Yesterday's Love by Sherryl Woods

Author:Sherryl Woods
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781460392010
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 1986-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

For the next ten days Tate suffered, agonizing over the separation from Victoria and, for the first time in his life, turning introspective. He analyzed the attraction he felt for her from every possible angle, dismissing it as sheer folly one minute, only to seize on the memory of her delightful laugh and beguiling smile the next. He was behaving in such an uncharacteristically sloppy, withdrawn way that his friends began asking first subtle, and then more pointed questions. They worried about an illness, a family problem, a financial reversal. No one seemed to suspect that a woman was involved. They all knew that Tate McAndrews would never allow a woman to disrupt his life so dramatically.

And his orderly life was most definitely being disrupted. In fact, it was in an unbelievable state of chaos. While he daydreamed, work piled up on his desk until even Pete commented on the disorganized clutter. At home he left unwashed coffee cups in the sink and clothes scattered on the floor. He didn’t even seem to notice. One plant suddenly wilted and died, its bedraggled remains ignored. He opened magazines, stared uncomprehendingly at the pages and then dropped them. They stayed wherever they fell.

Only one image seemed to register fully in his mind—Victoria’s. He pictured her as he’d first seen her, dangling precariously upside down from a tree branch. It was an enchanting, unforgettable image. He recalled the half-astonished, half-temptress look in her blue eyes when he’d kissed her for the first time, and his body began behaving like a teenager’s, turning hot and ready at the mere memory of the way she’d felt in his arms. He was not used to having absolutely no control over his life, his thoughts or his body. Much more of this and he’d go stark raving bonkers, he thought desperately.

You can either forget her or do something, he told himself in the middle of Friday night as he tossed and turned restlessly amid a tangle of sheets. Since forgetting her seemed unlikely, he decided to accept the inevitable. He was going to have to kill this ridiculous obsession through overexposure. Every sensible bone in his body told him that spending more than a few hours with Victoria would drive him to distraction. He would be forced to acknowledge that she was absolutely wrong for him, and that would be the end of it. He could go back to doing his dishes and his work.

When the do-it-yourself home repair shop in his neighborhood opened Saturday morning, Tate was waiting. He selected lumber first, then hesitated about paint. Every conservative instinct in him shouted that he should buy white. He always bought white. It went with everything. Finally, he took a deep breath and pointed to what he considered to be an outrageous shade of blue…for a wall. It matched Victoria’s eyes exactly. His hand shook, but he didn’t back down. Since he wasn’t about to leave anything to chance, he also bought a ladder, paintbrushes, rollers, turpentine and a complete assortment of nails and screws.

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