grab one of these bags? I’m about to—”

  Strong arms lifted all the bags from hers. “These are too heavy. You should have made more than one trip.”

  Kristin stared at the man who was gently scolding her even as he easily balanced the two heavy bags. Was she hallucinating? No. The way her pulse suddenly tripped into double-time let her know he was really standing there, close enough for her to reach out and touch him.

  She curled her fingers to keep herself from doing just that. “Perry? What are you...?”

  “Where do you want these?” he asked as if he couldn’t imagine why she’d be surprised to find him in her house. “Kitchen?”

  “Yes.” She looked around in vain for Sophie. “Where’s my mother?”

  “She said to tell you she had a sudden urge to visit your aunt Myrtle,” he said over his shoulder. “Do you really have an aunt Myrtle?”

  Kristin followed him to the kitchen, trying to understand what had happened in the short time she’d been gone. “Yes, of course, Mother’s sister. When did Mother leave?”

  “Twenty minutes ago.” He set the bags on the counter and began to dig into them. ”I’ve been waiting for you since then. I was starting to get worried. She told me you should be back any minute after she left.”

  “I got behind a cretin at the grocery store. Perry, what are you doing here? And why did Mother leave? She was going to stay for dinner. Did you say something to her?”

  “I asked her to stay. I would have enjoyed visiting with her longer. She was delightful. But she wouldn’t stay. She seemed to have the idea that you and I might want to be alone together.”

  “What did she say to you?” Knowing her mother so well, Kristin was much more concerned about that.

  Perry practically buried his head in the bag he was unpacking. “Nothing much. What are we having? Pasta?”

  “I was planning to make pasta for my mother.”

  “It would be a shame to let all this food go to waste. What can I do to help you make dinner? Remember, you told me last time I visited that you’d teach me to cook?”

  Kristin shook off her initial disorientation and frowned at him. “Why do you keep showing up without calling first? Haven’t you ever heard of the telephone?”

  He met her look blandly. “You never gave me your number.”

  “I’m listed, Goodman. You found my address, I’m sure you could have found my number if you’d tried.”

  “Maybe.” He looked at the groceries scattered on the counter around him. “What do we do first?”

  She didn’t quite know how it had happened, but it looked as though Kristin would be spending the evening giving Perry a cooking lesson. She debated silently for a moment over whether she should request that he leave—but even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she would not. He looked undeniably appealing in her kitchen, dressed in khakis and a forest green pullover, a package of pasta in one hand and a bunch of fresh spinach in the other.

  She sighed. “You can start chopping vegetables.”

  “Great,” he said cheerily. “Where do you keep your knives?”

  She blinked in response to his enthusiasm. “Er...maybe you should boil water and I’ll chop vegetables.”

  He laughed. “I can be trusted with a knife. Just get me started.”

  Kristin was determined to get through this evening politely, but without enjoying it too much. After all, she hadn’t invited Perry to her house for dinner. She’d even told him straight out that she didn’t have time to entertain him at present, with her deadline looming so close. But he’d totally ignored her hints and shown up, anyway, as if her concerns weren’t to be taken seriously. She wouldn’t be rude enough to ask him to leave—this time—but she didn’t have to have fun.

  Perry, of course, had other ideas.

  She should have expected that a man who made his living being charming and personable would be hard to resist when it gave it his full effort. She couldn’t help laughing at his jokes and being amused by his efforts to understand the recipe she handed him. He hinted at the beginning of the impromptu cooking lesson that a glass of wine would be nice. By the time they’d both had a couple of glasses, she was having a much harder time keeping her emotional distance.

  Perry slid the casserole dish into the oven and rubbed his hands together. “How long does it bake?”


  “Half an hour. The salad’s in the refrigerator, and I bought hard rolls to go with it, so there’s really nothing left to do until the timer beeps.”

  Perry set his wineglass on the counter and took a step toward her. “I’m sure we can think of something to do to fill the time.”

  She moved quickly backward. “Why don’t we take a walk outside?”

  His smile was rueful. “Yeah, sure. That’s something like what I had in mind.”

  Checking her watch so she’d be sure to gauge the cooking time correctly, Kristin opened the back door and led Perry outside. Taking a leisurely walk down to the water would be much safer than staying inside with him when he had that wicked gleam in his eyes.

  It was a very pleasant evening. The sky had turned a lovely shade of lavender and a cool breeze rustled leaves above their heads. “It’s nice out here,” Perry commented, stopping to admire a small rose garden she had planted around a concrete fountain. ”I see several bird feeders. Are you a bird-watcher?“

  “I love to sit on my deck in the mornings and watch the birds. I get a lot of different types here.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had a free morning to watch the wildlife.” He sounded a bit envious. ”Do you ever see deer from those woods?”

  “Yes, they wander into my yard quite often. In the winter I put com out for them.”

  They had reached the back boundary of her property. Kristin led him to the path through the woods that would take them down to the water’s edge. She heard Perry make a sound of appreciation when they stepped out of the trees and onto the rocky shoreline of the private, manmade lake. Several homes, some with their own docks, were visible from where they stood. They could see a couple of fishing boats out on the water, little more than toy-size dots in the distance. Like the sky, the water had taken on a purply-blue hue, with ripples of waves kicked up by the brisk breeze.

  “This is great,” Perry murmured. ”I bet you spend a lot of time here.”

  She led him to a large, flat-topped boulder in the shade of a large tree. The rock was just large enough for both of them to sit down. “I sit here a lot and watch the water lap against the shore. The fish jump and the birds skim the water looking for dinner. Sometimes the deer even come out to drink.”