by Morey, Trish
Those boots that had been almost enough to make him hard all by themselves.
Those leave-them-on boots.
His tongue stuck hard to the roof of his mouth.
Had she been packing those boots all along? Words would be said. But later. Right now he was too busy watching, as she sashayed between the tables, her hips swaying like a pendulum, the fringe at her breasts swaying to the opposite beat. It was provocative. It was mesmerizing. And despite the fans working overtime overhead, the heat in the room went up a dozen degrees.
She stopped just shy of him. “I missed you,” she said, and hooked her fingers under his waistband and yanked him close. The other hand snaked around his neck and pulled his head down to her red painted mouth where she damn near sucked out his brain with her hot mouth and clever tongue.
Oh yeah!
When he lifted his head, her eyes twinkled up at him conspiratorially and he made another addition to her impressive skill set. She was the best damned red-headed Rottweiler he’d ever had.
Finally he looked around at the startled group, knowing his lips must be as painted red as hers. “Everyone,” he said, “Meet Scarlett.”
Chapter Seven
Scarlett couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. The setting was out of this world and the company was fine too, once they’d recovered from the shock, and even if, she noticed, Robbo’s mom did look a bit tense from time to time.
But Scarlett’s accent soon brought the topic of travel to the conversation, with plenty of questions about Montana, and it was surreal to conjure up pictures of snow-covered mountains and crystal clear lakes when she was sitting in a tropical beachfront paradise half a world away. Even more surreal to think she’d be back in Montana in a few short days and this would all be just a memory.
Even though she needed to get home—wanted desperately to get home—her head wasn’t ready to leave this place just yet. Instead she planned to extract every last shred of enjoyment from the experience.
So when the chance came, she let the conversation move on. The long flight to Australia had shown her the world was a far bigger place than just Marietta and Big Sky country. The stories she was hearing now made that world expand even more.
Robbo’s parents fought it out with Kristelle’s parents for the prize of the best trip ever, to which there was no easy winner, before they headed into the territory of worst travel experience.
There was still no winner until Sharon told the story of when she’d been waiting for a train at a quiet station deep within the Arctic Circle, and how the train had grown later and later and how she’d grown colder and madder, until finally, shivering her ass off on a lonely seat in a lonely station, she’d figured out that the trains only ran in the summer, and her train wouldn’t arrive for another three months. Sharon won the contest hands down. Scarlett liked her stories and her easy laugh.
As for Robbo, he just kept smiling benevolently over at her and Mitch as if her presence had made his day. And when the topic of conversation had moved on and one of the parents asked Sharon what she did, it was Robbo who answered, ‘Sharon’s an accountant. We only found out when we were having drinks in the bar before. Can you believe Kristelle never mentioned it?’
Kristelle just rolled her eyes. “Maybe because I never knew. It’s not like we work together. We’re gym friends, aren’t we, Sharon?”
Sharon just smiled weakly and reached for her wine.
“Truly,” Kristelle continued, “It is fabulous our special friends and family could be here to share this happy event, especially given how suddenly this was all arranged. Darling Robert just couldn’t wait a moment longer to tie the knot.”
Robbo raised his eyebrows a little at that but agreed with the sentiments. “Hear hear. And we’re very grateful our parents could all be here with us and that both Sharon and Mitch could be on hand as our bridesmaid and best man. We’re honored to have you all,” he said, raising his glass in a toast to them.
They drank and then Mitch proposed a toast to the happy couple and they drank some more and the mood was fine.
Until Kristelle said, with a laugh as she looked squarely at Mitch. “It is funny, though, isn’t it, that you’re called the best man? When obviously—you’re not.”
Scarlett, who’d been thinking that maybe she’d just been a bit too hard on Kristelle because everyone was getting along so well, and who’d noticed a definite tic in Robbo’s mom’s eye every time the bride-to-be spoke, thought again. “Maybe that just depends,” she said, with a smile as she wound her arm around Mitch’s and laid her head adoringly on his shoulder, “on your point of view. I’m perfectly happy to settle for good ol’ Mitch here.”
“Hey babe,” Mitch said, with a smile, “you’re pretty good yourself.”
“Hear hear!” said Robbo once more applauding, clearly getting into the swing of things. “Well said!”
“How lovely,” said Robbo’s mom, looking relieved, “I wonder if there’ll be another wedding before too long.”
Mitch took Scarlett’s hand between his and looked into her adoring eyes, “Well, there’s no saying what’s in the future for any of us, but if anything does happen between Scarlett and me, you can be sure, as parents of one of my oldest friends, we’d want you there to celebrate with us.”
Robbo’s parents puffed up. “We’d be honored, son,” said Andrew.
“How sweet,” Kristelle said with a smile, while her eyes sent a death stare straight to Scarlett.
Scarlett sent a smile back that was so dripping with sugar, it should have come with its own dentist’s drill.
There was no time to enjoy the moment because right then, sunset arrived, not with a whimper, but a bang, the way it apparently always did in the tropics. One moment the light was bright and hard, dulled only by the grey clouds, then next the sun had slanted and lit a wick that set fire to the sky. The clouds turned orange and the sea turned gold and the restaurant fell silent as every eye was drawn to the spectacle.
And Scarlett, who back home in Montana had witnessed some of the world’s most spectacular sunsets, found one more place where the simple act of the sun setting could rock your world.
“Wow,” she said, clutching Mitch’s hand as the last of the red light faded into black. And on impulse she turned and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you so much for bringing me here,” and he smiled and lifted their joined hands to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of her hand, and her heart gave a little wobble at what she saw in his eyes.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
She wondered at how easily the line had blurred between acting a part to look convincing and honestly expressing her feelings. Or his.
Their appetizers arrived, and Scarlett found she could breathe again, as various amazing offerings of scallops and pearl meat and more found their owners. Mitch and Scarlett laid claim to the shared mezze plate for two, featuring chorizo, harissa prawns, grilled squid, marinated feta, and olives.
“Plain salad, no dressing?” a waiter asked and Kristelle waved her hand. “Here.”
“This looks amazing,” said Mitch, popping a piece of chorizo into Scarlett’s mouth. “Try this.”
“Mmmmm.” She returned the favor and he took it from her fingers, his tongue licking the slickness clean, and she said “mmmm” all over again and saw the heat flicker in his eyes. Oh boy.
Together they demolished the platter, feeding each other morsel after morsel, and nobody could say that they didn’t make a convincing couple.
And while a newly discovered voice of sense and reason in the back of mind told Scarlett that she really needed to remember this was a role she was playing, it was all too tempting to blot it out and just enjoy this man’s attentions while they lasted. Was it so wrong, she asked herself, to wish that things could be different, that she wasn’t a mere day or two away from leaving here and Mitch forever; that there was something more in his heated looks than mere lust?
Then someth
ing touched her thigh and she jumped and figured that maybe the answer to question number two was a definite no. Because beside her, Mitch was busy staring the other way while his fingers were attempting to sneak under the hem of her skirt. “‘What are you doing?’ she whispered.
“Finding out if you’re wearing knickers.”
She shied away. “You’ll just have to wait.”
“I can’t!”
She smacked his hand away. “Down boy!”
Across the table Robbo laughed. ‘Mitch getting a little frisky for you over there, Scarlett?”
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Honestly, sometimes he’s like a dog with a bone.”
The men snorted, the two mothers didn’t know whether to be shocked or laugh, Sharon sucked her lips between her teeth to stop herself laughing, and Kristelle just looked glummer and glummer. “I’m worried about the weather,” she lamented, looking out at the threatening sky. “What if it gets worse? What if there’s no Staircase to the Moon?”
Robbo turned to his fiancée, his hands upturned. “Then there’s no Staircase to the Moon, Kristelle, It’s not going to be the end of the world. We’ve still got our wedding to look forward to.”
“But it’s supposed to be the Staircase to the Moon. It’s supposed to be magical.”
“It’ll be fine, sweetheart,” soothed her mother, “your father will fix it.”
Rolf spluttered, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. “How, in heaven’s name, am I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know, darling,” she said, patting his hand. “But you’ll find a way, I’m sure.”
Scarlett glanced up at Mitch who was way too cowardly to meet her eyes and luckily the entrees arrived and they had more food to concentrate on, the seafood paella for Scarlett, a grilled eye fillet of Kimberley beef for Mitch. Robbo stumped for the lamb shank, and there were a number of fish that gave up their lives in the cause of a very good feed also.
Kristelle, who hadn’t ordered an entree, picked valiantly at her salad. She looked accusingly over at Scarlett’s paella. “Clearly you’re not the one who has to fit into a designer wedding gown tomorrow.”
“No, thank god,” said Scarlett. “Someone pass the garlic bread.”
Mitch was only too happy to comply. “Here you are, sweetlips, we need to keep up your strength.”
Kristelle’s barely-used silverware crashed to the plate.
Robert looked around. “Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” she said with a jagged little laugh. “They must have slipped. Excuse me a moment.” And she rose and left.
They all looked at each other. “Should someone go with her?” Scarlett said.
Sharon was already on her feet. “I’ll check.” She was back inside a minute, her face burning red, her mouth tight. “She said she just wants to be alone a minute or two. She just needed some air.”
“Oh, the excitement’s getting to her,” said her mother. “I remember what it was like before our wedding, Rolf, I was so excited.”
Rolf grunted, deep in remembering, his hand firmly wrapped around a tumbler of scotch.
Scarlett looked at Mitch. He took her hand, clearly thinking along the same lines, that it was a different kind of excitement getting to Kristelle than pre-wedding jitters and that she’d probably had enough of being convinced they were a couple for one night.
“We’ve had a long day. We might call it an early night, if you’ll excuse us.” He dropped a heap of twenties on the table and saw Scarlett eyeing the stack. “Is that enough?” he said for a joke, and she nodded. “Good tip, too.”
Robbo looked disappointed that the party might be breaking up so early. “Mitch,” he said, “before you go, can I have a word?”
“Go ahead you two,” Scarlett said. “I’ll see you back at the villa,” and she bade them all a good night.
“I’m sorry, mate,” Robbo said, when they were far enough away. “I came on a bit strong before.”
“No,” Mitch said. “I shouldn’t have asked you what I did.”
“Well...” Robbo’s head bobbed from side to side. “When it comes down to it, I have been having doubts.”
“About Kristelle?”
“Yeah, that too. And Kristelle’s been so insistent on you being here for the wedding it got me wondering whether she was having second thoughts and I guess you got me at a raw moment. But I can see you’re happy with Scarlett and frankly, I can see why. She’s a top sheila.”
“Yeah. That she is.”
“So, no hard feelings. And I really mean it this time.”
“Sure, no hard feelings.”
He let himself into the villa. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, still worried about Robbo. But only until he caught sight of Scarlett in that mini and those boots again.
“Time for bed?” he said, ever hopeful, as he headed for the bathroom to do his teeth.
“I was thinking of a swim in the plunge pool first.”
His eyebrows shot up, his toothbrush barely in his hand, as he remembered all those mermaid pictures he’d thought of before. The plunge pool would do nicely in the interim. Very nicely.
“I’ll just grab my shorts,” he said, about to change his mind and head for the dressing room.
She appeared at the door, wearing only her scarlet hair. “What do you need swim shorts for?”
Good question.
They made love in the pool, slow, slick love until they were too weary of trying to keep their heads above water, and then they moved to the bed, where they made love all over again.
Afterward, as she was lying in the crook of Mitch’s arm watching the lazy rotations of the ceiling fan in the shadowed light, she said, “I think I will send a postcard to Travis. And it’ll say, ‘Having a ball in Broome. Give my love to your wife and kids’.”
“Would you do that?”
“No, tempting though it is. In fact, I actually should thank him. I wouldn’t be here with you in Broome without that little disaster.” She held out her arms toward the ceiling, “Thank you Travis!” she said to the universe. “You asshat.”
Mitch chuckled beside her and she dug him in the ribs. “Hey, you should thank Travis too.”
“Me?”
“Sure. You got what you wanted didn’t you? A Rottweiler to protect you from the clutches of the evil Kristelle.”
Yeah, he had. But it wasn’t Travis he owed thanks to.
Travis might have dropped her in his metaphoric lap, but it was his little sister who’d stopped him from walking away. It was Callie, who’d made him wait long enough to have coffee with Scarlett and make sure she was okay. Callie, who’d given him time to come up with this plan.
Thank you, Callie, he said silently, as he drew Scarlett closer into the crook of his arm.
“You are one hell of a Rottweiler. And there was me thinking you were going to give Kristelle the benefit of the doubt. You came out all guns blazing.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling against his shoulder. “So maybe I had a hunch.”
He sighed and for a moment she thought he was going to sleep, and then he said. “Now I’ve got a hunch.”
“What about?”
“I’m thinking you should talk to Sharon.”
“What about?”
“About her being an accountant.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re good with numbers. When you’re not working out restaurant bills, you’re working on those damned puzzles.”
She shrugged. “They’re just Sudoku.”
“Yeah, but they’re numbers.”
“I thought accountants were supposed to be boring.”
“Does Sharon look boring?”
“No, she looks nice. She is nice. I like her.” She thought about it for a while. “Mitch, do you think I could be an accountant?”
“I don’t know, Scarlett. Like I said, it’s just a hunch. Maybe you should talk to her.” He squeezed her shoulders. “Now go t
o sleep.”
Scarlett lay there a while, listening to the whisper soft whir of the fan. Accounting. It sounded horrible. But what did she really know about accounting? She’d never met an accountant before. And now she knew two, Robbo and Sharon. But there was a CPA firm in Bozeman near the police department where Tara worked and they had a branch in Marietta. She remembered their signage, Morison and Daume CPA.
And she didn’t have a clue what they did inside that office of theirs, but if it was something to do with numbers, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it was worth thinking about.
Maybe.
The next morning brought good news on the weather front when the weather forecast on the television confirmed what they saw out the windows. The cyclone off shore had blown itself out and winds were easing, the clouds already less threatening, and there was a chance of clearing skies by evening. Mitch flicked off the TV. “Looking good for Staircase to the Moon,” he said, and Scarlett would have been excited, except she’d just checked her phone.
With a sigh she put it down on the side table.
“Nothing?”
“Not a nibble.” She turned in his arms. Sighed again. “You know, I’m beginning to think it’s better if the dress doesn’t sell. I mean, some woman in Marietta took it back because she was abandoned at the altar and then the damn thing offered me no joy either. Maybe it’s a bad luck dress. Maybe I shouldn’t even be trying to sell it because the darned gown is cursed. Why would I want to pass on a dress that’s likely to ruin some poor woman’s life?”
“It’s just a dress, Scarlett. How can it be cursed?”
“I don’t know, but it is, and it’s a sign that it’s not selling. I’m going to take the listing down. I don’t want anyone else to buy it.”
“Okay, so take the listing down.”
“Wouldn’t you do the same?”
“If I happened to have a wedding gown that was cursed and that wouldn’t sell on eBay, you mean?”
“Now you’re just poking fun at me.”
“Not at all. It’s a fair question. I just need to think about it a while, do a thorough assessment of the pros and cons. You can’t be too impulsive about these things.”
