“Neither did I.”
He kissed her cheek. “Pretty shitty night, huh?”
“I’m sorry.”
“If Lissa had said some of the stuff about me that she said about you I’d have wanted to punch her in the face. Except she’s a girl.”
“The jury is still out on that.”
Ryan laughed. Then he angled her face up and touched her lips to his. It turned into a greedy, shoved up against the wall need that left no illusions about what he really wanted. Her reached under her shirt to caress her breast. “God, I wish I didn’t have a job to do today. All I want to do is roll around with you.”
“Go on. The sooner you go, the sooner you get back.” She pushed him away. When he put his arms around her, she didn’t feel big.
“Friday we’ll go out again and if anybody says anything nasty to you, you just slap them right across the face. I’ll back you up. Unless it’s a guy, then I get to do the honors.”
“I don’t really want to go out again so soon.”
“We’re going out on Friday.” He kissed her cheek again and ducked out the door.
Vicky followed him to the bottom of the stairs and watched as he pulled out of the garage. Waving, she saw him off down the driveway before going back into her own apartment to tidy up after the three AM cooking spree and no sleeping. Letting herself into his house to check the voicemail for new jobs, she discovered that he’d had about the same night she had. Beer bottles and caps littered the counter. The sofa bed in the basement was open and unmade. The walls were finished and only needed painted. She could do that for him. Good exercise too. He’d bought the paint when he went for the wallboard.
Chapter Five
Just as she’d finished the long sidewall, there was a knock at the door. Leaving the roller in the pan, she went up to answer it. Through the sidelight, she saw Frankie on the porch looking toward the garage and her apartment. She opened the inside door and put her hand on the screen door handle, locking it.
Frankie jumped and spun around. “Oh, you’re in here.”
“Is there something you needed?”
“I, ah—You living here now?”
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.” Vicky folded her arms. The action mounded her breasts together and the shirt she was wearing was low cut. She hoped Ryan was right have Frankie ogling her last night. Give him something to really admire.
“No, I guess not. I kinda wanted to see you anyway.”
“Is that so?”
Frankie slouched. “Yeah, well, that’s why I came when I figured Ryan would be out. First, I wanted to say I was sorry for the way Lissa acted last night. She’s still pretty pissed off that Ryan kicked her out.”
“Lissa was cheating on him in his own house. With you.”
“Ah yeah.” Frankie rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the porch floor. “Not my best decision. I’ll have to talk to Ryan about that too. Could you tell him I’m sorry?”
“I can pass along the message.” What a conversation that would be. Welcome home Ryan, before we jump right to the action, I have a message for you from Frankie. He says he’s sorry for screwing your girlfriend on your living room floor.
“Can I come in? I feel like a jackass out here.”
Vicky stared at him. He couldn’t honestly think she was going to let him in when she was here alone. Despite having seen him pulling up his pants as he ran across the driveway to his truck, they were perfect strangers.
“So yeah, I guess I deserve it. Here’s the thing.” He ran his hand through his hair giving him another excuse to bow his head. “After that bad storm a couple weeks ago I was able to get a lot of jobs because Ryan couldn’t get to everybody in time.”
“I recall. I handled many of those cancellations.”
“Yeah, well. Since all that dried up, I’m kinda in a bind.”
If he umed, ahhed, yeahed or welled again, she was going to have to open the door just to swat him. She’d thought Ryan lacked the ability to speak properly, but in comparison he was presidential candidate articulate.
“The way things are going I’m going to have to pick between my rent and my truck payment.”
“Pay the truck payment. That’s something you own and need to do the work you do.”
“Yeah, but then me and Lissa won’t have anyplace to live.”
“Lissa and I,” she corrected. Her snobbishness was showing.
“That’s what I said.”
Her hand itched to smack him. “Lissa can’t get a job?” Hooters perhaps, or a nearby strip club?
“Lissa worked for Ryan for free.”
And lived in Ryan’s house and ate Ryan’s food while doing a terrible job and was apparently not even perusing the want ads. “Are you here because you want to borrow money from Ryan to make your rent?”
“No! I mean, yeah, but I’ll work it off.” Frankie shuffled. “I need my job back.”
Wow, the conversation when Ryan got home was getting better and better. “You want me to ask Ryan if you can have your job back?”
“Would you?”
Vicky put her hand over her eyes and took a couple of deep, centering breaths.
“Are you okay?”
“Wait.” She drew another breath, held it for a count of ten and let it out. Ryan had lost a number of jobs to Frankie right after the storm simply because he couldn’t get to them fast enough. Since things had calmed down, clients were still frustrated at how long the wait time was. Hiring Frankie back would be a smart move for Ryan. If only she didn’t have to be the one to convince him. “I will talk to Ryan when he gets home. I am making no promises. And you may have to accept a cut in pay.”
“Right now, ma’am, any pay would be an improvement.” He peered at her through the screen. “Looks like you’re doing some painting.”
“I am.”
“I can help you with that. No charge.”
“I can handle it myself.”
“Are you sure? I’ve done a lot of painting.”
Bully for you. “No thank you. I’ll talk to Ryan when he gets home. Goodbye.” She closed the door. And she had been so looking forward to Ryan coming home tonight.
* * *
Ryan was so horny he almost couldn’t see straight to turn into the driveway. All day long he’d been tormented by the memory of what Vicky felt like, tasted like, sounded like. All damn day. And he was stuck changing a doorknob, installing a new porch light, turning a compost pile and listening to Emily Ferguson tell him how great her tomatoes were doing in this hot, wet summer and offering him sugar cookies that tasted like dish soap. He slammed the truck to a stop at the porch steps and dropped it into park.
“Vicky, where are ya?” he shouted as he pushed through the door. “I’m home.”
“I guessed.” She came through the kitchen spotted with paint.
“What have you been doing?”
“I am almost finished putting the first coat on the basement.”
“Really?” Most days when he came home to Lissa, she was asking where they were going to dinner. If she’d been really energetic, she’d painted her nails. “Great. I didn’t think I’d get to that before the weekend.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I missed you so much today.”
“I can tell.” She laughed but it had a weird quality to it, a lot like Emily Ferguson’s cookies.
“What’s the matter?”
“Well, Frankie came by today.”
Ryan dropped his arms and stepped away from her. If Frankie had left any fingerprints, he couldn’t see them. “That son of a bitch. I told you he was going to come sniffing around you.”
“It was nothing like that.”
“Oh really? He couldn’t stop staring down your cleavage last night and now he turns up here today? How is it not?”
Vicky licked her lips, which made his focus to flicker. “He came to apologize to me for Lissa’s behavior last night.”
“He better. She acted like a complete brat.�
�� He put his hands on his hips. They wanted to be crawling all over her body and no way was Frankie here just to apologize. “Did he touch you?”
“I didn’t let him through the screen door.”
“Good. Shithead.” Even through the screen door, Frankie would have gotten another eyeful. The neck of that shirt she was wearing was cut low enough that the top of her bra was peeking out at him. Her nipples were hard too. “Just forget all about him. He’s never coming around here again. If he shows up, don’t even open the door. Lissa either.”
“Well, that the thing.” Vicky bit her lower lip. Jesus, if he didn’t get a taste of that pretty soon he was going to have a matched pair of blue balls. “He came to tell you he was sorry about what happened with Lissa and ask for his job back.”
“His job!” Ryan spun around and slammed out the front door. In the driveway he scooped up a handful of gravel and flung it down the lane.
“Ryan.”
He turned to where Vicky was standing on the porch. “You tell that little fuck—Never mind. I’ll tell him.” Ryan pulled his phone out of his pocket. That son of a bitch. Coming back here, asking for his job back, looking to move in on his woman again.
“Wait. Just wait.” Vicky ran across the yard and snatched the phone away from him. “Calm down for just a minute.”
“I don’t want to calm down. I want to bash that fucker’s face in.”
Vicky put her hand on his chest. “Calm down and think about this rationally.”
He lifted her hand to his lips. “All day long, all I could think about was coming home to you and that shit had to show up and ruin it.”
“It’s not ruined. I have a meatloaf in the oven and the bed is made with clean sheets.” She stroked his cheek. “First, we need to talk about this and then we can get to the fun part.”
He closed his eyes. Her voice was probably the sexiest thing about her. Her voice and her legs. And her ass. The tits were great too. And the brain. The brain was more than he could handle. Just the whole package was amazing.
“Since you lost Frankie you’ve lost jobs because you can’t be in two places at once. According to your records, the clients paid you and you paid Frankie a percentage. Because there were two of you, you were also able to get to things in a more timely manner, endearing you to your clients. So you are losing jobs, clients, and money by not having Frankie working for you.”
“I let Frankie back in and he’s just going to start working on you.”
“Look at me, do you think I’m going to let Frankie near me? I have standards.”
He opened his eyes and she was smiling. That killer indulgent smile he’d claw his way through bricks for. “You think I should hire him back on.”
“I do and I already told him he’d have to take a pay cut.”
Ryan laughed. “That’s my girl. You said there’s meatloaf? Do we have time to test out those clean sheets before it’s ready?”
Vicky looked at Ryan’s picture on her phone. He’d asked her if she was sure about this. She’d said she was. Now, not so much. He was a gorgeous young man and he loved her.
And he’d pointed out the day before yesterday that her clothes were huge on her and falling apart. All she’d taken when she moved out was a suitcase full of too tight workout clothes.
In the picture Ryan was smirking at her with the sun in his eyes about to get into his truck to head out for the day’s jobs. She climbed out of her car and went to the front door instead of pulling into the garage and directly into the kitchen as she always had. At the front door, she wiped her sweaty hands on her yoga pants and waited. Never noticed how grotesquely large the house was before. Brick exterior, Georgian details. Two floors, four bedrooms, three and a half baths and a downstairs office which she could peek through the windows of if she leaned left.
All for two people.
Olivia opened the door feigning surprise. It never got to her eyes. Or the Botox kept it from getting to her eyes. She looked thinner in a haggard way, cords standing out on her neck and bones showing through her thin cotton knit blouse. “Victoria! I couldn’t believe it when you called. You look good.” Almost the same thing she’d said when Vicky called yesterday to ask if the clothes she’d packed into the attic were still there and could she come pick them up?
“Thank you. Everything is still in the attic?”
“Of course.” Olivia stepped aside, gesturing toward the stairs and, by default, to Derek who was standing at the base of them.
“Hello Vicky,” Derek said in that deep sexy voice that said trust me so effectively that thousands of people let him handle their accounts. Couldn’t get too upset about that since state law had given her half his assets and half of whatever he earned for the rest of his life in the divorce.
“Derek.” Vicky walked past him struggling to keep her eyes on the stairs. She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he answered all her questions. Hurrying through the hall she yanked open the attic door and rushed into the dark, low ceilinged attic. They was a bad idea. She pulled out her phone and looked at Ryan’s picture again.
It was all for the better. All the pain and insanity led her to Ryan and he really loved her.
“Who’s that?” Derek asked.
Vicky jumped. Her phone slithered out of her hands and dropped to the floor.
Derek scooped it up.
“Give that back.”
“Who is he?”
“My boyfriend.”
Derek cocked an eyebrow.
“His name is Ryan and he’s my boyfriend.”
“He’s half your age.”
“And excellent in bed.” Not half her age. Only fifteen years younger. “And he likes the way I look.”
“So he’s a chubby chaser. How lucky for you.” He handed her phone back.
Vicky put the phone back in her pocket and ventured further into the attic past the seasonal yard decorations that looked like they hadn’t seen the light of day since she left to the stack of plastic tubs labeled in her own neat print.
“You do look good, Vicky. You must be taking good care of yourself.”
“No one else was.” She popped the lid of the top tub. This was why she’d come. Nice clothes with classic lines and high quality construction. Clothes that fit again.
“Your boy not taking care of you?” Derek leaned in so close that his breath caressed her cheek.
“He takes very good care of me.”
“I used to take good care of you.” Derek pressed closer. Hard on. Nice. Had he done this with Olivia when she was out of the room?
“But you found greener, skinnier pastures.” She hefted the top tub off the stack and swung around hoping to clobber him right in the erection, but he twisted and skipped out of range.
“I miss you.”
“That so? Because I don’t miss you.” She walked toward the stairs and met Olivia coming up.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
Utter disgust for my ex-husband? Why yes. Vicky held up the box. “I have two more. I’ll take this out to the car and come back for the others.”
“I’ll get one for you.” Olivia went to the stack and pulled down the middle box.
“Are you sure that’s not too heavy for you?” Vicky asked.
“No, not at all.” Olivia staggered under the load.
Vicky cringed all the way out to her car, listening for the sound of Olivia falling down the stairs. Home wrecker or not, she didn’t want to see the other woman break her neck. She and Olivia forced two of the containers into the back of her Audi station wagon far enough that she’d be able to get the last one in sideways. Derek appeared with it just as they were ready to go back. He dropped it in the space they had made.
“Thank you. I don’t think I have anything else in the house now.” Except for all the furnishings, decorations, paint and carpet.
“It’s really no problem,” Olivia said. “It’s good to see you looking so healthy.”
�
��Olivia, go in the house.”
Olivia jerked. She looked at each of them and then, gaze fixed on the sidewalk in front of her, scurried into the house.
Weight settled in Vicky’s chest. She’d been that woman. Derek fooling around on her might have been the best thing that ever happened. “You really are an asshole, Derek.”
“Don’t be like that. She wants a strong man. You did too once.” He folded his arms. “I miss you.”
“Yes, it must be hell for you only having one woman in your life to make miserable. How’s that harassment suit coming?” Oops, shouldn’t have mentioned that.
His face turned instantly purple. “How did you hear about that?”
Vicky tried to shrug as carelessly as she could. “There was an article online. No names mentioned, but I put the pieces together and you just confirmed it for me.” All those hours spent watching Burn Notice on the exercise bike finally paid off.
“It’s all bullshit. That little tart is manipulating the truth.”
“The problem is, you painted a bulls eye on your back by fucking Olivia at the office while you were married to me.”
Derek sputtered and it was a lovely thing to see.
“I don’t really care one way or the other as long as it doesn’t impact my payments.” Oh she really had to write a nice thank you note to everyone who worked on Burn Notice. Dear everyone, thank you for teaching me how to lie effectively. It’s come in very handy when dealing with my bastard ex-husband. I am considering a career in the CIA now. Have to use the scented notes too.
“Why? Can’t your boyfriend keep you in the style to which I accustomed you? Is that why you’re here picking up second hand clothes?”
Vicky decided to let his emphasis on boy slide. “They were new when I bought them and I still own them so technically they’re not second hand. Why don’t you go back inside and browbeat your current wife to make you feel more manly.” Next call to Terri she’d have to ask her to keep an eye on Olivia. If the woman ever woke up and needed to get away from Derek, she’d need someplace to go. “But wait, you never married her, did you?”
“I learned something from our marriage.”
Covet the Curves: a Romance Collections Anthology Page 22