Stockings (Whispering Cove)

by McKade, Mackenzie

  “I’m not doing anything wrong.” She visually trembled and he had the uncontrollable urge to take her into his arms, until she added, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  This wasn’t going exactly how he had planned. Then again, what had he expected?

  “Maybe I should go?” When she didn’t say a word, he brushed his palms down his pants. Then, like an idiot, he left without even a good-bye. He was still listing off all the reasons this night had failed horribly when he climbed into his car and headed home.

  Home was a secluded cottage on a hilltop overlooking the ocean. Most people didn’t know he had money and that’s the way he wanted it. But he had splurged on the house. He loved the ocean and this home had the most exquisite view from almost all rooms.

  Leo didn’t park in the three-car garage. Instead, he pulled to a stop in front of the house, got out and headed for the front door. As he switched on a light and entered, his gaze swept over the masculine brown leather furniture, the seventy-inch television surrounded by a dark-wood entertainment center that took up one whole wall. Man-cave described his home, even down to the rustic artwork he had brought with him from Boston and the large tan-and-brown rug thrown before the fireplace.

  His boots tapped lightly across the cream-colored Saltillo tile floors as he walked to the French doors in his living room and swung them wide. A cold sea breeze swept over him. The rolling waves sung a gentle lullaby as he stepped upon the wooden deck. The ocean was a prickly mistress, but tonight she seemed to be a little melancholy. He listened to the waves lapping at the rocks below. Sighing, he stared up at the star-studded night, feeling lonely for the first time since he’d moved to Whispering Cove. Maybe he should take some time off and go home to see his parents.

  Quietly, he moved into the house and toward his bedroom. He needed a shower and maybe a drink. As he passed the bar he hesitated. Maybe the drink first. He reached for a Clarendon Hills Hickinbotham Syrah from McLaren Vale, Australia. It was an eighty or ninety-dollar bottle of wine that his mother had sent him. He poured a little of the dark red wine into a glass, swirled it around and inhaled the tanned, leathered smoky scent. Then he took a sip. Myriad dark-fruit flavors burst upon his palette. The herbaceous notes and almost peppery taste clearly revealed its age.

  “Mom, you always did know your wines.” He poured half a glass, corked the top, and then continued on to his bedroom.

  His master bedroom was no different from the rest of the house. Dark furniture reiterated that a bachelor lived within. Hell, he probably wouldn’t have had but one pillow on the large king bed, but his mother had once again rescued him. The suede two-tone comforter and array of different shaped pillows had been a house-warming gift.

  Shrugging out of his coat, he tossed it upon the bed and began to kick off his boots. Thoughts of Tempest Sky invaded his mind as he removed his clothes. He shouldn’t have been so hard on her when they first met. Stepping into the wrap-around shower, he turned the water on, a cold spray struck him, his skin pebbling in response as he plastered his naked back against the cold marble. In no time the water warmed and he stepped beneath it letting it sluice over his body. Turning his face to the flow he closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment before reaching for the soap.

  As his callused palms moved over his arms, his chest, he wondered how soft Tempest’s hands would be. When he cupped himself, soaped down, the thought of her touch sent a rush of blood to fill his balls. Her hands were so small, so delicate, but also held strength from the way she wielded her blowpipe, which was the wrong word to use as he pictured her lips, mouth upon his cock.

  A slight tingle made his grip tighten. With slow, measured pumps from the base to tip, he thought of her. Thought of her dreamy eyes looking up at him and his rhythm increased. It had been a long time since a woman had gone down on him. Would she suck gently or scrape her teeth across him as her tongue danced over his slit, tasting him?

  Blood pounded through his veins, his dick throbbed and his balls grew heavy where they hung between his thighs. Widening his stance, he rocked forward on his feet. Harder and faster, he thrust his hips forward, pushing his engorged erection through his fingers. He braced his free hand against the wall, threw back his head and let the water pelt his skin as fire licked his sensitive organ.

  Visions of Tempest down on her knees, her beautiful mouth sucking his cock, the caress of her tongue, the warmth and moisture of her wet cavern.

  “God!”

  Out of nowhere his climax slammed into him, rocking him back on his heels. A tremor shook him as he forced himself to remain upright. When his balls clenched and propelled hot jets of come through his cock, he groaned. With unsteady strokes, he continued to pump his hand, up and down, until all his semen spilled.

  Heart pounding, breathless, he gave himself a shake and eased his back against the chill of marble. What the hell was coming over him? Tempest Sky was wrong for him. Besides, she hated him and who could blame her?

  Laughter burst from between his lips. He needed to screw his head on straight because he wasn’t thinking right. The woman was night—he was day. Clearly he needed the touch of a woman and not that of a black leather and lace stranger.

  Chapter Six

  Excitement thrummed through Sky’s veins when she heard the tinkling bell that announced her first customer had arrived. It was eleven days before Christmas. She just might make enough to get out of this town sooner rather than later. Drying her hands on a paper towel, she tossed it in the small wastebasket beneath the sink and popped a piece of bubblegum into her mouth. Chewing, she exited and walked in to see Harold’s granddaughter and her two rambunctious boys.

  “Donal, don’t even think about it,” Andie scolded as the boy reached for an ornament hanging from a wrought iron tree. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her side. Daniel stood quietly pressed against her leg on the other side. When she looked up, her eyes met Sky’s.

  “Hi, Tempest.”

  Immediately Sky went on the defensive. Tendons tightened across her shoulders and she fought the urge to blow a bubble and snap her gum. “Good morning. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I—” Andie pinched her lips together before she inhaled and released it slowly. “I came to apologize.”

  Now that wasn’t what Sky expected. In fact, she nearly choked on her gum. “It isn’t necessary.”

  “Yes, it is. Grandpa thoroughly chastised me for judging a book by its cover. Not that you’re a book,” she quickly added with a terse chuckle. “What I mean is… I misjudged you. I drew conclusions before getting the opportunity to really know you and for that I’m truly sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed until Donal jerked from Andie’s hold and darted toward a shelf aligned by some of Sky’s more expensive creations.

  “Donal! No!”

  But it was too late. He stood tippy-toed and reached for an S-shaped flame Sommerso, knocking a sunfire decorative vase over in the process. The elegant sculpture fell to the floor with an explosive crash that frightened the boy and froze him where he stood. All around him laid sharp shards of glass.

  “Oh my God,” Andie breathed, while big tears swelled in her son’s eyes. Releasing Daniel’s hand, she moved quickly to Donal’s side, sweeping him into her arms and carrying him out of harm’s way. She hugged him close as she raised her gaze to Sky.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry.” The bare truth was written across her face. “I’ll pay for the damage.”

  Sky bit her lip to keep the emotion at bay. “It was an accident.” Stella had taught her the Sommerso technique and the broken vase had been her first successful piece.

  “Really. How much do I owe you?”

  Before Sky could reply the bell chimed and two women waltzed in chatting. They immediately approached Andie exchanging hellos and began to fawn over her sons.

  “Your grandfather suggested we come take a look.” Then the slender woman with classical facial str
ucture scrutinized Sky. “You must be Tempest. Welcome to Whispering Cove. I’m Mary Ann Elway and this is Helen Tate. We’re the organizers of the Christmas Bazaar, which started a week ago and will carry on until Christmas Eve.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” Helen said with an air of snootiness.

  “If your work is as good as Harold suggested, we’d like to showcase some of your art.” Sky stood dumbfounded, until Mary Ann added, “Are you interested?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  Helen glanced toward the broken vase. “What a shame. It was a Sommerso, wasn’t it?”

  Shocked that the short blonde-headed woman knew what she was looking at, even broken to smithereens, Sky nodded.

  Mary Ann looked around the shop her gaze landing on another Sommerso piece. “Your work?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mary Ann and Helen shared a knowing smile. “I think we can do business. We’ll take a look around while you clean up.”

  Sky rushed to the back for a broom. Oh my God, how am I ever going to repay Harold? When she returned both women, including Andie were holding pieces of her work.

  “Tempest, this is beautiful.” Andie held the flame Sommerso that Donal had been attracted to. She eased down upon her knees. Donal and Daniel grew nearer. “It looks like the colors are submerged in water.”

  “Pretty,” Donal and Daniel said in unison.

  “Only the most talented glassblowers can encase ribbons of color in glass, allowing light to pass through, illuminating the colorful center. Your work is amazing,” Helen gushed, the snootiness gone from her voice. “We’d be happy to commission your work. If you agree to the terms.”

  “Well, this is gorgeous.” Andie got to her feet. “Boys, I think we should take this home and show it to Daddy.” The boys squealed their agreement. As she carried it to the old register Sky had found among other things in the storeroom, Andie added, “And Tempest, I insist on paying for the broken piece as well.”

  Sky rung Andie’s purchases, loving the sound of the register as the drawer slid open and she placed the bills and change into it. After Andie said her good-byes, Mary Ann and Helen approached her.

  Helen set a vase down next to a group of pieces she and Mary Ann had chosen. “We’ll take these ten to begin with if you agree to a thirty percent consignment fee.”

  “Twenty,” Sky countered, knowing the worth of her work.

  The two women looked at each other. Mary Ann nodded.

  “Deal.” Helen jutted out her hand. After they shook, she continued, “We’ll have a runner come by to pick up the merchandise. And if you have any more Sommersos we’d be happy to take them as well.”

  “I have a couple more items boxed.” In truth she had decided to wait to unpack the rest of her merchandise until she saw how business was in this small town, especially since her time here was limited.

  Mary Ann switched her purse to her other hand. “Fantastic.”

  Sky couldn’t contain her surprise. Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Sight unseen?”

  “Honey, judging by your work I know they’ll be as beautiful as the rest of your art,” Helen replied.

  Sky beamed inside. “I’ll get everything ready.”

  “Very good. Mary Ann, I think we’re through here. How about a latte?”

  “Sounds marvelous. It was a pleasure meeting you, Tempest.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” And Sky meant every word.

  “We’ll talk soon.” Helen turned and headed for the door with Mary Ann behind her.

  The doorbell chimed, leaving Sky alone, but excited. Things were really working out for her. Moving toward the ovens, she switched them on just as the doorbell rang. It was Byron, Errol and Harold.

  “Chickadee, I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  “Nice.” Errol scanned the store. “I need something for a friend of mine. What would you recommend?”

  Sky switched her ovens off to avoid heating the room. “Tell me a little bit about her.”

  “Her? How’d you know it was for a woman,” he asked, while Byron and Harold chuckled.

  Sky just smiled. It was a lucky guess.

  After Errol finished describing Delilah and how much she enjoyed flowers, Sky chose an exquisite vase with scalloped edges trimmed in gold. “Might I suggest a bouquet of white lilies when you present her with the gift.”

  Errol grinned. “Great suggestion. I’ll do that.”

  “And I’ll take this for my wife.” Bryon held up a Christmas ornament with a blend of different colors.

  Carefully, she wrapped the ornament and then the vase. “Harold, thank you for recommending my work to Mary Ann and Helen.”

  “Knew them two would be impressed. They be Whispering Cove’s self-appointed leaders in bringing culture and art to our town.” He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Had any problems around here?”

  “Problems?” She rang Errol up and then Byron.

  “Can’t be too careful. Asked me son-in-law to keep an eye on the place. Uhm. Have you seen Leo?”

  “So that was why Officer Caan passed before my window two times this morning.” Each time she saw him she had prayed he’d keep walking. To her relief he had.

  “He didn’t stop in?” Something close to disappointment flittered across Harold’s face.

  “No. Thank God.”

  He frowned. “You don’t care for him? He be a nice guy when you get to know him.”

  “Thankfully, I won’t be around here long enough to discover that.” The thought was bittersweet. Sure she’d be rid of Officer Caan, but she would miss Harold and his friends.

  “Hmm. There be a foul wind blowing. Best be going. Errol. Byron.”

  As they headed for the door she glanced out the window. The day was sunny, not a breeze in sight.

  “How strange,” she whispered as she turned the ovens back on. But she didn’t have time to ponder the thought. She had things to do, namely getting the pieces for the Christmas Bazaar ready for pickup.

  The day had been productive, more than she had hoped for. After Harold and his friends left, what followed was a steady stream of customers. She had hopefully made enough for Dark Angel’s repairs and to repay Harold for his generosity, and that didn’t count the pieces she had yet to be paid for from the Christmas Bazaar.

  Sky gazed around the shop and a sense of longing overtook her. It had only been a day, but now that she’d experienced what it would be like to have her own place it would be difficult to walk away. No more working in the cold or heat, plenty of room to maneuver, but more importantly, a sense of belonging. She’d never felt that way about any place she’d traveled, but oddly in this small community she felt as if she could be happy.

  “Don’t go there.” Sky blew out a breath and mentally shook off the emotion that made her nose sting and her eyes water.

  Picking up her blowpipe, she crammed it into the oven and extracted a glob of red-hot glass on the end. She wasn’t used to being completely alone. Stella had always been there to pick her up when she was feeling this way. Sky couldn’t get wrapped up in this fantasy, because that was all it was—an illusion. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to settle down.

  The thought died a sudden death when Officer Caan walked in.

  “Good evening, Tempest.”

  Her backbone went rigid. A single brow shot upward with his use of her given name. The air around her seemed to thicken. “Officer Caan,” she emphasized his professional name. When he didn’t respond quickly enough, she added, “Can I help you?”

  “Uh. Yeah. I’m here to pick up the items for the Christmas Bazaar.”

  She glanced toward the door. “You’re the runner?”

  “Well, sort of. I was in the vicinity, retrieving some of the last-minute toys for the children tonight and, well, Harold asked if I could swing by and pickup Mary Ann’s order.”

  “The box is over there.” She pointed to her workbench.

  As
he moved toward the box, he asked, “Are you going to the Christmas Bazaar tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, yes, she is.”

  He pivoted to find Tabby and Reece behind him. Dammit. He had been so focused on Tempest that he hadn’t heard the doorbell ring or their approach. While he and Reece shook hands, Tempest turned and moved away from them.

  “I have a lot of work to do.”

  “It can wait. You’re going.” Tabby crossed her arms over her chest. “Go get ready.”

  “Really. I have orders to fill. Things to do.”

  Reece came up from behind Tabby and circled his arms around her waist. “Best to just do as she says. She won’t leave until she gets her way.” Tabby released an unladylike huff and tried to break his hold, but he held on tight. “You know it’s true.” Reece nuzzled her neck.

  She fought a smile, and then it curved her lips. “Okay. So maybe I’m a little stubborn.”

  “A little?” When she elbowed her husband in the side, he laughed out loud.

  “Tempest, it would be my pleasure to escort you.” Leo’s impromptu offer made her eyes spring wide. It even caught him by surprise, because he had no idea what he was thinking. The woman hated him.

  Panic was too mild a word for what filled her eyes. “Uh— I’m—”

  “That’s a great idea,” Reece chimed in. “We’ll make it a foursome. Afterward we’ll head over to Hauk’s. Everyone will be there.”

  Leo watched her swallow hard, before she reached for another excuse. “I don’t think I should—”

  “Don’t go there, Tempest.” Tabby glanced over her shoulder at Reece. “You two can go ahead. I’ll help her get ready and we’ll meet up with you.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Tempest insisted.

  “I know, but I want to. C’mon, let’s see what you have in your closet.” On hesitant footsteps she followed Tabby out the back door.

  Leo picked up the box off the workbench. “I have one more pickup to make before heading over to City Hall. Want to help?”