by Lyon, Raquel
“Which are?” Was it my imagination or was that glint in her eye in response to my wink?
“My undivided attention.”
“Not that special if I’m your only client.”
So not that stupid, after all. “I also have skills that don’t involve vegetation.” Jeez, I was at it again.
“And what would they be?”
Rein it in, Johnny. You’ll scare her off. “Carpentry, for one. Ever fancied a pergola, a bit of decking. A nice place to do your yoga?”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll give it some consideration.”
The following twenty minutes were spent discussing her garden, although her tight little sweater of soft, pink wool, practically shouting out and inviting my fingers to run over her alluring curves, ensured I wasn’t paying as much attention to what she was saying as I should have been. I had to force myself to focus on her face instead of her breasts on more than one occasion. A drink wouldn’t have gone amiss either. My mouth was a dry as a camel’s backside, and my tongue kept getting stuck at the back of my throat. Thank Christ, I’d had the foresight to take a notebook, or I would never have remembered our conversation, and would have been without the handy boner cover when I got up to leave.
***
It was just my luck that it rained for four days straight—heavy relentless rain that pounded the windows and bounced of the pavements—and I had to postpone starting work on Cora’s garden. Fucking British summers drove me nuts. Trust me to choose a weather-reliant career. I occupied my time by contacting an old uni friend who’d offered to design a website for me, and we ran through a number of ideas. Pappa was fascinated by the process, continually looking over my shoulder to read the exchange of emails. To fuel his interest in modern technology, I shared the workings of a software program I’d developed, recommending the best plants for various seasons and soil conditions.
The rain had kept Cora indoors too. I knew that because I couldn’t resist keeping one eye on the window, hoping for a glimpse of her, as I worked. By contrast, Kendrick was hardly ever at home—and when he was, he was flaked out—offering me no opportunity to have our promised chat.
On the fifth day, the clouds broke, and, as Cora had requested, work began in the front garden of number twenty-one: starting with the lawn and moving on to forking out the dandelions. By mid-morning, I was parched, so when Cora emerged from the house with a glass of cold lemonade I took it gratefully and gulped it down.
Furtively stealing a glance at my employer, I noted she was dressed in a pretty halterneck number, lightly skimming the top of her knees and exposing her shapely calves. And considering how low the back was, there was no way she was wearing a bra. The thought heated my blood and sent it straight to my groin.
“You look nice,” I commented. It was an innocent remark. She couldn’t possibly take offence.
“Thank you. I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” she said, taking my empty glass and placing it just inside the door. “Will you be all right here while I’m gone?”
“Are you going into town?”
“Yes.”
“Driving?”
She jiggled a bunch of keys. “That’s generally how I get there. Why?”
“I could do with a few supplies: weed killer, lawn seed, that kind of thing.” And an excuse to be alone with you. “You couldn’t drop me off at the store, could you? That is, unless you already have what I need, but I didn’t spot any in your shed.”
“I’d be surprised if you found anything in there not covered in rust or mildew. I should have realised you might need to purchase a few things. Are you ready to leave now? I arranged to meet Diane at twelve.”
Throwing the fork into the wheelbarrow, I grinned. “Sure thing. I’m good when you are.”
She nodded. “Okay.” She glanced down at the dirt covering my jeans. “I’ll just get a cover for the seat.”
I winced slightly, as I climbed into the car. Generally, I considered myself a fit guy, but my back hadn’t had this much of a workout for quite a while, and I had a feeling I’d pulled something.
Cora noticed my discomfort, as she turned on the ignition. “You know, yoga is excellent for stretching out the muscles. You should try it sometime.”
“Are you offering to show me your moves?” Because if she were, I could think of a few moves I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing.
My innuendo went ignored, as she concentrated on the road. “I meant you should take a class. I had a very good instructor at the gym.”
“Not really my style. I prefer one on one. Maybe you could teach me.”
“Oh no. I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. What would people think? They might get the wrong idea.”
In my side vision, I watched the line of her legs working the pedals. She had great legs. “Who’s going to know?”
“My daughter, for one.”
Leaning forward, I propped my elbow on the dashboard to look her square in the face. “I don’t care if you don’t. Do you approve of everything she does?”
“No, but she’s young.” She caught my eye and frowned. “And so are you.”
“I’m nearly twenty-three.”
We took a right-hand exit, and her head turned along with the car. “And I’m thirty-nine.”
“That’s nothing. Besides, you don’t look a day over twenty-eight.”
Her head shot back. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting with me, Johnny.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Well don’t. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Why? Surely lots of men flirt with you.”
“Some. And I’ve never been comfortable with it.”
“I’m sorry. Friends it is then.” If that was all she was willing to offer, I could work with it … for now. It wasn’t as if I’d expected her to just fall into my bed, although it would have made things a lot easier if she had. No. Breaking through her crusty exterior wasn’t something that would happen automatically; it would have to be earned. A classy woman like Cora needed wooing, seducing, and besides, I really liked her, and she deserved more than just another notch on my bedpost. If I’d learned anything, in the past few years, it was that finding the right girl is a gamble, and I’d pushed my dick into too many slot machines, hoping to hit the jackpot. Cora was the million-dollar drop. It was time to up the stakes.
“Why? What’s in it for you?” she asked, her tone steeped in curiosity.
“The pleasure of your company.”
“You’re a strange boy, Johnny.”
“So people say.”
We pulled up in the car park and the engine idled. Cora removed her purse from her bag and slipped me a couple of twenties.
“Will that cover it?”
“Should do. Thanks.” I stepped out onto the tarmac. “Have a nice lunch,” I said, waving her off with the twenties.
After buying everything I needed, I caught the bus back and spent another hour or so in the garden before calling it a day.
Back at Pappa’s, Kendrick was slouched in front of his favourite comedy show. He offered me a cursory glance. “Where’ve you been all day?”
“Next door.” I collapsed into an opposing chair.
“Huh?”
“At Cora’s place.”
TV forgotten, he held my eye. “What the fuck were you doing there? Christ. Did you score with one of those hot chicks?”
“Is that all you think about?”
He looked like shit. His nocturnal lifestyle clearly didn’t agree with him. “There’re worse things,” he said.
“Sadly, no sex involved. The only thing I scored was a job. I’m sorting out the garden.”
“That’d better be all you’re sorting.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I’ll be bummed if you bag one of those two babes before me. You gotta respect the protocol, and I saw them first.”
“No worries. I’ve only met one of them, and she didn’t give me a second glance. I tel
l you what, though, you get first dibs on the daughters if I get to bang the mother.” I winked.
He laughed. “You’re one sick motherfucker, you know that? It’s a good job I know you’re joking. So, are you up for another trip to the club? I put in a good word last night, and I reckon I could score you a game in the back room. Just make sure you pay up when you lose.”
“I don’t lose.”
Chapter Five
I did lose. Twice. Then I won a small pot and lost the next. I was only up about two-fifty, but it was all part of the plan. If I were going to hustle these guys, I needed to test the lie of the land before making my move. The next round of cards was dealt and everyone bet in the first round. I scanned the table. There were five of us altogether. The tattooed guy opposite me was scratching his hand, which meant he had at least a straight. The chain-smoking, fat guy on my left folded, leaving the blond dude, wearing an open-necked, yellow shirt, and Snakehead, as I’d nicknamed him, on my right. Snakehead had been the hardest to read all night. Only once had the snake’s eye above his ear twitched, and it had happened immediately before he folded. It wasn’t twitching now. He had something, but what? The pot had crept up to over a grand, a great night’s work if I could pocket it. Yellow Shirt called, then Tattooed Guy also folded, clearly not trusting his luck. Snakehead lifted the corner of his cards to check his hand, then raised. Shit. I had just enough to cover it, but I had to go all in, and if I lost the hand, I’d be all out for the night, and severely pissed. I thought about my four kings sitting on the table, and prayed they were enough. Yellow Shirt’s cheek developed a tic as he had to go all in too, so I didn’t have to wait long for the cards to be revealed. Being the last active player, he had to show his hand first. He grinned as he laid his full house on the table, smugly, but stood up so quickly that he knocked over his chair and almost tripped over it in disgust, when Snakehead produced four queens and faced me expectantly.
“Beginner’s luck.” I beamed, as I turned over the kings.
“Stiffed us, more like.” Anger filled his cheeks with murderous blood. “No one has that much luck the first time.”
I scooped up the pot from the middle of the table and patted it into a neat pile, grateful we weren’t playing with chips. Somehow I got the feeling I wouldn’t be given the chance to cash them in. Bravado was the only way out. “How about I come back tomorrow and give you the chance to win it all back? I’d stay but it looks like you’ve run out of funds.”
Tattooed Guy thumped the table. “He’s a fucking hustler!”
“I’m sorry. I thought that was the point,” I said, standing. “Don’t a bunch of you let a couple of newbies in each night and fleece them for every penny? It’s my guess that this dude hasn’t been in here before, either.” My eyes flicked to the left and the guy shook his head, before I faced Tattoo again. “What’s up, mate? Things not one-sided enough for you?”
“Watch your mouth, and get out of here before I paint it a brighter shade of red,” Snakehead snarled.
“No problem. See you tomorrow,” I said, with a finger flick to the temple.
***
The next morning, I was up not long after the sun to start work on Cora’s garden. There was so much shit to clear, I felt like Prince Phillip hacking his way through a wall of thorns to get to Sleeping Beauty. The wheelbarrow filled within minutes, and I wheeled it around the side of the house to deposit the cuttings in the bin.
Cora’s voice drifted out from the kitchen. “I’m not interested in another relationship. My life is far too busy, and I’m too old to start again.”
“Nonsense. Look at me. I’m having a great time,” said another woman’s voice.
I inched closer to the window to listen.
“You’ve never been married,” Cora said. “Your great time started in your teens and kept on going.”
I suppressed a snigger behind my hand. Cora had a sense of humour. Craning my head around the window frame, I looked inside. Cora’s companion was perched at the breakfast bar running her hand over her excessively backcombed hair.
“Exactly. The world is too full of gorgeous men to choose just one. It’s fun. You’re my best friend, and without a man, you’re missing out on so much of it.”
“I’m perfectly happy as I am.”
“No you’re not.” The woman laughed. “Look at you. You’ve got a face like a wet weekend, and if you take a break from men any longer you’re going to run out of batteries. There’s only one thing to put some colour back into those cheeks, and it comes packaged in a tailor-made suit. Just get this thing over with, and I’ll have you back out there in no time.”
Cora picked up two mugs from the counter and placed one in front of her friend. “I don’t think so. You might enjoy tense evenings, pretending to be interested in your date’s conversation, and laughing in all the right places, but it’s not my idea of fun. You know that.”
“What I know is I will not allow you to end up a lonely, old prune.”
“I won’t, but I am set in my ways. I don’t want to hide who I really am and have to make the effort to look nice all the time. I’m past that.”
“Oh, that’s hogwash, and you know it. You like to look good.”
Cora blew on her drink and settled herself onto the stool next to her friend. “I like to keep in shape. There’s a difference. I’m doing it for me, no one else.”
“All I’m saying is you can’t shut yourself off from the male population, altogether. It would be such a waste of your assets.” The woman turned her excessively made-up face, and I shot back against the wall before she could spot me.
“My assets are fine as they are,” I heard Cora add.
I had to agree, and I decided to make it my mission to see she changed her mind about dating, but if I were ever going to have the chance to get up close and personal with Cora, I had to stop acting like a peeping perv. Turning the wheelbarrow around, I headed back to work.
The women emerged from the house as I was pruning suckers from the roses. It wasn’t the best time of year for pruning, but they’d been left to run wild, and I would have been lacerated to death trying to reach the rest of the flower bed if I hadn’t at least tried to tame them.
Cora waved off her friend and handed me a cup of tea. “I didn’t expect to see you here this early.”
I took the cup and nodded my thanks. “There’s a lot to do.”
As she concentrated on the clump of heather I’d had to move from beneath the rhododendron bush to a sunnier spot by the lawn, I allowed my eyes to scan down her body. She was wearing a silk robe with God knows what underneath. A co-ordinating nightdress? A lacy little two-piece? It looked like nothing but her birthday suit when a breeze rippled the silk over the peaks of her nipples, and I felt a stirring. I had to stop thinking about her naked. Concentrate on her eyes, Johnny, her eyes. “Aren’t you going for your morning run?” I asked.
“Later, maybe.” Her gaze moved to the ground, as she made no effort to return to the house.
“Is everything okay? You seem a bit down.”
“I have to do something this morning that I haven’t been looking forward to.” She shrugged one shoulder as if she didn’t care, when quite clearly, she did. The movement caused her robe to dip at the neckline, and exposed a hint of cleavage to my grateful eyes. How I wished I could reach under the material and expose the full glory of those enticing breasts.
“Anything I can help you with?”
“No. No. I’ll be fine,” she said, as she turned and disappeared back inside the house, leaving me both puzzled and aroused.
I drained my cup and, not wanting to litter the garden with dirty crockery, cautiously entered the house. The layout was similar to Pappa’s place, if you discounted the fact that on the ground floor Cora’s living room and kitchen had been knocked into one. I placed my cup into the sink and walked back towards the front door, but before I reached it, a faint sound of sobbing filtered down the stairway. Was that Cora crying? Of course,
it was highly possible it could be her daughter, but my gut told me it wasn’t.
Chapter Six
Warily, I snuck up the stairs, keeping to the edges where there was less chance of any creaking. I was definitely turning into a fucking stalker. The sobs originated from the room I knew to be the largest, and I guessed it must belong to Cora. I tiptoed up to the door. It was slightly ajar. Through the small crack, I saw her. She was perched on the edge of the bed cradling her head in her hands, dressed only in a red satin set that did nothing to dampen the semi I still sported.
I knocked lightly.
“Cora? Can I help?”
She didn’t reply.
I pushed the door gently. “Cora?”
She sniffed and wiped away her tears on the back of her hand. “What are you doing up here, Johnny?”
“I went to put my cup in the kitchen and heard crying. What’s up?”
“It’s not your concern.” She snatched at the dress lying at her side and pulled it over her head without thinking, ending up in a tangled up mess, with half of the dress snagged on the back of her head and arms everywhere. I stepped over and attempted to unhook her from the twisted cloth. “Here, let me at least help you with this.”
She stood and recoiled from my touch. “I’m fine,” she said, tangling herself further.
“No you’re not. Stop being so fucking pig-headed and stand still.”
She sighed and allowed me to remove the dress. I shook it out and lifted it back over her head. With my assistance, it fell into place with ease.
I zipped it together at the rear and stood back to admire the view. “There, that’s better,” I said. The red material emphasized her slight tan and highlighted her eyes. She looked so beautiful I wanted to rip the dress straight back off, lick the tears from her face, and carry on licking until there was no part of her left untasted.
“Thank you. You can leave now.”
“Not until you tell me what’s upsetting you.”
She grabbed a tissue and dabbed her face, then picked up a hairbrush to run it through her blonde waves. “You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
