by Susan Fox
Looking at her earnest face, her tousled hair and lovely ocean eyes, those long, slim legs beneath the tail of her shirt, the answer didn’t come easily. “I guess,” he said slowly, but immediately the words were out, they didn’t sit right. He and Maura, yeah they’d only known each other a few days, but right from the beginning she’d been special. Already, she was much more than just “fun.” She mattered.
But how much?
He wanted a family and home, but a big part of him figured he’d never make that work. He’d screw it up, the way he always used to. To even think that a grade ten dropout who’d been in trouble with the law could make it long-term with a classy lady with an M.B.A. . . . Well, it was just plain crazy. Wasn’t it?
“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” she said softly.
He realized that, while he’d been musing, she’d climbed off the bed and finished dressing. Now that she was standing, he saw her shirt was buttoned lopsided.
He walked over.
Her body quivered, but she held her ground.
Gently, he reached out and unfastened a button.
She started to pull back. “No, Jesse, I don’t want—”
“You did them up crooked,” he broke in.
“Oh.” She stilled and let him undo all her buttons, then do them up again. “Thank you.”
She should’ve been in his bed, naked and hot and sweaty. He probably could’ve seduced her back there, but that wouldn’t have been fair. Yeah, Fred was onto something, with this stuff about understanding where the other person was coming from.
Didn’t mean Jesse had to like it.
“I hear what you’re saying,” he said. He just needed more time to think about it.
“We can still be f-friends?”
It seemed that word was hard for her to say. He realized that she’d never mentioned friends. Did she have any? “Yeah. I like us being friends.” Not having Maura in his life seemed pretty much unthinkable.
A smile trembled into life. “Me, too. So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then.” He watched her walk away.
He heard his apartment door close and went to the kitchen to look out the window. She got into one of those tiny Smart Cars and drove away.
Shaking his head, he sat down at the kitchen table in his underwear to reflect.
He’d drained his beer, but Maura had taken only a few sips of hers. He lifted the bottle, put his lips where hers had been, and swallowed lukewarm liquid.
With just a few words, she’d changed his world. Dyslexia, not stupidity.
He thought about things he could do that others had trouble with, things he’d always taken for granted. He thought about the jobs he’d lost or walked away from because he refused to read instructions or write reports. He’d always preferred to be labeled a troublemaker than a dummy.
Yeah, he really was an idiot. An idiot for not realizing he wasn’t stupid.
Maura had given him options for a different future. He could get his GED. Maybe even study landscape design.
But at the same time, she’d taken away another option: the one of the two of them being together.
He went to the fridge and got a fresh, chilly beer. No, he was seeing things in black and white, as Fred had termed it. And he was thinking short-term, the way he’d always done.
He needed to change his perspective. He’d be working with Maura, seeing her almost every day, getting to know her better. Yeah, he’d sure as hell miss the sex, but they’d figure out how they felt about each other. Patience wasn’t his long suit, but he could learn—with the right incentive.
One day, he’d no longer be working at Cherry Lane.
One day, there’d be nothing at stake but their hearts.
Jesse had barely slept, his brain was so filled with ideas. Some were hugely ambitious, like being a landscape architect, and like him and Maura maybe getting serious one day.
But one was more straightforward. He made a quick trip during lunch break, then talked to his construction boss and got some more information. He’d have to run his plan by Maura. She might see some angle he hadn’t considered, not to mention some liability issue.
Or maybe that was just an excuse to see her as soon as he possibly could.
Unfortunately, his day job went overtime. Not only didn’t he get a chance to clean up before riding over to Cherry Lane, but he was ten minutes late. At least that Nedda person wasn’t there to scowl at him. Instead, it was Ming-mei, who gave him a friendly smile.
“Ms. Mahoney in?” he asked, enjoying the taste of her name on his tongue. Ms. Warm Honey . . . oh, yeah, she sure was.
“She is. Go right ahead. I’m sure she’ll want to see you.”
He sure hoped so.
When he glanced through Maura’s open door, she was staring straight at him, like she’d been waiting. Her words confirmed it. “Jesse, you’re late. Is everything all right?”
No criticism, just concern and a warm smile.
He smiled back, enjoying the sight of her in a tailored blue shirt with two buttons undone at the collar. Much prettier than the dull gray she’d worn yesterday. Man, he wished he could round her desk and give her a big kiss.
Friends for now, he reminded himself. They’d see where that took them. “Hi, Maura. Yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry, we had to work late on the construction job. Didn’t have a chance to change before I came over.”
Her gaze scooted over him, and he wished there weren’t rips in his jeans and tee. Or maybe he didn’t, because her cheeks flushed as she studied them. “There’s no reason to, when you’re only going to get dirty again. Come in, sit down. Did you have time to get dinner?”
When he shook his head, she said, “I’ll have the kitchen send you a couple of sandwiches when the rush dies down.”
He smiled with pleasure, as much at her thoughtfulness as at the idea of food. “Thanks.”
Color tinting her cheeks, she said, “You thought about what we talked about last night? I mean”—she flushed brighter—“about being dyslexic?”
“Sure did. I want to find out what kinds of programs and courses I could take.”
“I hope you don’t think it’s presumptuous,” she said hesitantly, “but I did a little research.”
“No, hey, that’s great. Thanks.”
Her smile flashed, and he wanted to hug her. Then kiss her. Then unbutton her and lick the sweet curve of her neck, all the way down to other sweet curves, where he’d—He forced himself to stop imagining.
This business of just being friends was going to be tough.
“I talked to a social worker today, Jesse.” She picked up her pen, clicked the top, opened her notebook, and studied it. “I made a list.” Then she glanced up at him and grinned. “Which I need, because my memory’s not as good as yours.”
He liked how she said that, not rubbing his nose in the sorry truth that he’d have trouble reading her list. Yeah, he had a great memory. It was one of the ways he survived in a world that was so reading-oriented. “Tell me what you found.”
She put on those sexy glasses and recited the details of half a dozen different programs. “The social worker recommends the one offered through the education department at the university. Several of her clients have had great success with it.”
“University. Seems like a strange place for someone who never finished high school.” And intimidating as hell.
“They specialize in adult learners. Some students will be older than you. But it’s your decision, Jesse. Call the ones that interest you, and get more details.”
Yeah, it was his decision. And maybe he was man enough to handle a university program. “I’ll call the university first, and see how that sounds.”
When she recited the name and number, he committed them to memory. “Okay, got it. I’ll call tomorrow.” He smiled at her across the desk as she took off her glasses again and put her notebook and pen down. “Thanks for doing this. Thanks for everything, Maura.”
&nbs
p; Had he once thought her blue-green eyes were chilly? Now they were as warm and inviting as a tropical ocean, as the faint scent of gardenia that perfumed the air.
“You’re very welcome. That’s what friends are for.”
He couldn’t look away from those mesmerizing eyes. He wanted to see them widen as he leaned in for a kiss, glaze over with passion . . .
Heat surged through him and his body tightened. Nope, better not go any farther down that road.
Remembering the idea he’d wanted to run by her, he said, “By the way, is it okay if I take a couple hours off on Saturday? I’ll make up the time.”
She nodded. “Of course. You’ve already put in extra time. Do you want to come in late, or leave early?”
“Need to check with her first.”
Her face tightened. Because he’d said “her”? Oh, man, she was jealous. Cool.
“Mrs. Wolchuk,” he clarified. “The one with that little white dog?”
“Boopsy?” There was a smile in her voice now.
“Yeah, Boopsy.” They both chuckled.
“What on earth are you doing with Mrs. Wolchuk? Jesse Blue, you aren’t taking her for a bike ride, are you?” Her tone was teasing.
He laughed again. “No, there’s only one lady I want to take riding. Thought I’d do a little work on her house. I went by and talked to her. Roof’s got some pretty bad leaks, and she’s got a lot of other stuff that needs fixing.”
“I thought she couldn’t afford repairs. Did she have a big win at bingo?”
“Nah. I just figured I’d do it for her.”
She tilted her head. “For free.”
He shrugged. “My boss says I can take some leftover stuff like roof shakes from the job we’re working on now. And use his business discount with suppliers. He’s a good guy.”
“And so are you, Jesse. That’s really sweet . . .” The way her voice trailed off told him she’d thought of one of those angles he hadn’t seen.
“So what’s the ‘but’?” Were they going to need their hostage negotiator to sort this one out? “Are you mad that it’d cost Cherry Lane a new resident?”
“No, of course not. But . . .” She sighed. “It’s so kind of you, but it’s just a Band-Aid, isn’t it?” Her voice was sad. “She’ll need more repairs over the years. You’re only delaying the inevitable.”
He nodded. “Sure. But it could buy her another few years. In her own house, with Boopsy.”
This time neither of them chuckled when he said the name.
Maura brightened. “You’re right. It’s a good idea, and a generous one. She’ll be so grateful. It’s sad how many people are in her situation. I could name a dozen Cherry Lane residents who came here before they were ready, just because they couldn’t keep up their homes.”
“There ought to be an organization that does that kind of thing.”
“Yes, there should.”
They were both silent a moment, then he said regretfully, “I should get to work.”
“Want to go this way?” She gestured toward the window, which was already open.
“Maura Mahoney, have you been hopping in and out through the window?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, Jesse, more and more residents are enjoying the garden, and a few more have donated funds. There’s a heated discussion going on about the type of fish to get for the pond. And Virginia says we need a compost heap.”
“Good idea. It’s great seeing folks getting involved.”
As he stepped over the high sill, he thought about how, when he’d first come here, Maura had wanted to shut him into the courtyard and keep him out of her office. When she’d ventured out herself, she’d been uncomfortable. Now, both of them were moving back and forth.
Between two worlds, he thought. The barriers were coming down. They were friends now. They’d been lovers, and he really hoped they would be again. Trying to be “just friends” with Maura was going to make for an ongoing case of blue balls.
He got to work and stayed at it while almost a dozen residents wandered out to visit. All the time, he was aware of Maura’s open window.
Dusk fell, her window glowed golden, and eventually the seniors went inside.
Jesse leaned against the rough trunk of one of the cherry trees to take a breather and wondered what Maura was doing. Maybe she was enjoying a break, too. Leaning back in her chair, brushing that fiery hair . . .
Long strokes, all the way from the roots to the ends . . .
He imagined standing at the window, watching her brush with long, sensual strokes, the way he’d seen her doing it before . . .
Her back was to him. Jesse pushed the window wider and stepped silently over the sill. Her hand paused. He guessed she was aware of his presence, but she started brushing again.
“Want a hand with that, Maura?”
She swiveled her chair to face him. “I want more than your hand.” Her tone was seductive, matching the gardenia scent in the air.
He gulped. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and she’d unbuttoned another button on her blue blouse. How come he hadn’t noticed before that the fabric was almost sheer? Through it he could see lace covering the soft swell of her breasts. Maybe the same bra she’d worn when they made love in the moonlight.
Slowly she stood and moved the few steps toward him. She placed her hands on either side of his waist.
And he realized that somehow his grubby work clothes had disappeared and he was wearing nothing but a towel. A towel that lifted at the front like it had a life of its own.
“You’re glad to see me,” she murmured throatily.
“Oh, yeah!”
“Do you want me to touch you?”
“Jesus, yeah.”
She flicked the towel open and there was his hard-on, standing up and begging for a treat.
She reached out one of those slender, delicate hands and closed it gently around him.
He’d been wanting this for so long, he groaned with relief, with pleasure.
She slid her hand up and down slowly, experimenting, testing his reactions. “Do you like this?”
“Oh, yeah.” His knees were so weak he could barely stand up. He plunked his butt into the vinyl-covered guest chair he always sat in.
She kneeled in front of him, stroking up and down his shaft. Her hair swung forward, brushing his chest with fiery fingers, and then down his belly, his thighs.
“I’d like anything you did to me, Maura Mahoney.”
“Anything?” she purred.
Her index finger was circling the head of his dick. Even so, he took a moment to think about her question. “Anything,” he confirmed. She could tie him up and torture him, and he’d be in heaven.
But what she was doing right now was just too good, and his arousal was so damned intense, he had to stop her before he embarrassed himself. A guy was supposed to have a little self-control.
So he gripped her wrist and eased her hand away. “My turn.” He unbuttoned her blouse, whipping through the buttons, then undid the one at the waistband of her pants. When he slid down her zipper, she stood and let her pants slip down until they hit the floor. She stepped out of them. She still had her shoes on—strappy sandals with heels. And a lacy bra above a tiny triangle of lace, neither of them doing much to conceal the beauty underneath.
He was so hot, he couldn’t hold back. He slid his hand between her legs.
She gasped, then clenched her thighs around him. The silky fabric was wet. Thank God she was ready for him because he was so ready he was going to burst.
He stroked her a couple of times, just to make sure, and she writhed and moaned, “Oh, Jesse.”
“You want me, Maura?” he growled.
“Yes!”
He grabbed her thong and yanked it down her legs. He hadn’t planned on waiting for her to step out of her panties, but this was Maura. She wasn’t going to make love with underwear tangled around her ankles.
She rested her hands on his shoulders f
or balance and, one foot at a time, carefully freed herself. Then she gazed at him with those vivid ocean eyes and said, “Where?”
Was she thinking he could produce a bed out of thin air? All he cared about right now was getting inside her. That would be plenty special for him. But no doubt she wanted something fancier.
Her desk was tempting—he’d love to shove all those file folders and papers aside—and screw her brains out right beside that silly little clicking pen. But the wood surface looked awfully hard. He didn’t want her to get hurt.
“Jesse?”
“Right here. Sit down.”
“What?”
He grasped her at the waist and she gave one of her cute little squeaks as he hauled her down on his lap, facing him.
“Oh,” she murmured, gazing down at his dick, standing tall between them.
He grabbed her butt, dimly aware that those creamy curves deserved better treatment, and lifted her. Then he eased her down and she gasped when the head of his dick probed her wet folds, seeking entry.
He gritted his teeth, holding back, not wanting to hurt her.
“Jesse, yes.” Her stunning eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips were only inches away. “I want you. Now.”
“Oh, yeah, Maura.”
He gave a giant thrust and she hollered—
“Jesse? Are you still out there?”
What? What the fuck? Slowly, he came to his senses.
Jesus Christ, he was humping a cherry tree and he was about to explode inside his jeans. Shit. Anyone could be watching. No, it was too dark for them to see anything, thank God. He struggled for control.
“Jesse?”
“I’m here,” he croaked.
“Oh, good. Would you mind coming to see me before you leave?”
“Sure.”
“Are you all right? Your voice sounds strange.”
“I’m fine,” he bellowed, frustration fueling his voice.
He was more than halfway tempted to yank down his fly, stick his hand inside, and finish the job. No one could see. He’d be the only one who knew. But with her inside her office across the courtyard, it didn’t feel right.