Kirk dismissed him and waited for him to shut the door before he turned to Tonya. “Who the hell gave you the right to hire him to work at the center?” he said, his voice low and fierce.
“I... No one.”
“Didn’t you think of discussing your idea with me?” he asked.
“N-no, it just came to me.”
“Like a bolt from the blue.”
She lifted her chin. “Exactly.”
“Well, next time you get one of those inspirations, you talk it over with me first.” He rose, his hands still tightly fisted. He looked even bigger this afternoon, as if his anger had added to his stature. “You’re overseeing a grant, not running the show.”
So that was it. Suddenly she understood him. His behavior, so confusing up till now, made sense. They were engaged in a power struggle, he and she. A power struggle she hadn’t even been aware existed until now. But it was real to Kirk. In his mind she had the upper hand because she had control of the grant, and he resented it. And her. He didn’t want to give up an ounce of his authority, and she’d just encroached on his territory.
Arguing would only make things worse. The only way to handle this was to surrender some of her power. Which was easy because it wasn’t particularly important to her. She cared more about other things—making a contribution to the center, doing something she could finally be proud of.
“I should have asked,” she said. “Sometimes I act without thinking.” She saw the surprise on his face and knew she’d said the right thing. “Should we call Germain back in here and work out a different way for him to pay for the window?”
“Leave it,” he muttered. “But next time—”
“Next time we’ll talk things over.”
He nodded. “Let’s go back to the office. While you sign us out, I’ll run in and tell Karen what happened.”
Tonya drew a breath as she followed Kirk into the office. She’d averted a disaster. And now that she had a dearer picture of Kirk, maybe they could...
Establish a better working relationship?
Well, that, too. But at the moment, Tonya’s goals were much more personal. She watched as Kirk and Karen Monroe stood talking in the open doorway of the principal’s office. She hoped Karen didn’t have any designs on Kirk. If she did, Tonya would make sure she would be disappointed.
KIRK STARED AT TONYA as they walked down the hall to the front door of the school. Her face wore a secretive half smile. Whatever she was thinking about, she was enjoying it.
She was something! She’d surprised him again, admitting that her job offer to Germain had been too hasty, that she should have talked it over with Kirk first. He had to respect her for admitting her mistake. Add that to the things he’d grown to like about her and the list was getting damn long. He thought of her liveliness, her grit, her determination. And the fact that she drove him crazy with desire. Man, some list.
Smiling to himself, he opened the door and followed Tonya out A light rain was falling. Kirk glanced up as they hurried to the truck. “We’re going to have a storm,” he remarked, gesturing toward the pewter gray clouds to the east, “and it’s moving in fast.”
His prediction was right. Before they were halfway back to the center, the heavens burst open. Violently. While thunder rumbled, a deluge poured down on them. Rain drummed on the roof, and he had to shout to make himself heard. “Slow down.”
Tonya didn’t answer. Instead, she maneuvered the truck like a speedboat. Water spewed up, almost to the windows. “Hey—” Kirk leaned over to shout in her ear “—slow this baby down or I’ll do it.”
He edged his booted foot toward the pedals. Tonya glanced at it and pumped the brake herself. After a minute, she asked, “How are you getting home?”
“My bike.”
“In this rain? You won’t make it around the corner. Besides, you’ll get pneumonia.”
“Then I’ll hang around the center until the storm’s over.”
“By the looks of the sky, the rain’s going to last all night I’ll take you home.”
He wouldn’t turn down the chance to spend an extra hour with her. He shrugged. “All right. Want me to drive?” Tonya aimed a disgusted look at him and he grinned. “Okay, let’s see how you manage.”
“I manage just fine,” she muttered. “Why, once when I sat out a hurricane in Puerto Rico, I drove a jeep through San Juan in floodwaters up to your a—abdomen,” she corrected.
“I bet.”
She lifted her chin. “It’s true. Don’t you believe—”
“Holy Moses!” Kirk grabbed for the steering wheel as they narrowly missed slamming into a van. “Watch where you’re going!”
Her chin rose another notch. “I was.”
Kirk shook his head. He’d known driving home with her would be exciting. He hadn’t guessed it would be terrifying. “One thing I believe is your collection of traffic tickets. Lady, you are a road hazard.”
“It’s all relative,” Tonya said. “My cousin Stuart once thought of becoming a race car driver. Now he is a danger behind the wheel. I could tell you stories...”
“No, thanks. Is that the cousin who owns the truck?”
“No, he’s into another kind of adventure.” She didn’t elaborate but smiled to herself as if she knew a secret.
Kirk wondered what her secret was and what it would be like to unravel all her mysteries. He’d start with her skin. Was it as petal soft all over as on her cheeks? Would it heat from his kisses? Damn, his jeans were getting tight again. He shifted uncomfortably. To distract himself, he returned to the topic of her cousin. “What kind of adventure?”
“Literary.”
Literary adventure sounded like an oxymoron to Kirk. And why would a literary type drive a pickup truck? “And did your other cousin become a race car driver?”
“Nope, a banker.”
“I have trouble picturing any cousin of yours as a conservative banker.”
“Oh, his interest in race car driving was a form of temporary insanity. He gave up the idea by the time he was in college, although he still drives like a maniac. Sad,” she said with a mischievous smile, “that’s the only thing left of his youthful dreams.” Kirk chuckled. “In fact,” she continued, “most of my family is very traditional, except Sam, of course. And me. I’m the black sheep.”
“Why is that?”
“Too many job changes. No goals.” Although she smiled as she spoke, he heard something in her voice that told him her black-sheep status wasn’t as funny to her as she pretended. It also explained a lot of things, such as why she stubbornly refused to leave the OK Center, even in the face of teenage violence. She was trying to change her image.
He wondered why her grandfather had sent her to the center in the first place. As a punishment? As a learning experience? “Why no goals?” he asked.
She shrugged as she plowed past a sedately moving car. “I’m easily bored, I guess. Short attention span.”
He’d keep that in mind, he decided. Then a roar of thunder claimed his attention, and he flipped on the radio, pushing buttons until he found a weather report.
It didn’t sound good. But he didn’t need the radio to tell him that. He’d lived nearly all his life in Houston and knew how flood-prone the city was. With the rain they’d had in the last few days soaking the ground and overflowing the bayous, plus the amount they were getting this afternoon, the city would be waist-deep in water within the hour.
In fact, the water was high enough already that the truck was barely making progress. “Pull over,” he directed as they approached a corner.
But he was too late. She was already into the intersection. Water rose along the side of the small truck as the street dipped lower. Then a bus lumbered up beside them. Waves sloshed against the door, drenched the windows. The truck rocked back and forth. “God,” Tonya muttered. “I’m getting seasick. I feel like we’re on an ocean liner.”
“Let’s hope it’s not the Titanic.”
They inche
d across the intersection. The bus pulled ahead. In its wake, a tidal wave washed over the windshield. From the street to their right, a delivery truck plowed into the intersection.
Kirk reached over and pounded on the horn. The truck kept coming. “He’s lost his brakes,” he shouted to Tonya. “Move it!”
That was one thing she did well. Heedless of the flood, she sped the rest of the way across the intersection. The truck missed them by inches.
She swung into the parking lot on the corner. “No brakes,” she muttered, dodging a car, then another, finally sliding to a stop. When she turned to Kirk, her eyes were filled with devilry. “That was exciting.”
“Exciting? A bus nearly sinks us. A truck almost rams us. Your transmission is probably on its last gasp. Lady, if you thought that was fun, you are certifiable.”
Tonya leaned back and grinned. “Probably.”
He couldn’t help smiling back.
“Looks like we’re stuck for a while,” Tonya said, glancing out of the window.
Kirk nodded. If she wanted her cousin’s transmission to survive, they’d have to sit out the storm. He’d experienced enough of Houston’s frequent floods to know how many foolhardy drivers had to abandon their cars because they’d tried to drive through water. Once the rain stopped and the overloaded sewer system began to function again, the streets would drain and they could make it home. In the meantime...
“What shall we do to pass the time?” Tonya asked. Her tongue peeped out to moisten her lips, and several ideas crossed his mind. Before he could mention them, she said, “I know. Let’s have a picnic.”
Would she never stop surprising him? “A what?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in a supermarket parking lot. And I’m starving.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s raining.”
“No problem,” she said airily. “I have an umbrella.” She reached under the seat and pulled out a large umbrella. Kirk took it from her and opened the door.
He stepped into water almost as high as the tops of his boots. When he looked back, he saw that Tonya had scrambled across along the bench seat and was on the passenger side, ready to climb out. “You can’t walk through this,” he said. “Your shoes have holes.”
“Yes, they’re sandals.” She scooted closer to the door. “I can get there if you can.”
Damn, she really meant to get out. “If you insist on coming along...” He thrust the umbrella at her and scooped her up in his arms. She squealed and the lady in a nearby car rolled down the window and peered out.
Tonya smiled and waved at her. “It’s okay.”
She held the umbrella over them, cuddling against his chest, laughing, as he carried her through the storm. Despite the rain, the thunder, the water sloshing into his boots, he enjoyed every soggy step. Her warm breath tickled his cheek, her soft breasts pressed against him. He could have walked like this for miles.
When he set her down inside the store, she tossed her hair back and grinned at him. “You’re a knight in shining armor, Butler. Sir Walter Raleigh in modern dress.”
He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “The water was too deep for a cloak.”
“This was much better. Now, onward to the salad bar.”
They selected salads, pasta, a loaf of crusty sourdough bread and canned drinks. He carried her back to the truck and they spread their picnic on the seat between them. Tonya clinked her soda can against his. “To rainy-day picnics.”
“Have you had many?” he asked, envy of other men she might have picnicked with churning through him.
“Oh, yes. On rainy days when my brother and I were kids and we’d whine about not being able to go out to play, Mom would spread an old blanket on the floor and we’d have indoor picnics.” She smiled as if she could see that childhood scene. “We’d make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and play Battle or Go Fish, and sometimes we’d tell ghost stories. Ryan, my brother, could tell stories that would scare you silly.”
He envied that even more—the warm, loving family she described. A mother around to make sandwiches, a brother to play games with. His own family hadn’t been like Germain’s, but it was a far cry from Tonya’s. They’d grown up in different worlds. They still lived in different worlds.
He reached for the radio dial. “Let’s hear the weather report,” he said gruffly.
“Flooding is causing massive traffic tie-ups throughout the Greater Houston area. Rain is expected to continue for the next several hours...”
“Guess we’ll be here awhile.” When they finished their meal, Tonya gathered up the plastic containers and stuffed them in the grocery sack, then reached for her purse. She fished inside for her deck of cards and a jingling coin purse, then looked up at him. Her lips curved in a slow, beguiling smile; her eyes gleamed wickedly. “Poker or gin?” The way she said them, even the names of the card games sounded sexy.
Kirk’s stomach lurched. “Poker,” he said hoarsely.
Her smile widened. “My choice, too.”
“Think you’re good, huh?”
Her lashes fluttered. “An ace. What about you?” Her eyes raked over him. “Are you good?”
Somehow he didn’t think they were talking about poker anymore. He took the cards from her hand and shuffled them expertly. “You can let me know...afterward. Cut.”
He dealt the cards and watched Tonya scrutinize her hand and discard three. She pursed her lips and considered, counted out ten pennies and tossed them on the seat. “Each one’s worth a dollar. Ten.”
He found his wallet, raised her ten, and the battle was on.
He liked listening to her mutter to herself under her breath. Liked the way she narrowed her eyes as if she could see right through his cards. Liked hearing her chatter. “I learned to play poker at my grandfather’s knee,” she remarked. “Why, once when we were in Las Vegas and I was only seven, I sat in his lap at the poker table and helped him win fifty grand.”
“Have you ever entered a liar’s contest?” Kirk asked, realizing that he simply liked being with her. She made him laugh.
And, God, she made him want.
As they played, the space inside the truck seemed to shrink, the air seemed to heat. Unspoken sexual messages flew back and forth. The windows of the truck fogged, and he could swear it was as much from what was going on between them as from the weather. Their fingers brushed, their gazes met, slid away and met again; their voices lowered, softened. He wanted, waited. And wondered how much longer he could do without her.
Outside, the sky darkened; Tonya flipped on the light as rain slowed to a patter. “That’s eight hundred dollars for you, seven-sixty for me.”
“We’ll call it a draw.”
“Okay. Do you know any other games?” He shook his head. “Card tricks?”
He picked up the deck. “Yeah, I can make them disappear.” He’d waited as long as he could. No more. He tossed the cards over his shoulder, turned off the light and reached for her. “Come here, Tonya.”
Without hesitation, she moved into his arms. For a moment, he only held her, savoring. “You feel so good,” he whispered.
“So do you.”
He ran teasing kisses along her jaw. “You smell good, too...but different.”
“I changed perfume.”
With his tongue, he explored her ear and was delighted when she shivered. “Why?”
She drew back and looked at him, her eyes full of mischief. “Wearing the same one every day would be boring. Don’t you like surprises?”
“Mmm, yes.” He groaned and pulled her back to him.
Then he forgot about talking, forgot everything but the need that consumed him. His hands dived into the silk of her hair, his tongue plundered the honey of her mouth. She sighed; he moaned. When she twined her arms around his neck, he lifted her into his lap. His teeth scraped along her neck, his hand slipped beneath her jacket and covered her breast.
“You’re so soft,” he muttered, fumbli
ng with buttons.
“Kirk.” She pushed against his chest.
He opened his eyes. Half-drunk from her taste, he stared at her, uncomprehending.
“Not here,” she whispered urgently. “Not now.” She scrambled back into the driver’s seat.
Of course, not here. Of course, not now.
Around them, headlights were coming on. Horns were honking. Dazed, Kirk stared at the parking lot. Most of the water had drained off. She’d stopped them in the nick of time, before they’d done something stupid.
“We...we can go now,” Tonya muttered.
“Yeah.” As she pulled slowly into the street, he wondered what would have happened had they been somewhere else. Somewhere private. Somewhere appropriate for lovemaking.
He’d never know.
Except for brief directions, he didn’t speak as she drove him the rest of the way home. She, too, was silent Kirk guessed she felt awkward, but he said nothing to ease her discomfort.
When she pulled up at his apartment, he made no attempt to prolong the evening. She turned to him, her eyes full of questions.
He didn’t answer them. “Thanks for the ride,” he said. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“Monday,” she echoed. “How will you get to work?”
“I’ll call Ramon.” He got out of the truck and watched her drive away.
It was bad enough when he only wanted her, he mused. Now he needed her. And damned if he didn’t really like her, too.
Different worlds, he reminded himself as he had so many times. Black sheep or not, she was a Brewster, and he’d grown up on the streets of the inner city. If she showed up at home with him, her conservative family would be appalled. He’d done the right thing by letting her go tonight.
“The right thing,” he said aloud. So why did it feel so wrong?
ON SUNDAY MORNING with the weather clear again, Tonya watched the uniformed attendant drive the pickup into the automatic car wash. Like giant jaws, the brushes separated and gulped the truck into the maw of the machine, pushing the vehicle along the belt to be scrubbed, waxed and polished until it shone. Tonya ambled beside it, watching the procedure and thinking about the afternoon she’d spent with Kirk. In fact, she’d thought of little else for two days.
Trouble With Tonya Page 11