Shore to Please

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Shore to Please Page 23

by Annette Mardis


  “Places everyone,” the assistant director yelled. “We go live in three minutes.”

  Tara shielded her eyes from the lights and took a frantic survey of the audience. Flipper. She needed one last glimpse of him to settle her stomach. And there he was, boosting her spirits with a broad grin and a thumbs-up. “I love you,” he mouthed. She meant to blow him a kiss but startled when an impatient voice bellowed her name. Instead she gave a quick finger wave and rushed to join the panel.

  *

  As the debate progressed, Flipper’s anger went from a simmer to a rolling boil. He used to be such an easy-going guy, but right now he called on every bit of his flagging self-control to stop him from storming the set and demanding that Wesley, Kenshin, and Larry stop ganging up on Tara. Clearly staggered by the hits from all sides, she struggled to maintain her composure.

  Flipper glared at the three men, even knowing they couldn’t see him, and suffered along with her. He might get fired for what he intended to say to his bosses after the show, but at this point he didn’t care. All he could think about was sweeping her into his arms and carrying her away from the barrage of hurtful words being hurled at her.

  She’d hate being rescued, of course. “I can take care of myself,” she’d say in that prim tone of hers. But her relief was palpable when Helen stepped in. The moderator’s irate expression sent the message she’d had enough of the badgering about Tara’s love life, the breakup of SWADS, and her supposed ulterior motives for nearly everything she’d ever done in her life, or so it seemed.

  “Gentlemen, you’ve disregarded my hints and coaxing, so it’s time to be direct,” Helen scolded. “This is a debate, not a smear campaign. Now stick to the issues, stop slinging mud, and quit interrupting Ms. Langley. I’m especially surprised at you, Mr. Coffey. Didn’t you recently voice support for her relationship with Flipper O’Riley when I interviewed you for a story in the Messenger?”

  “I said, uh…” Wesley took a sip of water. “I said if she makes him happy, then yes, I’m okay with it.”

  Helen scanned the audience until she located him. “How about it, Flipper? Does Tara make you happy?”

  “You’d better believe she does,” he shouted, and the audience applauded.

  Wesley fidgeted and Kenshin seemed unmoved, while Larry appeared primed for another go-round.

  “This isn’t The Jerry Springer Show, Ms. Holt,” he reprimanded. “Let’s stay on topic.”

  “I’d like that very much, Mr. Clybourne. Do you think you can manage that in the time we have left?”

  Larry had homicide in his eyes. But he flashed a placating smile and pointed out that even if they argued all night, the two sides would never agree on keeping marine mammals in captivity.

  “So the way I see it, that leaves only one question, and I still haven’t received a satisfactory answer.” His gaze bore into Tara. “Whose side are you on, Ms. Langley?”

  The audience groaned, and Flipper yelled, “Give it up, Clybourne.”

  A slight smile tipped her lips, and then Tara met Larry’s glare with a cool expression.

  “I’m on the dolphins’ and whales’ side, as I’ve always been,” she replied. “Do you honestly think if you keep hounding me you’ll get a different response?”

  “What I think—”

  “You’ve made your point,” Helen interrupted. “Now, let’s move on. I believe, Ms. Langley, you were asking the aquarium contingent about moving its dolphins to sea pens?”

  “Yes. With the facility’s waterfront location, that would seem to be a feasible arrangement and well worth the investment if it meant those animals could enjoy a setting closer to their natural habitat.”

  “What you’ve failed to take into account,” Wesley began, and the rest of his reply dissolved into white noise as Flipper focused on the woman he intended to share his life with. Tara didn’t know it yet, but he planned to ask her to move in with him, soon. He supposed he was rushing things, but he didn’t want to slow down. If anything, he wished he could go full speed ahead now that he’d decided she was the one for him.

  * * * *

  With twenty minutes left, the house lights came up and Helen opened the program to questions from the audience. One of the first hands to shoot up was Aaron West’s. The way he slunk to the microphone made the hair on Flipper’s arms stand up. What the hell’s he up to? The trainer managed to catch Kenshin’s eye, but his boss gave a barely perceptible shrug, leading Flipper to believe Aaron wasn’t acting at the behest of anyone at the aquarium.

  The man stated his full name but didn’t reveal his employment with GSA, making Flipper even more suspicious. He also noted the sweat stains on Aaron’s shirt and the furtiveness of his expression as his gaze darted among the panelists on the dais.

  “Here’s my question: Now that your credibility as an animal activist is shot, why should we listen to anything you have to say?”

  As a few people in the audience groaned, Helen gave an audible sigh. “Who are you directing your question to, Mr. West?”

  “The red-headed chick.”

  Kenshin rolled his eyes, Wesley’s narrowed, Larry smirked yet again, and Tara’s features projected indifference. Flipper knew her nerves had to be frazzled.

  “Have you and I met before, Mr. West?” she inquired.

  “N-n-no. Why would you think that?” Aaron wiped away the sweat pooling on his upper lip.

  “Because you look familiar.”

  “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

  “Perhaps. To answer your query, I suppose each person in the studio audience and watching at home can decide whether what I say has merit.”

  “Face the facts, lady. You’re finished. Even the group you founded doesn’t want you anymore. So why don’t you do yourself a favor and go find another hobby, like knitting or basket weaving? Seems to me—”

  “Thank you, Mr. West,” Helen interrupted. “You may sit down now. Next question.”

  Aaron shot her a hateful look but gave up the microphone. When he passed Flipper’s row, they glared at each other, and for a brief moment the trainer thought about following his nemesis as he left the studio. But Flipper didn’t want Tara to worry about why he’d walked out, so he stayed put.

  The rest of the questions from the audience were pointed but, for the most part, polite. Flipper barely heard them, focusing instead on the three men flanking Tara onstage. As soon as the debate was over, he intended to make his displeasure known in blunt terms. He was so keyed up he couldn’t keep his legs and hands still, earning him annoyed glances from spectators seated nearby.

  When Helen finally thanked everyone involved and said good-night, Flipper sprang to his feet. But before he could take a step, someone yanked him back down by his shirt. He swore and whirled to find Jonquille towering over him.

  “Do something stupid and you’re on your own,” the HR director warned. “I don’t blame you for being angry, but if you expected anything less tonight, you weren’t being realistic.”

  “How can I continue working for people like that?” Flipper demanded. “They were out to humiliate her. And to insinuate that she leads me around by my dick? How much more insulting could they be? And what’s up with that pissant Aaron? Somebody needs to teach him to keep his mouth shut.”

  Another hand clamped down on Flipper’s shoulder when he tried to hop up again.

  “Let me go, Evan.”

  “Sorry, buddy, not going to happen. And even if you manage to get by me, you’ll still have Jo, Cosby, and the rest of our friends here running interference. Not to mention those gorillas Wesley hired to protect you.”

  Flipper scowled at the sea of faces that now surrounded him, watching his every move with concern, and gave up.

  “This isn’t over,” he vowed to nobody in particular. “I won’t forget what happened here tonight.”

  Chapter 30

  The next morning, Flipper stuck his head in Kenshin’s office, determined to take the high road. Tara had thre
atened to head back to Orlando unless he promised to be civil to his bosses. The strain of holding back his true emotions made him feel as though his guts were inside a paint-mixing machine. It was worth it, though, if it kept her from leaving. Except for an occasional night or two at her condo, she’d spent so much time at his cottage lately that he couldn’t imagine being there without her.

  “You want something, O’Riley, or are you just going to stand there staring into space?”

  Flipper snapped to attention as if someone had goosed him. “Uh, yeah. Got a minute? There’s something I need to say to you.”

  “Seems to me we covered every possible angle of this mess last night,” Kenshin replied. “So unless you’re here to tell me you’ve wised up and dumped that woman, I don’t see anything left to discuss.”

  Flipper nearly bit his tongue in two. “I can’t find words to express how disappointed I am at the way you and Wesley went after Tara. But let’s put our personal feelings aside while we’re at work. You’re the boss, and I’ll respect that. However, my private life is off-limits. Period. Is that understood?”

  Anger flared in Kenshin’s eyes, but then the fight appeared to drain out of him as if someone had pulled the stopper on a sink. Flipper hadn’t seen Kenshin look so sad and worn out since he’d divorced Hoshi.

  “I never wanted to draw a line in the sand, but I didn’t see any way around it.”

  When Flipper opened his mouth to object, Kenshin held up his hand.

  “Let me finish. I can’t take back the things I said last night in the heat of the moment or the way I said them. I regret getting carried away, and I know Wesley does, too. But that doesn’t change the way we feel about your relationship with a sworn enemy of this aquarium.”

  “It’s none of your bu—”

  “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that point. Wesley and I don’t want to lose you. You’re damned good at what you do. But there’s been a loss of trust, and you won’t earn it back overnight.”

  “Right back at you.”

  “Fair enough. So how about, for the sake of the animals, we move forward?”

  “I’d like nothing better.”

  “Good. Now get back to work. I want that training timeline for Trident on my desk by the end of the day.”

  “You’ll have it,” Flipper promised. “One more thing. I don’t want those bodyguards following me anymore. Dismiss them, assign them to someone else, whatever. But I’m done with that.”

  “Did they do something wrong?”

  “No. I don’t need their protection any longer.”

  “Just because there hasn’t been another letter and nobody’s taken a potshot at you lately doesn’t mean the threat is over. I doubt that lunatic has vanished into a puff of smoke.”

  “Maybe instead of bodyguards, Wesley should hire someone to keep an eye on Chase Childers and Larry Clybourne.”

  “You think Clybourne’s our guy?”

  “He spewed a lot of garbage last night. And if looks really could kill…”

  “He’s a douche, all right, but he seems like too much of a puss to be dangerous.”

  “It doesn’t take a macho man, or even a brave one, to hide behind an anonymous letter or a gun.”

  “Very true. I’ll talk to Wesley about it. That’s the best I can do.”

  “It’s a start. Thanks.”

  When Flipper turned to leave, Kenshin called out, “Hey, the café’s running a special on steak and cheese hoagies. You free for lunch later?”

  Flipper recognized the offer as an olive branch, but he wasn’t ready to accept it.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got a lot going on today.”

  “Rain check?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Kenshin’s expression shuttered, and he shrugged. “Fine. Whatever.”

  * * * *

  Flipper couldn’t convince the rent-a-goons to disappear so he could take Tara out for an evening of wining, dining, and slow dancing, or at least a romantic walk on the moonlit beach. His only other option was to stage a night of seduction at the cottage. After she was sated and elated, he’d ask her to move to Gulf Shore. He loved his cozy bungalow but would agree to search for someplace bigger and more upscale if that’s what she wanted.

  He’d brought Kelsey and Dani in on his plan, and they’d invited Tara for an afternoon of pampering at the Placid Waters Salon & Day Spa. After a massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure, they were stopping for dinner at Greens & Grains, which served “gourmet” salads and sandwiches. Jo hated both places on principle, while Kelsey had always wanted to try them. She still had a bodyguard, so Flipper didn’t have to worry about Tara’s safety.

  Monica had recommended he buy flameless candles, and now they flickered in the bedroom and around the edge of the bathtub. She’d also suggested vanilla-scented bubble bath, Godiva chocolates, almonds, and red wine. Flipper’s ego told him he didn’t need supposed aphrodisiacs to turn Tara on, but he was willing to try anything if it helped convince her to make a life with him.

  After he’d finished his preparations, he wolfed down a sandwich, brushed his teeth, and added another song or two to the “music to make love by” playlist on his smartphone. If Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing, Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summer, Madonna’s Justify My Love, and The Power of Love by Celine Dion didn’t get her in the mood, he figured nothing would.

  He’d no sooner finished than Tara breezed through the door looking so beautiful, so relaxed, so aglow that he nearly blurted out everything he held in his heart.

  “Flipper, you’re home. I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.” Her smile couldn’t hide a hint of discontent, and his stomach lurched.

  “Don’t look so disappointed.”

  She dropped onto the couch beside him and kissed him with such longing that his doubts disappeared in a haze of desire.

  “I am happy you’re here,” she reassured him, “but I was planning a surprise and now, well, I guess I can do it another night.”

  “What type of surprise?”

  “If I tell you, it’ll spoil it.”

  “Is it a sexy surprise?”

  “It might be. What type of sexy surprise would you like?”

  “Finding you waiting for me in bed, naked, would work for me. Or you could be wearing your new lace panties. What do you call them? Cheek something?”

  “Cheekinis.”

  “Yeah, those. And those bras. Push-ups?”

  “Mm-hmm. You liked those, did you?”

  “Oh, yeah. Can’t you tell?” He took her palm and placed it on the front of his cargo shorts and then sucked in a breath when she pulled down the zipper and slipped her fingers inside.

  “Very impressive.” She licked her lips, and he twitched. Tara cocked her head as if listening to something. “What? Okay, I’ll tell him.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “Flipper Junior says he wants to come out and play.”

  “Well, by all means, let’s not keep the boy waiting.” He removed her hand and held it as he pulled her up off the couch. “But not here.”

  “What’s wrong with here?”

  “Nothing, but I’ve got something better in mind.”

  When he tugged her into the bedroom, her eyes widened at all the flameless candles. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him with unrestrained enthusiasm.

  “This is wonderful, Flipper. Thank you.”

  “If you like this, wait until you see the bathroom.”

  He led her inside and heard her sharp intake of breath. After hitting play on his phone, he turned on the tub taps and poured in the bubble bath. While the water ran, he danced with her to Berlin’s Take My Breath Away.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Had I known that, I would’ve skipped dinner and come back sooner.”

  “I needed time to get everything ready after I got home from work.”

  “So this outing with Dani and Kelsey was
a ploy to keep me occupied?”

  “Partly. Kelsey knew I was planning a special evening and offered to take you to the spa. She and Dani had been trying to coordinate their schedules to go and couldn’t manage it before now. They were eager to spend some girl time with you.”

  “Good, because I really like them. I wasn’t sure I’d make friends here, but so far it’s working out well.”

  Thank God. “I’m glad.”

  He gave her a quick kiss and shut off the faucet. Turning, he found her unbuttoning her blouse and staring at him as if he were a slice of cherry cheesecake. Or, more likely, beefcake. She shrugged out of the shirt and then her bra. With deliberate slowness, she unzipped her pants, shimmied out of them, and then slipped off her panties. Sashaying to the tub, she settled back as the warm, fragrant water enveloped her.

  “Mmm. This is heavenly.” She crooked her finger at him. “Come join me.”

  Flipper nearly tripped himself in his haste to strip off his clothes and seconds later was leaning back against the other end of the tub. He stroked her thighs with his toes, and she responded by grabbing his foot, moving it between her legs, and grinding against his heel. He nearly climaxed himself watching her writhe in pleasure, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, and her mouth emitting sexy moans.

  After she found her release, Flipper thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she sighed and a self-satisfied smile tipped her lips. He teased her with his toes, and suddenly her eyes flew open and her features took on a stricken expression.

  “Oh my God, Flipper, I didn’t mean…well, I did, but I…uh…”

  If she hadn’t looked so apologetic, he might’ve laughed. She was so cute when she was flustered, and her vulnerability stirred something in him.

  “It’s okay, Tara. You can use me for sex anytime. But I have other parts that are much more fun.”

  She buried her face in her hands, and he scooted closer and reached for the bottle of warm vanilla sugar shower gel. He squirted some in his hands, worked it into a lather, and then started washing her exposed breasts. As he circled and tweaked her nipples, she lowered her arms and reached for him.

  “Lie back and let me make you feel even better,” he invited.

 

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