by T. F. Walsh
Rey’s smile fell off his face. He’d thought Perry was on his side. “I—” he started, then faltered under the intensity of Perry’s glare.
The bell on the front door rang and a young woman came in, a little girl balanced on her hip. Perry cast Rey one last dark look. “I mean it, Rey.”
Rey swallowed. “I believe you.”
“Good.”
Perry turned to her new customer then, her face changing from deathly threat to smiles and charm. Rey, disconcerted, shook his head.
Between the unpredictable weather and the unpredictable women, Colorado was a scary place.
Chapter Seven
Joely left at eleven-thirty for lunch. Rey took advantage of her absence to slip into the office.
“Just want to check my e-mail,” he told Perry, who gave him a dubious nod.
He wasn’t lying—he did want to check his e-mail. He pulled out his computer and booted it up.
Putting Joely completely out of his mind, he glanced over the half-dozen messages he’d received since yesterday. Officially, he was on vacation, but his boss, Bill, knew what he was up to and had sent several notes regarding the case they were building together. Rey still hadn’t gotten pictures of Joely’s pots, but that shouldn’t be too difficult if they continued to give him free access to the shop. He dropped Bill a note to that effect, filing the other messages for later reference.
He was just about to shut the computer off when Perry stuck her head in.
“Hey, do you think you could watch the place for about five minutes while I use the bathroom?” she said.
Perfect. “Not a problem. I’ll be there in a sec.”
“Great.” She let the door fall shut behind her. He snagged his digital camera out of the pocket of his computer case and slid it into his pants pocket. It was a tiny, slim little thing, perfect for this kind of work.
When he came out of the office, Perry nodded her thanks and scooted off to the bathroom. By the time she got back, Rey had taken twenty-five pictures of Joely’s assortment of clay pots, in addition to helping four customers.
“Thanks,” said Perry.
“Not a problem.” He went back into the office, hooked his camera into his computer, and e-mailed the pictures to Bill with a note: “Look at Cherokee’s new lineup. Check for wolves.”
• • •
Joely stood in the tiny general store next to the gas station across the street from her shop. She hadn’t even known, until five minutes ago, that they carried any form of birth control.
Since she’d been too embarrassed to ask anyone where to look, it had taken her ten minutes of wandering around the little store before she managed to find the small selection of condoms. Now she just stood there staring at them, looking, she assumed, like a complete idiot, trying to work up the nerve to buy some.
She had to, though. There were some things she just wasn’t willing to risk, not even to have Rey back in her life. Pregnancy was one of them. She wasn’t really worried about anything else, not with Rey, but she definitely didn’t want any of his strapping, healthy man-sperm to make her life any more of a debacle than it already was.
Finally, she just grabbed a box and shoved it under her arm. It occurred to her that might make it look like she was shoplifting. So she shifted it so it was barely visible and headed for the counter.
At the last minute, she realized she should have bought something else, too. Buying just a box of condoms was so—well, it made it look like she thought she was going to be having sex tonight. If she’d bought some other things, like milk or ice cream, maybe the condoms would have looked like an afterthought.
It was too late. She was standing in front of the counter with her box of condoms, and she’d look even crazier if she turned around and ran. So she set the box down, feeling her face go hot.
“Hi, Ms. Birch,” said the girl behind the counter, and Joely suddenly recognized her as a high school girl who’d worked for her for a few weeks during the summer. Could this get any more humiliating?
“Hi, Darla,” Joely mumbled.
“I hear your husband’s in town,” said Darla brightly, then looked down at Joely’s single item. Her lips clamped shut and she, too, blushed. In silence, she rung up the condoms and took Joely’s cash. Joely grabbed the box and ran, not even waiting for Darla to put it in a bag.
After all this, I damn well better get some, and it better be good.
• • •
With pictures sent and mission accomplished, at least for the moment, Rey decided to spend the rest of the afternoon away from the shop. It was getting hard for him to be in such close proximity to Joely, thinking about what might or might not happen tonight. In addition, business began to pick up right after she came back from lunch at twelve-fifteen, and he was beginning to feel like he was in the way.
Joely barely looked at him as he headed out the door. She looked like her lunch had been traumatic, and he wondered what could have happened. Maybe she’d tell him later. Or maybe she wouldn’t. The thought bothered him. Once upon a time, they’d told each other everything.
He shoved his regrets aside. The more he thought about the past, the more he was reminded that his current situation was mostly his own fault, and that didn’t help him focus on his purpose. He had to concentrate on the present, so the future would fall into place. He couldn’t do anything about the past, so there was no point brooding about it. Besides, if everything went the way he planned, he’d make amends for much of what had driven him and Joely apart.
Right now, he needed to think about tonight. He was almost positive Joely was going to accept his proposal rather than throw him out of her house. This was a good thing. But he had to make sure it was going to work. He needed a plan.
Standing on the sidewalk in front of Joely’s shop, he surveyed his surroundings, assessing his resources. There was a little country store that looked like it stocked basic necessities, a card and gift shop, a liquor store, a florist, the diner, and, a short way up the road, the lodge where he’d stayed his first night here. He smiled as bits of ideas started to bump together in his head. This could work. This could, in fact, work extremely well.
• • •
Two hours later, he stood in front of the desk at the Sky Mountain Lodge, ringing the bell. Several large paper and plastic bags sat on the floor next to his feet. Appearing from behind a door leading to a back room, Virginia tilted him a smile.
“Mr. Birch, right?” she said.
“You know damn well it’s Mr. Birch,” he answered with a grin. “You never did explain why you threw me out.”
She grinned back at him. “You didn’t put your towels away.”
“I most certainly did.”
Still grinning, Virginia pointed at a sign on the wall. “‘Management reserves the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason,’” she read.
“Even spurious reasons?”
“That is correct, Mr. Birch.” She had a definite twinkle in her eye. Rey leaned into the counter, matching that mischievous gaze with a conniving look of his own.
“I have a theory, Virginia,” he said.
“And what would that be?”
“I think you threw me out of the lodge because you wanted me to end up in bed with Joely.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she was still smiling. “Go on.”
“It didn’t work. I ended up on her couch, and my back is still paying for it.” He straightened his spine, which responded with an obliging crack. Virginia winced. “Anyway, I’m thinking that since this was your plan, and since it didn’t work the way it was supposed to, you might be willing to help me with my personal plan, which, in deference to you, I’ll refer to as ‘Phase Two.’”
She studied him reflectively. “Y’know, you could have charmed the pants right off me back in the day.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“As well you should. I was quite the catch.”
“I’m sure you still are. So what do y
ou think? Are you in?”
Her lips pursed as she considered. “You’re right, you know, about why I kicked you out.”
He nodded, trying not to look smug.
“But I’m not sure, now, it was the right thing to do.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If I helped you out, I’d be doing exactly that again.”
He offered his most charming smile. “Has that ever stopped you before?”
“You’ve got a point there.” She uncrossed her arms, dropping her fists on her hips. “What do you need?”
“I just need directions to Joely’s.”
She gave him a long, hard look. Then she pulled a piece of paper and a pen out from under the counter and started writing.
• • •
Joely was carefully wrapping a ceramic owl in tissue paper when the phone rang. Perry picked it up, talked for a moment, then gave Joely a flirty look as she hung up.
“That was Rey,” she said.
Joely eased the well-cushioned owl into a gift box. “What did he want?”
“Nothing. He just said not to worry about him. He got directions from Virginia and drove up to your place about an hour ago.”
“Did you want this gift-wrapped?” Joely asked the customer, then her confusion kicked in. “He did what?”
The customer, a young woman in an extremely pink blouse, said, “No, no gift wrap. Who’s Rey?”
“Her husband,” said Perry, and Joely said, “My ex.”
The woman smiled. “That’s what I love about this place. It’s always so interesting.” She picked up her carefully packaged owl and departed, grinning.
Joely shrugged, trying not to let her imagination get away with her. “Maybe he just got bored.”
“Maybe he’s waiting on your couch. Naked.” She gave a cheeky grin. “You know, with that big nose and everything.”
Joely scowled. “Don’t start, Perry.”
“I’d hurry home if I were you.”
“We close in an hour. I’ll go home then.”
She spent the next hour pretending she had no concerns at all about what Rey might be doing alone in her house. But by the time she turned over the “Closed” sign, her stomach was trembling with anticipation. He’d said he was going to seduce her, and she had reason to know he could do a fine job of it, if he set his mind to it. She pulled out the cash drawer, preparing to take it back to the office to lock it in the safe, but Perry grabbed it.
“I’ll take care of this stuff. You go home and see what’s up.”
Joely opened her mouth to protest, then realized she didn’t want to. “Okay. Thanks, Perry. Don’t count it. We can do that in the morning. I’ll come in early.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” said Perry.
Joely gave her a tolerant smile and a half-amused roll of the eyes. But, secretly, she thought maybe Perry was right.
• • •
Rubbing his hands together, Rey perused his work. The table was set with some pretty stoneware he’d found in Joely’s cabinets. It didn’t look familiar; she must have bought it after she’d moved. Or maybe she’d made it. It didn’t have her mark on the bottom, but the pattern looked like something she’d come up with, with its vibrant, offbeat colors and not-quite symmetrical pattern. In the middle of the table was a large bouquet flanked by candles, which he’d lit. The lady at the florist shop had said they had aromatherapy oils in them that would increase the romantic mood. Rey wasn’t sure he believed in aromatherapy, but he needed all the help he could get. So there were six more candles in the kitchen, burning in different places, adding atmosphere and a subtle fragrance Rey hoped would work its magic on Joely.
He wondered if it would work, though, if the aromatherapy smell was drowned out by the dinner smell. He’d bought dinner to go at the diner and had it warming now in the oven. Virginia had given him suggestions on the diner’s specialties after she’d written up the directions to Joely’s house. So, at the moment, the smell of the candles was barely discernible beneath the smell of warming buffalo burritos. Whatever those were. He hoped they were good.
He’d prepared the bedroom, too, hoping to end up there at some point. There were more candles in there, more flowers, a bottle of champagne. As far as he knew, everything was ready for a full-charge, take-no-prisoners seduction.
Okay, maybe the wartime metaphors weren’t the best. But he was a guy—it was the best he could do.
The sound of gravel crunching in the long driveway was the signal he’d been waiting for. He pulled the wine bottle out of the fridge and set it on the table, then settled himself on the couch, legs crossed. No, legs uncrossed. No, crossed. One arm over the back of the sofa? Maybe he should take off his clothes . . . No, that was pushing it. No point looking like a Playgirl spread. Nonchalant sitting should do it.
Crossed. No, uncrossed.
Too late. Joely opened the door and walked in. She stopped and stared. At him, at the candles, at the bottle of wine on the table.
“What’s all this?” she asked.
“Dinner.”
She nodded, slowly and dubiously. “I see.” Looking more closely at him, she said, “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” He hadn’t been sure what to wear, so he’d settled on jeans, because when he wore them, she kept staring at his ass, and a casual cotton shirt that buttoned down the front, because it would be easy to get out of when the time came. Apparently, they went well together. He was glad Joely approved.
Joely took off her jacket and hung it and her purse on the coat tree by the door. “So, what’s cooking?”
“Buffalo burritos and some rice and beans from the diner.” He turned as she walked into the kitchen and opened the oven to look in.
“Sounds good,” she said.
“I wasn’t sure about the burritos, but Virginia recommended them. Are they like buffalo wings, or what?”
Joely gave him an odd look. “No, Rey, it’s buffalo meat. You know, buffalo? Those big hairy cows?” She wiggled her index fingers next to her temples, imitating small, curled bison horns.
“Oh.” There was a stupid city-boy mistake if there ever was one. “Is that kind of like thinking Rocky Mountain Oysters are really oysters?”
She laughed. “Not quite that bad.”
Her warm smile made him feel less stupid. He got up and followed her into the kitchen. “So, are you hungry?”
“Yes, I am—”
She turned to face him and he caught her, first with his arms, then with his mouth against hers. For a moment she held herself stiff against him, then she melted, slowly but thoroughly.
The barriers were coming down. He could feel them falling one by one as she pressed harder into him, her mouth opening under his. Right now, if he let his hands slide forward to mound her breasts against his palms, he knew she wouldn’t pull away. But he didn’t do it. He walked his fingers softly down her back, just to where her waist met her hips, dancing along the beginnings of that rounded rise. No farther.
He wanted her. More than he could allow himself to show right now. Wanted to taste her skin, her mouth, her body, wanted to bury himself in her, possess her as he had so many times before. Wanted to remind her who she belonged to. But he couldn’t rush her, not right now. He knew she was going to say yes, albeit later, so there was no need. He flattened his hands against her waist and tucked her a little closer against him while his tongue reacquainted itself with the taste of her mouth. Long, slow, gentle strokes, more than chaste, not quite lustful.
She whimpered and her fingers dug hard into his shoulders. Slowly, he drew back. Arousal pounded through his body, making him crazy, making him want more than he should try to take right now. One step at a time, let her lead the way, but his body wanted so much more. His mind, his heart, wanted to be part of her again. He shifted his position against her. He was hard and getting harder, and he didn’t want to prod her. Didn’t want to
make her think he was forcing the issue.
“We should eat,” he said.
Her eyes staring into his had gone dark and glassy with need. She blinked up at him, comprehension slowly returning to her face.
“Yes,” she finally said, in a weak voice. “That would be a good idea.”
• • •
Joely picked at her dinner. She couldn’t bring herself to eat more than half of one of the heavy, cheese-drenched burritos. The rice was lighter and didn’t land in her stomach like a rock, but even that lost its appeal after a few forkfuls.
She poked at the cheese that had melted across her plate, twirling it around the tines of her fork, then laid the fork down and folded her hands in her lap.
“What’s the matter?” Rey asked. He’d demolished an entire burrito and a pile of rice and beans, plus at least two glasses of wine.
“Nothing. It’s a lot of food.”
“No dessert, then?”
The diner was famous for its pies, but Joely’s stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering. She was unaccountably nervous, her hands trembling, her breath too fast, her heartbeat pattering in the back of her throat. “Probably not.”
“That’s okay. It’ll keep.”
He sipped his wine, then set it back down. She watched his hand as it cupped the wineglass, then drew slowly away. His fingers lingered against the rounded belly of the glass and she thought about yesterday, the warmth of his mouth in the cold and snow—
“Rey . . . ” She trailed off, not sure she could say anymore. Still looking at the wineglass, she gathered her courage. “Rey, I want to try it.”
He said nothing. Surprised at the silence, she finally looked up, only to find him looking right at her, an undeniable smolder in his eyes.
“The pie?” he said quietly. “Or me?”
She couldn’t laugh. She was too scared. “You, Rey. You’ve got your month.”
He laid his hand on the table in front of her, palm up. “Thank you.”
For the space of a long breath, she could only stare at his hand, the tapered fingers, the creases across his wide palm. Then, shivering a little, she lifted her own hand and slid it into his. His fingers curled around hers gently.