Cursed by Love

by Jacie Floyd

  “I mean it, Uncle Harold. You took the petty cash yesterday, just like you have repeatedly, but that wasn’t the worst part. You left a kid who doesn’t know half of what you know about programming to do your work. It nearly cost us the Quigley project, and we can’t afford that.”

  Harold shrugged off Gabe’s concern. “Dominic’s a bright kid. He spoke computer code before he spoke English. He reminds me of you in a lot of ways, except he has more style. I got him started with the data and thought he could handle it.”

  As Gabe took a deep breath and prepared to explain one more time what was wrong with Harold’s actions, his uncle forestalled him. “Lighten up, kid. It’s only money.”

  “That money goes to keep us all off the streets.” Childhood memories of moving in the dark of night to avoid bill collectors, or coming home from school to no electricity were enough to make Gabe reach for the antacids. “I’ll lighten up after we make a success of this business. When I know Granddad, Sierra, Chloe, and the others are taken care of, I’ll have some fun again. But until then, I won’t have you continually screwing us over. You can either go back to Gambler’s Anonymous tonight, or you can start packing your things.”

  “Hypocrite.” Harold smirked. “You were having plenty of fun outside a few minutes ago. The little blonde wasn’t my type, but she looked beddable enough. Don’t try and tell me that was all about business on the Volkswagen.”

  “I’m not telling you anything, because what I do in the few minutes I allow for my personal life isn’t your concern.” He felt a twinge about that one, seeing as what he was doing with Molly carried too many ulterior motives to count. He probably wouldn’t be trying to woo Molly if it weren’t for the Sleeping Lotus and the money it would bring.

  He might want to, but he didn’t have the time or money for a social life these days. And a woman like Molly was a distraction he couldn’t afford in either area.

  Or was she? He thought of the kiss they’d shared that first afternoon, and the one they’d shared today. He had to admit there was an indelible connection between the two kisses, between Gabe and Molly.

  “What you did in your personal life in the last twenty-four hours did have an immediate and tangible effect on the business. You’re a talented programmer, intuitive and creative, I’ll give you that. We can use your help around here. But don’t screw up again, or you’re out.”

  “You can’t toss me out.” Harold rose slowly to his feet, drawing himself to his full height. “Dad would never allow it.”

  “Don’t make Granddad take sides between us,” Gabe warned, not really certain whose side the old man would choose. Flaws or not, warts or not, Harold was Granddad’s son, and family loyalty was his religion. “You’ve had plenty of chances. You knew the rules when you signed on to help. No more gambling on company time or company money, or you’re gone.”

  “We’ll see about that!” Harold marched from the office.

  If Gabe’s office had a door, he felt pretty sure his uncle would have slammed it.

  The day after Molly’s near ménage à trois with Gabe and her car, she slurped down a Jell-O shot and laughed with her friends at the patter provided by the perky Babes in Toyland’s representative.

  “For those times when you’re in a do-it-yourself mood, or when your partner isn’t up to ‘finishing’ the job,” enthused Janelle with a waggle of pencil-thin eyebrows. “Simply place the bunny’s nose on your, um, hot button, turn him on with a twist of his tail, and let the Frisky Rabbit go to town. You won’t believe what his little ears do at the same time!”

  Molly slurped down a Jell-O shot and laughed along with the other women at the Babes in Toyland party. Janelle demonstrated the hand-held device against the fuzz of an unsuspecting peach. “Ladies, don’t listen to the old Stones tune, ‘I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.’ Play Justin Timberlake’s game and bring sexy back with the Frisky Rabbit. Or with this handy little companion tool we call the Tickle-Me-Happy.”

  Janelle exhibited other gadgets from the array of sex toys, but Molly looked at her watch. She’d agreed at the last minute to attend this in-home party hosted by Lindsay, one of the other teachers from school. Vibrators, edible panties, and other sex simulating and stimulating tools weren’t normally her kind of thing.

  But she’d been solo for several months now—ever since William had dropped her like a bad habit—and the idea of a utilitarian vibrator held a certain appeal. Now, on her fourth Jell-O shot, some of the more exotic toys were starting to catch her attention.

  “Much less trouble than a man, believe me.” Janelle activated the gyrations of another intriguingly twisted piece of pliable plastic. “You turn this baby off and put it in a drawer when you’re done with it—until you’re ready for more. No snoring. No hogging the covers. No heartache.”

  “But no snuggling either,” Lindsay added, a little wistfully. She’d recently been dumped by her boyfriend, too.

  “Right.” Molly eyed, eyeing the cold and isolating personal appliances. “They’re about as cozy as a toaster.”

  “How many men really like to snuggle?” Janelle asked.

  “Not mine,” a gym teacher named Vera complained. “When Jerry’s done, he rolls over and reaches for the TV remote.”

  “My Greg doesn’t even bother to turn the TV off,” Lindsay’s sister, Marnie, confided. “His idea of multitasking is watching the game while he gets his rocks off.” She swirled her tongue through another Jell-O shot. “Men! They have all the romantic sensibilities of a toilet seat.”

  William hadn’t been as bad as Molly’s friends’ partners, but he had been rather, um, uncreative in his lovemaking. With his departure, she’d sworn off men and sex. But late at night, she often woke up craving the touch of a man’s body next to hers. And not just for the physical act or the climax. She also craved someone to ease the loneliness.

  Invariably this past week, the face to fit the cravings had been Gabe’s.

  Sometimes he dominated her thoughts during the daylight hours, too. That could be dangerous, considering they were going out the next night. Alone together, one on one, with none of the distractions that had cropped up between them in the past. Except for the phone he used incessantly.

  She wasn’t a prude, but she’d never been the kind of girl to sleep with a man on the first date either. Normally, she placed more value on the acts building up to intimacy than she did on a night of smokin’ hot monkey sex. Although hot monkey sex had its merits, she enjoyed the slow dance of flirtation that led up to the main event as much as she enjoyed the main event itself. Usually.

  But she couldn’t stop thinking about the clench they’d shared the day before. His usual reserve had been stripped away, leaving her little doubt that his desire for her ran deeper and hotter than William’s ever had. At least on a physical level. Emotionally, he still erected a lot of barriers.

  Now that her libido had been jerked awake on the hood of her car, and she knew he wasn’t the overbearing, obnoxious jerk his phone-yelling had made him out to be, she was half-afraid she’d jump him and strip him the minute he arrived on her doorstep.

  Maybe one of these battery-operated gadgets would be just the thing to take the edge off. Hot bunny sex. It didn’t sound quite as appealing. With the number of sex toys buzzing on fruit all around the room, it took Molly a second to realize the cell phone in her pocket created a separate vibration.

  As she pulled it out and swiped to answer, laughter erupted around the room at Janelle’s latest demonstration. With her hand pressed over her free ear, she answered.

  “Molly?” Real heat started to pulse in any number of sensitive body parts as the life-sized embodiment of her desires said her name.

  “Just a second.” She stepped onto Lindsay’s tiny balcony and closed the sliding door behind her. “Okay, I can talk now.”

  “You’re not at home?”

  She pressed her cheek against the cool glass of the door. “No, I’m at a party.”

  “What kind
of party? Jewelry? Basket? Baby shower?”

  “It’s called Babes in Toyland.”

  “Would that be, um, Christmas stuff?”

  Why wouldn’t he let it go? That was Gabe. Inquisitive about everything. If she didn’t tell him, he’d probably Google the company. “No, it’s personal items. For women.”

  “Ah.” Pause. “Really?” A note of interest crept into his tone. “Babes in Toyland. I get it.” He cleared his throat. “Have you made any purchases?”

  Her cheeks warmed at the thought of the Frisky Rabbit. “Not yet.”

  “Well.” His voice dropped to a silky level of intimacy. “Don’t let me keep you.”

  “I have a few minutes.” She settled in a chair and peeked through the sliding door at her friends, passing around an item that looked like an ordinary, old-fashioned feather duster. Uh huh, not so ordinary or old-fashioned. There went a container of something sparkly. Janelle dampened an index finger with her tongue and dipped it into the container of Lik-M-Aid for adults. “What’s up?”

  “We need to discuss our plans for tomorrow night, but first, I want to tell you I received an interesting offer on the Sleeping Lotus today.”

  And just that fast, some of Molly’s sexual and alcoholic buzz fizzled. She bit her lip to keep from issuing a sharp objection. “Someone made you an unsolicited offer? Without knowing the provenance? Now why do I find that doubtful?”

  “Because you’re a suspicious individual and you don’t trust me?”

  “That’s probably not it. Who made the offer?”

  “One of those guys from the crowd at Your Grandma’s Attic.”

  “That’s weird.” The mental image of a gray sedan with tinted windows and an Ohio State bumper leapt to mind. “How did he know where to find you?”

  “He said he got my name from the appraiser, Googled me, found the company listing, and called.”

  “Really? Do you think someone from the show would give out your name? Wasn’t confidentiality part of the agreement?”

  “Yes, but that’s the way business goes sometimes. I wouldn’t be surprised if the appraisers work this angle to make extra cash. They may be restricted from contacting us directly, but work out side deals with third parties.”

  “Sounds unethical to me. I would’ve thought better of James than that,” Molly said. “How much was the offer?”

  “Six hundred thousand.”

  She heard the excitement in his voice. The amount of money sent chills down her spine. Six hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money for anyone, especially for a single elementary school teacher with house and car payments and a small business owner like Gabe with enormous responsibilities.

  “Wow. That’s more than James originally suggested. Wasn’t the caller worried about the provenance?”

  “I told him we’re still researching it.”

  “What did you tell him about the offer?

  “I told him it would be up to you.”

  Since her opinions on the subject were based strictly on sentiment and emotion, not logic or good sense, she hesitated. “I’m still not sure I want to sell.”

  “What will it take to convince you? A sign from above?” Frustration laced his comment. He lowered his voice, and she could picture him leaning in, focusing on the conversation with everything he had. “The pieces were meant to be together. I thought we agreed on that much at least.”

  “Right.” She did believe the pieces should be joined due to the legend. But he believed it because the pieces were worth so much more together, than apart. “That probably is the way to go, but I want to think about it.”

  “Don’t think too long,” Gabe said. “The buyer says he’ll take the offer off the table on Monday.”

  “Good to know.” Molly considered the deadline, fingering her way through the charms on her bracelet. “I’ll make a decision before then. We can talk more about it tomorrow.”

  “Fine,” he said, short and clipped. Then distantly, like he’d moved his mouth away from the phone she heard him say, “Just a sec, I’ll be right with you.” His regular volume resumed. “My cousin Lenny’s here. I have some new business I need to go over with him.”

  Another cousin? Let’s see. Male family members had been Terry, Dominic, Granddad, and Uncle Harold. “Have I met Lenny?”

  “No, he wasn’t here yesterday. He’s a clown.”

  “A clown,” Molly repeated. “As in funny ha-ha? Like a practical joker?”

  “As in red nose, baggy suit, big shoes.”

  Molly laughed. “He’s responsible for the balloon animals in your office, right?”

  “Probably, although almost everyone here knows how to make them. Even Chloe can produce a respectable dog or giraffe.”

  “That’s great.” She couldn’t help chuckling, although the Jell-O shots may have had something to do with it. “Where does he do his, um, clowning?”

  “He’s a member of the Shriners’ clown team. You’ve probably seen them. He rides in the back of a little car at parades and local fairs and stuff, but mostly he visits kids in hospitals.”

  “That’s pretty special.” From having her tonsils out when she was six, and from some of her students' more recent experiences, she knew how frightening and lonely hospitals could be for a child. “Your family is amazing.”

  “That’s one way to look at them.”

  “How do you look at them?”

  “Inescapable,” he said, after a long pause.

  She’d never heard a voice contain so much exhaustion before.

  Molly managed not to jump Gabe when he showed up on her door Friday night, but just barely. He looked tastier than anything she could imagine having for dinner. Apparently, she needed more than one mechanical rabbit-induced orgasm to knock the edge off the desire that revved her up every time she saw him.

  Uncertain if he’d be in a car or on his Harley when he picked her up, a lot of hand-twisting went into her clothing choice for the night. Finally, she’d decided on a little turquoise slip dress because the color looked good on her and it fit like, well, a slip, showing off her curves to best advantage. Plus, the outfit was neutral enough to go anywhere Gabe chose, dressy or casual. If he rode up on the Harley, she’d just have to change.

  But once she laid eyes on Gabe, she wished she’d gone with something dressier. Because he looked stunning. He’d gone all GQ on her, wearing a perfectly-fitted dark suit, white shirt with blue stripes, and a deep red tie.

  She wanted to tug the tie off him and rip open the buttons on that starched shirt. This was the first time she’d seen him in anything besides khakis or jeans. And this young executive look worked to his advantage. She took a moment to enjoy the view, but the simple bouquet of daisies in his hand took her breath away.

  She blushed like a schoolgirl as she accepted the flowers from him. “My favorite.” She gushed like no one had ever brought her flowers before. And she didn’t think anyone over the age of eight ever had, except for the mandatory corsages for high school dances. “They’re beautiful. So cheerful and springy. Come in while I put them in water.”

  Before she turned away, he reached out. “Wait.” He pulled one flower from the bouquet and tucked it behind her ear, brushing a light kiss across her lips. “Now, that’s beautiful.

  Blushing again, she stuttered over a thank you and resisted the urge to do the he-loves-me-loves-me-not petal test. She turned with the bouquet and took the moment to get a grip as she arranged it in a vase.

  The effort he’d made on his appearance and the thoughtfulness that went into bringing her flowers worked in making her even more attracted to him. More attracted than she’d been after the Volkswagen foreplay they’d shared on Wednesday. And that was saying a lot.

  The Volkswagen scenario had been basic chemistry at work. But this emotional response to these sweet and simple gestures shook her, lifting them beyond heated friction to something else. Something more tempting than sex. Or something more tempting than just sex, anyway.

>   Chapter Ten

  Molly knew little about automobiles, but she stopped and gaped at the one parked in her driveway. “What a darling car,” she said as he opened the door for her. “My dad would love this.” She stopped and looked at him sideways. “It must be worth a fortune.”

  “It is.” He chuckled, understanding her point. “It’s a vintage Porsche, and it belongs to my friend, Max. He bought it as a burned-out shell about three years ago and completely restored it. He’ll kill me if I take it back tomorrow with as much as a squished bug on the windshield.”

  When Gabe climbed behind the wheel of the classic car, she noticed that his socks had happy little Mickey and Minnie Mouses in tango, jitterbug, and waltz poses dancing across a dark background. Nothing too obvious or noticeable, but a whimsical touch of what she’d come to think of as the ‘real’ Gabe, the one beneath the buttoned-down exterior.

  “When I got dressed, I wondered if you’d be picking me up on your Harley.”

  He laughed. “I’d love to take you for a ride on my Harley.” The way he said it made the idea sound exciting. And a little bit dirty. “But it didn’t seem right for tonight.”

  She gulped, and mentally fanned her face. “I haven’t seen you drive anything else. Do you own a car?”

  “Not anymore,” he said. “I sold it when we started the company. Sierra needed a handicap-accessible van, and I’d rather ride than drive anyway.”

  She loved the way he made the gesture out to be personal preference rather than a help to his sister.

  “In general, maybe, but what about rain and snow and other bad weather?”

  “Granddad or other family members have cars I drive sometimes. Have you been on a bike before? It’s not for everybody.”

  “I’ve ridden a few times,” Molly said. “I love it, but it seems more like a special treat than everyday transportation.”

  “I spend so much time working, I don’t get to ride with my motorcycle club much anymore. It’s a shame to let a good bike sit. At least riding it as transportation gives me the chance to take it out on the highway occasionally.”