She ignored him for a long moment as she stared out the window into her past. When she did begin to speak, it was almost in monotone, all the vibrancy sucked from her voice. “I guess I was too young and vulnerable when I met Tom—that's his name you know. Sounds harmless, doesn’t it?” A choked laugh escaped, and Nick reached across to grasp her hand as it fluttered near the tabletop like an injured bird. Lost in the past, he didn’t think she even noticed. He cursed his stupidity.
“I’d lost someone close to me that year, my foster father. And then Tom came along and swept me off my feet. He seemed like perfect husband material, charming, handsome, and intelligent. At first we had a good life together. We were happy, or at least I was happy. Then something changed. He changed.”
She turned away from the window to stare defiantly at him, a trace of tears turning her eyes to glistening amber. “So, in answer to your question, I would have to say no, I do not miss him. In fact, I’d be grateful never to see him again. You must think me callous, right?”
Actually, he thought she was pretty fricken amazing—and beautiful. The sun streaming in through the glass shot her hair with strands of burnished copper and gold. Her summer dress gaped slightly on its way down to her breasts, teasing him with glimpses of soft, smooth skin, and a hint of lace.
He knew how hard it must be to admit to the breakdown of a marriage. He’d never even copped to his own. Preferring to push it under the table, hidden.
“No, I don't think you’re callous. Love is a fickle bitch at the best of times. I think you probably gave it your best shot and it just wasn't enough, that's all.”
* * *
Sara looked away, blinking rapidly. She couldn’t believe she’d dropped all that on him. And he’d accepted it. Sometimes she still wondered if what happened was her fault. If she could have done things differently. She’d read about other victims of domestic violence saying the same thing, but hadn’t really understood—until it happened to her. Maybe if she’d skipped lunch that day, or maybe if she’d taken the time to call Tom. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Thousands of scenarios had run through her mind since then. But, she was slowly coming to grips with the realization that even if those things were true, he’d still had no right to do what he’d done. It was wrong. Tom needed help.
Determined to set aside ugly thoughts of her marriage, she refocused on the man sitting across from her. The high-back leather seats accentuated Nick’s dark, wavy hair and swarthy skin. He must have grabbed her hand while she’d been talking, though she couldn’t recall it, and was now rubbing his thumb in a soothing motion as he smiled up at the shy young server who’d come along to refill their coffee cups. Nodding her thanks to the girl, she pulled her hand back, and received a soul-piercing gaze in return. Turning away she gazed out the window at the downtown core, absently listening as Nick asked about working at Grace’s and received the server’s enthusiastic response.
The street lay north to south like a flowing gray ribbon. Flowering Mayday trees, their elegant branches dancing in the slight breeze, lined the walk. The delicate white flower’s perfumed scent drifted into the diner whenever the door chimed open. A meridian filled with an assorted rainbow of happy-faced pansies interspersed with impatiens and Gerbera daisies ran down the center of the street to the intersection, where they flowed into a roundabout highlighted with a sparkling fountain.
The downtown businesses all pitched in with hanging baskets and planters filled to the brim, a profusion of color and textures. Sara could see all the way to the front door of Annie Campbell’s store, the Craft Shack. She’d been happy to find a kindred spirit in Annie, a potter and single mother. Chris was Jessica’s age, a doll, with copper hair and freckles across his still chubby cheeks. They’d developed into close friends. She hoped it wouldn’t have to come to an end.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Nick’s baritone broke through, “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can help.”
“It’s nothing; I was just day-dreaming.” She wasn’t ready to share the horror her marriage.
“Okay, tell me about painting then. Where do you get your inspirations from?”
A slight smile curved her lips at his obvious ploy to pull her out of her funk. She toyed with her teaspoon for a minute, giving serious thought to her answer. “Did you ever read National Geographic when you were a kid?” And at his bemused nod, she continued, “I used to dream I was a photographer of theirs, experiencing all those different cultures. So many of the people portrayed between those pages cared little for material wealth, but what they had, they took enormous pride in. I guess that’s what I try to show in my work. It’s not what you have, it’s what you hold dear that counts.”
Nick squeezed her hand and she raised her eyes to his. Staring into the cerulean depths, she could see a innumerable thoughts chasing themselves around and wondered what she’d said to cause it.
“Nick, are you married?”
Well, that was blunt enough, wasn’t it?
Her cheeks warmed as he burst out laughing. Several heads turned in their direction at the attractive sound.
“You’re asking me that now? After you kissed me senseless the other day? For shame, young lady, for shame.” He waved his finger back and forth like a pendulum, his eyes glinting with humor.
“Actually, you kissed me,” she said, a smile breaking across her own lips. The sun seemed to shine brighter and the sky became an impossible blue. Grace returned to their table with fragrant dishes of steaming food, and suddenly, Sara was ravenous.
Chapter Six
The room smelled of sex and perfume. The phone rang and Tom grasped the blond head between his legs, stopping her movement.
“Mr. Sheridan, it’s Sam.”
Finally. About fricken time.
“I was beginning to wonder what happened to you.” He coughed to clear the rasp from his throat. The stupid son-of-a-bitch better have a good explanation for leaving him hanging this long.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been busy chasing your wife across the countryside. She’s turning out to be a very smart woman.”
He didn’t know the half of it. “So…have you found her?”
“No, not yet. Listen, sir, I’m thinking we should let this go.”
Tom yanked the phone away from his ear and stared at it incredulously. What the fuck was he talking about? Hauling in a hot breath of rage, he counted to ten, then let it ease out, before placing the phone back to his ear. “I need her back, Sam. You know that.”
“Have you considered giving her some space? Maybe she just needs a little room to think or something, you know?”
He squeezed the phone until his fingers were a bloodless white, wishing it were someone’s throat instead. He couldn’t afford time for her to have a little space. He needed those goddamned files back. Now. Then he’d make sure his oh so smart wife, kept her pretty mouth shut. Permanently.
It sounded as if Samuel might know more than he was letting on. If he were thinking of double-crossing him, Tom would make him sorry he’d ever lived.
“Where are you, Sam? I’ll come to you. We can sit down. Talk this over. Is it the money? I pay you very well. Well enough, I expect results. If you can’t handle it, tell me now and I’ll find someone who can.”
So far, all his men had proven themselves less than useless. How hard could it be to chase down one woman and a child? “Sam, you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Look, you know how women are. Hurt their feelings and they immediately go running off to their friends about it. I know you’re worried, but I’m sure if you give her some time she'll come back, boss.”
Did the asshole not know whom he was dealing with? “Time is not something we have a lot of, my friend. My…associates have been asking questions. They’ve been hearing rumors. I can’t afford to piss these people off, Sam. If you know something and you’re not telling me, I suggest you rethink your strategy. These guys play for keeps. You don’t want to cross them, trust me.”
Relieved now he’d won, Tom leaned back in his chair, the better to view the blonde kneeling at his feet. “Good man, I knew I could count on you. Keep in touch; I want to know as soon as you find her.”
Setting the phone down, he tried to focus as Belinda went back to working him over. Time was running out. He needed to find Sara and get back those files, before she turned them in to some do-gooder cop. The campaign for the governor’s office was already well underway. He’d worked too long and too hard to allow his wife's untimely disappearance to ruin his dreams. He couldn’t afford to have even a hint of scandal attached to his name. He was on his way to the President’s chair, and right now, the only thing stopping him was his pretty wife.
Disgusted, he shoved the minx between his legs away, gesturing for her to leave. Instead, she leaned back enticingly on her arms, her wide-open shirt showing off bare breasts, nipples puckered and inviting. Her legs bent spread-eagled under her short skirt, showed him she wore nothing underneath. He’d started using her for sex soon after hiring her to take care of his brat. Sometimes he liked things a little rough and she was more than willing to play those games.
Staring up at him with eyes like a cat, Belinda sucked a finger between her pouting lips, then brought her hand between her legs and fondled herself, her long hair brushing the floor as her head fell back and she began to pant.
Slut.
Tom laughed and gave in. Falling out of his chair, he grabbed her around the neck and squeezed as he slid home.
Chapter Seven
Sara was at Grits and Grace, having coffee with Tess when Grace, pink cheeked and over-heated, shuffled out of the steamy kitchen to plop down beside her on the wide bench. The musty scent of cooking oil swirled around her as she heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief, leaning back to wriggle her toes. “So, Sara, where did you hide that handsome young man of yours today?”
“He’s not my man, Grace.” Especially since Nick seemed to be making a game of avoiding her ever since their lunch date. Bad enough she couldn’t quit dreaming about him, all hot and shirtless, big leather tool belt riding low on his hips as he…grabbing the menu she waved it in front of her face.
Whew, was it warm in here?
“I don’t know where he is, I haven't seen him in a couple of days.” She swiftly changed the subject, no need giving her friend’s any more ammunition. They were always trying to pair her up with the men of Tidal Falls, some of them old enough to be her grandfather. “Anyway, I have news. I’m going on a date tonight, which should make you two matchmakers happy. I wanted to ask if one of you can take Jessica for a while.”
“Well of course I will, you don't even need to ask, child,” Tess hurried to respond, and slid a triumphant glance across the table at Grace. The two of them had an ongoing competition over which one Jessica loved spending time with more. Truth was, she soaked up all the love and attention both women lavished on her, returning it twofold.
Passing a snarky look Tess’s way, Grace offered, “Well then, maybe I could help you in another way. I have a closet full of dresses I’ve never even worn. I bet something in there would be perfect for tonight.” Her eyes twinkling, she raised her right hand as though under oath. “I confess, I’m a shopaholic. I’ve tried to quit, but I just can’t seem to stop.” Laughing, her hand flopped down to the table with a thunk, causing Sara’s cup to rattle in its saucer. “I’m always buying things I don't have a hope of ever getting into, if you can believe it.”
“Oh, I can…”
Sara gave Tess a sharp kick under the table before she could finish the wisecrack, instead receiving a wounded look as if to say, “What?”
“As a matter of fact honey, I have the perfect one for you!” Grace grabbed onto her arm, pumping it enthusiastically.
Inwardly groaning, Sara took in Grace’s plump figure dressed in a flowing orange tie-dyed tank dress covered with peace signs placed strategically here and there. She forced out a weak smile. “Thanks, girls. I can’t believe how nervous I am. It’s been years since I was on a date. Ty’s going to take me out for dinner and maybe some dancing afterward. It might run a little late. Is that a problem Tess? Because I can call and cancel.”
“Oh no, you don’t. It’s about time that nephew of mine stepped up to the plate. He's been making puppy dog eyes at you for months now.” She chuckled. “Why don't you leave Jessica overnight with me. She’ll be safe enough. Then, if you two kids wanna get busy…”
“Tess! I do not intend to get busy, as you put it. It’s a night out between friends, that’s all. I don’t have any plans on ever getting busy, thank you very much.” She winced at how loud she’d gotten.
Grace added her thoughts on the matter, “Well, hold on now, missy. That horse may have already left the barn, but that doesn’t mean it won’t ever want back in. As long as it’s the right barn, if you catch my drift.”
Tess and Sara looked at each other in shock, then at Grace who was now looking a little uncomfortable, and then laughter erupted all around the table.
“You’re bad, Grace Martin, very bad.” Sara smirked. “I can't believe I agreed to this but you guys are making it much easier. Thank you.”
“No problem, sugar-pie, that’s what friends are for. Okay, let's get on to more important stuff. Who wants pie?”
* * *
Turning this way and that, Sara tried to see her back in the floor length mirror attached to her bedroom door, entranced with the dress Grace had picked out for her. It was beautiful—if somewhat short on material. Backless and fashioned out of the softest oriental silk, it fell gently down her torso to end barely shy of indecent. The gorgeous mixture of turquoise greens and blues were breathtaking. Grace insisted it was perfect even though Sara wasn’t so sure it was appropriate for a first date.
Too late now.
The chime of the doorbell and voices down the hall had her throwing on a pair of black velvet stilettos and rushing out of her room, only to slide to a stumbling halt at seeing Nick in the open doorway. The sudden flare of heat in his eyes when he caught sight of her was gratifying, and her pulse leapt in response.
“You’re beautiful.” His voice deepened and rumbled, stroking something warm and womanly to life inside of her. Not knowing how to handle the moment, she lifted her arms above her head and gave a little twirl, like the ballerina in Jessica’s jewelry box.
“Grace did a good job, with what little she had to work with.” Slowing her spin, she glanced over her shoulder, and caught his widened eyes on the open back of the dress. The little devil coaching her on from inside had her bending over on the pretext of checking if her shoes were properly strapped.
His muffled groan rewarded her as she slid her fingers enticingly up first one leg, then the other, checking her nylons before giving a little shimmy shake to straighten the short skirt.
“Something wrong?” she murmured, giving Grace a conspiratorial wink.
* * *
It wasn’t often that anything ever left Nick at a loss for words. He was now. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be picking his tongue up off the doorstep. He’d decided to drop over and see if Sara and Jessica would like to go see a movie with him, a peace offering of sorts. He hadn’t been around in a couple days, and had missed them. He’d thought maybe some time and space would help him with the crazy attraction the two of them seemed to generate.
Guess not.
Remembering the day he’d seen her in those white shorts and yellow t-shirt, he’d found her heart-stoppingly pretty. The day of their little field trip, she’d been striking in a cute summer frock. Now though, now he felt gob-smacked. And that was before she bent her curvalicious body practically in half—sweet Jesus kill him now—to tighten the
straps on a pair of come-fuck-me-up-against-a-door shoes. All the while showing him the long graceful curve of her bared spine and a perfect heart-shaped ass, all of which had his fingers tingling and his cock hardening. He was in so much trouble.
There was a knock on the doorframe behind him, and there stood what's-his-name, looking like a kid in a candy store.
What the Hell?
The dude cleaned up not bad, pissing Nick off even more. He wore a white dress shirt rolled up to show off most likely gym-toned arms and had tucked it into a pair of khaki colored chinos.
“Wow, doll-face, you look amazing.” Ty grinned, looking way too pleased with himself. “We’re going to have an incredible night together.”
What the fuck did he mean by that?
Glaring from him to Sara, Nick expected her to send the a-hole down the road. Instead, she wore a welcoming smile on her very kissable lips as she picked up the little purse sitting on a side table in the hall.
There was no room for mace in that thing. And she should have a sweater on, her dress looked downright chilly.
“Ty, you’re right on time. You remember my neighbor, Nick, from the post office the other day.”
At the other guy’s self-satisfied smirk, he wanted to plaster his pretty-boy face to the wall.
“Was there something you needed, Nick?” Sara enquired, the sound of his name pulling him from his funk.
“It can wait.” He growled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets before they ripped the guy’s face off. What the hell was she doing with surfer boy?
Ty bent his elbow, inviting Sara to place her hand in the crook. “Hey Grace, good to see you. Listen, if you’re ready we better get a move on, I’ve made reservations at La Lune. You'll love it, great French cuisine.”
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