I laughed, because it wasn’t what I expected him to say. “You’re going to have to watch yourself. Some uninitiated soul might think that was a joke.”
“Well, it isn’t. Every time I turn around, things look worse.” He dropped onto the stool again and folded his elbows on the counter. “Every morning I get up and have to swim harder and faster just to get through the day. Every day I think it can’t get worse and it does. Every day I think there’s nothing more that can go wrong, and I learn differently.” He studied me, apparently puzzled. “How the hell do you do it, Maralys?”
“What do you mean?”
James snorted. “You’ve been poking adversity with a stick for as long as I’ve known you, and every day you go out and do it again. You never waver in your defiance.”
“Call it a weakness.”
“No, it’s a strength and one I need to work on. Look, we both know that Neil left you in a huge pit of debt.” James glanced around. “You seem to have done all right digging your way back out of that hole, and now I’m looking at a hefty one too. Let’s just say that I could use a few tips from a professional salmon.”
So, he had spied the financial commonality too. I toyed with the wisdom of pitching my joint-authorship book idea to him, but James didn’t look as if he’d see the humor in it. “Six years it’s taken me. You’d better be ready for a long haul.”
“But you’re doing all right now?” There was concern in James’ expression, concern so unexpected that it shook me up all over again. Not that I was ready to count on anyone or anything wacko like that, but it’s not all bad to know that someone gives a crap.
See? Fix loopholes in my contracts and I’m an instant mushball. I really was getting old and vulnerable. Next I’ll be buying those chocolate covered almonds at the door to help send Bobby’s choir to Spain.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Not exactly picking up properties on the Riviera, but I’m okay. Thanks for asking.” We exchanged a glance that heated the loft up a few degrees more before I turned hastily back to my sushi. “Want some?” I offered, without intending to do so.
James looked and grimaced. He composed his expression quickly, but not quickly enough. “Thanks, but no.”
Aye, and the devil himself had hold of my tongue, lairds and lassies, and I wasn’t going to let him mosey out of this one.
“Already eaten?” I asked with perfect innocence.
James visibly squirmed. “Uh no. Thanks very much.”
Clearly, he didn’t like sushi, but probably had never tried it. I enjoyed pushing him just a bit too much to back off. “But?”
“But I’m really not hungry.”
“But you see, the first thing you’ve got to do when facing adversity is keep up your strength,” I said with a charming smile and offered the platter once more. “And seize all the free meals you can. Please, there’s plenty.”
James looked away.
“Come on. It’s good.” I waggled it right under his nose.
He recoiled. “Uh no, thanks.”
“Just one, just have one, so I know I didn’t slave over a cold tuna for nothing.”
“I don’t eat bait!” The back of his neck colored then, and James made a quick recovery. “But thanks just the same, Maralys. Oh, look at the time.”
“You, jerk.” I dropped the platter on the counter, took a piece of sushi and tossed it back. “It’s delicious. All the more for me.”
“Well, you just go ahead and enjoy it.”
I had another and made a show of savoring it. “I’ll bet you prefer a big steak with all the trimmings?”
“Well, yes.” James looked suddenly hopeful, as if I might be hiding half a cow somewhere.
“Hope you’ve got your room booked at the Cardiac Arrest Hotel. The way you work, the way you live and the way you eat, you’ll be visiting there real soon.”
He looked at me hard, daring me to continue.
Well, I’m no shrinking violet, especially when it comes to telling hard truths. “I’m not joking, James. Your life is cardiovascular hell and you’ve just trebled your stress.” I counted it off on my fingers. “You’re a desk jockey, living off fast food, stressed out to the max. You’re a health meltdown waiting to happen. The machine can only take so much.”
“I don’t eat junk. And I work out.”
“And you’re over the big four-oh. Who’s going to cook now? You three will be living off pizza and deep-fried God knows what while you sweat your income. You’re absolutely primo.”
James sighed and frowned. “Don’t I know it.” He gave me that searching look. “Tell me it gets easier.”
“Can it get worse?”
He laughed then, a good hearty laugh right from his toes.
If you can laugh at your troubles, you’re halfway home, in my opinion. James eyed the platter of sushi. “Just promise me that there’s no karaoke in this joint.”
“None.”
He sat back down. “Then you’ve got a deal. Someone told me that anything that doesn’t kill me is supposed to make me stronger.”
“Obviously a wise wise woman,” I retorted and we shared a grin.
I set the table with some dishes I’d brought back from Tokyo. James asked what everything was and even though I warned him off the wasabi mustard, he gave it a try. We both laughed when he nearly choked on the considerable chunk he had taken.
He ate reasonably well and admitted that it was better than he had expected. I hadn’t bought saki - too many bad memories of painful mornings - so we had soda water. It was a remarkably amiable if hasty meal.
“You must have been in Japan for a couple of years.” James took a neutral tone so deliberately that it couldn’t be an accident.
“Three.”
“Marcia was always disappointed that you missed our wedding.”
“Please. You’re breaking my heart here.”
James grinned. “Seriously, it was an odd time for you to go.”
“Because twins are supposed to be joined at the hip? What? Was I supposed to get married the same day, in the same dress, to a guy with the same name? Please!”
“Weren’t you right in the middle of your degree?”
“What degree? I never finished. Barely started, actually.”
“Really?”
“Really. University was not for me. One term was plenty for me. I wanted to do something.”
“So you went to Japan.”
“Um hmm. Taught English to the innocent.”
James chuckled. “What kind of English did you teach them?”
“Oh, all the legit stuff. We went over the slang and vulgarities in saki bars at night.” I smiled at him. “Extracurricular classes for extra credit.”
He smiled back at me. “Trust you to make sure they had a rounded education.” For once, I didn’t seem to have come up short of the measure - if anything, he seemed amused by what I had done.
Time to divert his curiosity. “So what did you want advice about?”
“Fixing finances.”
“Right. As if you don’t know how to manage money.”
“It’s easy to manage when there’s a lot of it. It’s the lack of it that’s throwing my game.”
Another almost-joke. But he looked so exasperated by his circumstance that I figured it was an accident and took the comment at face value. “Make a list of what’s critical, what you can’t live without, and cover it first. Lose all the rest if you have to, and keep only what’s essential to your survival.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Oh yes, with some encouragement from my pals at the IRS.”
Sympathy crossed James’ expression. “He really left you in a bind, didn’t he?”
“Well, yes, but I was dumb enough to believe him a lot of times when I shouldn’t have.”
“You were young.”
“Got over that, didn’t I?” I put down my chopsticks. “The worst thing was that it kept coming. Just when I thought I was getting it covered, anot
her debt would pop up. It was pretty discouraging.”
“You should have asked for help.”
“As if!” I was indignant.
“We could have afforded it, then.”
“Oh yes, and the check wouldn’t have come with a little lecture on what a miserable wretch of a failure I was. Oh, and Marcia could have told my dad that she had to support me because of my stupid choices yada yada yada. I think not.”
“It wouldn’t have been that bad.” Our gazes caught and held. I lifted one brow in a parody of his query and he smiled. “Maybe.”
“Thanks for the thought, but I prefer to owe no one anything. No expectations, no dependents, no chance of letting anyone down. Keeps life clean and simple.”
“That’s a tough code, Maralys.”
“It’s a learned response.” I gathered up the dishes and started to put them in the Rubbermaid bin beside the sink. “Gotta clean up now. Your forty-five minutes must be about up. Advice has been given, dinner has been consumed. Email Aunt Mary if you need more advice and let the world have a look at your troubles.” I gave him a challenging look. “That would be your cue to exit stage left.”
James folded his arms on the counter and didn’t move. His eyes were gleaming in that way that I was learning meant trouble. “Just when things get interesting? I don’t think so.” He was watching again, looking for clues. “So, how did you learn this response?”
“That is none of your damn business.”
He unfolded himself from the stool and strolled closer, his gaze locked with mine. “Isn’t it?” he whispered and I was afraid then, really afraid, that he knew.
Panic city. Fight or flight response was in serious overdrive.
“None,” I insisted, a little too breathless to be truly emphatic.
James halted, not a step away from me, and lifted one finger to my cheek. His touch was warm, gentle. It should have been non-threatening, but my heart was thumping. My mouth went dry and I wanted nothing better than to bolt. I was thinking far, the Sahara might be good. I could smell not just that cologne but the musk of his skin, I could feel the weight of his gaze as he sought my secrets.
I knew the one he wanted.
I tried to bury it. Fast.
When James kept watching me, I closed my eyes and averted my face, about the best I could do.
“Maralys, you are so full of it.” His whisper was soft yet compelling. There was unexpected affection in his tone. His fingertip slid down to my chin, urging me to face him again. There was absolutely no air in the loft, a remarkable thing. “I didn’t tell you all of the truth.”
That worked. I glanced up in surprise and couldn’t look away from his intent gaze. I couldn’t even come up with the obvious question. His thumb slipped across my bottom lip, gently tugging the flesh and making me tingle in anticipation.
“Because I came for something besides advice.”
Danger danger. Four alarm fire in the hold. I found myself leaning forward, knowing damn well what James had come for and wanting a bit of it myself. His finger moved south, down my neck and to the lace edge of my bra.
I didn’t step away - quite the contrary, I unfastened the next button on my shirt. He swallowed and caught his breath, then his hand eased inside my shirt so slowly that I could have stopped him if I wanted to. I didn’t, though I caught my breath when he cupped my breast in his palm. His thumb moved across the nipple, which was already pretty enthused about what he was doing.
We stood for an eternity like that, cloaked in the shadows of the loft, serenaded by Ella and the distant rumble of traffic, staring into each other’s eyes while his thumb moved back and forth, back and forth. Oh yeah, Ella, in Boston even beans do it. I could have sworn that I could hear James’ heartbeat, almost as loudly as I could hear my own.
It was one of the most achingly romantic moments of my life. There was yearning in the air, yearning and admiration and the unfurling of dormant desires. It was a moment of possibility and promise. It was a moment that I didn’t want to end.
Or that I only wanted to end in one way.
James bent his head slowly, giving me lots of room to escape if that was what I wanted. You know that I didn’t. I tipped my head back to meet him, closed my eyes and was sure that I was tasting heaven when he kissed me.
His other hand landed on the back of my waist, urging me closer, and I felt the heat of his erection against my stomach. He kissed me slowly, lingeringly, as if acquainting himself with my unfamiliar territory.
Then, by some kind of silent mutual consent, we started to dance. I put my hands on his shoulders and knew where I wanted this dance to end. There was nothing but James, his kiss and his teasing thumb, his tenderness and heat.
This was dangerous stuff, a dance with the devil, a kiss that compelled me to forget every principle to which I’d ever pledged allegiance. In that moment, on that night, I didn’t care.
I slipped my tongue between his teeth. He groaned and caught me closer.
And that was when the alarm went on his watch.
We parted, breathless, and discomfiture set in with record speed. James stopped the alarm and gave an apologetic shrug. “I guess timing really is everything.” He sounded breathless, his voice a bit husky.
I took a deep breath, appreciating only now how close I had come to making a Big Mistake. Another big mistake in a long list of big mistakes. I had serious experience at BigMistake.com.
“Probably for the better,” I said firmly and pivoted. I marched back to my dishes. I quickly refastened my shirt and realized that my cheeks were burning.
James was right behind me, irk coming out of his ears. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I won’t be a surrogate for my twin.” I squirted dishwashing soap over the mess with unnecessary force. “So don’t try getting your rocks off on me again.”
“Is that what you think that was about?” His outraged tone told me that he thought otherwise, but I know when I’m right.
I was right. Except that maybe I was getting my rocks off on him. Either way, it was plain old lust dressed up in fancy glad rags, lust that came with a whole heap of trouble fast on its patent heels.
“Obviously!” I turned and glared at him. “What else could it have been about?”
James smiled then, a sphinx smile that make me remember that hapless hunted mouse. He leaned closer, eyes shining, looking damn near good enough to eat. “I have a theory, Maralys, one that I’ve been wondering about for a long long time.”
That was worrisome, but I brazened it out. “Oh, great, a science lesson. Don’t you need a hypothesis before you can have a theory?”
James continued as if he hadn’t heard me, an annoying choice. “That theory is the real reason I had to see you tonight.”
“What kind of a theory?”
But James was leaving, deliberately leaving my curiosity un-sated. As well as a few other things. He walked toward the elevator, snagging his jacket en route.
“I asked you what kind of a theory?” I shouted, well and truly worried. I hate being ignored, but that wasn’t all of it.
The stupid elevator was still there, giving me no time to get answers. James pivoted in it, offering no more than a smug smile before he hit the button. “You’ll see. But, in case you’re interested, I’m pretty sure I’m right.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” I roared through the grate, but the only answer was the sound of James’s chuckle echoing in the shaft.
He wasn’t going to tell me. He was banking on my curiosity, on my following him to find out the truth. It wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t going after him. I’d done my bit, more really than anyone could have expected of me, and wasn’t getting further involved. No way, José.
I am an island, I exist devoid of ties and dependencies. I am independent woman, a rare breed but one in need of no mate, no herd, no offspring. I am Amazon. I suck men dry and chuck them back. I need no protector. I hunt alone.
I raged back to the dishes and punctuated each of my conclusions with the banging of something substantial.
I was not wading into the mire of their divorce.
I was not going to keep James warm while he got over Marcia’s leaving.
I was not going to stand substitute for my twin. Never. Non-negotiable. Uh uh.
I was not going to bolster his ego, which probably was long overdue for a reality check. Not me. I had work to do. Yes, and advice to give.
Sounded pretty thin in comparison to a wild night between the sheets and/or knowing what the hell his theory was. James knew me too well - not knowing what he meant would indeed drive me nuts.
Not for the first time, I felt the urge to murder James Coxwell, and to do it slowly. I was sure I would enjoy it. I was sure that he deserved it.
There was one small fly in the ointment here. I was not entirely innocent. I had lied to him tonight. My conscience twinged, even though it had been a perfectly permissible white lie.
I hadn’t hated college. I had loved it. But quite suddenly, I hadn’t loved Boston. I had had to get out, to shake off everything and everyone I had known. The teaching slot in Japan had been a godsend because it had offered a timely escape. I went because I was on the run, not because I wanted to travel or even that I particularly wanted to go to Japan.
The most important thing about Japan had been that Boston wasn’t in it.
That was why I had stayed an extra year. The contracts are for two years initially and only the hardy stay on. At the end of two years, I hadn’t been ready to come back. Only my mother’s final illness brought me back in the end, and even then, I dragged my feet all across the Pacific. It’s not as if there was much of a reward for me doing that, anyhow. If I had any sense, I’d still be there, speaking Japanese and living in the smallest, cleanest apartment ever known to mankind.
The reason for my hasty departure all those many moons ago? Oh, it’s simple. People are rats. You put your trust in one, you count on one, and sooner or later, he’s going to let you down. I’ve learned that lesson twice and I’m not going back for more. I depend on no one and let no one depend on me.
Double Trouble Page 10
