Best Laid Plans Page 5

He thought about flowers. Somehow Cody didn't think Abra was the type of woman to melt at the sight of a few roses. He considered a straight-out apology, the kind of no-frills shoot-from-the-hip I'm sorry one friend might offer another. But he didn't think Abra saw him as a friend, exactly. In any case, the ice she was dishing out would freeze the words before they got from his mouth to her ear. So he gave her the only thing he thought she would accept for the time being. Space.

They worked together over the next two weeks, often shoulder to shoulder. The distance between them was as great as that between the sun and the moon. Consultations were often necessary, but Abra always arranged it so that they weren't alone. With a skill he was forced to admire, she used Charlie Gray as a buffer. It couldn't have been easy, but she avoided Cody altogether whenever possible. Understanding the need for a cooling-off period, he did nothing to change the situation. Twice he made brief trips, once to the home office in Fort Lauderdale and once to work out a few bugs in a medical complex in San Diego.

Each time he returned he stuck a toe in the waters of Abra's temperament and found them still frigid.

With his hard hat in place and his eyes shielded by tinted glasses, Cody watched the glass of the dome being lowered into place.

"A nice touch. A class touch." Barlow looked up, grinning at the light that came through the glass in red-and-gold spears.

"WW." Cody relaxed a bit when the glass settled on the opening like a cap on a bottle. "Didn't know you were back in town."

"Doing some spot-checking." Barlow mopped his face with a handkerchief. "Hope they get that cooling system going."

"It's on today's schedule."

"Good. Good." Barlow turned around, wanting to take in the entire sweep of building. It pleased him. It had the look of a castle, noble and impregnable, yet at the same time was unabashedly modern. He strolled over to study the glass arch of roof that brought the mountain into the lobby. He approved of the dramatic touch here, where guests would check in and out. First and last impressions, he thought. Young Johnson was making certain they would be lasting ones. Landscapers would plant a few desert shrubs and cacti, then let nature take over. All along the west wall were wide arching windows that let in the vast arena of desert and butte. To the west, men were connecting pipe and laying the stone pool for the waterfall.

"I'll say this, boy - you deliver." It was the kind of blunt compliment Barlow gave only when it was deserved. "I'll admit I had some bad moments over the blueprints and the mock-ups, but my son saw something in all this. I went with his judgment, and I can say now he was right. You've made yourself something here, Cody. Not every man can look back on his life and say the same."

"I appreciate that."

"I'm going to want you to show me the rest." He slapped Cody on the back. "Meantime, is there a place a man can get a beer around here?"

"I think we can arrange it." Cody led the way outside to an ice chest and dug out two cans.

Barlow drank deeply and sighed. His thinning hair was covered by a straw hat with a paisley band. A porch hat, Cody's mother would have called it. It had the effect of making the millionaire look like a retired tobacco farmer.

"I'll be sixty-five my next birthday, and there's still nothing quite like a cold beer on a hot afternoon." Barlow glanced toward the health club and caught a glimpse of Abra. "Well, maybe one thing." With a quick bray of laughter he sat down on the ice chest and loosened his collar. "I like to think of myself as a student of human nature. Figure I made most of my money that way."

"Mmm-hmm," Cody responded absently. He, too, had spotted Abra. She was wearing baggy bib overalls that should have made her appear sexless. They didn't. Cody kept remembering how she'd looked in the little black dress.

"Seems to me you're a man with more on his mind than steel and glass." Barlow swigged his beer with simple appreciation. "Wouldn't have something to do with a long-legged engineer, would it?"

"Might." Cody sent him a mild look as he took out his cigarettes. He offered Barlow one, but the older man shook his head.

"Had to give them up. Damn doctors yammering at me. Took a liking to her," he continued, switching back easily to the subject of Abra. "'Course, most men take a liking to good looks, but she's got brains and grit. Might have scared me off in my younger days." He grinned and took off his hat to fan his face. "Seemed to me you two had a tiff at that do we had at Tim Thornway's."

"You could call it that." Cody sipped and considered. "I was jealous of you."

"Jealous?" Barlow had lifted the can to his lips. Now he had to set it on the ground for fear he'd drop it as he roared with laughter. Cutting loose, he rocked back and forth on the chest, mopping his streaming face with his handkerchief. "You just knocked twenty years off me, boy. I gotta thank you." He sucked in air, then let it out again in a wheeze. "Imagine a good-looking sonofabitch like you jealous of an old man." He caught his breath and leaned back, still grinning. "A rich old man. Well, well, I don't suppose the little lady took kindly to that."

"The little lady," Cody drawled, "came very close to knocking out my teeth."

"Told you she had grit." Barlow stuffed his handkerchief back in his pocket, then picked up his beer. Life still had some surprises, he thought. Thank God. "Fact is, I had her in mind for my son." At Cody's look, he chuckled and dropped the hat back on his head. "Don't get your dander up now, boy. A man can only take so much excitement in one day. 'Sides, decided against it when I saw the way she looked at you."

"That simplifies things."

"Between you and me, anyway," Barlow pointed out. "Otherwise, I'd say you were about waist-deep in quicksand."

"Pretty accurate estimate." Cody tossed his empty can in a trash barrel. "Any suggestions?"

"Better find yourself a rope, son, and haul your tail out."

"My father always used flowers," Cody mused.

"Couldn't hurt." Wincing at a few creaks in his joints, Barlow rose. "Neither would groveling." He noted Cody's expression and laughed again. "Too young for groveling yet," he said. "But you'll learn." He gave Cody a thump on the back. "Yes, indeed, you'll learn."

He wasn't about to grovel. Absolutely not. But he thought it might be time to give the flowers a shot. If a woman hadn't cooled off some in two weeks, she wasn't going to cool off at all - at least not without a little help.

In any case, Cody told himself, he owed her an apology. He laughed a little to himself as he shifted the tiger lilies to his other hand. It seemed as if they'd been bouncing apologies back and forth since the first minute they'd met. Why break the pattern? he mused as he stood in front of her door. If she didn't accept it now, he'd just stick around and drive her crazy until she did.

Each of them seemed to excel at driving the other crazy.

Besides, he'd missed her. It was as simple as that. He'd missed arguing with her about the project. He'd missed hearing her laugh the way she could when her guard was down. He'd missed the strong, uninhibited way her arms would come around him.

He glanced at the flowers in his hand. Tiger lilies were a pretty fragile rope, but they were better than none at all. Even if she tossed them in his face, it would be a change from the stiff politeness she'd dished out since the evening at Tim's. He knocked and wondered what he was going to say to get his foot in the door.

It wasn't Abra who answered, but the blonde from the photographs. She was a small, rosy-cheeked woman Cody guessed was about forty. She was dressed very simply, in a copper-colored jumpsuit that complemented her hair and her eyes, which were so much like Abra's. Cody smiled at her, as much for that as for the fact that, in her porcelain way, she was a knockout.

"Well, hello." She smiled back at him and offered a hand. "I'm Jessie Peters."

"Cody Johnson. I'm a - an associate of Abra's."

"I see." She gave him a slow, sweeping study that was laced with feminine approval. "Come in. I always love meeting Abra's...associates. Would you like a drink? Abra's in the shower."

"Sure." He remembered Abra's wine. "Something cold, if you have it."

"I've just made some lemonade. Fresh. Make yourself at home." She disappeared into the adjoining kitchen. "Was Abra expecting you?"

"No." He glanced around, noting that the apartment had had a swift but thorough tidying.

"A surprise, then. I love surprises." She walked back in with two tall glasses crackling with ice. "Are you an engineer?"

"I'm an architect."

Jessie paused for a moment. Then a smile wisped around her mouth. "The architect," she murmured, gesturing for Cody to sit. "I believe Abra's mentioned you."

"I'll bet." He set the flowers on the newly dusted table.

"She didn't mention you were so attractive." Jessie crossed her legs and settled back. "But it's like her to keep a thing like that to herself." She ran a fingertip down her glass as she summed him up. Her hand was pretty and fragile-looking, like the novelty magnet in Abra's car. There was a diamond on her finger, a small one in a rather ornate setting, but no wedding band. "You're from the east?"

"That's right. Florida."

"I never think of Florida as the east," she commented. "I always think of Disney World."

"Did I hear the door? I -  Oh." Abra came out of the adjoining bedroom. She was wearing baggy white pants and an oversize sweatshirt with a pair of battered-looking sandals. Her hair was still damp and curled from the shower.

"You have company." Jessie rose and gathered up the flowers. "Bearing gifts."

"Yes, I see." Abra dug her hands into the deep pockets of her pants.

With her bright smile still in place, Jessie buried her face in the blooms. She recognized tension and romance. As far as she was concerned, one was wasted without the other. "Why don't I put these in water for you, sweetheart? You don't happen to have a vase, do you?"

"Somewhere."

"Of course."

Abra waited until Jessie went into the kitchen to search for it. Cautious, she kept her voice low. "What do you want?"

"To see you."

Abra's hands tightened into fists in her pockets when he rose. "You've done that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm busy this evening." . "And to apologize," Cody continued.

She hesitated, then let out a long breath. She had gone to him once with an apology, and he had accepted. If there was one thing she understood, it was how difficult it was to try to mend fences temper had broken.

"It's all right," she said, and managed what she hoped was a casual smile. "Let's forget it."

"Wouldn't you like an explanation?" He took a step forward. She took one backward.

"I don't think so. It might be best if - "

"I found one." Jessie came back in holding a milk bottle, "So to speak. Actually, I think they look charming in this, don't you?" She set the flowers in the center of the coffee table, then stepped back to admire them. "Don't forget to change the water, Abra. And it wouldn't hurt to lift the vase up when you dust."

"Mom..."

"Mom? You've got to be kidding." The genuine astonishment in Cody's voice had Jessie beaming.

"That's the nicest compliment I've had all day," she said. "If I didn't love her so much, I'd deny it." Raising up on her toes, she kissed Abra's cheek, then brushed lightly at the faint smear of lipstick she left behind. "You two have a nice evening. Don't forget to call me."

"But you just got here."

"I've a million things to do." Jessie gave her daughter's hand a squeeze, then offered her own to Cody. "It was lovely meeting you."

"I hope I see you again, Mrs. Peters."

"Jessie." She smiled again. "I insist that all handsome men call me Jessie." The sweep of her lashes was the gesture of a practiced flirt. "Good night, sweetheart. Oh, you're almost out of dish detergent."

Abra let out a huff of breath when the door closed.

"Are you sure that's your mother?"

"Most of the time." Abra tunneled her fingers through her hair. Jessie always left her feeling bewildered. "Look, Cody, I appreciate you coming by to clear the air."

"Now clear out?"

"I don't want to be rude. I think both of us have used up our share of rudeness for this year, but it would simplify things if we kept our contact limited to working hours."

"I never said I wanted things simple." He took a step closer. Her eyes stayed warily on his as he toyed with the damp ends of her hair. "But if you do, fine. 1 look at you and I want. It doesn't get much simpler than that."

"For you." If it was difficult not to step away, it was much more difficult not to step forward. "I don't want to get into all of the reasons, but when I told you that I wasn't ready I was being perfectly honest. Added to that is the fact that we just don't get along very well. We don't know each other. We don't understand each other."

"All right. So we'll get to know each other."

"You're simplifying."

"Isn't that what you just said you wanted?"

Feeling trapped, she turned away and sat down. "Cody, I told you, I have reasons for not wanting to get involved with you, with anyone."

"Let's just stick with me." He sat across from her. For the life of him he couldn't understand why he was so keyed up. He had very little time or energy to put into a relationship at this point in his life. He certainly wasn't looking for one. He corrected himself. Hadn't been. This one, one he couldn't seem to resist, had crashed onto his head. "Okay, Wilson, why don't we look at this logically? Engineers are logical people, right?"

"We are." She wished the flowers weren't sitting so bright and lovely between them.

"We have to work together for a few months yet. If there's tension between people, they don't work well. If we keep walking on eggshells around each other the way we have been the last couple weeks, the project's going to suffer."

"Okay, you have a point." She smiled. "But I'm not going to go to bed with you to ease the tension."

"And I thought you were dedicated." He sat back and braced his ankle on his knee. "If that's out..." He raised a questioning brow.

"Definitely."

"How about pizza and a movie?"

She started to speak, then stopped. She was logical. She was trained to take facts to the correct conclusion. "Nothing else?"

"That would depend."

"No." Shaking her head, Abra lifted her mother's untouched lemonade. "I prefer to deal in absolutes. If we agree to get to know each other, to try to develop a professional and a personal relationship, I have to know that the personal relationship will remain on a certain level. So we set ground rules."

He lifted a brow. "Should I get out my notepad?"

"If you like," she said mildly. "But I think we can keep it simple. We can see each other, as friends, as associates. No romantic situations."

Amused, Cody watched her. "Define 'romantic situation.'"

"I think you get the picture, Johnson. You're right in the sense that we are working closely together. If either one of us is in a snit, the work suffers. A personal understanding and respect can only lead to better professional communication."

"You ought to write that down for the next staff meeting." He held up a hand before she could snap at him. "Okay, we'll give it a shot your way. Pals." He leaned over and offered his hand. When she took it, he grinned. "Guess I'll have to take back the flowers."

"Oh, no. You gave them to me before we set the rules." She rose, pleased with herself. "I'll buy the pizza. You spring for the movie."

It was going to work. Over the next few days Abra congratulated herself on taking a potentially volatile situation and making it into a pleasant arrangement. There were times, inevitably, that they rubbed each other the wrong way on the job. When they saw each other after working hours, they met as casual friends to enjoy a meal or a show. If she caught herself longing for more after she dropped Cody at his hotel or he left her at her apartment, she smothered the need.

Little by little she learned more about him, about the farm he had grown up on, about his struggle to finish his education. He didn't speak of the financial hardships or the backbreaking hours he'd had to put in, but she was able, as their time together went on, to hear what he didn't say through what he did.

It changed her view of him. She'd seen him as a pampered, privileged partner in a top architectural firm. She hadn't considered the fact that he had worked his way Up to where he was in much the same way she had. Abra admired ambition when it was married with drive and old-fashioned hard labor.

She was more careful than he about giving away pieces of her private life. She spoke easily about her years with Thornway and about her admiration for the man who had given her her chance. But she never mentioned her family or her childhood. Though he noted the shield, Cody made no attempt to pierce it. What was growing between them was still fragile. He had no intention of pushing harder until a firm foundation had been laid.

If Abra was pleased with herself and the arrangement, Cody was growing more and more frustrated. He wanted to touch her - a fingertip to her cheek, a hand to her hair. He knew that if he made even so gentle a move the tenuous thread that was spinning between them would snap. Time and again he told himself to back off completely, to call a halt to their platonic evenings. But he couldn't. Seeing her, spending time with her, had become a habit too strong to break.

Still, he was beginning to think that whoever had said half a loaf was better than none hadn't known anything about real hunger.

Hands on hips, Abra stood and watched the crew of engineers and mechanics work on the mechanism for the sliding roof. The envelope for the glass was completed, and the glass itself would be installed at the end of the week. The sun beat mercilessly down on the smoothed concrete while she worried over her design like a mother hen.

"Darling!"

"Mom?" Her concentration broken, Abra managed to smooth her frown into a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"You talk about this place so much, I thought it was time I came to see for myself." She tilted her hard hat at a jaunty angle. "I talked Mr. Blakerman into giving me just a smidgen longer for my lunch hour." She linked arms with her daughter as they stood in the stream of sunlight. "Abra, this place is fabulous. Absolutely fabulous. Of course, I don't know anything about these things, and all those little places over there look like a bunch of stick houses in heaps of dirt."

"Those are the cabanas."

"Whatever. But that big building I saw when I drove in. Incredible. It looks like a castle out of the twenty-fourth century."

"That about sums it up."

"I've never seen anything like it before. It's so alluring, so majestic. Just the way I've always thought of the desert."

Abra glanced back at her mother. "Really?"

"Oh, yes. I can tell you, when I first saw it I could hardly believe my own little girl had a part in something so, well... grand." She beamed as she inspected the empty pool, which was even now being faced with mosaic tiles. She didn't miss the tanned, muscular arms of the laborers, either. "Why, it's shaped like a half moon. How clever. Everything's curved and arched, isn't it? It makes for a relaxed tone, don't you think? Just the right effect for a resort."

"I suppose," Abra murmured, hating to admit that she was beginning to see the appeal of it herself.

"What goes up there?"

Frowning again, Abra looked up through the roof at the hard blue sky. "Glass, movable glass. It'll be tinted to filter the sunlight. When it's opened, the two panels will separate and slide into the curve of the walls."

"Wonderful. I'd love to see it when it's finished. Do you have time to show me around, or should I just wander?"

"I can't leave just now. If you can - "

"Oh, look, there's your architect." Jessie automatically smoothed her skirt. She had already zeroed in on the shorter, broader man who was walking beside Cody. "And who's that distinguished-looking man with your beau?"

"He's not my beau." Abra took a swift look around to be certain no one had heard Jessie's remark. "I don't have or want a beau."

"That's why I worry about you, sweetheart."

Patience, Abra told herself. She would be patient. "Cody Johnson is my associate."

"Whatever you say, darling. But who's that with him?"

"That's Mr. Barlow. It's his resort."

"Really?" Jessie was already aiming a smile at Cody and holding out both hands. "Hello again. I was just telling Abra how much I like your design. I'm sure this is going to be the most beautiful resort in the state."

"Thank you. William Barlow, this is Abra's mother, Jessie Peters."

"Mother?" Barlow's bushy brows rose. He'd already tried, and failed, to suck in his stomach. "I didn't know Abra was only sixteen."

Jessie gave a delighted laugh. "I hope you don't mind my popping in like this, Mr. Barlow. I've been dying to see what Abra's been working on so long and hard. Now that I have, I'm convinced it's been worth it."

"We're very pleased with Abra's work. You can be proud of her."

"I've always been proud of Abra." Her lashes swept down, then up. "But tell me, Mr. Barlow, how did you ever imagine putting a resort here, and such a beautiful one?"

"That's a long story."

"Oh." Jessie sent a rueful look at Abra. "Well, I know I'm keeping everyone from their work. I'd hoped Abra could give me a little tour, but that will have to wait."

"Perhaps you'll allow me to show you around."

"I'd love it." Jessie put a hand on Barlow's beefy arm. "But I don't want to be in the way."

"Nonsense." Barlow gave her hand a quick pat. "We'll just leave everything in capable hands and have a nice stroll."

They started off, with Jessie sending a fleeting smile over her shoulder.

"There she goes again," Abra muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing." With her hands jammed into her pockets, Abra turned away to watch her men. It disturbed her, and always had, to watch her mother in action. "We should have the wiring and supports finished by the end of the day."

"Good. Now do you want to tell me what's bugging you?"

Bad-temperedly she shrugged off the hand he put on her shoulder. "I said nothing. We had some problems with the angle."

"You've worked it out."

"At considerable time and expense."

They were going to fight. Knowing it, Cody rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Don't you get tired of singing the same song?"

"With a slight change in degrees - "

"It would have changed the look, and the feel."

"A fly stuck on the glass wouldn't have noticed the changes I wanted."

"I would have noticed."

"You were being obstinate."

"No," Cody said slowly, struggling to pace his words well behind his temper. "I was being right."

"Stubborn. The same way you were being stubborn when you insisted we had to use solid sheets of glass rather than panes."

Without a word, Cody took her arm and dragged her away.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Just shut up." With Abra dragging her heels, he pulled her down the steps into the empty pool. Laborers glanced over, tiles in hand, and grinned. Taking her face in his hands, he pushed her head back. "What do you see?"

"Sky, damn it. And if you don't let go you're going to see stars."

"That's right. Sky. That's what I want you to see. Whether the roof's open or whether it's closed. Not panes of glass, not a window, not a roof, but sky. It's my job to imagine, Wilson, and yours to make it work."

She shrugged out of his hold. The sides of the pool rose around them. If the water had been added, it would have been well over her head. For now the pool was like an arena.

"Let me tell you something, hotshot. Not everything that can be imagined can be engineered. Maybe that's not what people like you want to hear, but that's the way it is."

"You know the trouble with you, Red? You're too hung up to dream, too buttoned into your columns and calculations. Two and two always make four in your head, no matter how much better life might be if once in a while it came up five."

"Do you know how crazy that sounds?"

"Yeah. And I also know it sounds intriguing. Why don't you take a little time out to wonder why not instead of always assuming the negative?"

"I don't assume anything. I just believe in reality."

"This is reality," he said, grabbing her. "The wood, the glass, the steel, the sweat. That's reality. And damn it, so is this."

He clamped his mouth onto hers before either of them had a chance to think. Work around them stopped for ten humming seconds. Neither of them noticed. Neither of them cared. Abra discovered that, though the pool was indeed empty, she was still in over her head.

She'd wanted this. There was no denying it now, not when his lips were hot and demanding on hers. She curled her fingers into his work shirt, but not in protest. In possession. She held him close as the need spi-raled high inside her, very fast and, yes, very real.

He hadn't meant to touch her this way, to take what he had tried to convince himself she would give him in her own time. Patience had always been an integral part of his nature - the knowing when, the knowing how. But with her none of the old rules seemed to apply.

Perhaps if her response hadn't been so complete, if he hadn't tasted desire warm and waiting on her lips, he could have pulled back. But, like Abra, he was in over his head and sinking fast. For the first time in his life he wanted to sweep a woman up and away like some knight on a white charger. He wanted just as badly to drag her to the ground and have her like a primitive warrior reaping the spoils of victory. He wanted, like a poet, to light the candles and set the music. Most of all, he wanted Abra.

When he drew her away, she was dazed and speechless. He had kissed her before and sent the passion swimming. But there was something different, something deeper, something desperate, about this. For a moment she could only stand and stare at him, giddy with the knowledge that a woman could fall in love anywhere, anytime, even when she had barricaded her heart against it.

"That real enough for you?" Cody murmured.

She only shook her head as the buzzing in her brain cleared and separated into sounds. The whirl of drills, the slap of trowels, the murmur of men. The color rose into her cheeks quickly, and with it a combination of fury, embarrassment and self-reproach.

"How dare you do something like that here?"

He hooked his thumbs in his pocket when he realized he was still angry enough to do something rash and regrettable. "You got someplace else in mind?"

"Keep away from me, Johnson," she said under her breath. "Or you'll find yourself hauled up on sexual harassment charges."

His eyes remained very calm and very level. "We both know that what happened here has nothing to do with harassment, sexual or otherwise. It's personal, Red, and keeping my distance isn't going to make it go away."

"Fine," she said, going toe-to-toe with him. The argument interested the men around them almost as much as the kiss had. "If it's personal, let's keep it that way. Off the job, Johnson. I'm on Thornway time, and I don't intend to waste it arguing with you."

"Good."

"Good," she echoed, scrambling up the steps and out of the pool.

Cody rocked back on his heels as she stormed out of the building. They would both be off the clock soon enough.