by Nicola Marsh
Physically, she was a major turn-on but it was more than that. He’d never met such a vibrant woman, her quick wit making him waver between laughing one minute to strangling her the next.
He’d convinced himself walking away in a week would be easy. Instead, he found himself torn by a business decision that should’ve been a no-brainer.
His interest in Sierra had made him go soft and it could cost him.
Big time.
Sierra slipped off her shoes and switched on the percolator for her usual end of day coffee when the doorbell rang. Several times.
“If that’s you making all that racket, Slick, you better have a darn good excuse,” she said, flinging open the door with a ready smile.
She’d grown used to having Marc drop by for a coffee and a chat after work. She looked forward to it. Stupid, considering he’d be gone this time next week.
“Sorry to disappoint, only me.” Flo thrust a bag toward her. “But I come bearing gifts.”
Sierra opened the bag and inhaled. “With your famous macadamia and apricot cookies, you’re welcome anytime. And of course I’m not disappointed it’s you.”
Even if a small part of her was she’d never admit it to the woman who’d become a surrogate mom after Dolores had left for Nepal.
Sierra stepped back and beckoned Flo in. “Why are you using the front door when you usually sneak in the back?”
Flo’s startled expression bordered on hilarious as she crossed the threshold, glancing at the front porch as if seeing it for the first time.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be blowed,” Flo muttered, shaking her head as she followed her into the kitchen. “Guess this confirms it.”
“Confirms what?”
She poured Flo her usual short black and set the cookies on a plate between them.
“I’ve lost the plot. Gone ga-ga. One kangaroo short in the top paddock.”
Sierra chuckled as Flo took a seat at the kitchen table. “That’ll be the day. You’re sharper than anyone I know.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before Will.”
“Will? You’re not sick?”
The thought of Flo ill enough to make out a will sent a stab of fear through her. She loved the old lady, weird Aussie-isms and all.
Flo stared morosely into her coffee cup. “I’m sick all right. Sick to fancy a man at my age.”
A man? Sierra struggled to hide her shock. In the years since Flo’s husband Charlie had died she’d heard nothing but Flo rejoice over her widow status. Flo loved being on her own, would shout it from the rooftops to anyone within coo-ee, Aussie-speak for hearing distance.
Though Flo hadn’t said this mystery man was a romantic interest. Perhaps some guy was hassling her?
“A man?”
“Yeah, told you it was sick.”
“Anything I can do?”
“That’s why I’m here.” Flo sighed and set her untouched coffee on the table. “I was hoping you’d help me.”
“Anything for my favorite neighbor.”
Sierra didn’t understand Flo’s sly wink.
“We both know that’s not true.”
Sierra had more trouble than usual keeping up with Flo’s waffling. “’Course I’ll do anything to help you.”
“Not that. Me being your favorite neighbor?” Flo shook her head. “I reckon someone else holds that honor, not that I blame you. Young Marc’s a bit of all right and not just in the looks department.” She tapped her temple and nodded knowingly. “Loads of grey matter, a real thinker. He’s going to make some wise woman a great husband one day.”
To Sierra’s annoyance, heat crept up her neck into her cheeks. Damn fair coloring. She needed to deflect Flo’s astute gaze and fast.
“This man of yours? My help?”
Thankfully, Flo followed her lead. “Oh yeah. Will.”
Flo stood and paced the kitchen as if uncertain how to proceed, before coming to an abrupt halt in front of her.
“See this?” She pointed to her wiry grey curls. “And this?” She tugged at her faded, lint-covered cotton sweatshirt that had seen better days. “They need to go and you’re the woman to help me.”
“I’m not following.”
Flo rolled her eyes and flopped into the chair opposite. “For an astute young woman, you can be pretty dense at times.”
Sierra quirked an eyebrow. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
Flo shook her head and pressed several fingers against her eyes as if trying to clear her vision.
“Sorry, love. I’m not myself. It’s crazy. I opened the door, there he was. Made me feel all gooey inside. Who’d believe it? It doesn’t make sense.”
None of this made sense but Sierra waited for Flo to continue.
“I’m in a tizz. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I can’t even talk civil to my friends.” Flo’s hands dropped to her lap, only to start fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. “I need a new look. Something to improve the old me. Think you can help?”
“You want a makeover?”
Flo nodded, her grey bangs tumbling over her forehead in disarray. “New hair, make-up, clothes, the works. You always look a million bucks so you’re the woman to help me.”
“Wouldn’t Belle be better qualified for the job? She’s the beauty expert.”
Though she’d do anything for Flo, Sierra had her hands full at the moment. Business was booming, Love Fest was this weekend and she had Uncle Hank’s wedding to plan, despite stalling.
Not to mention spending every spare second with City Boy. After that night on Mount Eros she’d come to a decision to make every moment with him count; if it didn’t lead anywhere at least she could say it was fun while it lasted.
“No, I want you to do it.” Flo folded her arms, a mutinous expression on her wrinkled face. “You’re just the person I’m looking for.”
“Why?”
When Flo glanced away and couldn’t look her in the eyes, she knew her neighbor was up to something. “No reason.”
Sierra leaned across the table and clicked her fingers in front of Flo’s face. “Spill. What aren’t you telling me?”
Flo held out for all of two seconds. “I need all the help I can get with Will and you can give it to me.”
Sierra sighed. “At the risk of being called dense again, how?”
“You’re already close to his boss. Maybe a few subtle questions here and there will get me some inside info. Then presto.” Flo snapped her fingers. “With some war paint to cover these wrinkles, dye and a haircut, plus some new duds to hide the flab, and a clue or two as to what Will likes and doesn’t like, I’ll have a chance with the old fossil for sure.”
“I know Will’s boss? Who—”
As the pieces of the puzzle slid into place Sierra’s hand flew to her mouth, whether to hide her shock or stifle a laugh she didn’t know.
Flo’s Will had to be William, Marc’s butler. She’d heard Marc mention he dropped work off to him every day but she never imagined Flo had met him let alone fancied him.
“You’re interested in William Jamieson?”
“Yep.” Flo’s grin could’ve illuminated a dark room. “His name’s a bit of a mouthful. Reckon he doesn’t shorten it to impress people, though all that high-falootin’ stuff doesn’t make me like someone.”
She shook her head, grey curls springing in all directions. “Uh-uh. I consider the whole package.”
Sierra held up her hand before Flo could go into greater detail about William’s package.
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
Flo shrugged, endearingly bashful. “Call it senility but when I opened my front door and saw him standing there all prim and proper, I felt sick.”
“And this is good because?”
Flo focused on her ragged cuticles, picked at them. “When you get to my age, you don’t get that drop-away tummy feeling very often. You know the one?”
; Oh yeah, she knew. Sierra’s belly churned every time she heard Marc’s voice let alone caught a visual.
“I know it doesn’t make sense but we’ve made small talk every day when he’s brought Marc’s papers and I like chatting to him. He’s knowledgeable for an old fella. And not wrapped up in himself like the other ancient coots in this town.” Flo’s eyes misted over. “So rather than letting him walk away and forget all about me, thought I’d take a shot at making a fool of myself in earnest.”
A lump of emotion lodged in Sierra’s throat. Flo finding happiness at this stage of her life was incredibly heartening.
Flo squirmed, darting uncertain glances her way. “Will you make me over?”
Sierra nodded and reached out to squeeze Flo’s hand. “Sure. Belle can lend a hand too.”
Relieved, Flo slumped. “Don’t forget to get Marc onside too. Getting inside info should do the trick in finding out what makes a man of Will’s ilk tick.”
“You’re rhyming.”
Flo’s loud cackle made her jump. “Told you I was going bonkers.”
Sierra doubted Marc would be willing to offer any information about William. The last thing he’d want is his butler leaving his heart in Love and maybe prompted to follow suit. Not that she wouldn’t try. It’d be fun goading City Boy into giving up any tidbits of information about William. The expression on his face when she first told him would be priceless.
“Good, now that’s all settled I’m off.” Flo leaped from the chair like a woman half her age. “Let me know when we can get started on this makeover business. Preferably tonight.”
“How are the ankles? You seem to be moving a lot quicker.”
Sierra had never seen Flo move faster than a snail’s pace even when working at the diner and she’d had to endure many an hour hearing all the gory details about her arthritic ankles.
To her amazement, Flo blushed. Nothing ever embarrassed her and seeing her lined cheeks rosy tinged was another first.
“Must admit, all this excitement has put a spring in my step. Who has time to worry about aching joints when I’m combating dementia for looking at a bloke twice let alone fancying him?”
Sierra chuckled as she ushered Flo toward the back door. “I’ll organize a few things and we can start your transformation tonight. Deal?”
“Deal.”
As Sierra opened the door, Marc had his hand raised ready to knock.
“What are you two ladies conniving about? Making backroom deals?”
Flo’s blush deepened as she muttered something about going to work and rushed out the door, leaving Marc swiveling his head between the two of them.
“I was kidding.”
Sierra held the door open wider and he followed her into the kitchen. “She’s in love. Coffee?”
“Please.” He sat. “This isn’t one of your weird local jokes? The one about everyone being in Love?”
She placed a mug in front of him and pushed the plate of cookies across the table toward him.
“No joke. Flo really does have the hots for someone and you’ll never guess who.”
“Couldn’t guess in a million years.” He took a generous sip of coffee and selected a cookie. “Despite the constant stream of introductions every time I set foot in town, I don’t know everyone yet.”
He took a bite and sighed in appreciation. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Will.”
He demolished the rest of the cookie, took another. “Don’t know him.”
Sierra smiled, enjoying her role as the deliverer of bad news. For that’s how City Boy would no doubt see it.
“Yeah, you do.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he tried to place the name. “Will? Nope, don’t know any Wills. Only person close to that is William…” he trailed off as comprehension dawned in his charcoal eyes. “Shit no…”
His frowned deepened at her sickly sweet smile.
“Shit yeah. Looks like your butler has made quite an impression on your landlady. Pretty romantic, if you ask me.”
“Who asked you?”
He laid the second cookie on the table, untouched.
“Flo did. She wants my help in the beauty department. And she wants me to butter you up for some inside info on William.”
She chuckled at the pained expression on his face, waited until it slowly gave way to a reluctant grin.
“Flo and William?”
He blinked several times, as if trying to erase the image of the two of them together.
“Ain’t love grand?”
He shook his head, joined in her laughter. “It’s this dumbass town. Makes people do crazy things.”
“I don’t see you doing anything particularly nutty.” Worse luck. Though what did she expect him to do? Throw in his job, give up his lifestyle and move to Love?
Like that would happen this century. She’d given up believing in fairy tales a long time ago and now her Prince Charming would ride off into a Malibu sunset in a few days, leaving her little choice but to go back to kissing a lot of frogs.
“Wouldn’t be so sure,” he said, staring into his coffee as if searching for guidance from the grinds.
“What’s on your mind, Slick?”
“Business.”
Short, sharp, ominous.
They didn’t discuss their respective jobs much as a rule; he changed the subject when she probed about A-Corp and didn’t seem interested in hearing about her lonely hearts. Not that she cared; she preferred not to think about his occupation and the fact it appeared to be his one and only love apart from his mom.
Besides, they usually found plenty of other things to talk about, like their opposing views on politics, religion, philosophy and baseball. They argued about practically everything yet she knew he found their discussions as stimulating as she did. Otherwise he wouldn’t keep coming back. And he wouldn’t keep kissing her goodbye.
If she could call the chaste pecks he dropped on her lips kisses. Since that unforgettable kiss on Mount Eros when he’d jumped her, they hadn’t shared much more than a friendly clash of lips and it was slowly but surely driving her insane.
She wanted passion. Mad, crazy, lusty passion, the kind that made him tear her clothes off as he came in the door and take her up against the wall.
Time was running out and they acted like a married couple, complete with constant bickering but without the great make up sex later.
Maybe it was time to take matters into her hands, literally? The thought alone made her blush.
“Anything I can help with?”
He looked at her strangely, as if noticing her heightened color but not mentioning it. “No. How was your day?”
“Fine, dear, how was yours?” She replied in a high-pitched drone. “Hang on a sec. Let me get these curlers out of my hair and make sure your dinner is warm before I bring you the newspaper and your slippers.”
“Very funny.”
“Actually, it isn’t.”
She smoothed imaginary creases from her skirt, wondering if what she was about to do was a good idea. Rocking the boat could cause a tidal wave of passion that carried them to heaven or a tsunami that swamped them and wreaked havoc on their tenuous relationship.
She took a deep breath and continued. “We’ve become predictable.”
If he’d been stunned by her news about Flo and William it had nothing on his stupefied expression now.
She rushed on. “Don’t get me wrong, I like having you drop by every day but since Mount Eros you’ve backed off.”
He folded his arms and leaned back, the classic defensive pose alerting her to the fact he hadn’t received her flash of honesty too well.
“We’re friends. We hang out, have the occasional coffee, rib each other about anything and everything. How can that be backing off?”
Physically, that’s how!
“Guess I thought there was something more going on.”
Now she’d started down this track, she had no choice but to follo
w through. “You know, after those kisses…”
She deliberately didn’t say more, hoping he’d pick up her thread of conversation and run with it.
“You want me to say I’m attracted to you?”
Not quite what she’d expected but a start. As much as she didn’t want to have this conversation it would settle the question of whether this thing between them was a result of wishful thinking on her part or something more, something that could set their world alight given half a chance.
“I want you to say exactly what you’re thinking.”
He fixed her with a piercing stare, the one he’d given her when they’d first met, the kind of stare to see right through her, all the way to her deepest secrets.
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned toward her. “Fine. I’m thinking the more time I spend with you the harder it is to keep my hands off you. I’m thinking every time I sit across this table from you I’d like to sweep everything onto the floor and bend you over it. I’m thinking you’re so goddamned addictive I’ll never be able to have enough of you. There, satisfied?”
Happy-dancing on the inside, she struggled not to yell ‘Yay! He likes me!’ But she wasn’t in high school and having a boy like her wasn’t enough. With sexual tension taut between them this time she wanted to go all the way.
“Satisfied? Hmm…let me think.” She tapped her bottom lip, pretending to ponder, before sending him a sizzling look from beneath lowered lashes. “I would be if you followed up on some of those thoughts.”
Before she could blink he’d hauled her across the table and into his arms, ravishing her mouth with an intensity that left her breathless.
The sounds of breaking china as mugs hit the floor barely registered as she slid her arms around his neck and hung on, needing an anchor in a world turned topsy-turvy.
“You’ve got a smart mouth, Angel Face,” he broke the kiss long enough to murmur as his lips trailed hot, moist kisses across her jaw line towards her ear.
“And yours is divine, Slick.”
She tilted her head back, exposing her neck to his talented tongue, desire slamming through her, turning her insides to liquid heat.
His hands were everywhere, tugging at clothes, skimming her skin, creating an erotic whirlpool that promised to suck her into its vortex until she screamed with the pleasure of it.
