Back Against the Wall

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “And why was that?”

  He rolled his shoulders, his discomfiture plain. But he’d started this, not her. And...she wanted to know him. He’d hinted before at his mixed feelings about his family.

  “I work long hours. Sometimes, I want to be alone. Or with a friend, or a woman—” he reached for her hand, seemingly not even noticing he’d done it “—not surrounded by thirty-five family members with eight conversations flying by, half of them including a Tony, will you do this? or Tony, Mamá said you could help me.” He shook his head. “I love them all, and I really don’t mind helping out. I just wish the demands weren’t so never ending.”

  “You do have an awful lot of family.” All she had to do was mentally multiply what she had by ten to make her shudder.

  He grimaced.

  “If you moved a little farther away...”

  “With my father gone, I can’t do that.”

  “But she has all your sisters and their husbands. If they’re married?”

  “Four are. The youngest is still in high school, and Isabel is in college.” His smile appeared. “The University of Washington. Mamá wanted her to stay closer, but Isabel is the smartest of all of us. She’s determined to be a doctor, and that’s the best place for her. Wakefield or Whitman College would have been great, but we couldn’t afford that kind of tuition. Anyway, I thought she needed to go away.”

  Beth said, “I think it’s good for everyone to have at least a taste of independence.” She frowned. “What about your brother?”

  “Also in college, at Central.”

  Another state school, this one in Ellensburg, on the eastern side of the mountains, like Frenchman Lake, but a two-or three-hour drive away.

  “Two of my married sisters are pregnant right now,” Tony continued. “Beatrix, who is closest in age to me, already has two kids. Eloisa has a three-year-old on top of being pregnant. My brothers-in-law are all good guys, but they work full time, at least, and all but one have their own families in the area.”

  “Sometimes,” Beth said softly, ashamed but needing to say this anyway, “I wish I didn’t have any family. I know I don’t mean it. Think how lonely that would be. But for a week or two, or a month or two...”

  He smiled again, squeezed her hand, then let it go so he could resume eating. “Maybe a year or two,” he suggested.

  Beth giggled.

  The pizza was fabulous, and they talked more as they ate, but less seriously. When she asked, he agreed that his given name was Antonio, as she’d suspected. They compared favorite and least favorite movies, TV shows, books, social media habits. Beth found his political views an interesting mix and teased that he must get paralyzed when it came time to make a decision about every vote. He didn’t disagree.

  She didn’t want to hurry the evening—she’d have been happy to sit here talking to him for hours—but excitement hummed in the background. He was going to kiss her again. She knew he was.

  If he was hoping for an invitation into her bedroom, he’d be out of luck. She’d never done that on a first or second date anyway, but in this case, Tony’s apology hadn’t entirely restored her trust in his sincerity. And also...she couldn’t forget, and doubted he had either, all the complications in this relationship. With him, she’d have to be very, very sure this wasn’t only fast-acting but short-lived lust.

  Then there was Dad, who needed her. Protecting him was something she had internalized as much as Tony had the guilt his mother used to keep him on a leash.

  Family, she thought with frustration, except she had a surprising, wistful moment, wondering how it would be to have her own. The little girl and boy in her fleeting fantasy had warm brown eyes and their daddy’s black hair.

  And then she wondered if Tony would want children at all after growing up the oldest of eight and still responsible for many of them.

  Second date, remember?

  “Ready to go?” he said suddenly, as if he’d run out of patience with their conversation.

  Embarrassed, Beth realized she couldn’t remember what they had been talking about. Which made her wonder what he’d seen on her face as her thoughts wandered.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Once she slid out of the booth, he laid a hand on her back, as he had at his aunt’s restaurant. Proprietary. Beth had never realized her lower back was so sensitive.

  Unfortunately for her mood, on the drive home, she remembered him saying he had more questions. And, of course, they still had all those boxes sitting on the lawn to go through. Those didn’t worry her. The questions did.

  Maybe it would be better to get those over with before he kissed her. In case she’d regret another kiss, once she heard what he wanted to know.

  When he pulled into a visitor space behind the row of townhouses, Beth took a fortifying breath. “I’m wondering if you’d like to come in for a cup of coffee and to ask me those questions you have stored up.”

  * * *

  TONY ALMOST GROANED. He’d been thinking about long, luxurious kisses, maybe some cuddling, while she’d apparently latched onto his casual comment as if it were barbed wire biting into her flesh.

  “Coffee, yes. But I thought we’d agreed to take the night off.”

  “I’m a worrier.” And, yes, anxiety showed in her eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed. Avoidance just makes me more anxious.”

  “Beth, I’m looking for information. I promise, this isn’t anything that will upset you.”

  “Then why not do it now?” she asked stubbornly.

  There was the line he should have drawn, but continuing to argue was clearly useless. Shaking his head, he said, “Now it is. Ah...do you mind if I bring my gun in? I don’t like leaving it out here.”

  “Why didn’t you say so at the pizza parlor?”

  He smiled. “I picked a booth that let me keep an eye on my truck.”

  Fortunately, Beth laughed. “No, I don’t mind. Having both of us worried at the same time couldn’t be good.”

  After snapping the holster back at his belt, he also grabbed the spiral notebook he kept in the glove compartment, locked up and followed her to the back door.

  This row of townhouses were new and looked classy, at least from the outside; he’d noticed them but hadn’t ever had cause to enter any of them. No security system, he saw, as Beth let them in, but she probably didn’t need one. Neighbors were only a wall away, and her designated parking spot was directly behind her unit. The lighting at the back of the building wasn’t great, but the neighborhood tended to be low-crime.

  The inside was a lot fancier than his house. Hardwood floors, gleaming granite countertops in the kitchen, coved ceilings. He might have been intimidated if her furniture had been as expensive looking, but it wasn’t. He guessed she’d picked up some of the wood pieces at thrift stores or garage sales and refinished them. Pillows on the sofa had been sewn from quilt blocks.

  Seeing what he was looking at, she said, “I look for old quilts that are really tattered, so I don’t have to feel guilty cutting them up. I make pillows and table runners from the parts I can salvage.”

  “I like them.” He did. The gently faded fabrics gave the room a comfortable air, helped by warm woods, a couple of bookcases and what looked like an old Persian rug, a little ragged in places. “Nice place,” he added.

  “The rent is more than I should be spending.” She dropped her purse and keys on the go-through to the kitchen. “My last apartment was out by the mall, and there were suddenly a lot of break-ins. The final straw was when I came home one day to find my window jimmied and my TV and iPod gone.”

  “I think we caught that guy. Didn’t you get a call?”

  “Yes, and thank goodness my TV was one of them found in his garage. That’s it.” She nodded toward the modestly sized flat-screen television hung on the wall. “My iPod didn’t show up. Which wasn�
�t that big a deal, but... Oh, you must hear this all the time.”

  “You felt violated,” he said flatly. “Your home should be the place you feel safe. Those are pretty crummy apartments, Beth.”

  “They weren’t so bad when I first moved in.”

  One of his sisters and her husband had lived out there for a couple of years, moving once their baby was born. Tony had been relieved, although he, better than most, knew no place was completely secure.

  Beth poured them both coffee and brought it to the living room. When she kicked off her sandals and curled her feet under her at one end of the sofa, Tony took his cue and sat at the other end. Then she looked inquiring.

  “All I wanted to know was the names of your parents’ friends,” he explained. “I’d like to talk to some of them.” Maybe all, it just depended.

  “Oh. Well, sure.” She made a face. “I’ve heard from several of them.”

  “They called you?” Idle curiosity, or fear of what had been found?

  “People are nosy, you know.”

  A grin tugged at his mouth. “I do know that. I’m even nosier than most.”

  She laughed, looking relaxed and happy, which made him happy. In a contradiction, his desire to keep her that way set him on edge. He was already worrying about the well-being of too many people.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll grab Mom and Dad’s address book,” she said. “That would have phone numbers, and everyone I forget to mention. In fact, you can take the book, as long as you promise to give it back. I don’t think Dad uses it often.”

  “That would be a big help. I’d still like your impressions.” He held his pen poised above the notebook.

  So she started with Debra Abernathy, who’d been divorced two or three times already when Beth had last seen her and had been good friends with Christine. “No kids,” Beth added.

  Had Christine envied her several-times divorced friend because she had the freedom to date new men?

  Beth came up with a list of couples that her parents had socialized with on occasion, commenting on each briefly.

  “I only vaguely remember the Hartleys. I think that’s their name,” she said about the last. “I don’t think Dad liked them that much.”

  “Closest friends?” he asked.

  “As a couple...probably the Longleys, the Oberholtzers and the Schuhs. Maybe the Sagers, although mostly Mom and Dad went there because Mrs. Sager threw parties for every occasion.”

  Mrs. Sager, she told him, managed the Verizon store at the mall. Beth wasn’t sure about Mr. Her mother had been a little disparaging about Gail Schuh because she’d never worked.

  “Didn’t you tell me the Schuhs are divorced now?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know when they split up or if she’s still around here.”

  Tim Oberholtzer was a banker, his wife a florist. Teresa Longley was a middle school counselor; Beth hadn’t liked being assigned to her because she felt sure Teresa would report anything she did wrong to Christine. “Matt liked her,” she added, “but I don’t think she and Mom were friends when he was at the middle school.” Michael Longley was an attorney, a partner in a firm Tony had had dealings with. He particularly disliked one of the partners who handled criminal defense but didn’t recall meeting Longley. Beth thought her mother had met Michael through work, so maybe he specialized in tax law. Beth wasn’t sure about his wife.

  She named a few more female friends, but didn’t know them well. “Mom got together with them when we were in school,” she said with a shrug. “But she’d talk about them. You know.”

  “What about your father?”

  “He’s friends with one of the philosophy professors at Wakefield. I think Dad still has dinner at his house sometimes. Jong Lee. Dad emails regularly with a bunch of people in his field, too.”

  “Anybody else to add?”

  “Nobody I can think of right now. I can ask Matt and Emily, if you’d like.”

  He hesitated over that but couldn’t think of any drawback. “Sure, that would be good.”

  “I might have forgotten someone. I don’t think any of their friends had kids close to my age, so my interest in them was pretty limited.”

  Tony smiled at that. “I wish I could say the same about my parents’ friends.”

  Her laugh was a light ripple he could almost, but not quite, call a giggle. “If they all had eight kids, it stands to reason most of them would have one close to your age.”

  He sighed. “Fortunately, they didn’t all. This generation, we all have friends—and a couple of my sisters have husbands—who aren’t Latino or even Catholic. I can’t say that about my parents.”

  She nodded. “The times are changing.”

  Tony held up the notebook, then tossed it on the coffee table. “This will give me a good start. Now will you come over here?” He lifted an arm invitingly.

  She said “Sure,” but looked a little shy, which had him speculating about her sexual experience.

  He for damn sure wanted his sisters to remain virgins at least until they were in serious relationships and in their twenties, which undoubtedly made him a hypocrite. And, okay, he did judge women who hopped in and out of bed with too many men. It was hard to shake your upbringing. Otherwise, he assumed a woman Beth’s age would have had relationships. He surely had. If she’d had many, or they had been very successful, he’d expect her to be more self-confident, though.

  Since they hadn’t reached a stage where he could ask, however, he let his curiosity go. And she wasn’t too shy to scoot across two cushions and slip into the circle of his arm. She even leaned against him with gratifying trust, her head settling against his shoulder.

  He tucked her closer and bent to rub his chin on top of her head and breathe in her scent. He wanted to kiss her, but felt surprisingly content just holding her, warm and cushiony.

  “I can hear your heartbeat,” Beth murmured.

  “Will it put you to sleep?”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “I’m definitely not sleepy.”

  “No.” He had to clear his throat. “Me either.” He nuzzled her cheek, found his way to her earlobe, where he lingered to nibble, then moved to the tender skin at her temple. He paused to look at her, eyes closed, lashes fanned on her cheeks, her lips parted and cheeks pink. His heart gave something closer to a clunk than a beat. He took in the dusting of freckles that helped give her an innocent, girl-next-door beauty belied by her sinfully sexy body.

  After an inarticulate sound, he kissed her. She let him in immediately, her tongue meeting his eagerly. His body surged. Desperate for more contact, he half lifted her to straddle his thighs. For a moment, Beth looked startled, but when he squeezed her waist with one hand while slipping the other around the back of her neck and drawing her down, she smiled. The curve of her lips had his curving, too, even as he deepened this kiss, taking, demanding.

  She strained against him, her urgency the equal of his. She made little sounds—gasps and whimpers—that drove him crazy. His free hand dipped under the hem of her knit shirt and flattened on the smoothest skin he’d ever felt. Muscles in her belly tightened as he stroked upward until he reached his goal and was able to cup her breast through a bra that felt like satin. Damn, he wanted to tear it off, but even with his brain fogged with desire, he knew he didn’t dare. Still, he kneaded her and rubbed his palm over the tight nubbin in the center.

  Her hips rocked, until she was riding his erection. Tony shifted his attention to her other breast, not wanting to neglect it. Fingernails bit into his neck, an erotic sensation. She moaned.

  “Damn,” he muttered, claiming her mouth with shattering thoroughness. Her hips moved, and he shoved himself up to meet her. They’d started a dance that he didn’t want to stop.

  Somewhere, somehow, he found the self-control to ease out of the kiss. He persuaded his hands to soothe instead of incit
e. He strung kisses along her jaw, down her throat. She let her head fall back as he licked the small hollow at the base, tasting her.

  And then she gave a shaky laugh. He lifted his head and met her heavy-lidded eyes.

  “So much for me standing firm.” Her voice was husky enough to feel like another touch on some especially sensitive part of his body. “I think my body overrode my brain.”

  “It’s supposed to work that way.”

  “Is it?” Her gaze became searching, her expression grave. “That’s never happened to me before.”

  “Good.” Oh, hell, there was the primitive part of him. “I didn’t want to stop, you know.”

  She gave a tiny wriggle that wrenched a groan from him. “I noticed.”

  “Laugh, will you?” He grazed one of her breasts with his knuckles. When her back arched, he smiled, then sobered. “I don’t want you to ever regret getting naked with me. We need to wait until you’re sure you won’t.”

  “Me?” She arched her eyebrows. “What about you?”

  His first instinct was to deny any doubt, but that wouldn’t have been completely honest. Sex he wouldn’t regret. Hurting her he would. Beth wasn’t a woman he could take lightly. This quickly, he could imagine loving her, even thinking about making a life with her. And that scared the crap out of him.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, smiling. “Until we’re both sure we won’t regret it.”

  “Deal.” She sighed and climbed off his lap, leaving him aching and wishing—But she was right. It was too soon.

  He patted her butt. “Walk me to the door.” At least he could sneak in another kiss before he left.

  Chapter Ten

  PARKING HIS UNMARKED police car, Tony studied the elegant stucco building in front of him. Painted a muted gold, accented with a wrought iron gate, it housed the law firm of Longley, Parsons & Schaaf. Complete with an arched opening leading into a small courtyard with a fountain, it had the look of a Spanish mission.

  One of the three reserved parking spots was empty. In the other two were a Cadillac Escalade and a silver Lexus. He’d done some research before leaving the station and knew Longley drove the Escalade. Gleaming black, shiny gold trim, massive. Tony kind of doubted the attorney ever intended to haul anything in it.