Jennifer Greene - Wintergreen

Dear Reader,

I had such fun with this story. It has several themes I love-loyaltyforbidden lovea woman wrongly accused of something she never did.

My heroine desperately needs help-the kind of help that can only come from her ex-brother-in-law. For her son, shell do anything. Unfortunately, what the hero demands from her iseverything.

Hope you enjoy the story!

Jennifer Greene

Carefully, Lorna slipped the key into the lock, yawned hugely and tiptoed into the hall of her first-floor apartment trailing a chiffon scarf and a gold-spangled evening purse that seemed too monumentally heavy to lift at two in the morning.

I thought I told you to stay out and have a good time.

Lorna jumped, her head pivoting around toward the scolding voice. Freda Noonan had a hand on one hip and was all wide-awake, foot-tapping impatience. Lorna shook her head, suppressing a tired smile. As a daunting image, her friend lacked something. Fredas red-gray hair was in curlers, and she was wearing a robe the Goodwill would have rejected a decade ago. The suns about to come up. I thought you wouldnt mind if I came home, Lorna said dryly.

Dont tell me you were worried about Johnny.

Of course I wasnt. Lorna hesitated. But he was okay, wasnt he? This afternoon I thought he was coming down with a cold

Between your Johnny and my Brian, the house was destroyed three times over. Mostly your monsters energies. Which is the point, Freda chided. Potential father material. What was wrong this time?

Nothing, Lorna said mildly. Hal has a lot of potential wrestler in him, but except for that he seemed fairly law-abiding. Why on earth did you wait up for me?

God knows. Youre getting beyond help, Freda said disgustedly.

Lorna grinned and pushed back a dark mane of chestnut hair as she kicked off her sandals. You want wine or coffee-as in, how long is this scold going to take? Keep in mind that both boys will be up at dawn.

Wine, and for the rest of the night the boys are your problem. Why do you think I decided to babysit here tonight? And dont be sending my little angel next door any earlier than ten tomorrow morning.

Lorna chuckled, moving through the pale green living room that she knew had some claim to taste and even serenitysomewhere beneath the model airplanes and comic books. Switching on the overhead light in the kitchen, she wondered for a full second and a half if it was worth the effort to drag a chair over, to reach the wineglasses in the top cupboard. It wasnt. She poured the Pinot Noir into two Pac-Man mugs, aware that Freda had trailed after her.

Honey, he was gorgeous. And dont try to tell me he wasnt interested.

Oh, he was interested, Lorna agreed. The so-called bash at his place had a massive guest list of four, and the other couple politely left at eleven.

I thought you said

I did. I thought it was going to be a big affair.

All right. So what happened between eleven and two? Freda demanded interestedly as she picked up her mug of wine.

Nothing unusual. First we played sophisticated seduction. You know, how many times can he fill my glass while we talk. Then he shifted to poker, as in, lets see if I was really bluffing when I said no. Then we had to check out whether I was the kind who liked a man to be a little rough. Lornas voice was full of dry humor, as she automatically cleaned up the childrens glasses and took a swipe at the counter with a damp sponge.

And then Freda prompted impatiently.

Lorna took a sip of wine and perched up on the counter, her dark gray eyes rueful as she met her next-door neighbors gaze. And thennothing. I just told him that Id honestly had enough, and the chase came to an end rather abruptly. Hal turned into a lamb Lorna considered. Maybe not exactly a lamb At Fredas quelling stare, Lornas humor subsided, her smile fading.

Lorna, I thought you liked him, Freda said despairingly.

I do.

And you cant tell me you werent attracted-

Hes very good-looking, Lorna agreed.

Well, then?

Lorna sighed, her thick dark lashes suddenly shielding the vulnerable cloud-gray of her eyes. Couldnt you see the way Johnny looked at Hal when he came to pick me up? He didnt like him, Freda. And Hal just isnt kids-oriented. Lorna hesitated. Maybe further down the road, Hal might even have offered a ring, but I have a feeling the next day hed have been looking into boarding schools.

Lorna, he couldnt have spent more than an hour with the boy! You cant live your entire life through Johnny. With your looks, youve got a right to be picky, but honey, youre downright impossible. And that boy needs a father before you ruin him completely. Someone has to have the courage to land a good one on his backside occasionally.

I know that. In principle, Ill even grant that Johnny needs a masculine influence. The problem is that the men who make good fathers turn me on like dead dishrags. Say, Freda, are you going home soon? Lorna inquired politely. It wasnt as if they hadnt covered the territory before.

Obviously, I might as well.

Lorna slipped down from the counter and finished her wine, setting the mug down by the sink. You were a sweetheart to watch the two of them.

Freda moved to the back door. It balances out, you know that. Brians here more than hes home. She paused with her hand on the doorknob and turned back to Lorna. You dont still have Johnnys father on your mind? Lorna, youve got to trust again. Everyone isnt like that Whitaker clan-

Something cold and familiar settled in Lornas throat, but she shook her head with a weary smile. I havent thought of a Whitaker in nearly nine years. Dont be silly, Freda.

Youve waited a long time-

Lorna whispered firmly, Go home.

The door closed with a little click, and Lorna let out a pent-up sigh, raking her hand restlessly through her hair. After locking the back door and switching off lights, she headed toward the bedrooms, her hands unconsciously reaching behind her to unzip her dress. The first door was Johnnys, and she automatically peeked in.

Fredas son, Brian, was stretched out peacefully, the covers snugged up to his chin. Predictably, her own son was another matter. His blankets had been pulled out from the bottom of the bed and were trailing on the floor along with his arm, and only one leg was covered. Lorna silently rearranged the blankets, taking a moment to smooth the irrepressible cowlick on top of Johnnys towhead and to kiss the freckles he hated. Both worry and love showed on her expressive face as she tiptoed back out, leaving the door open an inch or two.

He was too smart, her nine-year-old son. In fact, his school had identified him as a gifted child. He was also stubborn, curious to the point of being insatiable, courageous to the point of recklessness, and at times, Lorna admitted to herself, he was more than she could handle. Last week there had been more trouble at school

The dress slipped down from her shoulders and made a silky pool on her bedroom carpet. No one was going to tattle if it stayed there until morning. The makeup, though, had to come off. Her eyes were burning from the layer of mascara applied too many hours before.

In the bathroom, she creamed the makeup off her face, brushed her teeth and then took a brush to her shoulder-length hair. Unsmiling, she viewed her image in the mirror. Almond-shaped gray eyes stared back at her, large and dark-lashed. Her classical features were surrounded by a thick mane of dark red-brown hair that crackled under the hairbrush. Her figure was long-legged and long-waisted, her high breasts barely contained in a pale green camisole. She made no particular claim to beauty, but at twenty-nine she would have been foolish not to admit she had the kind of looks that attracted men. Knowing that brought Lorna no special pleasure. Her looks had netted her one husband named Richard Whitaker once upon a time; indirectly, those same looks had been responsible for losing him. But she didnt want to think about Richard; she didnt want to think about any of the Whitaker men. The only Whitaker who concerned her was one towheaded little urchin named Johnny.