What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG)
Page 25
“I’m not sure I totally understand our situation here,” Travis said evenly. “I didn’t even catch your name.”
“It’s Casey,” she told him, handing him a steaming mug filled with coffee, and nodding toward the cream and sugar containers on the counter. “Our situation is very simple. Mike sent you here so you could talk to his father about getting a job on the Annex. No offense, he sends someone every year. What Mike didn’t know was that Matt broke his leg in a skiing accident. So, if you still want that job interview, you’ll have to catch a plane to Boston. How would you like your eggs?”
“Uhh…sunny side up,” he mused. “What about your job?”
“I don’t want my job back.” Casey took a bowl of brown eggs from the refrigerator and pulled a skillet from the hanging rack. “I’ve decided I’m just not cut out to be a reporter.”
Travis took a sip of coffee. “How long did it take you to reach that conclusion?”
“Ten years.”
His head snapped back. “Ten years? But you don’t look old enough to –”
“I’m hitting the big three o.”
His long fingers came up to capture her chin. Green eyes blinked inquiringly into his narrowed sherry ones. “I’m looking for marked signs of dissipation.”
Casey laughed and pulled her head away. “Hey, we’re all wonder women now. Multi-tasking, taking charge, heading up companies. We have come a long way.” Her smile faded and she sighed. “The trouble is, around the newsroom, I haven’t come a long way. I’m the oldest fixture, still looked at like the go-fer, running copy and going for coffee and food. I’ve worked my way up to be a damn good reporter but…” she shook an egg at him. “But I’m still the one who makes the coffee, goes for food, who gets hit on by one and all for money loans, who will cover an extra shift.” She cracked the eggs into the heated skillet and watched the yolks spread. “Sorry, you’re getting scrambled.”
“Fine.” He settled on a wooden bar stool. “So you’re using this place until you find a new job.”
“Well, actually I’m recovering from what Matt claims is a bad case of burnout.”
“Your writing doesn’t show it. I like what I read last night.”
“Is that why you made all those editing marks? Or was that the English professor in you creeping out?”
Travis laughed. “The corrections were just a few minor points, and you’re right, it was automatic. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ll learn from them.” Casey transferred the fluffy eggs onto a dish and added toast.
“Matt and Mike must be very, uhh, fond of you to let your stay here.”
“Still wondering about our threesome?”
“I admit I’m curious.”
“I suppose I could cleverly invent some wild, wicked erotic story that would send a blush over your cheeks,” she teased. “But –” she slid the plate and a fork in front of him. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Are you kidding?” She settled on an adjacent stool. “How many femme fatales are six foot one? How many men want to tackle an Amazon?”
“I seem to recall it was quite a pleasant experience.”
“Really?” She was surprised, and her expression showed it. Her long fingers played with her braided ponytail. “Don’t forget you were half asleep at the time, and since then you haven’t attacked me once.”
He laughed. “About you and the Granger men?”
“Matt’s my uncle, his first wife was my mother’s sister. Mike’s my first cousin. My mother died right after I was born and for the first five years of my life I lived with them.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t.” She shook her head. “You’re thinking that’s how I got my job on the Annex. Well, Matt didn’t even own the paper then. He bought it just five years ago and no one even knows he’s my uncle. Although, since he’s had two other wives since Aunt Helen, I really think it’s a stretch to call him uncle.”
“I suppose you’re right about that.” He pushed aside his empty plate.
“How long have you been teaching at Michigan State with Mike?”
Travis took a hasty mouthful of coffee. “Well, I’ve known Mike for three months.”
“It’s too bad you couldn’t have gotten one of those overseas study assignments. Mike has emailed the most gorgeous pictures of Greece.” She reached for the coffee pot and refilled Travis’s empty cup.
“Actually,” he hesitated for a long moment. “I’ve been out of touch with the campus since I lost my job.”
She reached out and patted his arm. “I am so sorry. It must be tough being out of work, everyone is cutting back including teaching positions.” Her lips drooped expressively. “It’s really a shame you came all the way to Mexico for nothing. Although, with Matt selling the paper to the Marshall Syndicate, I’m sure they’ll want to put some of their own people on the staff.”
“Well, maybe this was fate. I’d hate to start working on a paper that’s in trouble.”
“Trouble!” Her voice was indignant. “The Annex is not in any trouble. We’ve won two Pulitzers and countless other awards. We are a highly respected, powerful newspaper. Some of the biggest papers link to us on the Internet. In fact –” she leaned forward, her fingernail tapping the counter. “That’s probably why this Marshall Group wants us.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“You know how those syndicates are. They want to get a foothold in every major city. Then they can swing elections, lobby for special interest groups, or worse. They’ll turn a responsible newspaper into a lurid, sensational tabloid of yellow journalism. Mark my words, this Marshall Group will do just that!”
Travis rubbed his large hand over the dark stubble on his chin. “Is that how Matt Granger feels?”
Casey sighed and shook her head. “Matt thinks the only thing this syndicate is going to do is hand over money so he can modernize. He wants the offices refurbished, the computers upgraded, and the salaries to get boosted, and maybe turn the Annex into a semi-weekly or even a daily.”
“And you don’t think that’s what a sale to a syndicate would do?”
“No, I don’t.”
“But then you’re not involved anymore. You’ve quit.”
“You are right!” Then she laughed. “I’m on my own. Hoping some smart publisher will snap up my novel.” Casey picked up Travis’s empty plate and walked over to the sink. “What about you? Are you going to grab a flight to Boston?”
Travis watched her rinse the dish under the faucet. His eyes studied her profile and lingered over the tall, shapely body. A germ of an idea was forming in his mind. If he handled things right, this little grain of brilliance could turn into a polished pearl. And he’d have a fabulous vacation.
He slid off the stool and walked over to the sliding glass doors. With his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets, he surveyed the stunning landscape of green mountains and glittering sea. “There doesn’t seem to be any point in going to Boston if the paper is going to be sold. To be perfectly honest –” he cleared his throat and let his shoulder’s slump dejectedly. “I…I really couldn’t afford the extra plane fare.”
“I didn’t realize…” Casey hesitated. She turned away from the sink and let her green eyes study his bare, sinewy back. “Have you been unemployed long?”
He nodded. Suddenly he burst into a dry, hacking cough. It took him a few agonizing minutes to recover. When he did, his voice was weak and cracked. “I’ve been sick. Mike thought a few weeks here, relaxing in the sun, would help me recuperate faster.”
Her bare feet silently crossed the cool tiles. She touched his arm. “I really am sorry, Travis. Was it anything serious?
He looked into her compassion filled, liquid green eyes, then turned his head away. “Legionnaire’s disease.”
“Oh, my God, I read about that outbreak. Five people died.” Her hand fell away. “Why you’re lucky to be alive!”
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�I know. It was touch and go there for a while.” He exhaled another sigh then walked back to the counter and poured a third cup of coffee. “I was so looking forward to getting a few weeks of rest, lying on the beach and soaking up the sun. It’s freezing in Michigan.” He shook his head. “Actually, the job interview was just an extra. I seem to have lost everything…again.”
Casey heard another agonizing sigh while she looked guiltily out at the dazzling blue sky and shimmering waters of the bay. “Why don’t you get a hotel room and rest in Acapulco.”
Travis shook his head. “This is the height of the season. I doubt I could even find a room, and, if I could, it would cost a bundle. I didn’t come prepared for any further expenses. In fact,” his voice dropped miserably, “I’m even wondering how I’ll get back home.”
“Didn’t you get a round trip ticket?” Her smooth forehead creased in puzzlement at his statement.
“I got one of those super saver tickets and you have to stay a minimum of two weeks or pay full fare,” he explained glumly. “I suppose I could find some cheap rooming house in the village. It would probably be damp and hot and I couldn’t afford to eat.” He burst into another fit of coughing. “But don’t you worry about it.” He gasped and dropped wearily onto the bar stool.
“Travis, I feel terrible about this.” She moved to stand behind him. “If Matt were here, you could have stayed but…”
“I don’t suppose…” he said slowly, turning around to stare at her. “No.” He quickly turned back, shaking his head. “No, it was silly of me to even think of such a thing.”
Casey reached out and touched his bare shoulder. His naked flesh felt damp and warm. “Gosh, I think you have a fever.” Her palm pressed against the side of his face, turning it toward her. “Tell me…what can I do to help you?”
“Well, I was just thinking that this is such a big house. The bedrooms are well separated and each has its own bath. Maybe I could just stay.”
“Stay! You mean, share this house?”
“After all, Mike did invite me to use the villa, and half of it is his.”
“Well, yes…but…”
“We’ve already slept in the house together.”
“Well, yes…but…but I didn’t know you were here.”
“But…I knew you were here.”
Casey’s blood seemed to be rushing through her veins at an alarming rate. Her knees began to feel strange and she hastily pulled out a bar stool for herself. “This is very unorthodox, especially for me.”
She remembered how five brief days ago she had been complaining about how dull and boring her life was, how she wanted to live dangerously and flout convention. Well, here was her big chance. And really how dangerous was a college professor and friend of Mike’s? “I guess it would be all right. I mean you’re probably use to coed dorms on campus.”
His hand came up to rub his jaw, successfully hiding a confident smile. He managed to make his voice sound strained and hoarse. “I really appreciate it. I need the rest and when I get home I’ll be in better condition to go job hunting.” He put a hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. “We’re two civilized adults. I’m sure we can share a double occupancy without letting things get out of hand.”
Her eyes widened. “Out of hand?” She echoed. “Oh, you mean –”
He nodded; his voice was calm and reassuring as his fingers drifted lightly up her bare thigh. “I just want you to know you won’t have a thing to worry about with me living here.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be safe enough. Some women excite men, I calm them down. You’ll go back to Michigan rested and relaxed.” She’d need no chaperone here. They were already chatting like old friends, as comfortable as a brother and sister. Somehow, that thought depressed her. She looked up and found Travis was staring at her. She smiled. “Besides, I’m taller than you are.”
“Only when I slouch.” He stood up and pulled her with him. His hands locked around her waist, drawing her tight against the full length of his body.
Her bare toes wiggled against his, their knees met, and she could feel the taut muscles of his thighs under the thin trousers harden against her own. The sharp buckle on his belt pinched her navel through her swimsuit. Her soft full breasts were squashed against the hair roughened strength of his naked torso.
His shoulders were almost two inches higher than hers, his lips, nose and eyes only slightly out of alignment. At such intimate quarters Travis’s inherent virility seemed dangerously magnified. Casey recalled their previous encounter, remembering the masterful possession of his mouth and the expertise of his touch. Her breath quickened, coming in short, jerky gasps, and a wash of color flooded her cheeks.
“Of course, I’d be taking my life in my hands with you having that black belt.” His words warm against her ear.
“That’s quite true.” Her voice sounded considerably more poised and controlled than her havoc-ladened senses.
“That’s rather unusual – your having a black belt.”
Casey took a step back and tried unsuccessfully to control her twitching lips. “Actually, it came on a sundress I bought for my vacation. But…I do have a green belt in Tai Kwon Do and I do kickboxing.” Her tone was warning.
Travis’s low, rich laughter filled the kitchen. He reached out and gave her braid a playful tug. Instantly, Casey felt ridiculous over her reaction. It was quite apparent she was once again reduced to the good little scout always ready to lend a helping hand.
She found herself growing more and more angry. Her body went rigid, and impatience flared in her voice. “We’ve got a few ground rules to get straight.” Her green eyes boldly challenged his laughing tawny gaze. “I am not about to spend my time picking up and cleaning and cooking for you. I am here to totally work on my book. I don’t want to hear one complaint about my work habits.”
“That sounds fair to me. I don’t expect to be taken care of. I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a while.”
“Then I won’t have to worry about a wife, fiancée, or live-in companion showing up?”
A strange look passed over his face. “No.”
“But there was one of the above?”
“Fiancée,” came his clipped response. “But that was over a while ago.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I wasn’t.” He smiled suddenly, the grooves in his cheeks deepening. “What about you?”
“My last date took my roommate home for the weekend. I wouldn’t worry about anyone popping in to look for me.”
“I don’t even know your full name.”
“It’s Reynolds, Casey Reynolds.”
“Are those initials?”
She shook her head. “No, my father was a sports reporter for ESPN. He was a big fan of Casey Stengel’s. On the day I was born, he misunderstood the nurse and thought he had a son. I’m told his face fell the first time he changed my diaper.”
Travis laughed. “Say, he wasn’t Cameron Reynolds?” She nodded and he looked impressed. “I grew up reading his by-line. Wasn’t he killed in a plane crash a few years ago?”
Casey averted her eyes. “He had chartered a small plane when he missed his connection to cover the World Series. It never got off the runway.” She took a deep breath. “What about you?”
“Travis Craig.” He hesitated.
“Sounds like there’s more to that.”
“Well…”
“Oh, I know…Ph.D. right?”
He turned and picked up the coffee mug. “Right. It just seems silly to tack that on.”
She shrugged. “I don’t see why. It’s not easy to earn a doctorate, and I’m sure with your credentials, once you get yourself healthy, you’ll have no trouble finding another job.” Casey grimaced when she caught sight of the kitchen’s wall clock. “Well, roomy, I’ve got to get to work. Lunch is on your own, but I’ll make you a deal about dinner.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll cook, if you continue to edit my manuscript.”
3
“I’m starving.”
Casey grimaced in annoyance at having her train of thought interrupted. “Lunch is in the fridge.”
“I ate that six hours ago!” Travis’s long fingers curled around her swinging braid of brown hair, capturing it, and gently pulling her head back against his body. The typing stopped.
“Is that thunder?”
“That’s my stomach!”
Casey stared thoughtfully at the swirl pattern on the stucco ceiling. “I did promise to cook dinner, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. I’m starving.”
“You said that before.” She sighed resignedly and began pushing buttons to save her material to the flash drive, then switched off the machine. She twisted around in the dining room chair and looked up at him. He was wearing a pair of close fitting black swim trunks and a look of impatience. His broad, muscular body was already toasted by a day under the strong Mexican sun, the heat and perspiration had curled his hair into a nimbus of dark coils that framed the rugged angles of his face, and the heady scent of coconut tanning lotion assailed Casey’s nostrils. She found her own stomach rumbling in emptiness.
Her innocent green eyes looked up into his sober features. “How about plump, succulent chicken slowly roasted over hot coals and liberally coated with a mouthwatering marinade of tequila and lime juice? Add in some crisp veggies and a fresh spinach salad shimmering under an herb dressing.”
Travis groaned in ecstasy. “That sounds fantastic.”
She grinned and stood up. “Great. The gas grill’s out on the patio. I’ll get the chicken for you. All you have to do is keep basting it every fifteen minutes and –”
“Me?” He interrupted, his jaw dropping in shock.
She pushed his chin up with a long forefinger. “You’ve been lying in the sun relaxing all day while I’ve been doing mental work. I’m exhausted and hot and sweaty. You can start dinner while I grab a quick shower.” Her hands settled on the sinewy muscles of his upper arms. She turned him around and gave him a pushed out the open patio doors that led to the deck.