Made in Heaven

by McGoldrick, May

  He slammed on the brakes at the corner, and then screeched into the traffic racing along Memorial Boulevard.

  “Sensitive subject, I see.”

  Evan growled and jerked the car into the left lane. As he stopped for a light, he glanced over at her. She was staring straight ahead. He wanted to strangle her and kiss her at the same time. There was something in this woman that just managed to melt him from the inside. He needed help.

  He turned and gave her a half glance as the traffic started again. Crouched against the door, rubbing her arms with her hands, she looked tired and a bit fragile.

  “Are you cold? I know there’s a sweatshirt in the back.”

  “No! Thanks, I’m fine!”

  Ignoring her, he reached behind them and handed her the gray sweatshirt.

  “Have you had anything solid to eat today?”

  There was a trace of a smile on her face when he looked over.

  “Do you always feel that you have to take care of everybody?”

  “What?” He didn’t answer, but then, following an impulse, he veered to the left and turned onto Lower Thames rather than heading back toward the house.

  “Where are you going?”

  “It’s a beautiful night. I thought before returning dear old Phil’s car back to him, we could take a ride out on Ocean Drive. How about it?”

  “Sounds wonderful,” she whispered quietly, watching the people on the sidewalks as they passed.

  They drove in silence for a few moments until the boutiques, museums, restaurants, and bars gave way to neighborhoods and then farms. As they passed the manicured fairways of the country club, the fresh, salt air felt even cooler as it washed over them. Again glancing at her direction, he felt a surge of raw desire ignite within him as he watched her tuck the sweatshirt around her, close her eyes, and lose herself to the feel of wind on her face and in her hair.

  “What did you mean by saying what you did back there? About me feeling that I have to take care of everybody?”

  “You asked me if I’d eaten today!” She pushed her glasses up on top of her head and turned those magical eyes of hers on him. “You were worried about me. As you worry about Jada and Baby Ted and their future. And about Mrs. Smith and her hip replacement. And about Grady and his bi-pass surgery. And about...”

  “Hold it there! Where are you getting all this stuff?”

  “Jada and I had plenty of opportunity to talk today! But that’s not even half of it. There seems to be this mysterious source of funds that happens to appear whenever anyone you know is in a need. This afternoon Jada called their insurance company, and then talked to accounting folks at the hospital. You know what? She found out that somehow all the deductibles and even some more costs had been taken care of. Isn’t that amazing?”

  “Her father must have taken care of everything before he left on his trip.”

  “Nice try! Like Ted, Sr. would pay for Mrs. Smith’s private nurse when she got home with the new hip!”

  “What’s the point of all this?”

  “You!” She gave him one of her enchanting smiles. “Seeing the way you help all these people, and knowing how little time you actually spend at your job, I’m convinced that you must be embezzling money somewhere and just haven’t been caught yet! Actually, the only thing missing in this picture is a band of merry men to help you steal from the rich before you give it to the poor. Now do I have it right, or do I have it right?”

  “Stealing from the...” He furrowed his brow. “Like Robin Hood or To Catch a Thief?”

  “Hmm! Definitely Robin Hood! Besides, you look more like Errol Flynn than Cary Grant.” She nodded with certainty. “No, this is no Sherwood Forest. This is absolutely To Catch a Thief with a plot twist. You’re certainly into helping others--much more than Cary Grant, if I remember the movie correctly.”

  He couldn’t hold back his own smile.

  “Ha! I’m close.” She straightened and leaned at his direction. “So let’s go back and correct the misperceptions. This is not Phil’s car, but yours. The house, as well, is yours, and you use him as a front to hide your operation. Now, the cab thing is a perfect ruse for you to get in past the high voltage fences and security gates around these mansions. I see you’re still smiling. I think I’m getting hot!”

  “You are really hot.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m not Grace Kelly, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “As a matter of fact, I have noticed,” he corrected, making a sharp turn into Brenton Point Park.

  Evan loved this part of Newport. Down here, with the long concrete seawall and the wide grassy stretch running beside it, a person could feel truly alive with the ocean crashing onto the rocks, and the wind buffeting one with the salty sprays. Coming here always brought him back to memories of his past. To the days of diving. To the nights of going ashore. To his love of the sea.

  His eyes spanned the open stretch of rocky shore. There were always people out here, day and night. Summer and winter. Never too many, but always a few. Fishermen, kite flyers, sunbathers, scuba divers...lovers. Pulling the car into a parking space overlooking the ocean, he shut off the engine and turned off the lights.

  “How beautiful!”

  He turned in his seat and looked at her awed expression. “Yes, you are!”

  Reaching over, he took her glasses off and placed them on the dash.

  Suddenly struck silent, she sat looking at him.

  “And you were saying?” he growled, running one hand through her wind blown hair. “About illicit activities?”

  “Are you armed?”

  He nodded. “And dangerous!”

  Evan watched her throat pulse as she tried to swallow.

  “What...what do you plan to do with me?” She quickly glanced at the direction of the waves rolling onto the dark rocks straight ahead. He could see her hiding the beginning of a smile. “I mean, now that I’ve discovered your deep dark secret.”

  “I think I’ll just have my way with you, and then get rid of the body.” He dug his fingers into the thick hair at the nape of her neck, holding her in place as he softly began to massage the tenseness from the muscles there. “Let me see. I’ll start with a kiss first...to catch you off guard.”

  Using his other hand, he traced her lips with the tips of his fingers, smiling as she parted them at his touch.

  “And after I’m done with the mouth, I’ll just strip off this very pretty shirt of yours.” With deliberate slowness, he pulled away the sweatshirt she’d draped over her. Then, with equally deliberate slowness, Evan ran the backs of his fingers down her throat, lingering over the little hollow at the base. He heard her breath catch as he brushed his hand against her breast. “How are you holding up so far?”

  Meg nodded vaguely.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, because you should really be suffering by now! Well, after I’ve disposed of your shirt, I’m tearing off the bra and throwing it away. They’re stupid things, anyway. And right after that, I’m going to work you out of these pants.”

  Running his thumb along the waistband of her pants, he smiled as she shuddered and closed her eyes. Gently, he slid his hand down into the juncture of her legs. With a low moan, she opened them ever so slightly.

  “Ah, this is good,” he whispered, massaging her through her pants. “But somehow I have to get myself over to your side of the car...without you escaping...so that I can force you to sit on my lap.”

  He hadn’t even kissed her yet, but her parted lips were full, ripe with desire. Her eyes had that dreamy, glazed look, and he knew he had the power to take her to a blissful release. He moved closer, his face hovering over hers, his fingers increasing the tempo as she began to move with him.

  “And then, when you think you can’t take any more, I’ll make you take me out of my pants and fit me inside of you. I’ll make you ride me, Meg. With the sea breeze blowing in your hair. With the damp sea air on your face. With my lips on your breasts, I’ll be sucking at your nipples. You�
�ll force me to fill you up until we’re both ready to explode.”

  “You’re a devil, Evan,” she panted, reaching out and gripping his arm. She moaned again. “Oh, my God...I can’t...”

  “Then don’t!” Quickly, he unfastened her pants and slid his fingers into the wet, pulsing folds of her womanhood. “Ride me, Meg! Ride me hard and let me see you fly.”

  Twisting and convulsing in his arms, Meg cried out in an explosion of ecstasy, and Evan smiled as she sank onto his shoulder, the after shocks of rapture still racking her trembling body.

  Lifting her gently, he dragged her across the center console and fitted her in the snug space on his lap. As she lay her head against his shoulder, he just held her tight. He could find no words to describe the feeling that suddenly filled his heart at having her curled up in his arms.

  “I must be the easiest woman you’ve ever met.”

  “No. But you may be the sexiest.”

  “I fall apart as soon as you touch me.”

  “You’re passionate! Beautiful! Full of life.” He lifted her chin until he could look into her dark eyes. “I can’t help myself, Meg. I just can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her mouth. She was a dream, just as he remembered her to be. All willing and soft and giving. For a second the thought came to his mind that if ever there was a woman that he could spend never-ending days with, it was this one.

  Evan put a quick end to their kiss as the lights of another car pulling into the park drew his attention. As Meg hurriedly scurried to her side, straightening her pants and grabbing for her glasses, he laughed out loud. She had the look of a teenager who had gotten caught in the back seat with the preacher’s son.

  He reached over and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I’m not done with you,” he growled. “And I still need to dispose of the body.”

  She gave him a shy and hesitant smile, but then sighed contentedly.

  The newcomers pulled into a space too close for Evan’s comfort, and he turned to glare at them.

  “They have the whole damn lot!”

  Starting the car, he pulled out, and in a minute the Mercedes was snaking along the dark curves of Ocean Drive.

  “You never did tell me if you had any dinner!”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “How about if we pick up some food and go back to my place and have a midnight picnic on the roof?” He knew from her smile that he didn’t have to be any more enticing than that.

  As they rode along, he realized it hurt to think how much he wanted her.

  “How about if you let me buy you dinner, this time?”

  He frowned at her.

  “Come on. It’s only fair.”

  She seemed determined.

  “Okay, as long as it’s ‘take out’!”

  “No way!”

  “Why not? I have chairs in my apartment. I’ll let you sit.”

  She shook her head. “Dinner, wine, candlelight...something a little bit formal!”

  “I can do that in the apartment! I’ll even be the waiter. White gloves and the whole bit, if you want.”

  Meg smiled mischievously. “Knowing you, you’ll probably wear white gloves and nothing else.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll wear them formally!” He placed his hand on her thigh. “We’ll set a new standard for formal dining. You undress me and I’ll undress you...except for the gloves, of course. Then, instead of utensils, we’ll use our fingers and feed each other.”

  Shyly, she reached over and ran her fingers along his leg until they reached the pronounced bulge in his jeans. The engine roared as he nearly ran right into the car in front of them.

  “I don’t know, Evan.” She gave a soft giggle. “Do you think you can last that long?”

  “Just try me. I dare you!”

  Her laugh thrilled him, and he grinned.

  “Do you want to skip the dinner part?”

  “Love to,” he replied with a meaningful look. “But you haven’t eaten, and La Forge is just ahead. We can order take out from the bar. Sound okay?”

  Hearing no immediate response, he turned and glanced at her again. Suddenly she looked deep in thought.

  “What’s the matter? If you don’t like La Forge, we could go someplace else.”

  She shook her head. “No...No, I’m just being silly. I used to go there all the time. I think I’ve been there every year since I started coming to Newport. It has great food.”

  “Good. But I’m not letting you buy this dinner. That place is too expensive. This is on me.”

  “No, it’s not,” she replied. “A deal is a deal. You provide the place...and the white glove service...and I provide the food.”

  He slapped the wheel with both hands. “Boy, I love pushy women!”

  It took Evan a couple times around the parking lot across the street before he found a parking space.

  Crossing Bellevue Avenue to the restaurant, Evan noticed Meg looking up at the “Casino,” the Tudoresque building that housed La Forge, a dozen little shops, and the Tennis Hall of Fame.

  “Interesting building. It was built by Stanford White, I think.”

  “They like to preserve the old here in Newport, don’t they?”

  “Only what’s worth saving,” he said, wrapping an arm around her as they reached the sidewalk. As a passerby approached, giving Meg the once-over, Evan glared at the over aged preppy in his docksiders and blue blazer. “And anything that’ll draw a tourist.”

  Inside, the place was crowded with people, most of them still waiting for a table in the restaurant, and the ancient teak bar was three deep with customers. Pushing through the throng, they made their way to the hostess and ordered dinners.

  “Do you want a drink?” he asked once their orders were in.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Good.” He said, keeping his face serious. “I want you sober--at least until we get to the apartment.”

  “Maybe I’d better get a double of something,” she replied with a smile.

  Pulling her back toward the door, Evan tucked Meg next to him, noticing that her smile quickly faded into a thoughtful, almost troubled, look.

  “Are you sure this place is okay? We can wait outside if you want.”

  She shook her head.

  He ran his knuckle on her soft cheek, and she looked up and met his gaze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She paused a moment before answering. “I guess I just have too many memories from this place.”

  “What kind of memories?”

  She looked back into the crowd. “My husband and I--” She stopped and cleared her throat. “When Robert was alive, we used to come to Newport every year, and this was one of the places we used to go out and eat. We always took out a table overlooking the grass tennis court and...”

  “Well, this was a great choice on my part, wasn’t it?”

  “It’s a good choice. I told you I was just being silly. That was all in the past.” She reached out and took his hand in hers. “Come on, let’s talk about now.”

  “Okay. Let’s see...”

  “Did you get a chance to write today?”

  “What are you, my agent?”

  “No!” She smiled. “Do you need one?”

  Damn! It would be so easy to give himself away. Maybe he should, Evan considered for a moment. But then he knew she would be angry for the way he let her rip Drew King apart to his face. And embarrassed. No, he decided, it would be much better to wait. For now, anyway.

  “Hell, no.”

  “Well, did you get anything done?”

  “I did. But I don’t think it’s any good.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “In fact, I think it’s all your fault. I used to be able to sit and write for hours without ever doubting anything I wrote.”

  “Really?” she replied, amazement in her voice.

  “Yes, I did! But now, after talking to you, I’m not sure anymore. I keep questioning myself. Doub
ting my judgment.”

  “I’m sorry!” she said thoughtfully, brightening immediately. “But--the things you used to write before--where they any good? Are you still happy with how they came out?”

  “Not all of it. A lot of it was shit!”

  “Well, that’s good, then!” She smiled warmly at him. “I guess, in a selfish way, I’m glad. See, now you’re the one who’s reaching for something more. A story that is perhaps better. Doesn’t that make you a better writer?”

  He leaned one shoulder against the wall. “I guess so. But what about all these newfound insecurities? What about all of the sudden feeling like I need a second opinion on what I write?”

  She paused a moment. “You need a critique partner. I’ve heard that a lot of writers have somebody they can talk to about...”

  “No way in hell!”

  “Okay. Maybe that’s not for everybody. But how about having someone who could just stay on your butt?”

  “Hey, I like the sound of that--as long as it’s you!”

  “I’m serious. I’m talking about somebody who could keep you to a daily routine--who can sometimes be a sounding board for you to bounce your ideas off of. You must know somebody.”

  “And this ‘somebody.’ You think I’d let them read my unfinished stuff and give me an honest opinion of whether they think it’s a pile of shit or not?”

  “Exactly!”

  He couldn’t stop a grin from creeping onto his face. “So, will you take the job?”

  Meg stared at him for a moment. “Sure. I’ll read your work if you want me to. But don’t get too used to it. Don’t forget, I’m heading back to Boston next week.”

  Evan had a vague sensation of that pubescent, teenage demon again taking possession of his soul. “I didn’t mean just for this week. I meant do you want this on a more permanent basis?”

  She looked at him in awe for an instant and then, as the meaning of his words sank in, he saw her become visibly flustered. But how could he blame her? Just what in hell was he saying, anyhow?

  “I wasn’t suggesting all those things because I was fishing for work!”