Willow Smoke

by Adriana Kraft

  “From my point of view, that stinks to high heaven, Daisy Matthews. So don’t get bent out of shape over women like her. What you got is the real thing. Don’t ever let anyone tell you any different. Okay?”

  Daisy nodded. Thelma touched up her own lipstick. “Thanks, Thelma. You’re the real thing, too.”

  “Damn right. Now let’s get back to our men before some fancy hussies come along and try to lure them away.”

  - o -

  “So how’s my lovely date?” Nick asked, holding Daisy close to his body while he guided them through the steps of a waltz. He wasn’t at all surprised that Daisy had taken to dancing with the grace of a swan. They’d practiced a few times at her apartment, and now no one would have guessed that the young woman in his arms was experiencing her first formal dance.

  “I’m fine,” Daisy whispered into his ear, “although my feet are getting a little tired. I’ve never had these heels on this long.”

  “Slip them off when you get back to the table.”

  Daisy leaned back and frowned at Nick. “I wouldn’t do that. That would be uncouth.”

  “Ha. I bet if we peeked under all the delicate table cloths in this room, we’d find as many bare female feet as not.”

  “We’re not going to do that!”

  “No,” Nick chuckled, “I’ll try not to embarrass you. So, do you like Thelma?”

  “She’s a gem.”

  “Yep. And she thinks you’re pretty great, too. She may be a little blustery, but Thelma is usually slow to develop friendships.”

  “So tell me about Claire Donaldson.”

  Nick scowled and missed two steps before regaining his stride. “So you met the shrew; I’ll bet that was pleasant.”

  “Actually, Thelma chopped the woman up into tiny pieces before I could even say hello. So who is she?”

  “A social climber who wanted to climb into my bed, but never got there.”

  “Really.”

  “You must know there’ve been plenty of women in my life, but not Claire Donaldson. So what did she have to say?”

  “Not much, apart from comparing smells of gutter snipes and deodorants. She wondered if I was your niece.”

  “God, I hope no one is still wondering that,” he mumbled into her ear. He moved his hand lower on her buttocks and pulled her tighter against his groin. His erection pressed just about where it should. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply her delicious scent. “You smell good enough to eat.”

  “Promises, promises.” Her voice was husky. “Claire Donaldson, eat your heart out.”

  Two hours later, Nick lifted his head and grinned. “I like to keep my promises.”

  “Don’t stop! Not now!” Daisy pummeled his back with her heels.

  Nick smiled to himself and dipped his tongue, separating her engorged lips. She sighed in response. He liked it when she rested on the edge. Daisy was easily the most passionate woman he’d ever been with. Unexplored desire smoldered within her loins just below the surface. It pleased him immensely that he’d learned how to tap that unclaimed reservoir. It was his tongue and his lips that were able to draw her ardor to a near boiling point and then to back off, permitting it to subside of its own accord. The gradual build-up of erotic energy, the storing up of aroused synapses ultimately triggered an explosion as hot and volatile as anything he witnessed in nature.

  “Now, Nick. Now.”

  Her murmured plea touched his brain and his heart; he could no longer withhold. He tasted her moisture. He tested her heat. He inserted a finger, probed her inner chamber and flicked his tongue along the bud at the apex of its opening.

  “Oh my God!”

  Her words encouraged his efforts. Her body tensed beneath and around him and then released and then tensed and released again. At last, she shuddered and pulled away.

  For a moment, he was envious. Why was she able to ride an orgasm for so much longer than he could? And then with little rest, she’d be ready to search for another wave. Could he keep up with her? What about ten years from now?

  Nick’s eyes widened. Who cared about ten years from now?

  “You were beautiful tonight.”

  Daisy gave Nick a lazy smile and reached for the sheet.

  “Not just now. Earlier at the ball. I told you you’d be the belle of the ball and you were. Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Yes. But this was better. I prefer being here alone with you in my bed. I can be myself here.”

  “But not at the dance?”

  “Sort of, but I have to be on guard and watch how everybody is doing things. Cassie made sure I learned the basics about eating out, but there were many more forks, spoons and knives tonight than were needed.”

  Nick chuckled and pulled her close to him. “I suppose you’re right about that. Think of it this way. There was more work to go around setting the tables and washing the dishes.”

  “Right.”

  “Do you have a lock box?”

  “A lock box? You mean at the bank?”

  He nodded.

  “No. Why? Do I need one?”

  “How about household insurance?”

  Daisy ran fingers through her hair, tugging at snarls. “Nope. I don’t have anything worth stealing.”

  Nick cleared his throat. “You do now. I’d suggest putting those diamonds in a lock box. I think you’d agree this isn’t the safest neighborhood in Chicago.”

  She looked at him quizzically. “So how much household insurance do I need? I probably should have some for my office equipment anyway. I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

  “Figure out what that stuff is worth, and then add another seventy-five to it.”

  Daisy sat up straight; the sheet fell to her waist. “You mean seventy-five hundred dollars, not seventy-five. Right?”

  “You’re learning.”

  Daisy exploded off the futon and began marching back and forth. “I can’t accept that. That’s a small fortune.”

  “A very small fortune.”

  “That depends on one’s point of view,” she said, bent over with hands on hips.

  “Damn, you’re a fetching woman when you get angry like that. Particularly naked. Could you hold that position?”

  “You stay right where you are, mister. Are you trying to buy me?”

  “Good God, woman, we talked about this before. Anything I buy you is yours with no strings attached. Can I help it that I’m rich and I want to give you something beautiful now and then?”

  “Yes, you can.” Daisy’s lower lip trembled. “You’re enough without the diamonds and the fancy things.” She turned away from him. “They only remind me how different I am. Like, I’ve never once thought of needing a lock box.”

  Nick let out a ragged breath. “Daisy, I want to ask you something.”

  “Am I stopping you?”

  “No. I am.” Nick sat up in the bed. “How old are you, Daisy?”

  Daisy grabbed her nightshirt and laughed. She slipped it on; it only reached low enough to cover her belly button.

  He smiled at this quest for modesty. She looked so damn fetching in that nightshirt.

  “How old am I? You’ve been screwing me for two whole weeks and now you want to know how old I am? Don’t worry, you’re not subject to the Mann Act.”

  “I just want to know.”

  “We were talking about you giving me gifts I don’t want or need, and now you’ve switched the subject. Okay, old man. If it’ll make you feel worse, I have a birthday in three weeks.”

  Nick’s throat constricted. She was stalling. He wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. “So how old?”

  “I’ll be a ripe old twenty-one.”

  Nick collapsed on the bed and closed his eyes. Not even twenty-one. He’d thought maybe twenty-three at the youngest; hopefully, more like thirty.

  “I’ll be able to drink wine, if you’re still interested in taking me out to restaurants. Haven’t you noticed that I never drink alcohol when we’re out?”


  She was right. And he’d never thought much about it one way or the other. Wow. He’d been screwing around with a twenty-year-old. What was it Tom had said? If she’s over eighteen, she’s legal. He tried to take deep breaths. Well, she was at least that.

  “Are you just going to lie there, old man? Speak to me.” Daisy knelt on the floor beside her bed and placed a palm on his chest. “You’ve been very good, you know. But if you want to end this, I’ll understand. Sort of. I’ll be all right. You don’t have to worry about me. And you can have all your things back. The diamonds. The clothes.”

  Her finger’s tightened against his skin.

  “But I won’t give up my twenty percent of RainbowBlaze. I’ve earned that.”

  Without opening his eyes, Nick covered her hand with his. “I know you have. You don’t have to give anything back. Ever. I’ve never tried to buy you, Daisy. Giving the stuff back would only make us both feel like that was why I gave you things.”

  He cracked an eye open. He hadn’t ever seen her look so lonely and forlorn. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, kid. Nope. I won’t call you kid again, and I think it best if you drop the reference to old man.” He paused. “You’re not put off by the age difference? I’m forty-two.”

  “I’ve known that from almost the beginning. I checked at the racing office. Age hasn’t mattered to me. Why should it matter to you?”

  “So you knew before you came to my suite?”

  “Of course.”

  Nick voiced his next thought before he could stop it. “What if we were to have kids? I’d be leaning on a cane taking them to the Cubs game.”

  Daisy eyes rounded and then narrowed. “Who said anything about having kids?”

  “I just did. Not that I’m planning on it.”

  “Good.” Daisy sighed and traced a line from his chest to his belly button. “Let’s not complicate things any more than they are.”

  “But we are lovers. You do admit that, don’t you?”

  “Certainly, in a matter of speaking.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I don’t know, but why are we arguing over semantics? I feel like I’m back in freshman English.”

  “I suppose you’re right. But you won’t try to give back the gifts.”

  “No.” Her voice was meek. “But I don’t have much to give you.” She rimmed his belly button with a finger. “Except maybe me.” She leaned over and replaced her finger with her tongue.

  “As long as you give yourself freely. I wouldn’t want you thinking you were paying me back for anything.”

  Daisy glanced up with a smile on her lips. “Oh, I’m going to pay you back all right, but not for the diamonds. This is for that delightful loving a while ago.”

  Her fingers wrapped around his shaft. Nick tensed.

  “Now, you’d better enjoy a twenty-year-old while you can. I won’t be that young much longer. I skipped dessert at dinner with this in mind. I’ll just hope Claire Donaldson is having a nightmare about us at this moment.”

  Nick chuckled and sank back into the pillows. He relished the warmth of Daisy’s mouth surrounding him. Lovers or not. Twenty-one or not. Future or not. None of that counted at the moment. He was in the perfect place.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hi, Daisy, this is Angie. Angie Underwood.”

  “Hi, Angie.” Daisy cradled the phone between shoulder and cheek while grabbing a pop from the fridge. “How are you? Where are you?”

  “I’m in St. Paul with my folks for a couple days, then back to Austin, Texas for a run. But I wanted you to know that we’re coming to Chicago toward the end of September. The twenty-eighth, to be exact. Our run will last through Thanksgiving and into the first week of December. I hope we can get together.”

  Daisy pulled out a kitchen table chair and sat down. “I expect to be here.”

  “So...”

  Daisy listened to the silence.

  “So I guess I have to ask. Is my brother still in the picture?”

  “Oh. That he is. Don’t you talk to him?”

  “There’s seldom time. And,” Angie mocked, “he’s never home anymore. I wonder why?”

  “He does stay pretty busy.”

  “Right. How’s that bikini line working out?”

  “Fine. Your suggestion is much better. Not painless, but much better.”

  “Good. I won’t ask if Nick appreciates it, but he’d better. So how’s your class going?”

  “What?” Daisy frowned and looked at the receiver.

  “Aren’t you taking a course on Chaucer?”

  “Oh, that.” Daisy sighed. “It’s good. He must have been quite the character. He earns his reputation for being ribald. I have a final paper to write this coming week. And then I’ll have about a month before fall term begins.”

  “Sounds like you stay pretty busy yourself.”

  “Angie, have you ever ridden in a canoe?”

  “Of course, we spent our summers up north on lakes and rivers.”

  “Are they safe?”

  Angie laughed. “You are a city girl. Of course they’re safe, if you’re with somebody who knows what he’s doing. So Nick wants to take you to the Boundary Waters?”

  “Yes, but I said no.”

  “But you’re rethinking your position.”

  “Yes.”

  “This is bigger news than you might realize, Daisy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nick makes two or three trips a year up there to test out canoes or to just get away. When he goes, he travels alone. I’ve never heard of a woman tagging along.”

  “Not even his ex-wife?”

  “Ashley? She’d never have gone. Too many bugs and too much wild. Doubt he asked her more than once.”

  “Really. Why me?”

  “You’re going to have to figure that one out for yourself, girl. I hope you go, and I hope the loons put on a show for you. Their calls at night are incredible. Got to run. Just wanted to stay in touch. See you in a month or so. Enjoy. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Daisy hung up the phone. Now why would he think she’d like the bugs and the wild more than his ex-wife had? Shrugging, Daisy forced herself to set Nick Underwood aside so she could focus on Chaucer.

  “Thought we might find you here, baby,” Maxine cooed, stepping through the Laundromat entryway. The early evening temperatures were still scorching, so the door stood wide open.

  Daisy looked up from her book. She scowled at Reggie following behind her sister. “Hi, Maxine,” Daisy said, rising from her chair and slipping her feet into flip flops. “How are you? What brings you to this part of town?”

  “No hi for me?” Reggie sneered.

  Both women ignored him. “I’m managing. Barely,” Maxine said. “It’s hard even getting food on the table. And the landlord can’t understand that rent money is hard to come by with Reggie laid off.”

  “Cut the crap,” Reggie interrupted. “So who’s the suit?”

  “What?” Daisy’s heart leapt. Shit, somehow they’d found out about Nick.

  “Oh, baby, I’m thrilled for you.” Maxine placed a cold, sticky hand on Daisy’s bare shoulder. Daisy shrank from the touch. “I’m your sister, for God sakes—you’re supposed to confide in me about the men in your life.”

  “What man?”

  “This man!” Reggie pushed a newspaper in front of her face. “The guy who looks like he’s fingering your ass.”

  Speechless, Daisy gawked at the society page. There were many pictures of couples and small groups attending the charity ball. There she was, cuddled against Nick. His hand hardly looked innocent. She read the caption under their photo. Nicholas Underwood in a May to September romance? Who is the lucky princess? Daisy felt color working up her throat. Princess? Not hardly.

  “So who is he, baby? You can tell us,” Maxine crooned. “We’re family.”

  A dryer buzzed, propelling Daisy into action. “I’ve got to get the
clothes out.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve got plenty of time. Don’t we, Reggie?”

  “You’ve got more time than me.”

  Daisy tried not to react to her brother-in-law’s snarl. She’d have to buy them off. She couldn’t let either one of them get to Nick. They’d make him believe she was the gutter snipe Claire Donaldson thought she was.

  “He owns a horse I train.” Did her voice sound calmer than her swirling stomach?

  “Well, isn’t that handy.”

  “He looks like a handsome man, Daisy. Why did he take you to such a society bash?”

  Daisy frowned at her sister. Was it so hard to imagine that Nick just wanted to take her to the dance, to be with her for who she was?

  “I don’t know. He asked me. I said yes.”

  “Where the hell did you get the fancy clothes?” Reggie demanded. “And those rhinestones look almost real.”

  Thank God he didn’t believe they were diamonds. “Nick bought the clothes. You know I can’t afford them.” Daisy focused on folding blouses.

  “You mean you let a man buy you fancy things?” Maxine chortled bitterly. “And you always thought you were better than me. You’re no different than me and our mother. You’re no different. You’re just a more expensive whore. You’re trying to be one of those uptown call girls.”

  Daisy slapped Maxine’s cheek before there was time to think. Reggie grabbed her wrist, squeezed hard and bent it backward.

  “Bitch. I don’t care who’s banging you as long as we get a piece of the action. This guy’s got to be rich. You’re a bright girl.”

  Daisy gasped against the pain and Reggie’s breath washing over her face. “You figure out how to separate some of that money from your boyfriend so we can all share in the wealth. You understand.” He squeezed harder.

  Sharp pain shot up her arm to her shoulder. She nodded. God, don’t break my wrist!

  Reggie dropped her arm. “Don’t forget what I told you before.” He looked at Maxine. “I’ve got something you want.”