She sighed. “It worries me that I could get used to this."
His arms tightened around her. “I hope you do. Would it be so bad?"
"No, it wouldn't be bad at all.” She nestled closer. Sleep dragged at her and she started drifting. Barry was rubbing her back, making tiny circles with his warm palm.
She was almost completely out when the sheet settled over them. Total darkness embraced her.
* * * *
She woke to darkness, alone in the bed. She rolled over and checked the clock alarm. It was almost three-thirty. She turned on the bedside lamp. One of Barry's tee shirts was draped over the back of a small recliner and she slipped it on. Padding through the silent house, she found him sitting at his kitchen table in the dark.
"You're sitting in the dark? What's wrong?"
He held his hand out to her. She took it and slid onto the chair next to his.
"Babe, we have to talk."
"I know. Was the sex just to soften me up?"
"Did it work?"
"Probably. You're upset with me, aren't you?"
"No, Court. I'm not upset with you. I just wish you'd have called me when you found that beer can—just on the off chance someone had still been in the house. You don't have to carry the world on your shoulders. I'm here."
"I've been thinking about this all day, Barry. I handled it. I did what was necessary. What would you have done that I didn't?"
"Probably nothing, but that's not my point and you know it."
"I know. It's been a long time since I had anyone to lean on. I know you're right, just give me some time, okay?"
"Court, you've never had anyone to lean on, not the way you can with me. I know Tyler was always there, and your parents, but you've never had a man you could depend on. You don't know how to do that."
His words, so calmly spoken and so full of truth, took her to the edge of tears. She hated to give in to the weakness of tears. Tears solved nothing.
"I'm sorry that's a problem for you."
He squeezed her hand. “It's not a problem, baby. I know it will take a while for you to totally trust me enough to lean on me."
"If you start thinking I'm some weak female, I'll never forgive you."
"I'll never think that. Let's go back to bed and get comfortable."
"Comfortable? Right, McWaters. Comfortable.” Her heart did a little flip in her chest and started beating faster. Deep in her belly, desire flickered.
He chuckled and stood. “You'll be very relaxed and very comfortable when I'm done with you."
The birds were chirping when she finally lay limp and sated in his arms. She nestled in closer to his chest.
"Barry?"
"Hmm?"
"You were right. I'm relaxed."
His reply was a soft snore. She smiled and closed her eyes.
Chapter 19
Barry pulled the tail of his tee shirt out of his jeans and used it to wipe the sweat from his face. He wasn't going to need to stop by the gym today. He was getting plenty of exercise hauling the junk from the carriage house to the basement, or the attic, depending on which way Courtney pointed.
They'd carried most of the contents of the building out into the backyard, sorting as they went. Well, he had carried most of the stuff. Courtney had allowed her backyard world to distract her at every turn. He swore silently that he would not even grin at her. It was a major exercise in self-control. Her delight was his and he soaked up every excited breath she took, the sparkle that was so uniquely Courtney's.
She found a small concrete rabbit and immediately placed it near the fountain. An old, very rustic wheelbarrow found a place of honor near what could be called a flowerbed. At least he thought it was supposed to be a flowerbed. The only thing that looked like a yellow flower had been weeded around.
He had to stop and take a few snapshots of the flowerbed. It was beautiful now, in a faded sort of way, and he knew it wouldn't take Courtney long to have the area weeded and on the way to being a striking display. She had a green thumb although he knew she hadn't used it much.
Wayne had gardeners on staff and Courtney had not had a say in the flowers around her own home. She'd grumbled about it during the time she'd been married to The Jerk. He suspected she'd indulge her love of flowers in a big way with the plantings around the courtyard.
Two old Adirondack chairs were unearthed and she dragged them to the middle of the courtyard. An old crate made a nice place for one to set a glass of iced tea—if a person could get a glass of iced tea.
He settled for a bottle of cold water and made a mental note to bring tea brewing supplies with him the next time they brought stuff to the house.
The cache of old assorted gardening implements had been seized upon with glee. She selected her favorites and instructed him to hang them on display on the side of the carriage house. He was saved from dropping everything and doing it by the fact they didn't have a hammer or suitable hooks. He'd promised her to have it done within a few days.
She kissed him, rising on her tiptoes and slipping a sneaky hand between them to squeeze his manhood. Not that he minded.
The contents were finally sorted, and the items to be stored in the basement all carried down. He'd been to the attic twice and had at least six more trips to make. The only item remaining in the carriage house was an old china hutch too large for them to move without help.
"Barry! Look at this!” Courtney handed him an old hat box. “It was in the hutch."
"Can you clean it up?"
She rolled her eyes at him. “Not the box. What's in the box!” She lifted the lid. The jewelry inside sparkled in the sunlight.
"Wow! What a find! Do you think it's valuable?"
"Collectable, certainly. I can't wait to go through it and see what's there. If there's anything truly valuable, I'll have to try and figure out which of the previous owners it belongs to."
Barry lifted a cameo pin from the top of the assortment. “I think this is real silver.” He handed the pin to her and lifted a heavily beaded choker. Courtney placed her hand beneath the sparkling stones.
"This is citrine. I'd bet on it.” She looked up at him. “This stuff is pretty good quality. Maybe the widows Helms and Watson would know which of the previous homeowners could afford the good stuff."
He nodded, looking over her shoulder. “Your kitchen designer is here."
She put the pieces back in the box and replaced the lid. “You're welcome to join us. I'd like it if you did."
"Oh, man, I just knew you were going to say that.” He grinned at her. “It's your kitchen, babe. Have some fun with it."
She looked up at him, nibbling at her lower lip. He stared, fascinated. He'd never seen her do that before.
"I was hoping you'd paint something on the long wall."
His gaze flicked up to her eyes. She was serious.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well. That's the problem, you see.” She teethed at her lip again and he tingled all the way to his toes. He had to get blood back to his brain. The designer was only five steps away from them.
He took her shoulders and turned her around to greet her guest. And to keep her in front of him for a minute.
She extended her hand to the approaching woman, greeting her warmly.
"Hi, Frannie! Thanks for coming out."
"I had to see this place for myself. What a beauty."
"It will be once that green is gone.” Courtney pulled him forward. “Frannie, this is Barry McWaters."
"The artist! I'm so pleased to meet you, Mr. McWaters.” She held her hand out to him. He grasped it lightly, keeping his grip easy, but firm. “I remember now. You've worked with Courtney for a long time."
Barry released her hand and draped his arm over Courtney's shoulders. “We have quite a partnership."
Courtney glanced up at him. “Let's go inside and get the kitchen figured out, shall we, partner?"
He grinned at her. “When you say it like that, it's pardne
r."
"Ignore him, Frannie. I try to.” Courtney took the other woman's arm and started for the house. Barry stood grinning at their retreating backs. He picked up two small Windsor chairs and followed them. No reason to waste the trip inside by going empty-handed.
Besides, he was going to need something to sit on. This was going to take a while.
Two hours later, he'd managed to escape having to offer an opinion when Courtney looked at him. He closed his eyes. Here it comes. Female mule-headedness.
"And I want Barry to paint a mural on that wall.” Courtney pointed at the long, empty wall.
"You know, babe, I've been sitting here staring at that wall. I think you should put in a big window, with a window seat. You'll have a great view of the courtyard. I'll paint a flower garden with vines and birds and such around it."
The women stared at him, open-mouthed.
Courtney blinked at him.
"It's perfect. It's perfect!" She pounced on him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and planting a wet, sloppy kiss on his lips.
That was perfect.
He grinned up at her. “Does that mean you think it's a good idea?"
"You clown. Yes! It's..."
"Perfect,” they said in unison, dissolving into laughter. Frannie started to close her catalogs.
The ladies concluded their business for the day. Barry opened the door for them, but didn't follow them outside. He returned to his chair and stared at the floor. Something didn't match up.
The more he thought about it, the more he was sure the basement didn't extend all the way to the outside wall of the house. And it had to. The house had to sit on a firm foundation.
What if the widows Helms and Watson were correct and the house had a few secrets?
He grabbed his flashlight and headed for the basement. The stairs were narrow. He had to duck his head in one spot to avoid a beam. At least Courtney wouldn't have to worry about hitting her head on it.
The foundation of the house was laid of local stone. The small windows at the top of the wall gave evidence of the walls being a sturdy eighteen inches wide. Basement walls that thick provided great stability and insulation. He slipped under the stairs and began examining the northeast corner of the foundation.
He really didn't know what he expected to find. There were all sorts of logical explanations for why the inside wall appeared to be placed inside the outside wall.
Perhaps they'd encountered a large boulder or rock slab and had incorporated it into the foundation. The inside wall could be purely cosmetic.
That was the most logical explanation, anyway. Lots of older homes sat on rocks. His grandmother's house had been one of them. As a small boy, it had fascinated him. His grandfather, an artist in his own right, had made the wall around the rock to resemble a scene from the old western movies and spent hours with Barry beside an imaginary campfire.
Barry had learned a lot from that older cowpoke.
He'd been at it for a while when a light touch on his shoulder startled him.
"Jesus, Courtney!” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You sneak about very quietly, did you know?"
She slipped her arms around his waist. “You weren't paying any attention or you'd have heard me. The stairs make a lot of noise. What are you doing?"
"Looking for secrets.” He gave her a quick hug and was rewarded by her smile.
"That's what I thought. Spill the beans, McWaters. What do you think you're going to find?"
"I have no clue. But I think this,” he said, tapping the stones. “This is not the wall that supports the house."
"You think there really could be a tunnel?"
"No, not really. But there could be a secret storage room.” He leaned back against the cool stones and pulled her into his arms. She relaxed against him.
"When they built this place, it would have been very conspicuous to place a metal vault in the basement. It would have been much easier to construct a false wall. Of course, all that's really behind there is a big rock Orion Means didn't want showing in his cellar."
She looked up at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
"You scare me, sometimes. That makes complete sense."
He laughed softly. “Yeah, babe, sometimes I can score a point. Now stop fondling me and help me look for clues.” He patted her rump.
They examined the stonework top to bottom, moving left to right. They reached the southeast corner and still had found nothing. Courtney stood, arms crossed, staring at the wall.
"Turn off the lights."
He went up the stairs, found the pull chain to the light, and tugged on it. He turned off his flashlight. Courtney moved to the center of the wall where the shadows were deepest. He moved to stand behind her.
She shook her head. “I still don't see anything. And even if I did, how would they get this wall to move?"
"Pull the book?” he teased.
"That's for a library. All the really great detectives know that."
"Okay, let's cut to the chase. I have a tape measure. Why don't we measure the outside of the house and then measure the basement?"
"Some treasure hunter you are. They never do that in the movies.” She poked her index finger near his belly button.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs, back into the sunlight. They measured the house, not being too exact. A few inches would not matter. They were looking for a few feet. Back in the basement, Courtney whooped with delight.
"You were right! That's four feet! There is something behind that wall!” She hugged him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Go get a pick or something."
"Whoa, Nellie. Slow the train down. I'm not going to start tearing down foundation walls without some precautions."
"But..."
"But nothing. I'll get a long masonry bit for my drill and I'll drill a little hole. Then we'll take the next step, whatever that may be."
"Okay. You're right. Go get your drill."
"Tomorrow, babe. I have to go to the home improvement center and get the proper drill bit first."
He knew it was a mistake as soon as he said it. Her eyes lit with a feral gleam. Her entire demeanor changed. He could see the gatherer instincts of females, passed down through the generations for ages untold, awaken and focus her energy to one task.
They were going shopping.
Chapter 20
Courtney woke with a familiar ache in her back. This time she was glad of it. She pulled her knees tight to her chest, stretching her lower spine as far as she could. Barry stirred behind her, bringing his knees up to follow hers. She relaxed against him.
He shifted, fitting his hips firmly to her bottom. His normal morning erection poked her rather pleasantly. She tipped her pelvis and he slipped into her.
He jerked away, struggling to prop up on an elbow. He looked at her, dazed and blinking sleep out of his eyes. She pushed her hips back to his in invitation.
"It's really okay. Trust me, Barry."
He collapsed onto the pillows, mumbling.
"What?” She couldn't discern what he'd said.
"I said ‘good morning to you, too'."
It could be if he'd finish waking up. She told him that. He responded by pulling her against him and poking her again. She laughed softly and tipped her hips again. He slid into her.
"This is a bad idea, Courtney.” He stroked into her.
"No, I really don't think it is.” She twisted to look at him. “I have the definite feeling that tomorrow morning it would be, though."
He stilled, regarding her silently for the space of several long moments before wrapping his arms tightly around her. She closed her eyes and floated on his slow, rocking rhythm. His lips caressed her neck and shoulder with soft kisses.
How long she floated in the peaceful darkness, she didn't know. His gentle movements carried her to a place where the only thing she knew was the warmness of his embrace. Her passion suddenly sparked. Her inner walls rippled around his shaft. He drew a s
harp breath and slipped his fingers into her secret folds. She gave herself over to him and the unhurried spiraling pleasure.
She came in slow waves, acutely aware of each tingling pulse of her flesh, each slow ripple of pleasure along his length. The sensations receded, a slow, outbound tide that left her limp and boneless in his arms. She sighed, a long sound of contentment.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He shifted his weight forward, thrusting into her with sudden urgency. His skin flushed hot where they touched. Her name was a groan on his lips as he tensed. Scalding wet heat filled her, then he stilled.
He made no move to leave her, not that she wanted him to. She could feel his heartbeat slowing, hear his breathing returning to normal. He kissed her shoulder.
"Wake me up like this every morning for the rest of our lives, Courtney."
Her heart plunged, then started pounding. Was he serious? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Was that a proposal?
"I may not wake up in such a good mood every morning, Barry. Then where would you be?"
"Then it would be my job to improve your mood."
Oh, God. Now what was she supposed to do?
"You'd better wake up with me a few more times before you make any sort of a bargain that's more than you bargained for.” He might not sense the imminent mood swing, but she did. It was slowly forming, coiling into an unpleasant, ever tightening screw behind her left ear. No amount of massage or aspirin could ease it.
He snorted and hugged her. “Don't panic, babe. Spending the rest of my life with you is a good bargain, any way I look at it.” He rolled away from her. She mourned the sudden loss of their physical connection.
"I'll go down and get our coffee. You can have the bathroom first."
She nodded. Getting a second bathroom installed and working was her second priority for the Victorian. She was in her robe with all her more enticing body parts neatly out of view when he returned with two mugs. She accepted hers with thanks.
"So when are you drilling your test hole in the wall?"
Barry stared balefully at her through the steam rising from his coffee.
Under A Painted Moon Page 14