by Maria Geraci
Two more nights and his problem would be solved. Like it should have been a couple of days ago. Then he could get on with what he’d been hired to do—build a new state-of-the art recreation center. He’d always liked watching things go up. Creating something new out of nothing. When he was a kid he thought he’d become an architect, but like he’d told Allie the other night, things hadn’t turned out the way he’d planned, so he majored in Construction Management and it served him well. His career had taken off. He’d been successful at something he genuinely liked. Not many people could say that.
But his personal life? That had been another story. Married at eighteen with a pregnant wife wasn’t the way he’d envisioned college. He’d planned to live in a dorm, probably even join a frat. Instead, he’d lived in married student housing and worked construction full time while going to school. Despite having a new baby, Lauren managed to get a degree in education, something her mother had called “practical.” After graduation, they’d moved to Atlanta where Tom had signed on with a major contractor and Lauren got a job teaching first grade. After just a couple of years Tom’s income was more than enough to allow Lauren to be a stay at home mom.
They were healthy, young, and making more money than most of their peers.
But Lauren was right. They hadn’t been happy. Not the way they should have been. Something had been missing from the start. That elusive thing that not only drew two people to one another, but kept them together, as well. The fact was they’d gotten married because of Henry. End of story. Not that Tom regretted it for a minute.
All in all, he had no right to complain. He had a job. He had a son he loved more than life itself and an ex-wife he genuinely liked. Even his parents, who were getting on in years, were still doing well. His paycheck might not be anything like it used to be, but one day he’d be on top again. It would just take time and hard work. Nothing he hadn’t been through before.
The night air felt brisk. It would probably drop into the fifties again like it had last night. He went to roll up his window when he spied a shadow near the edge of the building.
God damn kids.
He opened the door to his truck and walked stealthily through the parking lot. There was a full moon but it was still dark enough that he had to squint to make out the lone figure standing by the window. He’d recognize those legs anywhere. What in all that was holy was she doing here?
Allie leaned over to catch her breath. She spotted him and placed a hand in the air. “Before you say anything I was not about to break into the building. Been there. Done that. Learned my lesson.”
“Why are you wheezing?”
“Because I just ran two miles in under fifteen minutes.” Her long brown hair was pulled in a high ponytail and her face was covered in a light sheen of perspiration. She straightened and stretched out her back, causing her sweatshirt to tighten across her breasts. Most guys would have been mesmerized by the sight. But he was a leg man, and those tiny nylon shorts of hers should have been outlawed.
“You run at night? By yourself?”
“Only when I can’t sleep. And this is Whispering Bay, not Tampa. What are you doing here?” She glanced around the parking lot. “Wait. Don’t tell me. You’re patrolling the premises. Does your boss know how dedicated you are? What’s with you and this place, anyway?”
“I’ve already told you. This place is my responsibility.”
It was true. The senior center project was his baby, but she was right. He’d gone above and beyond anything Steve Pappas expected of him. Usually, he’d just drive by a few times a night to make sure the building appeared secure. But spending the night in the parking lot? In his pick-up truck? He’d never done that before. So why tonight?
The answer made the muscles in his neck spasm.
Admit it, Donalan, you were hoping she’d show up.
He placed his palm on the back of his neck and tried to rub away some of the tension.
Allie frowned. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”
“Lack of sleep usually does that to a person.”
“You didn’t sleep last night?”
Was she serious? He’d slept six inches away from her. With a hard on that could have cut through the Hope diamond.
“I caught a few winks here and there.”
“Funny, I slept like the dead.” She pointed to the rooftop. “What do you think was up there today that made everyone think it was a ghost?”
“I thought we already went over that. There was nothing there. How did Mimi and Zeke take the news on Claire?”
She looked uncomfortable by his change of topic. “I’d rather not talk about that right now.”
He wanted to challenge her, but decided against it. Avoidance had always been Allie’s way of coping. Who was he to try to change her? Not that he’d want to. As infuriating as she could be sometimes, she was damn near perfect in almost every way. He’d forgotten that about her.
“What do you want to talk about instead?” he asked.
She began rolling a pebble with the toe of her sneaker. Back and forth. Like she was nervous. “How about you tell me what was so important that you couldn’t go to your son’s soccer practice?”
“What if I told you I was on a date? Would you be jealous?”
Her gaze collided with his. Bright and hot. “Absolutely not.”
“Liar.”
Her face fell. He watched in fascination as she tried to regroup her emotions. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I was jealous. Happy now?”
Fuck, yeah, he was happy. Happy enough that maybe he’d take a chance on telling her where he’d really gone. On the other hand, she’d probably think he was pathetic. “You want to know where I was tonight? I drove over to Panama City.”
“Is this where you tell me all about your big date? ‘Cause that might be kind of weird.” She laughed, but it sounded hollow. He didn’t want to play games with her. He wanted to tell her everything. That ever since she hit town he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. That seeing her again was like ripping open an old scab and that he was slowly bleeding to death and she was the only one who could staunch the flow.
“I had to go to Panama City to get some supplies to patch up a window for the parish hall in Dad’s church.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the entire truth, either.
*~*~*
Hold on. That made absolutely no sense. “What’s wrong with the Ace Hardware here in town?” she said.
“Absolutely nothing.” He smiled. Slow and lazy, as if he knew her better than anyone else. And in some ways, that was probably true.
Her skin felt tight, like it was ready to explode.
She didn’t love him. But she did want him. Even more than she had at eighteen. Enough with the sly flirtation and the innuendos and all the other bull. It was time to get down to the nitty gritty.
“You know what? I don’t care where you went tonight. Here’s the thing. I was thinking maybe we should have sex. Just once. To get it over with.”
His smile disappeared. Weren’t expecting that, were you, Tom Donalan?
“Because I think there’s a little bit of sexual tension going on that’s probably interfering with our partnership and—”
“Good idea.” He grabbed her hand and began pulling her toward the front door of the building. She dug in her heels but he was like a freight train, full steam ahead with no stopping him.
“Wait! I didn’t mean right now this instant.”
He let go of her hand and reached inside his jeans to produce a key that he slid inside the padlock. “What’s wrong with now?”
She glanced down at her oversized sweatshirt. This wasn’t how she wanted to look the first (and probably the only time) she and Tom made love. There was that Ben and Jerry’s fantasy, after all—the one where she looked unbelievably gorgeous and was utterly in control. Nothing could be further from that right now. “Because I’m a hot mess!”
“Is that a description? Or a promise?” Before she
could answer, he scooped her up and carried her over the proverbial threshold.
She should demand he let go of her this instant. What was he thinking? What was she thinking? Letting him manhandle her like some Neanderthal claiming his woman? Trouble was, she couldn’t think at all right now.
He set her down in the middle of the room. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Then he walked out the front door, leaving her standing there, still too stunned to speak. She thought she’d put the sex idea out there, then they’d discuss the pros and cons. Like rational adults. Not lunge at each other like a couple of love-starved teenagers.
He returned with the inflatable mattress and his backpack.
Allie could hear herself breathe. Raspy, like she was on the verge of an asthma attack. Only she didn’t suffer from any breathing problems. Nope. The only problem she had was standing in front of her. She could hear Tom breathing, too. Good to know she wasn’t the only one having trouble getting air in and out of her lungs.
Then she remembered that they weren’t supposed to be inside the building.
“What about Madame Gloria? Phoebe said the building’s aura had to remain pure, as in no trespassing and certainly no—”
“Fuck Madame Gloria. It’s here, against the side of the building, or my truck. Take your pick.”
Against the side of the building?
Maybe it was the tone of his voice. Or the way he was looking at her. What had Zeke said? Like she was breakfast and Tom was starving. So maybe this wasn’t the way she’d always envisioned this scene. But this was the way it was going to happen. It was probably best not to think too much at this point. Action. That’s what was required here.
She grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head.
God he was beautiful. A combination of smooth muscle and hard edges that nearly had her drooling. It only took them a minute to get each other naked. Flat on her back on that mattress with Tom Donalan on top of her. Like déjà vu. Only not from last night. It was like the two of them had been whirling around in some weird time machine and they’d gone back twelve years and were eighteen again. Maybe not in body, but in spirit they were a couple of horny teenagers getting down to the business of doing what they’d set out to do all those years ago.
He flicked her nipples with his thumbs. “I remember these.” Then he latched onto one breast and suckled it, slow and thorough, like he had all the time in the world. The first time he’d touched her breast was at the beach, late one night after their fourth date. She’d been shocked to discover how something so simple could feel so unbelievably good.
“They remember you, too,” she rasped.
He chuckled and changed breasts.
She rubbed the soles of her bare feet up and down the back of his calves. He must have taken that as a signal because then he began doing that thing with his hands, touching her everywhere. Sliding his palms over her hot itchy skin until she couldn’t take it anymore.
She wanted to tell him she didn’t need any more foreplay. That she was ready now. That’d she’d spent the past twelve years ready. But there was something she needed to say first.
“Remember…last night when I told you about my life plan?”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured, his mouth still on her nipple.
“About part two…sowing my wild oats. I didn’t mean it the way you probably think I did.”
He glanced up.
It was the twenty-first century. She shouldn’t care what he thought, but she couldn’t help herself. “That is, I don’t want you to think that I’ve been—”
“I know what you meant.”
“But how—”
“Allie, I know.” He shook his head. “You’re…not the kind of girl who sleeps around.”
Their eyes locked and suddenly she didn’t trust herself to speak, because who knew what kind of garble would come out of her mouth? So she grabbed his hand and placed it between her thighs where it was so wet that she should have been embarrassed, except she wasn’t.
Balancing himself with one hand, he reached into his backpack to produce a small foil packet.
Bring a condom. On second thought, bring two.
Allie swallowed hard. “So that’s where you keep the protection, huh? Pretty handy.”
Her voice sounded thin and far away, like it was somebody else speaking. She mentally shook her head. Of course she wanted him to use a condom. She willed herself to relax again. To be in the moment because whatever else might have happened between them in the past, the present was shaping up to be pretty friggin’ fantastic.
He slid inside her, hot and hard, filling her so completely that it took everything she had not to scream because it felt so good.
“Just for the record,” he said. “I bought those condoms yesterday.”
“Because…you knew this would happen?”
“Because I hoped it would happen. Prayed, even,” he said on a strained laugh. “Sorry, I don’t…I don’t think I can wait any longer.” Then he began to move.
Allie wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Yeah, just like that,” he urged. From somewhere in the deliciously foggy haze that was her brain, she realized Tom was whispering in her ear. Telling her how beautiful she was. How much he’d missed hearing her laugh. How much he wanted her. How much he’d always wanted her.
If he had to talk during sex why couldn’t he just talk dirty? Why did he have to be so darn…sweet?
She didn’t love him. And he certainly didn’t love her. But something was happening here. Besides the sex.
And it was in that moment that she realized what that something was. It was like all these years her heart had been in some kind of deep freeze. Stored away neatly in a big zip lock bag, just waiting for Tom Donalan to come along and thaw it out.
She slapped her palm against his mouth, causing his entire body to go still.
“Shut up. This isn’t… It’s just sex. And for the record, you’re wrong. I’ve had lots of sex. With lots of guys. So this doesn’t mean anything.”
The instant she said it she wanted to take it back. But she couldn’t and a part of her didn’t want to anyway. Damn him. Why did he have to make this all so personal?
The corners of her eyes dampened. She squeezed her eyelids shut. It was one thing to let him see her cry because she’d been worried about Claire. She’d forgiven him for what had happened twelve years ago, but she’d never forgive him if he made her cry now.
He didn’t move or try to remove her hand. He was waiting, she knew, for her to open her eyes again. When she finally did, he was staring down at her with a gaze as hard as the rest of him.
She eased her hand off his mouth. Now it was his turn to say something. But he didn’t say a word. Instead, he began to move again. Long, slow, delicious strokes that seemed to go on forever. And it was Allie who began to talk, like a patient in the middle of a delirious fever, spouting off whatever nonsense popped into her head.
Afterward, they both lay completely still. Tom carefully rolled off to the side and began pulling his clothes back on. It was the most awkward moment of Allie’s life. She didn’t know whether to apologize for telling him to shut up, or thank him for giving her the mother of all orgasms. Thankfully, she was too winded to say anything at the moment so she didn’t have to make a decision.
It was Tom who spoke first. “Big girls don’t cry?”
“What?” Allie finally managed to say.
“That’s what you said when you came. Big girls don’t cry. Not sure if that was a compliment. Although, by the way you were heaving around I’d say—”
“It’s a song. You know, from the sixties?”
It occurred to her that he was now fully clothed, while she on the other hand…so she started pulling her clothes on, too. “I got that old Frankie Valle song stuck in my head.” She glanced up at him. “That ever happen to you?”
“I can honestly say I’ve never had Big Girls Don’t Cry stuck in my head.”
“Okay, so maybe not that song in particular,” Allie said. “But you know? Something else. A song you just can’t seem to shake no matter what.”
An odd expression flicked across his face.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, it’s definitely something.”
“How do you know it’s something?” he challenged.
“Because I just know. So you might as well tell me because I’m not going to let it go until you do.”
He contemplated this over a few seconds. “You wanted to know why I halted the demolition that first day?”
Allie nodded.
“The truth is,” he said sheepishly, “I had that old Beatles song Help stuck inside my head. It was driving me crazy. Then I said I’d stop the demolition and the song stopped, too.”
Allie stilled. “You’re kidding.”
“You think I could make that up?”
“That’s crazy! I had an old Beatles song in my head the other day, too.” She glanced around the empty room and took a deep breath. No warm smell. No lemons. Just musty old building.
“You think your ghost is some demented Beatles fan who gets a kick out of taking over people’s heads?”
“Technically, not just a Beatles fan, since it was a Frankie Valle song I had in my head tonight.”
He offered her his hand, just like he’d done a couple of nights ago. This time she took it. He was right. Her “theory” sounded crazy, even to her. She’d been at Mimi and Zeke’s both times she’d experienced the music in her head phenomena, and according to Tom he’d heard Help during their conversation in the parking lot, which was technically part of the Senior Center, but not in the building itself.
Her face must have showed her frustration because Tom shrugged, then said, “Hey, there’s still tomorrow night’s séance.”
“Speaking of which, we can’t let Phoebe or this Madame Gloria know we um…you know, broke their rules by entering the building.”
