“Well”—he grinned boyishly—”they’re not exactly retail. I programmed it with your number, and if you like, I’ll transfer your phone book this evening.”
“Well sure. Thanks.”
He shrugged as if it were nothing, which maybe it was to him, but she was touched that he’d thought of her. Being on his mind meant she was closer to getting him in bed.
Then again, the frizzy, homeless cat was on his mind, too. He’d actually ordered a to-go cup of water for Mooch and lifted him out of the taxi so he could go potty without jumping down and hurting himself—wouldn’t he make a good dad?—so maybe being on Jake’s mind didn’t mean anything of the sort.
“Brady should’ve changed the phone out for you. I’m just doing it for him.”
Hoping that wasn’t his sole reason, she moved closer and peeked into the open trunk. “What other high-tech stuff do you have in there?”
“Unless you consider vibrating dildos high-tech, nothing.”
The box in the rear corner didn’t hold adult toy items, but umbrellas, purses, a briefcase, a sweater, and a pair of white underpants that were bagged in a Ziploc— silky-looking, but way too tame for a self-proclaimed pleasure shop.
“Interesting stuff you carry around.”
“Customers left all that in the backseat. No ID’s, not even in the purses. I keep it handy, hoping I’ll pick up somebody again who’ll ask me if I found something they can identify.”
“Underpants?”
He chuckled. “What, nobody left those in your airplane?”
“I had a couple try it once.” She winked. “We hit a bit of turbulence, and they got very ill.”
“Too bad taxis don’t have wings.”
“I’d throw them away.”
“I did that once.” His lips twisted in a grim line, and he rubbed the back of his head as if it were sore. “I found out why Uncle Paul said to wait six months. How was I supposed to know she’d track me down for a pair of twenty- dollar Victoria’s Secrets?” He closed the trunk lid. “So who were you talking to before? You know, in the salon.”
“John and Elizabeth.”
“Your sorority sister?”
She gave him points for remembering and decided it’d be better—and in the long run simpler—to be honest. “Not really. I guess you could call them angels.”
“Not me. Here, better let me get the door so you don’t mess up your nails again.”
Lilly grinned as she moved past him, leaning in just so, letting her shoulder brush against his arm. She didn’t know whether it got his attention, but it sure felt fine to her.
“Oh yeah, you of the ‘tarot cards and channeling shit.’”
“Damn straight. Give me scientific facts and hard data, then we’ll talk.”
She wanted so badly to lift up on her toes and kiss him, but other than dancing with him three years ago and a brief hug at the funeral, it was really like they’d only just met yesterday. She should be happy with her progress so far; she had him right where she wanted him—confined in the front seat, not two feet away from her, scheduled to be there day after day. Red blouse, naughty haircut, scarlet nails—he couldn’t help but notice she was available.
Ah, the heck with it. As soon as he slid in behind the wheel, she scooted over, and turning his face toward hers with a hand on his cheek, she softly pressed her lips where she’d been dying to all night.
At first he did nothing, didn’t even kiss her back. At least he didn’t jump out of the car. But just when she was about to give up, his lips softened ever so slightly against hers, then more, and finally he angled his head for a better fit.
Oh heavens! She’d had no idea what she was getting into. For what started out as a brief, gentle kiss, it quickly turned wicked, hitting awfully hard deep inside, heating up areas that hadn’t been heated in, well, maybe never.
When she dragged her lips away from his and put a mere breath of space between them, he whispered— hoarsely, she was pleased to notice—”What was that for?”
She cleared her throat so she wouldn’t strangle on whatever popped out of her mouth, which was not eloquent— who could be eloquent when she’d just had her insides sautéed?—but instead, was very simple.
“Thanks for saving my life.”
“You’re sure?”
“Heck yes.”
“No, I mean you’re sure that’s all it is. Because if not, I still have half a backseat open.”
Instead of being offended, she smiled and nuzzled his lips again, teasing him, but not daring to taste him with the tip of her tongue the way she was dying to.
“You kissed me back.”
“I’m a man. You put a beautiful woman in my lap, I’m not responsible.”
“Is that so?”
She grinned against his mouth, gave him one last light-as-a-butterfly kiss, and backed off. For now.
He was pond scum, pure, unadulterated pond scum. No, what was lower than that? Whatever it was, that was him.
His best friend was dead only a few months, and at a tragically young age. Poor guy hadn’t even passed on his genes.
And what the hell was he—Jake—doing? Messing with his best friend’s wife. His widow, for chrissakes, and not all that long at it. Stoking the fire that had begun three years ago and couldn’t burn itself out naturally.
But technically, she was messing with him. He’d kept his hands to himself, for which he should get a medal. He hadn’t dragged Lilly up against his body. He hadn’t slipped his tongue past her lips and tasted her the way he’d wanted. The way his body had demanded.
But that didn’t make him a saint, because the pure, undiluted fact was, he’d wanted to. If her lips had— Damn, they were so soft. Not a chapped spot on them. If they had remained on his another second, he wouldn’t have been responsible for where his body would lead them. Not his brain—his body—because his brain hadn’t gotten any blood from the instant she’d slid across that seat.
Speaking of which, the seat was wide, flat, plenty of people had sex in cars. The steering wheel could be a problem, he supposed.
Hell, how was he supposed to drive now?
He looked around, shocked to see that he was driving. He’d gone at least a mile, somehow starting the car, putting it in gear, missing other vehicles. Shit, he needed a night out with the guys. They’d set him straight. They’d tell him to stay away from Lilly. They’d remind him to keep networking with the guys out in Silicon Valley, to stay focused on the big picture until he could seize opportunity and reestablish himself as a technological wizard. If he didn’t wreck the car first.
He buckled his seat belt—the only thing he knew he’d forgotten. Not that there might not be something else, like respect for the dead.
Or like his brain.
Lilly wasn’t able to get her lips near Jake’s again all week.
Fairly certain she couldn’t get pregnant right away, she’d been willing to go slowly, set the stage, get off on the right foot, so to speak. Talk a lot, laugh together, trade life stories, that kind of thing, all while driving around and giving money to needy causes.
She’d taken to signing the checks at the various charity offices with her eyes closed. Elizabeth’s “have faith” was easier said than done. It just plain hurt to see her own name below so many zeroes.
“I’d like to do something different today,” she said one morning as she slid into the taxi. “At least one thing.”
“What do have in mind?”
“Writing checks is really boring. I mean, how many hands can I shake and how many framed photos of volunteers on the wall do I have to stare at before I go stark raving mad? They thank me real nice, and they tell me where my money’s going to go, but I don’t see it.” She sighed. “Do you think it’s possible for me to help people?”
“You’re helping lots of people.”
“I mean personally. For me to make a difference personally. With individuals.”
Jake studied her for a moment, a curious look on
his face. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yes.”
He put the taxi in DRIVE. “Hold that thought, I know just the place.”
Half an hour later, they drove between brick pillars that were flanked by twin guards—one snowwoman, one snowman, just about all that was left of the big Valentine’s Day storm.
Lilly peered through the windshield at the huge complex. “What is this?”
“It’s a club for boys and girls. A safe place for them to go after school and on weekends. Summers, too.”
“There’s more here than just a safe place.”
“That’s what I want to show you.” He opened his door. “I take care of their computer needs, but they also have a health clinic, performing arts, athletic teams—”
“Must cost a fortune to run.”
He grinned and said, “That’s where you come in. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Ollie first.”
They found the director in a fairly tidy office, with his door open wide and a big bowl of candy on the desk. He was about thirty, skinny except for the pooch right behind his belt, already balding, and he had the soft eyes of an angel.
“Dang, Jake,” Ollie said, crossing the room quickly to shake hands with him. “If I’d known you knew a beautiful woman, I’d drop by for a beer more often.”
“We just met a few days ago. Ollie, Lilly. Lilly, Ollie.”
Ollie shook her hand warmly. “Nice to meet you, Lilly. Usually he just brings that mean-tempered cat of his.”
Lilly’s jaw dropped as she turned to Jake. “You don’t.”
“Hey, Mooch gets along fine with the kids. I’d bring him in today, Ollie, but he had surgery recently. So, how about I show Lilly around—”
“How about you go do whatever magic you do in the computer lab and I’ll show Lilly around.” It wasn’t a question, and Ollie took Lilly by the elbow and ushered her out the door.
“Computers are all fine,” Jake said, tagging along.
“You haven’t even checked.”
“I can check from home.”
“Talk about Big Brother. Hey, you’d better not be able to tap into the confidential files.”
“Not to worry.”
“He says that, but I don’t believe him,” Ollie murmured to Lilly. “He was like that in college, too. Hands in everything. Have you seen his house? He makes inanimate objects do things that inanimate objects shouldn’t do.” He shuddered, but she could tell Ollie’d been the class clown.
A dozen boys and girls greeted Jake by name as Ollie led Lilly on a tour of the facility, which could only rightfully be called a complex, and explained how much good they did in the community, keeping kids off the streets, teaching them character, leadership, and skills everyone needed.
Ollie introduced her to several of the children, and she carefully considered each boy’s name as a possibility for her son. The weird, artistic names were just out, period; if her child was destined to do something great, he could use a strong name for starters. She was looking for something powerful, yet distinctive. Names were supposed to be important in one’s destiny.
“Who’s the little guy following us?” Lilly whispered, as they finished up an hour later.
The small boy had been trailing them for fifteen minutes, ten paces back, stopping when they stopped, peeking around corners and doors to make sure they didn’t get too far away.
Ollie knew who Lilly meant without looking. “Reggie’s kind of shy, doesn’t talk much,” he said softly. “We try to get him involved a little more every day, but then he backs off. He prefers just to hang out until his grandmother picks him up.”
Her heart went out to Reggie, whose shyness got in the way of his obvious need to connect.
Reggie. Reginald. Nope, way too different.
“He talks to Mooch,” Jake said.
“He’ll come around. Some of these kids don’t get much interaction at home. Single parents, two jobs, that kind of thing.”
“I’d better explain why Mooch isn’t here today.” As they passed through a community area, Jake took a chair and waited for Reggie to inch by. Lilly knew instinctively that Jake sat so he wouldn’t loom over the child.
“He does seem to like Jake’s cat,” Ollie admitted.
“You two known each other long?”
“Since college. We were on the same floor in the dorm.”
“It’s nice you’ve stayed in touch.”
“Well, that’s mostly Jake’s doing,” Ollie admitted. “But then, that’s Jake. He’s real close to his family, and that spills over into his friendships. You okay?”
“Oh.” She’d been watching Reggie. “He reminds me of myself at that age. I want to just go up and hug him—”
Ollie cleared his throat, ready to issue a warning.
“—but I know he wouldn’t welcome it.” She’d been stuck in a boarding school twenty-four/seven, no one to go home to at night. Sad thing was, she missed her nanny the most because she’d been closest to her.
They returned to the office, where Lilly got down to the business of a charitable donation.
“You’ve seen everything,” Ollie said. “Is there one particular area you’d like this to go to?”
Well, that was a nice change, unlike the usual obsequious handshake and “I look forward to seeing you again next year.”
“Can I get back to you on that?” Out the window, she watched Jake and Reggie at the car, the back door standing open.
“Sure, stop by anytime. If you want, we can always use volunteers.”
One thing she’d learned from her many stops—volunteers were the backbone of charities. She wondered if they were ever given their due.
She strolled outside and huddled alone on a nearby bench to give Reggie extra time with Jake and Mooch. After asking Jake a myriad of questions about Mooch’s surgery and what it was for and if it hurt, Reggie gave the cat a gentle pat and sauntered away.
Lilly headed for the warmth of the car. She was in her seat, rubbing her hands together in front of the vent when she noticed Jake sitting sideways, studying her.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just noticed you freezing over there on the bench, that’s all.”
“I didn’t want to scare Reggie off.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Just surprised, that’s all.”
The next day, Lilly set about concentrating on the other half of her mission—getting past Jake’s defenses. From here on in, she could ovulate at any time. She could track her temperature, of course, but what was the point if she couldn’t even kiss him?
Betsy was sitting at the tile-topped table in Lilly’s atrium, having rushed over in response to a plea for help. And she had a whole different objective. “Tell me again why you’re giving money away.”
“I saw the light.”
“At the end of the tunnel,” Betsy repeated.
“Yes!” Lilly said, with all the exasperation that had built up over the last half hour of repeatedly explaining the concept, all the while puttering about her plants and feeding healthy treats to the bonded pair of lovebirds who ruled the atrium during daylight hours.
Jake, too, had asked one day why she was suddenly so benevolent and did it have anything to do with nearly dying. She’d started to explain about the angels, and he’d said, “Fine, if you don’t want to tell me, don’t,” and that was the last she’d heard about it from him.
Betsy should be so easy.
It was time to move upstairs and find something to wear. Either Betsy would get this or she wouldn’t, but there was nothing else Lilly could tell her to make it happen.
“He’s going to be here in a few minutes, and I’d really rather discuss how to get him into bed—soon—if you don’t mind.”
“What makes you think I’d know?”
“Exactly how many hours did it take you to get that cute paramedic into bed?”
“He went back to work first. Do I have to count that?”
Upstairs, Betsy sat on the bed while Lilly dug deep in her closet, searching for more red.
“Tell me again how you looked back on your life and saw you hadn’t been generous enough.”
“No.” Lilly poked through a lot of stuff she hadn’t seen, much less worn, in years. She really should start boxing some of it up for the women’s shelter.
“But, Lill, you’ve been doing this all week, and you’re selling your house and your airplane. I’m worried about you. I mean, this is a complete turnaround. It’s not like you at all, and I think you should talk to someone.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re giving away money as an excuse to ride around every day with Jake.”
“That’s not why—”
“Stop right there.”
Maybe if she retreated far enough into the back of the closet, she wouldn’t have to listen.
“Now, I’m not criticizing you—”
Nope, wasn’t working.
“I’m telling you it’s okay to chase the man. You can tie him to the bed and tear his clothes off and have your way with him for all I care—”
When Betsy paused, Lilly figured she was dabbing off a little drool at the corner of her mouth, because that’s exactly the effect the image was having on her. Especially after that kiss. Oh my God, what had she been thinking? That kissing Jake for the first time would be like kissing a husband for the thousandth time when he came home from work? Although—whew!—wouldn’t that be the kind of husband to have.
Shoot, Brady’d never kissed her like that. She hadn’t known anyone kissed the way Jake did. It just reinforced her belief that there was definitely more out there that she’d never experienced, that she should’ve experienced at least once a week in years and years of making love.
Hm, she was going to have to downgrade that from lovemaking to sex. Ho-hum sex, she was pretty sure now.
Betsy was still talking. Lilly had no idea how much she’d missed, but unless it was a detailed, itemized list of what she had to do to get Jake into bed, it probably wasn’t all that important.
“It’s not okay to feel so guilty about it that you have to rationalize a cockamamie reason like giving away a whole bunch of money just to be with him. And another thing…”
A Date on Cloud Nine Page 8
