Together Again: Book 3 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance)

by Peggy Bird

  “It’s not funny. It’s … I don’t know … it’s … I can’t figure it out.”

  “I’m not going to joke you out of this, am I? Okay, then I’ll ask a serious question. Would you like to go away by yourself this weekend to work this out? I assume that’s what the solitude in the wilderness is about.”

  “I was ready to go away and try to work it through but now that you’re here, all I can think about is being with you.”

  “That’s the best thing I’ve heard you say since I got here.”

  “Besides, didn’t you say we should work this out together? A weekend away, just the two of us, would be a place to start, wouldn’t it?”

  “I’d vote for that. But are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “Yes, it’ll be better being with you.”

  “Okay then, why don’t we wait until we get back to Portland to tackle all those questions the hamsters are throwing at you?” he suggested. “How about one weekend of enjoying each other before we get too wrapped up in settling all the details of the next couple decades?”

  “I think I can ignore my hamsters and their squeaky wheels and stupid questions for a weekend. As long as you can provide a diversion for me.”

  “Oh, I think I can manage that.” He motioned to the waiter for the check. “And, just so you know, in answer to one of the questions, Theresa said if I fuck it up, not to bother coming home.” He grinned at her. “She’d rather keep you in the family than me. She also said to remind you what you promised. She wouldn’t tell me any more than that.” He didn’t have to ask the question, his expression did.

  “She made me promise I wouldn’t look for all the reasons this wouldn’t work and make them happen, the way I usually do. She said to just let it unfold naturally. As you can tell, I’m struggling with it.”

  “Try it for the weekend, you might like it.” He signed the credit card slip. “Can we get out of here? You’re right. I’m beginning to feel the time difference and my four AM wake-up.”

  “Yeah, I imagine you are.” She reached across the table, touched his hand. “Do you want to get your suitcase from the hotel where you’ve checked in and stay at my house instead?”

  “I can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Oh, do you want me to stay with you?” He didn’t answer. “Right, you said you were tired. You want to be by yourself tonight. I’ll drop you off. Just tell me where.”

  “That won’t work either.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He grinned. “I never checked into a hotel. We came straight from the airport to police headquarters.”

  “You’ve been waiting for me to ask you to stay with me, haven’t you? And I’ve been slow at doing it.”

  “I was hoping you would ask. If you want to … ”

  “Where’s your suitcase?”

  “At Sam’s desk.”

  “So the entire Portland Police Bureau knows, too.”

  “I didn’t know you wanted to keep it under wraps. You should have told me.” The grin and affectionate expression had been replaced by tensed shoulders and a thin-lipped mouth.

  “No, no, no. I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. That was rude. You have every right to bite my head off.”

  He sat back in his chair, his body more relaxed now. “I’m not particularly interested in biting your head off. Nibbling your mouth, yes. Maybe your ears. Definitely your breasts.”

  “Tony!”

  • • •

  Twenty-five minutes after they left the city, Margo drove into a gated parking lot just off the levee along the Columbia River. After she parked, they went down the ramp to the dock and out to one of the smaller homes in the marina, a shake-covered two-story house with large cobalt blue pots of small evergreens and flowers flanking the door.

  Once inside, she led him upstairs where she suggested he unpack.

  As she moved some of her clothes around in the closet she said, “I have hangers here for your suit and I’ll empty a drawer for you. Oh, and I have to get clean towels. There should be space on the vanity for your … ”

  “I’m not here to see your bathroom or inspect your clean towels, Margo.” He came behind her and put his hands on her waist, turning her around.

  “I know. You’re here to work, but you were … ”

  “No, work got me here but I’m here to see you. We started something when you were in Philly and I don’t want it to slip away.” He kissed her, a Tony kiss, hot, arousing, breathtaking.

  “We better get to bed,” she said. “We both have work tomorrow.”

  “Bed’s good.” His grin didn’t look like he was thinking much about work.

  “Speaking of work … ”

  “Were we?”

  “I was. How’d you get this assignment, anyway?”

  “Fought for it. There was some logic to it — I’ve been working with the task force for a while and had more than a nodding acquaintance with the Jameson case. Told the captain I had connections out here that would be valuable in the investigation.”

  “You have a lot on the line, then.”

  “Not really. My career, my personal life and maybe national security. Nothing important.”

  “Do you ever take anything seriously?”

  “Yes. This.” He kissed her again. “That’s about as serious as I want to get right now. What was that about bed?”

  “I have to go downstairs and turn the lights out and make sure everything’s locked up. Before I do, can I hang up your suit for you so it doesn’t get wrinkled?”

  “That’s not the sexiest invitation I’ve ever had to take my clothes off but, yeah, you can.”

  Chapter 13

  When she woke at her usual 6 A.M., Margo found herself spooned against Tony’s back and legs, her arm around him, the sheet barely covering them from their waists down. His chest rose and fell with his breath; his skin warmed her hand where she touched him. She’d never had a man spend the night in this house and she was surprised how happy it made her to find him beside her. It wouldn’t be too difficult to get used to.

  Carefully she drew away from him but before she could get far, he grabbed her hand. “Don’t go. I like having you wrapped around me.” He turned and kissed her hand.

  “I was just going to put on some coffee.”

  In a voice thick with desire, he said, “Later,” and gathered her into his arms.

  By the time she’d showered, dressed and gone downstairs, a summer storm had come up and she dodged raindrops retrieving the paper. Back inside, she put coffee on, pulled out a frozen coffee cake and a container of raspberries, seeded and sliced a cantaloupe. From her new iPod Pink Martini’s “Everywhere” started playing as she was getting mugs down prompting her to sing along.

  “You’re happy this morning,” Tony said, coming down the steps, dressed for work.

  “It’s a beautiful day.” She got plates from the cabinet and silverware from the drawer as she talked.

  He stopped her from bustling by taking her in his arms. “It’s raining, Margo.”

  “I’ve learned to like rain since I moved to Portland.”

  “Ah, that must be it. Couldn’t be anything else, could it?” The timer on the microwave buzzed and she broke free of his arms to take the coffee cake out. “So, no answer to that question. Change the subject. Got it.” He looked around the living room. “I didn’t pay attention to much of your house last night. I like it.”

  She kept her eyes on the plate she was putting on the table. “We didn’t spend a whole lot of time downstairs, did we?”

  “All I noticed was that it looks like a little house in the woods floating on the water.”

  “That’s exactly why I fell in love with it the first time I saw it.”

  He scanned the downstairs. A couch covered in a floral print, reading lamps at both ends and soft throws tossed over the back, and two chairs upholstered in a deep red fabric made up the living area. The dining table had four un-matched chai
rs around it upholstered in the same red as their bigger relatives in the living room. On the walls were hand-woven hangings, on the floor, vivid Persian-style carpets. Floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with books filled one end of the room and a wood-burning, freestanding stove provided warmth when needed in a kitchen that featured open shelves piled with handmade pottery dishes.

  “After your calm, uncluttered apartment, this must look like the back room of a Goodwill to you,” she said.

  He laughed. “No, it’s comfortable, like a nest. It feels like you belong here.”

  “There’s a guest room back there — ” she nodded her head toward a hall near the stairway, “ — and a small guest bath. Upstairs is my office as well as a deck with a view of the river and the interstate bridge.”

  He poured two cups of coffee, added milk to one he then handed to her. “I was out on the deck before I came downstairs. Who’s the old guy next door? He was watching me pretty close.”

  “That’s Mr. Todd. He takes it as his responsibility to look out for me. Tomorrow, before we go to the Gorge, I’ll introduce you. In the meantime,” she put a platter of raspberries and cantaloupe on the table with the coffee cake, “is this enough breakfast for you? I have some juice, too, and may be able to scare up some cereal but … ”

  “It’s fine. You don’t have to fuss over me.”

  “I want to. I like having you here.”

  He cut a piece of coffee cake and put it on a plate for her. “Good. Because I like being here.”

  • • •

  Saturday morning after breakfast, Margo led Tony down to the end of the dock to show off her river. He stood behind her, his arms around her, as she waxed eloquent on the advantages of living on the water.

  “Your Columbia River is beautiful but I’ve seen rivers before. It’s that I’m interested in.” He pointed to the mountain standing sentinel to the east, its top third covered in snow. “That sure puts what we call mountains in the East into a different perspective.”

  “That’s Mt. Hood. Some places in Portland you can see Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens and, on a really clear day, a little bit of Mt. Rainier.”

  “Mt. St. Helens? The volcano that erupted?”

  “They’re all volcanoes.”

  “Makes it even more interesting.”

  Holding hands, they walked back down the dock toward Margo’s house — and Mr. Todd. Her neighbor was waiting at the open door to his house next door. In a starched white dress shirt and dark trousers with knife-sharp creases, he still looked like the corporate lawyer he once was. He was only about five-feet-four inches tall, with a full head of neatly combed white hair and eyes the color of a faded blue work shirt. But there was nothing faded about the careful way he watched the couple as they approached his house. Margo was sure they’d been under his surveillance from the time they’d walked down the dock.

  He greeted Margo with an affectionate hug. “Good morning, Margo. Nice to see you haven’t run off to work on a Saturday.” He turned to Tony. “And who’s this with you?”

  Making the introductions Margo added, “Tony’s here on police business. He’ll be around off and on for the next week or so.”

  “I hope you enjoy your visit, young man. And that you get to see more of our lovely state than just downtown Portland.”

  “In fact, we’re going to the Gorge for the weekend,” Margo said.

  “Your favorite place. Good. You deserve a weekend off.” He looked at Tony. “Detective, was it? Alessandro, can I have a few words with you before you go?”

  Tony shot Margo a puzzled look but said only, “Of course, sir,” and followed Mr. Todd into his house. Margo went home to finish her packing.

  About five minutes later Tony came in the front door. “That was interesting.”

  “What did he want?”

  “It was like Thursday night with your friend Liz, only she was more subtle.”

  “Liz? Subtle? I don’t think I’ve never heard those two words in the same sentence before.”

  “Well, she was, at least relatively. Mr. Todd flat out warned me that if I do anything to hurt you, I’d have to answer to him. I told him I’ve known you all my life and would never hurt you. I think he believed me. I’m not sure.”

  “Told you he looked after me.”

  “I tried to polish my image by telling him I was here with the FBI working on a case of national importance. Think that’ll work?”

  “Absolutely. After a lifetime of corporate law, he seems to find criminal law exciting. He’s always asking about my cases.”

  “After my experiences with Liz and Mr. Todd, I’d say my family went easy on you, Keyes. Does everyone you know interrogate the men in your life like this?”

  She picked up her duffle bag. “You packed?”

  “Yes. You’re not going to answer that question either, are you?”

  “You catch on quick, Alessandro.”

  Up in the parking lot, as Margo opened the back of her Forester, Tony said, “Maybe you’ll answer this one: do you ski on Mt. Hood?”

  “I don’t ski anyplace. If you’re asking about the rack on top of my car, it could hold skis with the right attachments but the gizmos I have make it a bike rack for my mountain bike.”

  “Jesus, what the hell kind of big city Easterner am I? I fall for someone who lives in the water, owns a four-wheel drive and a mountain bike and spends her free time hiking around in a wilderness.” He looked as if he was rethinking his taste in women.

  Her retort was sharp and quick. “Yeah? Well, what kind of Northwesterner am I when I’m in love with a guy who probably doesn’t even own a pair of hiking boots?”

  He caught what was buried in the sentence. “So, you’re in love with me.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Yeah, you did.” Neither he nor the beaming expression on his face moved.

  “Get in the car, Tony. Just get in the damn car.”

  With the passing of the shower, the weather began to cooperate with Margo’s plans to show Tony her favorite place in all of the Northwest, the spectacular gorge the Columbia River cut through the Cascade Mountains millennia ago.

  Stopping at Crown Point, high above the river on the old highway, they could see for miles upstream and down. Below them, wind-surfers and kite-boarders darted like dragonflies around the occasional barge and towboat convoy. Above, white clouds and the remains of their more sullen relatives that had dispensed rain earlier moved east, occasionally snagging on the tips of trees on the distant hills as if reluctant to leave town.

  Pointing out a bald eagle soaring overhead, Margo asked if he could ever imagine that sight in Philadelphia. Tony replied that the only Eagles he’d ever seen in Philly played in the NFL since he was sure, when the starlings and pigeons moved into Center City, the flying kind had relocated to a better neighborhood.

  After fighting through the crowds to climb for a close-up of Multnomah Falls and then hiking on one of Margo’s favorite trails, they crossed the Bridge of the Gods to the Washington side of the river and checked into the hotel where Margo had a reservation for the night. They had a swim in the mineral pool and a long, leisurely dinner, then headed to their room where they planned to end the day with a soak in the hot tub on the balcony.

  • • •

  Tony took the hotel robes out to the deck, draped them over the railing to give them some privacy and climbed into the hot tub. When Margo had doused all the lights in the room, she joined him, wrapped in a towel, which she dropped onto the deck as she stepped into the water. God, she was beautiful. She looked like Venus or whoever it was in that painting rising from the sea. Except she was getting into the water. Not out of it.

  What the hell was wrong with him? A beautiful naked woman was cuddling up against him and he was thinking about a goddamn painting.

  They sat in silence for a while, the hot tub jets gently massaging them. Finally, Margo said, “This is just about perfect, isn’t it? The smell of the trees, the sta
rs … ”

  “Took us long enough to get here.”

  Her head popped up. “I’m sorry. Was the drive too long?”

  “I didn’t mean to get to the hotel. I meant to get naked in a hot tub.” He settled her back on his shoulder.

  “Oh, that.” She laughed.

  “Did you ever think about it before this summer?”

  “Getting naked with you? Uh-huh. Did you?”

  He kissed the side of her head. “Other than when I was in high school and thought about fucking every girl I saw who wasn’t related to me?”

  “Oh, great. I was part of the cast of hundreds in your teenaged fantasies. Just what every girl wants to hear.” Crossing her arms over her breasts, she drew back from him, trying to look angry.

  “I didn’t say that was the only time, did I?” He pulled at her to get her back into his arms. “Since Mary Ellen’s wedding, I’ve thought about it a lot.”

  “That’s better.” She returned to him. “We really blew it at Mary Ellen’s wedding, didn’t we? What exactly was the emergency that Noah dragged you off to take care of?”

  “No emergency. Just saying good-bye to a couple of relatives. His mother had sent him to find me. He couldn’t look at me for weeks afterwards without a silly grin on his face. Seeing your uncle with his hands on the ass of a wedding guest while they kiss was probably more than a twelve-year-old should know about his godfather.”

  “What did Catherine say?”

  “Apparently he didn’t tell his mother because she hasn’t said anything. And I’m pretty sure she would have said something if she knew.”

  “Pretty sure? She’d have had your head on a pike if she’s the same Catherine I knew.”

  He laughed. “She is. Believe me.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  She sighed against his chest. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. At least not then.”