I’ll Be Seeing U

by Dianne Castell

  “But honey…”

  “Shhh, no honey. I’ve got work to do here. Go away and do not sneak back in here, do you understand?” She closed the door, leaving the man pouting. He slinked his way down the driveway, keeping to the shadows. A car started in the distance, then faded away. What the hell was that all about? Who was that guy and what was he doing in the house so late? A friend of the sisters? Ministry work nuns in skimpy pjs?

  This was another reason why he needed to talk to Cynthia tonight. But the main reason, the most painful one, was right between his legs and hard as stone—which made climbing a real bitch. He continued on to the second floor till…till he heard an ominous cracking sound and this time it wasn’t Sarabeth’s father cocking a shotgun aimed at his butt, but it was definitely an oh shit moment.

  The slat under his right foot sagged, then cracked clear through. He struggled to get his foot onto another slat but it snapped too. He grabbed tight to steady himself, but pulled the next board clean off the side of the house. He teetered backwards, swallowed a string of curse words, fought the air, lost, then fell back, landing in the bushes. Ouch!

  The window flew open, followed by the screen, and Cynthia stuck her head out, his gaze meeting hers. “What in the world are you doing, O’Fallon?”

  “Convincing you that Lawrence needs to stay here?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you break anything?”

  “I think I killed your rhododendron.”

  “Not that, I mean…Oh, for heaven’s sake. Don’t move, I’ll be right down.”

  He sat up, waiting for all the bones in his spine to shift back into place and for his head to reposition itself straight on his neck. Cynthia stood over him, the faint light from inside shining through her nightgown, giving him a terrific silhouetted view of underneath. It made nearly breaking his damn-fool neck worth it.

  “You could have broken your damn-fool neck.”

  Great minds think alike. “Did you know there was a strange man in your house?”

  “You’ll have to be more specific. It’s getting kind of crowded.” She peered at him. “And I’m not up to arguing about Lawrence at two A.M.”

  “Fine, no arguing, but do you really think uprooting him again is the answer?”

  “Getting the heck beat out of him is?” She sat down beside him and pulled her legs up under her gown, resting her chin on her knees. She let out a big sigh.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  “To tell you the truth, sometimes I don’t know if I’m doing anything right. Raising kids is not easy. No directions on the heel.”

  He draped his arm around her. “Honey, Lawrence is a really great kid, and he’s going to continue to be that way no matter where he is. Just think what it was like to try and raise someone like me.”

  She gave him a soft smile and touched his cheek, the simple gesture unexpected and warming him clear through. “Rory O’Fallon did have his hands full. Three sons…how does anyone handle three sons? The man deserves a medal.”

  Quaid leaned back on is elbows and studied her. “Damn, I like looking at you.”

  “I think you fell on your head. I’m in my ratty nightgown, no makeup, and my hair still needs a dye job. Joan Rivers would not approve. We need to get out of the bushes, we’re giving the place a bad name.” She held out her hand and he took it, then snagged her around the waist, fell back and tumbled her on top of him. “I like this even more than looking at you.”

  With no bra to get in the way, the soft mounds of her breasts swelled against his chest.

  “No sex, remember?” she said against his lips, her voice barely a murmur. Her eyes shifted from one side to the other as if suddenly aware of her surroundings. “Dear Lord, what are we doing?”

  “Hiding so the fates won’t see us. Hell, no one can see us. Makes the curse null and void. Can’t curse what can’t be seen, right? I got an idea.”

  “And why do I have the feeling it involves me and sex?”

  “Because it’s a really good idea and both of those things would be in any really good idea of mine. So, we fool around and find out what happens. If things go right to hell, we got our answer.”

  “And if they don’t, we can continue to fool around in hiding places and we’re okay?”

  “There is that.”

  She punched his arm. “We already got involved at your office on the docks and my life started a new downward spiral. We broke it off and things straightened out. There, we have our answer.”

  “But we need to make absolutely sure it’s not coincidence.” He winked. “Whaddaya say?”

  She closed her eyes and put her face to his, eye to eye, nose to nose, lips to lips. “I say I want you so bad I can’t sleep.”

  “This is a good start.”

  She licked her lips and in the process licked his lips as well. “Maybe…maybe fooling around is the answer. What I mean is, that way we’re simply into mutual gratification, period. No getting involved.”

  “Too late. I’m crazy about you, Cynthia Landon, and it’s not diminishing because of some curse or disagreement over Lawrence, or that I’m the street kid or you’re the local princess, or anything else you can throw in the mix.”

  “Shh.” She put her finger to his lips, her eyes dark and lovely and full of passion. God, he loved her eyes like that. “Too much talk,” she whispered as she sat up, a sliver of moonlight falling into her hair, making it shimmer like spun glass. She slipped up his shirt and looked her fill, then gently rubbed her sweet hands over his abs and across his chest, her touch making his muscles quiver and his brain melt. “You are a banquet of pure maleness.” She grinned. “I heard that on a commercial somewhere and always wanted to use it but never had the chance. You are definitely the chance I’ve been waiting for.”

  She planted a row of kisses from his navel to his chin, each touch of her lips searing his skin. “You are one delicious man. Are you comfy?”

  “If I was any harder for you I’d rupture something. But damn, girl, I can’t imagine a better place on earth right now.”

  “I mean, are there sticks jabbing your back? Bugs? I hate bugs. Crickets are great to listen to, but I do not want to look at one. Yuck. So, are you okay where you are?”

  He took two handfuls of her nightgown. “I will be real soon.”

  “Wait.” She bit her bottom lip and held the gown down. “I’m…forty, you have to remember that.”

  “This is another birthday warning, isn’t it? Between the birthdays and the curse you’ve got a regular litany going. I don’t care how old you are, and I got to tell you, this is really strange foreplay. We can do a whole lot better. Just give me a chance.”

  “I’m starting to…to sag a bit.”

  “I can tell this is an issue and we’re never getting to the good stuff till it’s resolved. Okay, so let me see, strictly a clinical analysis, I swear. I’ll give you my most honest opinion.”

  “Oh that is such a line of crap, you just want my gown off. But the thing is, maybe I should have a boob job.”

  “You already did, you got rid of Aaron.” She laughed and he used the opportunity to lift the nightgown, revealing the gentle indent of her navel, her smooth midriff, then the lush roundness of her sweet perfect breasts. He dropped the gown beside him then cradled one breast in each palm, looking his fill, because he was supposed to and this was a great opportunity. “I pronounce you perfect.”

  “Spoken like a man with a naked woman sitting in front of him.”

  “Shhh.” This time he put his finger across her lips. “You really are perfect, Cynthia. I said I’d give you an honest opinion and I am. But the direction of your breasts doesn’t matter.”

  “You can say that because they’re not your breasts. Just wait, you’ll be forty some day and…and you’ll still be handsome as ever. Men do forty so much better than women and that bites. How could Mother Nature do that to one of her own kind?”

  “Forty’s just
a number. What matters is that you love Lawrence, take care of Ida, are willing to help Sally, and that you drive a really ugly car but it doesn’t bother you. I admire you, and not just the part I can see…though that’s pretty damn good.”

  He trailed his index finger up her middle and she took his hand, looked at it for a moment, then placed a soft kiss in his palm. Her eyes went black as a Mississippi squall. “This is just sex, Quaid, nothing more.”

  “Your words, sweetheart, not mine.”

  “That will have to do because I don’t think I can leave right now, no matter how many curses are after me.” Then she unbuckled and unzipped his jeans.

  Chapter 9

  Cynthia smiled down at him, a wicked sexy glint in her eyes. She took his erection in her hand, then let out an erotic breath as she traced her finger up one side of him, pausing at the tip to drive him insane, then slowly down the other side. “I love feeling you all hard for me.”

  “When you’re around that’s the condition I’m usually in.”

  “Really?”

  “Damn uncomfortable and potentially embarrassing as hell.” He smiled. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” He fondled her breast, appreciating her warm naked flesh against his palm, her areolas dark, and nipples taut with desire…desire for him. Her thumb stroked his arousal, his blood pumping harder and faster.

  “You are so much a man,” she whispered into the still night. Then she leaned over and took his erection deep into her mouth.

  For a second he couldn’t see, the intimate unexpected connection catching him off guard. His brain fried as her tongue licked the path her fingers had taken before. Her warm moist mouth took him deeper and he curled his fingers into her thick flowing hair that spilled down around his groin. Every cell of his body screamed to have her right now. His control ebbed; excitement twisted his gut. “I can’t keep this up.”

  She straightened and glanced down at his dick. “Doesn’t look to me like you’re having any trouble keeping it up.”

  “I’m dying here and I have a naked comedian on my lap.” He shifted to one side and slid his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out a condom.

  She snapped the package from his fingers. “You’re mine, all mine right now, Quaid,” she growled, then tore open the package with her teeth. She unrolled the latex, her fingers on him in exquisite torture. She winked. “Now you’re dressed for success, I think. It’s hard to see.”

  “Got the hard part right.” He snagged her hips and pulled her forward, her wet heat now over his rock-hard cock, her legs wide and straddling him.

  “Oh, I think I like this,” she said on a ragged breath as she ran her fingers through her hair, scattering it in all directions, free and sassy and sexy. “You do make me feel like a woman, more than I’ve felt in my entire life. No fancy clothes or makeup or strappy shoes make me feel the way you do.”

  She leaned forward and braced her hands on either side of his head, her breasts suspended close to his mouth, her face right over his, her hair tumbling around them, shutting out the rest of the world. “I think I like being a little naughty in the bushes with you. And I really like being in control.”

  “I’ll remember that.” He took a nipple into his mouth and she pulled in a deep breath then lifted her hips, freeing his dick from the warm cocoon. She lowered her wet open sex onto him. The sensation of sliding into Cynthia nearly reduced him to ashes.

  She panted, her hot breath fast and shallow against his forehead. “Every time we do this I swear it won’t happen again…except…except you feel so good, Quaid,” she said on a groan of pure pleasure then arched her hips, taking him all the way in, then out.

  He looked up, her eyes liquid, her rhythm increasing, hard even strokes fast and deep. His heart pounded, his chest too tight. Then she gasped, her muscles clenching around his dick. He brought her face to his and took her cries of climax into his mouth while pumping into her again and again, reaching his own climax, his insides on fire, his head reeling, obliterating any thoughts but being with Cynthia.

  She collapsed on top of him, knocking what air was left in his lungs right out. “Oh, Quaid,” she said in one long breath of resignation. “I am so going to get it now.”

  He kissed her damp hair. “Okay, but you have to give me a few minutes to recoup.”

  Her teeth nipped his chest and he suddenly wanted her again no matter how exhausted he was at the moment. He always wanted her again.

  “Not that, the curse. If this little rendezvous doesn’t bring on bad karma nothing will.”

  “And if it does I’ll take care of whatever it is.”

  She shook her head, her soft cheek rubbing against his heated skin. “No way. I need to stand on my own this time, do things my own way. The sex is great and I thank you for that but—”

  “You’re thanking me for having sex with you? Like in servicing your needs?”

  “Try and understand, I have to straighten out my own life. Maybe I’ll hang garlic around my neck for the next few days and ward off any bad stuff lurking about.”

  He tucked his finger under her chin to make her look at him. “I’m better at handling problems than garlic, Cynthia. Trust me.”

  She pushed herself up and retrieved her gown, sliding it on. “You think you have to save the world, especially me, but you don’t. I’m doing okay, for the moment.”

  “I know. And I respect that. But if things go south—call me.”

  “And who do you call when things go south, Quaid O’Fallon? Me? I’ll believe that when it happens.”

  She sat up. “Things are good right now. I’m designing a mother-of-the bride dress for Lydia Clampton—her daughter’s getting married in November. Seems there’s an abundance of really dumpy mother-of-the-bride and mother-of-the-groom dresses out there. Maybe this is my niche?”

  “I can invest in your company and—”

  “No. I’m doing this on my own—whatever this turns out to be.” She rolled off him. “Good night, Quaid.” She gazed down at him. “Sleep tight…but not in my bushes.”

  Quaid brushed his teeth with enough force to strip enamel. Sleep tight? Wasn’t that what Cynthia said to him last night? She was the most hard-headed female he’d ever met. He could help her, dammit. Make things easier for her. But would she let him? Hell no! He cared for her, blast it all, so how was he supposed to sit back and let her fend for herself?

  He stopped brushing. Then again, maybe all this independent talk about doing things herself was just a trumped up excuse to distance herself from him. They never really resolved that issue, and the only times they got together were for sex.

  That was it. All this crap about a curse really was a front for fooling around and not getting involved. She enjoyed the sex, just not him. It had to be, no one believed in curses—did they? Well, fine. He’d gotten over women before, he’d damn well get over her. No more sex, no more Cynthia.

  She’d have to deal and so would he. He yanked on his jeans and T-shirt, opened the bathroom door and faced…“Ryan? Holy hell, man! When did you get home?” He grabbed his younger brother in a bear hug, nearly lifting him off the floor. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

  “We got in about an hour ago.”

  “We?”

  Ryan grinned. “Effie, the Wilson part of O’Fallon and Wilson, Architects L.L.C. Effie’s already out looking at the sites for the new homes going up along the river’s edge overlooking the Mississippi. I think she’s really picking out one for us.”

  “I can’t believe you’re really moving back from San Diego. At one time all you wanted was to get the hell out of here.”

  “Things change, like you giving up the Coast Guard.” They exchanged looks that said they both understood why they were here. “Have you found out anything on Mimi? The longer this goes on the more dangerous for her and Rory, and especially for Bonnie. Is Mimi—”

  “Let’s take a walk down by the docks.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve got some paperwork
that needs to get done. And you can look it over.” He started down the stairs. “I could use your advice.” Ryan followed him out the front door, Max trotting beside them, till Quaid stopped under the oaks. A morning breeze stirred, an egret swooped low over the river, and Max plopped down in the cool grass, doing a doggie roll. Ryan said, “Okay, what the hell’s going on? My advice on the tow business? That’s your baby.”

  “Rory thinks the house could be bugged. The guys after Mimi are desperate to find her. Anything important we take outside. Some things we don’t discuss at all, too risky. Listening devices are small and powerful these days. I think it’s all getting to Rory. He’s…gone a lot.”

  “Is Thelma still having…plumbing problems? I heard about that.”

  “It keeps Rory occupied. You should visit Thelma. See what’s changed since you were last here.” Quaid grinned. “I’m damn glad you showed up. You can help me keep an eye on things.”

  Ryan stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets and leaned back on his heels. “And who’s keeping an eye on you? Looks like you’ve been in one fight recently and then there’s Cynthia Landon. Rory thinks she’s going to break your heart and stomp it flat.”

  “Don’t know who gossips more around here, Dad or Sally, but there’s nothing to worry about, no broken hearts or bones. Cynthia’s made it clear she wants no men in her life, but I think that mostly means me and my reputation. She is Cynthia Landon and…”

  “And you’re an O’Fallon clear through, and screw the reputation thing. We’re a family, a terrific family, and Cynthia’s got nothing on you. If you like her, go after her, but if she’s still the stuck-up snob from years ago that I remember, you can do much better.”

  “I don’t know about the better part, but we sure aren’t a match made in heaven. She’s a New York designer, reads Vogue and drinks beer with her little finger extended. I do T-shirts, jeans and read Field and Stream and—”

  “Cynthia Landon drinks beer?” Ryan arched his brow. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He put his hand on Quaid’s shoulder. “The Cynthia Landon of back when would never have done that. Guess there’s still hope for her. Here’s the way it is. You two are the most mismatched couple on the planet, next to me and Effie, of course, or maybe Keefe and Callie. How’d a soap star and a reporter ever get together? Then there’s the real champs of total opposites, Dad and Mimi—fifty-two and thirty-eight and they have a baby to really complicate the hell out of life. In my opinion, this opposite thing runs in the family.”