"None of us saw a cat."
Her head turned back to the window and she had caught her bottom lip with her teeth.
"Maybe he was just scared," she said softly.
He placed his hand on her arm. "I'll take another look for him and then get one of your neighbors to take care of him. Okay?"
He watched her nod as she distractedly placed her hand over his and patted it.
Ram saw that the front door had already been repaired and he pressed the buzzer for apartment one, knowing that Marianne hadn't brought her keys.
Hadn't brought her shoes.
Just that weird oversized robe and whatever she had on beneath it.
He swallowed thickly as his mind imagined all sorts of wonderful things she could have on underneath.
Or what she might not have on at all.
No answer from apartment one, so he tried apartment three.
She had looked beautiful in his kameez last night, just as he knew she would. And while it may seem strange, he loved that she wore the top, and he the salwar, the bottoms of the set. It had made him feel connected to her somehow.
Ram was buzzed in by Sara in Apartment Three.
"Hey, Chief!" she yelled from the top of the stairs.
"Just here to get some stuff for Marianne," he explained. "Sara, have you seen Marianne's cat? He saw that the door to MG's apartment had the crime scene tape on it, but it was at least closed.
"You mean Floyd?"
"Yeah."
"No, I haven't. He wasn't in her apartment?"
"We're still looking for him."
"I'll get the word out."
"Thanks, Sara."
He ducked and went into the apartment, turning on lights as he went.
It was still hard to look around at such destruction, he hoped detectives Tim Bell and his partner, Jeff Trusdale could get everything wrapped up quickly. When Ram had spoken with them earlier they said it might take awhile for the results from the lab to come back but, they were still actively working the case.
It was a shame that their town had to share a lab with Cortez but from a budget point of view, it made sense. Still, it was hell to have to wait so long for the results.
It didn't take long to gather up the items she needed but he didn't find the cat and he looked through the one bedroom apartment thoroughly, even under the furniture.
When he was leaving, he saw that the initial area on the floor next to Marianne's front door had several envelopes and a Fed Ex envelope scattered around. He shoved them into one of the plastic bags he was taking out.
The truck was warm and the air inside had taken on the scent of Marianne as he handed her the carrier bags that he had shoved her stuff in.
"I didn't see the cat," he said folding his long length into the seat.
She raised her head at his words and glanced back at the building. "I'll call Julie and have her get the word out."
"But I did see envelopes all over your floor that I didn't see last night."
Marianne stopped her rummaging through the bags and glanced at him. "Oh. It's what the girls and I do. When one of us checks the mail, we sort it and shove the letters and stuff under each other's door."
"Did I get what you needed?" he asked softly putting the truck into gear.
"Yeah, Ram, you did. Thanks."
He just nodded as he drove, taking the long way back to her aunt's house. He was about two blocks away, though, when he pulled the truck over and shifted into Park.
Marianne looked out her side window then glanced at him.
He cut her off before she had a chance to speak.
"I want to kiss you again," he said softly. "And I would prefer not to have an audience."
Marianne's mouth, that he was sure had initially opened to ask him why they had stopped, now reshaped itself into an 'O' and her eyebrows were raised.
Ram reached over and undid her seatbelt and the release of it, released Marianne from her stillness. She was up on her knees in the seat and leaning over the console before he even had time to move back.
He felt her tug on the open edges of his jacket, pulling him towards her.
No.
Last night she had initiated it.
Tonight, it was his turn.
He released his seatbelt with one hand as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her over the console until she was on his lap.
Which again surprised her, if he was reading her expression correctly.
He brought his head down as he softly instructed, "Slow, Pyari."
And his mouth dropped to hers.
Kissing her the way he wanted to, with a slowness and thoroughness that was no less exciting than what they shared last night, building the same fire but doing it slowly. Which he could tell from her wiggles and her mewls was driving her crazy.
Or maybe she was just reacting to not being in control.
Because from what Ram had seen, Miss Marianne Gibson liked to be in charge of just about every situation.
*.*.*.*.*
I have never, ever in my life been kissed like that.
Ever.
And I started kissing boys in sixth grade.
So I have experience with this subject and, not to blow my own horn, I'm pretty good at it.
But Ram's kiss.
Holy shit.
It wasn't just a bunch of little kisses with some tongue action.
Oh, dear God, no.
First of all, I was sitting on his lap.
His lap.
He just picked me up and placed me in his lap as he wrapped his arms around me, one at my waist so that I was tight against him and the other fisted in my hair.
In my hair.
To point my face up to his.
As he devoured my mouth.
No other way to say it.
Ram Patel devoured my mouth.
His lips moved slowly but with firm, wet pressure over mine, sucking at my lips as his slick tongue licked at the seam, the second time in successive nights.
Oh, hell.
Yeah.
He swallowed my groan as I opened my mouth to him the tiniest bit and his tongue plundered, his head slanting to get closer, get wetly deeper.
And it just never seemed to stop.
It went on forever.
Dear God.
For-freaking-ever.
I had never been this turned on before.
From just a kiss.
No. Not just a kiss.
But his kiss.
And he never, ever let me move anything except my mouth, my tongue.
I was pressed hard to his chest, my nipples grinding against him providing such a delicious friction.
I've mentioned that I wanted this man, right?
Okay.
Now the ante was raised.
I now needed this man.
Needed in a bone marrow kind of way.
And just when I thought I couldn't take anymore, he stopped. Completely stopped.
And raised his mouth from mine.
Oh, hello?
Hot woman, turned on to the max, sitting right in your lap.
And you're stopping?
You're, like, kidding, right?
Which he totally probably saw because like I'm so not a poker player.
And this is where I totally lost it.
Ram, as his head raised up from mine, eyes opened and staring straight into my eyes, took his thumb and dragged it through the wetness on my bottom lip.
Holy shit.
While looking into my eyes the whole freaking time.
I don't know 'bout you if you'd be in this situation, but I ended up looking up at this amazing guy, who smelled unbelievably wonderful, who kissed me like it was a religious experience and then had dragged his thumb across my bottom lip and I was wondering which deity I'd made happy.
I couldn't breathe deep enough.
I could only stare, my blue to his brown.
"Wow," he said on a whisper.
/> "Uhm, yeah," I whispered back. "Wow."
There were a couple of beats before he placed me back into the passenger seat that I was supposed to have been sitting in the whole time.
And I was blinking slowly, remembering how his mouth felt against mine, when I probably should've been thinking about public safety and put my seat belt on. But, luckily he did it. And it was the click that brought me back to the here and now.
I don't remember the two block ride to the house, mainly because I don't think my brain was receiving any blood at all--it was pounding through my body, though.
Ram once again, carried me back into the house where he wished me and Aunt Estella a good evening before leaving.
All I could do was stand there in my pretty new nightgown and my borrowed, oversized robe and blink.
Chapter Six
It wasn't a bad week, as weeks can be when you're knee deep in tax returns.
Just a busy one. Busy, as in you're doing chair wiggles until there's a pause in the clients, then you can go to the bathroom.
It didn't help that I had what I call 'Ram-Brain'. I had to keep a firm grip on my thoughts, on what I was supposed to be doing, otherwise my mind would go straight back to that kiss.
That amazing kiss.
The kiss that was seared into my brain.
And when my mind would wander back to it, my eyes would glaze over and I got a stupid little grin.
How do I know how I looked when I was in the midst of Ram-Brain?
Teresa, my co-worker, made kind of a big deal about it as we were leaving one evening.
"Earth to Marianne, come in Marianne," she called over the cubicle wall.
"I'm here," I mumbled, sorting the papers on my desk so I knew what I wanted to do first thing tomorrow. "What can I do you for?"
"You just seem distracted. What do you have going on that is causing that silly little grin while you mentally check out?" I glanced up and saw Teresa smiling as she leaned against the cubicle wall. She was great to work with, breaking up the day with her teasing and laughter.
"Just a lot on my mind. But enough about me, how'd your day go?"
"Uh-uh, can't change the subject, Gibson. Spill!"
"No really. I have a lot on my mind with my apartment and Floyd still hasn't come home. Staying with Aunt Estella is a bit different and…"
Teresa held her hands up in surrender. "Okay, I got it. I just thought you had a man on your mind. Like that tall drink of water you were with the other night at Luigi's."
"Paul? Uh, no. We're friends."
"Uh-huh. I hold hands with my friends when we go to dinner, too. "
I just looked at her with my eyebrows raised.
"Just kidding!"
I laughed along with her but my laugh sounded a bit hollow.
I gathered the rest of my things as I called good night to the other accountants I worked with.
This time of year, our hours were killer since we had to meet with clients and do all the paperwork and computer entries either before the clients got there or after seven p.m. when we locked the door. Or, as I mentioned, the weekends.
I made my way back to Aunt Estella's since I still wasn't allowed in my apartment. Floyd still hadn't turned up. I had used my lunch break to call the insurance company that held my renter's policy and they said they would send an adjuster out, which was good. But they couldn't send him out until the police said it was okay to enter.
Geesh.
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Only 8 p.m. Which meant I couldn't find an easy excuse not to go out with Paul tonight. It was supposed to be just for dinner, so I could go casual but I didn't have any casual clothes. I had three outfits I had purchased, and the dress I'd worn to Cait and Jake's party but they were a bit dressy, too business-like.
Sigh.
I made it to Aunt Estella's and was able to take a quick shower and redo my hair and makeup before making my way downstairs to see Paul flirting with my aunt.
Incorrigible.
He even chatted up the Seniors.
"Wow, baby, you look wonderful," Paul said when I made my way into the front room.
"Mari, that dress is wonderful with your coloring," Aunt Estella offered with both hands on her cheeks. I knew from experience that was her way of controlling her blushes.
"I don't know, Paul. Maybe you should be taking Estella out instead," I teased.
"Mari!"
"Just saying."
"I'd love to, but I think Estella's heart is elsewhere. I'd probably just crash and burn," Paul said with a smile and a wink to Estella. But his words hit me just a little too close to home with the 'heart is elsewhere' business.
"Ready, baby?"
"As I'll ever be. See you later, Auntie."
"Have fun you two."
Paul gave Auntie one of his killer smiles and I watched as the red crept back into her cheeks.
"You really do look great," Paul whispered as he opened the passenger door.
"Thanks, Paul. So do you."
And he did. He was wearing jeans with a t-shirt with a v-neck sweater paired with a blazer. Which, combined with his sandy good looks, made him look like a male model.
I felt a bit over-dressed in my rust colored, fitted sheathe that I'd paired with my brown ankle boots and gold jewelry. But, as Momma always said, better to be over-dressed than under.
"How's your week going?" Paul asked. And we chatted back and forth as we made our way to Luigi's, where we were seated right away. He was taken aback to hear about Floyd, whom Paul had met when he had picked me up at my apartment.
"I was surprised at you staying at Ram's, baby."
Oh geez.
First salvo launched.
"I was, too. But it made sense at the time because waking up my aunt wouldn't have been a good idea."
"You could have called me, Marianne." Wow, Paul actually used my name. He must still be upset about it.
"You're right. I could've. But it was late and I was shaken by the whole thing."
He didn't respond to that but was quiet, so I went on.
"Plus, Paul, you only have a one bedroom. So either one or the other of us would have been on the couch."
"It wouldn't have had to go that way. I have a big bed. Room enough for two."
Okay.
See?
There it is, right out there on the table.
Even if he did say it with a smile and Paul has a killer smile.
"Sure you do, Paul. But we both know that's not what I needed that night," I said smiling back as I sipped my red wine, trying to use the wine glass to block my expression.
"I don't know, baby. I've heard it's a great way to get rid of stress."
"I wish you wouldn't call me that."
"Call you what?"
"Uhm, baby. I don't like being called that."
"You don't like being called baby?"
"No, Paul, I really don't."
"Why didn't you say something before?"
"I did. The first time we went out."
"You did? "
"Yeah, I did."
I watched as Paul processed this as our dinners were served. He seemed a little bit more involved in our conversation, particularly my end of it, than he had the other couple of times we went out.
"So, baby's out. Any other names you'd prefer?" He really was gorgeous when he smiled like that and I could imagine that a fair number of Grantham women would give a body part to have that smile directed at them.
While I could enjoy it, it still didn't get my motor running.
"Get creative. You're the Detective." I giggled, I couldn't help it.
"I really like your laugh, Marianne," he said softly.
"And I really like your…uhm…ravioli!" I speared one of the mushroom ravioli squares from his plate.
His laughter was contagious and I saw that even the wait staff were grinning as they heard it. I was glad that I was able to divert a moment that might have morphed into an area I wasn't real
ly willing to explore with him.
Our plates were being cleared and I excused myself to go to the Ladies Room before we left. I had only been gone a few minutes when, on my way back out, I saw Paul talking with our waitress with his phone out. As I got closer to the table, I heard him say, "I'll give you a call, baby. Maybe we can do something later."
The waitress glanced up and realized I was standing behind the booth. She looked embarrassed although she had no reason to be. I was embarrassed and I didn't have any reason to be, either. So I smiled at her and got a tiny smile back.
Paul finally raised his eyes from his cellphone and saw the direction that his soon to be conquest was looking and turned towards me.
"Oh, hey. You about ready to go, ba...erm…Marianne?"
"You betcha." I said with a slight smile. I wasn't annoyed because Paul was, well, Paul but I also was not in the mood to discuss it. What kind of guy does that? Especially after the 'you could've called me' late night visit. Confusing behavior.
But my internal scoring system gave him points for curtailing the 'baby'.
Conversation was stilted on the way back to my aunt's house. I was tired. It had been a long day and while I enjoyed Paul's company, it just wasn't the same as with Ram. There just wasn't that electric connection between us like I got when I was with Ram.
But Ram had never asked me out. I know I'm repeating myself, which should show you that I really wanted him to ask me out!
Paul turned off the engine of his truck and turned to me.
"I'm going to take off, Marianne. I have a lot to do before I can turn in," he said.
Excuse me? It sounded like he thought I was going to invite him in.
"Thanks so much for dinner, Paul."
"Glad you liked it."
And I saw him lean towards me. Uh-oh. I think he wanted to kiss me. We had done that a couple of times and he was a good kisser. Firm, with a hint of wetness.
But he wasn't Ram.
Ram who, even when I remembered it, made my toes curl with his kiss.
I accepted Paul's kiss and I was right. He kissed good. It was…pleasant. But no full body shivers, no 'I can't think straight because all the blood has rushed out of my head and into my body'.
No spark.
I broke away from Paul's kiss and grabbed my purse.
"Marianne? Are you busy next week?" Paul said as I leaned back over to my side of his truck.
"I'm not sure yet. With all the stuff I've got going on…" I opened the door and stepped out. "Thanks again for tonight, Paul. Dinner was great."
Tap Dance (Dance Series) Page 4