Til There Was U

by Dianne Castell

  Ryan gazed out on the water. “Trouble is, after all this crap we’re still no closer to finding Mimi than before.”

  Rory stood beside him. “And now whoever’s after her knows we’re on to them, and they know Bonnie’s mine and Mimi’s and not yours.”

  ———

  Ryan sat in his dad’s favorite leather wing chair, alone in the dark living room. The grandfather clock in the hall chimed three times; the low moan of a river tow drifted over the cliffs and across the dewy grass. He gazed out the open double doors that led onto the front porch. He’d opened them, needing fresh air, humidity and all, instead of the chilled recycled stuff.

  The summer curtains stirred, then floated like ghosts on gentle puffs of the night breeze. He swirled expensive brandy in a crystal snifter, the warm, sweet aroma filling his head, easing the tension that had eaten at him for hours.

  “Since when do you drink brandy, Ryan O’Fallon,” came Effie’s soft voice from the entrance.

  “Since you scared the living hell out of me tonight and I needed time and a slow drink to unwind.” He looked up, not all that surprised to see her there. They hummed on the same wavelength, connected on some level that defied description, and not just as architects or working partners, but something more, much closer, far more intimate.

  “You looked pretty cool to me.”

  “Thanks to a swim in the Mississippi.” A dim light from the kitchen spilled into the hall, framing her silhouette in the doorway. Tall, long, loose hair billowed around her shoulders, shirt falling mid thigh . . . and nothing else.

  His insides stirred at the sight; desire to have her right then made him hard.

  “Thanks for coming after us.”

  “You did good tonight, Effie Wilson.”

  “We did good.” She came toward him. “And now you’re keeping watch to make sure the evildoers don’t return.”

  “And enjoying Dad’s brandy. Haven’t had it in years, but tonight, for some reason ...”

  “Did I really scare the hell out of you?”

  His gaze fused with hers through the dimness. “What do you think?”

  “When it comes to us, Ryan, I swear I don’t know what to think, especially since we got to the Landing. And now we’re leaving. Thelma’s safe from Conrad, least as safe as she wants to be.” Effie straddled his outstretched legs, her ankles to his. “And everyone knows Bonnie is Rory’s and not yours. There’s no real reason for us to stay.”

  “And you’re here now because . . .”

  She took a step closer, her knees now caging his thighs. “Guess.”

  The warmth of her skin penetrated through his jeans, the sexy vee between her bare legs disappearing under the soft denim of the shirt... his shirt. She slipped the snifter from his fingers, cradling it in her palm.

  “If you’ve never had Napoleon Cognac before, I wouldn’t advise starting now. It’s potent.”

  “I’m in the mood for . . . potent.” She gave Ryan a wicked smile that made it difficult to breathe. Then she tipped the glass, and her soft pink tongue licked the contents.

  “Oh, sugar,” he exhaled.

  The bouquet of brandy mixed with a whiff of river and the scent of a woman, this woman.

  She put the glass on the table and leaned over, framing his face in her soft palms, the shirt gaping, giving him full view of her sweet body.

  “Make love to me, Ryan,” she breathed in a sultry voice, smooth as the cognac in the glass. “One last time.”

  Chapter 18

  Effie kissed Ryan, the taste of brandy on her smooth lips and silky tongue. He whispered against her mouth, “I need to keep watch. It’s been an unusual night.”

  “And it’s not over.” Her lips smiled against his, making him smile, too. “And who said anything about leaving here?”

  She straightened and crossed her arms over her chest, then whisked off the shirt and dropped it to the floor, leaving her naked as the day she was born . . . though she sure as hell didn’t have that body then.

  “What if someone comes in?”

  “Everyone’s dead to the world.” She put her hands to her slender hips and smiled. She nodded at his crotch. “Well, not everyone.”

  The faint moonlight fell across her firm breasts, her nipples beaded with passion. She knelt on the cushion, his thighs between her knees, then sat on his lap. Her hot sex nestled his dick through his jeans, making his heart hammer and the temperature in the room rise ten degrees.

  “Effie.”

  “Ryan, it’s so hot in here. Terrible hot.” She took the snifter from the table and dipped her finger in the brandy. She dragged it across her top lip, outlining the fullness, then the bottom, pulling gently at the soft flesh, exposing her warm inviting mouth.

  He swallowed, least he tried to.

  She dipped her finger again and trailed the liquor down her throat, then between her breasts. She slipped the tip of her finger in her mouth, slowly pulled it out and licked it. “Would you like some . . . brandy?”

  A puff of air stirred through the room and played in her hair. He watched her for a moment, not wanting to break the spell that saturated the room. “I can’t get enough of you.” He wound his fingers into her golden hair and brought her face to his and kissed her, the taste of brandy on her moist lips an incredible aphrodisiac. “If we sat here all night, I’d still feel that way.” This time his voice sounded throaty and rough.

  He kissed her neck, and she trembled ... or was that him? He added more kisses, taking his time, savoring the taste of fine liquor mingled with Effie’s own distinct essence. No elixir, no potion, more seductive.

  Holding onto his shoulders, her head arched back, she offered him her delectable breasts and swollen pink peaks. He licked her cleavage, then her left nipple, the nub a morsel of pure heaven against his tongue. Her breaths quickened, and her fingertips pressed hard as he took her right breast and slipped his finger into her silky, slippery heat.

  She shivered. “You feel so good, but I want you in me, Ryan. Us giving each other pleasure.”

  His finger probed a bit deeper, and her face turned to his. Her eyes clouded, her breaths were erratic.

  “Just looking at you like this, wanting me as much as I want you, gives me more pleasure than you can imagine.” He gently, reluctantly, withdrew his fingers then leaned forward and tumbled them onto the Oriental carpet, breaking their fall with his left hand as he held her with his right. They landed in a soft thump, him on top, her under, their legs intertwined.

  She smiled. “Hope we didn’t wake anyone.”

  “If we did, they’re in for one hell of a show.” He knelt over her, a leg on each side, taking in the sight of Effie, his body throbbing with desire. He yanked off his shirt and tossed it beside the one she’d worn. He took a condom from his back pocket, opened his jeans and made himself ready for her.

  “You’re perfect.” Then he slid into her, going slow, taking his time to remember the feel of Effie under him, around him, making love to him like no one else ever had before.

  Effie wrapped her legs around Ryan, his sweaty, bare back against the inside of her calves, and then the inside of her thighs as he thrust deeper. She arched her back, giving more, the feel of him inside her a bitter-sweet paradise, knowing she’d never get this chance to make love with Ryan again.

  And, she realized, that’s exactly what it was ... love. She loved Ryan O’Fallon with all her heart.

  He whispered in her ear, saying she was wonderful, incredible, lovely beyond words. And then he climaxed just as she did, and for a moment she felt as if they were united, one in spirit and body. She held him tight even after their releases, not ready to let him go as they lay together, the hall clock ticking out the fleeting minutes.

  Ryan stirred, then raised his head and braced himself on his elbows. He grinned. “Dear God, you’re terrific.”

  “You taught me . .. everything, Ryan.”

  “What you did to me ... for me ... tonight was all you, sugar. You s
hould write a book. Be a best-seller in no time. You’ll have to use a pseudonym, of course. Shoot your career to hell and back if you don’t. Maybe when we get back to California.”

  Her insides froze. California. San Diego. Going . .. home, the end of.. . everything. “Maybe we should stay here for a while and help Rory out. Make sure everything’s all right before we take off.”

  Ryan’s brows arched. “Pilates, your laundry, Wally. Besides, Dad can take it from here. Demar’s on the job, and Keefe’s coming in. We need to get back to work, iron out the kinks for the mall before we call in the contractors.”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “I’m going to clean up. Be back in a minute.”

  He left, but she didn’t move. She stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the mall, her job, San Diego and her life there. What life! Somehow it all seemed so far away, and not just in mileage but...

  She felt Ryan’s footsteps on the wood floor and sat up as he parked beside her. “You’re not talking. What’s up? Something wrong?”

  She raked her hair, lifting it at the nape to cool off against the summer heat and Ryan. Just being near the man made her hot all over. But making love made her... sizzle. “Everything’s fine. Too fine ... maybe.” She looked at Ryan. “I’m not going back to California. I’m staying here.”

  The words just spilled out by themselves in a big rush, surprising her almost as much as him. Except to her they felt right. From the look on Ryan’s face she could have told him she designed flying broomsticks for a living and he wouldn’t have been more astounded.

  His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He craned his neck toward her. “What did you say?”

  “I’m not going back to California.”

  “You must have whacked your head when you fell out of that chair. Take a couple deep breaths and think, ‘There’s no place like home.’”

  “You’re right and I feel more at home here.”

  “This was just a break in the action, well, sort of because we had the mall to deal with and guys chasing you and the Conrad chronicles. But now it’s over. Your whole life’s in California. Parents, work, friends. Hell, two weeks ago you weren’t sure how many s’s were in Mississippi and couldn’t find Tennessee on the map.”

  She picked up Bonnie’s bunny rattle from the floor and shook it, then smiled, thinking of the baby. “I don’t really like who I am in San Diego. I don’t want to go back to that person.”

  “Sure had me fooled. You looked real comfortable at Designs Unlimited.”

  “I’m a robot, doing what I’m supposed to be doing, going through the motions of living a life I thought I wanted because that’s what I knew. But I came here, remembered another life I once had when I was a little kid, and I like it.”

  “You want to make mud pies and run around barefoot?”

  She held out her hands. “For the first time in a long time I think I know who I am. I’m happy here, really happy.”

  “Trust me, Effie. If you get the corner office and partner, you’ll be beyond happy. You love being an architect. You couldn’t be as good as you are at it and not love it.”

  He took her hands in his. “We’ll be nominated for some terrific awards if this mall turns out half as well as I think it will.”

  She smiled. “Won’t that be great?”

  “Then why the hell are you leaving the firm?” He gave her a squinty-eyed look. “Is this some woman thing you’re going through?”

  She gave him a squinty-eyed look in return, and he held up his hands. “Okay, okay. It’s not a woman thing. But where is this all coming from? This isn’t even your home.”

  “It could be.”

  “Come back and visit. This is a great place to visit.”

  “How about I visit California and live here. The mall plans are done. I’ll make you a deal. You can have all the credit for the mall if you clean out my office and send me Wally. My parents aren’t really cat people unless you count that little medallion that sits on front of their Jaguar. I’ll come back in a month or so to sell the condo and straighten things out with my family.”

  He looked totally bewildered. Handsome went well with bewildered on Ryan O’Fallon, gave him a vulnerable quality that made her love him even more. Yeah, that’s just what she needed!

  He asked, “What the hell are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m figuring this out as I go. For the first time in my life I don’t have a five-year plan. Heck, I don’t have a five-day plan. Since Demar’s really not a contractor maybe I can cook something up with Slim. Sally knows the business angle.”

  “You’re certifiably nuts.”

  “I don’t think Designs Unlimited will care about me not giving them a two-week notice. They have you and the plans, and I’m only a phone call or e-mail away.”

  “What about us?”

  She stared at him, her chest tight, not enough oxygen in the room. “When we get back to San Diego everything changes, we both know that. We really don’t even like each other very much back in San Diego.”

  She slipped on her shirt, stood and walked to the sideboard. She took a sip of the brandy, hoping it would chase away the sudden chill that had replaced the fire blazing between her and Ryan minutes ago. “You’re all business in San Diego and have your harem for diversion. I’m all uptight and fretting over my hair not being just right or my suit having a speck of lint or if I should take pilates or yoga or have my nails done. I’m not the same person in San Diego, and neither are you. We do okay here.”

  “Okay?”

  She turned and held the glass up in salute. “We do great, flipping terrific. The problem is you wouldn’t be happy staying at the Landing, and I get that. Your dream’s in California. You have to go.”

  He stood and came to her, stopping a few feet away. “We do a lot of competing, but when it comes down to it we’re a team, you and me. Your strong suit is design; mine’s the infrastructure.”

  “Your success never hinged on me. We only started working together eighteen months ago with the mall project, and you were well on your way to partner before that. I know from personal experience there’s a ten o’clock flight out of Memphis. You’ll be back in San Diego tomorrow, and your whole world will fall back into place and be better than ever. Women will probably line up at the airport, form a motorcade. I’ll UPS back the office equipment.”

  She came to him, tiptoed and kissed him lightly on the lips, already feeling him slipping away. She turned for the hallway, not trusting herself to keep her cool with tears so close. “Thanks for bringing me home, Ryan O’Fallon.”

  “This isn’t your home, dammit.”

  The stairs squeaked, and footsteps sounded. Rory shuffled into the living room, shotgun over his shoulder militia style. “What the hell’s going on down here?”

  He looked from one to the other. “Hasn’t this been a long enough day? Why don’t you two just go find a bed somewhere and leave me in peace?”

  Ryan snagged his shirt from the floor. “That’s not happening any time soon. Effie’s staying on, ditching an incredible career for the shores of the Mississippi.”

  Rory yawned. “And what about you?”

  Ryan met his dad’s gaze across the dark room. “This isn’t where I belong, you know that.”

  “What I know is this is your home, boy, always was, always will be. But if you think you’ll be happy as a pig in mud back in San Diego, then go and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out. Kids!”

  He turned to Effie. “Least I managed to hold onto one of you. The other?” Rory nodded at Ryan. “Hell’s bells. He’s smart as a whip and a damn fine architect, but if he goes and leaves you here, in my book he’s got shit for brains.”

  ———

  Ryan added the mug with Architects Know All the Angles to the box filled with personal stuff from his office. He picked it up and hauled this last load down the hallway to his new corner office and plopped the box on the mahogany desk. He looked out the
window that faced the pristine courtyard fountain of the office complex.

  Okay, this was it! He’d arrived! It took only three weeks after he—make that he and Effie—submitted the plans for the mall. The client went ape-shit over the specs and wanted Ryan to redesign two more malls. That kind of revenue for Designs Unlimited made him an immediate shoe-in for partner. A success he’d dreamed about since he started snapping Legos together when he was a kid.

  He took in the contemporary office furnishings. All new. He’d picked out the sleek desk, bookshelves, chairs, lamps ... everything. He waited for the feeling of supreme accomplishment to rush through him ... except it didn’t, least not like he thought it would. It sort of crept through him at a snail’s pace.

  He wasn’t expecting the Alleluia chorus and angels to appear and do whatever angels do, but there had to be something more than a damn snail.

  “Mr. O’Fallon,” a woman’s voice came from the open door. It was the senior partner’s private secretary. “Mr. Delroy and Ms. Compton would like for you to meet them for dinner tonight at Mille Fleurs at eight.” She smiled knowingly. “I’m thinking congratulations are in order.”

  “Because they ...”

  “The partners voted this morning. Your name will be added to the letterhead next week.” She smiled sweetly. “Course, you didn’t hear that from me. Have a wonderful dinner.” She closed the door behind her as she left.

  Mille Fleurs. Ryan sat on the edge of his desk. Probably the most expensive restaurant in the country, and he knew that’s where the seniors would take him for dinner if he made partner. He’d dreamed of this moment, down to the details of what he’d order—salmon tartare with Wassabi caviar and crème fraiche.

  He smiled as he started to unpack his items, feeling more euphoric than a few minutes ago. He couldn’t get excited before because it all hadn’t been finalized yet. That was it. That’s why no angels sang and he got the snail treatment. But now... Hell, now he was deliriously happy, right!