I’ll Be Seeing U

by Dianne Castell

  Dang, he’d been here six weeks and spoke Tennessee like a pro but what really bothered him was the horny part. He had Sally now and she was terrific and he really cared for her. Jett had ditched him big time, broke his heart and if he had an ounce of sense he should have nothing to do with her ever again, and run like hell in the other direction.

  But he couldn’t do that, his legs wouldn’t move. And that was okay because…because he and Jett were simply old friends. Yeah, that was it. But she didn’t look old. She looked damn sweet in pink shorts, a sleeveless shirt tied at the ends, showing off her belly button, and a small rose tattoo that hadn’t been there before. He tripped, she laughed and waved and walked to him. She touched his hand, throwing him completely off balance, nearly plunging him into the river.

  “Took you long enough to get down here,” Jett said as the deckhands loading supplies onto a tow gave her the once over. Demar bet his badge they’d been giving her the eye since she showed up and he wasn’t the only one who’d nearly tripped off the dock today.

  Jett flashed a perfect grin and pulled up in front of him, the heat from her chest searing his. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through her hair. She had great hair with a touch of gold highlights. “You trying to drive every man on this dock insane.”

  “Only one man here I care about.” Her hand in his felt nice. “Think you can find us a boat like you promised and maybe we can get lost for a while?”

  He nodded to the Mississippi, wide and brown, making its way to New Orleans. “Going to be hot as hell out there in an hour.”

  “Then we’ll find us a nice cool place to relax and catch up on what’s happening in our lives. I really want to catch up with you, Demar.” She pulled him to the back of the dock out of earshot from the workers, under the shade of a birch tree hugging the shore. She nibbled her bottom lip, not like her confident self at all. She gazed up at him, her big brown eyes not bright but sad. “I know I didn’t treat you well and I want to set it straight between us. That’s why I came here. I needed to find you.”

  His gut tightened as he remembered losing Jett. “You ran off to Bermuda with my best friend. That was pretty straightforward.”

  “And that wasn’t cool and I’m sorry. I want us to be friends again. You’re important to me, Demar.”

  “Is this part of your twelve-step program to being a better person?”

  “I want to make it up to you for being a creep.” She looked sullen, in a seductive sort of way. “I want us to spend time together and get things back the way they were. Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life. I’m sorry. Can…can you forgive me for that?”

  He studied her for a moment, his heart beating fast, hormones doing the same. “This is a big turnaround from the mincemeat you made of me a year and a half ago.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you…I was scared of the way I felt about you so I ran away.”

  “Honey, you sure took your old sweet time getting back to me.”

  “That’s because I didn’t know what I wanted and now I do.” She touched his cheek and he couldn’t breathe. “I want you, Demar. I want us to be together again. We’re good together.”

  He tried to think clearly but when it came to Jett he couldn’t string two intelligent thoughts together. That’s how she affected him from the first time he saw her, when they worked together on that case and nearly got trapped in a burning building. “I have someone special in my life. Sally and I are an item, Jett.”

  “And I’ll have to live with that but I wanted you to know how I feel about us.”

  Us! A year ago he’d have skinned a dead cat to hear her say it. This time he touched her, her skin soft against his fingertips as his dick swelled. Think Sally! Sally, Sally, Sally. He dropped his hand away and took a step back. “You and I work in the same office, Jett. We can be friends. We’ll always be friends.”

  She gave him a sweet innocent smile. “That’s all I ask. I wanted to be truthful.”

  He nodded. “Right. Truthful. How long are you going to be here?”

  “As long as it takes for us to be friends again. Am I convincing you?”

  She was doing something to him and it wasn’t good. He couldn’t just stand here and gawk at her like a lovesick fool. “I’ll ask Rory if we can use his chase boat for a few hours.”

  “Rory O’Fallon?” Her eyes rounded.

  “You know him?”

  She shrugged. “Uh…his name’s on the sign coming down here. I didn’t realize you knew the man himself, sugar.” She’d always called him sugar and he’d loved it. His heart skipped a few beats.

  “Everybody around here knows everybody else. Part of being in a small town.” This was good. They were talking about other stuff besides the two of them and he needed to keep it that way. He led the way across the dock, Jett at his side, her breast against his arm. It had to be over a hundred in the shade today. He looked down at Jett, smiling and radiant. More like two hundred in the shade.

  She nodded to the Liberty Lee gleaming in the sunlight at the end of the dock. “Well, this pretty boat sure isn’t one of your towboats. It looks like something right out of the old South.”

  “The Lee’s a showboat. In a few weeks they’re going to put on Arsenic and Old Lace.”

  She flashed her smile and his brain melted. “That’s my favorite play. I’ll stay around. We’ll have to go.”

  “Sally’s probably working the bar that night, I should be doing dinner—”

  Jett framed his face between her palms and her lips went pouty. He was a sucker for those lips. “Come on, sugar. Take me to the play, for old times’ sake.”

  Oh, damn. His dick felt hard as a fence post.

  “Don’t you miss the real shows, the Nashville scene? The action, the music? Just being a real cop in a real city? You’re not a cook.”

  What he was, was a bastard for being this way with Jett when Sally was his woman. “I’m just hanging out on vacation, Jett.”

  “And that means you’re coming back to Nashville soon?”

  Right now he barely knew his name but he sure knew Jett’s.

  “What are you doing here anyway, Demar?”

  Losing his flipping mind, that’s what.

  “This place is so not you and I know you pretty darn well, I’d say better than anyone. I know you’re ticklish as all get out and that you like to be kissed on the back and I know that just putting my hand on your leg—”

  “I’m helping some people I’ve gotten friendly with.” Concentrate…but not on the lips. And after this afternoon he would steer clear of Jett. He had to. “Being a cop was making things complicated so I decided to not be a cop for a while.” He nodded at the building on the dock. “I’ll introduce you to some great folks I’ve met.”

  “Why, sure, like Rory O’Fallon? If they’re your friends I want them to be my friends too.”

  He didn’t expect that. Jett wasn’t exactly the folksy type. Then again maybe she really had changed. Hell, she’d come all the way to Tennessee after him. And she really was after him big time. He never would have expected that. Before he could stop himself he said, “Damn, girl! It is great seeing you again, Jett.”

  She took his hand to her lips and kissed his palm, her mouth against his skin setting his blood on fire, making up for the rotten way she’d ditched him. Her eyes darkened and her voice was like a sensual song kicking his heart into high gear. “It’s good being here, Demar. With you is exactly where I want to be, forever.”

  Sally paced behind the bar, the late afternoon sun sneaking in each time the door opened as Thelma and Conrad, Nick and Nellie, and everyone else came for dinner, except Demar. Where the heck was he? And what the heck was he doing?

  Nothing good, she’d bet on that. The Tennessee tart had him in her clutches. Sally waved to Joe and Betty as they took a table to grab a bite before play practice down at the Lee. Demar should be here, and not just to help at the bar, anyone could do that, but because…because he was her
main squeeze, darn it. She wanted him to be that forever, and she was in no mood to share.

  And to celebrate this momentous decision of declaring her undying love she had something for Demar under this black T-shirt, like a lacy push-up bra. She’d been saving it for a special occasion. This was definitely special except the darn thing was gradually inching it’s way up to her chin because she didn’t have enough endowment to hold it down. Jett didn’t have hold down trouble. Jett had enough endowment to anchor the QE II.

  “Sally?” Quaid asked.

  “What?” she snapped, then instantly regretted it. “You are the third person I’ve done that to in the last half hour. I need a tomato.”

  His eyes laughed but he managed to keep a straight face. “Since when is a tomato your stress food of choice? What happened to chocolate chip cookies? You were always a cookie kind of girl.”

  “I buried them in the back yard, couldn’t just toss them in the trash with no respect. I joined Fat Fighters today.” She patted her not-as-flat-as-it-used-to-be stomach. “Too much barbecue, corn on the cob, and of course the cookies.”

  “Sounds like Demar problems.”

  “Nope, his gut is still firm and flat. Men are like that. They give up their afternoon doughnut and lose ten pounds in twenty-four hours. Life is so not fair.” She pulled a cherry tomato from behind the counter, chomped and made a face. “And this is so not a cookie. But, since you brought up the Demar issue, have you seen him or that good-for-nothing skinny bimbo with the large melons he left with?”

  “Wow.”

  “Cookie deprivation.”

  “What’s Demar doing with this less-than-desirable woman if he has you around?”

  Sally discreetly tugged at her undergarments.

  “Bugs biting?”

  Guess not discreetly enough. “Garter belt’s riding up to my rib cage.”

  Quaid’s eyes rounded as she continued, “I guess I can tell you. I have enticement for Demar, if he ever gets himself back here.”

  “Enticement?” Quaid leaned his elbows on the bar, rubbed his chin and chuckled.

  Sally held out a longneck. “And since you find this all so amusing you can take this to the table in the corner.” She leaned close and whispered under the din of “Chattanooga Blues” humming from the jukebox, “I’m wearing stilettos. If I walk that far I’ll kill myself or get people talking. I don’t know which is worse.”

  “Doesn’t sound like attire from your New York days on the Exchange.”

  “Wore them for a gig I did in Memphis along with Keefe’s fiancée. It’s a long story.”

  “What happened to the Harvard snob?”

  “She’s eating tomatoes.”

  He sat back. “Well I’ll be damned, this sounds serious. The great Sally Donaldson, queen of investments and all things barbecue has fallen off the singles wagon and Demar’s the luckiest man on the planet.”

  “His old ex-girlfriend showed up this morning and right now I don’t think he remembers I’m on the planet.” Sally took a gulp of Quaid’s beer because everyone knew snitched food had no calories.

  “You show him that garter belt and he’ll remember real quick.”

  “But I don’t want him to want me just because we have great chemistry in the bedroom. I want to be on his mind all the time.” She shrugged. “At the moment I think the man has amnesia.”

  “No way. He’ll remember—”

  “Who’s going to remember what?” Demar said as he came up behind Quaid.

  Sally’s heart jumped and her bra slid higher. She reached across the bar and took Demar’s arm. “I want to show you something.”

  “I’ve got to relieve Slim.”

  She yanked him toward the back room, tossing Quaid her bar towel. “Hold the place down for a minute? Don’t eat all my tomatoes.” She dragged Demar back toward the kitchen, stopping at the storage cupboard. Shoving him inside she turned on the overhead bulb, slid the bolt home, locking them in, and flattened herself against the door.

  Demar gave her a what the hell’s going on look. “Since when is there a lock in here?”

  “Since this afternoon. I’m very handy.”

  “Because…”

  She yanked her T-shirt over her head, twirled it around on her index finger and sent it sailing off onto a case of paper napkins. She did a suggestive pose and twitched her hips. “Do you like?”

  “Holy hell, what brought this on? I’m supposed to be working.”

  She pressed her hands to his fly. “I’d say you’re working just fine.”

  She slid her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt and skimmed the red peasant skirt over her hips, tossed it over a keg of beer, then hiked one leg onto a box of potato chips…she’d kill for a potato chip. Instead, she took Demar’s hand and pressed it to her soft patch of curls. “I’m not wearing panties.”

  “I noticed.” He swallowed; beads of perspiration suddenly dotted his upper lip. Now that’s the reaction she was looking for. The discomfort of wearing fishnet hose in ninety-plus weather was worth it. She grabbed a handful of his shirt and brought his face to hers, nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye. She kissed him, adding lots of tongue, her legs parting as his fingers pressed into her wetness.

  “Oh, Demar,” she panted, feeling dizzy, thankful she still held onto his shirt for balance. Perched on one skinny heel did not offer much support. She gasped as his fingers slid into her a bit more and his tongue claimed her mouth. Demar growled deep in his throat and he stepped closer between her legs. “Slim’s going to wonder where I am. I should…”

  She kissed him again and said against his lips, “Take me. Hurry.”

  His eyes went black as she unbuttoned his belt, her hands finding his arousal, hard and throbbing in her palms. “I want you so bad.”

  He eased his fingers from her, yanked off his shirt and dropped it on top of a box. He grinned, his left brow raising a fraction. “A case of Hot sauce.” His low wicked chuckle gave her goose bumps. “And that’s exactly what you are, girl. You are so hot, so lovely…and a little naughty.”

  His muscles glistened in the dim light. “You make me nuts, babe.”

  She cradled his tight testicles in her palm. “And you have such a fine set.” She eased his briefs over his hips, freeing his erection and filling her with pure lust. “You are so fine, Demar.”

  “And flattery will get you everywhere.” He lifted her and sat her on his shirt, then fitted himself between her legs. She ran her fingers over his broad chest, appreciating his smooth dark skin and firm broad shoulders.

  “I hate rushing this, but…” His breathing quickened. “But what you do to me…”

  The scent of sex saturated the small cluttered space as she pulled a condom from inside her bra and held it up. “I thought of everything.” She tore the package and rolled the latex over his penis. “What’s a nice guy like you doing with a big thing like this?”

  “I’ll be glad to show you.” He kissed her and suddenly she couldn’t think of anything besides Demar’s hands on her buttocks, holding tight while sliding himself into her, filling her with one long even stroke. Her hair felt as if it were on fire. Her lungs threatened to burst as he pumped into her again, going deeper. So hard, so incredibly male. She spread her legs wider, arching against him as he pushed into her one more time. She gasped and he kissed her, as she gripped his shoulders with each thrust until her world exploded, leaving only Demar, the man she truly loved.

  Chapter 4

  Damn, Cynthia thought as she yanked off work gloves and looked at the garden she’d slaved over for the last two days. Not that it looked bad—actually, it looked pretty good—but all this work didn’t do what it was supposed to. Weed pulling, hedge cutting, even rock dragging and mole chasing hadn’t made her forget that she threw herself at Quaid O’Fallon and kissed him. How in the heck could she do such a thing?

  She sat on the front steps as evening fell and Ida turned on the lights inside the house. A peaceful time…least it should be. Cynt
hia was not peaceful. Why couldn’t Quaid rejoin the Coast Guard and leave? How could she have the hots so badly for this guy? She was forty, for God’s sake. Over the hot stage of her life and entering the lukewarm stage, right? Wrong! So very, very wrong.

  Lawrence shuffled his way up the driveway and she smiled, adding a little wave. “So, how was doggie day-care today? Looks like Quaid’s working you overtime.”

  “He drove me home.” Lawrence reached in his pocket and pulled out folded bills. “I got paid,” his grin so big there wasn’t much room left for nose and eyes. “I’m going to open an account at the bank tomorrow and save for a telescope.”

  He sat beside her, the stillness of evening falling around them. They spent time together now, enjoyed each other’s company instead of her rushing off to the loft: the upside of losing one’s job, being home and ditching a conniving husband who wasn’t much of a father. “Last time I checked it was a microscope.”

  “Quaid says there’s a place called Stevie’s Ridge between here and Memphis out in the middle of flipping nowhere that—”

  “Flipping?”

  “That’s what Quaid says. I think it’s a colloquialism, I don’t remember hearing it in New York. Anyway, it’s a good place to look at the stars because the lights from the city won’t interfere. And with my bedroom on the third floor here I can set a telescope by the window. Quaid used to go to the ridge and watch the Perseid meteor showers. They’re happening right now, mid-August—and if it’s okay with you he’ll take me.”

  Quaid O’Fallon, stargazer? With some cute chickie tucked under each arm, no doubt. Lawrence’s eyes sparkled. “I could never look at the stars for real in New York with all the lights. This is so great, Mom. I think I want to be an astronomer or maybe an astronaut. Quaid says I’d be a good astronaut because I’m smart. He’s down at the dock. Can you go down and tell him it’s all right to take me to the ridge?”