Wild. Harsh. Different from Portland’s more temperate climate.
The island he was considering for purchase came into view. Glacier-carved fjords extended into granite-ledged misty mountains. It was small, but accessible by floatplane, helicopter or boat. Wildlife reportedly abounded.
Ginnie had moved like a wild thing beneath him the night before.
How had Ginnie wormed her way so far into his head? Every detail of her body was carved into his memory. Her scent. Her sounds. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, even when he was a thousand miles away.
Harry hit the side of the plane, cursing.
“Sir?”
“Yes?” Harry snapped, then shook his head. No need to take it out on the staff. It wasn’t their fault. What was the flight attendant’s name? “Yvonne,” he remembered. “I’d be grateful for another coffee. And have the pilot take us around the island five or six times. I want to look at it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ginnie had been glorious, the way she’d given over sexual control to him. He wished he didn’t feel so damn touched that she trusted him. When she’d repeated the word “always” toward the end, he’d felt their minds reach a strange synchronicity, as if following the tempo of their bodies binding themselves together, never wanting it to end.
Always.
Forever.
It had scared the hell out of him.
For most of the year, he’d been craving the ideal of being master of his domain, without a care except his work—the thing he had absolute control over. Never again would he have to worry about former friends or colleagues rejecting him. Never again would he have to experience the particularly hurtful betrayal of a woman—one he’d loved.
With all the money he’d made by selling off much of Sharpe Industries and the significant amount he made and would continue to make as a real estate investor and financial planner, he could attain his goal of perfect peace and security, surrounded by nature and beauty, without a concern in the world. He could fly to Portland headquarters once per month, just to make sure his company was implementing his wishes, but the bulk of his workload could be handled electronically.
Maybe money couldn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell could buy off problems and uncertainty. He could build a magnificent mansion near that slender ribbon of river he could see just off the balcony and wire the whole house for optimum connectivity and security. He’d do some of the construction labor himself, of course. He found it soothing, on occasion, to apply his knowledge of housing structure in the most fundamental fashion. Building a house. And on that lake he saw down there, he’d have a fishing boat. He probably wouldn’t build that one. He didn’t know boats inside and out the way he knew houses. There would be nothing but open sky and trees and wild animals to bother him.
No neighbors within sight or sound. No children. Nobody.
Harry wondered how the repairs on Ginnie’s rental house were coming along. He’d kissed her good-bye in the morning as she’d slept. She’d murmured a little and turned onto her back, right in the middle of the bed. He’d been tempted to crawl back under the covers and move her back to her own side, in his own special way.
No! he told himself firmly. Look at the slope of the hill to the southeast, see how it settles into a verdant meadow? That would be the perfect place for a stable, and a garage for a small plane and a helicopter, and a snowmobile for the wintertime.
No neighbors even within driving distance.
If he ever did crave companionship, people were only as far away as a short helicopter ride.
Ginnie thought he was beginning a relationship with her, but he wasn’t. He wouldn’t. Loving her would be as bad a risk as a high-growth stock in a bear market. He wasn’t about to chance another manipulative woman fighting dirty to gain control over him the moment things weren’t going her way. He couldn’t go through that again.
“Take us down in Juneau,” he commanded abruptly. He’d put his money on the island before he could change his mind. It would be suitable for him, perfect for the recluse he intended to remain.
Harry gazed down at his remote future home until it receded into Southeast Alaska’s mists.
If only Ginnie would fade as easily from his mind.
“That’s so…naughty.” Lara covered her eyes, leaving plenty of gap between her fingers. Ginnie watched her as Lara continued to peek at the worker.
“Is it safe to look yet?” Ginnie asked after a few moments.
“Not yet.” Lara grinned, then, surprisingly, raised her hand above her head. She waved.
“You didn’t just wave to him. Tell me you didn’t just wave to him.”
Lara laughed, unrepentant. “I just waved to him. Wow, you can see his hunka-hunka all the way from here.”
“Still?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s giving me a show, at this point. Either that or he really had to go badly.”
“Some show! He’s peeing on my daffodils!”
“At least they’re yellow.” Lara cocked her head. “The repaired automated sprinkler system will rinse ’em off.”
Ginnie felt suddenly proud of her new friend. “You remembered I have an auto sprinkler system. You’re fixing everything back to better than it was before. You’re not even the property manager.”
“I am now.” Lara grinned. “They promoted me. And, unlike Darlene, I did my homework and I know my stuff. And I have a conscience. You need friends in a situation like this.” Lara gave Ginnie a frank stare. “You could use the allies, being in a new state by yourself and all. Especially now.”
The surge of gratitude shook Ginnie. Her emotions were on one monster of a roller coaster ride, between the wrecked house, Rick and, of course, Harry. Lara’s kind words were more of a comfort than she knew. “Thank you.”
“Least I can do. Besides, where else am I going to find such a fine concentration of man-candy construction workers?”
Ginnie muttered a comment about toilet training.
Lara emitted an unladylike bark of laughter. “They’re wild, they’re really hot, there’s a couple dozen of them and they’re probably a lot of fun. Construction workers usually are.”
“Slut!” But Ginnie grinned.
“Mr. Golden Showers over there isn’t in construction,” Lara continued, ignoring her. “He’s part of the landscaping crew. Clearly he missed his calling. He should have been a plumber.”
Both women cracked up.
Ginnie never saw the men approach, though she thought Lara had. It was in her mischievous smile and the glint in her eyes.
“Hi, ladies.”
Ginnie blushed. She recognized the work boots on Mr. Golden Showers. She raised her gaze to his friend rather than him. “Howdy,” said the cute, curly-haired worker. “I’m Ed, and this is my friend Burton.” Ed winked at her.
“I’m Ginnie. I used to live in this house.” Ginnie wasn’t at all attracted to Ed, though his looks were blameless and he seemed nice. “I have a boyfriend,” she blurted out.
An awkward silence descended.
Thankfully, Lara smoothly took over the conversation, flirting with both men while including Ginnie with easy, socially bubbly graciousness. For her part, Ginnie admired Lara once again, this time for her outgoing social skills with two strange men—one of whom had inadvertently flashed her. She hoped it was inadvertent. Though Lara was right, it was pretty funny.
As Ginnie stood witnessing their banter, controlling nothing and no one, she realized the old tension hadn’t gripped her. No sense of powerlessness compelled her to interrupt or direct their exchange.
Which was a good thing. When it came to how to manage workers who peed on your foliage then flirted with you, Ginnie hadn’t a clue. Clearly Lara did.
After the workers went back to breaking down two-by-fours to make them easier to transport, Lara shook her head. “They’re too transparent. I mean, you waggle your meat at me, you better at least make an honest effort to move the conversation beyond sex. What d
id he think, that I was just going to lie down in the bushes?”
“Pee-stained bushes.”
“And you.” Lara wheeled on her, mock severe. “A boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?” She looked at her watch. “We have awhile before the city permit people are due to get here. Come on.” They walked.
“Aside from your crumbled abode,” Lara quipped, “which will be fixed up much better than new, this is actually a lovely neighborhood. Darlene was right about that, at least. So. What’s this about your having a boyfriend? Harry, right? I was afraid of this.”
“You did warn me. But he’s just…he’s it, Lara. He’s the one.”
“Oh, no.” Lara stopped walking and turned to face Ginnie. “He’s still a workaholic who doesn’t want a relationship. Right? Has that changed?”
Ginnie remained silent. He hadn’t even been there when she’d woken up.
“I didn’t think it had. He’s emotionally unavailable. He won’t change, and you can’t make him. Oh, babe, don’t look like that.” Lara appeared pained. “Maybe I’m wrong. I probably am. Look at the specimens I’ve got sniffing after me.” She nodded toward Ginnie’s backyard, coaxing a smile.
“Speaking of specimens, I had a bigger prize than Golden Showers come after me last night,” Ginnie said. “My ex dropped by and tried to drag me home with him!”
Lara’s shocked astonishment was gratifying. Ginnie told the story, finishing with, “And then Harry got all protective in front of me and told Rick, ‘Get in your car, drive away, and don’t come back.’ It was so romantic.” Ginnie felt all melty, remembering.
“You have it bad.” Lara was grave. “You need to get your mind off Harry. Sure we can’t double-date some cute construction workers? Some fun surveyor dudes, or sizzling-hot electricians?” She looked at the men buzzing around Ginnie’s house-in-progress, then back to her hopefully. “C’mon, it’ll be good for you.”
Privately Ginnie was convinced Lara just wanted the excuse to sample the workers, like trying on new clothes. She was clearly man-crazy. Maybe even too eager. It seemed odd she’d have to be, considering how pretty, likeable and vivacious Lara was.
Ginnie said, “With my new job, I’m not going to have time for any man. Oh, I forgot to tell you!” She beamed with delight, happily sharing the good news of her new position as a freelance puppeteer. “It’s a fraction of the pay, but I’m already so much happier. Doing puppet shows for kids, challenged kids and mentally handicapped adults is the kind of thing I’ve always wanted to do. So gratifying. I have The Frog Prince and some private birthday parties to do, but the first big school auditorium show is next month.”
“Yeah? That’s fabulous! Open to the public? Maybe I’ll bring a date,” Lara said, once more eyeing the workers.
“Go for it,” Ginnie said, even as Lara excused herself to go talk to a shirtless roofer.
Maybe Harry would want to come. The thought made her heartbeat speed up. It wasn’t completely the excitement of being around him, though that alone was plenty to get her blood pumping.
It was the idea of him choosing to be a part of her life. Supporting her. Feeling proud of her.
Accepting her—unconditionally.
Seeing him in the audience, interacting with the kids, grinning and laughing at the marionette’s antics… Harry, whole and healed and accepting her as she was. It was a thought to bring tears to her eyes.
Their physical relationship was compelling enough, even astonishing, but there was more to Harry, something that made her heart warm and seem to expand whenever she thought of meeting his gaze or being touched by those clever hands of his. She’d never known anyone else like him.
Ginnie ached with longing. Was it too good to be true?
Chapter Eight
Ginnie adjusted the amplification during intermission. She checked the microphone positions, the lighting and, lastly, the music queue. Wouldn’t do to launch into a Fang, the Too-Long-Tooth Chipmunk set with the soundtrack to Pokem Bellies.
She’d performed singly before. A one-woman show was nothing new to her.
But this… She had to admit she was worried.
She paced behind her portable ten-by-ten stage, resisting the urge to again peek through the crack in the heavy velvet curtains at the children seated on the blanket in front. She was afraid she’d see the apathetic, drooling face of the birthday boy still staring at a space on the ground in front of him.
What had she been thinking? To believe she was ready to go freelance even part of the time, performing for a specialty audience that probably required ten times her level of experience?
She’d kicked off the birthday show with Pinocchio, the most famous marionette of all time, telling lies until his nose grew so long it popped his own birthday balloon (she’d inserted a small needle at nose-end, just to make sure of the effect). The show was supposed to proceed with Pinocchio going from child to child until one of them gave him a replacement balloon, at which point the generous child was rewarded with ten larger balloons.
A fun show, with a valuable lesson for the kids to remember.
Only, these kids had reacted badly to Pinocchio’s nose. When he approached them for a balloon, they ran screaming. It became clear they were afraid of being impaled by the balloon-killing needle nose. Ginnie was forced to cut the set short and give every child extra balloons, just to calm them.
The Pokem Bellies starred The Pokem Brothers, who never, ever laughed. They didn’t know how. The two marionettes discovered their ability to laugh when one accidentally poked the other in the belly. Soon they were poking each other in the belly, evoking more and more laughter, and then they invited audience participation. At least that set had gone over well. The birthday boy had smiled vaguely, and the soundtrack had others boogying in their spots and slapping the ground when they weren’t poking each other in the belly.
She had to wow them in the last act.
Ginnie started the music for The Magic Show. Three puppets contended for the prize of being voted the best magician. First, The Fat Lady ambled out, taking up much of the stage. At a drum roll, she blew bubbles out of her ear.
Ginnie heard one or two people clap.
Swallowing nervously, she manipulated the second marionette onto the stage. John the Tall proved he could make a coin disappear from a glass, using only a handkerchief and a piece of colored construction paper.
Only one person clapped. Ginnie was pretty sure it was the birthday boy’s mom.
Feeling the sickening moistness of flop sweat on her upper lip, Ginnie trotted out the last contestant, Little Jeffrey. The likeable freckled marionette waited for the drum roll, then opened his chest to remove a large speckled jellybean!
Nobody clapped.
Nobody.
Ginnie walked the marionette forward with numbed fingers.
Little Jeffrey held out the jellybean to the birthday boy, who took it indifferently, put it into his mouth and chewed. He immediately made a face and spat it out.
Enough of a professional not to react, Ginnie simply ran through the rest of the set, getting the three puppets on stage all at once for the birthday boy to vote for the one with the best magic trick.
“Is it…The Fat Lady?” Ginnie dragged the large puppet ponderously back and forth.
Silence.
She picked up the strings for John the Tall. “How about…John the Tall?”
Silence.
Ginnie’s heart plunged. This was a total disaster.
Still, the show had to go on.
“Then, it must be…Little Jeffrey and his jellybean trick!”
The birthday boy scuffed a shoe against the other. It was enough.
“Little Jeffrey it is! The winner and all-time Abracadabra champ! Yay!” Ginnie made the marionette boogie his way from the stage, reminded suddenly of Harry dancing his puppet with hers. Back when she’d thought she was a good puppeteer, a solid performer.
A vast despair filled her. She’d bombed.
“Excuse m
e?”
Ginnie turned, trying to paste a smile on her face. The mother of the birthday boy stood before her. Probably wanted to ask for her money back, Ginnie thought, and who could blame her?
She’d brought the little guy with her, Ginnie noticed. He hid half behind his mother’s khaki-covered leg, half of one small fist crammed in his mouth.
“Hi there,” Ginnie said to him.
The mother cleared her throat.
“I know,” Ginnie began. “Let me just go get your original check—”
“Pokem Bellies,” said the birthday boy.
The mother startled Ginnie by whirling and sinking to her knees before him. “Oh, honey.”
Ginnie stared, confused.
“Pokem Bellies, Pokem Bellies.” He poked himself in the belly and looked pleased with himself.
The mother looked up. Tears ran down her face. “He’s never spoken before. Not actual words. He’s finally… I never thought he’d…” She raised her hands to her face, wiped her eyes. “Thank you,” she breathed.
“Oh.” Ginnie got it. “He’s never said anything before? At all?”
“No.” The look of pure joy the mother turned on her made Ginnie feel strange. Giddy.
She hadn’t been a flop after all.
“You’re welcome,” she said feelingly. “I’m so very, very glad for you.”
The mother suddenly enveloped her in a hug. “Your show is a miracle. You’re a miracle.”
Affection for this caring woman suffused Ginnie. If only she could have as sweet and emotional a mother. “You’re very welcome. I’m glad the show helped.”
“It’s wonderful. I’m going to tell everyone in the Portland chapter of Challenged Learning to give you a call.”
After the woman and her son walked away, Ginnie stared after them for a moment. The exhilaration she felt wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while, she knew. “I’m a miracle,” she said softly to herself. Suddenly she boogied, much like her puppet had earlier. Fists clenched, eyes shut, gyrating wildly in a victory dance of one.
Hands On Page 11
