Tasting Fear

by Shannon McKenna

  “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, then.” A dazzling smile, and the bells tinkled as he walked out.

  Breath escaped slowly from Vivi’s lungs. She was terrified at how happy she was, but the feeling was marred by a keen edge of uncertainty. She was trying to get used to uncertainty, but it still rattled her.

  The last few weeks were like a dream. The two of them spent every waking moment that they weren’t working together. She was sleeping in his bed, eating with him, living in his house. The apartment in the barn had turned into her studio, when she worked at all. She’d never been so distracted, so knocked off track. She was drinking too much of his powerful coffee, soaking in his big tub, eating his excellent cooking, wearing his huge shirts around.

  Their hungry, intense lovemaking left her drained, shivering, empty of thought. When she was in that condition, she could stay in the moment, as he’d begged her to do. And she was in that condition a lot.

  She’d gone on with her plan of opening a shop, in spite of Jack’s anger and protests, and the objections of her sisters. If she wanted to put down roots, she had to get on with it.

  She tried to protect herself emotionally, the way Jack shielded himself from her, but he was intensely sensitive to her moods. When he sensed her withdrawing, he promptly seduced her and rendered her mindless and whimpering. But he never let down his own guard.

  Patience. They belonged together. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They’d made progress. For God’s sake, they were going dancing tonight. How very normal of them. That was progress.

  Everything else was perfect. The trendy location she’d found for her shop in Pebble River was ideal. A local woodworking shop was making a carved hanging sign that read “Vivi’s Treasure Box.” Glass-fronted cabinets were ordered and on their way. She’d organized wholesale accounts with the most talented artists she knew. Her credit was maxed to the limit, but hey. Life was risk. She could stand it. All she had to do was persuade Jack that they had a future together. The biggest risk she’d ever taken. The highest stakes. All or nothing.

  But she had no idea what she would do with herself if she lost.

  The breeze was warm at the riverfront park. The sensual blues tunes of the band from Portland pulsed through the evening air. A slow romantic song began, and Vivi and Jack merged without a word, swaying like a single body.

  It was really happening for her, Vivi thought, in a haze of unbelieving happiness. They were going to let their fears and hesitations go. Together, they formed something greater than the sum of their parts. The music throbbed around them, and his body was the core of her spinning universe. She would never find another man so right for her, who moved her so deeply, and now was the moment to tell him. He was ready to listen. She could feel it.

  She was so enthralled as she stretched up to whisper in his ear, she barely noticed the large hand tapping on her shoulder.

  A big, booming voice intruded on her consciousness. “Vivi? Viv D’Onofrio? Sweet thing, is it really you?”

  Vivi turned. A stocky blond man with a goatee, a waxed moustache, and a purple silk shirt stood smiling at her. A narrow tie dotted with suns and moons adorned his shirt. Vivi tried to place him, and he grinned widely, revealing his trademark golden eyeteeth.

  “Rafael!” she cried out, as he enveloped her in a bear hug. “Is it you? What happened to the beard, the dreadlocks, the tie-dye?”

  “And this is my disheveled pixie Vivi? You look stunning. That long, long hair! I could eat you up with a spoon! Give me another hug!”

  “Put her down.” Jack’s voice was quiet, but authoritative.

  Rafael swiveled his head, leaving Vivi’s feet dangling a foot off the ground. He took one look at Jack. She thudded heavily to the ground.

  Rafael’s widened eyes traveled the length and breadth of Jack’s body. “Viv!” he exclaimed. “You devil, you! Where did you find this one?”

  “Jack, this is Rafael, my buddy from art school, the guy I told you about. Rafael, this is Jack Kendrick. My van got stuck in his mud.”

  “How provocative,” Rafael murmured. “The van clued me in that you were here. I saw it in the parking lot, and I’ve been prowling the grounds looking for you. And what does this Jack Kendrick do?”

  Jack blinked at him, quizzically. “Uh…”

  “He grows flowers,” Vivi supplied.

  “How picturesque. I love it.” Rafael’s golden teeth flashed. “What are you doing in these parts, angel? Apart from, ah…the obvious.” His gaze flashed toward Jack, eyebrows waggling wildly.

  “I’m starting a business in Pebble River,” she said.

  Rafael’s eyebrows shot up. “Putting down roots?”

  God, she hoped. “I’m burnt on the crafts fairs. But enough about me. Tell me about your transformation. Are you respectable now?”

  “Prosperous, my dear. Different from respectable,” he said, fingering a diamond that glinted discreetly in his ear. “Remember Rudolfo, the promoter of the show we did in Monterey? He made me his site manager, and one thing led to another, and now I’m a promoter!”

  “That’s great, Rafael! I’m so happy for you!”

  Rafael twirled a diamond solitaire ring on his finger, batting his eyes. “Thank you. I was so ready to change my image. You should see me in full regalia! Armani, Prada. I look like a million bucks.”

  She tugged his tie affectionately. “What brings you here?”

  “Business. I was in San Francisco, setting up a gallery show. And I’m heading back to New York tomorrow, because some clients are flying in from London on Saturday—”

  “Whoa, you’re riding high!” she said, impressed. “The last time I saw you, we were roasting hot dogs around a campfire!”

  “Life marches on! The art in my New York gallery can be seen by appointment only, I’ll have you know,” Rafael said proudly. “Artists would kill to show me their work. I act disgustingly self-important. You’d laugh your head off if you saw. Anyway, this band is a fave of mine, so I popped over from Portland to see the concert before I fly back to New York, and am I glad! I’ve been desperate to get in touch with you! I have the perfect job for you, love. Mine!”

  Vivi squinted at him, confused. “What? Yours? How?”

  “You heard me. My clientele is growing, and I’m putting together high-end shows that travel, but with my gallery in New York, I can’t always be on the move. I need a curator and site manager. You could do for me what I did for Rudolfo. I’m talking invitational shows, where you handpick the artists, jury the art, curate the show, plan the tour, choose galleries, lofts, ballrooms, hotels. The money is extremely good. And a canny career move for a developing artist, if I may advise you.”

  “Wow,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s a very generous offer, but—”

  “Don’t make snap decisions!” Rafael admonished. “This job has been good to me. I want to pass on the good fortune! Think about it!”

  “I’m speechless,” Vivi said, touched. “It’s kind of you to think of me, but the truth is, my life is complicated right now. And I’m kind of in the midst of something here.”

  “I can see that!” Rafael eyed Jack with blatant approval. “But let me just explain how perfect my job is for you.”

  Vivi abruptly became aware of the quality of Jack’s fierce, silent attention. “Um, Rafael, do you suppose we could meet for coffee and talk about this tomorrow? Now is not the best time for—”

  “What better time? We arranged this time in the astral plane! I have to catch a plane tomorrow. Seize the moment!” Rafael took her arm and led her away from the crowd. Vivi glanced uncomfortably back at Jack. He followed closely, his face unreadable.

  “Listen carefully,” Rafael began earnestly. “A sample month in the life of Vivi D’Onofrio, art promoter. One week in San Francisco, eating sushi and going to the opera. The next week in Berkeley, taking in wild experimental theater. A tour of the wine country in between. On to Los Angeles, San Diego, Santa Fe, always a different
view. No fleabag motels, no moldy campground showers. You eat in award-winning restaurants, you sleep in five-star hotels. You deal in outrageously expensive art. It’s fun, stimulating, challenging. What do you say?”

  “You know money has never been a big priority for me—”

  “Oh, I know.” Rafael patted her shoulder. “But just try making lots of money for a while, and see how fast you get used to it.”

  “The real reason is not the money,” she plodded on. “I’m—”

  “This job is your way back into the high-end art world! Everything that bastard Wilder took from you, you can have again! I’m not suggesting you be a site manager or curator forever. I’m thinking about your long-term artistic career! If you go this road, with the contacts you develop, you can write your own ticket!”

  “But my shop is already organized, and I—”

  “A little shop in a little town has its charm, but think about it. Work with me for a while, and that scumbag Wilder will be eating your exhaust. Just imagine the satisfaction.”

  Vivi imagined it. She twisted gently out of Rafael’s grip and wrapped her arms across her chest. Shivering, although the night was warm. The crowd swirled around them, but the music faded to the background of her mind as she pondered the images.

  The big-time art world. Success, fame, money. The life she’d dreamed of as a struggling young artist. It didn’t make her heartbeat quicken anymore. She lifted her gaze past her friend’s expectant face, to where Jack stood, behind him. His stance rigid. Eyes fixed on her.

  That life didn’t include Jack. The finality of that fact sent a stab of nervous panic through her. “Ah…ah, it’s tempting, but—”

  “And you could play fairy godmother to your artist friends! You’d have the power to bring their stuff to the attention of the high-end buyers! You could change their lives! Wouldn’t that be grand?”

  Vivi took a slow breath. “It sounds great, but I found a perfect location for my shop. I’m content with that. I’m staying put.”

  She twisted to see if Jack was still listening. He was close behind, but when she tried to meet his eyes, he looked straight ahead.

  Rafael’s gaze shifted, from Vivi to Jack, back again. “Ah. I understand, angel. You just think about it. I won’t push.”

  Vivi turned to Jack and reached out to take his hand. “The band is starting another song. Let’s go back near the stage, okay?”

  Jack’s hand was stiff, unresponsive. “I’m ready to leave,” he said.

  Rafael’s smile faded. He looked at Jack fingering the waxed ends of his moustache. “I hope I haven’t put you in a tight place, love,” he said. “Will you think about it?”

  “Certainly, I’ll think about it,” Vivi said quietly. “And thank you. It’s a beautiful offer, and you’re a wonderful friend.”

  Rafael gave her an impulsive hug. “Give me your cell number. Promise me you’ll give it some serious thought. I’ll walk you out to the van.”

  She pulled out her phone. “I don’t get much mobile coverage out where I live,” she told him. “I’ll give you the landline number at my shop, and at Jack’s house, too.”

  They exchanged various numbers as they strolled. Rafael’s eyes grew nostalgic as they stopped at the van. He turned to Jack. “Did Viv tell you that I—”

  “Yeah, she told me,” Jack said dourly. “You painted the serpent.”

  Rafael’s eyes turned dreamy. “This was my best van painting. I’d be more than willing to paint the other side for you, love. How about a portrait of the two of you? Chain-mail bathing suits, shreds of fur, a flaming sword? You can be hugging his leg. I love it when the girl hugs the guy’s leg.” His gaze flicked to Jack’s muscular thigh. “Mmmm.”

  “Oh, no, that’s okay,” Vivi said quickly. “I like just having the one.”

  “I had such wild times in that van,” Rafael reminisced. “One night Billy and Ronnie and I got some tequila and limes and salt, and we—”

  “You told me that story,” Vivi interrupted hastily.

  “I painted that scene after I broke up with Ronnie,” Rafael said, wistfully. “That was my ‘man-alone-battling-his-demons’ period.”

  “Yeah, that about sums up the last few years of my life, too,” Vivi said ruefully. She dug her keys out of her purse and gave Rafael a hug. “It was great to see you, Rafael. I’m happy to see you doing so well.”

  “Thank you, angel. Let me know what you decide. Contact me on the astral plane, by all means, but call my cell phone, too, okay?”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

  Jack climbed into the van and slammed his door shut. Rafael waved exuberantly as she backed out of the parking spot.

  The silence was unbearable in the van. Jack sat like a graven image in the dark, not responding to her attempts to speak. They got to the toll bridge, and she scrabbled in the dark for quarters. He handed her the change. The small contact gave her courage.

  She flung them into the basket. “Jack,” she began.

  “Don’t start,” he said, in the cool, detached voice she had not heard for weeks. Not since before they had become lovers.

  “But you have the wrong idea. Rafael is a good friend, but he talks too much, and he has no idea where my head is right now—”

  “Shut up and drive, Vivi,” he said.

  She closed her mouth with a snap. When she pulled into the driveway at home and killed the engine, he got out without a word and headed toward the house.

  Vivi stared after him, wondering if she was still welcome in there.

  Edna leaped and bounded at his heels, licking at his hand as he unlocked the front door, shoving her way in when the door opened. In any case, she had to retrieve her rambunctious dog. She walked slowly up onto the porch and stepped inside, shutting the door. It was dark inside the big room, but he had not turned on any lights, and she didn’t either. The dark made it easier.

  “I don’t want Rafael’s job, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she told him. “It’s a fabulous offer, but it’s not for me.”

  “That’s not how it looked.” Jack’s voice was bleak. “You looked tempted. And you should be. That job’s a road back to the career you always wanted. All your hopes and dreams and training. Do what you have to do. Don’t let me hold you back.”

  She shook her head in helpless dismay. “But I have everything I need, right here! Rafael was trying to help me, but I don’t need any help! His timing just sucked, that’s all!”

  “No, his timing was perfect,” Jack said. “I was starting to delude myself. I owe him for bringing me back to earth.”

  That drove her right over the top. She ran over to him, and whacked at his chest with the heels of her hands. “You were not deluding yourself!” she yelled. “You were starting to trust me, and I deserve to be trusted! We have something special!” She whacked him, trying to shove him back toward the couch. “Thick-brained lug! Would you just take a goddamn chance on me?”

  He trapped both her wrists in one hand. “Don’t get in a wresting match with me, Viv.”

  “Why the hell not?” she shot back. “Why try to be good? What’s the point of controlling myself? Why even bother?”

  “Because I’ll win.” He dragged her close and cupped her ass so she could feel his erection. “Is that what you want? I’ll give it to you like that, if it is. I’ll give it to you right now.”

  They stared at each other, grim and furious. Angry as she was, he still aroused her. Her heart pounded when he tossed her onto the couch and shoved up her skirt. His fingers parted her folds, slid inside her, found her wet and yielding.

  She clenched around his delving fingers. Ashamed, to make it so goddamn easy for him. It wasn’t right. She shoved at his chest, but without much strength. She was trembling, melting down.

  And wondering, too, with what small measure of wit she had left, if sex might make him more mellow and receptive.

  “You love it like this.” He wrenched open his belt. “I can feel it.”


  “And? What if I do?” she responded, her voice shaking. “And besides. It’s not ‘it’ that I love. It’s you! Get it through your thick head!”

  “Shut up, and let me work on the one thing we’ve got going for us,” he muttered, sliding the thick bulb of his cockhead up and down her slit.

  “Don’t shush me, you son of a bitch—” Her protests were cut off as he kissed her. His kiss was angry and fierce, but so was she. She clawed at him, clutched him, cursed at him. Wound her fingers into his hair and kissed him as he spread her legs and nudged himself inside.

  He thrust hard, driving inside all at once. It hurt, excited though she was. She cried out, and he stopped, lifting his panting mouth from hers. Staring into her shadowy eyes.

  She jerked him closer with a furious yank. Ashamed to be sucked into that vortex of craving so instantly, but she was in it now, and there was nothing to do but ride it out to the end. Every plunging stroke of his cock was a licking lash of guilty delight. His hands on her breasts, his hot mouth, madly kissing her, his big body, pumping hard…yes.

  She came, shuddering and wailing. He was still driving hard toward his own pleasure when she realized that he hadn’t used latex, but she couldn’t stop or even speak. Just whimper, at each wet slap of contact. His breath hissed with each jolt, gaining momentum, straining, jerking…and he flung back his head and came. And came, and came. Hot jets spurted inside her. He collapsed over her, panting.

  Vivi stared up at the dark ceiling, pushed far beyond any recognizable emotion. Her fingers still wound into his hair, as if she could hold on to him. But no. He was slipping away. Receding into the distance.

  And there wasn’t a goddamn thing she could do about it.

  The sweat on their bodies was cool before either of them dared to move. He lifted his head, cleared his throat. “I, ah…I didn’t, um…”

  “Yes,” she said. “I noticed that.”

  He pulled himself out, stuffed himself back into his jeans, keeping his back turned to her. “Is it a dangerous time?” he asked.

  “So-so,” she said. “I’m not too regular. Hard to say.” She got up, smoothed her skirt down. His sperm trickled hotly down her leg. “I wish I knew what you were trying to prove with this demonstration. That I’m a weak slut who can’t say no? That you’re stronger than me? What’s the message, Jack?”