by Owner
“He said you would. He told Sue it was an inside joke. A private gag and that you’d laugh.” She poked Maddie’s cheek upward with her finger. “You’re not laughing.”
Jon sharing jokes with her friends could only lead to an inevitable exchange of too much information. And then rumors. She feared enough rumors would fly before the year was out, and without his added input. Panic welled in her chest.
“I told you he was a stranger. He’s leaving in a day or two, and I’d just as soon all of us avoid him until then.”
A flicker of sunshine shimmered in Lyndsey’s red hair. “If we steer clear of the harbor, we have nowhere to hangout except Cubby’s or the park. But if you think so.”
“Oh, I think so. If you only knew.” Maddie shook her head. But then, wasn’t that what this was all about, making sure nobody knew?
Chapter Thirteen
“You have three messages,” Rodger, the cashier-registrar and apparent phone operator told Jon while he paid his lunch tab.
“Thanks and keep the change.” He waited for the man to close the cash box and hand him his phone memos.
But it didn’t work that way on the island as no pink slips exchanged hands. Rodger began rattling off the messages like a personal answering machine with fingers.
Holding up one finger, he said, “The mayor called and arranged a meeting at the town offices for tomorrow evening at six.” He flipped up a second finger. “Your brother-in-law phoned to say there’s still no delivery, and an oddity showed up in one of your accounts.” He lifted his third finger. “Sue invited you to watch the Bain’s play a rain-dated softball game against Cubby’s Cubs tonight at six and to be her guest at Cubby’s afterward.” Anticipating Jon’s next question, he said, “It’s the only park and playing field in town and should be easily recognizable on your map.” He smiled a skinny grin.
Jon leaned his hip against the boat-shaped desk. “Are you going?”
Rodger blinked his eyes and shivered. “No way. Those games can get violent. I hate to watch ladies scramble it up.”
“I guess I’ll venture a peek.”
After climbing the stairway to his room with its schooner ship décor, he unplugged his cell phone, which had refused to charge and still had no signal. Grabbing the hotel phone, he plopped down on the bed, bumping the back of his head against the teak, steering-wheel-shaped headboard. He pressed O for operator, rubbed his head, and stared up at the topsail canopy until Rodger answered. “Need an outside line?”
“Yes.” He waited for a dial tone and then punched in Craig’s cell number. He wondered if Sarah was any closer to delivering the baby and what account of theirs had what kind of inconsistency. The ringing stopped after several tries, but no one talked on the staticky other end. “Hello?” Jon quizzed.
“We’re on our way to the hospital,” Craig shouted through a buzz in the line. “I’ll call back when you’re an uncle. Goodbye.”
Click.
Sounded like Craig had everything under control on that end. At the moment, he was glad he’d let his sister talk him into this island junket. He hadn’t run into his mother’s lover, he’d met Maddie, and he wasn’t back home suffering through childbirth along with Sarah and Craig.
But for now, he had hours until the game started with nobody to talk to and nothing to do. He’d already toured the island twice. His laptop crashed his files when the rainstorm soaked it so he couldn’t scroll through and scan for whatever peculiarity Craig had noted. He was so rested, he could probably climb several corporate ladders and the learning curve. To top it off, his muscles burned from crunching a hundred sit-ups before breakfast so anymore exercise was out of the question.
Unless Maddie showed up to renegotiate the terms of their agreement. He’d unfurl his topsail and flaunt his rudder for her in a heartbeat. He could manage a few acrobatics for her sake and satisfaction, and his own. Doing her doggie-style took balance. Flexibility was needed for froggy style, and sideways, and criss-cross, and the lotus, and the crab. Soon he began making a mental list of more positions. The spoon, the pretzel, the snake, the rainbow arch, cat’s cradle, easy rider, and missionary. He couldn’t forget good old reliable missionary.
After a few minutes, he groaned. He was bored and had a boner. He’d never been bored before.
Not sure how to deal with the unfamiliar state, he bounced up from the bed and headed downstairs to the bar. He could talk to Rodger, as long as he detoured around topics concerning certain home run hitters who did physical therapy for a living and had blonde hair and violet eyes. And a body that made his brain fry and his testosterone spike.
Rodger was swabbing the Harbor Inn’s deck when he entered. The room smelled of stale beer and pine detergent and the combination helped his dick go limp. On one of the six, barrel-staved barstools sat a weary looking man. By his Stetson hat, Jon figured him for another tourist. As he sank down onto the stool next to the cowboy, Rodger made the introductions and set them up with a pitcher of a local draft beer before returning to his mop and bucket.
“How’d you get stuck here?” Harry, the Texan, asked while he poured the foamy brew into frosty mugs, and a blueberry aroma wafted up.
“Business that could’ve been handled long-distance.” Jon sipped at his beer. “Light taste, not bad.”
“Crisp,” Harry agreed, swigging down most of his mug and then swiping his top lip free of foam with the back of his hand. “My wife dragged me out here. She aims to paint every dang rock on every beachfront of the island from dawn till dusk. She’s finished the south forty so I figure she’s got three more days before she comes full circle.”
“I’m hoping tomorrow’s my last.”
“You’re lucky.” The man yawned. “Are you going to the game tonight? It’s the only entertainment other than watching the lighthouse light up or the inn’s fuzzy TV reception.”
“I heard the women get nasty.” Jon scratched his jaw. “I’m not sure what that means.” He didn’t figure Maddie for the vicious type. She seemed like such a softhearted woman.
“That sounds wild,” the Texan said. “Guess we should check it out. I don’t know much about savage women. Do you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m finding I know less about women by the day.” After slugging back a good gulp of beer, he studied the colorful lobster traps stacked against the wall as decoration. “Harry, do you know if smart women like pranks?”
“I guess it depends on the prank.”
“I’ve always dated women who liked laughs. Well, just about anything made them laugh. But this woman’s different.”
“They change by the hour.” The island-weary man leaned his elbows on the bar. “Mine can be a sourpuss one moment and a sweet kitten the next. But where would we be without their feline hormones?” He winked.
“So you think it’s a hormonal element and not a brainy one?”
“Yep,” he drawled, refilling his mug from the pitcher.
“Pulling this practical joke on her seemed like fun at the time. But now, I’m not so sure.”
“Kidding is an attention-getter.” Tugging his wallet from his back pocket, Harry flipped it open to a faded picture of two teenagers. “Me and the artist wife way back when. See me making horns with my fingers over her pretty head of brown curls? That’s an example of what I mean. Goes all the way back to grade school and pulling braids. Women expect it.”
“So I’m okay.” He grinned. Looked like last night’s lark with Sue to make Maddie jealous was fair play. Great. He liked staying worry-free where Maddie was concerned.
Next round he ordered a root beer. He didn’t want to be snookered when he met her later at the ball field.
By game time, his fellow tourist was feeling no pain. “I have a handle on where the park is. Want a lift?” he offered with a cringe, suspecting the parking lot would be dusty and dirty.
As soon as he swerved into the stony, gritty lot, his passenger pointed. “Over there, next to the monster truck is a spot.”
But he passed up the place to park in a vacant corner, well away from dinging car doors and high-flying balls from the field. Harry helped him snuggle his dust cover over the Jag.
A gusty breeze cooled the late afternoon as they strolled over to the bleachers. The Texan hung onto his cowboy hat and his last sweaty can of beer. He’d taken two for the road and had already slugged one down on the drive over from the inn.
The game was underway and the wooden stands were jammed with excited fans. “Here’s one.” Harry grabbed a seat on the end of a row, wriggling over one cheek at a time to make room for Jon.
Fans cheered loudly, “Come on Helgie. Hit one outta the park.”
A hefty pink Cub was up at bat. Jon scanned the makeshift wooden dugout across the field and spotted Maddie, looking flushed and sexy in her uniform. Her face had a sheen from exertion, much like she did right after she fucked him into oblivion. His heartbeat jacked up and his cock squirmed.
Despite the visor on her ball cap, she shielded her eyes against the sun while she shouted to Lyndsey, “You can strike out that Cub.”
The Cub looked more like a full-grown lion.
“Who are we rooting for?” Harry slurred his words a bit.
“The blue team,” he said with enthusiasm, and an unexpected, “Oomph.”
“Hey, lady, and I use the term loosely.” His sidekick turned to shake his fist at the woman seated above them. “Where do you get off smacking my friend with your purse?”
Jon flexed his shoulder. “It didn’t hurt much.” He tried to quiet down the cowboy-hatted crusader and head off a face-off with an irate Cub fan.
“That’s my daughter batting,” the lady who smelled of BenGay screeched in Harry’s ear, nudging him in the back with her fat, white purse.
“No need to spill my beer over it.” The man slurped up the liquid foaming over the top of his can. “I can see where her daughter gets her batting form.”
Jon lowered his voice. “I’m guessing the violent women are in the stands and not on the field.” And smelled of arthritic ointment. “Maybe we should switch bleachers.”
“We Texans don’t let anyone, and especially womenfolk, run us off.” Harry thumbed his chest, downed his beer, and yelled, “Remember the Alamo.”
Next thing Jon knew he was in the middle of a catfight with the biggest, baddest, geriatric lion in the stands. The man’s Stetson was holding its own against the batter’s mother, but bareheaded, he was getting lambasted by the grandmother.
“Take that and that.” She clobbered him with her pink, donut-shaped hemorrhoid cushion. He held his arms over his head, hoping she’d run out of steam soon. But just as she did, her granddaughter entered the fray while three more nieces took on Harry’s hat.
“Yeow,” the cowboy howled when the triplets started in.
Bad enough the men couldn’t defend themselves against the family of ladies, but unrelated male Cub fans in the stands started clapping and chanting, “Pink fink, pink fink, pink fink.”
He caught a glimpse of the ball field in between whomps. The game had halted. Players from both teams pointed up at them, snickering. Runners plopped down on the bases to sit out the ruckus. Blurs of blue and pink emptied from the dugouts to gawk up at the bleachers.
He knew somewhere amongst that blue flow, Maddie watched. She always seemed to be there to see him at his worst.
****
“Whose fans started the fight this time?” Maddie asked Sue, squinting up at the stands against the glare of the late afternoon sun. “Ours or theirs?”
“Looks like the Cubs. Hope Myrtle didn’t curse her granddaughter again. She didn’t even strike out yet.”
“Yeah, you’d think she’d wait to see. One of these days Helgie Junior is bound to connect with the ball.”
Lyndsey came jogging over from the pitcher’s mound, her cleats kicking up small puffs of dust. “Coach said some tourists sat on the Cub bleachers and tried cheering for the Bane.” She chuckled, slapping at her knee with her pitcher’s glove.
“Even tourists should know better that.” Sue shook her head.
“You would think.” Maddie brushed her hair back with her cap and fitted it to her head, wondering how many tourists were on the island besides Jon. Her insides melted, like hot butter, at the notion of him being close by. “Looks like the coaches and umpires are getting it under control.”
“Yeah, the crowd’s settling back down. Look, Myrtle’s waving her cushion and signaling she’s won.”
“That’s all those Cubs are winning tonight.” Lyndsey slapped the softball into the pocket of her glove. “If I have anything to do with it.”
Gradually, as the fans in the stands dispersed to their seats, Maddie spotted the troublesome tourists. “Oh, no,” she groaned, even as her pulse jolted with sexual anticipation.
“It’s him.” Lyndsey followed her line of sight and pointed an accusing, freckled finger. “Who invited him?”
“I did.” Sue waved to Jon in the bleachers, who didn’t dare wave back to a member of the Bane team. She got booed loudly by the Cub fans for her effort.
“Why?” Lyndsey shouted over the boos.
“Surprise.” Sue hugged Maddie, yanking Lyndsey into the circle of their arms. “He wants to date you, not me.”
Maddie had a hard time pulling off the happy look she’d promised Lyndsey she’d produce, but a promise was a promise and now wasn’t the moment to disagree. She rounded her eyes, slapped her palms to her cheeks, and, “Oh-ed” her mouth. But no sound came out.
“I invited him to Cubby’s for the after-game party, too. Cubby has guaranteed that no fanatics will sneak in this time. Players only.” Sue grinned. “And our guests.”
“Play ball,” the umpire shouted and they scattered.
Knowing Jon was watching didn’t help her game any. Even after she rid her mind of lusty thoughts involving his mouth and her crotch, and her mouth and his penis, she played self-consciously. By the last inning she had two balls and two strikes against her. Riled and upset at herself, and at him for turning up yet again where she and her friends were, and where he wasn’t supposed to be, she concentrated by pretending the softball was his noggin and she had to knock some sense into it.
Whack. With a loud crack, she slammed the ball right out of the outfield. Cubs were backing up, and backing up, until they backed smack into the fence.
When she finished rounding the bases, Sue clapped her on the back. “Coach sent word the ball hit some fancy silver-gray sports car in the parking lot. Did some damage despite a ding-proof car cover. The owner looked about ready to cry. Turned white. Coach had to sit him down with his head between his knees to calm him.”
She nodded, assimilating the information. Sounded like Jon and his Jaguar. With his car on the injured list and him down-for-the-count, could she be so lucky that he wouldn’t show up for the party at Cubby’s?
Chapter Fourteen
Maddie cornered Jon in the parking lot after the game to warn him off coming to Cubby’s after-game party. With a cough, she fanned away the dust kicked up by both happy and angry fans wheeling out of the lot.
“I’m sorry about your car,” she said when the air cleared.
She nodded with sympathy while he rambled on about matching the paint and calling his insurance. Once he wound down, she grabbed her chance. “Why are you here?” She was amazed he’d so easily broken their pact to steer clear of her while on the island.
“To celebrate your victory.” He grinned.
“Don’t you grin at me. You know what I mean. We had a deal.” She glanced around to see if anyone was watching them. No one. Not even Lyndsey and Sue. They were down in the stands rounding up a few more male guests for Cubby’s.
“I was invited.” Jon pointed to the Jag, where a man in a battered cowboy hat sat while Coach held a cold beer against his swollen eye. “You could say me and Harry fought for the right.”
“You and Harry can’t come.” Maddie propped her hands onto her hips.
“Well, Harry could, but not with you.”
“Harry’s in no shape to go anywhere without me. I’m his designated driver.” Jon shoved his hands into the pants pockets of his khakis, seeming pleased with himself for one-upping her.
“How charitable of you,” she huffed. “Always looking out for your fellow traveler.”
“Thanks.” He bent his head and smacked a kiss to her lips.
“Don’t do that.” She pulled her head back and glanced around to where two lingering female fans battled it out with loud words and louder shoves. “Not here, anyway.”
Did she just say that? One touch of his hot lips and she forgot to disapprove and instead started racking her brain for an isolated spot where they could meet.
“No one saw,” he said.
“Easy for you to say.” His whole way of life wasn’t at risk.
He tapped her nose. “If you’d quit following me around nobody would even suspect you know me.”
“Ooh, you.”
“Don’t look so frazzled or I’ll have to kiss you again.” He stepped in closer.
With that, she backed up and stalked off to search out Sue and Lyndsey. She tried begging off the celebration with a headache, but Sue wouldn’t hear of it.
“Geez, then Jon and I will have to spring another surprise on you.” She bolted toward a green SUV before Maddie could protest and called out, “I’m catching a ride over with Jill. She has a cute off-island cousin visiting with a notion to relocate.”
Lyndsey shrugged her shoulders. “I mentioned how you wanted to dodge Jon, but for some reason she persists on matchmaking. I wonder what he told her?”
“I wonder,” Maddie mumbled. They hopped into her Jeep and drove over to Cubby’s.
“Would you believe it? Cubby has a bouncer at the door.” Lyndsey giggled as they waited in a short line. “I wonder who he belongs to.” She winked at the brawny hunk. “Just in case,” she whispered, “but his kind are usually taken.” She sighed all the way over to the sandwich table, until the aromas of home-baked bread, steamy roast beef, and baked ham shut her up.
