That irritating man, I spend all my time thinking about him. Well, I guess that’s the definition of irritating :D
But I’m happy to know you like me, Prez. Hey, you tolerate my awful computer jokes — we must be made for each other :)
— ED
Back at the cabin, Everett disappeared into the bedroom and emerged minutes later, hair neatly tied back, black sweater obscuring his powerful torso, baggy slacks civilizing his muscular legs.
Edie looked up from her magazine. “I liked you better the other way. You’re going to get that nice outfit messy cleaning the rabbits.”
He threw a flannel shirt on over his sweater. “I suppose it’s too much to ask you to clean them?”
“I’ll cook, Everett, but you have to do the Tarzan stuff.”
“Ha. I get to be Tarzan after all.” Everett rolled up his sleeves, fished a knife and meat cleaver out of the drawers and spread newspaper on the table.
“As long as you don’t yodel.”
“Killjoy.” He sat down with the first carcass. “By the way. This is game, so if you’re cooking, make sure to cook it well. Don’t want to get — ”
“Tularemia?”
He looked up in surprise. “You like this wilderness thing, then?”
“Well, yes. It’s so different from civilization.” Edie set the magazine aside and watched his hands, competent, efficient. “This is life or death. Exciting. Dangerous.”
“What if I told you HHE is more dangerous than any wilderness?”
“I’d ask what hallucinogen you’re on. And if you could get me some.”
“Think about it. Clients are the prey the company has to hunt to survive.” Gestures with his knife punctuated his remarks. “Corporate infighting determines pecking order, like a wolf pack. Sometimes survival itself is threatened.”
“No way. Suits, ties and pantyhose are not wild kingdom.”
“I disagree. Corporate politics are more savage than any horror of Mother Nature’s. Howell Senior hired me to supplant his own son. What sire in nature would bring in an outsider to lead the pack? And then there’s Bethany. Why do you think she’s having an affair with Howell?”
“Because they’re two of a kind?”
“Think stallion.”
Edie blushed.
“Bethany wants power.” Everett started filleting. “In addition to her own position, being Howell’s lover confers power on her. Like a lead mare.”
“That’s awfully sexist. And I still don’t buy it. What about your hand-tailored shirts and Italian shoes? Those are pure civilization.”
“Are they? How does nature protect the puffer fish? Why dapple the coat of a fawn?”
She gaped at him. “You’re saying power ties and gold watches are protective coloration?”
“Exactly.” He dumped the meat into the pot, washed his hands. “Screaming to the competition, ‘I’m bigger and I’m stronger. Don’t mess with me.’”
“Then the man I see at the office, he’s not you at all?”
“Oh, he’s part me. But not, I think, the best part. That’s you.” He came to her and took her face between clean palms. “You’re the part that fights for the employee and tells the truth no matter how damning. The part that doesn’t play corporate games, the part that has big brown eyes to live in and sweet soft lips to die in … ” He bent his head and kissed her.
His mouth teased, tasted. Warmth stole over her like hot mulled wine, tingling down her throat, pooling in her belly. His tongue touched her lips, slid between. Eagerness flared and she pressed into him. He deepened the kiss, fingers tangling in her hair.
When she was dazed and panting, he lifted his head. “Edie, my fireball. You’re the one who both civilizes me and makes me wild.” His fingers drifted lightly over her face, her neck, his touch like velvet. “You can stop me any time, you know.”
“Not happening.” She wrapped herself around him and pulled, toppling them both onto the couch. While she could still think, she freed his hair.
Her fingers ran through raw silk, reveling in untamed length. She curled strands in her fingers and pulled his head to her, kissing him hungrily. He groaned and opened his mouth on her and they kissed each other, give and take, tongues tumbling and teeth nipping.
His hands skimmed her breasts, thumbing her nipples through cloth. She shivered. Her need spoke through her hands, urging his head down her body.
He shoved her sweater and bra up, baring her breasts. His warm lips found her nipple and suckled. She arched against the couch, gasping with her ripening desire.
“Soon, sweetheart.” He laved her nipple, and then gave equal attention to the other until both her breasts were throbbing and tight. Her fingers dug so deep in the silk of his hair that she thought she might be attached to him forever, wrapped in deliciously warm, seductive strands, wrapped in Everett … the idea didn’t scare her as much as it should have.
He kissed a warm trail down her middle. Sparkles followed. His hair slid from her hands; she clutched the couch instead.
As he went, he pulled off her doubled pants and underwear in one long tug. His lips burned a long path down the smooth skin of her thigh. “Edie, my fireball. My heart. Open for me.”
She ached so much. Parting her knees seemed her only relief. Her legs fell open. Cool air brushed her dewy center, almost immediately replaced by his fiery hot palm. He cupped her vulva and rode it gently with his hand while he kissed her belly, her mons. “Tell me what you want, Edie. Tell me how you like it.”
No one had ever asked her before. But with Everett it seemed perfectly natural to tell him that felt very nice, that this made her shudder, and when he did them both together it made her want to scream. So he did them both together and she did scream and burst and fluttered down into absolute peace.
Eyes shut, she said, “Now you.”
His only answer was a groan.
“Problem?”
“Unless you can make condoms out of rabbit guts, I have the same problem as before.
“We have the problem, Everett.” She opened her eyes. “But there are ways around it.”
And while the meat simmered slowly, she proceeded to show him some of the things that she’d learned since her commune days.
• • •
When Everett was boneless under her, Edie rested her head on his muscled thigh, gazed up at him and permitted herself a small, slightly smug smile. She’d done it. She’d tamed the mighty beast of the corporate boardroom.
She lazed with this thought for all of five seconds before his silver-blue eyes popped open.
“Why do you hate Bethany?”
Ruefully, Edie wondered which of them really had been tamed. “I don’t hate her.”
“No?” He sat up and drew her next to him, one capable hand making lazy circles on her backside. “Then why are you always sniping at each other?”
Danger, Will Robinson. Telling Everett about Aurora and Leadbottom was revealing; explaining Bethany would strip bare her childhood. She opened her mouth to give him a comfortable lie.
Knocked clean out of her head when he smiled at her, unleashing the dimple.
Stealth dimple. That sucker was dangerous. She jumped up, found her scattered clothes. The silence stretched while she put them on. She turned to tell him but nothing came out. Even dressed, she didn’t feel any less exposed.
He stood, came and gathered her gently into his arms. “You don’t have to.”
Perversely, that decided her. She took a deep breath. “Bethany and I … we grew up in the same commune.”
“I didn’t know those still existed. You, I can see. But Bethany?”
“Sure, she proactively leverages the strategic paradigm now, but for the first part of her life she was as macrobiotic a little peacenik as I
was.”
“Huh.” Everett urged her back onto the couch. She objected until he snagged her foot and started massaging. Objections turned into a little groan. “Go on,” he said, as if his touch weren’t making her relax into a puddle.
“Bethany’s parents were originally Eighties yuppies. But when they joined us they were like born-again hippies, really vocal. First to shout over pollution, protest war, save the animal of the week. Wherever they went, they pushed Bethany out in front. She was practically a poster girl for us. Mmm, that feels nice.”
“Bethany, a protest poster girl.” His strong fingers soothed the ball of her foot. “The mind boggles.”
“Eventually my grandparents pulled out of the commune so I could go to a good high school and college. Bethany and her folks were off on a crusade and I didn’t get to say goodbye. I had trouble adjusting to public high school and by the time I wrote her, a few weeks had gone by. She didn’t answer. I wrote several more times but she never got back to me.”
“You didn’t phone?”
“The commune had one emergency phone. We weren’t supposed to tie it up with personal calls but I did eventually decide that not hearing from Bethany was an emergency. I got her parents. They told me she never wanted to speak with me again. I was shocked, and by that time we were into semester finals and, well, I’m not proud of it, but I lost touch with Bethany. You can imagine my surprise when I met up with her at HHE. I tried to talk to her about our past but she shut me out. She was very different. Maybe Howell changed her.”
“Why would you think Howell did it? Because they’re sleeping together?”
“It’s a bit more. Working late one night I heard them arguing — loudly. Howell accused Bethany of being tawdry like her parents. She was shouting about her corporate worth. But she was crying too. Sobbing that she was just trying to please him.” Edie pulled her foot from Everett’s hands, tucked both feet under her. “I don’t understand how she could do that, change to please a man. Speaking of, quid pro quo, Everett. Why do you hate Howell?”
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t hate him.” He tucked the blanket around her. “But someone is trying to push me out of my job. It’s most likely Howell.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.” He rose and started cleaning the table. “It was subtle until lately. Rumors about apparent indiscretions. Vague accusations of not being a company man.”
“Covering for employees who won’t toe the line?” Edie bit her lip.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Everett bestowed a quick smile on her as he walked the papers to the trash. “But just before I left, false quarterly figures were forwarded to the board of directors. That was his mistake. If I can find out where those figures came from, I’ve got him.”
“Are you certain it’s Howell?”
“Who else? But I need proof.” He cocked his head, staring thoughtfully at the dead phone on the stack of milk crates.
“More corporate Tarzaning?”
“Tarzaning.” He picked up the phone base, turning it thoughtfully in his hands. “Is that a word?”
“It is now. What are you doing?”
“Even if the line gets fixed … ” He shook the base. It rattled, like bits were loose inside. “We’re not getting a call out.”
Just when she was feeling a connection. “Poor Ms. Dooley, alone in the office, waiting for your call.”
“She guards my back, Edie.” It was a gentle reprimand.
“Yeah, sorry. You’ve convinced me that businesses are more dangerous than I thought.”
He set down the phone, came and gathered her into his arms. “Don’t worry. I can handle it.” He kissed her nose.
At that moment, the delicious scent of cooking meat rose to tease her. “You know, Everett, I believe you can.”
Chapter Twelve
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Are you a mind-reader?
Dear ED,
Thank you for understanding. You’re beyond a mind-reader. You’re a best friend.
I just wish mind-reading could nail down my enemy.
— Prez
Tarzaning. As Edie minced dried onion for the abbreviated stew, she pictured Everett clad in a loincloth and tie, swinging on a vine over the big main conference room table at HHE, overwhelming all opposition.
For a brief moment, in her imagination, she swung tight in his arm with him, protected from dangers below by his strength.
She sighed.
Everett Kirk had proved to be a man of hidden talents, and not just his survival skills. Deeply hidden were compassion and championship of the little guy. He wasn’t the corporate ogre she’d thought.
She glanced at him. Flannel shirt, just like her. She wondered if, on the battleground between nurturing employees and exploiting them, he was really much nearer her side. Had her own extreme attitude polarized him into opposing her?
Edie set down her knife. The mental black-and-white map labeled “Us” and “Them” morphed into color. The board, Howells, Bethany, herself, Jack, clients, vendors, customers … Everett was caught in the middle of them all.
How difficult it must be to please everyone. How challenging to keep the whole company running smoothly and still maintain his personal integrity. No wonder he had headaches.
As she cooked, her eyes kept wandering toward him. He was knotting together more of his snares, the ones she’d mocked, the ones that had worked. His hands were competent and sure. She wanted them on her again.
He looked up, caught her watching him, and smiled. “Thanks for making lunch.”
“By the time it’s ready, it’ll be more like dinner.”
“I’m in no hurry.” He sauntered over, and pulled her into his arms, hugged her close. He smoothed her hair. “I have to split firewood and lay the snares.”
“Don’t go too far.”
“Why Edie, my fireball.” His lips were warm on her neck. “I didn’t know you cared.”
She cared, more than was good for her. So much so that she was thinking how nice it would be to come home every day to this.
When he left to cut wood, her neck was still tingling.
Her stew was bubbling and she was washing some of her clothes in the sink when he returned.
“Look out for the line.” She’d strung a makeshift clothesline between upper cabinet handles. “I’ll do your clothes too, if you want,” she called to him as he stripped off his outer garments.
“Thanks.” Everett came and gave her a quick hug. Definitely habit-forming. He brought out a pile of clothes and laid it on the counter as she rinsed hers. He gave her a sweet kiss, then took a sopping shirt from the sink and wrung it out with his hands. He hung it on her line, straightening it to dry better.
“You do that almost as if you know what you’re doing. Your mother?”
“Serenity Rangers International, actually. That, and many years of bachelorhood.”
“I thought you’d have a cleaning service.” Actually, she thought he’d have a succession of live-in roommates to handle domestic chores. She piled her wet laundry in the bucket then refilled the sink, adding soap and his clothes.
He kissed her hair. “Thank you.”
“For dinner? Or laundry?” Her eyes closed as he stood behind her and hugged her, her hands going still in the wash water.
“You could have blamed all this on me. Instead, you’ve done everything you can to make our stay here pleasant.” He kissed her cheek.
Her eyes opened. “It was my fault too.”
“Let’s not argue about that. In fact, let’s not argue about anything.” His mouth found hers and she turned from the wash into his arms. It felt good, right.
It felt like the first day of the re
st of her life. A life that included him.
But stupid company policy …
Everett’s competent hands worked their way down her backside, and she forgot all about company policy.
• • •
That evening, full of rabbit stew, Edie decided she wanted a bath.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Everett said. “The tap water isn’t much warmer than melted snow.”
“I’ll add boiling.” She hauled out a couple pots. “You did it.”
“I needed a bath. You don’t.”
“On the contrary. I reek worse than the rabbit cleanings.” She filled the pots with water and set them on the stove.
“Please, Edie. You won’t like it.”
“Why, Everett. Finally admitting you took a cold bath?”
“No.” He paused. “Maybe a little cool. I’ll stoke the fire. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
“How considerate. Does HHE suspect?”
“That I’m not a blood-thirsty savage in a tie? No, they’d fire me in an instant.” He opened the stove and added wood. By the time she dumped the boiling water into the white claw-footed tub, the cabin felt like a sauna.
Everett tested the water. “I’ll put more wood in the stove.”
“Everett, if it gets any hotter in here I’ll think I’ve been sent downstairs for my corporate sins.”
“Hell?”
“Accounting.”
“I don’t want you to catch cold,” he repeated stubbornly, and he left the room.
As Edie stripped, she heard the scrape of the grating and the thunk of wood. If it got any hotter, the cabin would spontaneously combust.
Then she eased into the cool water and goose bumps immediately ran up her flesh. When she sluiced water onto her head, the heat of her own scalp radiated through the river of cold. Her nipples were tight as lug nuts, and though she’d rather stuff a thumb drive up her bottom than admit Everett was right, the quicker this bath was done, the better.
Heart to Heart Page 145