by Janie Mason
Rafe tried to call Heidi from the garage, and she hung up the second she heard his voice. He attempted two more times, playing out some kind of masochistic role, but she’d stopped picking up.
“If that’s the way she feels about it, that’s fine with me,” he growled, throwing his tools in the cabinet and cleaning up.
“Maybe she’s right,” he told himself later as he stewed at his desk. Maybe they should just put the whole thing behind them. And how could they do that if he kept bringing it up? The lame rationalization got him through the rest of the afternoon, but by dinner he couldn’t sit for more than ten seconds, let alone eat.
“This is a perfect example of why we shouldn’t be together. If she was older, she’d understand the need to talk things out like rational adults.” Rafe tossed his uneaten microwave dinner into the trash.
“I’m going over there, and she’s damn well going to listen to what I have to say, whether she wants to or not.”
But fifteen minutes later, as he arrived at Heidi’s house, there were no lights or noises coming from the house. Her black CRX was in its usual parking spot by the kitchen steps, but there didn’t appear to be anyone home.
Heidi wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t here. She’d be more likely to point Harmon’s old shotgun out the front door and threaten to shoot his balls off.
Bound and determined not to leave before talking to her, Rafe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. He spotted an old muscle-car magazine on the floor of the passenger side. Picking it up and flipping to no page in particular, he settled back to wait for her to come home.
—
“I’ll have another one of these.” Heidi had to yell to be heard over the pounding music. The hunky waiter gave her a wink and moved on to the other women at the table.
“Say, what’s this drink called again?” she asked her best friend, Gigi, before taking a long sip from the straw.
Gigi was on her feet tucking a dollar bill in the G-string of the male dancer next to their table, her hips grinding in perfect synchronization with his.
“Gigi!” Heidi tugged at the hem of her friend’s miniskirt. Gigi rubbed her right hand over the stud’s pectoral, trying with her other hand to free herself from Heidi’s grasp.
Not about to be ignored, Heidi grabbed a fistful of black, simulated alligator skin and yanked. Gigi fell back into the vinyl padded chair.
“Hey!” she complained. “Now look what you’ve done. He’s leaving.” Gigi’s bottom lip protruded in what looked to be genuine disappointment.
“So what? He probably has a gym sock stuffed in that thing anyway.”
“Oh, no.” Gigi’s gaze still followed the almost naked man. “That guy’s package is one hundred percent authentic.”
“How do you know? Wait. Forget I asked. I do not want to know.” Heidi sucked down the last of her drink and tried not to think about how impressive Rafe’s “package” had been.
She slammed the empty glass down and looked down the rectangular table at the other guests of the bachelorette party. Everyone was having a great time. Everyone but her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
“Not come? Are you kidding? I would have tied you up and dragged you here if I’d had to.”
Heidi felt the expression on her face instantly morph from pouting-puppy to hound-dog sad.
“Sorry,” Gigi added, “bad choice of words.”
The mention of restraint reminded Heidi too much of the handcuffs Gigi had borrowed from a deputy friend for Heidi’s escapade last night. And last night was the only reason she’d agreed to accompany Gigi tonight. A sad attempt to forget the best, and worst, night of her life.
Their waiter reappeared, setting another tall, dewy glass in front of her. Gigi, being Gigi, started flirting with the shirtless hunk, leaving Heidi free to continue sulking. She slouched down in her chair, wishing she could change history, at least the last twenty-four hours of it.
Rafe. Heidi sighed all the way down to her toes and then took a long drag from the straw.
How could he regret what had happened between them? She’d felt their souls connect, just as surely as their bodies had. How could he not have felt it, too? But maybe her inexperience was blinding her to the reality of sex. Maybe all sex made you feel that way.
Although he’d never been the kind of guy to flaunt them, Heidi knew Rafe had had his share of lovers. And she’d bet every last one of them had been more experienced at pleasuring a man than she was.
“Well, after last night, I guess I know how rotten a lover I am,” Heidi mumbled to no one in particular. She took another sip and closed her eyes, feeling more relaxed every minute. “Yessiree…” She took yet another sip of the fruity drink and then closed her eyes, forgetting what she’d been about to say.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up.”
Heidi opened her eyes. Gigi was swaying her hips to the beat of the hypnotic music. At least Heidi thought it was Gigi who was swaying and not her own eyeballs in their sockets.
“I’m not sleeping,” she said, “and I’m certainly no beauty.”
“Bull.” Gigi yanked Heidi to her feet.
She caught hold of Gigi’s arm, trying to steady herself.
“I don’t want to hear any more crap like that come out of your mouth, got that?” Gigi gave her a rough hug and then spun her around.
Not only did the spin make Heidi lose all sense of balance, but it just so happened to knock her into the bare chest of one of the male dancers.
“Whoa, careful now.” He caught her shoulders.
Heidi’s hands rested against his smooth, well-defined chest. She looked up, focusing first on a black bow tie and then higher into smiling hazel eyes.
“I’m ssso sssorry.” The slur in her speech surprised her. Maybe she’d had a little too much to drink.
Heidi pushed against his firm chest muscles to right herself but let her fingers and gaze linger on his sleek skin. “Rafe has dark chest hair.”
“What did you say? I can’t hear you over the music,” the dancer said in a raised voice.
Funny, Heidi barely heard the music.
“She said, your chest turns her on,” Gigi yelled from behind her.
I did?
“Oh. Well, thanks.” The dancer resumed the hip-grinding dance the other women seemed to love. “Yours isn’t bad either.”
“Tip him.” Gigi urged her with an elbow in the small of Heidi’s back.
“Huh?” Heidi was still thinking about a chest with swirls of dark brown hair over tight muscles.
“Here.” Her friend shoved some crumpled bills into Heidi’s limp hand and then steered it toward the dancer’s gyrating G-string. Stupefied, Heidi watched her fingers approach what Gigi so lovingly referred to as “the guy’s package”. Seeming as distant as if it were playing on a movie screen rather than happening inches in front of her, Heidi watched her fingers tuck the money underneath the edge of the dancer’s satin pouch.
“Thanks.” His white teeth flashed a GQ smile.
“You’re welcome.” Dazed, Heidi watched him move on down the table to the woman Gigi’s brother would soon make his bride.
“See? Wasn’t that fun?”
Heidi turned to look at her friend, who was grinning like a mother who’d just watched her child go for her first pony ride. Heidi began laughing until tears formed, rooted in humor and sorrow.
“At least I know you love me,” she told Gigi as they embraced.
“Oh, that jackass loves you, too. He has for a long time. He’s just too much of an upstanding citizen to admit that he’s fallen for someone ten years younger.”
“Nine.” Heidi hiccupped. “And he doesn’t love me.” She sniffled. “And stop making him sound like he’s sixty.” Then she flopped down into her chair. Gigi sat down next to her, making them the only two women in the club not squealing and dancing.
“But you should have heard what he said. I’ve screwed everything up.” Heidi picked up her glass and did h
er best to drain it.
“Now answer me this, Heidi Callihan. Who knows more about men than anyone?”
“You do.” Heidi made a loud slurping sound with her straw at the bottom of the glass.
“Damn straight. Now I don’t care what Rafe said—although right now I’d like to clock the big jerk for making my best friend so damned miserable. But take it from me, the man’s crazy about you.”
Full of disbelief, Heidi looked at Gigi dancing in front of her. Although, how could she be dancing when they were both sitting down? “You really think he’s crazy about me?” She sniffled.
“I know so.” Gigi wrapped an arm around Heidi and hugged her again.
“I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.”
“Hey, I thought I was your best friend.”
“You know what I mean. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She reached for her glass again, only to find it empty.
“Now, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do,” Gigi said in a comforting voice. “We’re gonna stuff some more money in the skimpy underwear of perfectly sculpted men, and then you’re staying over at my place. Tomorrow we’ll figure out how you’re going push Rafe over the edge of his stuffy, Father-Knows-Best cliff.”
—
“Good morning, George,” Rafe said, not really meaning it. George Gilman had stepped out of his shiny green Ford Explorer just as Rafe unlocked and lifted the garage doors.
“Mornin’, Rafe,” George replied. “I know it’s not quite seven, but I wanted to be first in line.” The retired postal worker followed his car maintenance schedule to the letter, but today, it would be more of an inconvenience than a benefit. George always hung close to the service bay while “his baby” was being serviced.
“No problem, George. Heidi’s not here yet. Why don’t you go ahead and pull it in my side.” There goes my chance to talk to her about the other night, he thought.
“Morning, George,” Heidi said ten minutes later when she arrived. “Morning, Rafe,” she added, her smile wider than the broad side of a barn.
What’s she so damned happy about?
“Morning, Heidi,” George replied, drowning out Rafe’s half-hearted grumble. “I beat you both here this morning. I was just telling Rafe, Esther and I are driving down to her sister’s in Kentucky, so I wanted to get everything in tip-top shape.”
“If only all car owners were as conscientious as you are. Isn’t that right, Rafe?” Heidi said, her gaze steady on the Ford’s engine block. She was talking like nothing at all had happened between them.
Rafe wanted to kill her. He wanted to wring her little neck. He’d just slip his fingers inside the open collar of her shirt and around her slender neck, her warm skin, so soft, slipping her buttons free, cupping her breasts as he slipped into her warm, tight… Shit, what had started out as a strangulation fantasy had suddenly morphed into a grope-fest.
“I didn’t check the cash box. Do you need me to pick up some change?” Heidi asked, not even looking his way.
Rafe gave her a curt “No,” and before anyone noticed the hard-on he now sported, he headed to the storeroom. He stood in front of the shelves, already forgetting what he’d meant to retrieve, his pulse pounding with lingering fury and arousal.
After the fight they’d had, she should still be angry, or pouting, or…something. But she wasn’t. Just the opposite. She was acting like it had never happened. What had happened that could make her forget all about their argument? Or at least the reason for it. He knew he’d never be able to forget what had happened between them. Hell, he couldn’t sleep for thinking about it. Wanting it to happen again.
No. It can’t happen again. Rafe took a few slow, controlling breaths.
Where had she spent the weekend? Saturday night he’d waited for Heidi to come home, not dragging himself home to bed until five a.m. Then her phone went unanswered all day Sunday. He’d driven out to her place again at dusk, only to find it as it had been the evening before, dark and quiet. Had she spent the night with another guy? Who knows what she might have done in the temper she’d been in? His hands fisted. Just the idea of anyone else’s hands on Heidi made him insane.
Rafe had to know. In fact, he’d had a speech all ready. He wouldn’t lose his temper this time. He’d already hurt her enough; but he had to know who she’d been with. He’d be damned if he let some other guy use her.
The way he had.
Rafe clenched a fan belt and then turned toward the door. No, wait, this wasn’t what he needed.
Shit, she has me tied in so many knots I don’t know what I’m doing. Rafe took another deep breath and tossed the belt back into the box on the shelf. After a few seconds of intense concentration, he moved an old, unused oilcan spout to the top shelf so he could grab the filter he needed.
“We wondered what was taking you so long,” George said from his perch on an inverted oil drum when Rafe returned. “You got a girl tied up back there?”
The reference to bondage made Rafe shoot a look Heidi’s way, but she was rummaging in the tool cabinet and acted as if she hadn’t heard.
Anger and frustration had clever comebacks teetering on the tip of Rafe’s tongue. What kind of sick-o would tie somebody up? and Unlike some people, I’m not into bondage, or I don’t need to confine my women to get what I want. But knowing it was best not to start anything in front of George, Rafe forced a chuckle. Maybe he’d use one of those little beauties later when he and Heidi could speak privately.
Chapter Five
“Say, my new next-door neighbor’s been having some engine trouble,” George said. “I told him to bring his car over and you’d fix him up.”
“I appreciate the referral, George.” Rafe’s voiced echoed from under the hood.
“I didn’t realize anyone on your street moved away.” Heidi was glad to have the change of subject. George’s comment had hit a little too close to home. Heidi wasn’t sure how long she was going to be able to pull off this casual routine around Rafe.
“You didn’t hear about Liv Grummer moving over to one of those assisted-living apartments at Meadowview?”
Heidi had to let a few seconds pass as she replayed George’s question. Between the drool-inducing view of Rafe’s butt as he leaned over the Ford’s fender and the car battery she was replacing having so much corrosion it seemed cemented in place, it was difficult to follow the conversation. “Oh, yeah, now that you mention it, I did.”
“Nice young fella bought her place. Moved in week ago yesterday. He’s a high school teacher over in Newtown.”
“Hmm,” she replied. Although her hands chiseled away at blue-white buildup, in her mind they were gliding along the muscles of Rafe’s chest.
“Said he might swing by later.”
“Well, if he does, we’ll take good care of him,” she heard Rafe say.
—
Heidi smelled Calvin Klein’s Obsession a good five seconds before she saw Barbara. It was a good thing that George was long gone. The invisible cloud of perfume threatened to constrict her air passages, and she wasn’t a seventy-year-old man carrying forty extra pounds around. Heidi held her breath and plastered on a smile as the Black Widow swayed her way in the open garage door.
“There you are,” Barbara said, pointing one red-painted claw at Rafe. The Black Widow was dressed to kill in a burgundy leather miniskirt and matching vest. And of course, Heidi thought, she hadn’t bothered to layer a shirt underneath. Jeez, the woman had enough cleavage for five women.
Looking at the package Barbara presented, Heidi began to question the wisdom of this little plot twist. Gigi had insisted Heidi let Rafe compare her to the women in his age bracket, starting with Barbara Murillo. Hardened women more interested in securing their financial futures than holding out for true love. But seeing the Widow Murillo’s outfit, and how well it displayed her generous curves, Heidi wasn’t so sure their strategy was sound.
Rafe backed out from under the hood of Patty Olson’s Caravan.
�
��Barbara.” He looked at the woman like he was facing a firing squad.
“Now, don’t worry,” Barbara said, reaching him and patting his muscled chest. “Holly called and explained everything to me.” She turned her head toward Heidi and gave her a toothy smile.
Heidi mirrored one equally false.
“And just what did Holly tell you?” Rafe asked. He looked at Heidi for only a moment, his eyes burning a warning into hers. Then he looked back down at Barbara.
“She told me how the sheriff needed you to assist in the manhunt of some escaped felon named Attila. Holly said you’d had to leave the garage so quickly you’d asked her to call and let me know why you wouldn’t make it. She’d been so worried that you might be killed she forgot all about calling.” Barbara clung to his arm, forcing his elbow into her lush cleavage. “I didn’t know the sheriff involved civilians in manhunts. It all must have been very hush-hush. I didn’t hear anything about an escapee on the news.”
Heidi was still shocked that Barbara had bought the outrageous story. Although the woman was a conniving sleaze, she really must be as brainless as a tire iron.
“I just wanted you to know I’m not upset about you missing our date Friday night,” Barbara purred.
Heidi wiped off her socket and returned it to the cabinet, knowing now that Barbara was lying about their plans being categorized a date.
“I think you were so brave to put your life on the line, to insure the safety of people like myself and Tony Junior. Why, if an escaped criminal forced his way into my house, who knows what might happen?”