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Wild & Hexy

Page 13

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  Dorcas wasn’t surprised to see Lucy at Click-or-Treat. She was president of the Big Knob Historical Society, which had recently bought the house next to the café and planned to use it as a museum. According to town legend, the house was built on the same site as the homestead owned by Isadora and Ebenezer. Isadora had, of course, burned the original house to the ground, although no one except Dorcas and now Ambrose knew that.

  Having the historical society headquartered in that historical location obviously thrilled Lucy. Then there was the added benefit of being close to her son’s apartment and place of business. She could pop over and see him whenever she wanted to. Except this afternoon, judging from the way she was banging on the door and peering inside, the program didn’t seem to be working for her.

  ‘‘Hi, Lucy,’’ Dorcas called out. ‘‘Anything wrong?’’

  ‘‘I hope not.’’ Lucy rattled the door a few times. ‘‘Jeremy never closes the café this time of day. His Suzuki’s parked around back, so he hasn’t gone far.’’

  ‘‘Maybe he’s on some kind of errand for the wedding. ’’ Dorcas had a hunch something more intimate was going on, especially after glancing up to the second floor and noticing the blinds down, but she wasn’t going to suggest that to Lucy.

  ‘‘That’s just it,’’ Lucy said. ‘‘Bruce called me because he was trying to reach Jeremy—something about the bachelor party tonight. He’s not at the Big Knobian, and Sean has no idea where he might be, either. I’ve tried a few other places, but I can’t find him.’’

  Dorcas’s theory gained momentum. If Jeremy was upstairs with Annie, then the last thing he needed was his mother interrupting. ‘‘Did you try his cell?’’

  ‘‘Yes, and he’s turned it off. That is so not like him.’’ Lucy faced them, her forehead creased with worry. ‘‘I just need to know he’s okay. I realize he’s young and healthy, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have fallen on the stairs and knocked himself out. I can’t be sure, but I think I heard someone groaning.’’

  Dorcas bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The groaning clinched it. Jeremy and Annie were upstairs having an afternoon delight. His mother, who couldn’t imagine her son involved in such a thing, thought he might be dying.

  Glancing at her husband, Dorcas could tell that he’d come to the same conclusion about the encounter going on upstairs. But of course they’d be able to figure it out. They had prior knowledge of the relationship developing between Jeremy and Annie. Apparently the gossip hadn’t reached Lucy yet.

  Time to remedy that. Dorcas turned to Ambrose. ‘‘Will you excuse us a minute? We have some girl talk to take care of.’’

  ‘‘Sure thing.’’ Ambrose wandered down the street and stood in front of the old clapboard house that now belonged to the historical society. He pretended great interest in the plaque next to the front door.

  Dorcas gazed at Lucy. ‘‘I’m sure your son’s fine,’’ she said. Then she proceeded to give Lucy a G-rated version of Jeremy’s recent activities.

  Jeremy had vaguely heard someone banging on the door downstairs, but a guy in the middle of a much-needed climax could be forgiven for ignoring it. Bracing himself above Annie, he gazed into her flushed face and felt a rush of gratitude. There was another emotion coming in the wake of that gratitude, but he wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet. He might never acknowledge it, because once he did, his life would never be the same.

  Annie’s chest heaved as she struggled for breath. He was gasping, too, but so happy. So very, very happy. This woman made him feel like a stud, and he would always cherish that.

  She sighed, and it was a wonderful sound. ‘‘That was fantastic. I can’t even tell you how fantastic.’’

  ‘‘I’m glad.’’ He could look at her forever. ‘‘It was great for me, too.’’

  ‘‘I could tell.’’ She smiled. ‘‘You groaned really loud.’’ She reached up and brushed the hair back from his forehead. ‘‘Someone’s banging on the door downstairs.’’

  ‘‘I know. I’m trying to ignore it.’’

  She started to laugh, which gave him all sorts of interesting sensations where he was still buried deep within her. He leaned down and nuzzled her ear, nipping at the lobe and the pearl earring decorating it. ‘‘What’s so funny?’’

  ‘‘You’ve lived in this town all your life, and you think you can ignore someone pounding at the door of your business. Even I, who have been away for several years, know you can’t do that. Is your truck parked in back?’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’ He hadn’t thought about his truck. Then again, he hadn’t thought about much of anything except shutting down the café and getting Annie upstairs and out of her clothes.

  ‘‘You’d better check and see who’s trying to get in.’’ She wiggled against him and kneaded his butt.

  ‘‘I like it right here.’’

  ‘‘I understand that, but you have responsibilities to your customers.’’ She pinched him gently. ‘‘I don’t want to be responsible for you going belly-up.’’

  ‘‘If I do, can we try it with you on top?’’

  She was still laughing, but she gave him a harder pinch. ‘‘Go. Find out who wants you. Besides me.’’

  He loved hearing her talk like that. She might be stroking his ego. She would probably still leave on Sunday. But for now, at this very minute, she wanted him. That was something.

  Reluctantly he eased off the bed, detoured to the bathroom to take care of the condom, and walked back to the window. By lifting one of the wooden slats, he could see down to the street below. There stood his mother. Even worse, she was talking to Dorcas Lowell. He didn’t have to think very hard to know what they were discussing.

  Just then his mother glanced up at the window and waved. He allowed himself one pithy swear word and let go of the slat.

  ‘‘Must not be good news,’’ Annie said. ‘‘Who’s out there?’’

  ‘‘My worst nightmare.’’

  ‘‘What do you mean?’’

  Jeremy searched for the clothes he’d tossed on the floor with such joyful abandon not long ago. ‘‘The person who was banging on the door is my mother.’’

  ‘‘Oh.’’ Annie swung her feet over the edge of the bed. ‘‘Then maybe I’d better stay up here until she leaves. You could make up some story about needing to take a nap, or—’’

  ‘‘Not gonna fly. Dorcas Lowell is down there, too, and they’re having a cozy conversation.’’

  ‘‘So what?’’

  Jeremy pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it into his jeans. ‘‘The thing I didn’t tell you about Dorcas and Ambrose is that they run a sort of matchmaking business in town.’’

  ‘‘Matchmaking? That sounds so old-fashioned.’’

  ‘‘I know it’s weird, and there aren’t that many matches to make in a place this size, so they do marriage counseling, too.’’

  ‘‘Have they actually made any matches here?’’

  ‘‘Just one that I know of. Sean and Maggie.’’ He glanced at her and his heart nearly stopped at how beautiful she looked sitting there naked on his bed. But she wasn’t smiling.

  ‘‘I’m beginning to put this together. They give you wine and teach you magic, both of which have a positive effect on me. Are they trying to match us up?’’

  ‘‘No!’’ At least Jeremy didn’t think so. He wasn’t positive that they weren’t working some undercover operation even though he’d told them he didn’t want their services. After all, he had taken the wine and a little advice.

  ‘‘Are you sure?’’

  Jeremy sighed. This could become such a disaster. ‘‘They know I’m interested in you, but I told them I didn’t want any matchmaking.’’

  ‘‘Just some magic and a bottle of wine.’’

  He didn’t like the wary look in her eyes, and didn’t think he deserved it, either. ‘‘Look, I told you straight out I wanted you. I was willing to take any help I could get along those lines. But that’s not t
he same as matchmaking. Matchmaking is where you try to get two people to the altar, and that’s not my goal.’’

  ‘‘That’s good, because I have zero interest in marrying anyone.’’ She climbed off the bed and located her panties and slacks. ‘‘Been there, done that.’’

  He knew she felt that way, yet it still hurt to hear her say so. ‘‘I get that you aren’t interested in anything serious. We just happen to click sexually.’’

  ‘‘Yes, we do.’’ Her voice softened. ‘‘And I appreciate that more than you know. I just wonder how we’re supposed to play this with your mother.’’

  ‘‘It won’t be easy. She was very disappointed when Gwen and I broke up. I thought when my sister had a baby that would take some of the pressure off me, but it hasn’t. Now that my mom knows what having a grandkid is like, she wants a bunch more.’’

  Annie nodded as she pulled on her slacks. ‘‘My mom doesn’t complain, but I’m sure it’s killing her that Melody’s moving all the way to Honolulu. Even if she and Bruce have kids, they won’t be close by. So I’m her only hope.’’

  ‘‘So once the word’s out that we’re involved, the campaign will begin.’’ Jeremy didn’t hate the idea, but he could tell Annie did. So he said what he had to. ‘‘We could say we had a big fight, and then stay away from each other for the rest of the week.’’

  She fastened her slacks and stood there, topless and tempting. ‘‘It’s a thought, but that could mean bad juju for the wedding. The matron of honor and best man are supposed to be friendly.’’

  Jeremy allowed himself a few seconds to admire her, maybe for the last time. ‘‘We’ve certainly fulfilled that requirement.’’

  ‘‘Mm.’’ Her gaze warmed under his hot appraisal.

  He groaned softly. ‘‘I’d better go get your bra and sweater. The longer we stay up here, the worse the implication.’’ Turning away with reluctance, he hurried through the apartment and down the first flight of stairs.

  Her black bra and dark blue sweater lay on the landing in mute testament to the frenzy with which he’d pulled them off. He could have finished the job and made love to her right there on the landing, no problem. Correction, that would have caused a huge problem. He’d always been careful about birth control, but in this case he had to be scrupulous.

  Then again, he might not have to worry about the issue ever again with Annie. Now that his mother, and likely half the town, would try to pair him up with Annie, she wouldn’t want to have anything more to do with him. Maybe they wouldn’t concoct an actual fight, but the effect would be the same—no more sex.

  Grabbing the bra and sweater, he jogged back up the stairs and walked into the bedroom to find her peeking through the blinds.

  ‘‘They’re gone,’’ she said.

  ‘‘You’re kidding.’’ He walked over beside her and looked down to the street. No one was standing there. ‘‘That’s amazing. I would have thought Mom wouldn’t be able to resist putting me on the spot.’’

  Annie let the slats fall back into place and turned to him. ‘‘Maybe she has something more subtle in mind.’’

  ‘‘It’s possible.’’ Jeremy picked up his cell phone from the bedside table where he’d laid it before taking off his jeans. Flipping it open, he turned it back on.

  Sure enough, there were messages, one from Bruce and two from his mother. He watched Annie hook her bra as he listened. What he wouldn’t give to be allowed to watch her dress every day. Boy, was he a dreamer.

  The message from Bruce was about whether Jeremy had arranged for any sexy entertainment for the bachelor party. He had. The belly dancer driving over from Evansville was a surprise that only Jeremy knew about.

  As Annie pulled the blue sweater over her head, he listened to the first message from his mother, an earlier call asking where he was. The second one had been made two minutes ago. And it contained a bribe.

  Jeremy glanced at Annie, who was running her fingers through her tousled hair. ‘‘I guess you’ve mentioned to a few people that you’d like to interview Clem Loudermilk about his bra invention.’’

  ‘‘I did. I left a couple of messages on the Loudermilks’ answering machine, but they didn’t call back, so I talked to some other people to see if anyone could intercede for me. It would be a great interview.’’

  ‘‘Looks like you can have that interview. My mother’s tentatively set it up for Friday morning, if that works.’’

  ‘‘Oh, it works. That would make a great piece for my last story in the series.’’ The wary look was back in Annie’s eyes. ‘‘What’s the catch?’’

  ‘‘She wants us to come to dinner Thursday night. I have the distinct impression if we don’t cooperate, the interview might somehow go away.’’

  Chapter 12

  "Here you go. Forty penises." Jeremy kept his voice down as he set a ten-by-twelve manila envelope next to the terminal where Annie was working. There were teenagers all around them surfing the Internet.

  Annie was typing frantically to make up for lost time, but she couldn’t resist taking a minute to tease him. ‘‘Couldn’t fit them in a five-by-seven?’’

  ‘‘I thought the ladies should get a thrill.’’

  ‘‘Or a laugh.’’

  ‘‘Don’t mock the help.’’

  She grinned and glanced up at him. ‘‘I really appreciate this, Jeremy.’’

  ‘‘My pleasure.’’ His gaze lingered, and the longer he looked at her, the hotter the fire in those gray eyes. He lowered his voice and braced a hand on the desk so he could lean closer. ‘‘Thanks for accepting my mom’s dinner invitation. It was blatant manipulation on her part.’’

  ‘‘It was, but that’s okay. If I were a mom, I’d want to find out the intentions of a woman who tempted my son into closing his business in the middle of the day.’’

  Jeremy looked rueful. ‘‘Sometimes small-town living sucks.’’

  ‘‘So move.’’ She tossed it out lightly, like a joke, but it wasn’t really a joke. She wondered if he’d ever considered it. That could make a huge difference in how their relationship turned out.

  He held her gaze, as if he understood exactly what she was asking. ‘‘This will probably sound dopey, but living here just feels right to me. When I was at Purdue getting my degree, I couldn’t wait to get back to this crazy little town with all its faults. It’s my home.’’

  She nodded. ‘‘I respect that, Jeremy.’’ She hesitated, then finally decided it needed to be said. ‘‘Your folks do understand that I’m going back to Chicago on Sunday, right?’’

  ‘‘I’ll make sure they do. And as for that dinner, don’t worry about it. I promise they won’t get out the shotgun.’’

  Annie laughed. Then she lowered her voice. ‘‘And you’ll go back out to the lake with me afterward so we can try and catch another glimpse of the monster, right?’’

  ‘‘Sure. There’s no monster, but I’ll go with you.’’

  ‘‘Good. And no wine. I don’t want to take a chance on missing it, so no hanky-panky, either.’’

  ‘‘If you say so.’’

  ‘‘I do.’’ She wasn’t planning to make out with him this time. Never mind that at this very moment his body heat and the scent of his aftershave made her squirm in her chair.

  Tomorrow night she’d be strong. She had a potential story that could make her career and she couldn’t take a chance she’d be canoodling with Jeremy when the lake monster appeared.

  Of course, the whole town would think she’d gone to the lake with Jeremy so they could make out. That wasn’t a bad cover for her investigation, come to think of it.

  ‘‘By the way,’’ Jeremy said, ‘‘I’ve sent one of the kids over to the deli for six feet of butcher paper. And no, he doesn’t know what the project is I’m working on. But even if he did, he wouldn’t be shocked. Kids know a lot more than we did at that age.’’

  ‘‘I’m sure.’’

  He straightened. ‘‘I’ll bring you coffee and a cookie.�
��’

  ‘‘Yes on the coffee. No on the cookie.’’

  Jeremy frowned. ‘‘Annie, you are not f—’’

  ‘‘I’m not skinny, either. I would love for my dress to hang on me by Saturday.’’

  With a little growl of frustration, Jeremy left to get her coffee. She couldn’t expect him to understand. For whatever reason, he found her sexy the way she was.

  That was gratifying for the time being, but she wanted to get back to her fighting weight, needed to be able to look at herself in the mirror without wincing. Back in Chicago she had an entire wardrobe that taunted her with her former measurements. She would wear those clothes again or know the reason why.

  Five hours later Annie was blindfolded, dizzy and holding a nine-inch penis.

  ‘‘To the left!’’ Gwen shouted.

  ‘‘More to the left!’’ called Heather Tufts, a well-endowed former classmate who clerked at the Big Knob Hardware store now.

  ‘‘Go straight ahead,’’ said Maggie. She’d taken charge of the pin-the-penis-on-the-man game.

  Definitely feeling her two cups of vodka punch, Annie lunged forward and stuck the taped end of the penis somewhere on the butcher paper. As everyone whistled and clapped, she lifted the blindfold and discovered she’d been dead on.

  ‘‘When you’re getting it regular, you know exactly where it goes,’’ said Isabel Moore, the newcomer from San Francisco. Dorcas Lowell had brought Isabel to the party and seemed to be keeping an eye on her.

  From the moment Annie had met Isabel at Mayor Abe’s house, she’d felt as if she should know her. Something about Isabel tickled Annie’s memory, but she couldn’t come up with what it was.

  Melody held up her paper penis. She’d had at least three cups of punch and Melody never could hold her liquor. ‘‘I want to know, since Annie made these, if it’s a representation of just what she’s been getting. If so, I’m trading Bruce for Jeremy.’’

  ‘‘How can it be a representation?’’ Annie said. ‘‘It may be long, but boy, is it flat.’’ She’d given up protesting that nothing was going on between her and Jeremy. Everyone at the party seemed to know they’d been together at the lake last night and alone in his apartment this afternoon.

 

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