by Francis Ray
His thumb grazed her cheek, lifted the tear he found there. “Don’t cry.”
“She hurt you.” Claire cried, unable to stop the flow of tears. “Please, don’t let her keep hurting you.”
“She can’t. Not anymore.” Gray’s head slowly descended until his lips gently touched hers. “Let’s get out of here.”
Claire was still trying to assimilate the brief kiss when they went back down the stairs and out the front door. She gasped as Gray picked her up around the waist and swung her around. She saw the open smile on his face and laughed. “The neighbors will think we’re crazy,” she said, then remembered.
Setting her on her feet, he took her face in his hands. “No, they’ll think I’m finally coming to my senses. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Claire had a restless night. She dreamed of the tender kiss she and Gray had briefly shared. She dreamed of him walking away as she cried for him.
When she got up Sunday morning she was still unable to decide if he wanted friendship from her or something more personal. At times the intense way he’d look at her would cause her body to yearn even as her knees grew weak, her heart to pound. She didn’t know if she was letting herself in for heartache or if she’d even stop the ever increasing awareness of him if she could.
Seeing Lorraine and Hamilton at church, the unmistakable sadness in both their faces showed her that love wasn’t always enough to ensure a couple’s happiness. So where did that leave her and Gray? She was pondering that question when she saw the black Porsche parked in front of her house.
Her foot automatically pressed on the accelerator. Gray sat on the middle step, his elbows propped on the wide porch as he leaned back. He waved and came to his feet as she passed. She almost ran off the road into one of the many palmetto trees dotting the island. She quickly corrected and pulled into her driveway and got out. No way was she taking time to put the car in the garage as she usually did.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He was dressed casually again, in light brown walking shorts and a yellow Polo shirt. On his long, narrow feet were leather sandals. “I hope you don’t mind my waiting for you.”
“No. I’d love the company. You can join me for dinner,” she said, trying to keep her words from rushing out, glad she was able to give him a reason for staying for a while.
“I’d like that.”
“Come on in.”
Inside she went directly to the kitchen. She’d never been more thankful that she’d grown up in the habit of fixing Sunday dinner before leaving for church. “I’ll have it on the table in a minute.”
“Can it wait?”
Claire glanced around from setting the baked chicken on the rack on the counter. He looked so serious. “Yes.”
“It’s about the other day when you came to my office.” He went to her.
“You were busy,” she recalled, trying to determine where the conversation was going.
His hands settled on her waist. “I was hiding from the first woman I can’t get out of my mind.”
If he hadn’t been touching her so gently, his eyes staring into hers with such tenderness, she might have cried out in pain. “Do you want to get her out of your mind?”
“No. I may be slow, but I’m not that big of a fool,” he said. “I’m not hiding any longer.”
A sigh of relief rushed over Claire’s lips as she allowed her body to sink more heavily against his. Her arms went around his neck. “I have one better. You’re the first man in my life. Period.”
Closing his eyes, Gray leaned his forehead against Claire’s. “I figured that out. You have an honestness that sets you apart from other women. You look for the good in people. You have no built-in defenses.”
“With you I won’t need them,” she happily told him.
His arms tightened around her. “Don’t trust me too much, Claire.”
She might be naïve, but she wasn’t stupid. “I know you won’t be here forever, but having you for a little while far outweighs never having you as a part of my life. I’ll take it for as long as it lasts.”
His face lost none of its harshness. “You shouldn’t have to settle.”
She brushed her lips across his chin, and was elated to feel his body shudder. “I don’t plan to settle. Do you?”
His mouth took hers. Claire thought she would be prepared for their first real kiss. She’d dreamed, fantasized, but nothing compared to the rush of heat, of desire, that swamped her. His mouth claimed hers in the most primitive, erotic way. His tongue boldly mated with hers, causing her to shiver, to press closer, to want more, to demand more. His hand swept down her back then up again as if to reassure himself she was really in his arms.
He lifted his head a long time later. The sound of their ragged breathing filled the room. “I’ve never been one to settle.”
Claire’s eyelids fluttered upward. “That makes me very happy.”
Gray chuckled and held her closer. “I’m going to enjoy getting to know you.”
“Not as much as I am.” She kissed him again.
* * *
Claire was definitely going to be a problem, but Gray looked forward to every moment. Whether testing his control with her soft kisses or looking at him through a sweep of her dark lashes, she made him want to keep her happy and safe, then take her to the nearest bed. He’d never had such a wide range of emotions for a woman before or dated one who was so determined to be independent. Claire might not mind asking for help, but then she wanted you to stand back. That wasn’t always possible.
“I want you to take this until you have time to get one,” he said Sunday night before he was about to leave. He’d let her walk him outside in order to give it to her. “I realize how busy you are. I kept you from getting one yesterday and with getting ready for the pre- and grand opening you might not have time to do it yourself.”
She took one look at the cell phone box in his hand and her smile faded. “Gray, I thank you, but I’ll get my own phone.”
He’d eat dirt rather than embarrass her. “I know that. Livingston just upgraded and we’re donating the old ones to shelters, so there’s no reason for you not to have one,” he said, which was the truth. He didn’t think she’d accept one of the newer models.
“I’m not taking the phone.” She folded her arms. “Please, let’s drop the subject.”
He would have argued if he thought she’d change her mind. “I’ll worry about you.”
“Don’t.” She stepped forward and curved her arms around his waist. “I’m careful, and John takes good care of my car.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.”
She nibbled on his lower lip. “I’m trying to get him to come to the pre-opening Thursday night.”
Gray’s breath hitched as the tip of her tongue slid into his mouth. “Keep doing that and we’re going back inside.”
“Promise.” Her hot tongue slid inside his mouth. He grabbed her and held her close. Claire was a fast learner.
* * *
“This is the beginning. A Night of Bliss,” Lorraine said, as she stood in a circle clasping Brooke and Claire’s hands Thursday night. All three wore the signature colors of Bliss: Lorraine in a black pure silk organza, embellished rajah tunic intricately embroidered with red threads, with a silk taffeta sleeveless shell and matching pants; Claire in the black, strapless gown with a blood red rose in full bloom at the waist; while Brooke opted for a red jersey gown with black chain straps and feather trim around the hem.
“I’m so nervous. I didn’t sleep at all last night.” Claire found it difficult to stand still. The only times in the last few days that she hadn’t been worried were when Gray had been with her or kissing her. Thank goodness he visited almost every day after work.
“If only my family comes, they’ll fill up the place,” Brooke commented, but her laugh was a bit strained.
After a brief knock on the swinging doors, Gray
stuck his head inside. “Ladies, your guests have started arriving.”
Gray moved aside as the three women hurried past him. Perhaps now Claire would stop worrying. He’d put in a few calls himself to ensure the success of the night. He was determined that Claire would have her chance.
“They’ll be bankrupt within six weeks,” Hamilton muttered, a few feet away from Gray.
Those were the first words the other man had said since he’d arrived thirty minutes ago. Gray didn’t know why he was so set against his wife’s business venture. Gray had heard of Hamilton and seen him at a couple of business functions, but had never met him. “If the number of women coming through that door is any indication, I’d have to disagree with you.”
“It’s just the novelty of the shop and the risqué promotion.” Hamilton shoved his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo. “It will wear off and Lorraine will come to her senses and come home.”
Now Gray understood Hamilton’s problem. He’d made it a habit never to interfere in other people’s business, especially married people, but he liked and admired Lorraine. “I wouldn’t count on that. This is more than some little hobby to them. They’ve worked darn hard and from the jingle of the cash register, they’re succeeding. They have a right to be proud and I’m proud of them.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Claire isn’t your wife. You don’t have to fix your own meals or come home to an empty house.” Hamilton shook his head as a waiter offered canapés. “I want my life back to the way it used to be. I want my wife back.”
Gray watched Lorraine, a glow on her face, assist a matronly woman in selecting bath products. His mouth twitched when he saw they were at the BTS display.
“I’ve never seen her like this.”
Gray heard the fear, before he saw it in the other man’s face. “The way I see it, you don’t have much choice. Accept the new direction her life is taking her or try to stop her and risk losing her.”
Hamilton gave one emphatic shake of his head. “I won’t lose her and I won’t accept this.”
Gray had said all he planned to on the matter. “Excuse me. Some of my family just arrived.” He moved through the growing crowd to his grandmother and her oldest daughter. He kissed his grandmother on the cheek. She looked lovely in an opalescent blue jacket framed with sequined flowers over a sleeveless shell and skirt. No one defied his grandmother. “Thanks for coming and bringing Marcia.”
“It wasn’t difficult,” his grandmother replied with an indulgent smile. “All I had to do was let Marcia sample my lotion. For once, she was ready when the car arrived.”
“I want some of everything,” Marcia said, glancing around, looking attractive and much younger than her fifty-eight years in a gold Yves Saint Laurent gown that complimented her flawless golden brown skin and dark brown eyes.
Gray had expected as much. Marcia was a shopaholic. That’s why he’d specifically asked his grandmother to bring her. Her husband, who owned three charter boats, adored her and could afford her passion for shopping. “Let me take you to meet Claire first.”
He ignored the shared glances between mother and daughter, took their arms, and led them to Claire who was with two customers by the candles. “All of our candles are hand poured, made of soy wax so there are no animal products. The wick is cotton, not lead, and will burn for sixty hours. This scent is Winter Gardenia.”
“I just can’t decide,” the woman said, picking up another candle scented with jasmine.
“Take your time.” Claire saw Gray with his aunt and grandmother out of the corner of her eye. “If I can be of further assistance, you only have to ask.”
“Good evening, Mrs. Livingston. Mrs. Wainwright.” Claire extended her hand. “I’m so pleased you could come.”
“Hello, Claire,” Mrs. Livingston greeted her. Taking Claire’s hand the older woman continued, “Bliss is lovely. Your parents would be very proud of you.”
Pleasure went through Claire. “Thank you. Have you had a chance to look around?”
“Not yet,” Gray’s aunt said. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“I can definitely attest that the candles are hand poured,” Gray said, easily stepping beside Claire and curving his arm around her waist. “Claire almost splattered me while she was working.”
Claire smiled at the memory. “If you’d allow me, I’ll grab a basket and show you around.”
“Gray can do that, can’t you, dear?” his grandmother said with asperity.
Their gazes met, then he brushed a kiss to Claire’s forehead. “Be back in a second.”
Claire didn’t know what to do. His grandmother knew she was his protégée, and the hug could be between friends. The kiss said something entirely different. She clasped her hands in front of her.
“Don’t let Gray embarrass you, dear. The kiss was to tell me to go easy on you, and if I didn’t we’d have a discussion later neither one of us would like very much,” Mrs. Livingston said frankly.
Claire blinked.
“Entirely unnecessary. I’ve always admired you. Now,” she opened her small beaded purse in the shape of a bee and pulled out a sheet of heavy vellum paper. “I’d like to get these items for myself, and Gray’s mother wanted a few things. They’re listed below mine.”
“Don’t forget about me,” Marcia said. “Where is the Honeysuckle Soufflé moisturizing cream?”
Claire glanced at the list, then back at Gray’s grandmother. There were at least twenty products on the list and some had quantities of two or three listed next to them. She didn’t want to insinuate that Mrs. Livingston was trying to patronize her because of Gray, but she also wanted the business to succeed on its own merit. “The recommended shelf life is six months.”
“I brought a couple.” Gray rejoined the group with two of the handled sweetgrass baskets.
“I’ll take mine,” Marcia said, and promptly put two candles inside.
“Mrs. Livingston,” Claire began cautiously. “There are a lot of products on this list. Some are duplicates.”
“Will you have trouble filling it?” Mrs. Livingston asked, adding a candle to the basket Gray held.
“No,” Claire said, then decided not to beat around the bush. “I don’t want you to buy the products just to help Bliss, but because you want them.”
Mrs. Livingston held out her hand. “Please, may I have the list back?”
“Yes, ma’am.” There went a hefty sale.
Gray’s grandmother studied it for a moment then went through the list, reciting aloud the names of the people she was buying the products for. Some of the names Claire recognized as the servants who worked at the Livingston mansion. “As I thought, it is correct. You may not remember, but I like to do little things for people while they can enjoy them.”
“I don’t, but I do remember my parents thought very highly of you, of the whole Livingston family.”
“The feeling was mutual.” She handed the list to Claire. “If you could give us a bit more of your time, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’d be honored.” Claire reached for the basket Gray held. “I’ll fill the order from the back.”
“Why don’t I go with you?” Gray’s eyes twinkled.
“You’ll only distract me.” Surprising herself and him, she kissed him on the cheek, removed the basket from his lax fingers, and walked away.
“Well,” his grandmother said. “I do believe little Claire has grown up.”
* * *
Brooke’s close-knit family turned out as she’d known they would. They’d driven from Columbia and Myrtle Beach for her big night and bless their hearts, they’d brought their platinum cards. Besides her parents, her favorite uncles and the cousins from her mother’s side showed up.
Of course she’d been apprehensive about them seeing the pictures, but after she explained the marketing plan, they’d seemed to take it in stride. Especially when she told them there would be no more photos and how they had created a buzz for the store. They had alway
s been supportive of her.
“Brooke, this bill is wrong,” her mother said, peering at the receipt her daughter had just given her. Delicate, like her daughter, she looked beautiful in a seafoam jacket trimmed with sequins on the double-ruffle collar and cuffs, with a long skirt repeating the double-ruffled hem. A registered nurse, she had a mind like a calculator. Brooke had gotten her mathematical skills from her mother. “Early Christmas gift. Mama, I love you, but there’s a line of customers behind you.”
“Well, you better run my credit card back through again or I’m not moving. You have a business and two other partners to consider.” She held out her card. “When The State newspaper in Columbia does an article on the hometown girl doing well, I want to know I helped.”
Her father, cuddly and handsome in his black suit, waited patiently beside his wife. He had refused to wear a tux and it had been more important to have him there than to argue. He’d promised he’d make the ultimate sacrifice for her wedding. “Run the card, Brooke.”
She ran it because she knew they’d stand there until she did. As an only child she’d learned early when she could have her way and when she couldn’t. She handed her mother the new receipt. “I love you.”
“We love you, too.” Her mother reached for the package, but her father was already picking it up by the black-corded handle. “I told you many times before, but I want to say again we’re proud of you and we love you.”
“Same here.” She blew them a kiss. “Next.”
Taking the woman’s single bar of soap of honeysuckle-vanilla soap, Brooke rang up the sale with the same enthusiasm and friendliness as she had the other orders. She wrapped it in tissue paper, and reached for a Bliss shopping bag, then pulled a black ribbon through the top of the bag. The pre-opening had originally been by invitation only, but as word had leaked out about the event they had decided to let in anyone who wanted to come inside.
The next woman had a basket that overflowed. In her hand was a duplicate set of the candlesticks on the mantel. Lorraine’s crystal and sterling were selling well. Brooke’s mouth twitched as she placed a BTS product into the woman’s bag.
