“I’d never turn down a cold brew on a day like today,” he said, and paid her with a kiss. “Just think,” he whispered in her ear, “tomorrow we’ll have the whole place to ourselves.”
A tingle of pleasure spread from her ear to every erogenous zone in her body. Amazing how only two nights spent together made those without him so long and lonely. His touch was more addictive than any drug, and his kisses made her long for more. She slid her arms around his neck and plastered her body against his, her face tilted up in a wordless demand for his mouth on hers. His long, sweet kiss made her blood heat and hum through her veins. She felt dampness begin between her thighs, and a soft moan escaped when Lance trailed kisses down her throat.
“Oh, my, you two. Are we too early?” Alice and Mike stood at the top of the back porch steps, both grinning at catching the couple embracing.
Marjorie attempted to untangle herself from Lance but he snugged her against his side with an arm around her waist. He obviously had no trouble with his buddies at work knowing he and she were an item, because for sure Mike would spread the word to everyone at WMES.
“Of course you’re not too early. Come have a seat, Alice, and let me get you something to drink. Red or white wine? Iced tea or soda? What would you prefer?”
Lance nodded at Mike. “A brew for you? Or wine? We’ve got plenty of both.”
Marjorie wondered if Lance realized that he’d begun to frame all of his sentences with “we” and “our”. As far as he was concerned, they were already the couple he and she were supposed to talk about becoming. She couldn’t stop the broad grin the implied status produced, to say nothing of the internal heat it generated.
Mike escorted his mom down the steps and over to a chair. “I’ll bring something over for you to nibble on, Mom.”
“I’d like a glass of red wine, Marjorie, thank you for asking.” Alice cast a fond glance at her son selecting items from the appetizers on the table. “Make sure to bring me one or two of the crab-stuffed mushroom caps, dear.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mother.”
Marjorie brought over a glass of wine that sparkled like rubies in the sunlight. “Try this Malbec, Alice. It’s heavenly.”
“Oh, thank you, Marjorie.” She took a sip. “You are right, dear, this is delicious. I must remember the name so I can get some at home.”
The two former college roommates came out wearing short shorts and halter-tops that left their midriffs bare. Ah youth, Marjorie thought, wishing her own body was as taut and firm as the two younger women.
“You’re sexier than either of those two,” Lance whispered in her ear as he came up behind her. “How about a glass of white for you? The hostess should enjoy this get-together too, you know.”
Marjorie leaned back, her shoulder blades brushing the hard muscles of his chest, and inhaled the spicy, sexy scent that was uniquely Lance. Are my feet actually touching the ground, or am I really walking on air? She accepted the frosted glass of pale golden liquid and said with her eyes what she didn’t want to voice out loud. I love you, Lance Fisher. And I can’t wait until tomorrow to show you just how much.
A smile twitched the corner of his mouth as Lance winked at her.
Tom Northland joined the group. The college girls stopped their chatter in mid-sentence. Marjorie worried that the blonde might actually drool, while the brunette fluttered her lashes rapidly enough to create a breeze.
“Nice of you to do this, Marjorie,” Tom said, his gesture taking in the long table filled with tempting goodies.
“Help yourself, Tom. What can we get you to drink?” Great, now she was using the plural pronoun. Their relationship felt so natural, so right, she couldn’t think of herself as a single person anymore.
“Is that a Corona I see sticking out of the ice over there?”
“It is.” Lance took it from the copper tub and popped the top. “Enjoy.”
Nodding his thanks, Tom picked up a plate and began to choose among the delicacies. Two seconds later, the college girls flanked him and began a conversation. Tom chatted politely for a while, then excused himself to find another beer—and strike up a conversation with Lance in self-defense.
The love of her life understood Tom’s ploy instinctively and led him over to Mike so they could discuss sailing boats. It seemed his earlier territorial responses to their guest had been forgotten, or at least set aside for the afternoon.
The Lancaster family showed up last, carrying Sally, who could barely keep her eyes open. One glimpse of Daisy gave her a renewed boost of energy though, and she squirmed in her daddy’s arms to get down and hug her favorite playmate. Her chubby arms were pink from the sun, and her mom attempted to apply more sunscreen—with all the success of someone attempting to grease a piglet.
Marjorie smiled at the frazzled state of the woman’s clothes and hair. “Doreen, let me get you something cold to drink. How about a glass of wine?”
“Thanks, but I’ll stick to iced tea right now.” She leaned in to Marjorie and lowered her voice. “I haven’t told Mark yet, but I’m pretty sure Sally is going to have a playmate in the spring.”
“Oh, how wonderful. Congratulations,” Marjorie whispered back. “Here, come sit down, and I’ll get you a glassful.” She steered Doreen toward a seat in the shade.
Lucky woman. Marjorie would love to have kids, a whole boatload of them if she had her way, but until recently that idea had seemed unattainable. Now the reality of her current situation hit her, and her heart expanded with excitement at the possibility of making a family with Lance. She glanced across the yard where the men were chatting and caught Lance smiling in her direction. He winked, and her heart took another leap for joy. Her grin was so wide she feared her cheek muscles would ache in the morning.
“Seems like you’ve hit the jackpot, too, Lance,” Mike said, elbowing him in the ribs. He nodded in Marjorie’s direction. “She’s one pretty woman, that’s for sure.”
Lance’s chest expanded. “I’m a lucky bastard, Mike. I never thought I’d find a perfect match, and I certainly don’t deserve her, but, hell if I’m not going to marry the lady.”
“Congratulations, man.” Tom added a slap on the shoulder and they all tapped their bottles together.
“I haven’t asked her yet, so don’t go spilling the beans.” He patted his pants pocket. “I picked up the ring yesterday, and, tomorrow, after all the guests have checked out . . .”
The three men shared a knowing grin.
The stranger tugged the ball cap lower over his eyes and wandered around the town square, taking pictures like a good tourist. The fancy telephoto lens on his camera allowed him to get shots that interested him from far away—without alerting his subject to the fact that her picture was being taken. Much less obvious than binoculars.
He still wasn’t absolutely sure Marjorie Matthews of Blue Point Cove was the former Sarah Beth Matthews of Corvalis, Oregon. A close examination of the high-resolution photos he’d taken this afternoon, plus the opinion of that washed-up former drunk staying at the equally washed-up motor court outside of town, would make it easier to decide. Once he was sure, the rest of his plan could be put in motion.
She was a clever woman to start a new life so far from home, with only her wits and hard work. Too bad all that effort would be wasted.
He knew how to disable the security system, and the sprinkler system, but the dog would be a problem. Best to do the deed when her live-in boyfriend took the dog for a walk. Not that he had any qualms about killing the man, or the dog, but the fewer bodies he had to deal with, the easier his job would be. He’d originally thought he could do it at night. The boyfriend must work nights, because he’d watched the guy drive away every night around ten-fifteen. That would still leave the dog, though, who might bark enough to draw attention. Nah, better to act when those two we
re both away.
That Victorian mansion was old. Built back in the day when beams, rafters, and floors were all wood, and walls were lath and plaster, the stately building was a veritable tinderbox. It wouldn’t take much to turn it into a torch.
Climbing back into his truck, he brushed his fingers across the box on the seat next to him. To a casual observer it appeared to be an ordinary Fed-Ex package, if you didn’t notice that the label had no return address on it.
Chapter 16
Marjorie closed the front door behind the Lancasters. It had taken extra time to separate Sally from Daisy. The toddler had to shed a few tears before she could bring herself to let go of the big dog. Daisy, obliging as always, offered her paw to the little girl in farewell.
Marjorie turned the lock on the front door, leaned against it, and sighed in relief. All of the guests were gone now. Finally. She climbed the stairs with a bit less speed than usual and began to strip the beds. Molly had come early, bless her, and had already cleaned two of the bathrooms. While the girl tackled the other two, Marjorie remade all the beds with fresh linens, folded up the portable bed Sally had used, and stored it in the big hall closet.
She gathered the towels and sheets to take down to the basement. The bundle of dirty linen was too large to fit into the dumbwaiter, and Marjorie could barely see around the armful as she trudged down the stairs.
As she got to the kitchen, she heard the key turn in the back door and saw the silhouette of Lance through the curtain. She waited, expecting the usual kiss he gave her whenever their paths crossed.
Lance took the bundle from her arms, opened the cellar door, and tossed the laundry down the stairs. Without a word, he turned to Marjorie, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her until the room spun and her knees grew weak. He trailed kisses across her cheek to the soft spot behind her ear, then sucked the lobe gently.
Heat shot through her, arrowing to her core and instigating a rush of fluid between her legs. Her panties were soaked in seconds, and she wanted them off. In fact, she wanted all of her clothes off, right here, right now. She whimpered against his mouth as his tongue slipped in and tangled with hers.
Breathless, she finally broke the kiss but kept her arms around Lance’s neck for balance. “Oh, God, I missed you.”
“No more than I, you.” He bent and scooped her up, ready to carry her up to her bed.
“No. Wait. Molly’s still here.” She pushed at his chest. “Put me down, Sir Lance. We have to wait until she goes.”
“You’re killing me, woman. I don’t want to wait.”
Marjorie could tell by the impressive bulge in his pants that he was ready to take her right here. She sighed. She wanted to make love with this man on every horizontal surface in the house, and even up against a vertical one, too. She’d never done it that way. So many new things to try with her tall, handsome lover. Her breasts ached to be freed from their confinement, her nipples, super-sensitized by his touch, peaked against the lace of her bra. This was torture. Sweet, sweet, torture. But, they’d have to wait a little longer.
“Okay, Molly will be finished in half an hour. Daisy needs a walk, and I have a mountain of laundry to start.” She gave Lance a wicked grin. “Let’s plan to meet right back here in thirty minutes and pick up where we left off.”
Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Thirty minutes. We’ll be back. Come on, Daisy, time for a walk.” He winked over his shoulder as he opened the door. “The clothes you’re wearing probably should go into the laundry, too.”
The heat in his gaze almost set them on fire. Her hands went to the top button of her shirt and slowly undid it.
Lance dropped Daisy’s leash and closed the distance to Marjorie in a single stride. “Don’t tempt me any more, woman,” he murmured, crushing her against his chest and thumbing a nipple through the thin material. “I have only so much self-control where you’re concerned.” He abruptly let her go and headed for the door.
Marjorie had to lean against the table to keep from sliding to the floor in a damp heap. She went to the foot of the staircase and called up, “Molly, I’m leaving your check on the hall table. Don’t forget to lock the front door when you leave. I’ll be in the cellar starting on Mount Saint Linen.”
“Okay, Ms. Matthews. I should be done in twenty minutes. Thanks again for the pair of earrings. You didn’t have to do that.”
“You deserved them for all of the help you gave me this weekend, Molly. Thank you so much for your time.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
Marjorie’s breaths quickened as she made her way to the basement. Amazing how anticipation could put the bounce back in her steps. Scooping up the pile at the foot of the stairs, she carried it to the washer and sorted the sheets and towels into separate loads, then started the first batch.
She hoped Tom Northland was right about more people coming to Blue Point Cove. If her business picked up, she might be able to afford a commercial-size washer and dryer by next year.
Lance and Daisy would be back soon, and she wanted to take a quick shower before . . . well, before whatever came next. Her foolish grin was back in place.
“Okay, Ms. Matthews, I’m leaving now,” Molly called down to her.
“Bye, Molly. Say hi to your mom for me.”
As the front door closed, Marjorie thought she heard Molly talking to someone else. She was probably already on her cell phone to one of her friends. Or maybe Lance and Daisy were back already. She saw the shadow of a pair of legs pass by the basement window, but with the frosted glass, she couldn’t make out if it was Lance. She headed for the stairs.
“Okay, Daisy, we’re gonna have to turn this walk into a run. Otherwise anyone who passes us may notice I have other things on my mind.” Lance began to jog down the driveway, Daisy keeping pace easily at his side.
The woman could get him hard with just a smile, and four nights alone made his dick stiffer than that oak tree in the backyard. The pair headed out toward the marina and around back of the buildings facing the square. He didn’t want to meet anyone and have to stop and chat, so he took the road that led toward the old Wyndham place. The summer crowd was dwindling and the few cars that passed were full of vacationers heading out of town.
After a mile or so, he slowed his pace to give Daisy enough time to find a spot to anoint, then turned back toward home. He smiled to himself. He wanted to call the sprawling Victorian home. His forever home with Marjorie at his side and a couple of kids in the yard. Yeah, life didn’t get any better than that.
As he and Daisy jogged up the driveway, he thought he saw someone crouched alongside of the house, peering through the cellar window.
What the . . .? He unsnapped Daisy’s leash and slipped his Sig from the holster at his back. The dog raced around the corner of the house, barking up a storm. He followed on her heels and saw a man cowering against the side of the house as Daisy snarled with bared teeth. A dark ball cap was angled down low enough to shadow most of the man’s face, so Lance took no chances.
“Turn around and face the wall,” he commanded. “Hands where I can see ’em.”
The man complied quickly, spreading his legs as well.
So he knows “the position.” Which can only mean he’s had run-ins with the law before. Lance kicked his legs farther apart and patted him down without lowering his weapon. “Who are you and what were you doing? Trying to find a way inside, maybe?”
“I didn’t mean nothing bad, man. I swear. I just wanted to see . . .”
“What?”
The man had on a faded pair of jeans, a dark-green T-shirt, and worn work boots. Lance grabbed the neck of the shirt and propelled him toward the back of the house. “What did you want to see?”
“I just wanted to see who lived here. That’s all.”
“And kn
ocking on the front door was too much trouble?” He pushed the man toward the porch with enough force to make him stumble. “Well, you’re going to find out, all right.”
Marjorie opened the door, her eyes wide with worry. “What’s going on, Lance? I heard Daisy and—” She stopped and stared at the man Lance was herding to the door.
“Let’s take this inside.” Where this fool won’t try to make a bolt for freedom. He marched the man up the steps and into the kitchen. If this was the guy Marjorie had been afraid of all these years, he must be off his game. No professional killer would have been this easy to subdue. Then again, time takes its toll on all of us, and maybe Marjorie’s panic left a bigger, darker imprint on her memory from all those years ago.
He sat the guy in a chair, and when he saw Marjorie gaping at his gun, he tucked it in the holster at his back. “Okay, buddy, off with the hat. And start talking.”
The man took off his hat to reveal a thinning thatch of gray hair. His face was weathered and his washed-out blue eyes held . . . tears?
Marjorie gasped and put both hands to her lips, her eyes wide in a face gone pale. “Oh, my God. It is you. I never thought I’d see you again.” She sank into the chair opposite the man.
“Yeah, it’s me, Sarah darlin’. I’ve been searching for you.”
Sarah? What the fuck? Lance grabbed the man’s shoulder. “There isn’t anyone named Sarah here. That woman’s name is Marjorie.”
“No. It’s Sarah Beth all right. I’d know her anywhere, even though she’s dyed her hair.”
“He’s right, Lance. My name is Sarah Beth.” Her eyes sought his, regret in their depths. “And this is my father.”
Stunned into silence by this announcement, Lance could only stare at the woman he thought he knew.
Is this is another secret Marjorie hasn’t seen the need to tell me? Did she know this joker was here in town? How many more surprises are there? Do I really know this woman at all?
Theirs by Chance Page 16
