Roxie pressed her cheek against the cool glass, confusion churning in her belly. It was strange that the idea of reading her e-mails made her nauseous. She usually couldn’t wait to see what a new day at her Web site would bring. Seeing how women had flocked to the site always provided validation, and occasionally a good belly laugh. And seeing thirty-five new merchandise orders would usually send her dancing through the living room—further proof that she’d tapped into the ultimate consumer market: women with disposable cash and a self-replenishing ocean of bitterness to fuel their purchasing decisions.
So why didn’t any of that work for her today? What the hell had happened to the way she saw her career—and herself?
The question was enough to jolt her to attention. Roxanne flipped her hair over her shoulder and began to pace through Eli’s office, her mind racing in a way that now felt foreign to her.
Oh, God. What was she doing to herself? If she’d already gotten to the point where she preferred bliss over pissed, then what would become of the Roxie Bloom everyone knew? What would happen to her business? What would her crew think when their captain abandoned the SS Man Basher in favor of true love?
Roxie cracked her neck as she paced, trying to pinpoint the exact moment the change had occurred. It might have been the first time she and Eli made love, at the moment when everything else fell away except for the intense pleasure and connection. Or it could’ve happened at some point while working with Lilith, maybe the morning Lilith began walking at her side without a leash, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to do. Or the evening Lilith began responding to her hand signals without the backup verbal cues. No. It was likely that sunny morning that Roxie floated in the hot spring with Eli, and let her secrets go.
She crumbled to the floor, right there in front of the huge windows. She sat cross-legged and let her hands dangle from her knees. For a few long moments, she sat perfectly still, hearing the rhythm of her own breath, noting the seamless transition from day to night in the Utah desert. She saw how the light slipped away just as the shadows moved in, and she wondered if maybe that’s how it had happened with her.
As her anger slipped away, a new phase of her life moved in—a phase of happiness, peace, and love.
“Roxie.”
She turned toward the deep, mellow voice. Eli was paused halfway down the spiral stairs that led from the first floor. There was a slight tension between his brows, and his green eyes were filled with concern. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Is everything okay?”
She nodded, but her chin began to quiver and she pulled her mouth tight to keep from blubbering.
Eli leaned his body against the railing, scanning across the room to the computer desk and back to Roxie. He gave her a patient smile. “All’s well with your Web site?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, Eli. I logged on, but I didn’t want to … I couldn’t …”
Eli eased down the remaining steps and headed toward her. He plopped down on the floor at her side.
“Change can be confusing.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure,” he said. “Knowing you has changed me so much I don’t know which end is up anymore.”
She laughed. “Are you talking about the edits I made to your aspiring-pack-leader manual?”
Eli grinned. “You did go a little overboard in killing some of my more creative flourishes.”
“Spelling isn’t supposed to be creative.”
He kissed her quickly. “There’s something I need to tell you, Roxie. Something about me you should know.”
Anxiety rushed through her.
“Nothing too awful,” he said, giving her a shy smile. “I mean, let’s face it. If you’re still here—if you haven’t packed your bags and caught the first thing smokin’ out of Utah—then you must already be okay with it.”
Roxie shook her head. “What on earth are you talking about, Eli?”
He chuckled, raking a hand through his short curls. “Man, this is hard.” He sighed, dropping his shoulders. “Do you remember when you told me you were afraid I’d be boring in bed? That I’d be too restrained?”
Roxie laughed at herself. “Pretty silly of me, huh?”
His eyes turned serious. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never shared with anyone before. You’ll be the only one who knows.”
She swallowed hard. She’d never seen Eli like this, and it scared her. Please, please don’t fess up to some boneheaded man moment worthy of my Web site, she thought.
“I’ve made a good living by keeping my cool, you know? People ask me to teach them to handle their pets and their lives with balance and stability. I love what I do.”
“And you’re good at it,” Roxie offered.
Eli nodded, letting his attention stray out into the twilight. “The thing is, it’s not as simple as that.” He stopped for a moment before he continued, his eyes still focused in the distance. “When I was in college I got myself wrapped up in a girl named Bethany. I thought I was in love. I became very possessive of her—the feelings just swamped me, wiped out my self-control. The first night we had sex—” Eli glanced at Roxie and immediately burst out laughing.
She shut her gaping mouth and tried to quell the worst-case-scenario medley now playing in her head. Obviously, Eli was aware of her internal battle.
He turned and placed his hands on her shoulders and peered closer, touching his forehead to hers. “There are no dead bodies in this story, sweet thing. No rape. No theft. No stalking. No felony of any kind. No cruelty to animals. Just let me explain.”
Roxie squeaked and nodded.
He pulled away and released her shoulders. “I got pretty wild with her one night. I put my hands all over her when we were having sex, grabbing her everywhere, saying some things that scared the shit out of her. I felt possessed, like a crazy man. The whole thing was way too intense for her and she freaked. She ran from me, in tears, and refused to speak to me after that.”
Roxie felt her mouth fall open once more, but didn’t bother to try to close it.
“I decided I’d never go there again,” Eli said matter-of-factly. “Now that I knew there was this feral, out-of-control part of me, I decided I’d better keep it hidden, and in every relationship since I’ve been determined to be as stable in bed as I am at work. I’ve had about six relationships, and every one of those women told me that they loved my cool and collected nature but wanted more than that in bed. I couldn’t give it to them.”
Roxie gasped. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “I’d convinced myself that a happy medium wasn’t possible for me, that I’d never be able to stop once I got started, so I shut down. I chose boring over the alternative. That went on for about twelve years.”
Roxie’s jaw dropped again. Eli used the tip of his index finger to put it back into place.
“But—”
“Then last year, with Tamara, it happened again.” Eli paused and studied Roxie’s eyes. “We were having yet another talk about our future: ‘Are we ever going to get married? When? If not, why not?’ Tamara was a pretty even-tempered person herself, but that night she’d reached the end of her patience, I guess, and was throwing things and yelling.
“She said, ‘You and your goddamn stability!’ ” Eli winced, then checked for how Roxanne was taking it. She straightened her shoulders and kept her eyes wide. “You up for the rest of this?”
Roxie nodded. “I’m listening.”
Eli sighed. “She told me she couldn’t stand it anymore, that living with me was like living with a mannequin. She said, ‘Why can’t you just let go with me, Eli? Why haven’t you ever told me you love me more than life itself, more than the air you breathe?’ ”
“Go on,” Roxie told him.
“She said, ‘Why does it always feel like you’re holding back? Why can’t you just throw me down and fuck the hell out of me? Why can’t you—just once—tell me you’d die without me? Why haven’t you ever just wa
nted me so bad that you lost control of yourself?’ ”
Roxie cracked her neck, which made Eli laugh. They looked at each other for a moment without saying anything.
“So you gave her what she asked for?” Roxie asked.
“Yep.”
“And she freaked out?”
“Oh, yes. She left me that night. Moved to Seattle and got engaged to someone else about six months later, someone she described to me as ‘passionate yet gentle.’ ”
Roxie nodded slowly. “So when you met me—”
Eli jumped up from the floor. He walked to the bank of windows and looked out into the night, his back to her. Roxie saw his shoulders vibrate with tension.
“I knew the second I saw you,” Eli whispered, not turning around. “You were throwing off this tidal wave of angry energy but I sensed something rare and wonderful underneath it. You fascinated me. You thrilled me. I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life. I couldn’t look away.”
“So you turned me down for lunch,” Roxie whispered.
Eli spun around. “Damn, Roxanne! Don’t you hear what I’m saying? The pull I felt toward you was so intense I knew I couldn’t hide myself from you. I knew I wanted to own you, take you, devour you! And here you were, a woman literally marinating in her hatred of men, suspicious and ready for a fight. I turned you down because I thought it was the best thing I could do … for you!”
Roxie rose from her perch on the floor. She went to Eli, slipping her hands around his waist and resting her cheek on his chest. She felt him tremble. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “It explains a lot.”
Eli laughed bitterly into her hair. “God. You have no idea how often I’ve worried that I was a hypocrite, a fake, pretending to be something I’m not.”
“You’re a human being, Eli. You’re a passionate, wildly sexual man who happens to be a gifted dog whisperer. They don’t cancel each other out.”
He gripped her harder.
“You just never found a place where you can be yourself, Eli. Until now. With me.”
She felt his body shake. He held on to her while he cried softly, but only for a moment.
“Roxie.” He peeled her away from him. “Are you sure about this?”
She nodded.
“Because I don’t think I will ever be able to push it down with you, and I don’t know everything that’s inside me.”
She smiled. “We’ll find out together.”
“You’re not threatened?”
She smiled up at him. She went on her tiptoes and kissed the warm piece of exposed flesh above his shirt collar, then leaned back a little so she could look in his eyes. “You’ve surprised me a couple times, but you’ve never scared me, Eli. Whatever goes on with us—here in your office or tangled up in your red flannel sheets—it feels just right. I love how we can talk about anything. I love how we fit together.” She giggled. “I especially enjoy how you get all worked up and growl you’re mine.”
Eli’s eyes widened. “Tell me more.”
She slid her fingers up into his curls and massaged the back of his head. He closed his eyes and groaned with pleasure. “You are the most amazing lover I’ve ever had,” she continued. “Sex with you is on a whole new level. Sometimes when you move your mouth all over mine it feels like you’re claiming me, marking your territory.”
He opened one eye. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yep,” she said. “And when you put your hands on my throat or bite my neck, I fall into a trance. It’s the strangest thing, but I get this sense that my heart is touching yours while you’re taking me over physically. It’s pretty fuckin’ hot.”
Eli’s nostrils began to flare. “This is our last evening alone here, did you realize that?”
She might have been completely turned on by this conversation, but a lump of sadness lodged in her chest. “I don’t want to go back,” she managed to say. “I don’t want to leave here.”
“My sweet Roxie Bloom,” Eli said, kissing her on her cheeks and ears and chin. “That’s the beauty of it—you can come back whenever you wish. Believe it. We can come back, together.”
She nodded. “I believe it,” she said, smiling again. “And you can let yourself go with me, Eli. Bring it on. I’m not scared.”
Eli chuckled. Then he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her off the ground, and crushed his mouth against hers.
Chapter 17
“Beatrice, be a dear and stay for just a moment longer, would you?”
Bea froze where she stood, looking from Gloria to Rachel, who’d already opened the hospital room door and stepped into the hall.
“It’s okay,” Rachel assured her. “I’ll get the car out of the garage and meet you out front. Good night, again, Mother.” With a tender smile, Rachel closed the door behind her and was gone.
“What is it, Gloria?” Bea asked, pulling up the straight-backed chair and scooting close to the side of the bed. Gloria looked particularly gray that evening, and much of the glint had faded from her eyes. She’d had two additional ministrokes, and the doctors had explained that Gloria would require live-in care when—and if—she was discharged from the hospital. It took only minutes for Rachel and Bea to decide they’d move in with Gloria, an arrangement she’d dismissed outright.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” she’d said. “You two just got started! What fun would that be?”
So as Bea leaned close to her now, she expected more of the same fight, and decided to stop it before it started. “No more arguing today, Gloria. You need to rest.”
“I don’t want to argue. I want to explain something to you.”
Bea sighed. “Rachel and I already told you that we want to—”
“I’m dying, Beatrice,” Gloria whispered. “I feel it.”
Bea patted her hand and tried to silence her with a soft, “Shush now.”
“You shush,” Gloria snapped back. “I need to tell you about the nature of your gift, right now, because soon I may not be able to talk at all!”
Bea opened her mouth to protest but Gloria silenced her with a glare.
“You are blessed with certain abilities, Beatrice. You are sensitive and loving and compassionate. You truly want the best for others.”
Bea smiled, but was suddenly feeling uneasy. “That’s nice to say, but—”
“I’m doing the talking. You’re doing the listening.”
Bea’s eyes went wide. “All right, Gloria.”
“Now.” The old woman took a breath. Bea watched her chest tremble with the effort. “You knew Eli was right for Roxie, didn’t you?”
Bea stiffened in her chair, realizing that Gloria must have heard what she’d said to Eli at the baby shower. But how could she have? It had been noisy and Gloria was seated on the other side of the room.
Gloria waved her unspoken questions away. “I saw you talking to him. I knew you were telling him to go after her. My question is this: do you know why, exactly, you did that?”
Bea laced her fingers together and let her hands fall to her lap. Bea had known for a while now that Gloria had a special affection for her, that she’d taken her under her wing. To what end, Bea hadn’t understood until quite recently.
But she didn’t want Gloria wasting her precious energy on anything that wasn’t urgent. And this topic, though fascinating, wasn’t urgent.
Unless Gloria really was dying. Bea tried hard not to cry.
“Go on,” Gloria said. “Tell me how you knew. There’s no time to waste.”
Bea offered her a brave smile and took her cool and dry hand in her own. “It felt right, somehow. It’s hard to describe.”
Gloria smiled back. “Find a way.”
Bea inhaled deeply and let her eyes sweep across the hospital room, noting how the evening shadows made even the flowers and balloons look sad and gray. “I don’t know, Gloria. I’m not sure there are words for it.”
“Oy! You used to know sixty different ways
to tell newspaper readers that a man hit a home run. Give it a shot.”
Bea chuckled, but stopped when Gloria closed her eyes and seemed to go limp. “I’m resting, not dead. Try to find the words.”
Bea rolled her eyes. One of the things she loved about Rachel was that she’d inherited not only her mother’s caring heart but also her preference for pointed conversation.
“I sensed some kind of complementary energy, I guess,” Bea said. “I know this is going to sound very strange to you, but it was almost as if their flavors were what made them go together.”
“Go on.”
“Well, it was like Eli’s qualities had a certain flavor to them. Every time I met him, his energy tasted pleasing and pure but incredibly strong at the same time. It was a wonderful combination. And Roxie, well, she can be tart on the surface and sweet-spicy inside, like Chinese food.”
Gloria blew out a puff of air, her eyes still shut. “So Eli is fine wine and Roxie is sweet-and-sour pork?”
Bea laughed. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”
Gloria opened her eyes. They were sparkling again. Her grin was wide. “It isn’t the words you use to describe the hunch that matter, Bea. It’s the hunch itself. Always go with the hunch, no matter how it comes to you. Me? I relied on a spectrum of humming sensations that would course through me, but I’ve also had that sense of flavor you talk about.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do Rachel and I hum?” Bea asked.
“So loud it’s deafening.”
Gloria was obviously exhausted from the talking. Bea patted her forearm and told her she’d see her first thing in the morning.
“No,” Gloria said, grasping at Bea unsteadily. “Bea, I’m counting on you to carry on the work. Use your gift. Follow your hunches. They are never wrong.”
Not That Kind of Girl Page 23