by Marie Force
His damp towel hung from a rack under the window, and she reached out to run her fingers over it. The air was heavy with summer humidity and his cologne, which made her want him like she hadn’t had him all night. “Knock it off,” she muttered.
Gazing at her reflection in the mirror, she saw puffy bags under her eyes from the all-but-sleepless night, red patches of irritation from where his whiskers had abraded her skin, and, oh God, was that a hickey? “No,” she moaned. Ashamed, she cast her eyes down to find a pile of shiny black condom wrappers in the trashcan. She couldn’t resist bending over to count them. One, two, three. No way. Four. Her heart pounded, and her stomach surged with nausea as a fifth one appeared under the others.
Mortified by the discovery, she flushed the toilet and dashed back into his bedroom to find her clothes. Her dress was a bundled-up mass of wrinkles, her bra dangled from the end of the bed, and her panties were missing in action. Digging around in the sheets, she finally found them and tugged them on, certain she would never look at purple polka dots in quite the same way again.
Reaching for her earrings on his bedside table, she was swamped with longing. To see him just once more. To feel the way he made her feel, even if just for five more minutes. Was that too much to ask after what she had given him during the night? “You’re the one who said it was a one-time thing,” she mumbled as she stared at the earrings, which all but dared her to leave them there to give him an excuse to seek her out again.
Before she could change her mind, she slid on her flip-flops and left the room—without the earrings. In the hallway, she heard water running in the bathroom. She went in to find the toilet still flushing. When tinkering with the handle didn’t take care of it, she lifted the cover off the back and fiddled with the plunger thingy, but couldn’t get it to stay up to stop the flow of water. “He’ll flip his lid if I leave it like this all day. I’ll bet he’s a freak about water conservation, too.”
She looked around for something she could use to fix it. Feeling like she was invading his privacy, she opened the medicine cabinet. Mixed in with all the guy stuff, she found a box of dental floss. Her eyes darting from the malfunctioning plunger to the light fixture on the wall above the toilet, she mulled her options and decided there weren’t any. It was this or nothing.
With only another moment of hesitation, she grabbed the dental floss, tied it to the plunger and hoisted it up with a knot around the light. Just for good measure, she added a second piece. Satisfied she had done what she could, she returned what was left of the floss to the cabinet, closed the door, dashed down the stairs and out the front door, hoping no one would see her as she left. She didn’t take a deep breath until she reached the foot of Extension Street and hung a left onto Lower Thames toward Dean Avenue, back to her mother’s house, back to her mother’s job, back to the aftermath of her mother’s death.
Chapter Five
As Georgie climbed the hill from Lower Thames, she checked her watch. Five minutes until nine. Hopefully, Cat and Tess had already left or were still sleeping and she could get in and out in time to be at the donut shop by nine thirty. She wasn’t sure what she wanted more at the moment—a tall cup of coffee or a hot shower to wake her up and work out the knots in her aching muscles.
Rooting around in her purse for her keys, she scooted up the stairs.
“Well, well, well. Look at what the cat dragged in.”
Startled, Georgie glanced over to where Cat lounged on the wicker sofa with the newspaper, a cup of coffee, and a smug smile.
“I thought you didn’t drink coffee,” Georgie said, desperate to talk about anything other than why she was sneaking into the house at nine in the morning.
“I had to do something to get the juices flowing. Jogger Guy was a no-show.” Raising an amused, pierced eyebrow, Cat said, “Any idea why?”
“Nope. I took a walk this morning and stopped for coffee at the Handy Lunch.”
“You are such a liar.” Grinning, Cat put down her cup, stood up, and walked over to Georgie. “Is that a hickey?”
“No!”
Cat laughed. “Yeah, right. Let’s see, we’ve also got some whisker burn.” She took Georgie by the chin to get a closer look. “And judging by the suitcases under your eyes, I’d guess less than two hours’ sleep. Am I right?”
Ashamed, Georgie diverted her eyes away from Cat’s.
“Oh, you dirty, dirty girl!” Cat howled with laughter. “I’m very proud of you.”
“Stop,” Georgie moaned. “It’s awful. I can’t believe I did this.”
“Why the hell not? Was it good?”
Georgie gave her a withering look.
“The best ever?”
Reluctantly, Georgie replied with the slightest of nods.
“Then I repeat, what the hell is wrong with that?”
“I don’t even know him, and there’re so many reasons why it wasn’t a good idea.”
“Because of your boyfriend in Atlanta?”
“He dumped me yesterday.”
“He’s a putz. I could’ve told you that just from the way you’ve described him. He did you a favor—if he hadn’t dumped you, you might’ve missed out on last night.” Taking Georgie by the hand, Cat led her to the porch sofa and urged her to sit down. “Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.”
Georgie’s face heated with embarrassment when she remembered the five condom wrappers in the trash.
“Oh wow, so good your face turns red just thinking about it?”
“It was unbelievable,” Georgie confessed, dying to tell someone. “I’ve never done anything even close to what I did with him. It was like I was someone else.”
“Must’ve felt pretty good in light of all the craziness of being you lately.”
Impressed by Cat’s astute assessment, Georgie nodded. “I wanted to feel good again, you know?”
“I do know, and there’s nothing wrong with that, especially after everything you’ve been through.”
Georgie sat back with a sigh. “I just wish I didn’t feel like such a total slut. I can’t imagine what he must think of me.” She shuddered.
“I’m sure he thinks he’s one lucky son of a bitch.”
“He left me the sweetest note this morning.” She tugged it out of her purse and handed it to Cat.
Scanning the note, Cat looked over at Georgie. “Why did you say it’s a one-time thing?”
“Because! I’ve got too much other crap on my plate, and I need to get back to Atlanta—soon.”
“Listen, I know you’re a couple of years older than me, but I’ve been around the block a few times, and I’m here to tell you, hot guys who’re also sweet don’t grow on trees. You’d be foolish to toss aside something that could be great just because the timing isn’t ideal.”
“It’s not just that.”
Cat continued on undeterred. “Clearly, you had a connection with him or you wouldn’t have done what you did. I know you well enough by now to know that for sure. You should see where it takes you.”
Georgie shook her head. “I can’t let myself get involved with someone whose whole life is here when my life is somewhere else. I don’t need any more pain or aggravation. I’ve had enough recently to last me a lifetime.”
Cat handed her the note and stood up. “I hate to say it, but judging by the I-just-got-the-living-daylights-fucked-out-of-me look on your face, you’re already involved.”
Cat’s words resonated with Georgie as she rushed through a shower and did her best to cover the hickey and stubble rash with makeup. A hickey. When was the last time I had a hickey? Ah, never. She’d had her share of boyfriends, but none of them had aroused in her the sheer passion that Nathan had—the kind of passion that led to biting. For all she knew, he had a few reminders of their night together on his neck, too.
Just thinking about it made her want him again as an image of him thrusting into her made her whole body flush with heat and desire. But one night didn’t mean she was involved with him. They
’d had sex—a lot of sex. So what? People did it, right? They did it and walked away all the time, so why couldn’t she? She could. And she would.
Determined to put it behind her, she went into her disaster of a bedroom where the piles of clothes strewn about reminded her of getting ready the night before and of all her vows not to do exactly what she’d ended up doing. She dug through her dresser drawer in search of the oldest, rattiest pair of underwear she could find and slipped on a pair with a hole in the crotch. Perfect. Since she’d made the stupid decision to leave her earrings, she expected to see him at some point that day, at which time she would thank him again for the lovely evening, take a long last look at his handsome face, and send him on his way. With holes in her panties, there was no way she would be tempted to jump him again. No way.
Satisfied that she was as prepared to face the day as she ever would be, Georgie set out to get the donuts and open the center. By noon, she was struggling to stay awake as her sexcapades with Nathan continued to haunt her. While the seniors had their spaghetti-and-meatball lunch, she sat in her office and stared at the wall, remembering one time in particular.
He had turned her over to massage her back, and after he had caressed every inch of her, he’d dragged his tongue over her spine. Georgie had wriggled under him as he urged her to stay still. Grasping her bottom with his big hands, he had opened her to his tongue and had left no part of her untouched or unexplored.
The dark, erotic shock of it had sent her into an orgasm that made all the others pale in comparison. Then he had raised her to her knees and plunged into her from behind, riding the storm of her desire. Clutching her breasts, he had taken her hard and fast, and when he slid his fingers through her dampness, she came again. That never happened. Not to her anyway.
Just thinking about it made her throb with longing. Her mouth went dry, her heart beat fast, and her breath got stuck in her throat. If he walked in there right then, she would push him against the wall and beg him to take her, holes in her panties or not. The realization was both shameful and startling.
“Georgie!”
Bad Gus’s booming voice jolted her out of her reverie. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Sheesh, where were you off to?”
“Nowhere.” She cleared the hot ball of shame from her throat. “Right here. What can I do for you, Gus?”
“I brought you and your roommates some corn.” He produced a big bag from behind his back. “And tomatoes.”
Touched by his thoughtfulness, Georgie stood up to accept the bag from him. For all his bluster and bawdiness, Gus was generous to his friends, which now apparently included her.
“Thanks, Gus. That was really sweet of you.”
Flustered, he said, “It’s just corn. I used to bring it for your mother.” He shrugged, but his eyes were sad.
Knowing her mother’s death had hit the seniors hard, Georgie made an effort to change the subject. “Who’re you wearing today?”
Gus spun around to show her his back. “Ellsbury. The center fielder.”
He had a different Boston Red Sox shirt for every day.
“Oh, he’s cute.”
Gus scoffed. “Cute. That’s real critical to a winning team.”
“We think so,” she said, speaking for all women.
“Too many years doing the tomahawk chop down there in Hotlanta. It’s messed up your head.”
Georgie laughed, even though they’d had the conversation a hundred times before.
Walter came to the door. “Are you hitting on my best girl, Gus?”
“Ya snooze, ya lose, buddy,” Gus said with a wink for Georgie.
“Say it isn’t so, Georgie,” Walter moaned. “Tell me you can’t be bought off for a couple of ears of wormy corn.”
“Ain’t no worms in my corn,” Gus huffed.
Georgie smiled at their banter. They were as different as two men could be but were the best of friends anyway. Her mother had told her how Gus and his wife Donna had helped Walter through the loss of his wife a few years earlier.
“So what do you say, Georgie my love?” Walter asked with a teasing smile. “When are you going to let me take you out?”
“One of these days,” she said as she always did.
“Remember what I told you,” Gus said. “If he gets you into his car, it’s not a date, it’s a kidnapping.”
Walter gave him a friendly shove.
“Roxy can get you a restraining order if it comes to that,” Bill chimed in as he joined them.
Suddenly, Georgie had a party going on in her office. How her mother had ever gotten anything done here was a mystery to Georgie.
“Or that Caldwell fellow,” Gus added. “He could help you get rid of a nuisance like Walter. The way I see it, he owes you one after yesterday.”
Georgie tensed at the mention of Nathan.
“Don’t bring it up,” Bill said as Good Gus came in. “He was so obnoxious yesterday. I asked Roxy about him last night, and she said he’s a good guy.”
“Could’ve fooled us,” Bad Gus grumbled. “Right, Georgie?”
“Um, yeah,” she stammered.
“She doesn’t want us teasing her about it,” Walter said. “Leave her alone.”
Georgie sent him a grateful smile. No, she didn’t want to talk about Nathan Caldwell, or think about his fabulous, sculpted chest, or the feel of his rock-hard ass under her hands as he pumped into her. She crossed her arms over protruding nipples. Looking up she discovered the men staring at her.
“What’s wrong?” Good Gus asked, his white eyebrows knitted with concern.
“She doesn’t look good today,” Bad Gus said. “Been saying that all morning.”
“Are you sick?” Walter asked. “Your face is all red.”
“Um.”
“You should go home,” Henry added.
Where had he come from?
“Yes, go on home, Georgie,” Bad Gus said. “We’ll lock up and drop the keys by the house. We did it for your mother when she had bronchitis last winter.”
“Dad!” an angry voice yelled from the hallway.
The men exchanged glances.
“That’ll be Roger.” Good Gus cast his eyes down in embarrassment. “He’s driving me to the doctor in Providence.”
“Come on!” Roger called.
“Take care of yourself, Georgie,” he said softly. To the others, he added, “Please excuse me.”
After he was gone, Bad Gus swore under his breath. “That kid’s an asshole. Can’t even come in and be civil.” Glancing at Georgie, he said, “’Scuse my language, honey.”
Georgie held up a hand to let him know she’d taken no offense. “What’s his story?”
“Been in and out of trouble for years,” Bill said. “Drugs mostly.”
“Treats his father like crap,” Walter said.
“Last guy in the world who deserves it,” Henry added.
The others nodded in agreement.
“No kidding,” Georgie said. The information made her sad for Gus.
“Go on home,” Bad Gus insisted. “We’ll take care of things this afternoon.”
“What about your bird watching?” she asked. Two weeks after she started, Good Gus had let her in on the secret—their daily walks to downtown Newport had nothing to do with birds and everything to do with girls.
“We can take a day off,” Bad Gus said. “The birds aren’t expecting us.”
Desperate for sleep and an afternoon to herself, Georgie pondered their offer. “You’ll have to clean up after lunch.”
“We can do that,” Henry assured her. He and his equally adorable wife Alice were always so helpful and eager to please.
“Will you do me one favor?”
“Whatever you want,” Walter said.
“Put the Styrofoam trays in a separate bag? The Rec Center said we can put them in their recycling Dumpster until we get one of our own.”
Her request was greeted with total silence.
&
nbsp; “Is that a problem?” she finally asked.
“That Caldwell boy got to you, did he?” Bill asked, his eyes dancing with delight.
You have no idea. “Not at all. He makes a good point, though. You can leave the bags by the back door, and I’ll take them to the Rec Center in the morning.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Gus assured her. “Go on now. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, you guys,” Georgie said with genuine appreciation. Taking the bag of corn and tomatoes, she walked out of the center a few minutes later and enjoyed a deep breath of fresh, summer air. On the short ride home, she tried her best to clear her mind and relax. Aching from head to toe, the first thing she planned to do was take a long bubble bath in the tub in her mother’s bathroom, and then she would sleep—maybe until tomorrow morning.
Her cell phone rang, and Georgie reached for it while trying to keep her eyes open and on the road. She bit back a groan when she heard the voice of her boss—her real boss, the one in Atlanta. “How are you, Lorraine?”
“Overworked and under appreciated. Nothing new here.”
“How’s everything in the office?”
“Well, that’s why I’m calling.”
Georgie’s heart began to beat faster. She had been anticipating this call from Atlanta. Lorraine and Doug must have been in conspiracy. Time was running out on both fronts.
“I need to know when you’re coming back,” Lorraine said without further ado.
“I wish I could say for sure. The city is trying to hire a replacement for my mother, and I have to appear in probate court next week for her estate.”
“I admire what you’re doing up there. I really do.”
“They’ll close the center if they can’t find anyone,” Georgie said, reminding herself as well as Lorraine. “My mother founded the place, gave it everything she had for more than twenty years. I can’t let them close it down. I just can’t. The people would be lost without it.”
“I understand the predicament you’re in, but I’m in one myself. We’ve got the fall lines coming in this week. You know how busy this time of year is. I need you, Georgie. Your staff needs you. They seem aimless without your leadership.”
