Four Men & A Lady Page 4

  Julie laughed. "I think you're right. We, on the other hand, have progressed from fashion and relationships to fashion, relationships and the stock market."

  "Much more progressive," Heidi agreed, giving up all semblance of a straight face and glancing around the room. Video games sound effects and the flashing colors of pinball lights were the trademarks of the young and carefree.

  It was a night made for fun and laughter and she planned to relax and enjoy. "Do you and Randy work for the same brokerage house?"

  "Actually, he works for my firm's biggest competitor, damn those no-compete clauses." Julie gestured with her drink toward the man in question. Her face softened as she talked. "We tend to unwind on the same nights at the same club. When the market's up we celebrate. When it's down, well, those are the latest nights depending on how much of whose money we've lost."

  Following the direction of Julie's gaze, Heidi glanced at the men who had settled into a deeper conversation. Ben had his back to her, giving her a chance to admire and appreciate what the years had wrought...but only briefly because Quentin caught her wandering eye and winked. She glared back, resisted sticking out her tongue, then looked at Randy.

  "It's hard to think of Randy as stressed, even as intense as he was in school," she said, her gaze returning to Julie. When the other woman frowned, Heidi explained. "It's just that his intensity was so focused on fun that it didn't come across as a negative tension."

  "Trust me. He's a real type A personality. I recognize the signs all too well because I'm just like him." Julie leaned her head to the side. The ends of her dark hair brushed against the red silk and her mouth

  twisted wryly.

  It was a look and expression of body language that put Heidi's female intuition on high alert. "That must make for an interesting relationship."

  "We don't really have a relationship," Julie hurried to say. "We're just friends. He thinks of me as one of the guys."

  Heidi laughed. "Now that sounds familiar."

  "How so?"

  She nodded toward the male members of The Deck. "That's exactly how this bunch thought of me in school. Just one of the guys."

  "You're kidding, right?" Julie’s wide-eyed expression authenticated her skepticism. "You thought you were one of the guys?"

  "I didn't think so." She inclined her head. "They did. It was an all-for-one, one-for-all kinda thing."

  This time it was Julie with the discerning nod and judiciously narrowed eyes. "Then this should be quite the interesting weekend."

  "I don't understand. Oh, wait." The lightbulb blinked on and Heidi saw past her confusion. "Randy's been telling stories, hasn't he. Filling you in on our escapades so you wouldn't feel left out this weekend?"

  Finished sipping her beer, Julie shook her head. "Randy's been telling me about The Deck for years. I've never met Ben or Quentin, but I knew both of them the minute we walked up." One brow arched, Julie added, "And I certainly knew you."

  “That one was a given. I am the only female."

  "No. It wasn't just the sex thing."

  "Hmm. Then it was probably The Joker thing. You did catch me post-performance." Not exactly one of her finer moments this evening, either. "I never did think of myself as being particularly funny. Though I do remember a lot of, 'We're not laughing at you, we're laughing with you.'"

  "From what I understand, laughing was only the half of it."

  This was growing more cryptic by the moment. "Again. You've lost me. I'm sorry."

  "Don't be," Julie said and put up one hand to wave off Heidi's apology. "I'm being too vague, I know. I was just curious to see if Randy was right. That you didn't know what everyone really thought. Or how they felt about you."

  Heidi let out a sigh that was as much frustration as anything. "This isn't the first time I've heard that tonight. Quentin said something very similar."

  "After witnessing the dynamics of this group? I'm taking Randy at his word." Julie leaned a little closer, turned her back to the men. "Trust me. Not a boy in The Deck thought of you as one of the guys."

  "Ah, methinks Randy's been telling more than tales." Heidi laughed, but her curiosity had been aroused. Surely she hadn't been that blind in high school? So blind that she'd've missed what Julie's comment seemed to imply? "It's just silly to think any of them thought of me as more than The Joker."

  Julie's smile was have-it-your-way smug. "Maybe not. Still, Ben might not've reacted to that temptation you offered earlier, but Randy nearly swallowed his tongue. And Quentin's eyes weren't far from popping out of his head."

  Heidi wasn't sure which of Julie's observations was responsible for the wave that rolled through her stomach. Quentin's eyeballs, Randy's tongue or the fact that a complete stranger picked up on the subtle vibes Heidi had aimed Ben's way.

  Okay. Not so subtle. Still, Julie must be psychic. "I'm sure you're exaggerating." Or better yet, imagining things. Heidi preferred the latter. It would make for an uncomfortable weekend if she couldn't relax with the few old friends she'd come to see. The stares from the classmates she didn't remember were quite enough to deal with, thank you very much.

  Julie shook her head. "I'm not. And I'll prove it to you." She lowered her voice even further. "Now, while I'm talking to you, look over to where the three cards in question are deep in flashback."

  Heidi looked that way briefly. "I see them. Now what?"

  Julie's dark eyes took on the sheen of a woman with a mission. "Give it a full fifteen seconds, but keep your eyes on those three. I can guarantee each of them will catch you catching them unawares."

  "And what do I do when I catch them?"

  "Enjoy making them squirm, then throw them back. See, it won't be that you just catch their eyes. Trust me. It won't be your eyes they're looking at. Randy will blush. I don't know about the other two, but that's a given."

  Sure enough, Randy blushed. And true to Julie's word he wasn't caught looking into Heidi's eyes. By the time their eyes did meet, he'd taken the full look she'd solicited unsuccessfully from Ben. She delivered a glare that said, "Shame on you,' and his color deepened.

  "Am I right?" Julie asked to keep to keep the faux conversation going.

  "So far, yes. Randy looks good wearing red. But I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt. You have to understand that I look nothing like I did in high school. I was punk in a school where the word meant troublemaker, not fashion statement."

  Julie nodded, but didn't seem convinced. "Nothing from the other two?"

  "Well," Heidi began, realizing that while Quentin's dramatic gestures punctuated whatever story he was telling, his gaze was a study in male appreciation. It wasn't lewd or even suggestive. It was the look of an artist taking pleasure in the end result wrought by years of creative effort. And it was disconcerting because Heidi had never thought of herself as a work of art.

  She didn't like the idea that there was a part of herself she'd missed seeing. "Okay. I'll give you two out of three. But Ben won't bite." That she would stake her career on.

  "Trust me. Ben will do a lot more than bite. He's got that look."

  "That look?" Heidi had a hard time keeping her head from swinging around.

  "Determination. Almost like you and he might have unfinished business?"

  Dang it. Heidi could only stare, meeting the other woman's intuitively shrewd look. If Julie, a virtual stranger, was so perceptive, picking up on the connection Heidi had to Ben, what was going on in the minds of the people here who knew?

  Oh, boy. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Heidi had really missed the boat. That's what all the stares were about. People weren’t seeing a work of art or wondering who she was. They knew.

  And they were on the edges of their seats, waiting for the impending Jerry Springer confrontation between the assaulter and the assaultee.

  "Unfinished business?" Heidi laughed because it was more decorous than releasing the hysterical scream clawing at the back of her throat. "And when you're not buying and selling stocks you pract
ice psychology?"

  "I know. I'm terrible." Julie pressed a hand to her breast. "But I'm an inveterate people watcher. Besides, I know how Ben got that sexy scar across his jaw."

  Heidi groaned. "Randy's tales again."

  "Let's put it this way. When he told me about the reunion, I invited myself along as his date."

  Great. Julie probably even knew about the game of strip pool. "Well, The Deck may not provide a weekend of entertainment value, but you should have a good time. After spending four years with these guys, it'll be nice to have a female friend to hang out with."

  Julie glanced around the club. The neon bar lights caught the shine in her red silk. "I wouldn't think you'd need me for that with all the females here to choose from."

  Heidi was rather embarrassed to admit how closed off she'd kept herself from the rest of her classmates. "I stayed pretty focused in school. Which meant a lot of studies and a lot of band practice. Plus, I was a bit of an outcast. I never did have a lot of friends."

  "So, why'd you come?"

  "To the reunion?"

  Julie nodded and Heidi had to decide between complete and partial honesty. Had she come to see her few old friends? To finish what was never settled between herself and Ben?

  To revisit the place from which she'd been so determined to escape that she'd been unable to hold on long enough and prove that she had nothing to be ashamed of, no reason to run?

  Whoa! Where had that come from?

  "Hey, I think the band's finally going to play," Randy said, walking up and cutting off further conversation.

  Ben and Quentin followed, the men rejoining the women and saving Heidi from further bothersome self-examination—which was especially nice because Ben chose to stand at her shoulder and she could hardly concentrate when she felt the pinpoint pricks of prying eyes.

  Jerry Springer, here we come!

  She turned her attention to the stage where the five-member band was taking up instruments, tuning, running riffs, adjusting mike stands and the rest of the steps required of an equipment check. It was easier to feign interest in the band's doings than to think of something to say to Ben with hundreds of antennae tuned their direction.

  Not that he appeared anxious in the least to talk to her. In fact, their mutual silence seemed to suit him just fine. He seemed to be biding his time, allowing the tension to build and settle heavily around Heidi's head and shoulders.

  But the Mighty Heidi Malone wasn't about to so easily surrender her evening of fun or her peace of mind, whether to a real or an imagined intimidation. She shook off the cloak of impending doom and focused on the profile of the band's bass player instead.

  He wore worn jeans over biker boots, a white T-shirt and dark shades. His hair, a nearly brown shade of blond, was wavy and brushed back from his face.

  And just as the drummer counted out, "One, two, three, four," with the crack of drumstick on drumstick and the players burst into a cover of Bruce Springsteen's "Bom In The USA," just as the entire club burst into loud applause and louder whoops and hollers, Heidi realized the bass player was none other than the missing member of The Deck. Jack Montgomery.

  "That's Jack!" she yelled to no one in particular even though the music was too loud for anyone to hear.

  Ben heard. He leaned forward, his chin at the lobe of her ear when he shouted, "His hobby. The band plays a lot of the small local clubs."

  "They're great! What're they called?"

  "Diamond Jack," Ben answered and laughed.

  Heidi couldn't help but laugh in return. Jack was good. The band caught every nuance of the eighties hit and brought the song to life.

  And Jack sang. Heidi had no idea that Jack sang. She backed up closer to Ben and said over her shoulder, "He's good. He's really good."

  Ben nodded, leaned closer to be heard, his shoulder offering Heidi's a resting place. "He's good because he does it for fun. He says if he tried to make it a career, he'd crack."

  "He told you all this?"

  "Yeah. We've kept in touch since I moved back." After that, Ben fell silent, listening to the music and moving his body to the beat.

  Heidi found herself compelled to do the same, found her movements in sync with Ben's, her hips brushing his thigh as she swayed. This contact was comfortable, the nonthreatening sort easily shared between friends of the opposite sex.

  The accompanying tingle at the base of her spine was something else entirely. She'd ignore that, of course, because this was Ben and they had business to settle and scores of onlookers waiting.

  For now she was determined to enjoy the music. And if touching Ben in this most casual way enhanced her enjoyment, well, she'd leave that cross-examination for later.

  Diamond Jack had reached the end of the song. Jack had his hands overhead, clapping out the rhythm of the closing chorus and encouraging the crowd to do the same. He belted out the finale to roaring applause, then whipped off his sunglasses and threw them into the crowd.

  "Welcome to 1984! The year of Big Brother!"

  The party-goers shouted and cheered and clamored for more, then laughed even louder at the one loudly shouted "Boo!"

  "C'mon, sport," Jack urged. "We'll get back to the nineties soon enough. For now, we're here to remind you of what exactly you looked like back in those good ol' days of parachute pants and acid-washed jeans!"

  More cheers went up.

  "Rattails and high hair!"

  This time the response was moaning laughter.

  "How about jams and jellies?" Jack looked out at the crowd from beneath a knowing brow. "And I'm not talkin' about food here."

  Even Heidi giggled at that.

  "Now, to get you in the mood for the rest of the weekend we have Springsteen and Styx, Journey and Genesis. And since there's no better way to get reacquainted than getting up close and personal, all you dudes grab you a valley girl and dance!"

  The song began, Jack's voice making magic of a ballad as the crowd separated into couples. Ready to sit out the first of many dances, Heidi started toward the bar, only to find her way blocked by Ben.

  Chapter Three

  SHE PLACED HER PALM IN HIS.

  He wrapped his fingers over hers.

  His touch was warm and her heart kicked out a beat. He raised one brow, nodded his head and then began to move.

  His feet slipped between hers, left right, right left, his thigh pressed close. His strength was a comfort as only that of a man could be to a woman.

  She relaxed against him, but didn't give herself up the way she could so easily have done. This was Ben, with whom she had no business getting intimate, no matter how intense the old feelings and the want she couldn't seem to shake.

  Ben was the last mark she needed to wipe clean from the slate of her past. No, she hadn't been holding on to those years instead of getting on with her life. She'd moved forward with her life just fine.

  But she couldn't put away the picture of who she'd once been until she dusted away this final cobweb.

  So, why did her body pressed this close to his seem like a first step—a beginning instead of the ending, the healing, the catharsis it was supposed to be?

  "You dance well." Ben's voice was pitched low, his words delivered to her ears alone. "I don't think we've ever danced together."

  No. They'd been friends, but they'd run in different circles. And she'd have remembered feeling him, this way. She never had, and for a moment she closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the sensation of being held in strong arms.

  "Thank you. And you're right. We haven't. I don't think that we ever had an opportunity."

  "Sure we had opportunity," he said, adjusting his hand on the small of her back until it felt like it belonged. "Homecoming. Valentine's Day. Prom."

  Nothing like reality to whip off fantasy's cloak. Heidi pulled back to look into his eyes. She arched both brows in a silent waiting.

  Ben frowned. "What?"

  "Who am I, Ben?"

  The frown disappeared. Amuse
ment slid into place. "The Mighty Heidi Malone."

  She growled, determined to deal with that later. "Okay, then. Who was I?"

  He thought a minute as he moved to the music. "The Joker?"

  "The Joker didn't dance."

  "Hmm. You may be right," he said and they danced more, silently, privately, moving closer then apart as the music demanded.

  This was so nice, this being held in Ben's arms. Too nice, in fact, for a moment that could be nothing but a moment.

  The differences they had in the past weren't as apparent today, but they were still differences. Yes, Ben was the reason she was here. But she'd come to make amends, not for...this.

  She hadn't expected him to feel so good standing so close. She hadn't expected him to hold her, and to hold her so well. She'd thought she'd find a grownup version of the boy she'd known.

  But a boy didn't move this smoothly or hold a woman with this much confidence. A boy didn't anticipate a woman's moves, meet her needs, lead her exactly where she wanted to go.

  The band switched to another ballad and when Ben silently asked for the next dance as well, Heidi answered his unspoken invitation with a nod.

  "What brought you back to Sherwood Grove?" she asked, determined that this dance would be spent in conversation, not in reckless musings and physical appreciations leading nowhere.

  Ben's chin nuzzled her ear then pulled back and spoke. "Stonebridge, actually. Not Sherwood Grove."

  "Stonebridge. That's on the other side of Austin, right?" He nodded and she went on, rambling a bit because his mouth was so close and his lips, when he spoke, drew her attention, made her wonder—

  Dang it. She was drifting again. "I think we drove through there once on the way to a band competition. If I remember, there was only one stoplight and a population sign bragging on the town's, what? Two thousand residents?"

  "I think it was more than that. And it's up to about ten thousand now. Lots of folks scaling down, looking for a simpler life."

  "Is that what you did?" It was hard to believe that of him. Of any Tannen.

  He nodded again, shifted his hold on her hand. The music grew soft, Ben's touch that much softer, though his voice still carried a bit of an edge. "Pretty much. Took a while to get there."