He propped an elbow on the open windowsill, gripped the edge of the roof and stared straight ahead while Rachel sat hugging herself. Outside the night sounds buzzed and chucked and the smell of cedar was thick. Tommy Lee took a last drag from his cigarette, then set it spiraling in a red-tailed whorl before expelling a last breath of smoke that clearly told of emotional exhaustion. Almost angrily he reached for his door handle and lurched out. She followed suit, and they met near her car, both apprehensive and wary.

"Thank you for everything, Tommy Lee."

Though it was very dark she sensed how tense he was, standing with feet apart, hands buried in his back pockets, keeping a safe distance from her.

"Will you come again, Rachel?" he asked tightly.

"I… I don't know. It probably isn't such a good idea."

He released a rush of breath and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "So you're going to put me through it all again. Is that what you're saying?"

"I never meant to put you through anything. You say it as if I'm guilty of some gross social misdemeanor, Tommy Lee!"

"I don't know about social misdemeanors, but I do know about feelings." Suddenly he captured her upper arms and brought her to her toes. "Goddammit, Rachel, I love you. I've never stopped loving you, don't you know that by now? Did you think you could sashay into my life for one afternoon, then sashay out again as if you'd done no damage?"

Her heart raced at his touch, but she was frightened by the mere fact that it did.

"I didn't know I was under any obligation when I came out here."

"Oh, didn't you?" he bit out, almost nose to nose with her. "So you thought you'd just toy around with good old Tommy Lee for a few hours, see how far you could push him. Do I count so little to you?"

"You're not being fair, Tommy Lee. That's not why I came out here and you know it."

"I don't know anything, least of all why I can't get you out from under my skin." His fingers tightened, and her heart clamored harder.

"Let me go. There's too much in our past to… to…" But she stammered to a halt and his voice turned a shade softer, silkier.

"To what, Rachel? To start it again? That thing that's been on both of our minds all day long?" Already he was drawing her close. "This…"

His open lips came down on hers with a soft, firm pressure, and immediately his tongue came seeking.

"Don't!" She twisted her head to one side and pushed on his chest.

"Why?"

"Because everything is different now. I'm different, you're different, our life-styles are totally incompatible."

His mouth followed her jaw as she arched fiercely away from him. "I can change. I will… for you, if..."

"I said, don't! It won't work and we'll end up hurting each other." She tried to twist free, but his hold was too sure and his fingers dug into her arms.

"I would be anything you wanted me to be, don't you know that, Rachel? If it meant having you back again… Rachel, please…" His hands cradled her head and drew her once again nearly onto tiptoe for a deep, thorough kiss. But as his questing tongue entered her mouth, it brought the aftertaste of gin. Angrily she pushed him away and stepped back.

"Don't you dare kiss me with your sixth drink of the night still foul on your lips!"

"Oh, so you've been counting?"

"Yes, I've been counting. All across the lake in the boat and tonight through supper and on the ride home!"

He loomed before her but made no further move to touch her while she stood with fists clenched, angry that he couldn't see what he was doing with his life.

"I can stop drinking any day I want," he stated belligerently. "Just give me a reason to!"

She ran a hand through her hair and twisted aside. "Oh, Tommy Lee, you fool. Don't you see, nobody can give you that reason but yourself? And it isn't just the drinking. It's the way you live. In that…" She flapped a palm toward the house. "That beautiful, sad, unkempt mansion where you sleep on your dirty laundry!"

His shoulders wilted slightly. "Rachel, I didn't know you were coming or..."

"It shouldn't have made a difference. For God's sake, Tommy Lee, you weren't raised in squalor. How can you live that way? And don't blame it on our parents! It's not our parents who ruined your life, it's you! You've become content to just… just drink yourself into oblivion and… and atrophy! But it's not too late to do something about it if you really want to. You could start by going in there and cleaning up that place, or if you don't want to clean it up yourself, at least hire some help to do it for you. And while you're at it, make it somebody who'll cook you something besides greasy fattening foods!"

He stiffened and pulled back while she felt heartless for striking at his most vulnerable spot. But if she didn't try to make him see the light, who would?

His voice was tight with suppressed anger as he invited caustically, "Well, don't quit now. You're on a roll."

At his words she felt a rich, roiling rage that he had so blithely profaned both the body and spirit of the Tommy Lee she had once loved and been so proud of.

"All right, you asked for it," she shouted, and pointed into the woods. "Go walk back a mile down that road and pick up the litter you threw out the car window, and stop throwing your trash in the lake." Her hand fell to her side and her fists bunched. "And stop driving by my dress shop fifteen times a day and coming in to buy red earrings for your women!" She was nearly in tears as she finished.

"Anything else?" he snapped.

Her lips were trembling and she knew in a moment she'd be crying. It was terrible, finding herself falling in love with him again while admitting a thousand reasons not to be.

"Yes! And water your plants!"

He did a silent double take. "What?" His head jutted forward and his face scrunched up.

She felt foolish for having brought up such a picayune grievance, which had nothing whatever to do with anything, and to make matters worse, the tears were beginning to flood her throat and eyes. She spun away from him and began to pace. "Oh, don't you see, Tommy Lee, we've grown so different than we used to be. All the time I'm with you I find myself wondering what people's reaction would be if they knew." She faced him and spread her palms helplessly. "All right, so I'm a snob, but I can't help it. I'm… you've changed so much… You… you're..." She pressed her lips tightly against her teeth and turned away, not wanting to hurt him any further.

"I'm what?" He stalked her, his voice coming from just behind her shoulder. "That whoring, drinking, fast-driving no-good son of a bitch our parents made me into when they forced you and me apart and made us give up our baby? Do you think that's what I want to be, Rachel?" She was suddenly whirled around, and she found him bending above her, gripping her arms again. "Do you think I don't know what the whole town calls me? That hellion, Tommy Lee Gentry." She tried to escape his hands, but he jerked her erect before him. "But you know something, Rachel? I don't give a damn about what they think or say. All I care about is you. Why do you think I didn't take you to some classy restaurant in Florence tonight? Why do you think I asked you out on my boat instead of someplace in town where we could be seen? Do you think I don't know how shocked the residents of Russellville would be if they saw the prim and proper Widow Hollis in the company of that hell-raiser Tommy Lee Gentry? But I can change, Rachel. You just watch me. Because no matter how you try to hide it, there's still something between us. I could see it in your eyes today when you didn't think I was looking. I could see you wondering if it would be as good as it used to be, and if we could make it over the hundred and one hurdles we'd have to face if we decided to go public and announce to the world that we were going to pick up where we never should have left off twenty-four years..."

"You're wrong. You..."

"Shut up, Rachel, and get it into your head that you're not done with me yet. Not by a long shot. We will pick up again, only it won't be where we left off because we've both learned a lot since then-about life and about what to do in the back seat of a car."

"Let me go, Tommy Lee! I don't want..."

"I said shut up, Rachel, because you're going to be kissed whether you like it or not, and I'll be back to get the rest later-daddies or no daddies!"

He hauled her up against him, took a handful of her hair to tip her head back, and crushed his mouth to hers while his tongue writhed against her tightly sealed lips, trying to force them open. Her heart thrust mightily against his chest as she wedged an elbow between them, gripping his shirt while the heel of one hand bored into his chest. But he was powerful in his anger, and she was as defenseless as a doll in his arms. He felt her muscles strain and quiver while she fought him, but his arms and tongue were relentless until the ferocity of his kiss gradually mellowed. And only then did she slowly, cautiously begin to relax against him, allowing herself to feel what it might be possible for them to have again. The silken circles he drew over her lips at last unlocked them, and her body rose up slightly to accommodate his, while the hand clasping his shirt rested easy, just short of caressing. Somewhere in the depths of her mind it registered again that he'd grown taller, for her head tilted sharply back. His chest was fuller beneath her palm. And he'd learned a thorough and sensual technique of kissing that soon raised responses, as his tongue explored the interior of her mouth while one hand prowled beneath her elbow to boldly caress her breast.