ARE YOU LONESOME TONIGHT? (Running Wild)

by Hutchinson, Bobby

  She’d thought half the night about meeting Harry, and she’d told herself that it was only for an hour, that she’d be wise to end it once and for all, that there was no future in seeing him again.

  But being with him, sharing thoughts about their kids, made her think she’d be a fool to tell him she wouldn’t see him again. How many guys really liked kids?

  And there was also the lust thing. Every minute she was with him, she had to really concentrate to keep from thinking about having sex with him.

  The trouble was, this real Harry was dangerously close to the man she fantasized about when she couldn’t sleep at night. He was smart and funny. And hot, don’t forget hot. He was kind and generous and, from what she could see, a wonderful father to his little girl. And just looking at his hands made her want them on her.

  He wasn't just pretending to like Graham, either. Harry was a man who truly enjoyed children; Maxine knew that from the way her son reacted to him. People might be able to fool adults, but no one could make kids like them.

  And he had shoulders she wanted to uncover. She wanted to know how he kissed. Was he a little rough, the way she fantasized?

  He’d reached the swings now, and he was carefully settling Graham in one of the buckets, then lifting Sadie into another.

  Maxine heard the cell phone in her shoulder bag ringing. Her heart sank; the very last thing she wanted to do right now was her job.

  She sighed and stopped and pulled it out, using her professional voice and name as she replied to the male voice on the other end.

  She waved at Harry and gestured at the phone, walking away from the swings to a deserted bench under a pine tree, out of earshot of anyone, and for the next while she did what she was an expert at, leading the faceless man on the other end into a fantasy and on to gratification.

  But the entire time, she watched Harry.

  He swung the two swings back and forth gently, alternating between the children. He turned once and gave her a thumbs-up sign, indicating that everything was under control.

  Instead of prolonging the conversation and mentally calculating the effect on her income, Maxine hurried it along. She very much wanted to get back to Harry.

  He talked to the kids, the senseless patter that came automatically with little people. He tried hard not to think about what Maxine was doing, but he couldn't manage it. He could see her long, lovely legs crossed, one foot swinging, an arm draped casually across the back of the bench, and in his imagination he could hear her spinning some downright dirty sexual illusion in that thick, rich voice.

  It drove him crazy. It made him jealous. She made him horny. He didn’t want her saying those things to anyone but him. He had to stop himself from racing over, snatching the phone, tossing it as far as he could into the underbrush, and then dragging Maxine into the trees. He’d yank those bloody shorts down around her ankles—

  "Daddy, push me higher.”

  Harry tried his best to concentrate on the kids, but it was a tough task. He tried to take his mind off of what Maxine was doing—verbal sex, with another man—by gulping in deep breaths, and tried to figure out a long-range plan.

  He had to do this carefully, gradually, so as not to spook her. He’d arrange dates that included the kids for as long as it was humanly possible, which might be a day or two, considering how aroused he got within ten feet of her. Then he’d see if she’d agree to an evening out, just the two of them.

  And if she did, he’d do a total replay.

  He’d redo the scenario from that fateful first meeting, including the room key, but this time he’d rewrite the ending.

  If, of course, she agreed. Would she agree? Could he feel so attracted to her without any response on her part?

  It was possible, but he didn’t think it was probable. If, of course, there was a merciful God.

  He gave Sadie’s swing a healthy shove and Graham’s a much gentler one, swinging the two of them in tandem, listening to their laughter and hoping like hell the electricity between him and Maxine flowed both ways.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Despite her good intentions of spending only an hour with Harry, it was nearly noon by the time Maxine got home.

  Polly took one look at her and shrieked, “You let him kiss you. I can tell by the slutty look in your eyes.”

  Maxine opened her mouth to deny it and thought, What the hell? Good lawyer that she was, Polly had an instinct for the truth.

  Besides, she hadn't been able to stop smiling all the way home. And her lips were sort of swollen. She’d noticed them in the rearview when she was checking on Graham.

  "I didn’t let him; it just happened. We were in the parking lot and I was putting Graham in his car seat, and when I straightened up, Harry was right behind me.”

  He'd taken her by the elbows and drawn her toward him, and the intense look in his eyes was mesmerizing. Still, it had started out as nothing more than a friendly brushing of lips. But somehow that brushing started a burning inside her, and her arms had somehow wound around him, and then he’d groaned and his head had angled differently, and his hand was stroking all down her back, and then his tongue, Oh, God, his tongue. He was definitely inventive with his tongue.

  “Polly, he kisses as if it’s the last thing in this world he's gonna do before he dies.”

  “Well, it’s no indication that he’d be good in bed, so don’t get your hopes up,” Polly said, reaching up and taking Graham out of Maxine’s arms and onto her lap. “I’ve kissed some guys and wanted to rape them on the spot, and then when we got down to it, they were hopeless. They’d never gotten past page one in the instruction book. You can’t go by just kisses.”

  Maxine didn’t want to argue, but she’d be willing to put this month’s mortgage up against the fact that Harry wasn’t one of those inept creatures. Just thinking about his kiss made the blood pool hot and heavy in her abdomen.

  “So are you going to?” Polly was playing patty-cake with Graham.

  “Going to what?"

  “Go out with him again. Go to bed with him.”

  Maxine was glad Polly’s attention was on the baby, because she could feel how fiery hot her face was. “We’re taking the kids to the petting zoo at Stanley Park.”

  “Petting, huh? When?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  "The petting zoo. This guy has some warped notion of where to take a date; I’ll say that for him. Maybe you’d better bring old Harry by the house so I can meet him, this is getting serious. I want to know who Graham’s spending his time with, and I’ve got a few questions for this dude, like could I have a written outline of what his intentions are toward you and my sweetie here.”

  Maxine pretended nonchalance. “He’s coming to pick us up in the morning; you can grill him then.”

  “I fully intend to.”

  The next morning Maxine was sorry she’d ever joked about it. She should have told Harry she’d be out on the curb, and he could just scoop her and Graham up without stopping the car.

  When the doorbell rang promptly at nine- fifteen, Edna and Polly were both hovering nearby like Victorian duennas.

  Edna, who’d insisted she’d stay on for the morning and take calls for Maxine, must have unplugged the business phone, because it certainly wasn’t ringing the way it usually did in the morning. Polly, who was always barking orders or advice into her cell by at least eight-thirty, must have told her secretary to hold her calls. And her laptop was nowhere in sight.

  Just before she opened the door, Maxine whispered to them, “Don’t you two have something to do?”

  They both gave her innocent looks and wicked grins, and shook their heads in unison. “We're on a mission,” Polly stated, adding, “Harry’s toast.”

  Maxine tried to plaster on a pleasant expression as she swung the door wide, but Polly's threat made her nervous.

  “Harry, hi come on in. Hello, Sadie, what a pretty sundress; I love hot pink.” God, she sounded like a simpering fool.

  She
made the introductions, wondering if Harry really looked as handsome as she thought, or if it was only her imagination. He was wearing khaki shorts and a white golf shirt; his jaw was clean-shaven, his thick hair neatly brushed. And when he looked at her, she saw the admiration she felt reflected back in his dark blue eyes.

  “Hey, Sadie, you want to come in the kitchen and get some snacks for your picnic?" Edna made off with Sadie, and Maxine gave Polly a suspicious look.

  The lawyer had schemed to get Harry alone, Maxine was sure of it. Polly knew Graham had filled his diaper two seconds before Harry arrived. She’d probably put the baby up to it, Maxine thought grimly, taking Graham and racing down the hall, leaving Harry totally at Polly’s mercy.

  Maxine whipped off the soiled diaper and had a new one in place in record time. She shoved spare clothing and diapers in the bag willy-nilly, then scurried back into the living room, expecting to find Harry being flayed alive by Polly’s tongue, or worse yet, having to sign a legal declaration of his intentions.

  To her amazement, he was smiling, looking relaxed and comfortable, lounging on the sofa.

  “Can you believe this guy knows my brother Rob? They played rugby together," Polly announced.

  "On opposing teams," Harry corrected. “I haven’t played since Sadie was born, so I haven't seen Rob for a few years. How’s he doing?”

  "He married a ball breaker of a teacher from Edmonton. You can bet she keeps him in line.”

  "Rob was one hell of a rugby player. He broke my arm once during a game.”

  Polly beamed as if it were a compliment. “Rob was never much of a fighter at home; he burned it all off with the rugby team. I could bully him around with no trouble at all.”

  "I met Darcy a couple times, too. Where is he now?”

  "He’s a firefighter in Winnipeg, he married right out of high school. He and Lucy have two kids, boys. They’re practically grownup.”

  Polly actually looked mellow, and Maxine figured it was time she and Harry made their escape, before Polly’s protective instincts kicked in and she remembered to give Harry the third degree.

  “I’m ready, Harry.”

  He got to his feet. “Give Rob my best when you talk to him. Tell him if he’s ever in town to give me a call.”

  Edna came out of the kitchen and winked at Maxine.

  Harry took Graham from Polly, and Maxine grabbed Sadie and the bag of snacks. In a moment they were safely out the door and in the car, heading for the park.

  “I like your friends," Harry remarked, reaching across the seat and taking Maxine’s hand. He squeezed it and then placed it deliberately on his thigh, sending shivers up her spine.

  “Edna’s the lawyer, right? And Polly’s your employee. God, it’s such a coincidence, Rob’s sister working for you.”

  Maxine shot him an incredulous look. “Think again. Polly works for me, but she’s my lawyer, and she’s a barracuda, a good barracuda, but not someone you ever want on your case. And Edna’s a wicked sexy genius at thinking up X-rated scenarios to keep the phone customers happy. You oughta hear her; she's fabulous.”

  Harry's jaw dropped. “How wrong can a guy get? Edna? Edna does . .. But then, the way she is on the phone isn’t really her personality anyhow, any more than India McBride is yours.”

  A short time ago, Maxine would have agreed with him that India was just a figment of her imagination.

  She stole a glance over at her hand, resting on his bare, muscular leg. The thick mat of soft hair tickled her palm, and the heat of his skin seemed to radiate all the way up her arm. She could feel his muscles contract and release as he stopped at lights and accelerated again. She imagined those muscles contracting for a different reason. She envisioned what he’d look like without the shorts, and a shudder ran down her spine.

  The daydream made her squirm in her seat. Her breasts ached the way they had when she was feeding Graham, but this feeling was anything but maternal. She felt swollen and hot and damp with desire. She wanted sex. She wanted sex with Harry, the sooner the better. The urge was so powerful that if it hadn’t been for the children in the backseat, she’d have made a grab at him right here on Burrard Street.

  Harry was dead wrong, she thought with a secret smile, and when the time came, she’d prove it to him. There was a good deal of succulent, wild India mixed in with good old Maxine, and she couldn’t wait to show him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “It was great for me, too, lover. It was so powerful I’m still shaking. You’re the best, Clarence. Call me again soon, won’t you?” Edna was placidly finishing the sleeve of a blue sweater, and the soft click of her needles contrasted with her breathless voice and the sexually graphic scenes she’d just enacted.

  The performance had Polly mesmerized, which was a good thing, because her injured leg was itching like fury and any diversion was welcome.

  “Edna, you ever get turned on when you’re doing that?” she asked after Edna hung up.

  "Knitting? Nope.” Edna’s grin was mischievous.

  "Of course not knitting, idiot.” Polly stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes, and Edna laughed.

  “Not usually," she said. She thought for a minute and then shot Polly a shy glance over the top of her half-moon glasses. "There is this one guy, though. It must be pure chemistry, because when I’m talking to him, yeah, I do get turned on sometimes.”

  “So what does it? What he says, the way he says it, the tone of his voice, what?”

  “It’s partly his voice, it’s low and rich and slow. And he has this laugh that seems to come rippling up from deep inside him. And he treats the whole thing like a game; he sees the humor. But it’s also just him. He’s honest about being lonely; his wife died four years ago and he misses sex.”

  "You ever thought of actually meeting him?”

  "Lordie, no.” Edna studied her knitting, but Polly noticed that color stole up her neck. "I’m just his fantasy. He calls every week or so.” She laid down her needles and patted her ample hips. "He’d be shocked out of his mind if he realized what Lilith actually looks like.”

  "Don’t put yourself down.” Polly privately thought a beauty makeover would do Edna a world of good. “Maybe he’s exactly your type. Look at Maxine and Harry."

  Edna shook her head. “I’d be too embarrassed to meet him. He thinks I’m twenty four and I measure thirty-six, twenty-six, thirty- eight.” Her smile was wry. “He’s a senior, his heart might not stand the shock of the real me.”

  "You think you'll ever get into another relationship, Edna?” Having a broken leg left way too much time for thinking.

  “After John left, I swore I wouldn't. But now I get lonely. I liked being married. I was good at it, and I don’t think all men are like John.” She looked pensive. "But I have no idea where I'd ever meet someone. I go to the library, the cinema, and here.” She shrugged. “Not exactly a singles beat, huh?”

  “What about a personal ad?” Polly, bored out of her skull the last few weeks, had perused the personals on the Internet, amazed at the variety.

  Edna looked doubtful. “I’d have to lose weight before I could meet anyone.”

  “No, you wouldn’t; you’re sexy the way you are. All you really need to do is maybe get Terry to style your hair, buy some new clothes. We could do that on the Internet, too. There’s all sorts of shopping sites.”

  “Really? You’d help me get a new look? I wanted to ask you that time you did Maxine for her first date with Harry, but I figured it was maybe kinda hopeless. And I don't have a lot of money to splurge with, either.”

  "That’s gonna change now that I have that court order for copies of Gimbel’s telephone and credit card records. We’ll confirm what he spends and see if there are calls to banks in foreign jurisdictions at the start or end of each month. He’s hidden money away somewhere, and by God I’ll find it. We’re makin’ headway, my friend.”

  “I hate going through this," Edna confessed. “It’s demeaning to fight for money from the man who
fathered your kids and promised to love you forever."

  “Yeah, well, we expect too much of men. Most of them are permanently damaged by testosterone.”

  Edna giggled. “But Harry seems like a nice man, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he’s one of the rare few who doesn’t make me want to hit him with something heavy.”

  Edna nodded slowly. “How about Dr. Turner? Does he turn you on, Polly?”

  Polly shook her head vigorously. “He pisses me off. He makes me crazy. He frustrates me to death.” Polly thought about Bruce and scowled. “Besides all that, he’s obviously not very bright. I insult him and refuse to go out with him and he just keeps right on phoning. Wouldn’t you think he’d get the picture?"

  “But does he turn you on?”

  Edna could be single-minded and downright maddening at times. Polly opened her mouth to deny it, and then heard herself say what she’d been afraid to admit.

  “Well, yeah. Maybe a teensy, tiny bit.” Her voice was plaintive, and that surprised her too. “That's what makes me so damned mad.” She slammed her hands down on her crutches. “I don’t want to be turned on by a bloody doctor, not even a little bit.”

  Edna’s knitting needles were flying, but she didn’t have to look at what she was doing, which always amazed Polly. She was watching Polly’s face instead.

  "He’s a baby doctor, and you know how much you like babies. And all doctors aren’t alike. Don’t judge Bruce by your father, Polly. Don’t judge the future by the past. I did that for years when I was married to John. I thought just because we’d been together so long, we always would be.” Edna switched needles without looking.

  How did she do that?

  “It took me a long, hard time to realize that life is change, that nothing stays the same forever, that nothing even needs to be the way it was in the past in order to survive.”