Later, in the privacy of the bathroom, Brook stared in the mirror, as if studying her reflection could give her the answers she sought. Confusion threatened to pull her apart.
Crying softly, she went back and forth between guilt and desire, until she finally made a decision. There was absolutely nothing she could do about Clark at this time. She wasn’t sure what her feelings for him were anymore. But her feelings for Lance were abundantly clear and Lance was here.
For the present time, she’d live her life in the here and now. Brook dried her eyes, straightened her hair, and exited the room with a slightly lighter heart.
Chapter 44
At Brook’s request, Lance handed her a damp rag.
“I’d just like to help out around here a little more,” she explained as she approached the fireplace with its nooks and crannies to do some dusting.
“You don’t have to,” Lance said. “But you are certainly welcome to, if you want.”
She took down a small airplane sculpture and began wiping it. It was like no airplane she had ever seen. It had wooden wings, gears attached to the propeller, and smokestacks!
“I’m so intrigued by your work,” she told Lance. “These sculptures are just amazing. I can’t bring myself to believe an airplane like this could really fly!”
Lance smiled from the kitchen area where he was cleaning and oiling his tools. “No, it couldn’t,” he agreed. “It’s a fantastical thing. There was an old song called ‘Steam Powered Airplane’ that inspired me on that particular project.”
Brook wiped the light layer of dust from the nook and replaced the piece. Then she removed from another space an old-fashioned wooden case with metal pieces protruding from slots. Upon inspection, these turned out to be USB memory sticks for a computer, but they looked as if they belonged in a past century. Each one was different and unique, yet shared a similar old-fashioned look. Decorated with miniature brass pipes, tiny gears, and miniscule gauges, they had a 19th century appearance which created a sense of dissonance. Modern technology that looked antique!
“I use those when I go to the library. Problem with not having a computer here at home is I can’t really access the data. Still, I’ve stored a lot of my research on those. It saves me time.”
“Research?” Brook carefully dusted the small gadgets and replaced them in their wooden case.
“Nothing horribly academic, I’m afraid.” Lance placed the tools in a wooden tote and turned to face her. “Just things I’m interested in or information I need to make things work around here.”
Brook admired the other items. A small model of a futuristically-shaped metal house perched on a stem that reminded her for some reason of a submarine, but a very old one. A toy robot made of metal and wood with a tiny compass for a face. Brook inspected several devices of unknown purpose that were made of brass fittings and gears and appeared as if they would work, if she could only figure out their functions. There was even an odd metal steampunk goat, its joints similar to that of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. She found the entire collection delightful and handled them with care.
Lance ascended the ladder to the loft and returned with clean sheets and an extra pillow.
“I thought we’d put the daybed back under the window,” he said, watching Brook carefully. Her response would tell him if that morning’s lovemaking was just a fluke or if it signaled a new beginning for them.
“Good idea,” she said, throwing him a sultry look. “I don’t think I’ll be using it much anymore. Do you?”
“Not if I have my way.” Lance laid the items on the bed and took her in his arms. “Unless we just get so involved we can’t wait until we get into the other room. Then it might come in handy.”
Which is exactly what happened at that very moment.
That evening after supper, Lance and Brook were sitting in front of the fireplace reading. The gentle strains of Neil Young’s
“Dance with me?”
She looked up into his expressive brown eyes and placed her hand in his.
Lance placed his mouth close to Brook’s ear and sang along in a low quiet voice. He had a beautiful voice, and she felt a thrill pass through her.
He kissed her neck softly and she ran her hands over his broad muscular back. She became aware of her pulse as it accelerated.
“Brooklyn,” he murmured. “I’ve got a bit of a problem.” They swayed to the music, bodies pressed together.
“What is it?” she asked softly, burying her face in his shoulder, inhaling his clean spicy scent. Her heart swelled in her chest like a flower opening into bloom.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
His words caused a tender cascade of sensations inside her. Her breath caught in her throat. In the heat of the closeness they shared at that instant, she could have told him she felt the same. Or she could have promised him body and soul, and meant every word. Or she could have confessed that she wanted him with an intensity that defied explanation. But she said none of these things for he placed a gentle finger over her mouth, stopping her. Then, he took his finger away and replaced it with his lips.
Lance didn’t know what Brook might have said. He was afraid to know. So, he silenced her with a kiss. He only needed, at that moment, for her to know his heart. He didn’t need, just yet, to know hers.
Still kissing, they moved slowly across the floor. Outside the curtained doorway, Lance swept Brook into his arms. She held the curtain aside and they entered the bedroom.
Undressing slowly, each explored the other with tender touch and yearning gaze. Deep into the night, flesh joined to cherished flesh and they strained together in love’s most private dance.
Chapter 45
The next morning as Brook sat with Lance in his workroom, she laid her pencil on her pad and cleared her throat. He looked up from his project to find her staring at him.
“Something is really bothering me,” she said.
He waited.
“As I write, I keep remembering things. Jase and his gang mentioned my car being right where it was supposed to be.” Brook frowned. “What do you make of that?”
“I don’t know, Brooklyn. I guess it could mean a number of things. Maybe they had someone cruising around, looking for a good vehicle to take. Maybe the spotter saw your car and started following you, then called them with the location when you stopped. Or maybe someone knew you were going to that exact spot and tipped them off ahead of time.”
“Exactly,” she said, feeling as though she were venturing into fearful territory. “And as far as I know, the only person who knew where I was going…was Clark.”
Lance looked thoughtful but said nothing.
