by Judy Kentrus
He tightened his fingers around the sweating glass. “When are you and the rest of the world going to understand, I am not a hero? It’s been seven years. They act like it was yesterday. That’s the first thing Mom brings up every time I come home, followed by asking when am I going to find a nice girl and settle down.”
Preston noticed the maître d’ had just escorted an attractive couple to a table on the other side of the dining room. “If you need proof Cindi is a coworker, my boss and his wife just came in.”
“I had the pleasure of meeting that gorgeous hunk this afternoon. With his black hair in a queue and that black eye patch, he looks a pirate. I’d become his willing captive anytime. I’d even let him tie me up.”
“You did hear me say the beautiful woman with the reddish-gold hair, holding Lincoln’s hand, is his wife? I’d be very careful if I were you. She might be the one capturing you for trying to mess with her man. She carries a gun.”
“Gun?”
“She’s a lieutenant on the Laurel Heights police force.”
Preston was getting anxious and pushed back the sleeve of his navy blazer. The time on his gold watch said seven-twenty. What was keeping Cindi?
“I am out of my freakin’ mind.” Cindi managed to squeeze Pansy, her VW Beetle, into one of the few vacant parking spaces on Main Street. Before the infusion of new stores, the center of town had been practically dead when the sun went down. “I’d be better off at home, snuggled up with Donut on the love seat in my bedroom, watching reruns of Lavern & Shirley.”
A softly lighted banner of Tiffany glass panels framed the expansive front window and a variety of decorative dwarf trees wasn’t enough to hide the intimate dining room. Her anxiety increased when she noticed that all of the linen-draped tables were occupied. Before reaching for the brass door handle, she glanced down to check the bodice on her halter dress. Samantha’s boobs were bigger, and Cindi had stuffed a couple of socks in the bodice so her breasts appeared fuller. Her feet throbbed like a toothache. She’d had to borrow skinny strap stilettos that were too small. She’d be lucky if she didn’t break an ankle.
She pulled open one of the wood-framed glass doors and stepped into a small vestibule. A maître d’, formally dressed in a black-tie tuxedo, stood before a concierge podium and greeted three other couples. His head of thick, snow-white hair was neatly trimmed, as was his handlebar moustache. She swayed nervously from side to side and hummed along with the softly playing instrumental version of “Memory” that filled the richly decorated space.
“Good evening, madam. May I help you?”
Cindi stepped up the podium and purposely kept her voice low. His engraved nametag, just below the fresh white rosebud in his lapel, read “Simmons”. “I don’t normally dress like this, Simmons, but I’m playing a joke on a friend. I’m a really nice person. I run the bingo games at the senior citizens’ center, and go to church every Sunday.” Cindi leaned in a bit closer. “The tat on my arm isn’t permanent.”
“It’s quite all right,” he replied with an understanding smile. “The name of your party?
“Preston Reynolds.”
“He is already seated. Follow me.”
The moment they stepped into the dining room, conversation, eating and drinking stopped. All the eyes of the well-dressed diners zeroed in on the blonde bombshell in hot pink.
Lincoln just happened to glance away from the leather-bound menu in his hand and blinked once, twice, telling himself the hussy in the flashy pink dress, with the exaggerated, hip-swinging walk, wasn’t his Cindi Pearl headed for the table occupied by his forensic accountant.
Jessie had just decided on the surf and turf and turned her head to ask Lincoln what he wanted to eat, but followed his gaze. Her mouth dropped. “Oh my God, tell me that isn’t your sweet, wonderful assistant.”
“I wish I could,” he chuckled. “My gut is telling me we are about to get a floor show with our dinner. We may live in a small town, but things are far from dull.”
“The other night, I got the impression they didn’t like one another.”
Lincoln settled his eyes on his beautiful wife, who was carrying his son or daughter. “I wish you could have known him before he got hurt. He’s done an about-face in the personality department. We were in the same Army Ranger unit, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do or try. He was a damn explosives specialist. I wouldn’t be sitting here if it wasn’t for him.”
Jessie leaned forward and kissed her husband softly. “Remind me to thank him for making sure you weren’t killed. As for Cindi, aren’t you going to do something?”
“Not at this time. I think she has got him by the proverbial—excuse the expression—balls, and is about to give him a run for his money. She is exactly what he needs.”
“How do you think he’ll react to the ceremony tomorrow night? Have you invited him?”
“With all that has been going on this past week, it slipped my mind.”
An idea formed in Jessie’s head. “Leave it to me.”
Preston was oblivious to the hand-shielded whispers from the other diners and unaware his dinner date had arrived until the maître d’ approached his chair.
“Sir, your other guest has arrived.”
Preston sighed with relief, pushed his chair back and stood up. The welcoming smile on his face dimmed and he closed his eyes, wondering if he imagined the gaudy vision before his eyes. “Cindi?” he choked out.
“Hi, honeybunch.” Her voice was thick with the ditzy blonde routine she was putting on. “Sorry I’m late. I had a pair of sheer silk stockings that I wanted to wear because I know how much you like to feel up my legs, but I accidentally poked a hole in the material with my nails.” Cindi wiggled the long, shocking-pink nail extensions and then raised the hem of her dress a good four inches above her knees. “See, my legs are bare naked.”
She twirled around like a glittery spinning top and grabbed his shoulder when her ankle started to give way. The furious look on his face said her plan was working.
“Hope you don’t think my dress is too sparkly.” She dipped her head to the side and pouted. “I’m really sorry about the green streaks in my hair. It was supposed to come out pink like my dress, but something went really wrong. I wanted to look nice for your sister.” She ran a hand down the front of his rose-and-cream-colored tie. “Aw, that is so sweet. How did you know I was going to wear pink? You can tie me up later and I’ll add it to my collection of your silk ties. Oops,” she giggled, “I probably won’t be wearing anything.”
Jennie, too, was at a loss for words and wondered if this woman was for real. She was enjoying the show much too much. “Since my brother has turned mute, I’ll introduce myself.” She held out a hand. “Jennifer Reynolds, but I prefer Jen or Jennie. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”
Cindi held out a hand. “Pleased to meet ya, honey.”
Preston finally found his voice and wrapped his hand around her upper arm. He felt her wince and glanced down. “What the hell is that?”
“My new tattoo! Don’t you just love it? I know how much you like to nibble and suck at the one on my boob, so I had them put a pink Tootsie Roll Pop on my arm.” She pressed her fingertips against her lips. “Guess I shouldn’t say that in mixed company.”
He put his lips to her ear. Cheap perfume smacked him in the face. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Joining you for dinner, sweet cakes.” She grinned and patted him on the cheek. “Let’s sit down. I’m starving. Spent my lunch hour at the salon to get gussied up for tonight. You don’t take me to nice places ‘cause I’m no one special.” No sooner had Cindi taken a seat than the waiter arrived.
“Would you like something to drink?” He managed to ask the question with a straight face.
“Oh, honey, I sure would. How about a strawberry daiquiri? The color will match my dress and tattoo. Could you please ask the bartender to add a couple extra cherries?” She winked at a gaping Preston and leaned in closer,
offering a glimpse of her cleavage. “You didn’t get my cherry, but I’ll give you one from my drink.”
Preston had never experienced the humiliation of being put on a hot seat and suffered the eyes of the other diners taking in the spectacle at their table, including his very good friend and boss. Lincoln was smiling and offered a thumbs-up!
“I’m so glad you could join us for dinner,” Jen told her. “Preston said you work for the same company and are good friends.”
“Oh, honey, we are very good friends. PJ is quite the stud. Sometimes I walk by his office and have to fan myself just thinking about his hot loving. But we can’t tell anybody.”
“PJ?”
“His name is Preston James, and calling him Preston is so formal. I call him PJ when we are humping like rabbits. He’s goes like a real jackhammer.”
Jen burst out laughing and took a good long drink of scotch. She really, really liked this woman.
Preston, too, reached for his glass and drank it down. When the waiter brought Cindi’s drink with four cherries, he ordered another, a double. Nibble on her tit! Jackhammer! He wasn’t a violent man, but right now he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and beat her bare naked bottom!
“I like your dress. I have one that is similar, but it’s midnight-blue and not quite as sparkly.” Jennie wondered what game Cindi was playing. She couldn’t be for real. Could she? Her brother was beside himself with embarrassment. Good! He needed shaking up.
Cindi’s eyes darted to the left, to the right, and then she lowered her voice to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “It’s on loan for the evening. The top is too big for my little boobs so I had to stuff it with socks. I borrowed the sparkly silver shoes from Jojo, my hairdresser and my feet are killing me. No one is supposed to know, but she’s having an affair with the UPS guy. He’s a real hottie, but not as spicy as my PJ.”
She’d never thought of her brother as spicy, but it sounded good. “You have my sympathy.” Jen smiled with understanding. “I’m not partial to high heels.”
There was nothing wrong with Preston’s hearing, and his eyes darted to the front of her dress. The heart-shaped neckline definitely enhanced the fullness of her breasts. Were they really small? Without those blasted ankle breakers, she was on the shorter side, but the clingy material evidenced she was all woman.
After the waiter took their dinner orders, Cindi decided to turn up the heat a little more. She pretended to drop her napkin and slid the strap off the back of her foot. “Sorry, I’m not used to fancy cloth. We have paper at my house.” She lifted her foot, and felt for the bottom of his dress trousers and casually walked her toes up the front of his leg. When all he did was give her the evil eye, the stupid bell went off in her head. She was feeling up his prosthetic leg. Cindi never claimed to have a great sense of direction, but her second attempt hit pay dirt. Her toes walked up the inside of his upper leg to discover his warm crotch.
Preston sipped his second drink and wondered at the sultry challenge in her eyes. When the bottom of her foot settled in his groin, he forced himself to appear unmoved by her seductive action. He was tempted to reach under the tablecloth and grab her foot when she started to wiggle her toes. He gave her a venomous glare that said “stop.” Now he’d have to sit through dinner with a damn hard-on!
“Hmm, isn’t this juicy,” Cindi said, wrapping her lips around one of the cherries. The bold challenge in her eyes never left his murderous stare. She took another cherry from her glass. “Here’s the cherry I promised,” she said and dangled it close to his lips. When he didn’t immediately open his mouth, she pursed her lips in a pout. “No, you don’t want my cherry.”
The sexy move shot a hot message straight to his overheated groin. Damn, he was getting harder by the second. The longer he hesitated accepting her seductive invitation, the more attention they were drawing. He grabbed her wrist and bit the red temptation off at the stem.
Jennie looked at her brother and then at Cindi. They were playing a very sexy game, and she was tempted to pick up her napkin and fan herself. “Suddenly I feel like a third wheel. Would you two rather be alone?”
He totally ignored his sister’s question and decided enough was enough. He didn’t know what he had said or done to make Cindi play this game, but it was time to teach Ms. Cindi Pearl Sullivan a lesson. He slid his chair closer to her side of the table and casually walked his fingers up her arm, pausing to outline the lollipop tattoo. “Playtime is over. My turn,” he whispered.
He turned to his sister. “Jen, I think it’s only fair to tell you that before Cindi came to work for Adams Security, she had a somewhat carefree life, but she’s mended her ways. I’m her one and only.” Preston put a finger under her chin and turned her very tempting mouth in to his. He only wanted to feather her candy-pink lips, but he was lost the second he touched her mouth. Lips, oh so soft, molded to his. He forgot where they were and his purpose of teaching her a lesson. This was his Cindi, and he let himself enjoy.
He’d turned the tables on her, and Cindi didn’t know how to react to his direct assault. Heat brushed the surface of her lips, stealing her breath. Should she move in, object or just enjoy. In the end, she thought what the hell, and let herself savor the feel of his wonderful mouth. It was a natural instinct to lower her hand beneath the tablecloth and seek out his crotch.
Jen cleared her throat. These two were hot and the other diners were getting an eyeful, including Lincoln Adams and his wife. “Excuse me. If you two can pull yourselves away from each other, the waiter would like to serve our dinner.” This was the first real emotion she’d witnessed in her brother in years. Cindi challenged him as an undamaged man. Whatever this woman was doing, Jennie prayed it would be enough to bring him back to the person he was before he lost a part of himself.
“Sorry.” Again, Preston didn’t know what came over him. Cindi just—he didn’t know—she made him react and do things like a normal man. It was wrong, totally wrong. For reasons no one would understand, he couldn’t get involved with her or any woman. This evening would be the end of things between them. Treig Taylor could satisfy her needs. The thought resurrected the pain around his heart.
On the other side of the room, Jessie Taylor-Adams couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on with Cindi and Preston. “Why would they want to keep it a secret that they are dating?”
Lincoln signed the charge slip for their dinner and finished off the last of his coffee. “I’m as confused as you are. Even when we were in Manhattan, nothing was ever mentioned about him getting involved with a woman.”
“Good, you’re finished.” Jessie stood up. “Come on, introduce me to his sister.”
Lincoln grasped his wife’s hand. “What are you up to, Lieutenant Adams?”
“I think I’ve been bitten by the Nose Patrol, busybodies who thrive on the gossip bug.”
Cindi’s heartbeat double-timed the closer her boss and his wife got to their table. They made such a beautiful couple. One would never suspect Jessie was pregnant in her slim-fitting white summer dress. Ideally, Lincoln would be tolerant of another “Cindi misadventure.” This wasn’t as bad as the time she kept Cupcake and Muffin in his Manhattan office for a week. The evening had gone downhill since she put her nail through that damn stocking—no, since her hair turned green! Escape was uppermost in her mind.
“Hope you enjoyed your dinner.” Lincoln kept a possessive arm around his wife’s waist and smiled at Preston’s sister. “Jennie, we were about to leave, but I wanted you to meet my wife, Jessie.”
Jen pushed away from the table and held out her hand. “The pleasure is mine. I can’t get over how nice everyone has been. They’ve made me feel a part of the community, and I haven’t even gotten the job.”
Jessie raised a brow at the god-awful color of Cindi’s hair before shifting her stare to Preston. “You two certainly know how to keep a secret. That was quite a show you put on the other night at my promotion party, pretending not to like each other. I don
’t know why you’ve wanted to keep your relationship quiet. As far as I know, Lincoln doesn’t have a policy stating coworkers can’t date.”
“I was also surprised. Preston never mentioned he was seriously involved.” Jennie gave her brother a pointed stare. “Cindi Pearl is perfect for him.”
Leave it to his sister to add coal to the fire. Preston silently mouthed, “I’ll get you for that.”
“It’s a shame you have to leave tomorrow. You’ll be missing a great weekend,” Jessie added. “Our Fourth of July celebration got rained out two weeks ago and has been rescheduled for tomorrow. The parade is at noon, followed by games in the park and a chicken-and-ribs barbeque in the afternoon, hosted by our volunteer fire department and first aid squad. Live music starts at six, followed by fireworks as soon as it gets dark. It would be a good time for you to mingle with the citizens.” Jessie decided not to elaborate on the special service they were having for their newly erected veteran’s memorial. The object was to make sure Preston was in the audience.
“I haven’t been to a small town celebration in…” Jennie paused. “No, I’ve never been. You’ve convinced me to stay until Monday. It will also be the perfect opportunity to spend more time with Cindi Pearl.”
Preston inwardly blanched at her announcement. He produced an unenthusiastic smile. “Oh, goodie.”
“You’ll have a great time.” Jessie put a hand to her stomach. “Cindi, I feel a little queasy and need to make a stop in the ladies’ room. I could use the company.”
Lincoln’s complexion paled, and he put a hand to his wife’s arm. “Are you sick? Do you want me to come with you?”
