The Girls of Mischief Bay

by Susan Mallery

  Pam waited, stroking Lulu and breathing slowly. Three kids and a combined total of twenty-one teenage years had taught her that if she stayed calm, the other person tended to stay calm. It was all about controlling the energy in the room.

  Nicole hiccupped a couple of times, then sniffed and raised her head.

  “It’s Eric.”

  “I guessed it was him.” The little pinhead.

  “We had a big fight. I came home to find he’d left our son with a teenager I’d never met.”

  “Are you kidding? How could he do that?”

  “I don’t know. She’s the sister of one of his writing friends. She seemed nice enough…” Her voice trailed off.

  “It’s not about her being nice,” Pam pointed out. “It’s about not talking to you first. It’s about being a parent and a husband. I swear, I want to slap him.”

  Nicole brightened. “Me, too.” Her shoulders slumped again. “It’s just hard right now.”

  Pam couldn’t begin to imagine. While she was sure there were two sides to what was going on in their marriage, there was no excuse for acting the way he was. He had responsibilities and it was time for him to deal with them.

  None of which would be news to Nicole, or the least bit helpful.

  “I’m going to take Tyler,” Pam announced suddenly.

  “What?”

  “For a couple of days. He and I get along great. Lulu loves him, as does John. Honey, you need a break.”

  “Pam, that’s too much.”

  “I’ve had him before. Overnight.”

  “Once and I couldn’t ask.”

  “You’re not. I’m offering. Seriously. I’ll take him for two nights. If he gets upset, I’ll call, but I think he’ll be fine.”

  Nicole’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re so good to me.”

  “I know. And later, you can walk in front of me while throwing rose petals at my feet.”

  Nicole chuckled. “That would be very strange.”

  “Yeah, but I like it when I make people talk.” She staggered to her feet and rubbed the front of her thighs where the burn was the worst. “Just tell me what time to be at your place.”

  “I’ll bring him to you. It’s the least I can do.”

  Nicole stood and hugged her. Pam returned the embrace and realized except for the angry muscles, she was feeling pretty good. This was what she needed, she told herself. To think about someone else. It was good for her.

  Eight

  Friday afternoon Shannon left work at four. Her assistant tried not to show her surprise and failed miserably.

  “You can head out, too,” Shannon told her. “Start the weekend early.”

  “Thank you.”

  Shannon told herself that her good mood came from her satisfaction with work and the blue sky and a bunch of other crap she didn’t believe. Because she knew the truth. She was happy and bouncy and okay, giddy, because she had a date with Adam that night.

  She tried to remember the last time she’d been so excited to see a guy. Nothing came to mind. Maybe it was because they were taking things slow. They hadn’t done more than kiss, which she kind of liked. Not that she wasn’t interested in taking things to the next level. She was. Very much. But anticipation had its place.

  She was home by four fifteen and rode the elevator up to her condo. The space was considered a one-bedroom, plus. There was an alcove off the living room that she used as her home office.

  Sunlight spilled into the living room as she stepped inside. She was on the fifth floor of the six-story building, with a northwest-facing unit. She had a view of the Pacific to her west and the pier and beach beyond to her north. The wide balcony wrapped around from the living room to the bedroom. There was lots of storage, a huge closet in the master and a laundry room big enough for her washer and dryer to sit next to each other rather than stack.

  When she’d bought the place four years ago, she’d worried about paying the mortgage. But the lifestyle Mischief Bay offered had made it worth the gamble. Two raises later, she was paying down her mortgage with a little extra every month and still having some left over for savings and retirement. Life was very, very good.

  She stepped out of her shoes as she entered the bedroom. She was going to shower and redo her makeup and revel in her anticipation.

  She set her phone in the docking station by her bed and selected a playlist. While easy jazz filled the bedroom, she walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, then returned to the bathroom.

  After her shower, she dried her hair, then set it with hot rollers. She wanted lots of girly waves for tonight. Her wardrobe would take a little more thought. Sexy, but not obvious, she thought. Adam was taking her out to dinner. What were her options?

  One hour later, she opened her door to let in Adam. She’d chosen a simple strapless empire waist dress that skimmed her curves. It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t supersexy, but the color brought out the blue of her eyes and the only thing holding it up was one long, easy zipper. She wasn’t sure Adam would notice that fact and be distracted by it, but a girl could dream.

  He wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Simple. Easy. And he still got her heart to fluttering just a little.

  “Hey,” she murmured, stepping back to let him in.

  “Hey, yourself.”

  He looked her over, then shook his head. “How’d I get so lucky? You’re gorgeous, smart and funny. There’s got to be a catch.”

  “I used to be a spy, so I know fifty ways to kill you.”

  He chuckled, then pulled her close.

  She stepped easily into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her eyes drift closed. He kissed her. Softly at first, but then with growing intensity. She parted her lips and felt the first stroke of his tongue.

  Heat poured through her. Wanting followed, leaving tingles and aches in all the most interesting places. Before she could decide if she wanted to take things further, he stepped back and sucked in a breath.

  “Have I said wow yet today, because I should.”

  She laughed. “You’re really sweet to me.”

  “I’m trying to be a good guy. You make it tough.”

  His compliments were handed out so easily, she thought, amazed by the lack of game-playing. Adam thought she was pretty and sexy and he told her. There was no payment for the information, no expectation. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced that. Maybe never.

  “You’re nice to say that, but I have plenty of flaws.”

  “Not that I can see. Why aren’t you dating George Clooney?”

  She laughed. “Because he’s too old for me.” She stepped close to Adam again. “You know what I would really like for dinner?”

  “What?”

  “Pizza. We could have it delivered and just stay in.”

  “I’d like that, too.”

  “Good.” She put her hands on his chest and stared into his eyes. “I’m thinking we can order in about an hour.”

  Confusion drew his eyebrows together. But before he could ask what they were going to do in that time, she very deliberately stepped out of her shoes and then raised herself up on tiptoe to kiss him.

  He responded in kind, moving his mouth against hers. She stepped closer still, pressing her body against his and felt the exact moment he figured out what she was offering. His arms came around her, his kiss deepened and she felt his fingers reach for the zipper at the back of her dress.

  *
* *

  Friday Nicole arrived home at her usual time. She was surprised that Eric’s car was in the driveway. He hadn’t been around much since their fight, and when he was, he tended to avoid her. He’d been sleeping on the futon in his office and heading out long before she was up. Quite the trick considering when she had to get up for her early classes.

  But she hadn’t said anything or even left a note. Probably because she was as reluctant to talk to him as he was to talk to her.

  Their fight had rocked her. Mostly because he seemed to want to assume the worst about her. Like his claim that she didn’t want to read his screenplay and his assumption that she wouldn’t be supportive. That hurt her and left her not sure what to do next.

  Now she carried her tote and gym bag into the house.

  “Hi,” she called.

  “Mommy!” Tyler came running down the hall. “You’re home! You’re home.”

  She dropped everything on the floor and kneeled down to catch him when he flung himself at her. Love washed through her, reminding her what was really important. Whatever she and Eric had going on, they had to protect Tyler. He had to come first.

  She stood and collected her bags, then walked into the kitchen. Eric sat at the table. His gaze was wary, as if he expected her to start yelling at him. Instead, she offered a calm hello.

  “I’m going to put my things away, then start dinner. Are you eating with us tonight?” she asked. Because lately he’d been gone for most evenings.

  “My critique group doesn’t meet until eight tonight,” he said. “I can stay.”

  “Good.”

  She noticed there were a lot fewer dishes in the sink than there had been that morning and that the dishwasher indicator showed the load was clean. But because of their recent fight, she wasn’t sure if she should say anything or not.

  She started the oven. A few months ago she’d turned to the most likely candidate for domestic goddess that she knew and had asked for help. She’d explained how she was always tired and running from place to place and never sure what to do about dinner.

  Pam had told her to set aside an afternoon to cook for the week. She’d also offered a few easy recipes for casseroles and the Crock-Pot.

  Nicole had taken her advice to heart. But rather than give up an afternoon every week, she tried to do two or three weeks of food at a time. She doubled and tripled their favorite recipes. She’d bought smaller casserole dishes that suited the size of their family. Instead of one time consuming lasagna, she made four smaller ones—two meat, two vegetable. They were big enough for dinner and for her to have for lunch the next day. Eric didn’t do leftovers and something like that was too hard for Tyler to have at preschool.

  She made chili and dozens of chicken recipes. She also made it a habit to steam double amounts of vegetables and freeze the extras. They either had them later or she used them in soup.

  After she’d put her things away, she pulled a casserole out of the refrigerator and popped it in the oven.

  “Dinner’s in thirty minutes,” she said. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  Before she headed for the bathroom, she tossed in a load of laundry. To her surprise, she saw that there were towels in the dryer. So he’d done a load today. That was an improvement.

  She hurried through her shower. When she was dressed again, she combed her wet hair, then pulled it back in a braid.

  When she returned to the kitchen, Tyler was gone.

  “He’s watching one of his shows,” Eric said as he set the table. “I thought we should talk.”

  “Okay.”

  He set down the last fork, then faced her. “This is important to me, Nicole. What I’m doing. The screenplay. I think it’s really good. But it’s not just me. It’s my critique group and a couple of other people who have read it. I’m making contacts all the time. Networking. I can do this. I need you to believe in me.”

  All of which would have been nice to hear during one of their fifty thousand fights, she thought grimly. Not that it would have changed much.

  She wanted to say it wasn’t fair. That he was basically holding her hostage. That she’d never been given a choice. But her head told her this was one of those times when she had to suck it up and do what was best for them rather than what was best for her.

  If only they could be the same thing. But they weren’t. So far, she’d rarely found a time when they were.

  “I do believe in you,” she told him. “And I have asked to read your screenplay. A lot.”

  “I know. I was wrong to say that. I’m sorry.” He looked at her. “I need to do this. I need to have my shot. I should have explained all this before, I guess. That one day my boss was talking to me about a new project and I realized this was my life. This was all it was ever going to be. Work I wasn’t sure I liked, let alone loved. I couldn’t do it. So I quit.”

  Without warning. No, she told herself. She’d said that too many times already. They were here, now. They had to deal with this current reality.

  “Okay,” she said slowly.

  “All my energy is going into creating this right now. I’m sorry I don’t have enough left over for you and Tyler, but it’s an all-or-nothing thing for me. This is my shot. I can feel it. I have to put a hundred percent of what I have into the screenplay.”

  “Except for surfing.”

  The words burst out before she could stop them.

  She waited for him to get mad, but he only shrugged. “The surfing helps. It clears my head. So it’s kind of part of my process.”

  Seriously? “I’m guessing housework doesn’t clear your head?”

  One corner of his mouth twitched. “Okay, good point. I’m trying to help out more.”

  “I appreciate the laundry you did and running the dishwasher.”

  He nodded. “Thanks. I know it shouldn’t all be you.”

  The timer dinged.

  “I’ll go get Tyler,” he said and walked out of the kitchen.

  Nicole stared after him. She had thanked him for pushing a couple of buttons on the dishwasher and throwing in a load of towels. When did she get thanked for everything she did, including supporting their damned family? When did she get to go surfing to clear her head? How come she had to be the only grown-up?

  She shook her head and reminded herself she had to focus on what was important. Eric wanted to try. That was something. But what she didn’t know was if it was enough.

  * * *

  “You are such a girl,” Adam said, his tone teasing.

  Shannon sat on the sofa, her wineglass in her hand. She felt good. Satisfied and happy and full. It was a nice combination. She tucked her feet under her. The action caused her robe to fall open a little. But she decided showing a little of the girls wasn’t a bad thing. Adam had certainly appreciated them earlier.

  The lovemaking had been good. Hot and fast the first time, then slow and sensuous the second. He’d explored her body with a combination of skill and enthusiasm, and expressed his appreciation of every inch of her. Afterward, they’d ordered pizza and opened a bottle of wine.

  She watched him peruse her movie collection and realized the piece that seemed to be missing. Drama and pain. She didn’t worry that he was going to try to push her away by being mean, or want to point out that despite what they’d done, she didn’t matter to him. He wasn’t self-absorbed or difficult.

  Bad boys played well in fiction but in real life they were what the name impl
ied. A sucker bet she always lost.

  “I thought my being a girl was something you really liked,” she murmured.

  He winked at her. “It is. But this movie collection. It’s sad.”

  “Too many chick flicks?”

  “Way too many. Where are the action movies? Men with guns driving fast cars?”

  “Oh, right. Well, now you’ve found a flaw.”

  He returned to the sofa and sat next to her. He took the wineglass from her hand and set it on the table then leaned in and kissed her. At the same time he slipped his hand under her robe and cupped her breast. Tendrils of desire curled through her.

  “It’s an easy flaw to live with,” he whispered, then kissed his way down her neck.

  She pulled her robe open and shifted so she was lying beneath him.

  He didn’t need to be invited twice. They went from playing to serious in less than a minute. When he entered her, she arched against him, wanting all of him. Her still-tingling body was coming by the third thrust.

  Later, when they were semiclothed again, she leaned against him. He had his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

  “You’re amazing,” he told her. “Why aren’t you married?”

  She looked up at him. While this wasn’t the first time she’d been asked the question, she generally deflected it. “You mean why hasn’t George Clooney snapped me up?”

  “I know about your thing against George. He looks good, though.”

  “He does.” She stretched her legs across his lap and decided she was okay having this conversation with Adam. A testament to how different he really was from her usual fare. Or Quinn. Talk about a disaster relationship.

  “I’m not married because I’ve never found anyone who could get past my commitment to my career.” She waved her hand. “I’m talking about the past ten years. Not when I was younger. From what I’ve found, men say they’re fine with it until I have to cancel a date or a weekend and then it becomes a problem.”