Blah blah blah…
Lilly found herself measuring time not by the amount of dollars flowing out of her accounts, not by how much slower Mooch vacated his favorite seat every morning, but by the number of red items she’d gone through in her quest to get Jake’s attention. Blouses, sweaters, jackets— she had run out of solids within days and started dredging up anything with any little spot of red in it. At the end of a week, the pickings were mighty slim.
She held up a black dress and red belt, interrupting Betsy in midsentence to ask her opinion. “Will this get him hot?”
“Black? Lill, if the man has any sense of decency, it’ll just make him think you’re still mourning his best friend.”
“Oh my gosh! I wore a black skirt with my red jacket yesterday. And black pants the day before that. That’s why I’m not getting anywhere with him?”
“Du-uh.”
She’d been in an increasingly uncomfortable state of carnal desire all week, with no end in sight. How dumb could she be? Brady’d been Jake’s best friend. Of course he respected her grief. Shoot, how was she supposed to get around that before she ran out of time?
“Darn it, Betsy, it would’ve been nice if you’d mentioned that instead of telling me I couldn’t fail in red, so I would’ve known there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“That remains to be seen.”
Laughing with relief, Lilly tore through her closet for anything not black, selecting a royal blue dress instead. It’d been tight across her breasts last time she wore it, but that would only help her quest, not hurt it.
Maybe once she slept with Jake, the dreams would stop. They were driving her crazy, replaying each unproductive day with him over and over, each version a little different, so that by the time she woke up, she wasn’t clear on exactly where or why she’d struck out.
They also hit her right in her conscience, plaguing her with feelings of guilt that she sublimated during waking hours. It boiled down to pursuing Jake for procreation purposes without cluing him in to the outcome. Awake, she could rationalize it, having a baby at last, the gift of life, for the greater good and all that. Asleep, she couldn’t.
“Really, Lill, I’m worried about you.”
Lilly slipped into the dress and twirled for inspection. “Good?”
“You need more red than just a belt. Got anything else? A scarf maybe?”
“Tights?”
“Oh, please no. I’d say throw them out, but,” Betsy suggested with a wicked smile, “they make great ropes.”
“Ooh, you’re making me hot.” Lilly fanned herself theatrically and tucked the tights under her pillow just in case. “See, that’s the kind of stuff I need to know. What else?”
“Earrings.”
“No, not earrings,” she whined. “Can you not focus on what I need?”
“Sure. And your red shoes.”
Lilly gave up. Maybe it was time for stage two.
The doorbell rang. “If I don’t make serious lip contact with Jake by the end of the day, I’ll try your bedpost thing.”
“Girl, if you don’t make serious lip contact, I doubt you’ll be able to tie him to the bed. It’s kind of a prerequisite.”
Betsy held a red purse out like a flag. Lilly nabbed it on her way out the bedroom door, checking to make sure her checkbook was in it on her way down the stairs. The darned thing was never where it was supposed to be, slowing her down like a series of speed bumps in her path to the poorhouse. Once she’d even found it under Mooch; you’d think it was his the way he’d hissed at her for taking it back.
Minutes later, she slid into the front of Jake’s taxi, nudging Mooch over toward the center. He gave a mournful, threatening moan or yowl or whatever the heck you called that terrible sound that droned on and on until he felt he’d said enough and hopped disdainfully into the back.
She said, “Morning,” in a voice that she meant to be provocative, but it just sounded chipper to her.
Her straight hem rode up on her thighs, though, exposing enough skin to get any man’s engine revved. She didn’t tug it down. In fact she wiggled her butt on the seat, as innocently as if she were trying to get comfortable, purposely letting it ride higher.
Surprisingly enough, the inexpensive jewelry she was wearing didn’t detract from the whole picture. These days, she left the gold and the diamonds at home. Day before yesterday, when she’d written her net worth down to seventeen million, the “18” charm fell off Elizabeth’s bracelet. It bounced off the desk in a local bird sanctuary, hit the floor, and vanished. Since it wasn’t real gold, Lilly didn’t search very hard for it. Too bad it didn’t have monetary value, because then by not searching endlessly, she’d be offering proof that she wasn’t so accumulation-oriented anymore. She needed the extra proof, because the rate she kept mislaying her checkbook surely made her life-altering transformation appear less than complete to Elizabeth.
Besides, she thought, glancing over at Jake behind the wheel, she had someone a whole lot more interesting to pursue. Should she scoot over there and lay one on him now, or wait a little while?
Jake twisted in his seat, stretching out nicely, reaching into the back, scratching Mooch behind the ears, giving Lilly a nice hint of how he’d look stretched out on her bed—with or without ropes. He didn’t have bandages on his hands anymore, so she didn’t have to worry about hurting him. As he settled back in place, he tossed an unwrapped package onto the seat between them.
Well, looky there. A vibrator.
“I thought we’d try something different today.”
He must like her in blue.
No, that couldn’t be. He’d already had the package in the car before she came outside. Maybe seven days of red had finally screamed Sex here! Get some sex here! loud enough to reach him. Maybe he’d made peace with the idea of sleeping with his best friend’s widow.
Maybe who the heck cared.
When she thought she could speak without squeaking, she said, “Oh, all right,” in what could only be interpreted as ridiculously, high-school-virgin perky.
A vibrator. Their first time together, and he wanted to bring along a toy? She’d never done a pseudo-threesome before. She wasn’t sure whether to be offended or excited.
Excitement won, hands down.
8
Jake grew increasingly uneasy on his side of the car. All week, Lilly’d been well behaved.
Well, other than that one pass she’d made at him—if something that hot could be labeled a simple pass. He didn’t think she’d meant it to be so passionate, but it had been, and he was damned glad she hadn’t made another, at least not one blatant enough to call her on.
Some of those looks she was shooting his way now, though, sure were flaming, and he steeled himself for the worst.
He cracked his window to cool himself off. Her, too. Maybe she’d get cold and tug her skirt down. Not that he wanted her to—what man in his right mind would want her to hide those killer legs?—but it would make life in the small confines of the front seat a whole lot easier.
Distract her, he ordered himself. Remember your best friend and how much you owe him. Deal. With. This.
“I think that’s the vibrator you bought for your girlfriend,” he said. “Why did you buy her one, anyway?”
“I promised her anything she wanted for her birthday.”
“Oh. Nice. Do you see her pretty often?”
“Yeah.” She sounded puzzled.
Good. “Would you give it to her, then? Because it’s all paid for and everything, and it’s only right she gets it.”
Lilly picked up the box and held it between them. “This is for Betsy?”
“Yeah. Would you mind?” He tried to pay attention to traffic and watch her legs at the same time.
“This. For Betsy.”
Damn. It’d finally gotten so they could talk easily, on and off, all day, every day. To a reasonable degree, he’d learned to shelve the passion he’d felt for her on the day they’d met and nearly every
day thereafter and just concentrate on the platonic part. It was a struggle, but he kept thinking of Brady, how much he owed him, how Lilly was his wife—that usually did it. For about five minutes, then he’d have to start over.
From the wistful way she studied the photo-laminated dash every day, he could tell she longed to be part of a family as close-knit as his—he’d have to be blind not to see that—but that sassy banter of hers continually said just the opposite. It revealed intelligence and wit, sure, but still it was classic, protective, keep-people-at-a-distance repartee. And just in case all that wasn’t enough to confuse him, there were those hot looks she sent skittering his way.
Damn.
Talk wasn’t coming easy this morning. Lilly wasn’t making sense, which set off warning bells. If she came scootin’ across that seat again, he’d—Well, he sure as hell couldn’t jump out the door into traffic, but he’d resist. He would.
“You want me… to give this… to Betsy.”
“Ye-ah.”
“Ha!”
Sounded angry to him, which wasn’t fair, because he was only angry with her when he remembered that she’d stolen his money.
No, not her; someone. He could no longer believe she was responsible; it just wasn’t possible. Instead of a cold- hearted bitch, all he’d seen every day was a kind woman with a sympathetic heart.
The first full day they’d gone out together, she carried miniature Snickers bars in her purse and handed them out to any kids she saw. Didn’t matter if they were shy or pushy, clean or dirty, homeless or standing in line at Taco Bell with their mom. He learned fast that Lilly hated lines. She always told him what to order for her, then she went off and cooed over somebody’s baby. She had a way about her that didn’t intimidate kids.
The second day, she switched from candy to little boxes of raisins because they were healthier. Quarters weighed her down in the morning and were gone by afternoon. He’d lost count of the number of times she’d made him stop so she could stock up on more of both. Once a day at least.
It wasn’t just children she had a big heart for. Whenever a dog crossed the street in front of his taxi, her hand lifted automatically in silent warning, like a crossing guard for stray canines. He’d had a devil of a time on Tuesday convincing her she couldn’t run after a black-and-tan Rottweiler mix, check its tags, and if it didn’t have any, give it to Reggie.
“If he could have a dog, it’d be Benjie, not Cujo,” he said, both surprised and touched that she was still thinking about the reclusive little boy.
“That’s what doggie foster homes are for, to check them out first.”
“His grandmother’s allergic to dogs. And cats.”
“Hm. Rabbits?”
“Probably. Or maybe she just doesn’t want animals in the house.”
“Ah.”
It’d gotten so bad, she had the local animal control on speed dial—the one that rehabbed strays into decent pets and found them homes.
He wouldn’t undignify all she did every day by thinking she’d stolen anything, much less three million dollars. Brady was a shrewd businessman; he must have had good reason to change the beneficiary.
In spite of the fact that Jake’s dad had called last night with the all clear—the contracts were signed—Jake no longer needed to bring it up. It was done. Move on. He still swiped her checkbook from time to time; at the rate she was writing checks, someone had to look out for her or she wouldn’t have anything left to live on. Brady’d roll over in his grave.
Ordinarily, every time Jake saw a loose pet before Lilly did, he distracted her with an interesting (or not) building and turned the nearest corner in the opposite direction.
Sometimes he did it just to prolong the intervals between her philanthropic endeavors.
But not today. Today she’d been in the car five minutes max and was talking in riddles and exposing enough leg to make a Victoria’s Secret photographer sit up and take notice. He didn’t need this kind of distraction. Bring on the dogs and cats and jackasses for all he cared. Bring on anything to distract her.
He could have closed his eyes and still felt her gaze roaming him head to toe, heating him up way past where he wanted to be. Hell, he hoped she couldn’t make out a hard-on from that angle. It might spur her on.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t understand where she was coming from. If he’d had sex with someone special every night, sometimes twice, for three years running, the kind of spontaneous, up-against-the-wall, out-and-out fucking that Brady always bragged about, then nothing for the last five months—Shit, he’d be stark raving mad from withdrawal. A real lunatic.
Yes, Lilly’d been really well behaved for someone with justifiable cause. Couldn’t let her fall off the wagon now. He needed a diversion—for her.
“I thought we’d take Susannah grocery shopping today,” he said.
Nothing like a chaperone.
Susannah was a sweet, Southern hoot. She sashayed up the walk to her back door ahead of Jake, who was carrying three plastic grocery bags in each hand.
Lilly, with one bag in each, enjoyed the play of muscles in Jake’s arms, then admired his long legs as he took the porch steps two at a time. She’d followed him around the grocery store for over an hour, irrevocably charmed by the magnitude of his patience with Susannah, who inspected every ingredient label and advised him on what he should and should not buy when he shopped for himself. If Lilly weren’t already primed to get seriously naked with him, his kind, gentle manner with the geriatric belle would’ve won her over.
Susannah’s house was near the end of a quiet, dead-end street, a two-story brick house in an older neighborhood of pleasantly varied architecture, three-quarter-acre lawns, and towering oak trees.
“Open, Sesame,” Susannah drawled at her back door when they delivered her home.
To Lilly’s amazement, the door unlatched and swung open by itself. She stared at it on the way in, then as it swung itself shut and the lock clicked in place, she backed away as if it were possessed.
“Jake did that for me,” Susannah boasted. “Isn’t it just wonderful? I have to go outside to get to my basement, to do laundry, you know, and now I can go back and forth without having to set anything down. Isn’t he just the grandest?”
Jake tipped his head ever so slightly to the side and grinned at the older woman as if she were his favorite doting grandmother.
Susannah didn’t seem to notice. “My, you should’ve seen his house in the Bay Area. It practically knew what I was thinking every time I walked into a room. Why Bill Gates didn’t snap him up is beyond me. You just wait, though. He’ll get his business up and running again in no time. Now Jake, sugar, you just set those little ol’ bags there on the table, and the two of you run along.” Susannah winked at Lilly. “I know you have more important things to do.”
Yes, Lilly was liking her better by the minute.
“Oh,” Susannah said, “I almost forgot to tell you. Irene gave me her recipe for orgasms, so if you don’t get enough—”
Lilly dropped one bag and fumbled the other.
Jake’s long stride brought him instantly to her side, hovering protectively. “Is it your arm again? I knew those bags were too heavy for you. Here, give them to me.”
She tried to answer, but he’d wrapped one big, muscular arm around her—it was the closest he’d dared get all week—and heaven help her, it felt good.
And here she’d thought she was flunking seducing him. He was just a sucker for a woman in distress, that’s all.
If eyes didn’t lie, and she believed they didn’t, Jake was concerned about her, and in more than an impartial, The stranger fainted at my feet, what was I supposed to do ? kind of way.
Instead, he had a penetrating, Talk to me, I’m not listening to anyone but you gaze. A long, fixed look that took her breath away in anticipation, not of sex, not of passion—
Well, yes, passion, but not the sexual kind. Passion from the heart, from caring for someone so deeply that he wan
ted only to be in tune with her, to know her every thought, her every feeling. She’d gotten glimpses of it all week, but whenever she’d thought she’d seen it, it had skittered away elusively. Now it was there, heating up between them.
“You all right?” he asked.
She managed a jerky little nod.
“Here it is.” Susannah returned with a recipe card, and even her presence didn’t break the tension between them. “Now remember, sugar, capital T’s are tablespoons, lower case t’s are teaspoons.”
As he tucked it into his shirt pocket, a slow, wicked smile pulled at Jake’s lips. “Wait’ll you try Irene’s Chocolate Orgasms,” he said.
Lilly licked her lips.
As he plucked a few cans off the floor, Jake’s gaze blazed back and forth between Lilly’s eyes and her lips. “Decadent,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking chocolate or her.
“Best fudge you’ll ever taste,” Susannah said.
“Fudge?” Lilly hated sounding surprised. Might as well open mouth, insert foot.
“Yeah.” Jake’s deep rumble was laced with a little chuckle, and the tension between them was undeniably sexual. “What’d you think it was?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Could be anything. Brownies, cookies, ice cream…” Then she remembered. “Not that fudge you had in the car last week.” She’d filched a few bites when he wasn’t looking.
“Yep.”
“Some people say they’re better than sex”—Susannah winked—”but that’s not the way I remember it.”
If real orgasms got better than that fudge, Lilly thought, she’d greatly underestimated the vastness of her deprivation.
Susannah aimed two folded greenbacks at Jake’s pocket, finally diverting his attention, but not before leaving Lilly in a state of sensual mush.
“Now, Susannah, you can’t keep doing this.” He gently pushed her hand away. “I mean it this time.”
Lilly, after a moment to regain her wits, retrieved the rest of the groceries she’d dropped and stacked the cans on the counter.
“Don’t be silly, sugar.” To Lilly, she said, “He never lets me tip him. I keep telling him it’s not fair. If he was out picking up strangers, he’d be making money, so he should let me give him some. Lilly agrees with me, don’t you, Lilly?”
A Date on Cloud Nine Page 9
