Unnatural Calamities

by Summer Devon

  “All this talk of exams gives me a good idea,” he said. “It’s Saturday, isn’t it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where’s Rachel?”

  “She’s sleeping over at her friend Diana’s house.”

  “I thought so. Cynthia said Diana’s having a big slumber party. Let’s have one too, Janey, a small slumber party. Come with me. Or we can stay here. Come on. Let’s sleep together. Do you remember when you said you might only be interested in me because of the bizarre circumstances?”

  “I kind of remember this.”

  “You called yourself a sick cookie.” He leaned over and lightly encircled her ankle with one hand.

  “Okay. Now I remember.”

  The thumb grazed across her ankle bone, creating heavy warmth right up to the back of her knee. “Right, so let’s have a test. We’ll make it as normal as possible. Mr. and Mrs. Average at home. Without the kids. If I can turn you on then you have to seriously consider my marriage proposal.” The strong hand let go of her ankle and rubbed along her calf.

  “Toph, marriage is more than a good time in bed.”

  “Yes, Dr. Janey, I know that.” The stroke of his fingers created more heat that shot right through her whole body. “But it’s a start. Plus we might get to make love again if you agree, and that’s my idea of a very good time.”

  She pulled her legs away and tucked them under her butt. Her brain, not her body, was going to conduct these talks. “You do have a way of sweeping a girl off her feet.”

  “Well? Are you swept? Where shall we go? Let’s get started before you fall asleep. The test won’t count if that happens.”

  She scanned his face. He had those intent, hooded eyes again. A man on a mission. “You’re serious, aren’t you,” she asked.

  “Never more so.” He pushed himself up with a grunt then stood scrutinizing her. Towering above her, with that jacket and tie, his arm folded across his chest, Toph brought back a dim memory of some assistant principal in Janey’s past. He was someone waiting for an answer, and no matter what she said, she’d be in trouble.

  Nonsense. Janey was an adult too. “This is too much too soon, Toph. Until a half hour ago. No, more like fifteen bloody minutes ago! I had no idea about what happened…about the incident in the bathtub and about the ah…baby. Potential baby,” she corrected.

  “All right. If it’s too fast for you then how about just a kiss or two?”

  She twitched her uninjured shoulder impatiently. “And if that’s too fast?”

  “A hug?”

  She sighed. “You know, I feel kind of crummy. I could be pregnant. I was shot a couple of weeks ago. I still get headaches from the concussion, I think.”

  “Okay. Right. We can skip the sex. I’ll bring you breakfast in bed. Forget the test altogether. Just let me stay.”

  “Why are you so insistent?”

  His dark eyebrows rose in surprise. “Because I think I’m right. If you’re pregnant, we ought to get married.”

  “Huh. Mickey warned me about you.”

  Toph shifted his weight onto his heels. “Yeah? What did he say?”

  “That you were a pain in the, uh, neck.”

  “Mickey, of all people, should talk.”

  She laughed, grateful the intensity had gone out of his voice and stance. “Yes, Mr. O’Connor is an enormous pain. And have I forgotten to thank you for forcing him to take care of us? Seriously. He’s amazing. But what he said about you made sense. You decide what people need or want and then keep after them until they do it.”

  Toph wandered over to his glass of wine and gulped most of it down. “I see people’s talents. I help them achieve their goals.”

  “He said that too.”

  “Janey, I am not a bully.”

  She nodded her agreement. “No. Zack is a bully. You’re too smart. You’re determined.”

  “Okay, I’m determined. Nothing wrong with that. But I am not a bully, so if you tell me to go home, I’ll leave.”

  He gave her a friendly, warm smile. Nothing threatening. “On the other hand, I’ll be back and keep coming back until you tell me to get lost and you mean it.”

  Janey swallowed hard. She understood that Toph Dunham’s quiet confidence was impervious to most outside forces. Was he bordering on the insanely conceited? Probably not. He seemed to know the difference between “I think” and “I know”. She couldn’t see him as a stalker.

  He put down his glass again and took a step toward her. Slowly. A man approaching a fear-filled wild animal. A kind of stalker, after all.

  “Janey,” he said.

  She held still and closed her eyes. She was lost if she met those gleaming eyes when he watched her like that.

  Then again…

  Why the heck not?

  For the moment she didn’t mind if someone powerful took over. Since she had woken up in the hospital, she’d been waiting for someone to come take care of her, hold her and tell her everything would be all right.

  Her parents were dead. They probably wouldn’t have run over to help her if they’d been alive. Her sister was in jail, again, and young Rachel would be too scared by the job of taking care of her only caregiver, so she had just kept her mouth shut. Her friends were a tremendous help when they could come over, but everyone was so busy. And now there was the, oh God, possibility of a baby to think about. Oh my good gosh. She would just give in temporarily. Just for now.

  She heard the rustle of his clothing as he knelt down near her again.

  Later she’d fight him off. Once she’d recovered. Because she wanted to be honest, she warned him, “Okay, listen. This is just for now. I decide how to lead my life in the long run. I’ll pick my own course and I’m not going to allow acts of God to take charge of my life.”

  The rustling stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t be one of your…your people. But all right, I’ll let you treat me like a brainless sap for a day or two.”

  His large warm hands rubbed up and down the bathrobe on her arms then lightly grasped her forearms to pull her closer.

  “I’d be a brainless sap myself if I treated you that way.” He sounded insulted and amused.

  Her heart stuttered with anticipation. “I-I mean it. I’m giving in to your plan. Temporarily. Only until, um…”

  Until what? Her eyes stayed closed so she could only hear and feel him slowly closing the distance between them. And now she could smell the clean, ironed scent of his shirt and the spice and chlorine of him, and the wine on his warm breath. “Only until I feel better. Wait. I have to know you’re not going to make me sign any papers or anything or…or swallow me up whole,” she said, knowing she babbled nonsense, but she couldn’t do better because her insides were already beginning to melt.

  “Never,” he breathed in her ear. His mouth grazed her cheek then the tip of her nose, and then settled against her lips for a kiss that started out slow and soft, but quickly gained enough power to swoop through her and curl her toes. Her head tilted so he could get a better angle on her. Delicious Toph. Oh my. She remembered this.

  A man dressed like a Republican or an undertaker, in a silk tie, a crisply starched pristine white shirt and a dark, conservative suit was thoroughly kissing her. This was a man who undoubtedly attended every PTA meeting, paid his taxes on time, and perhaps wrote letters to the editor, and yet her body did not reject him as monotonous. Maybe her animal self was capable of change. Maybe she could grow up. Or maybe she didn’t care what Toph wore or was. Or maybe he was right and he really was an outlaw beneath the solid-citizen exterior.

  “Stand up,” he coaxed. “You don’t have to open your eyes. Just stand up.”

  He put his hand on her elbow and she let him pull her up.

  “Good,” he said. “It’s time to sweep you off your feet.”

  “Whoa!” She grabbed at him around his neck as he tipped her back, caught her and hauled her up into his arms.

  “Good gosh, you’re goi
ng to break your back,” she squawked, and clutched him around the neck.

  “Nonsense,” he said, though he sounded slightly breathless as he made his way down the hall. “How much do you weigh?”

  “I have no idea.”

  His hold on her suddenly loosened and she clutched him harder to keep from dropping.

  “You don’t know your weight?” He couldn’t sound more amazed if she had forgotten her own name.

  “Our scales broke. Last time I checked I was maybe one hundred and forty. But that was when I was working part-time at the Chug and had way too much access to Lindy’s baked goods. Yummy.”

  He laughed. “That’s it, Janey, you have no choice. You must marry me.”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Spend some time around models and you’ll know. God, you are wonderful.”

  She snorted. “Because I’m pudgy, or because Rachel and I broke the scales by jumping up and down on them to see how high we could make it go? Since when is acting like idiots and breaking a set of scales a virtue?”

  He’d manage to shove the door open, while supporting her backside with a raised knee. “Since you did it.” He peered around in the dark and fumbled on the wall. “Where is the light?”

  “Zack shattered my lamp that day. My room is all cleaned up because Mickey hired someone, of course. But I’ve been sleeping on the couch.”

  “Okay, we have another goal. We’ll banish Zack Blair’s sleazy spirit from your bedroom,” Toph located the bed and carefully, slowly, leaned over to deposit her onto it.

  After the delicate solicitude he showed as he put her down on the bed, she half expected him to tuck her in, kiss her goodnight on the forehead and go turn off the lights in the apartment. Maybe go to Rachel’s room and fetch a teddy bear for her to cuddle.

  He didn’t take the time to close the door or go turn off any lights. Instead he gently pushed her over and lay down next to her.

  In the room lit only with the hall light, he put his arms around her and pulled her close against him. They lay face-to-face. His arousal pressed against her stomach, but he did not move or thrust against her. She held herself still, also. Waiting. Wondering if she could close the door after letting this storm in. Hoping the storm would be a good time but leave her intact.

  “Now, Janey Carmody. It’s your turn. You tell me what we should do. Should we try to fall sleep like this? Or can I kiss you again?”

  “First thing,” she said. “You might as well be comfortable. Take off the tie and the jacket.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Toph did more than remove the tie and jacket. He stripped down to the skin. He neatly folded his clothes and hung his jacket over a chair.

  “Oops,” he said. And walked out to turn off lights all over the apartment. That answered one potential question about Toph. He didn’t mind nudity. If she had a body as perfect as his, she probably wouldn’t mind prancing around naked.

  He moved cautiously back into the room which was now in complete darkness. The bed sank under his weight as he kneeled on it for a moment.

  “I sort of remember. Wasn’t the bathroom dark like this?” Janey whispered.

  “Yup,” he said. He stood up again, felt along the bed then pulled back the covers. “Your apartment is drafty,” he said as he climbed in.

  “There’s no insulation and the garage is right below us.”

  “Do you mind if I get under the covers? Do you want to join me?”

  “No and no. I’m warm enough.”

  “Mmm,” he said in a low voice. “You are too. You are an oven. Hot.”

  Everything he said made her insides twist with enthusiasm even when she wasn’t certain he meant to be suggestive.

  She closed her eyes, determined to rest and not give in to the heat circling her lower body. Sleeping seemed out of the question for at least a week—her brain was going well over the speed limit, racing around the amazing facts and suspicions of her life. Too bad wine was out of the question.

  A baby. Toph’s baby.

  “It would be gorgeous,” she said aloud.

  “What?”

  “Your baby. Cynthia is beautiful.”

  “She looks more like Bea.”

  She wasn’t really listening. She was examining her imaginary baby, its round little face like hers with his dark, heavy-lidded eyes. “Toph, I’m so dizzy I could fall off the planet.”

  He sat up suddenly and leaned over her. A waft of pure Toph came to her. She took in a deep breath of him and hoped he didn’t notice.

  He ran a hand gently over her forehead. “Oh no. Are you going to be okay? Is it the concussion?”

  “Um. No, not literally. I mean I’m going around in circles.”

  He flopped back down and grunted. “Now, that’s just what I don’t understand. Why circles? Why not just go straight ahead?”

  “Not everyone is equipped with tunnel vision. You’re the kind of person who thinks you know what’s what, and you march ahead, damn the tornadoes.”

  “Torpedoes. It’s damn the torpedoes. Though I’m not exactly sure why.”

  “Whatever,” she said, impatient. “Tornadoes, torpedoes, tomatoes.”

  He turned onto his side, facing her again. “Hey, that’s right, I forgot. I was going to ask if you’re hungry.”

  “Toph!”

  “No, no. You wanted evidence that I am flustered too? I’m giving it to you.”

  She had to laugh. “You flustered? I’d like to see that.”

  His voice was soft with pain when he said, “Oh Janey. You should have seen me when they told me you’d been shot.”

  Again her stomach twisted. Rachel said he’d had a fit. Maybe he was infatuated with her, the way she thought she might be with him. Janey knew infatuation, she’d learned about it with Buddy and a couple of others. Lust and infatuation were nothing real or new to her.

  “Anyway,” she said, drawing out the word to pull him back on subject. “I am going in circles.”

  “Yes. That kind of confusion is hard to cope with,” he said sympathetically.

  Darn. Now he’d said the right thing. She threw herself onto her side away from him.

  “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” He sounded puzzled rather than hurt.

  “Not at all. I-I…” She let her voice fade away.

  After a full minute she was already off on another feverish tangent, how even the sound of his exhaled breath echoed with sensuality. He spoke again. “You were about to say something. Can you remember what it is?”

  “Not really.” She heaved a gusty sigh.

  “May I put my arm around you?” he asked. “It might help keep you from getting so dizzy you fall off the bed.”

  She snickered. “I’m against the wall. You’re the one who’d fall out the bed.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep you from falling off the planet.”

  “You’re a saint.”

  “Selfless,” he agreed.

  She hadn’t said no, so of course almost at once his arm deftly slipped under her arm and slid up between her breasts. He moved as if he held a woman like this every night of his life. His hand curved up and rested lightly on her shoulder.

  “Does that hurt?” Toph’s warm breath brushed her ear.

  “No, it’s my other shoulder that got wounded. And it’s much better now.”

  He wiggled so that he could spoon with her. Despite the three blankets, sheet and her clothing, his warmth and his interest pressed against her back. She wondered when he’d begin to complain about aching balls, start the kind of whining she’d heard from other men—“Come on, Janey, give me some relief here.”

  But he lay quietly. No writhing or shoving. She was the one who seemed to have trouble holding still. She wanted to brush her hand over the muscular arm that held her in a firm clasp. She slowly, furtively, lowered her head so she could smell his skin again.

  His breath at the back of her hair was quiet but uneven. Ever so lightly, the fingers that clasped her shou
lder gently moved, rubbing. He touched her bathrobe, not her skin, so she barely discerned their slight movement. She closed her eyes. This would not work. If he could set fire to her so easily, she was not going to last ten minutes, much less the whole night.

  She practically sobbed with need for him. The desire that swamped her in the hotel room was flooding her brain, her heart, her belly. And just the flicker of memory reawakened that outrageous hunger. Well, the memory of desire and the actual man pressing against her, breathing softly in her hair. The actual naked man sporting an obvious erection.

  He was completely unfair. He pushed only as far as she would let him then forced her to take the extra step, the one that spelled real trouble.

  He could just wait until the cows came home. She was not going to turn around and give in to him.

  Her eyes had adjusted to the moonlight that shone through her window. It must have been a full moon, because she could even see the fine dark hairs on the arm that held her. She leaned down to see how the hairs prickled against her mouth. And how his skin tasted. Delicious. Warm and clean.

  She turned her head to run her lips over his wrist, over the discernable tan line on his wrist where he usually wore his watch. It was gone. He must have taken it off. He must have known it would be in the way if they made love. Huh. Conceited man, so certain she’d give in. She shut her eyes, determined not to.

  “Janey.” His whisper was hoarse, breathy.

  “Mmm?” She tried to sound sleepy but she bet his arm pressed across her front could feel her heart thump like a scampering rabbit and her jerked breath.

  “Janey.”

  “What is it, Toph?” She hoped she sounded a little impatient, as if he was interrupting her rest.

  “I really, really want to kiss you. May I?”

  She groaned. The raw, harsh pleading of his voice was a direct assault, and made her swoop and gasp as hard as if he’d put his fingers between her legs and skillfully manipulated everything he encountered down there.

  Since she didn’t answer, of course he took it as a yes. In a second or two the hand on her shoulder moved to cup her cheek and turn her toward him.