by Jen Talty
That came as a shock. Sure, she’d been attracted to Doug for years. But him, attracted to her? That was new. Very new. And her father was okay with it? That was the biggest shocker of them all.
“I always knew your love life was going to be the death of me,” he said.
“Right now, I don’t have a love life, but if things change, I’ll let you know.”
She looked to the front yard, where Doug stood in front of the grill, smiling up at her… She looked back to her father, who was looking at Doug as well. “Things have already changed,” her father said.
The last couple of months had been pure torture for Doug, and not because he’d finally left his wife. No. It had everything to do with the young woman sleeping two doors away. Way too close for comfort, and at the same time, too far away. Had she been any other woman, their age difference wouldn’t mean anything, but she was his business partner’s daughter. The daughter of the man who’d put him through school. Gave him a chance, when everyone else had written him off. Doug owed Jim everything. More importantly, he owed Jim that old-fashioned talk about dating his daughter, and their earlier conversation hadn’t gone as well as Doug would have liked. Jim wasn’t angry about witnessing the kiss, but he wasn’t overly supportive, either.
Doug had tossed and turned until two in the morning when he gave up and decided milk and cookies would be the only way he’d fall asleep. At least, he’d hoped.
After putting on his robe, he tiptoed past Stacey’s bedroom, then past Jim’s, which was strategically placed at the top of the stairs. The floorboard creaked, a bone of contention, because he knew he could fix them. Jim wouldn’t agree until after Stacey had gone off to college, but they’d never gotten around to fixing it.
Doug made it all the way to the kitchen without waking anyone. Stacey always made sure there was cookie dough in the freezer for her father. It had been hell when she was away at school, and no cookie dough. Store-bought just didn’t cut it.
He dug in with a spoon, then plopped two balls of dough on a plate before sticking it in the microwave. Not the best way to enjoy the cookies, but it was quick.
He stood in front of the microwave, waiting to catch it before it beeped, the noise possibly waking the entire house. It was the loudest microwave known to man. Then he sat at the kitchen table with two microwaved cookies, unevenly cooked, and a gallon of milk. Why bother with a glass? He paused for a moment, waiting for the cookies to cool, thinking back to when Jim first brought him home.
Doug had been fifteen, and on his own for a while. He helped people to their cars at the local grocery store, where they often tipped him. His goal had been to save money to buy a bus ticket to somewhere. Anywhere. But every penny he made, he spent on food. Or a sleeping bag. He also knew what could happen to young boys on the streets in bigger cities, so deep down, he knew this wasn’t the worst place to live.
One morning, very early, Jim walked into the house where Doug had been squatting and woke him up. He had been so startled he crawled over to the corner of the room. Jim wasn’t much bigger than he, but to Doug, he looked like a Mack truck. He thought for sure he was heading back to the system, except Jim handed him a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, and said, “Son, eat this, and then we’ll talk about how you can earn your keep.”
He tested a cookie with his finger, then stabbed it with his fork and went to town. After finishing one of the cookies, he brought the carton to his lips.
“You know, the rest of us have to drink from that,” a sexy, sweet, voice rang out, and Doug nearly choked on the last gulp of milk.
He locked gazes with Stacey’s milk chocolate eyes. Her blonde hair flowed past her small, full, round breasts. Her hair had a perpetual wave and bounce, like one of those conditioner commercials on television. She wore a thin white robe, and he had no idea what was under it, but all he saw in his head was that body in a bikini.
“I drink from the carton all the time,” he said, trying to ease the tension growing deep inside him.
“That’s gross.” She sat across from him, peeling a banana. “But not grosser than ruining my cookie dough by cooking it in the microwave.”
He shrugged. “It would take too long to wait for the oven.”
“True,” she said. “Can’t sleep?”
He shook his head. “You?”
She pulled off half the banana then nibbled it. “I think I’m hung over already.”
“Yeah, we all had a lot to drink.”
“I could hear Daddy snoring on my way down. He used to be a light sleeper.”
Doug laughed. “I remember when I first moved in, if I got up to go to the bathroom, he was in the hallway. I think he second-guessed bringing me home for a while. I mean, really, who brings a strange, homeless teenage boy home?”
“He was afraid you were going to run away. I sometimes used to fall asleep in my Dad’s bed, and he’d tell me his biggest concern was that one day, he’d wake up and you’d be gone.”
“He became a really light sleeper that day he saw you kissing that kid from the corner store,” Doug said, trying desperately not to stare at her, but it was impossible. She was beautiful. Strong. Confident. Any breathing man would notice Stacey, a thought that angered him in the most primal way.
“Yeah, he scared that one away.”
“Speaking of scaring away the men in your life…what did he say to you about our… about that kiss?”
“Not much, and that was weird, because I’m used to getting lectures from him about men and public displays of affection.”
“Interesting,” Doug said. “He just asked me to think about things, and reminded me to take care of my current situation before entering a new one.”
“What was that kiss all about, anyway?” She tossed the banana peel on the table. “Not that I minded.”
“That’s good to know,” he said, “because I’m thinking I’d like to do it again, but your dad is right, it’s not the right time.”
“So, you’re not going to kiss me again because of my dad?” Her eyelids fluttered. Her dark lashes barely touched each other as they momentarily hid sweet brown eyes that always had a little twinkle of mischief, mixed with a dollop of badass. She wasn’t an innocent little girl. She had this toughness about her. A confidence most women didn’t find until their thirties, if they ever found it. Stacey Sutten knew exactly who she was and what she wanted, and she went for it. Her only mistake had been falling for Todd, the weasel. But didn’t everyone have one of those in their life?
“No. There are other things…”
“What other things?” she asked.
He couldn’t keep looking at her without wanting to sweep her off her feet, carry her upstairs to his bedroom, and do things to her he shouldn’t even be thinking about.
But she made him feel things that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. She had been distracting him ever since Mary had moved out of the house over five months ago, and Stacey often visited for dinners or a boat ride. He’d sit and listen to her, all the while wondering what it would be like to kiss her.
Now that he knew, he wanted to do it again. And again. And even then, it wouldn’t be enough.
No matter what he tried, she had become the first thing he thought of in the morning and the last thing he thought of at night. Not even Mary, the woman he’d married, had done that to him.
“I’m a lot older than you,” he said. Lame excuse. She was twenty-two. He was thirty-one. Not really that much of an age difference at this point, but it was the best he could come up with. He needed to slow things down. Get his divorce taken care of, and more importantly, have a man-to-man conversation with Jim. It was the right thing to do.
“We’re both adults.” She took his plate after he’d scraped up every bit of cookie he could. When she leaned over him, he couldn’t help but notice the swell of her round perky breasts. She smelled like warm honey. Tasted like it too.
She leaned against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. “What else do
you have?”
“I’m still married?” It was a lost cause. He was going to kiss her again. He knew it. She knew it.
“Sign the papers tomorrow, and you’ll be a free man,” she said.
“Then let’s have this conversation tomorrow.” It was impossible to resist her. Impossible to ignore the attraction. He found himself leaning over her, hands pressed against the counter, pinning her. She had to tilt her head to look him in the eye, as he had a good seven inches on her.
“You know…” She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “It’s technically already the day you’ll sign your divorce papers, so...”
Before he could step away and regain his composure from this game of cat-and-mouse, she touched her lips against exposed skin, right in the middle of his chest. A pulse rippled through his veins. He cupped her face, searching her eyes for a reason to step away, but all he got was an invitation. “This is crazy,” he whispered as he pressed his mouth firmly against hers, parting her lips with his tongue. He felt the rumble of her stifled moan, and her fingers dug into the muscles of his lower back.
He hoisted her body up on the counter, spreading her legs and leaning completely against her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Lost in the moment, they kissed wildly, each trying to take as much as they could from the other. As he glided his hand up from her waist, toward the swell of her breast, the reality of what he was doing hit him hard.
He pulled back. “We need to slow down.” He dropped his forehead against hers, his breath labored. His heart pounded. His body ached to touch every inch of hers. But his mind reminded him this was not the time, nor the place. “I want this,” he said. “I want you. But I want to do it right.”
“There is no right or wrong way to feel things about someone,” she said. “It just is.”
“You’re father is right. I need to take care of my divorce,” he said as he stepped away, tugging his robe tighter, his mouth still filled with the sweet taste of hers. “What used to be harmless flirting has turned into a whole lot more.”
“And…?” Her lips were still swollen from his kiss, her breasts still partially exposed from his tugging at her robe. Her eyes sparkled with sexual desire.
She slid off the counter, her arms still wrapped around his waist. He kissed her forehead. “We take time to figure it out.”
“I prefer to figure things out as I go.”
He shook his head. No amount of cookies and milk was going to help him sleep now.
2
Stacey had barely slept and woke feeling like crap, but she got up and went for a run just as the sun came up. Just like she did most mornings. Running had always calmed her, cleared her head. But not this morning. Between the lack of sleep and her aching muscles from training, the run did little more than get the blood flowing. She stood under the shower afterward, letting the water roll down her skin until it turned cold, reliving every moment of her encounter with Doug. When she was little, and Doug had first moved in, he was downright bashful, and Stacey, even as a small child, was far from shy. Doug, on the other hand, hadn’t developed many social skills. Stacey was up for the task, and made it her goal to help Doug interact with people in any given situation.
To this day, he was still reserved, especially around large groups of people, but around her, he was different. They had a special bond, and as Stacey grew older, the teasing turned to flirting. Nothing more. Nothing less. Until now. She got dressed quickly, feeling a sudden need to be around him. As she eased her way through the family room, she smelled crisp bacon and fresh coffee. She pushed back the door into the kitchen.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
“Hung over.”
He pushed a plate of eggs and bacon onto the table. “I heard the shower, so thought I’d make some grub.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” It struck her that her entire life, she’d called her father, ‘Daddy’. Never Dad.
Her father joined her at the table, pouring fresh coffee for them both.
“Where’s Doug?” she asked.
“Left about an hour or so ago.” Her father picked up the newspaper, thumbing through it until he found the sports section. Always the sports section first. He’d eventually read the entire paper, but had to find the latest write-ups on the games he watched in bed, alone, before falling asleep. She really needed to find this man a woman.
Hell, one date would be a good place to start. The last time he had any kind of a girlfriend was a couple of years ago. Women his age either had a ticking biological clock, which he said he didn’t want, or they had a bunch of kids. Her father loved kids, but didn’t want to father any more. He had stated more than once he just wanted to enjoy his life. She suspected her father was just scared of commitment. He had loved her mother. Her grandparents told her the only thing that kept him going when she’d walked out of his life, two days after Stacey was born, was Stacey. “Left to go where?” she asked.
He tipped the paper down and narrowed his eyes a bit. “Why do you ask?”
“Conversation, Dad. Might try it sometime, when other people are at the table.”
“I always read my paper in the morning, in silence. Been doing that since you were in diapers.” He flicked the paper out, then ducked behind it again. “You know he went to sign the divorce papers.”
“I can’t believe he’s giving her half of the money from the sale of that house.”
“Not your business.” Her father’s face was still hidden behind the paper, even as he put one side down to grab his coffee mug and take a few sips. He was a man of habit.
“Come on. I know you agree with me.”
He put down the paper and glared at her. “Doesn’t matter, because—”
The back kitchen door flew open, letting in humid air to clash with the air-conditioning. Doug slammed it shut a little too quickly. “Well, that was a waste of a good morning in which I could have slept in, and then binge-watched something on Netflix.” He kicked off his shoes, stomped across the kitchen, pulled down a mug, then poured a cup of coffee while snagging a couple of slices of bacon off the skillet. He leaned against the very counter he’d pushed her up against last night.
“What happened?” Jim asked.
“Mary never showed,” Doug said. “No text. No phone call. Nothing. This is the second time she’s done this, and it’s really starting to piss me off.”
Stacey maneuvered her way toward Doug, drawn by a magnetic pull she couldn’t fight. Didn’t want to fight. Gently, she touched his arm. Tension seeped from his hard bicep. “She’s disappeared before, for a long weekend with her boyfriend.”
Jim folded his paper then set it down before finishing, something he almost never did. “Sit,” Jim said. “You’re both making me nuts. And”—He pointed to Stacey—“don’t straddle the chair.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Don’t worry. She’ll show up, and you’ll get the papers signed.”
Doug laughed. “Funny, coming from someone who keeps telling me that Mary will keep stalling until she has everything.”
“Well, you did give her half of a house that you remodeled yourself. A house you bought before you even met her.” Stacey remembered when Doug had found the place. It hadn’t needed much work, but he gutted the kitchen and all the bathrooms, knocked down a few walls, and reconfigured the bedrooms, making a beautiful master suite.
“I loved working on it, but after everything that happened, living in it just sucked.”
“You know you can stay here as long as you want,” Jim said.
“Thanks,” Doug said.
“Why don’t you try calling her again?” Stacey asked, which got a glare from both men. Luckily, her ringing cell phone saved her. “Hello?”
“Sorry to cut into your day off, but we’ve got a situation. Be at the docks in an hour, or less,” Sergeant Prichard said.
“Great.” She stood. “I have to go into work.”
“What happened?” Doug aske
d.
“I don’t know yet, but I better get going.”
Stacey found herself on the back of the search and rescue vessel in full scuba gear, waiting to dive toward the bottom of the lake. Two search and rescue boats were lined up near the west opening of Paradise Bay. There was also an LG boat, and a couple of choppers in the air. They had already combed the bottom of the bay, and were now flanking out into the main waters of Lake George. The forensics team had confirmed blood found on an abandoned boat anchored in Paradise Bay.
“Go, go, go,” called Sergeant Jake Prichard, the scuba team leader, his hand swirling in the air. Stacey held her regulator and mask in place as she flopped into the water on her back for the fourth time that day.
She turned her body, looking left and right, getting a thumbs up from the lead diver. She tucked her hands to her side, angled toward the bottom, and kicked.
The plan was to sweep the bottom of the lake from Paradise Bay to the west shoreline, then zigzag up toward the Mother Bunch, and then down toward The Narrows.
Once Stacey got sight of the bottom of the lake, she made a visual to her right. Another team diver was ten feet away, giving her the thumbs-up, bubbles floating above his head. She looked to her left, gave a thumbs up, then focused on bottom of the lake. It took all her energy to push the fact that it was Bill Ludwig’s boat that had been abandoned in Paradise Bay. Bill just happened to be Mary’s lover.
All in all, there were ten divers, equally spaced, ready to comb the bottom of the lake. They’d stay under for about an hour, then another team of divers would relieve them. They would go until the sun set, or they found a body.
Being submerged under water and breathing through a dive regulator was surprisingly soothing. Even a bit relaxing, though her senses were sharp as she took her underwater flashlight and scanned her area. Occasionally, she checked to her left and to her right, just to make sure she was on the right path. At fifty feet, the water had chilled some.
