Gabe held up his hands, palms out, and tried to reason. “Gentlemen. There’s no need for this. I’m happy to see myself—” He ducked under the meaty fist swung at his head.
Maybe Dax and Marla were right. Maybe he did have a problem with words.
Chapter Ten
Ric peeked under a tile and dropped it back down into the mix of other dominoes lying face down on his table. He caught Marla’s eye and winked.
Shaking her head, she turned back to her own table. She’d taken her grandfather and Ric out to dinner, and had returned to Golden Acres an hour ago. A cutthroat game of dominoes was being waged at the large round table at the center of the community room. The residents were playing a penny a point, a dime a game, the betting against Golden Acres rules. Anytime an employee of the facility entered the room, veiny hands would cover the small piles of coins circling the table, hiding the evidence from people more than happy to turn a blind eye. Raucous hoots of laughter, and cheers and boos for the winner erupted with amusing regularity from that table.
Marla’s table, on the far side of the room, was not the fun table.
It was her own darn fault. She’d arranged this meeting with Deborah Garcia and Eugenie Shaw. The two women ran their own technology consulting firm and were the de facto IT staff for Forever Friends. They’d agreed to meet with Marla after one of their classes at Golden Acres. The septuagenarians were two smart cookies, with drive and accomplishment Marla could only dream of. They were not, however, easy to work with.
“I told you that would never work.” Eugenie tugged at the brim of her wool cloche hat. “Why are we still discussing it?”
“Just because you say something won’t work doesn’t mean it actually will not work.” Debbie stabbed a plump finger onto the wood tabletop. “The last coding class I took from UMich online, the instructor said—”
“I know what he said, but he’s wrong.” Shaking her head sadly, Eugenie bent and stroked the gray-and-brown mop of fur she called Shep. The dog tilted his head to get a better angle for his chin scritch. “Without an IDE, we need to run code from the command line. Those are the facts. It’s called science.”
“Ladies, please.” Marla rubbed her forehead. A happy yip sounded from a nearby sofa, and she looked longingly at the three residents petting Maddie, Hoover, and Debbie’s young pup, Sampson. She knew Maddie would prefer to sit with her, but wherever the poodle went, Hoover followed. And if Hoov was at their table, no work would be getting done. The three older women were having a ball with the dogs, one even going so far as to comb Maddie’s poofs. Marla shot one more longing glance their way, then turned back to her table. “I think we’re getting diverted from our original idea. You can make the app without the IDE thingy, right?”
The women nodded.
“So perhaps you could shelve your debate for another time?” Any time that Marla wasn’t in hearing distance. Her eyes had glazed over at the first talk of terabytes.
Eugenie sniffed. “Of course.”
Debbie crossed her arms over her impressive bosom, the paisley fabric of her blouse stretching taut. “I wasn’t the one who brought it up in the first place.”
“Great!” Marla said brightly, cutting off any retort. How these two had remained friends for over fifty years was beyond comprehension. Although, as her recent experience with Gabe had proven, fighting didn’t necessarily lead to bad things. “Can you describe what your vision is for the Forever Friends app?”
Debbie leaned forward and pushed her chin-length dyed-black hair behind one ear. “Forever Friends is a no-kill shelter, so we want anyone’s first call to be there instead of the county facility if they spot a stray.”
Eugenie nodded. “But we need to make reporting an animal as easy as possible. This new generation has the attention span of a gnat. If we require users to type in information like location, breed of dog, and when they spotted him, people will either forget half of the information they need to give or be too lazy to bother.”
“So true.” Debbie slipped off a loafer and rubbed Shep’s back with her stockinged foot. “I’m so glad we were born when we were. Young enough to enjoy all the new technology, but old enough to appreciate good manners and smart enough not to cross a street with your head down looking at a phone.”
Genie nodded, their disagreement forgotten over mutual disgust of the modern generation. “So, our app—”
“Our future app,” Debbie corrected.
“—will be as simple as a user opening it up and taking a picture of the stray. We want to enable it to transmit not only the photo of the animal to Forever Friends, but the time and date of the photo and the GPS location of the phone when the picture was taken. That way Brad—”
“Or Dax or Gabe,” Debbie added.
“—can drive to the location and hopefully the dog will still be nearby.” Picking up a paper cup of tea, Genie took a sip, wrinkled her nose, and lifted the tea bag from the cup. “It should only take five seconds out of the user’s day, and hopefully Forever Friends will become the primary responder for county strays.”
“And you can do that?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, young lady.” Eugenie rapped the table with her knuckles. “There are lots of apps that track location. How do you think those car services know where to pick you up?”
“Or the track-your-friends one? Really,” Debbie said, shaking her head and setting her chins to wobbling, “we’re not exactly inventing the wheel here.”
Marla held her hands up. “I don’t care how many similar apps have gone before, I’d still be impressed by anyone who could create something like that. I see all the certificates you’ve earned are being put to good use.” She rubbed at the small pinch behind her breastbone. Two old ladies were skilled, productive members of the workforce. She should find them inspiring, not be jealous. “Do you think you could modify the app to allow someone to report a suspected location for a dog fight? The same premise would hold, right? Take a picture of a building, let’s say, and the location data would go to Forever Friends?”
Debbie looked doubtful. “In theory, yes. But we wouldn’t want one of our boys showing up somewhere expecting to find a poor stray and coming upon criminals instead.”
“And shouldn’t something like that be reported to the police?” The wrinkles in Genie’s forehead deepened. “I know Herbie would throw the book at anyone caught in that despicable business.”
“Herbie?”
Debbie groaned. “Don’t get her started. In a nutshell, Herbie is Judge Herbert Nichols and they’re dating.” She lowered her head to her laptop, ignoring her friend’s glare.
“Right then.” Marla chewed on her bottom lip. “Back to the app. Didn’t you say that people are lazy? Too lazy to call the police, perhaps? And they might be scared to inform on criminals. If we can make the app anonymous—”
“That layer of privacy would be a whole other kettle of worms.” Debbie scratched her head with the tip of a pen. “I think we’re getting more complicated than we need to.”
Marla used her thumb to rotate the ring on her right hand. The unblemished emerald caught the light before disappearing under her finger. Maybe she did expect too much. She wanted the results, but wasn’t in the position to actually accomplish them. Debbie and Eugenie would be doing the work.
She gave the women a small smile. “All right. How about you proceed with your original plans, and then we’ll see if it can, or needs to be, adapted at all for the secondary purpose. When do you think you can have it ready?”
“Well,” Genie said, straightening her hat, “we have quite a few paying clients in line before this…”
“This will be a paid job, not a donation to the shelter. Send the bill directly to me.” Something, at least, that she could do.
“In that case,” Debbie said, and stuck out her hand, “we’re on it.”
Marla an
d Debbie shook.
“We can have a prototype ready for beta testing, oh, in a week?” Genie shot a questioning glance at Debbie, and the other woman nodded.
“Great,” Marla said. “Let me know how to install it on my phone, and I’d be happy to run around town testing it for you.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Debbie turned in her seat, her gaze searching the room. “There he is. Sampson, time to go.” She clapped her hands.
The boxer mix looked up from his spot draped over the lap of Mrs. Hansen. He bounded off the sofa and loped toward them. Ducking under Debbie’s hand, the dog trotted over to the dominoes table. He stood on his hind legs, his front paws tucked tight to his chest, and eyed the action on the table.
Genie tilted her chin up. “Shep would have come right to me.”
“Sampson’s still a puppy. Sort of.” Debbie heaved herself to her feet. She pulled a nylon leash from the large bag hanging from the back of her chair. “I’ll be right back.”
Marla stood and stretched. “I should be going, too.” She checked her phone. Still no reply from Gabe. It didn’t surprise her that he wasn’t the loquacious sort when it came to texting. His brief How R U? that morning had come as a welcome surprise. But he hadn’t responded to her invitation. Had she sounded too eager?
Following Debbie to the dominoes table, Marla leaned over her grandfather’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. “How are you doing?”
“I’m up one forty!” he crowed.
“Really?”
He lowered his voice. “Ric’s been distracted, and the rest of the players offer no competition.”
The woman to their left huffed. “Well, really.”
“Why’s Ric distracted?” Marla asked.
“He’s been eyeing your friend all night,” he whispered. “The curvy one.” He nodded at Debbie, who was trying to snap the leash on her dog. He dodged her attempt and barked, thinking it was a game.
Deda was right. Ric’s gaze was tracking her every move.
“Well.” Marla kissed his cheek again and wiped off a smudge of lipstick. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” She rounded the table and introduced the pair. “Debbie, have you met Enrique Casal? He’s a good friend of my grandfather’s and a resident here. Ric, this is Deborah Garcia, one of the tech whizzes who teaches here.”
Ric popped to his feet like a cork from a champagne bottle. “Enchanté.” He took Debbie’s hand and bent low, placing a soft kiss on the back.
Debbie blinked, then flushed bright pink. “How do you d-do?”
“And does this handsome fellow belong to you?” Ric patted Sampson’s head and held his collar steady so Debbie could clip on the leash.
Marla pressed her lips together and arched an eyebrow. Ric was no one’s dummy. Complimenting a woman’s dog was the surest way to her heart.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming message, and her heart jumped like a jack-in-the-box. It was from Gabe, a man who most assuredly wasn’t making a play for her heart and never complimented her dogs.
She read the two-sentence text and had to keep from sprinting for the door. “I’ve got to go.” She kissed Ric on his cheek, gave a last wave to her grandfather, and hurried to her dogs. “Let’s go, pups.”
She shifted from one foot to the other as the residents said their goodbyes to Maddie and Hoover. She scooped Hoov up and raced for the parking lot, with Maddie a step behind. After she’d settled everyone inside, she pulled out her phone again.
Can I come over? it read. I’ll bring dinner.
Gabe appreciated brevity so she kept her reply to the point. Yes, to both. The smile wouldn’t leave her face as she sped home.
* * * *
Marla fluffed her hair and gave one last glance at her appearance in the mirror. She snagged a tissue and blotted her lip gloss as pounding sounded at her front door. Her heart skittered sideways.
Hoover’s high-pitched yips battled with Mad’s deeper barks as she hurried down the stairs. She scooped up Hoov and swung the door open. Gabe stood on her welcome mat, holding a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack in the other. A breeze ruffled his chestnut hair and a lock stood upright. The cowlick made him seem softer. Sweeter.
Until he opened his mouth. “Seriously, you have a window right next to your door. Take a second to look outside before opening up.” He wiped his boots on her mat and stepped into the foyer.
She smiled and swapped out the pizza box for Hoov. There was her grumpypants. She peeked under the lid and inhaled. “How did you know I like Hawaiian?”
Gabe scratched Hoov’s head before placing him next to Maddie. “Everyone likes Hawaiian.” He raised his hand to pet Mad, but she stalked to the living room before he could touch her. Hoov followed at her heels. Sighing, Gabe placed the six-pack on a side table and shrugged out of his jacket.
Marla snuck a piece of pineapple and popped it in her mouth. “Mmm. So good.” She licked a bit of juice from her thumb.
Gabe dropped his jacket on the floor, his gaze transfixed on her mouth. “How hungry are you?” He stepped forward and took her hand. Keeping his eyes on hers, he raised it to his mouth and sucked the tip of her thumb between his lips.
The empty feeling in her stomach dropped lower. Her skin tingled, and she desperately wanted that mouth on other parts of her body. “I can wait to eat.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day.” Never releasing her hand, he turned for the stairs and took them two at a time, tugging her up behind him. He strode unerringly to her bedroom door. Marla just managed to kick it closed before he propelled her toward the bed.
“Hmm.” Gabe surveyed the books spread across her duvet. Dropping her hand, he gathered them up, taking care not to damage them, Marla noted, and stacked them on her dresser.
Marla pushed the lamp on her bedside table to the corner and wedged the pizza box onto it. She turned, and sucked in a breath.
Gabe had already taken off his shirt and was working on his shoes and socks with the same speed. No romantic words or sweet seductions for him. She leaned a hip against her bed. Although Gabe taking off his clothes was probably as much of a seduction as any woman would require. He was that sexy. He was built without having that scary work-out-ten-hours-a-day definition. The generous hair on his chest was masculine, sexy. Gabe wasn’t the type of guy to give a thought to manscaping, and Marla thanked God for it.
He stood up straight, and Marla couldn’t contain the cry that escaped her lips. “What happened?” She hurried over to him and bent to examine the dark bruise that stained the skin under his ribs. A couple of smaller, lighter marks dotted his torso, but nothing like the rough oval of purple that spanned several inches on his side. She’d become used to his eye, even though that was now turning a sickly green, but this new bruise looked wicked.
“Nothing. I got off light.” He cupped her cheek and tried to draw her up.
She swatted his hand away. “That doesn’t look like nothing. That looks like a big, fat something.” She traced the edges of the bruise and Gabe flinched. She snatched her finger back.
“Really, if you’d seen the two guys, you’d realize how nothing this actually is.” Gabe pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed it onto the bed. “I’m lucky they were as slow as they were dumb.”
“But who—”
“It doesn’t matter.” He wound a strand of her hair around his finger and tugged her close. He pressed a kiss to her lips. “I didn’t come here to talk about my mistakes.”
Of course not. This was a fling. Nothing serious was discussed during a fling. She forced a smile and reached for the side zipper of her dress. “Okay, then. But if this is a race to disrobe, I think you’re going to beat me.”
He tugged off his boxers and pants in one go and stood before her completely bare. Absolutely confident in his nudity, bruises and all. “I might be in a hurry to get started, but I
’ll take my time when it counts.” He stepped forward and grasped the hem of her skirt. He dragged it over her thighs and hips, the tips of his fingers caressing every inch of skin he exposed. “Hands up,” he told her.
She raised her arms above her head and shivered as his caress tickled her ribs and the sides of her breasts.
He tossed the dress to the ground and muttered something under his breath. Raising both hands, he cupped her and used his thumbs to trace circles around her nipples. “Have I mentioned how much I love the fact you don’t wear a bra?”
“Sometimes I wear a bra.” She dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling as sensation flooded her. Damn he was good with his hands. “I’m sure I could make you appreciate me in lingerie.”
“I’d appreciate you in a burlap sack.” He scored his teeth across her collarbone, and Marla’s knees went weak. The smile she sent to the ceiling was genuine this time. Oh yeah. Any lingering resentments were gone. She was back aboard the tryst train. No cuddling or confidences needed.
She ran her palms along the back of his shoulders. He flexed his muscles beneath her touch. So much strength in his body. Such restrained power. She shuddered when he sucked at a patch of skin on her throat. She wanted to feel that power beneath her. Contained by her. She turned and pushed on his chest until he fell back on the bed.
She crawled over him, placing wet, hot kisses over his flat stomach. “I’m so glad,” she said and licked around his nipple, “that you took that stick out of your ass and got on board with this idea. I have to say it is one of my better ones.”
He speared his fingers into her hair, gripping her head. “You feel so good right now I’m going to ignore that stick comment.” He pulled her up his body and brought her face to his. His lips were gentle as he slid his tongue into her mouth and explored every inch.
She trailed her hand over his hip until she found his length. She stroked him up and down. “Does that feel even better?”
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