Winner Takes All

by Judy Kentrus

  She lifted a brow and patted his very handsome face. “Unless society has gone off the deep end and changed the rules, men aren’t allowed in the ladies’ room. Talk to Preston and tell Jennie she’s got the job.”

  Cindi stood up, forgetting she was shoeless on one foot. Hotness swept her cheeks when she reached under the table and retrieved her shoe. She couldn’t resist one more teasing dig. “Sorry, I discovered something very hot and hard under my foot.” Cindi turned about and limped off, dangling her shoe from the tip of her finger.

  “She is quite a woman,” Jennie laughed. “Now, about that job.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Jessie demanded the moment they stepped into the ladies’ room. Luckily the three stalls were empty.

  Cindi plopped down in a dainty white metal chair and took off her other shoe. “My feet are killing me! Do you have to throw up or something?”

  “No, it was just a ploy to get you alone.” Jessie brushed a finger down one of the wide green stripes in Cindi Pearl’s hair. “Did you do this on purpose?”

  “It was supposed to be pink, but my home color project failed miserably.” Cindi plucked at the tight fabric that molded her hips. “As for why I’m dressed like a hooker…” Cindi explained about Preston helping her out with the derby accounting problem and pretending to be his un-girlfriend.

  “Remind me to kick him in his ass for saying you were no one special.”

  “Thanks, Jessie. I needed that,” Cindi said with a half smile.

  “Lincoln told me about the sick gift. I’d like to strangle the person myself. I wrote up a report about the theft, just to keep everything legal. I’ll sit on it until I hear different from my husband.” Jessie tucked a finger under the shoulder strap of Cindi’s dress and tugged it up. “For a minute I thought you had a boob job on your lunch hour. One of your Adidases was showing.”

  “Thanks. A do-it-yourself sock job is a lot cheaper. I’ll be glad when this night is over.”

  “How do you think Preston is going to react to our ceremony tomorrow night? I purposely invited his sister as a way to make sure he shows up. I also think it’s time she met the real Cindi Pearl. You can’t continue your ditzy blonde routine the rest of the weekend. As the saying goes, the truth will set you free.”

  “That is great advice. I once heard Lincoln describe a situation as a cluster-fuck. I believe I am experiencing one firsthand.”

  Chapter 5

  The following morning, Cindi literally rolled out of bed. She’d only had one drink, but her body felt like she’d downed Jell-O shots all night. Her feet still hurt, and a blister had formed on the bottom of her big toe. After taking a ten-minute shower and washing her hair three times, she studied the hangdog face in the oval mirror over the bathroom sink and winced. The directions on the box of “Quick Highlights” promised the temporary color would wash out. Unfortunately, puke-green streaks still blended with her blond hair. She hoped the stain wouldn’t be so obvious when her hair dried. If she was thinking clearly, she’d call Preston and tell him to stuff his invitation, but that would be disappointing Jen, whom Cindi really liked. The disastrous evening was her own doing, so she’d have to grin and bear the consequences.

  It was too early to get ready for her so-called “date” to show Jennie around the town, so she didn’t bother with underwear and stepped into her old denim cutoffs and pulled on a lacy white camisole. She grabbed her silk robe from the back of the bathroom door before going downstairs. While living in Manhattan, she’d found the kimono in a secondhand shop in Chinatown, and she’d always wondered what the Chinese lettering between the red hibiscus flowers meant.

  The new-day sun penetrated the three valance-draped windows that faced the eastern sky, brightening the country kitchen, which was decorated in a soft blue. Sam had left a note on the kitchen table. What happened last night, hubba-hubba? Cindi shook her head. Her best friend didn’t know the half of it. The temperature on the big round thermometer on the metal garden shed close to the house read seventy-five degrees, and it was only eight o’clock. It was going to be a hot one. She opted for a tall glass of iced sun tea and drank it down on her way to the adjoining mud room to get her cowgirl boots and the straw hat she wore doing farm chores.

  The lower section of the stone-and-frame barn was much cooler and smelled of fresh hay. Cream Puff had left four eggs and was on the perching rod over the wood- frame nesting box. Cookie paced like an expectant father, undoubtedly wondering what was keeping breakfast. Roosters were known to announce the day as soon as the sun came up, but this farm’s proud fowl cock-a-doodled whenever the mood struck. He’d recently started wearing a doll-sized top hat, thanks to Edith Amanda.

  “Thank you, guys, for the eggs.” Cindi changed the straw in the nesting box and the ducks’ beds, not that they ever used them. The free-spirited sisters nested any place their little duck hearts desired. More times than not, they could be found among the tall reeds, tiger lilies and cattails that rimmed the freshwater pond in the rear of property. She mucked out the cow and calf’s space and gave all the critters food and water.

  The hot, humid air slicked her skin the moment she stepped outside, and she pushed the straw hat off her forehead. Time for another shower, she decided. Her next stop was the thriving vegetable garden alongside the equipment shed. The beefsteak tomatoes had reddened enough to be picked. A couple had fallen to the ground and started to soften, so she added them to her basket.

  The sound of a car coming down the drive drew her attention. She walked around the side of the stone house and stopped short at the sight of Preston Reynolds exiting his dark copper Aston Martin convertible. He certainly wasn’t shy driving a three-hundred-thousand-dollar car. What else did he have to spend his money on? Certainly not women. She was surprised he owned a pair of designer jeans and a T-shirt. The edge of the cloud-white sleeves gripped the pronounced muscles on the upper part of his arms, and the tightened material across his chest emphasized his firm rib cage. His tight-ass personality appeared to be firmly in place, and his mirrored sunglasses couldn’t mask his angry scowl. He looked good enough to eat, and she wouldn’t have minded sinking her teeth into his abs.

  Preston had never been angrier in his life and decided to have it out with Cindi Pearl. He needed to set some ground rules so they could get through the rest of the weekend without a repeat of the previous evening, but his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. She was the sexiest hillbilly he’d ever seen, sauntering toward him in cowgirl boots, swinging a wicker basket. The slight breeze spread the opening of the flowery kimono that flirted with the bottom of her very brief denim shorts. A major hard-on sprang to life when her thin camisole revealed the shadow of dark nipples and pointed breasts. He swallowed hard. No, they were not small. A stronger breeze caught the brim of her hat and whipped it off her head. When she bent over to pick it up, the denim rode high on her delicious butt cheeks, and it was evident she wasn’t wearing underwear. He groaned inwardly. This time he couldn’t accuse her of trying to entice or seduce him, because she’d had no knowledge he was coming to see her.

  She took a bold stance and immediately went on the offensive. “What the hell do you want? How do you know where I live?”

  “I work for the same security company, remember? Why did you pull that crazy-ass stunt last night? You looked and acted like a Times Square hooker! I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life!”

  “I’m surprised you even know where to find one! I overheard you telling your sister that I wasn’t anyone special, just a nice woman you work with and give an occasional poke. You have some nerve! You hurt my feelings!” Cindi jabbed him in the chest with her pointer finger, forgetting her sharp nail extensions. “You know what’s wrong with you?”

  “No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he sneered.

  “You are so out-to-lunch with your damn figures and computers. You’re too serious, too stringent, too proper. Your face would probably crack if you smiled! In other words,
you’re a tight-ass son of a bitch who doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself.”

  Preston stiffened at her insults. “You have some nerve tossing offensive adjectives at me.”

  “Listen to yourself! You don’t even know how to insult me without using proper English.”

  “You want proper insults, Ms. Sullivan?” He leaned in to her face. Their noses were almost touching. “How’s this? You are as graceless as a ballerina with two left feet. If they put a small hole in the middle of a football field, your clumsy, inept self would step in it! The Band-Aid manufacturers reference you every time they give profit reports to their stockholders!”

  “Hah! I’ll give you clumsy. How’s this?” Cindy backed away and reached into her overflowing basket for a soft tomato. She brought her arm back like a baseball pitcher on a mound and aimed for his head. His reflexes were better than she expected, and he dodged the red projectile. Unfortunately, it splattered against the windshield of his three-hundred-thousand-dollar car. “Whoops!” she giggled and took off like a bat out of hell toward the barn. Breathless, she ran up the concrete ramp to the main level, and all thoughts of escape died away. The huge doors were slightly ajar, and the iron bar, which usually bolted the double doors to keep out unwanted predators and curious animals, dangled from iron support bolts. They never forgot to set the bolt. She didn’t turn at the sound of Preston’s hurried footsteps coming up the ramp.

  “You little…” He stopped. All the playfulness was gone from her paled features. “What is it?”

  “We never leave this open.” Cindi noticed he wasn’t even breathing heavily from his jaunt after her.

  “Maybe Samantha just forgot?”

  “No, we learned our lesson the hard way. A few months back we got three chickens, and a fox literally got into the hen house. We’ve since moved Cookie and Cream Puff to the lower level and raised their nesting boxes.”

  Preston raised a brow. “Cookie? Cream Puff?”

  “Our rooster and hen. We also have a cow named Pound Cake and Brownie, her calf. We named them after sweet treats since Sam is going to open a tea shop and bakery.”

  “Makes sense. Come on, let’s take a look inside. Let me go first.”

  The smell hit them the moment they stepped into the huge open space. “I’ll turn on the overhead lights.” Cindi put a hand over her mouth because of the foul odor, but also the surprise that occupied the center of the room. Someone had gifted them a huge mound of black plastic bags. They’d been split open to allow rotten-smelling garbage to escape.

  Preston pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Why would someone dump this shit in here?”

  “All that fresh garbage would attract predators. See those steps on the side of the room? They go to the lower level, where we keep our livestock. I think this was meant to be my second warning.”

  “What are you talking about, second warning?”

  Cindi wiped the sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her kimono and told him about the critter with the broken neck, Jessie filing a private police report and Lincoln covering their derby expenses so the kids wouldn’t be disappointed.

  “Your request to find the missing money just became a top priority.” Preston glanced around the cool interior. “This doesn’t look like an ordinary barn. Everything appears to have been updated. The wood walls are refinished. The black iron drop lighting is unique. You could have a barn dance in here. Where does that set of steps lead?”

  “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Preston followed her up the iron stairway, but his eyes had found a permanent home on her cute butt that swayed enticingly with each step she took. This couldn’t and shouldn’t be happening. His visit was supposed to be short and sweet. He’d meant to tell her to ditch the ditzy blonde routine and be herself for the rest of the weekend, but he was so caught up in his own heightening hard-on, he almost missed her explanation.

  “The previous owner’s wife was an artist and needed her own space, so he finished off the loft area. This is where she did her work.” Cindi’s soft voice echoed throughout the open space, which included six rectangular skylights and sun-brightened windows. “Samantha found a few paintings and contacted the late artist’s husband. He said the apartment had a very special meaning. They called it their love nest.” Cindi led him down a short hall and stepped into a bedroom with a high vaulted ceiling. “As you can see, he left the bed frame and mattress.”

  “Is that a sample of her work?” Preston asked. Two white doves, their wings spread wide in flight, holding a red heart, had been painted on the wall behind the bed. The artist’s fine hand had written, You are my life, my happiness, my love.

  “She did beautiful work. The birds appear so real, you want to reach out and touch them.”

  “Through there is a full, designer bathroom. He had it equipped with everything she needed, including an intercom directly into the house.”

  “He was certainly being overprotective.”

  “Oh, his wife was in a car accident when she was in her late thirties and lost an arm and the use of one leg. He had a special chair lift installed, but Sam had it removed.”

  When her narration was met with heavy silence, Cindi spun about. The quietness in the room pressed against her ears, but it was the hungry look on his face that heightened her senses. She put a hand to her throat and tried to make light of the situation. “Tour’s over. Time to go downstairs and clean up the mess.”

  The next thing she knew, her hat went flying across the room, and his hands found her shoulders. “Preston?” she choked out.

  “You are driving me freaking crazy!” He slowly guided her backward to the edge of the bare mattress. “Even when you are being sweet Cindi Pearl and not that blonde dingbat, all I want to do is taste that mouth.” They landed on the soft bed with him on top. “Don’t move. I need to get this out of my system. If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me now.”

  Cindi didn’t know what was going to happen and didn’t care. Preston’s solid form had her pinned to the bed, and she wanted him. She wanted it all, but a kiss was a very nice place to start.

  When she remained silent, he got his answer. He wanted to devour her mouth in one quick kiss and get her out of his system, but this might be his only time to enjoy her. He lowered his head and stroked the surface of her lips with his own, savoring her sweet, honey-like softness. The luscious taste of her shattered his self-control, and he shivered with hot desire. Caution be damned, he thought and relished every facet of her tantalizing body. He was lost.

  This was the kiss of her dreams, from the man of her dreams, so she let herself take pleasure in his manly scent, his strong body and his steel hardness that found a warm resting place between her thighs. Their heartbeats joined, beating out of control. She wanted to run her fingertips down his back, memorize the feel of his muscles, experience his heat, but he told her not to move.

  She was more than he desired. When he raised his head, his eyes fell on her kiss-swollen lips. One taste and he’d become addicted. She opened her mouth to say something, but he silenced her with a finger. “More?” he whispered. At her slight nod, he threw caution to the wind and delighted in her mouth one last time.

  He reluctantly ended the kiss and brushed a few greenish hairs off her forehead. The sun had pinked her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “You know this can’t go any further. I can’t make love to you.”

  “Bullshit,” Cindi wanted to scream. The proof of his arousal pressing against her confirmed there was nothing wrong with the male mechanics of his body. She wouldn’t push, but called his bluff. “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t. I like you Cindi, really like you, but there are limitations to what I can offer a woman.”

  “I’ve never been a greedy person, so I’ll take whatever I can get.” For now.

  Temptation drew him to sample her lips one more time, but something jumped on his back, and a soft furry body planted itself between his shoulder blades. He turned hi
s head and encountered a wet nose. “And who is this?”

  “Meet the real Donut,” Cindi laughed, tickling the pygmy goat under his chin.

  “Be careful when you get up. Our two ducks, Cupcake and Muffin, are probably right behind. The three are practically inseparable. I call them the three amigos.”

  “How do I get him off my neck?”

  Cindi scooped up the pygmy goat by the belly. “Come here, you rascal. Let the man up.”

  When they went downstairs, Cupcake and Muffin were squatting on the plastic bags, and their incessant quacking echoed throughout the high-ceilinged barn. “Yes, I know this garbage shouldn’t be here,” Cindi soothed. “I’ll let Jessie know what we found and then tackle this mess.”

  “Let’s take some pictures first. Maybe we’ll find something with a personal address to indicate where this crap came from. I’ll give you a hand and then go home and take a shower. I have to pick up Jennie at eleven-thirty. Are you going to be all right here alone?”

  “I’ll be fine. These animals are my protectors.” When they had more time, she’d tell him about the ducks playing hero and helping capture a killer.

  After they notified Jessie of their find and bagged the garbage, Cindi walked Preston to his car. “Don’t pick me up. I’ll park in the rear of the Spoonful and meet you in front of Jack’s Pizzeria.”

  He paused before opening the driver’s side door. “I have two questions. Who is going to join me for the rest of the weekend? Cindi Pearl or your alter ego?”

  “Me,” she laughed. “Question two?”

  “Is there anything between you and TJ?”

  Cindi sensed a bit of jealousy in his question. “Do you mean is Treig John Taylor my significant other?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. We dated for a while and remain good friends, hang-out buddies of sorts.”

  He couldn’t resist and put a hand to the back of her neck. “Good.” What followed was a long, sweet kiss.

  “Yes!” Cindi watched him back out of the driveway and danced all the way into the house.