“And after dinner?” Amanda prompted.
“Actually, before dinner,” Zoe confessed, feeling her cheeks heat.
“And? Was it everything you’d hoped it would be?”
“No.”
Amanda stopped with her cup halfway to her lips. “No?” she gasped.
“It was a million times better than I hoped.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “He’s amazing, Mandy. I’ve never . . .” She found herself speechless, trying to come up with superlatives to describe the man’s expertise in the sexual prowess department.
“That’s all right. You don’t have to give me all the delightful details. It’s enough to know you’re happy.”
“Happy? Ha! I’m two blocks away from the gallery and just talking about him makes my nipples stand at attention. Yeah, I’m happy.” She couldn’t hide the ridiculous grin she sported every time she even thought about Jeff.
“Here you go, ladies.” The waitress slid a plate loaded with food in front of Zoe and placed a bowl of soup and a stacked BLT in front of Amanda. “Do you need anything else? Ketchup? Mayo? More coffee?”
They both shook their heads. “Thank you,” Zoe said, pulling her plate closer. “We appreciate the speedy service.”
Christy gestured toward the nearly empty booths. Only one stool was occupied at the other end of the counter. “Pretty easy to be quick this time of day. By noon I’ll need roller skates to keep up. Enjoy.”
Needing no further encouragement, they abandoned conversation and dug in.
Christy and Anita, the waitress behind the counter, went about refilling sugar dispensers in the empty booths. Their chatter suddenly caught Zoe’s attention. She put her finger to her lips and nodded to Amanda to listen in.
“I’m going to have to break something soon, to make Ed call Jeff to repair it,” Christy complained. “He used to be in here to eat four or five days a week, but lately he only dashes in to pick up take-out and flies out of here before I can even get to say hi.”
“I thought you two were getting kinda friendly?” the other woman prodded.
“I did too,” Christy replied. “He always ordered another whole meal after he ate, to take with him. I mean, I knew he just did that so he could spend some extra time in here and give me a bigger tip.” She smiled suggestively. “I know he appreciated my, ah, attributes.” She preened and brushed an imaginary crumb off her blouse.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be back more often once he’s done work over at the new gallery. He’s probably just real busy over there.”
Amanda settled her coffee cup in its saucer. “Zoe, stop thinking what you’re thinking. Even if Jeff did have an interest in her before, it’s obvious he’s moved on. To better things.”
“I guess.” But she remembered that night. When Jeff left to get their order from Donatelli’s, she threw on her robe and went to the window just so she could watch him walk down the street. When he stopped and took his cell phone out, she wondered who was on the other end. Who would he need to call? And why wouldn’t he have done it while he was in the apartment? Unless he didn’t want her to overhear his conversation. Was he canceling his date with someone else? Christy, maybe?
Zoe looked at her plate and lost her appetite. She pushed it away and took a sip of juice. Damn! It wasn’t as if she didn’t know any better. She’d been the target of lots of guys who only had one thing in mind—a new notch on their virtual bedposts. The charmers. The sweet-talkers. The hot-as-hell seducers. It took a couple of bruised hearts to teach her a lesson, but she’d thought she’d learned it well. Don’t trust ‘em. Unless they come bearing a diamond ring and talking about forever, and even then better to get it in writing.
Maybe her first impression of Jeff Petrosky had been right on the money. Was he a card-carrying member of the genus homo-erectus bedpostii?
“Zoe? You’re not going to let a bit of gossip between co-workers get to you, are you? Come on, if that wasn’t wishful thinking, I don’t know what is. Ignore them. Let’s—”
“Well, speak of the devil.” Anita jabbed Christy in the ribs. “Look what the cat dragged in.” She went back behind the register.
Jeff gave Christy a curt nod and went up to the counter.
Christy smoothed her uniform and sauntered over. “Hi, handsome. What can I get for you today? How about you take this booth right here”—she patted the high back of the end booth—“and I’ll get you a menu. Not that you need one. You’ve been here so often I’m sure you know it by heart.”
“Sorry, Christy. I don’t really have time to sit today. Can you put together a take-out order for me? Cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla shake?”
The waitress pouted prettily. “Aw, Jeff, you hardly ever stay to talk any more. You’re hurtin’ my feelings.”
Meanwhile, Zoe practically slid under the table to keep from being seen. She needn’t have bothered. Jeff took a stool at the counter while he waited for his order. Which put Zoe out of his line of sight, although Amanda could still watch the drama unfold.
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. The gallery is a big job and the owner wants it done in a hurry. I don’t have time to sit and be sociable.”
“I see.”
Christy spun on her heel and strutted over to the closest booth where she leaned over to put the filled sugar shaker against the wall. The maneuver hiked her skirt up a good three inches and Amanda thought they would all know if she wore bikinis or thongs. She watched Jeff to see his reaction, but he had already turned away to pay Anita at the register.
In another moment he was gone, the rumble of his bike fading as he rode away.
Zoe sat back up.
“I’ve never seen a less interested man,” Amanda reassured her. “Trust me, Zoe, Christy holds no strings on his heart. I think her hopes are based on fantasies.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I do, Zoe. Any man with even a passing interest would not have missed the show she just put on. He couldn’t have cared less. Come on, now, finish your breakfast.”
“All right.” Zoe picked up a strip of bacon and nibbled on it. “But I’m not leaving her a big tip.”
Amanda merely rolled her eyes. “How come you’re not working in the gallery today, anyway?”
“Wet floors. The second coat of polyurethane went down late yesterday. It’s not dry yet, so there’s nothing to do till we can walk on it.”
“It’s such a gorgeous day. You and Jeff should take the afternoon off and go for a ride somewhere.”
Zoe frowned. “I thought so too, but Jeff said he has a lot of things to do at the motel that he’s been neglecting to work at the gallery. He’s trying to catch up today.” She sighed. Since their passionate lovemaking Friday night he seemed to be doing his best to avoid her. She couldn’t help but think he was sending a message.
Looks like he’s a Lothario, after all. And I should have known better than to ignore my first impression.
Jeff parked his bike and retrieved the take-out for Jen from his saddlebag. As he opened the door to his studio he saw the door to Jen’s apartment click shut. Even though she should know it was him from the sound of his bike, she still wouldn’t take the chance of staying in the studio until she was sure he was alone.
“Bug, come on out, it’s only me.” He went to her door and opened the paper sack. “I’ve got lunch. Can I come in?”
“Hang on, I’ll be right out.”
A couple of blank spots on the walls caught his attention. Jen must have decided which paintings he should take to Zoe. Yep, three canvases stood stacked against his workbench. He looked them over, glad she had included his favorite. The cove they had visited weeks ago was vibrant with the colors of sunset and slender dune grasses bent in a breeze you could almost feel. A trio of gulls flew low across the water and a few rocks along th
e shoreline glistened wetly, highlighted by the late-afternoon sun. The work was so realistic Jeff seemed to smell the briny scent of the bay and hear the cry of the gulls.
“What do you think? I picked the ones I thought most people would like, not necessarily those I think are my best work.” Jen slid onto the stool by her easel and toyed with the brushes in a jar on a table nearby. “You don’t have—”
“To do this.” Jeff finished for her. “I know, Bug. This is a chance too good to pass up. I’m doing it. Don’t argue with me anymore.”
“Okay, I won’t.” She gestured toward the group of paintings. “Are you happy with these, then? Do you think you can carry off the forgery and answer whatever questions a potential buyer may have?”
“First, let me get Zoe to hang them. Then I’ll worry about potential buyers.”
He grimaced at the thought of talking to patrons when the gallery opened. His plan was to be available as little as possible—imitating a reclusive, quirky artist with no time for the public. If Zoe wasn’t interviewing each artist personally, he might have gotten away with portraying Jen like that and himself as her agent. But no way was Jen going to the gallery to talk to Zoe in person.
He pointed. “I’m glad you want this one to go. I think it’s one of your best. In fact, it’s the one I’m taking in first to impress Zoe. I’m sure she’ll like it.”
“Listen, Jeff, don’t get your hopes up too much.” Jen swiveled around to look directly at him, which showed how serious she was about their plans. “Sometimes it isn’t such a good idea for an artist to own a gallery.” She bit at her lower lip. “It’s harder to be impartial and accept work that is very different from your own. And”—another hesitation—“she may not want something she’ll view as competition.”
He’d already seen some of Zoe’s own work. She painted fantasy landscapes, almost lyrical in their beautiful use of color and form. Trees and plants nowhere to be found on Earth grew in forest glades populated with unicorns and dragons. And waterfalls, from mere trickles to tumultuous cascades, graced several of her canvases. Occasionally there would be several moons in the sky, even in daylight, or rings like Saturn’s arcing overhead. She’d also done some portraits of warriors, male and female, dressed in leathers and armor too beautiful to be worn into battle. Her style was very different from Bug’s but he hoped she could see the beauty in the everyday scenes his sister brought to life.
“Zoe’s not like that, Bug. For weeks she’s been meeting other artisans, evaluating their work and offering to display whatever she thinks is up to a certain professional standard. She’s including everything from modern metal sculptures to tiny porcelain oil lamps shaped like sea urchins. Paintings from modern to medieval and everything in-between. I think she’s pretty impartial.”
“You also think she’s pretty wonderful, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah, I think she’s a smart, hard-working, lady who’s willing to put it all on the line for what she believes in.”
“Wow, you’ve really got it bad, don’t you, brother-mine?”
“I don’t have it—”
“Oh stop. I can tell by the look on your face when you talk about her that you’re completely enamored. I’m just sorry I can’t meet her myself.”
“You think you know everything, Bug. But believe me—”
She interrupted him again. “I don’t know everything, Jeff. But I sure as heck know you, maybe even better than you know you. So I really hope our charade doesn’t ruin everything you’ve got going with Ms. Silvercreek. That would break my heart, as well as yours.”
“You know, it’s exhausting having a smartass for a sister.” Jeff sighed heavily.
“I imagine so,” Jen agreed and shrugged, “but you’re stuck with me, so make the best of it. Take my advice. It’s a beautiful fall day. Probably the last one before it gets too cold to go joyriding on a motorcycle. So go back to the gallery and sweet-talk your boss into taking a ride. When you get back you can show her the painting and, who knows?, maybe we’ll both get lucky.” She raised a brow. “And I mean that in the broadest possible terms.”
Jeff closed his eyes briefly and blew out a long breath. Then he dropped the bag of take-out in Jen’s lap and began wrapping the painting. It would be tricky carrying it on his bike but for once he’d go slow and avoid tight corners.
Jen took the paper sack to her room and called back through the doorway, “Don’t worry about dinner for me after all this food. I won’t worry if you’re late getting home tonight, so you won’t need to call.”
He heard his sister’s sly chuckle. No matter how much he loved his little sister, there were times when he wanted to throttle her.
Jeff let himself in the back door and made plenty of noise going up the stairs to Zoe’s apartment. He stashed the painting in the storage area then knocked on her door. He’d put the peephole at eye level for her, which meant he had to stoop so his face would be visible instead of his chest when she looked out. He heard the deadbolt slide back. Good, she used it as he hoped she would.
“Hi,” he called before she even opened the door, “I’m selling magazine subscriptions to pay my way through bar-tending school. Would you be interested in a year’s—”
“Get in here, you idiot.” She cut him off and swung the door wide. “What brings you here? I thought you had stuff to do over at your place today.”
“I did. But I finished sooner than I expected and, since it is such a nice day, I thought you might like to go for a ride with me.” He presented her with a helmet he’d kept hidden behind his back. “On my bike.”
“I’ve never actually been on a motorcycle before. I’m not sure . . .”
“It’ll be a piece of cake, Zoe. All you have to do is sit behind me and hang on. I’ll do all the rest. After a few minutes you’ll see how much fun it is.”
She still looked less than enthused.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Trust me, sweet cheeks, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
He wanted to lean down and kiss her, but the last time they kissed it started a conflagration he still hadn’t recovered from. Until he got the okay to show “his” paintings at the gallery, he had to play it cool. Otherwise she’d think he used unfair tactics.
“Tell you what. We’ll do one spin around the town square and if you don’t like it, we’ll quit. What do you say?”
She took a deep breath. “Okay. One spin around the green. I can handle that much.”
“Put a warm jacket on. It’s cool out there.”
Down at his bike, Jeff showed her where to put her feet. You can hold on back here or”—he winked—“you can hang on to me.”
Once she was settled behind him, he started the bike. She immediately slid her arms around his waist and plastered herself against his back. There was a lot to be said for riding double.
He took it easy around the square and stopped back at the gallery. Her grip already looser, she shouted, “Hey, this is fun. More, please, but don’t do anything scary.”
He put his hand over hers and made a fist. “Any time you’ve had enough, just bang on my chest and I’ll pull over.” He demonstrated and felt her nod against his back. “Okay, here we go.”
The cool nights had turned the leaves into a riot of oranges and reds and the bright sunshine seemed to amplify the colors and keep the wind from feeling too chilly. The damp scent of already fallen leaves mixed with the salty tang off the bay to make a unique blend of autumn perfume.
He took her to the same cove he had taken Jen on their last outing, happy to find it empty of people. He parked and took off his helmet, then helped her off with hers. Her cheeks were apple-stained, her eyes sparkled, and the wind-tossed mass of silken tresses that slid down her back gave her the look of a woman well-bedded. How in hell was he going to keep his hands off her?
“I can’t believe I’ve missed doing this all my life.” She leaned up and kissed him lightly. “Thank you for introducing me to the joys of bike riding.”
“My pleasure.” He held her close for another kiss, then released her as his alarm bells went off. The feel of her pressed against his back had been sweet torture the entire trip and he wanted to lay her down in the bright sunshine and with a few strokes have her gasping his name.
Luckily she walked toward the water and he followed, trying to keep his erection from escalating any further. Maybe he’d have to take a dip in the cold Chesapeake, but just the thought of the chilling fifty degree water was enough to bring back some control.
They explored the shoreline together for a while but the October days were shortening and as the sun slid toward the bay, the breeze off the water got steadily colder.
“We’d better head back. It’ll be dark soon.”
Zoe took his hand as they walked back to the bike. “What a wonderful afternoon. Thanks for bringing me here, Jeff. I hope we can come back again sometime.”
“Count on it, sweet cheeks.” Alarm bells or no, he couldn’t resist capturing her lips one more time.
It was almost dark by the time they got back to the gallery. When she handed him his helmet, she looked up from under her lashes and smiled wickedly. “I don’t suppose you might want to stay for dinner?”
“If you’re sure you have enough?”
She laughed. “I may not but I’m sure Chang Lee does. Will Chinese be okay?”
“Sure.” He followed her up the stairs. “I’ve been wanting to ask you a favor, Zoe, and I guess this is as good a time as any.”
She looked over her shoulder as she unlocked the door. “Oh my, this sounds serious.”
His By Design Page 11
