“Are those Daphne’s words or yours?” Grace asked.
“She didn’t say it. But I know that’s what she thinks.”
“You can read minds?”
“I’m just saying, she behaves like I’m beneath her.”
“In what way?”
“Whose side are you on anyway?” he asked.
“Yours, of course, but we agreed that truth is the best way to fix things.” Grace waved her hand in the air nonchalant. “I’m not so sure Daphne’s feelings aren’t a reflection of how she feels she’s being treated.”
“I’m not doing anything!”
“Exactly!” Grace’s smile was warm, engaging. “Let’s start there, shall we?”
Grace finished her session with Vincent at 3:15 p.m. He left feeling somewhat encouraged by the homework she gave him to do over the next two weeks. She typed her notes into the computer, updated the files, and prepared for her 4 o’clock appointment. Time seemed to be dragging. She wanted 5 o’clock to hurry up, so she could fall into Paul’s arms. She never thought the day would come when she’d admit, I need him.
At 3:45, she checked her text messages. “LET’S MEET AT THE PARK LOUNGE. ILL BE WAITING. LOVE YOU.” Her body tingled with excitement; she texted back, “HOW AM I GOING TO CONCENTRATE UNTIL THEN? XOXOXO.”
* * *
At 5:15, Grace walked into the Park Ultra Lounge. Paul was waiting at the bar. He rose immediately, pulling her into his arms.
“I got us a quiet table in the back. C’mon.” He waved to the hostess. She grabbed two menus and motioned them to a table for two near the window. Darkness had fallen on J Street. Lights shimmered along the damp pavement. Inside, they were bathed in a soft glow.
“How was your day?” she asked, reaching for his hand across the table.
“I don’t remember. I was too busy watching the clock. I clipped a few wings, set a goat’s leg, and examined a python that lost her appetite. And yours?”
“I will never look at film the same way again. I realized a majority of the drama goes on behind the scenes.” She gazed into his eyes. “I missed you.”
“Let’s talk about your moving in with me. I have to say, I was surprised you said yes so quickly.”
“Why wait?”
“Something tells me you’re not telling me everything.” His eyes matched the color of night. He leaned forward, covering her hands with his. “What’s going on, chér?”
“Sneaky started barking last night. I got scared. I talked to Spider today. He told me to get a gun. Can you imagine?”
“It’s not such a bad idea.”
“I told him to use me for bait, but he said no.”
“Why would you do that, Grace? Jess is dangerous. You know that.”
“I want it over. I’m sick of looking over my shoulder, dreading every time the phone rings. I want my life back, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
“Let me worry about Jess. You worry about what color to paint the bedroom, our bedroom.” His mouth formed a salacious smile. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm.
“Always the Frenchman.”
“I can demonstrate.” He reached across the table, cupped her face and tenderly slipped his tongue inside her mouth. His eyes burned with passion. “More?”
“More?” she asked, reeling from his kiss. “What about dinner?” Her body hungered for his touch.
His eyes scorched her soul. “Let’s get it to go.”
* * *
Jess donned his overcoat. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
“Be down in a minute.” Simone tucked blond strands into a black tam. She applied a coat of mascara and blood-red lipstick and turned in the mirror, seeking no one’s approval but her own. She slipped a pumpkin-leather walking coat over a tight, black mini-dress, grabbed her purse, an umbrella, and closed the door.
Jess paced the lobby. A walk down to J Street would clear his head. His stomach growled. Acid. Too much coffee. He needed something more substantial than the finger food the hotel provided its premium guests. He checked his watch. It was 5:30. Restaurants would be filling up. Too antsy to wait for Simone, he pushed through the double door into the night.
Simone searched the lobby. “Damn you, Sheppard,” she grumbled. She stepped outside, spotting him in the distance. Rather than get his attention with an unladylike whistle, she decided to follow him.
When Jess got to Eleventh Street, he waited for the light to change before crossing the street. He didn’t realize Simone followed a hundred feet behind. When the light turned, he headed towards the Park Ultra Lounge. Up ahead, a couple came through the door with a carry-out bag. He thought nothing of it until they hugged and he heard the woman laugh. Grace?
Simone stopped in Jess’s wake. She watched him duck into the shadows and wondered why until she saw the couple embrace under the street lamp. When the couple got into the truck and drove toward her, Jess pounded his fist on the stucco wall. She turned in time to catch a good look at the blond woman in the passenger seat. Well, well. Aren’t you the pretty one?
Excited, she crossed the street against the light. “Hey, Sheppard! Wait up.”
A horn blared. Brakes squealed. Jess saw Simone give a motorist the finger as she scrambled for the curb. He reigned in his temper and shoved skinned knuckles into his coat pocket.
“Friend of yours?” Simone tilted her head coyly in the direction from which she came. “She’s very pretty.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his face void of emotion. “I got tired of waiting for you.” He nodded toward the Park Ultra Lounge, “Do you want to eat here? Or head to Sandra’s Dee’s for barbecue.”
“Let’s go in here. Looks romantic,” she giggled, mussing his hair.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like an idiot.”
“I know jealousy when I see it, Sheppard. You have a thing for that woman. She was with another man.”
“You’re fuckin’ crazy.”
Her eyes trapped his. “Let me see your hand.”
“I’m in no mood to play your silly games, Simone.” He opened the door and shoved her through. “I’m hungry! Did I not tell you that earlier? First, you make me wait in the lobby. Now you’re pissing me off with your cockamamie accusations. I should have ordered room service.”
“Aw, don’t pout, Sheppard.”
The hostess ushered them to the table Grace and Paul departed a few minutes earlier. Although the table had been reset, Grace’s sweet scent lingered in the air. Jess inhaled. Simone observed with curiosity.
“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone around here.”
“I don’t.” He waved to a server. “What do you have on tap?” The server rattled off a list.
Simone ordered a martini and selected a cheese plate to share before their entrée arrived.
“I think we should discuss moving on, Sheppard.” She scrutinized his reaction. “Let’s head to the tropics. This rain is depressing.” She shrugged out of her leather coat. “Love fashion, but to be honest, I prefer wearing as little as possible.”
Jess didn’t respond. Something dead floated belly-up in his brain. Putrid. If he could, he’d extract it with a sharp object, put it on a bed of lettuce and serve it to Simone. He’d let her feast on the rotten meat. Maybe she’d shut up. His heart thrummed. Blood pumped through his veins. His skin suddenly seemed too tight. A scream welled in his chest. He wanted to release it. Leave? Leave Grace and the plans he had for her? Fat chance.
The waiter brought their drinks. Jess took several pulls off the bottle and sighed. “No one tied an anchor to your lovely, little ass, Simone. You’re free to go whenever you please.”
Simone brought her glass to her lips and sipped. “I wouldn’t leave without you, Sheppard. Despite your, uh…distraction. I like having you around.” She plucked the olive from the Tanqueray and sucked the pimento from the center. Her tongue darted in the hole. “Capisce?”
Jess
sat back, fighting the urge to reach across the table and squeeze her neck until her eyes popped from their sockets. “I’m fine here. I like the rain.”
Simone jutted her bottom lip and whined, “I’m bored.”
“Take up knitting.”
“Fuck you, Sheppard.” She threw the toothpick, missing his chin. “What happened to your sense of adventure?”
Jess picked the toothpick from his lapel and leaned across the table, his voice low and deadly. “I’m not leaving.”
Simone’s lips spread slowly. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“Where do you come up with these insane notions? I’m hungry. Since when is that function up for diagnosis?”
“I saw you punch the wall.” Her finger traced the scrapes on his knuckles. “She was kissing another man.” Simone drained her drink and held the delicate crystal to the light, twisting it back and forth, creating rainbows on the tablecloth. “I say we kill them both.”
* * *
Grace busied herself lighting candles on her nightstand, while thinking about the last time she and Paul made love. They were nestled in his bed at the beach house. She was glad she had changed her linens. The fresh scent added to the delicious aromas gathering in the room and coming from the bath.
Paul remained downstairs cleaning up dishes from their picnic dinner. Her self-assigned task was to slip into something more comfortable and draw a bath, knowing the most comfortable thing she could slip into would be his arms.
She dabbed Michael Kors between her breasts and donned a cream satin robe. The fabric slid sensuously over her curves as she brushed her hair. Once the candles surrounding the steaming tub were lit, she brushed her teeth and returned downstairs to fetch the love that never ceased to amaze her.
“You’re beautiful,” Paul said, nuzzling her neck. His hands roamed her body, his breath warm and his kisses urgent.
“Come.” She took his hand and led him upstairs.
Outside, the wind howled. Rain spattered the window. Flames danced on each droplet as the couple lowered themselves into a bath surrounded by what appeared to be a thousand fireflies.
“I’m going to have to remodel my bathroom,” he said softly, reaching for her ankle. She placed her leg on his chest, and he began massaging, starting with her instep and toes. When he reached above her knee, she inhaled sharply.
“Maybe,” she said, “we can tear out the linen closet to put in a skylight and a jetted tub.”
“Or, we can move to the suburbs and build our dream house.”
“Dream house? I haven’t thought that far ahead.” His hand maneuvered further up her leg, and she caught her breath.
“Ohhh, yes,” she whispered. She sank deeper into the water until he had complete access to her. “Anywhere with you will be perfect.”
As Paul drew her closer, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Light flickered across the droplets on her breasts, and he tried catching fireflies with his tongue. She moaned, moving her hips against his hard flesh. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, and she stopped. It was his turn to catch his breath. He held her tight, pushing himself deep inside. “Don’t move.”
His eyes searched hers as she fought to restrain herself from letting go. “Please,” she begged, and he kissed her deeply as he rose to meet her cries of ecstasy.
When his body shuddered, she collapsed against his chest. He stroked her hair. “Now that we got that out of the way,” he cajoled, “how about dessert?” The water, now tepid, couldn’t compete with the heat their bodies emitted as they rose and dripped bubbles on the floor.
Paul wrapped Grace in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dried her carefully, planting kisses on her damp skin as he went along.
“I love you,” he murmured with each kiss.
Grace dried his shoulders and back with the edge of her towel. Soon, entwined, their love ignited once again. Paul carried Grace to bed where he crawled in beside her, and their passion resumed.
* * *
“I’m calling a taxi,” said Simone. “I don’t care if it is a couple of blocks. I am not ruining my coat to accommodate your melancholy mood. It’s a fucking monsoon out there!”
“Suit yourself.” Jess threw a $100 bill in the leather folder and pushed away from the table. “Don’t wait up.” He didn’t wait for her reaction. He didn’t care. He wanted to get as far away from her as possible. If that meant getting soaked to the bone, so be it.
He plowed into the night, pulling his collar tight against the harsh weather. Wind and rain pelted his face and neck. He walked through midtown, his destination drawing him like a magnet. I need to be close to her. He hunkered down against the storm, ignoring the water filling his shoes, wicking up his socks, making the hair on his legs stiffen. He didn’t care. He was on a mission. She’s mine.
When he arrived on Grace’s street, he saw the truck parked in her drive. The chill in his bones turned into an inferno. Blood rose from his neck to his cheeks. His temples throbbed. He went around back, careful not to leave tracks in the mud. Anger seethed from every pore as he watched light flicker in the window. How romantic. Two figures moved as one, casting shadows on the window.
Tears formed in his eyes and fell with the rain. She’s mine.
CHAPTER 16
THE CURE
“S
top,” Simone instructed the driver. Simone found it odd he never looked back to see if he were being followed. Poor, lovesick Sheppard. Good thing I have the cure.
The taxi stopped long enough for her to snap a photo of the truck parked in the driveway and note the address on her phone. The for-rent sign tickled her pink.
“Take me to the hotel,” she demanded. Her grin wicked, “I’m finished here.” For now.
* * *
“See what I mean?” Grace snuggled closer to Paul, wanting to savor the afterglow of their lovemaking. “She’s barking at something.”
Paul slipped out of bed and pulled on his jeans.
“Should we call Spider?”
“It’s close to midnight, not to mention the gale winds and torrential downpour.” He bent down and kissed her. “I think I can handle it. Keep the bed warm.”
Paul went downstairs to investigate. When he hit the bottom of the stairs, he heard Sneaky growling.
“Hey girl, what wrong? What’s got you so upset?” He didn’t turn on the kitchen light. He moved cautiously through the kitchen, not wanting to upset the dog any further. She paid little attention to him, more concerned with what was on the other side of the door. Paul bent down on one knee and patted her flank. He spoke in a soft, non-threatening tone. “Hey, what’s out there?”
Sneaky whined and then barked. She was trying hard to convey the danger that lie on the other side of the door. She nudged his hand as if to say, “Turn the knob to see for yourself.” He obliged.
Suddenly lightening cracked the sky illuminating the back yard in an eerie glow. Sneaky bark urgently. When Paul stuck his head out the door, he saw a shadow stretch across the fence. Thunder rumbled, and light flashed behind the clouds. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? No. He’s back. The dog growled, and Paul closed the door. “Must’ve been a critter,” he assured the dog, patting her head. He ascended the stairs, restraining his vile thoughts.
“Anything?” Grace sat up in bed. She waited for Paul to undress and reclaim his spot.
“No,” he lied. “I opened the door to show her there was nothing out there. She stopped barking. Probably some poor, wretched raccoon. I’ll check for tracks in the morning.” He climbed in beside Grace, his cold feet making her jump. They began to giggle and kiss. Soon the incident was forgotten, and they drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Jess heard the barking, saw the hall light come on, and he retreated to the bushes until lightning brightened the sky to reveal his hiding place. When the back door opened, he ducked along the fence into the alley. As he ran through puddles, getting soaked through and through, he cursed
the dog. He cursed Paul. He cursed Grace for betraying him. How could she?
He reached the hotel at 2:30 a.m. wet, cold, and miserable. When he opened the door, a tiny, red glow, and a puff of smoke greeted his arrival. He switched on the light to find Simone lounging in a chair, dressed in a sheer, crimson-lace jumpsuit. Her nipples protruded through the thin material. Her hair looked freshly tossed and sexy. Too bad she liked women. His mood parched, Jess announced flatly, “Honey, I’m home.”
“Welcome back, Sheppard.” She sat up, her shoulders back and breasts thrust forward. Her voice silk, she said, “We need to talk.”
“I’m tired. Can it wait?”
“Rest up, Sheppard. We’re moving out of here. I’ll make some calls in the morning.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Simone. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m sure there are some great places around here. I thought you’d be pleased.”
* * *
Paul padded downstairs, quietly, not to wake Grace. He fed the dog, brewed a pot of coffee, and grabbed his jacket. He eased the door open and snuck outside. He walked gingerly through the mud and the aftermath of the storm, careful not to disturb the natural state of things. It didn’t take him long to confirm his suspicions. Washed-out footprints trailed from the bushes to the fence and into the alley where they disappeared. Son-of-a-bitch. He scrubbed morning stubble with his hand. The blue sky pleaded innocence to the savagery of the night. Broken tree branches, uprooted bushes, and flapping roof shingles begged to differ. It would take a few days to clean up the mess. He compared his shoe size to the impressions in the mud. He’s back. Paul suppressed his anger when he saw Grace wave from the kitchen window.
“You’re up.” Paul kicked off his boots and hung up his jacket.
“I reached for you, and you were gone.” Grace poured coffee for two. “Much damage out there?”
“A lot of broken limbs. A few shingles need to be replaced, but we didn’t end up in Oz, so I’d say we’re pretty lucky.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her near. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”
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