Sisters of Summer’s End

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Sisters of Summer’s End Page 15

by Lori Foster


  He looked back and forth between them. “Did you spike the coffee?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then I’ll take two to go.” Propping a shoulder in the doorway, he asked, “You have any cookies this morning?”

  And Joy absolutely choked on her hilarity.

  Doing some snickering of her own, Maris brought him the coffees in foam cups, along with a plastic bag of oatmeal cookies.

  Coop took it all, but paused to smile at them. “Whatever’s up with you two, I like it.” His gaze strayed to Joy’s face. “It’s nice to see you laughing. Both of you.” He lifted one coffee in a toast. “Thanks, hon.”

  “Anytime. Give Phoenix my love.”

  “Will do.”

  After he left, they both drew some deep breaths to regain control.

  “Ah.” Maris slid into a booth and beckoned for Joy to join her. “My face hurts now from laughing.”

  “Mine, too. And I’ve ruined my makeup.”

  Grabbing a napkin, Maris leaned over the booth and carefully touched it to the corner of her right eye. “There. Good as new.”

  They looked at each other and grinned.

  “I read Cosmo,” Joy admitted. “You know, to see if I could bring myself up to speed.”

  “Yeah? How’d that work out for you?”

  Joy wrinkled her nose. “I think I’m thirty going on fifty or something, because none of it sounded right to me. Nothing that would happen naturally, and I’m not up for forcing a situation just to make it erotic.”

  Maris agreed. “I read this magazine article once that talked about all the ways to drive your boyfriend insane with lust. It pissed me off.” Wearing a frown, she said, “If I ever get around to having sex, he’s the one who’ll be working at it, not me.”

  “Last night,” Joy said, “it was mutual.”

  “Mutual work, mutual payoff?”

  “There was no work.” Joy knew she could have been happy exploring Royce’s body for an entire day. An entire week.

  Maybe longer?

  She shook her head, dismissing thoughts of the future and concentrating instead on what they’d experienced.

  It fascinated her, the things that made Royce grit his teeth. The touch that caused a groan. How his eyes blazed dark fire when he watched her come.

  “It was more than I’d ever expected.” Leaning in, Joy confessed, “We laughed a lot. Isn’t that nuts?”

  “Depends on your timing, I guess.”

  “We joked around and ate cold sandwiches in bed, and then had sex again.” Joy remembered something important, and grabbed Maris’s hand. “Did you know he lets Chaos sleep with him? Isn’t that the sweetest?”

  Mouth twitching, Maris nodded. “He’s a good guy, but now I’m glad Daron butted in and insisted on keeping the dog. Otherwise, I might not be getting this fascinating report right now.”

  Two more customers came in, and while Maris tended to them, Joy finished clearing the walkway. She really hadn’t meant to sit down on the job.

  She was just about done when the campers left.

  Maris looked at her face, at the smile Joy couldn’t suppress, and she shook her head. “So tell me this. Was he good enough to make you start thinking about more than just the horizontal mambo?”

  Joy caught a golden leaf tipped in red that rolled in on the breeze and swept it back outside with a few insistent brushes of the broom. Phoenix, the park’s groundskeeper and Coop’s wife, had her hands full with all the leaves this time of year.

  Leaning on the broom again, Joy decided to be honest. “You know, I could. It’d be so, so easy. But it’s not my decision to make. Not alone, anyway. Royce was pretty up front about things. Whatever he had going on before he moved here, he’s not looking to get tied down again.”

  “You’re not a rope, Joy. He’d be lucky to have you.”

  Having such a loyal friend was a real ego boost, but when it came down to it, a single mother of a rambunctious little boy screamed commitment, and Royce didn’t want that. “Thanks. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, though. I’d rather just enjoy the moment.”

  “I know what you mean since I’m not looking for commitment, either.” Maris put her nose in the air and said, “I’m married to this store.”

  Joy laughed at that sentiment. She couldn’t seem to stop laughing, or thinking about Royce, or wanting him. Again.

  But how would that work?

  “So did you two make any new plans?” Maris asked.

  Joy shook her head, and since she didn’t see anything else to sweep, she headed into the kitchen. “No new plans.”

  “Well, why not?” Maris followed after her.

  The kitchen was disgustingly pristine, not a single pan out of place, the sink scrubbed clean. “Yesterday, Royce wanted to take me to dinner.”

  “So?”

  “He didn’t realize that I preferred to go to his house, get him naked and have my way with him.”

  Maris grinned. “Had to explain it to him, huh?”

  “I brazenly laid out my intentions once. Shouldn’t I give him a chance to do the same? I mean, if he wants to see me again?”

  “He’ll want to see you again.”

  Joy wished she could be as confident about that as Maris seemed to be. “Until he says so, we can’t know that for sure.” Though they had joked about all the condoms and how they shouldn’t go to waste, so she was hopeful. “Now give me something to do.”

  Giving in with a toss of her hands, Maris opened a few cabinets, found cleaning supplies and led the way back to the seating area. “The napkin holders need to be polished.”

  Joy jumped on it. This, at least, was something she could do for Maris.

  They collected all the metal holders and sat at a booth together again. Maris poured her a coffee, and refilled her own.

  A few minutes into it, Joy said, “This morning I made arrangements to meet the attorney. My appointment is on the Monday after Halloween here at the park.” They celebrated separately from the night of the community, using the entire weekend for decorations and parties, and letting the kids “trick or treat” on Saturday evening.

  “So not this week, but next?”

  Joy nodded, feeling pretty damn anxious about it. “It’s going to be awful.”

  Worried, Maris set aside her cloth. “Why don’t I go with you?”

  This time, Joy’s smile was of appreciation. Under no circumstances would she subject a friend to her family’s scrutiny. She adored Maris for her casual vibe, her workaholic manner and indifference to impressions, yet those things would make Maris a prime target for Joy’s mother.

  “Thank you, really, but it’s something I should do alone.”

  Maris snorted, but kept her gaze on the polishing cloth. “I met your mother, remember? You should not face her again by yourself.” She seemed to give that another thought and added, “No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  Glancing up, Maris said, “If you won’t let me be your wingman—or wingsister or whatever—maybe you should take Royce.”

  Wingsister. Now, didn’t that sound amazing? She’d never had a sibling to share the good times and the bad. If someone had offered her a choice, she’d have happily taken Maris as her sister.

  But the suggestion of Royce around her family... Good God, no. Joy couldn’t imagine anything that’d scare Royce off quicker than being invited into her mother’s drama. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll drive straight there after I drop Jack off to school, and I should be home before he finishes for the day.” She dusted off her hands. “Done.”

  She could tell that Maris didn’t buy her nonchalance, but being a true friend, she didn’t pressure her.

  “It’s so quiet here this time of year.” Maris peered out the window. “I love the bustle of the summer, the work that keeps me j
umping.”

  Joy nodded. “Then we roll into fall and it gets so chilly.” Through the window she saw little foamy caps on the lake, stirred by a brisk breeze. The waves repeatedly lapped at the shoreline, leaving a darker line in the sand. The blue sky was easily visible through now-barren trees. All together, Joy thought it was beautiful.

  “And quiet.” Propping her chin on a fist, Maris sighed.

  “Not a fan of the quiet?” Joy guessed.

  “You have to feel it, too. The big...lulls. Too much time to think.”

  “Keeping busy is better,” Joy agreed. Another idea hit her. “Will you shop with me? I mean, for clothes and stuff. Girl shopping. We could have lunch and each buy a cute new top.”

  “That might be fun.” Gesturing at her own body, Maris asked, “But do you ever see me wearing cute?”

  No, she didn’t. “You could totally pull it off.”

  “No, you pull it off.” Maris grinned. “But hey, I could use a new coat and maybe some boots, so let’s do this.”

  “Today?” Joy asked.

  “How about tomorrow instead. But,” she said with emphasis, “if anything comes up with Royce, he gets priority, and I want your word that you won’t hesitate to let me know if you want me to watch the squirt again.”

  Joy thought of the times she’d had to take Jack out when he was sick because he needed medicine, and she had no one to watch over him. All the times she’d gone without sleep so she could get things done around Jack’s schedule, and the times she’d been running late for work because Jack had skinned his knee and needed coddling.

  She wouldn’t overly impose on Maris, but the idea that she could rely on someone else almost overwhelmed her.

  It felt good, not being alone. So damn good.

  “Hey,” Maris said. “Don’t go getting weepy on me. Jack isn’t any trouble, I’ve told you that, and it’s not like I have anything else going on.”

  Words weren’t sufficient, but for now, they were all Joy had. “Thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  “But speaking of your lack of a social life...”

  Maris groaned.

  Ignoring those theatrics, Joy asked, “How’d it go with you and Daron?”

  “Nothing goes with us.”

  “You keep doing that,” Joy accused.

  “Doing what?”

  “Putting emphasis on different words.” Usually in a way to play down the truth. Maris thought she wasn’t cute, when in fact she was extremely pretty—and yes, with her ponytail and smile, very cute. She thought there was nothing between her and Daron, when anyone with eyes could see the truth.

  They were totally into each other.

  “I only do that when it’s necessary,” Maris said with a cheeky grin, letting Joy know she’d done it again on purpose.

  “Know what?” Joy sat back and folded her arms. She’d gladly accepted advice from Maris, but it was time for her to share some of her own. “I think you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t like Daron, and it’s a lost cause because you and Daron—”

  “Joy—”

  “Set off sparks. I think you know it, and what’s more, I think you like it.”

  “Joy,” Maris said again, this time a little more urgently.

  “I think you like him. A lot.” Judging by the look on Maris’s face, Joy knew she’d hit the nail on the head. “Admit it.”

  Instead, Maris said, “Now who’s doing all the emphasizing?”

  “You want him. And you know what? I think you should give it a shot.”

  “Hell, yeah,” Daron said from right behind her, making her jump. “I second that.”

  Glancing back, Joy saw that Daron had his arms folded on the back of the booth, meaning he’d been there long enough to get comfortable.

  Feeling her face heat, Joy asked, “What is it with all the eavesdropping going on around here?”

  “Not my fault if you two get so busy talking you don’t notice anything, even the sound of the tractor pulling up out front.”

  “The tractor?” Joy asked.

  “Yeah, weather is supposed to turn nasty so Phoenix and I are putting in double time to get the leaves up first.” He turned puppy-dog eyes on Maris. “I was hoping for a few cookies to sustain me for a long morning of work.”

  Given the way Daron grinned, and how Maris glared at him, Joy decided she’d done enough for one day. She mouthed a silent, Sorry, to Maris, then said, “See if she has any chocolate—”

  “Joy!” Maris’s face went red.

  Brows up, Daron studied each of them in turn. “Chocolate...what?”

  “Maris will explain—or not,” Joy said with a wink before sidling out the door.

  From outside, she heard Daron say in a low, sexy voice, “I’m intrigued, Maris.”

  Whatever Maris replied was lost on Joy, but still she started grinning again, and by the time she reached the lodge, she was laughing. Her life had taken many twists and turns, not always for the better.

  This, though, having friends, laughing over coffee, teasing the resident stud, was definitely an improvement over isolating herself. Especially since, for the time being at least, she had a stud of her own.

  She hoped Royce would call.

  And if he didn’t? Well, she just might chase him down again.

  * * *

  Maris wasn’t sure what to say to Daron with him giving her that particular look, a look that said too many things, showed too many things—like interest and humor and...hope?

  Was it possible he really wanted her? Or, as one of the few women to turn him down, was she just a challenge? It didn’t feel that way. It felt...genuine. And scary.

  God, she was a coward. But what did she know of relationships with men? Especially a man like Daron, a guy who could have his selection of women.

  And yet, he seemed to want her.

  He watched her with complete attention, his gaze fixed on hers. “You skipped out on me last night.”

  Yup, she had—but she wouldn’t admit it. “How could I skip out on you, when I wasn’t with you in the first place?” She headed around him for the kitchen. Putting a half wall and a counter between them made sense to her self-preservation. “I have brownies, oatmeal cookies, cranberry scones or shortbread.”

  “One of each would be great.”

  Jumping, Maris turned—and there he was, right behind her, standing too close and looking far too tempting. What was it about his disheveled appearance that turned heads, including her own? He hadn’t shaved today and the light brown scruff made her fingertips twitch with the urge to feel his jaw. Brisk wind had tossed around his always-unruly hair. His sweatshirt looked older than him, fitting over his broad shoulders and then dropping loosely around his torso.

  And yet, all together, it equaled some seriously hot appeal.

  “I like when you look at me like that,” he murmured.

  A rude sound escaped before she could stop it. “You like when any woman looks at you.”

  “Well...” He rubbed the back of his neck as if the truth made him uneasy. “Yeah, sure. I mean, being noticed is nice. But no one else is you.”

  Barely resisting an eye roll, Maris made to step around him.

  He stepped, too, blocking her, and when she glared he immediately held up his hands. “I get it,” he said. “Tell me to get lost and quit trying, and I’ll respect that, I swear.” In a rush, as if he feared she might take him up on it, he added, “But there’s something between us. You know it. That kiss the other day proved it.”

  “Pfft. That kiss was an experiment,” Maris lied.

  He looked insulted, and maybe a little hurt. “The results were so bad you don’t want to try it again?”

  Damn it, now she felt guilty for giving him that impression. “That’s not what I said.”

/>   “No, you didn’t. You said to let the anticipation build, and I have. I’m about to combust with anticipation.”

  Damn it, so was she, but she had to stick to her guns.

  Didn’t she?

  Determined, Maris stared up at him. “I also said I had rules.” So many rules. It was past time she remembered them.

  Daron nodded. “Right, rules that we’d discuss—but then you dodged out instead.” He held out his arms, which raised the hem of his baggy sweatshirt, giving her a peek at his low-hanging jeans, and a downy line of hair leading from his navel into the top waistband of colorful boxers.

  Her mouth went a little dry.

  Daron Hardy was young, sexy, playful, fit...and he wanted her. Wouldn’t she be nuts to pass that up?

  With emphasis, he stated, “So here I am. More than anxious to know what I’m up against. Should I take notes? I have a good memory if we’re talking a list of one to ten, but if it’s, like, one hundred rules long or anything—”

  She smashed her fingers to his mouth, and damn it, that was the exact move that led her to kissing him last time. In contrast to his firm bod and sharp wit, his lips were soft.

  The contact sizzled, jolting through her fingertips, her arm and straight to her core. A starving core. She had it bad.

  So maybe she should just give in.

  He probably read the indecision in her eyes because he caught her wrist and carried her hand to his chest. “Come to my place. I’ll cook dinner.”

  It was an old habit, using sarcasm as a defense mechanism. First she said, “By cook, do you mean you’ll order a pizza?” and as if that weren’t bad enough, she tacked on, “Could be like a step back in time, right? I bet your apartment is decorated with band posters and black lights. Will I find another woman’s underwear beneath the bed?”

  His hold on her wrist loosened, then fell away. He even took a step back, his expression masked. “Actually, I’d thought about making fried chicken. And my house might not be up to your standards, but I left posters behind in college.”

  Her jaw loosened. “You have a house?” That absolutely was not envy squeezing her heart, but...she’d longed for a house forever. Then the rest of what he’d said hit. “I didn’t know you went to college.”

 

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