“I don’t want to holler out the door. Please come inside.” She turned, not giving him the chance to refuse. He set the tools down on the veranda but kept the extension cord looped over his shoulder.
She held her hands over her belly to keep from touching him. “I’ve been rude and deliberately aggravating to you. I don’t understand why, exactly. I’m not usually so prickly.”
His lower lip was swollen. “Did I do that to your lip?”
He patted it. “You’re the only woman I kissed last night. And you’re the only woman who clamped her teeth on my lip when she came.” His gaze turned sexy in memory.
But she was mortified. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t break the skin, did I?”
“No.”
She palmed her shorts. “I have a plan.”
“That is?” He pursed his lips, winced and immediately loosened them.
“I did hurt you. I’m so sorry. Let me get you some ice to help the swelling.”
“No, I’m okay. It’s already come down a lot.” It was unexpectedly kind of him to reassure her. But when she opened her mouth to say so, he spoke quickly. “Before we mess up any more than we have, we should just avoid each other.”
“That’s not what I had in mind,” she blurted. “I want—”
He held up his hand to forestall her saying more. “Sex with you was unbelievable. Smoking hot, Kylie.” She warmed at his praise and opened her mouth. Again, he cut her off, this time with a finger to her lips. She badly wanted to draw the tip into her mouth and suck, but he spoke again. “We talk at cross purposes, mix up our signals, have some kind of weird chemical reaction that creates tension. We should just agree not to be friends, or even try. That way, no one gets hurt.” He shouldered past her and went into the kitchen.
She heard the freezer door open. He did need ice for his lip and it was her fault. She walked to the doorway and leaned on it with her arms crossed. “You’re right. You bring out the worst in me. I don’t know why, but there it is.” She watched as he tested an ice cube on his lip.
“I could kiss it better,” she offered. She wasn’t about to give up on her plan, not yet.
He narrowed his eyes. “See? Here we go again. You’re talking about kissing me with your eyes all huge and innocent. What I want to do, Kylie, is bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck you raw.”
The graphic image burned into her retinas and she stared at the counter, then caught the movement of the crew at the cabins. “They’d see,” she said.
“Right there, that comment. You make me think with my dick and that doesn’t work with our situation.”
“How?”
“Instead of being shocked or put off by the idea of me fucking you in the kitchen, you’re only worried about the men outside seeing us. It makes me think you want me to do everything I want.”
“I do.” There, it was out. He’d finally said what she’d come downstairs to tell him. “I have a plan that might work for us.”
He dabbed the ice cube to his lip. “I’m all ears, but keep in mind, I already know your low opinion of me so I don’t need to hear it again.”
Her blood heated but not with desire. “I’ve apologized for the sex tourist remark.” She forced herself to calm. “My plan is that we don’t spend time in each other’s company until after dinner when everyone else has left for the day.” She shifted her hips, aware of his sudden and complete stillness.
“So, we have wild sex every night, but ignore each other all day?”
“Pretty much, yes. Why ruin good sex with miscommunication?”
He pursed his lips as he considered. Then he shrugged and tossed the ice cube into the sink. “Works for me.” He walked back out to the veranda. As he picked up his power tools, he grinned. “Tonight, be naked by nine.”
Moisture slid to her crotch. “Don’t talk to me at dinner,” she warned. She didn’t want to ruin her chances of having another night like last night. Eli was wondrous in bed, even if he did leave for his own room when it was over. “I’ll be tired by dinner. Maybe even cranky.”
“No kiddin’.” He rolled his eyes, then whistled tunelessly as he strolled along the veranda and around the corner of the building.
In Seattle, Marnie rose on Saturday morning later than she planned and raced through her routine. After the busiest Friday night in recent memory, she’d tossed in her sheets, stressed over her lack of decision about TJ.
She’d been shaken with TJ’s assumption that she’d been saying good-bye. Was he right? Were things over between her and TJ? If they were done, it wasn’t TJ’s doing, because he made it clear in every gesture and glance her way that he cared deeply.
When they made love, there was no doubt that it was love-making. If she were honest, they’d never actually just had sex. From the first moment she’d climbed out of her car at the Friendly Inn, she’d been drawn to TJ in ways too complex to grasp.
In midshampoo she set her hands on the wall tile, overcome by the memory of seeing him for the first time again. The moment his name popped into her head and she’d said, “Thomas John,” a quiet tick-tick-tick had begun. A countdown to when she’d kiss him, hold him, sleep with him. Fall in love with him.
The shampoo suds ran down her face and back as she let herself enjoy the memory of those early moments of greeting. She’d been impressed by the man her old friend had grown into.
She still was. Steady, secure, strong. TJ O’Banion proved every bit of the promise he’d shown at fifteen. She touched her fingertips to her lips as she recalled the thrill of that kiss at the pond all those years ago.
That thrill was still between them today.
Oh, God. Was she going to walk away from him to pursue her dream? Was it possible that she could be so focused on her idea of success that she could leave him?
Last night, the club had been hopping from the moment she’d arrived. Drinks flowed, Mike had the crowd jumping with his new dance mix. She’d had to stay later than usual because people flat-out refused to let him stop.
Even Dennis had pitched in throughout the night, never once leaving for a break. Surely he’d see that BackLit had taken off. They’d reached a new high last night. Things would only get busier from here.
In a few weeks, she could approach the banks again. Her mind raced with possibilities in a way it hadn’t in months. Positive possibilities and opportunities abounded.
She finished rinsing her hair and the rest of her routine went by in a flash as she realized Dennis would be waiting for her. No matter what he said about the sex club idea, she’d throw some of her new thoughts at him.
He’d see the same opportunities she did. By the time she’d dressed and stepped out of her apartment, her thoughts were clearly focused on BackLit and her future.
She called Dennis as she exited her parking garage. “Are you on the way?”
“ETA ten minutes. I’ll meet you there.” His voice vibrated with energy. He was ready for their future, too.
She dropped her cell phone on the passenger seat before she gave in to the temptation to call TJ. She couldn’t think of him now; she needed to keep her head clear for the meeting with Dennis.
Excitement traced through her veins. Decision time. If Dennis agreed to wait for the inn to sell, she could buy him out of their partnership. BackLit would be hers.
The inn was her ace. He still didn’t know she held one-third of the place. Once the cabins were finished they could put the property on the market.
Holly would be fine. She could find a job she enjoyed, maybe go back to school. Kylie would stay in their lives, a fully accepted member of the Dawson clan.
That was what her newfound cousin really wanted. The family connection would soon outstrip her desire for the roots she craved. Roots weren’t about place, Marnie told herself, they were about relationships.
Everyone would win in this plan of hers. Everyone but TJ.
The light at the intersection straight ahead suddenly turned red. She slammed on her brakes in a sq
ueal of tires.
Horns blared, traffic whooshed by. Cars swerved. When she slid to a stop with only inches to spare, her knuckles showed bone white on the steering wheel. Even in a fishtail her car was too short to swing into the other lane.
Her cell phone slid off the seat and hit the floor. In the eery first seconds after the near-accident, all she could think was that she hadn’t told TJ how much he meant to her. How much she loved him.
The car behind her honked once to get her attention and she saw that the light had changed to green again. The rest of her short commute she stayed hypersensitive to every light, pedestrian and especially all the other cars on the road.
Dennis’s car was already in his reserved spot, a sign that at least he realized the seriousness of the meeting. Their office door was unlocked and she stepped in to see Dennis at his desk, head thrown back as he studied the ceiling.
“Hi, you’re here already.” She breezed in and set her purse on her desk and made for the coffee. “Thanks for making coffee,” she said. “But I nearly got creamed coming in here today and I need something to calm my nerves, not wake me up!” She dug out a bag of herbal tea from her desk drawer.
“I’ve thought long and hard about this sex club idea of yours,” she said, as she pulled out the single burner hot plate they kept for just this kind of morning. She walked to the bathroom to fill the small kettle with water for her tea. “The profits are there, Dennis, as is the interest in that kind of club. We’ve got a great location, too.” He’d been right about word-of-mouth, especially within the lifestyle.
When she returned with the full kettle, she caught a look of ecstacy on her partner’s face. She’d missed the cues again. When did Dennis ever study the ceiling to think? He jerked and grunted, then ended off with a chuckle.
“Who’s under your desk?” Maybe the blonde from before. Or the brunette from his threesome, or maybe both again.
The blonde, she realized as a woman’s head appeared from under the desk. “Thanks, babe. Took the edge off,” he said as he zipped up, then helped the woman crawl out into the room.
Marnie nearly dropped the kettle where she stood as Tisha rose to her full height and patted him on the shoulder. “No problem.” She turned and tidied the corners of her mouth, her eyes assessing Marnie with chilly dislike.
“And here I thought you were an afternoon kind of guy,” Marnie said dryly. What next? To Tisha, she said, “Nice to see you again. Now, excuse us, we have business to attend to.”
“Be nice to me,” Tisha said with a pout. “I told you I wanted Dennis. I’m willing to share.”
“Get out.”
“You’d better go, babe,” Dennis agreed and stood. He walked her to the door, handing her his car keys.
As soon as the door shut, Marnie said, “Jesus, Dennis, you’re more stupid than I thought.”
“You think so?” His smile moved into predatory. “Didn’t you just say I had a great idea on the fantasy club? That you could see the profits even from that tree museum up in no-man’s land?”
She set her kettle on the hot plate while she gathered her thoughts. Motioning him to his desk, she took her seat and then folded her hands in front of her. “As far as the fantasy club goes, I think it’s viable. But last night, the club was screaming. Mike had the crowd eating out of his hand.”
“That crowd was mine,” he said, studying his manicure.
She thought back over the crowd. Most of them were regulars, but some she’d never seen before. “Maybe they showed up because you’re putting the word out.” The kettle whistled and she rose to pour the water. “But they stayed for the dancing and the music.” And the atmosphere.
She brought her steeping tea back to her desk and sat again. As she’d so often seen, he steepled his fingers and looked at her with interest. Not male interest, but flat curiosity as if he’d never quite figured her out and no longer cared to. “Tisha doesn’t have a sugar daddy like you assumed. The money’s hers.”
“Surprise, surprise.” She remembered now that Tisha had hoped it would be Dennis who visited her. “Maybe I was wrong about Tisha after all.”
“She wants to buy in.”
He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d said he was going into a seminary. “To BackLit?” If she wanted two partners instead of one, she’d choose her cousins before she’d partner up with Dennis and his girly.
She closed her eyes and a picture of the inn popped up. Not rundown and filthy, but clean and fresh, the red door and furniture on the veranda welcoming and warm. She dipped her tea bag as she considered the image. Swirls of color ran through the hot water and the scent of chamomile filled her nose. “Tisha wants to buy into the club with us? She’s got that kind of money?”
“Yeah, that’s what she says. Except—”
“She doesn’t want it to stay a dance club.”
“Right.”
“She’s into the lifestyle, as you call it.”
“Riiiight.” He looked pleased that she’d caught on so easily.
“Then good luck.” Her first sip of tea was always the best and she savored this one.
Dennis dropped his feet with a heavy thud. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“Good luck with Tisha and your new fantasy club. If she’s got enough to buy me out of our partnership, then more power to you.”
“What?”
“You look surprised.” More, he looked thunderstruck, then he blustered and a whine built in his throat.
“But I can’t do it without you. I’m no good at the day-today shit and you know it.” He stood and paced, much the way she had countless times when money was tight and they could barely pay wages.
Keeping Dennis under control had become a full-time job. He had as much personal restraint as a boy with a girly magazine when it came to spending money. He could blow through a weekend’s profit in no time. To see him on edge and actually worried felt oddly satisfying.
“Careful, Dennis, those frown lines might stay on your face.” He was already coloring his hair. He thought she didn’t know, but three months ago he’d lost the silver at his temples. Overnight. “I’m sure Tisha can pick up the slack, just the way I always did.”
“You have to stay,” he blurted. “Everything you have, everything you ever wanted is here!”
“Everything I’ve ever wanted is”—the realization came softly and fell with the light tinkling sound of a fairy’s laugh—“is in a tree museum.” Starting with TJ O’Banion.
Late Saturday afternoon Kylie and Holly dragged and pushed their grandfather’s furniture into the middle of his bedroom. They could have asked the men for help, but they were busy setting the remaining logs on the first cabin. The walls were expected to be done by dinnertime.
“It’ll be brighter in here once we’ve cleaned.” The exterior wall was the only one with exposed logs. Like the log walls in the living room, dust had settled, turning the light-colored cedar gray with dust.
The interior walls were smooth drywall and easier to wash. Still, when Kylie had run her hand down the wall, she’d seen streaks of dirt on her fingers and palm.
Holly grunted over the nightstand and shoved it toward the pile of other furniture. The foot of the stand caught on a raised nail in a floorboard and nearly toppled. A drawer flew open and she swore. “Catch that stuff, Kylie. It could be important.”
She picked up a book of crosswords, never started. A sheaf of sketches of furniture pieces. “The old man had a talent for this.” She held up a sheet of graph paper with a sketch of the coffee table.
Holly took it and gave it a long look. “I didn’t know. This is exactly how the table turned out.”
“The rest just looks like letters and notes.” She set them aside on the floor by the door. “We’ll recycle everything later.” But a name caught her eye and she crouched to read more. “This is a letter…”
“Yes, so?”
“To my mother,” she said, only half-hearing her own voice. She shuffled the top
sheet to the side and looked at the next page. “And another. ‘Dear Trudy,’” she read aloud. “On the next one he starts with ‘My darling daughter,’” she looked up from her crouch at her cousin’s stricken face.
“He wrote to her?”
Kylie nodded. “For years. Look at the dates.” She fanned the letters out. “But he never mailed them. A lot of the letters are unfinished.”
“Oh, Kylie, he never found the words, but at least he tried.”
Kylie hardened her heart. “No, he could have phoned. He could have got her a message through her brothers. He didn’t care to, that’s all.” But she knew the truth now because she’d seen the hatred in his eyes. He’d never been in touch because of Kylie. Because of who her father may have been. She could hardly stand to be in there with his sorrow and loss.
Not for her. Never for her.
“Stupid old man, he was stubborn to a fault,” Holly declared.
“I guess he kept his thoughts to himself. He probably figured there was time to set things right with my mother.” But her car accident had ended any hope of reconciliation.
Holly made a doubtful face. “Maybe he hoped she’d show up at this bedside for a deathbed father-daughter lovefest. Reunions like that are rumored to happen.”
“Well, it sure wasn’t going to happen with me!”
“I’m sorry he behaved so badly when you came to meet him.”
“Me, too.”
“I’m more sorry for him because he missed out on knowing what a great person you are. You’re talented, smart, funny and so gorgeous it would be easy to hate you if you weren’t so warm.”
Kylie squeezed her eyes shut so tears wouldn’t leak down her cheeks. “That’s so sweet, Holly. I appreciate it.”
Holly moved in close for a hug. “You’ll always be family, Kylie. No matter what happens with the inn, we’ll never lose touch.”
“Have you heard anything from Marnie?”
“Not a word. I’ve called but her phone’s shut off. It’s not like her, but she’s deep into negotiations with her partner, so she may want time to think.”
“About TJ?”
Men Times Three Page 25
