“That’s right. I hate creepy-crawlies, and I hate mice.”
Derek hugged her to him. “I’m here to protect you, girl.” The flashlight wobbled in his hand.
For a brief second, Joya allowed herself to relax and trust him. She let Derek fold her into his arms. They kissed again, and her arms wrapped around his neck and she gave in to the passion, the feeling of being swept away. Another quick brush of their lips, and again that instant combustion, the feeling her body was on fire.
Derek’s hands were warm on her bare stomach. He began a sensual massage, a supple kneading of flesh. Those same hands found their way to her breasts. Derek’s rough palms created a friction that caused her nipples to pebble and harden. His fingers slipped under the demi-cups of her bra, tweaking her nipples and setting off another round of heat. Every nerve was wired.
She was alive, pulsing and suffused with heat. Her loins felt heavy and her body close to exploding. She bit the side of Derek’s neck and pressed herself against him, fitting her lithe body against his solid one. He was rock-hard and throbbing. Joya ran a hand over his butt and gave a little squeeze. Then things went rapidly out of control.
Joya’s shirt was pulled over her head, and she did nothing to stop him. Simultaneously, she unzipped his pants and reached inside to release him. Then, holding him in one hand, she used her saliva to dampen a finger and draw circles around the rim of his erect penis.
Derek’s groan told her she’d hit a sweet spot. He brought her up hard against him and the flashlight rolled across the floor, causing them to jump.
“Stop me now if you don’t want this to go any further,” he said, on a ragged breath.
Joya didn’t want to stop him. She was living in the moment with no expectations beyond this. Derek was making her feel like a woman again, and from the sounds of his uneven breathing, she hadn’t forgotten what it took to make a man happy. Still, if he hadn’t brought protection with him, things would come to a grinding halt. Now that would be disappointing.
“Joya?”
“I’m here, baby.”
“I need to get a condom from my wallet.”
Hallelujah! He’d come prepared. That also indicated responsibility.
Derek kicked off his pants then bent to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. Joya removed what was left of her clothes. When Derek straightened he handed her the condom. “Come on, baby, help me slip this on.”
She used her hands and mouth to do so as Derek braced himself against the wall. His eyes were closed, his breathing strained. Rodents were forgotten. Joya stood on tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. Derek’s hands clamped around her buttocks and slowly lifted her until she was impaled. He began a slow sensuous thrust. With every entry, his thrusts grew in intensity as she jiggled and bounced against him, feeling as if she would burst out of her skin.
Derek nibbled on a nipple and Joya threw her head back. Her whole body ignited with the heat that seared through her. She was throbbing in places she didn’t think were possible. Then Derek’s whole body convulsed and with a final thrust he exploded. She bit down on his shoulder, let go and hurtled over the top.
Seconds turned to minutes and Derek still held onto her. Eventually he planted a kiss on her lips before setting her down. Then he retrieved the flashlight that had rolled into the corner, found his pants and climbed into them. Joya gathered her clothing and quickly got dressed. Without saying a word she followed him down the staircase and into the night.
Outside, the wind was still howling, but the rain had turned to drizzle. Only the occasional drenched stray dog roamed the boardwalk and there was no evidence of the aborted jam session.
Derek appeared lost in thought, and conversation was kept at a bare minimum. They walked back to Belle’s, where Joya had left her car. Awkward as this was turning out to be, she had no regrets. She’d done what felt right and had been a willing participant in their lovemaking. She’d come to it with no expectations beyond what had happened tonight. She only hoped Derek was of the same mind, since he hadn’t even tried holding her hand again.
When she reached her car, Derek gave her a peck on the cheek, the kind a brother gives a sister.
“Are you okay to drive?” he asked.
“I’m fine. The wine’s pretty much worn off. Thanks for spending your evening with me.”
“I’ve enjoyed every last second of it.” His finger grazed her cheek. “Drive safely now. See you Monday.”
Joya climbed into her vehicle and Derek shut the door. She waved at him and started up the car. It wasn’t until she was halfway across town that the full impact of what she’d done hit her. She’d made love to a man she barely knew. Worse than that, technically he was her employee and also one of her customers.
Enjoyable as it was, it just couldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it!
“I want to see what you did with my store,” Granny J insisted as Joya hung a left on Blue Heron.
“How about tomorrow, Gran? Today you really should stay in bed.”
She made another left on Bird Road and a right on Ibis. They were now only a few minutes from Flamingo Row.
Since Granny J had been released from the hospital she hadn’t stopped carping. She was in one of her stubborn moods.
Joya had picked her grandmother up in the Lincoln Continental figuring it would be a more comfortable ride, but granny hadn’t wanted to get comfortable. The store was all that she talked about and there was no changing the conversation.
After she’d parked the Lincoln in the back of the house, Joya tried once again.
“Tomorrow will be time enough, Gran,” she said, helping the old lady out of the back seat. Her bags could wait until after she’d gotten her settled. “Dr. Benjamin said you needed to be off your feet for at least a few more days. He wants you to take things slow.”
“It’s my store and I want to see it,” the old lady insisted, jerking her elbow out of Joya’s hold. “I’ll rest far better if I see what changes you’ve made.”
Instead of starting up the path to the house, Granny toddled across the scrap of back lawn and toward the front where the store was. Joya reluctantly followed her. It was impossible to talk Granny J out of anything after she’d made up her mind.
The old lady stood on the sidewalk staring at the Craftsman-style cottage that served double duty as both her home and her store. Her lips were pursed and she jiggled her foot.
“What’s with the window boxes? What’s with the geraniums and impatiens?”
“Don’t they look pretty?” Joya said, trying to appease her. “It makes Joya’s Quilts look festive and homey.”
“It looks like a little old lady’s house.”
Granny took a few hesitant steps up the walkway then mounted the three little steps leading to the porch.
“I don’t remember buying a wicker settee,” she muttered.
“You didn’t. Chet and Harley were going to throw it out in the trash. It seemed perfectly good to me so I asked if I could have it. Doesn’t it look pretty painted that nice rose color? It’s a good place to display quilts and they’re bound to catch the eyes of passersby. Did I tell you how well our sale did?”
“We’ve never had a sale. Didn’t need one.”
Granny J was breathing raggedly now. Climbing the few steps and her fussing had taken its toll. She leaned against a post on the verandah and looked out onto the still-quiet Flamingo Row. It was Sunday morning and most everyone was at church. They should have been, too, except Joya thought the old lady wasn’t ready for the long church service and the lengthy socializing afterward. She’d been right, Granny needed to rest.
“What are those iron things sticking up out of the ground over there?” Granny J asked. “A body’s liable to trip and hurt themselves. Since it’s my sidewalk we’ll probably get sued.”
Joya looked in the direction her grandmother was pointing. She’d asked the same question earlier that week.
“Those will eventually be flamingo
s, Gran. They’re being created in honor of the centennial. The city commissioned a sculptor from up north to make one hundred flamingos. They’re to be strategically placed through the town and citizens are invited to dress them. They’ll go up for auction shortly.”
Granny J snorted. “What nonsense.”
“Not nonsense, they’re potential money-makers for the Beach. There’ll be a prize for the best-dressed bird. There’s a lot of press associated with those birds. I’m thinking I could talk the city and the creator into putting one on our front lawn.”
Granny looked horrified. A hand clapped over her mouth. “Whatever for?”
“That flamingo will bring us business and we need money, Gran.”
She snorted again. “I can’t imagine who would want to spend money on a tarted-up flamingo?”
“Plenty of people. Some cities got big money for the pigs and cows they auctioned, so why not Flamingo Beach? I’m exhausted.”
Joya flopped onto the wicker two-seater hoping Gran would get the message and join her. But no, Granny J remained standing, a hand on the railing, trying her best not to huff and puff.
“Fine, we can have a pink flamingo on the front lawn if you think it would help business,” she said eventually. “But it’s got to wear a quilted dress and a sun bonnet that I make.”
“You got it, Gran.” Even though she was clearly tired, Granny’s enthusiasm was slowly returning. The senior citizen had gone through quite a bit these last few weeks. “You can design the outfit yourself and make it. Maybe we’ll even win the prize.”
“We’ll win. Just wait until you see what I have in mind.”
This was more like the old Gran she was used to, positive, obstinate and determined. Joya wondered what her reaction would be when she saw the store’s interior and what a difference the repositioning of furniture made. And that was the tip of the iceberg—when construction began tomorrow, Gran would really start yelping.
Thoughts of change brought to mind Derek. Joya’s cheeks grew heated at the thought of the unbridled passion they’d shared, their lack of inhibition and the fact that they’d been so in sync with each other’s needs.
Gran took her keys out of the ancient white leather purse she carried and struggled with the front door. Joya went to help her.
“Don’t treat me like an invalid,” she said. “I’m perfectly capable of opening up my own store. I’ve been doing it for years.”
Clamping her lips shut, Joya backed off.
Chapter 13
Harley Mancini stepped out of his illegally parked vehicle and onto the cobblestoned road.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Hamill,” he called. “Hi Joya. Glad to see you back. Did you get our flowers, Mrs. Hamill?”
“Yes, I did, thank you. I’ll be sending you a note.” Gran finally got the door opened and preceded Joya inside.
“Oh, my God, what happened here?” she said, clutching her heart.
Joya who was right behind her, and who had been anticipating a reaction, placed an arm around Granny J’s waist.
“Gran, I’ve organized a few things and moved some furniture so the merchandise shows to its best advantage.”
“You call this organized? This isn’t the store I remember. It’s a mess.” The old lady whirled around, clutching her heart again. Joya tightened her hand around Gran’s waist.
As she stepped inside the store, Joya realized why her grandmother had reacted in such an outraged manner. The place was a mess. Quilts had been swept off the shelves and lay in tangles on the floor. The walls were defaced by ugly graffiti and some of the furniture was broken. Even one of the sewing machines was smashed.
Joya gulped in a deep breath. She needed to stay calm. Her first priority was to get Granny seated—and fast. She spotted an old armchair still intact and led the shocked old lady over.
“I’ll get you a glass of water, Gran, and then I’m calling the police.”
“Police?” Gran repeated still in shock. “Why would we need the police?”
“Because we’ve been broken into. That window wasn’t open when I left.”
“I’ll call the police, you tend to your grandmother,” a deep male voice said from behind them.
Joya turned to see Derek standing at the entrance of the store surveying the destruction.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Get your grandmother water, and I’ll answer the question.”
Yes, yes, Gran should be her first priority. Joya hurried into the back room, not sure what state that would be in.
That room was in the same disastrous condition. It looked like a whirlwind had hit it. Someone had swept everything off the shelves and torn out the pages of Gran’s ledgers. Paperwork and ripped-up receipts were strewn all over the wooden floors. Joya found a glass, picked her way around the debris, and found the water cooler. She filled up the glass and hurried back.
Derek was on the phone talking to the police when Joya handed her grandmother the water.
“Take slow sips,” she instructed.
Granny J just held onto the glass staring vacantly out at the room.
“You need to get over here on the double,” Joya overheard Derek say to the police. “Yeah, it looks like there was a break-in. No, no one’s hurt.”
After Derek hung up he stepped over the destruction on the floor and came toward them.
“Mrs. Hamill, why don’t you go to bed? Joya and I will take it from here.”
“I’m not an invalid,” Granny J said, bristling, but she didn’t protest when Joya took both of her hands and helped her out of the chair.
“Take a nap for a couple of hours, Gran, while we deal with the cops and file a report.”
Joya helped her grandmother around the debris and toward the door leading to the private entrance. It took her almost half an hour to get Granny J settled because, emotionally exhausted as the old lady was, she just couldn’t fall asleep. Joya had to trick her into taking a sleeping pill.
When she returned to the store, a patrol car with Lionel and Greg was already there, and a small crowd had gathered on the verandah talking. Among them were Peter and Dustin Millard, owners of the Vintage Place next door and Chet and Harley from the flower shop.
Derek was still standing in the middle of the store where she’d left him, tight-lipped and wired.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, placing an arm around Joya’s shoulders and hugging her close.
Tears stung the back of Joya’s lids as she pressed her face into his shirt. Her heart hurt, but she still registered his familiar scent and welcomed his comfort. Derek smelled clean and felt safe. Right now he was the only support she had.
“I’ve been better,” Joya sniffed. “Gran sure as heck didn’t need to come home to this.”
“I’ll handle the officers if you’d like,” Derek offered. “I’d hoped to speak with you about sprucing up the store’s exterior, that’s why I came by, but that will have to wait.”
“I thought we were going to renovate the interior only?” Joya said, distracted, although at that moment she had more than renovations on her mind.
“We talked briefly about keeping all the stores’ exteriors the same, just adding a few unique touches to define what they’re about. For example, the bright colors and artistic signage tells you All About Flowers is a flower shop.”
It was an interesting concept, but right now there were other things on her mind, like this latest act of vandalism. Someone must have it in for Joya and her grandmother.
Derek, hearing the cop cars pull up out front, met the officers on the verandah and escorted them inside. Greg and Lionel stood taking in the mess.
“How come your alarm didn’t go off?” Lionel asked. “We’ll need the names of everyone who has keys or knows the security code.” He had a pad out.
“I have keys and so does my grandmother. Portia, our part-time employee has keys. And I’ve given keys to Shore Construction because they’re starting work tomorrow. The a
larm wasn’t on.”
Derek spoke up, “Shore Construction would be me and I assure you I had nothing to do with this.”
“That window was open when I came in.” She pointed to the open window and the chiffon curtain fluttering in the breeze.
Greg Santana navigated his way around the tossed items and came toward her. “First things first. We get a detective over to dust for fingerprints.” He was already speaking into a radio summoning help.
“Whoever it was came through that window rather than the front door, you think?” Lionel asked, stating the obvious. “Please don’t touch anything until the detective gets here.”
Despite Joya’s determination to stay strong, her eyes brimmed over with tears. Derek handed her a handkerchief from his back pocket, and she blew her nose loudly. She wanted to be strong, but it just wasn’t happening.
Two hours later, after being grilled by a detective and having had the store dusted for fingerprints, Joya went off to check on Granny J. Finding the old lady sleeping, she returned to the store. Derek was still there trying to put things back together.
Side by side they worked, reassembling furniture and putting items in the trash and through it all, the chemistry between them was palpable. If Derek glanced over at her it was as if she’d been zapped by a lightning bolt. Just having him here was a big help and it wasn’t only because he provided muscle.
How could she ever hope to pay him back? Derek would be insulted if she offered him money. Maybe…it was just an idea. Maybe she could ask him to escort her to the wedding. He could probably use an evening out.
She waited until they’d cleaned up almost everything before posing the question.
“What are you doing next Saturday evening?” Joya asked.
Derek folded a quilt with a Log Cabin pattern and placed it on a shelf. “Next Saturday is a long ways away. What did you have in mind?”
“How would you like to go with me to a wedding?”
“Quen and Chere’s wedding?”
He made it sound like he knew them.
Down and Out in Flamingo Beach Page 12
