Darling's Desire

by T. D. Hassett

  Girls’ night out at a bar and a trip to a town carnival sounded innocent enough until his thoughts began churning in a different direction. Darling dressed with the assistance of her friend, who seemed to think tight and short was the latest in couture clothing surrounded by cheap beer tents, local carnies, and who knew what the hell else this Peyton Place of a town had going for it. How would his Darling handle a bunch of horny drunk locals? And when did he start thinking of her as “his Darling”?

  Before he could think better of it, he blurted out, “Hell yeah, I’m down with going out. What time?” Darling’s face froze; her lips stretched into a tight thin line. “Oh, that might not be a great idea. What if someone recognizes him and—”

  He cut her off. “It happens sometimes but don’t worry. If nobody says my name or the band’s name, then I doubt anyone will bother me.” He winked at her, almost enjoying the way she was worrying her bottom lip trying to come up with another reason he shouldn’t go.

  “But it’s just a local carnival—I’m sure you’d find it dull,” she offered.

  “Nope, I’m thinking it will be good to get out.”

  She was obviously thrilled about spending another evening in his presence. Well, at least she wasn’t blushing furiously at him or stammering out one-word answers. Maybe mad was better than embarrassed.

  With the new plans in place, Ross had work to do. First thing first was he needed a vehicle. Now that he was stuck in Uniontown playing the role of chivalrous knight to a near-virgin being stalked by some local hoodlums, he needed some basics. With a few phone calls he found exactly what he wanted, a sturdy Land Cruiser that no one would want to mess with. It wasn’t a cheap rental but worth every penny to have his own wheels again. Besides, Madison’s Mercedes would be in the shop for the rest of the week. Maybe he should just buy her a new—He stopped that thought since it sounded a bit too controlling. You couldn’t just gift people with cars and such, not unless you were Oprah running a contest. Next he ordered a drum set and was pleased to find out that the shop would deliver it the same day—once they put him on hold and ran his credit card. It wasn’t his DW Mahogany Performance Series drum set, but it’d do.

  Now he had to handle Darling. Her disinclination to relax and enjoy some pampering bugged him. He wasn’t sure how much of it was related to the money. He knew she’d worked as a teacher last year, which meant she did far better financially than the kind of money he was used to from his barely scraping by days back in Texas, but still she wasn’t the spoiled uptown girl he’d thought. He had plenty of money, and after being poor for so long, he loved to spend it. A quick call to the spa set everything in motion. Darling would get every service the house had to offer and so would her friend. He was very clear with the receptionist that the girls would be told they were the lucky five thousandth appointment or something since the shop’s opening. It was a done deal after a generous one hundred-dollar tip was added onto the bill for each of the spa’s technicians.

  Figuring out how to get Darling to pick up some new threads at a shopping mall was a slightly bigger challenge. Fortunately there was only one mall in the area, and the number of department stores contained therein was downright puny. He spoke to a few of the managers in the women’s clothing stores and laid out his plan. Let Darling and her friend buy a few frocks that they liked but put aside anything she looked at and put back over price. He’d come by and purchase them himself later that day. If the store staff thought he was a little bit crazy, they were kind enough not to let on. Hell, the tip he was offering was worth their aggravation. Following around two young women for an afternoon shopping expedition during a recession wasn’t a bad way to earn some extra stack. He would worry about his motives for all this later, like when he was sitting by himself in some European hotel or on the train commuting to another show.

  Chapter 18

  Carrie had driven them to the spa today since Darling’s loaner car was at a Mercedes dealer being restored thanks to Ross. She hadn’t initially wanted to do a whole day of beauty—had actually planned to just meet up with Carrie and have lunch or something—but she was glad she went. They grabbed sandwiches at a shop before their appointment and were lucky to be chosen for a special contest the spa was having. All of their services would be free. Darling had only booked a facial appointment but wound up having a body scrub, manicure, facial, hair foils, waxing, and finally a pedicure. She had never been so pampered. The salon owner did her hair, and the color was incredible; her blonde hair was no longer so brassy but had multiple shades of color streaked through.

  The pedicure was pure heaven. Why, oh, why didn’t she do this more often? Oh, wait—money and time. Darling wiggled her toes in the bubbling warm water and sank deeper into the massage chair. Carrie was looking just as enthralled with the whole experience.

  “So, what’s going on with you and Ross?” her friend asked.

  Even though she’d been expecting the question, she was hesitant to answer. She had managed to avoid Madison’s inquisition over the phone the other day but only because Maddie was too far away to wear her down.

  “Nothing really. He’s a friend of a friend who needed a place to stay until he can get a new visa issued for travel. I have plenty of room, and he helps take care of Beauty Belle.”

  “Yeah, he helps with the dog. I am so hoping for your sake that he is helping with a whole lot more. Like curling your toes on a regular basis.” Carrie smiled mischievously.

  “You remind me of my friend Madison; she also has a one-track mind,” she whispered, uncomfortable talking about such things with the spa staff listening. “No, nothing is going on; he’s leaving to join the tour any day now. Besides, he just lost his wife nine months back. It’s probably too soon for anything serious, you know?” Darling studied her drying nail polish, trying to think of a new topic besides Ross. The problem was he was all she could think of. And now he knew she was a sexual train wreck. The way he jumped away from her when she said she sucked at sex—she might as well have said something like she had a terrible herpes outbreak. He wanted nothing to do with completing the deed with her. Maybe he felt too guilty to be with another woman after his recent loss?

  “All I’ll say is that if I had a hottie like that under my roof, I’d be sure to jump him every chance I got—who cares if he’s leaving or a little depressed—he’s a guy, he’s famous, he’s rich, and he’s available—and did I mention hot?”

  “Several times. I’m just not the put-myself-out-there type. Not the way my dad raised me.”

  “From the way you’ve described your dad raising you, I’m surprised you didn’t become a nun. Why did he ship you off to a parochial school anyway?”

  “For a while he maintained that I would be better off with a lot of women role models since my mom wasn’t around. Later I realized that he just didn’t like to be around me.” Darling stared down into the swirling water.

  “Who could not want to be around you? That’s ridiculous.” Carrie reached down into her footbath and flicked some water toward her.

  “It’s true, though. One night when I was in my early teens, he let me come home for the whole Christmas break. Usually he wanted me to go stay with friends or stay on campus and do enrichment classes. He had a little too much to drink and told me it hurt having me around because I looked so much like her—I guess I made him miss her even more. After that week, all the visits could be measured in hours. My dad just likes to pretend I am a little girl still tucked away in a Catholic boarding school. He’ll probably flip when he finds out I’m staying at gran’s house and not just letting my aunt put it right on the market.”

  “He did know you went to college in New York City, right?”

  “Yes, but Madison sort of helped me convince him we were very serious students attending campus mass every Saturday evening and reading to the blind. She was good at that sort of stuff. In all truth, though, I never went to all that many parties and was pretty mellow all through college. Maddie was the hell
ion that I often had to worry about, and even she wasn’t too crazy. My dad just hates being around me and doesn’t want to acknowledge that I’m a grown woman.”

  “I never really knew what happened to you, how bad it must have been. You really kind of lost both your parents in a way.” Carrie reached over and squeezed her hand.

  The spa technicians came by to start the buffing and polishing of their toes, putting an end to serious conversation. Darling was glad; she didn’t want to dwell on her past. Besides, she was her own woman now, and she needed to start acting that way.

  The mall wasn’t quite as wonderful as the spa, but she splurged a little bit. She was normally very cautious with her money, but with the weight loss, she did need to pick up a few new things. What used to be oversized outfits intended to hide a few pounds on her were now looking more like pop tents with her height acting as the pole. She could thank Zack for that one thing—his dumping her had dampened her appetite and got her to make some fitness lifestyle changes—at least after that first week of binging on pizza and ice cream had passed.

  Carrie talked her into a few short sundresses that she swore showed off her best assets, her boobs and legs. She also picked up some skinny-cut jeans and low-heeled sandals. They both looked at some pricey dream outfits. Carrie practically threw her in a dressing room to try on some designer picks, but that was just in fun—the prices were so far out of her league, they might as well have had a couple more zeroes at the end. Even showing some serious restraint, she wound up hauling home several shopping bags and feared the arrival of her credit card bill next month.

  They were just hauling their bags to Carrie’s car when her friend stopped in the parking lot, reading a text. “We have to get to your house. Matt texted that there was a shed fire there.”

  “W-what happened? Was anyone hurt?” Darling stammered the words out, pulled from her earlier good mood.

  “He said just the shed was damaged, fire’s out, and he met Ross and Beauty, so no one’s hurt.” Carrie summarized the text and flipped her phone shut, patting Darling’s knee. “Let’s get over there and check it out. Hopefully it’s not too bad.”

  Chapter 19

  Ross had spent his afternoon playing with Beauty Belle and making phone calls. He talked to Canterbury records about his visa situation and got nowhere; none of the staff there seemed to know anything. Finally he was able to contact the tour manager, Shannon, who very efficiently told him they were working on it and to relax. She assured him that she’d been in contact with Link and that he’d be on the tour before the shows started. Then he put a call in to two of his three brothers. Everyone back home was doing pretty well. He’d basically handed over the big house he bought for Lisa to her parents, not that they bothered to thank him since they were convinced it was somehow his fault that she’d drowned. As far as her folks were concerned, he should’ve known she was in trouble and stuck closer to home. Part of that was probably true. He never wanted to tell her family or anyone else that he just didn’t love her, never mind that he felt he didn’t even know her. He hadn’t bothered to go back to Texas since the funeral. He didn’t need to spend hours banging on his new drum set to work out that mystery. Although he could probably spend the next ten years slamming out beats and still not figure out the deal with him and Darling.

  He was popping yet another one of those delicious raspberry scones she’d baked up that morning into his mouth when Beauty Belle let out the most god-awful howl he’d ever heard from an animal. He hustled out the back door onto the deck and immediately saw what had gotten the dog all riled up. She was barking her head off at the beach shed. Flames were pouring out the side windows of the shack, and black smoke was rising. Ross dropped the scone onto the deck and reached for his cellphone. The line rang six times before the 911 operator finally answered. “There’s a shed fire here and it looks bad. I’m at Secret Lake—Forty Lakeview Drive. Come quick.”

  Ross ran down the steps and turned on the hose, but the fire was too advanced for a garden hose to really control the flames. Beauty Belle kept up her howling and barking, only to be drowned out by the sound of the fire engines racing to the house. Within minutes seven firemen had pulled up to the beach shed and dragged out high-powered hoses. It might be a small town, but those boys sure knew how to respond quickly and take care of business. One of the guys came up to ask Ross a few questions about when he first noticed the fire and what he’d been doing. It all seemed routine, and the guy was pleasant enough, but the implication was clear, the fireman didn’t think it was an accidental fire.

  “So you weren’t out smoking or doing anything in the shed it all?” the fireman with the name badge Whitaker asked him.

  “No, I don’t smoke. I was inside eating when the dog started barking her head off, so I came out here, looked, and called up you guys. I’m amazed you got here so fast since I wasn’t sure ’bout the house number.”

  “Well, my old man and my brother share this driveway, and based on the description, it was pretty easy to guess which property you were talking about,” Whitaker explained.

  “Oh, you must be related to David, then. I met that kid on Friday.” Ross motioned to the top to the gravel drive.

  “Yep, he’s my kid brother. And if you’re staying here with Darling, I’m guessing you probably met my girlfriend Carrie since those two are out together for the day.”

  Ross nodded his head. “She came by about lunchtime. Dragged Darling off right quick for a whole day of female nonsense.”

  Matt Whitaker gave a little chuckle and shook his head. “I know. Carrie just gets some idea in her head, and she just goes. But it’ll be good for them. A bunch of the guys from the department are planning on meeting up with her and Darling Thursday at the Melody. It’ll be nice since there aren’t too many new faces in this town.”

  Ross flexed his hands and glanced over at the group of guys putting equipment away around the truck. Suddenly these rescuers and local heroes morphed into potential predators, all probably intent on seducing his Darling. There was no question in his mind now that he would be attending tomorrow evening’s entertainment whether she wanted him there or not.

  Chapter 20

  Twenty minutes later Darling was looking at the burned-out remains of her shed and shaking her head. It was basically destroyed, along with the sailboat and beach equipment that was stored in there.

  Ross gave her the rundown from his dealings with the fire department.

  “Did they have any idea what happened? Like old wiring or something?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Matt just said that someone would come by soon to fill out the report.” He pulled her into his arms. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. Maybe I could have sprayed it down before it got so out of control.”

  “It’s not your fault. It was just an old shed. As long as no one was hurt, I’m sure things will be fine.” She glanced at the giant vehicle in her driveway. “By the way, what’s with the huge SUV over there?”

  Ross let a slow smile spread across his face. “That’s my new baby. I ordered that bitch today, and she is badass. Not sexy like my Viper but fun to tool around in. Oh, and wait until you see the drum set that got delivered.” He moved to lead her into the house.

  “I can’t believe you bought all that. Didn’t you just mention that you would be heading out any day now?” Darling shook her head again.

  “I grew up poor; now I get to have toys. Life’s too short to not enjoy what you’ve got. Besides, the car’s a rental.” He pulled away from her, his expression turning dark.

  Hmm. Maybe losing his wife made him want to embrace every day, just in case. She wanted to ask questions, but his crossed arms signaled he was closed to conversation. Before she could try to decide what to say next, the fire marshal pulled up in an old sedan and parked next to Ross’ luxury SUV.

  He went straight over to the burned-out shed, poked around for a few minutes, and pronounced the fire an act of arson. The old marshal p
ractically accused Ross of throwing torch fuel on the inside of her shed and setting the place ablaze. As far as Marshal Davis was concerned, Darling’s houseguest was a dangerous, drug-addicted slacker who needed to cut his hair and find a real job. She had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Yes, Ross should quit being a world-famous drummer and take a job at the local feed and liquor store.

  She suspected this fire might be a slightly more devious tactic performed by the local teens to irritate her. Just a few steps into the woods near the beach she found a stone circle fire pit with plenty of smashed beer bottles and cigarette butts. The sheriff had been right. Obviously some kids didn’t want her infiltrating their party place.

  To his credit, Ross put up with the narrow-minded official and just smiled graciously. She supposed he was used to getting second looks between his longish hair and heavily muscled body. And he certainly didn’t look tame with his tattooed and pierced chest bared and his board shorts hanging low on his hips. He looked like sin in the flesh. She wondered if he ever wore a cowboy hat and vowed to savor that image as her face began to heat. Why had she pushed him away the other night? Oh, because he would be leaving soon, and he obviously didn’t want anything long-term with her.

  She’d made a fool of herself, but Ross seemed willing to play nice. He was actually pretty sweet to her, reassuring her that everything would be okay. His offer to see about calling some contractors to deal with knocking the ruined shed down pulled her from her wayward thoughts. She’d already left messages with several contractors about fixing the dock, and none of them had gotten back to her. Maybe a man’s voice on the phone would help. She felt bad about her earlier irritation over him inviting himself to the bar after how supportive he’d been today.