Chapter 20
By Thursday afternoon, Kitt was feeling more than slightly frustrated. She was also developing a strong desire to lay unfriendly hands on the scrawny cause of her immediate problems. Heaving book cartons out of her way with wild abandon, she stomped around the storeroom sorting out a huge UPS delivery and wishing vindictively that she could throw the heavy cartons right at the head of her pesky watcher.
She finally slumped down on a stack of boxes to catch her breath and rub her aching arm muscles. With a rueful grimace, she chided herself for getting so worked up in the first place. It really was rather stupid. After all, there was no question in either her mind or O'Mara's that they had overcome her fears and would be able to have a normal physical relationship—if one could call the strength and depth of their need for each other "normal." And if they had waited this long, surely another day or two wouldn't matter.
But it did. She'd wanted, expected, needed to be with him last night, and had spent half the evening in a state of heated anticipation, barely aware of all the comings and goings as O'Mara got things organized his way. Her mind was centered on being alone with him that night, all barriers gone, free to be naked and loving with him, learning how to please him, discovering at last the full measure of joy and ecstasy that he'd promised her. She'd wanted to sleep in his arms and awaken in the morning to find him beside her. Her eyes had savored the long, strong line of his back as he leaned forward talking to Eddie and Roger, and she'd thought about taking a shower with him and running soapy hands over that same back. As if he felt her eyes on him, he'd turned his head and captured her in that glinting blue gaze, a slow, sensual smile widening his mouth as he read her mind.
Damn! She kicked a carton of books in remembered frustration, and then pulled her foot up into her lap to rub her bruised toes through the soft suede of her ankle boots. For a fleeting moment, she wished it had been that aggravating man's shin she'd kicked. He knew, knew, what she'd been thinking about all evening and, if he was so damn clever, there must have been some way he could have worked things out so that they could have spent the night together. But, oh, no. She'd ended up with Midge again, plus Roger happily sprawled out in a sleeping bag in the living room playing guard dog, while her almost-mate took himself back to the Rock and that lovely big bed—alone! And all because of some nosy little twit.
Muttering unprintable imprecations, Kitt settled herself cross-legged on her stack of boxes and stewed. She knew she was letting her disappointment over the ending to the evening get out of proportion, but she'd built up such hopes and had assumed that O'Mara was just as eager as she was to end the waiting. Well, to be fair, he probably was. And in a way, she could understand why he had decided to wait until they'd solved their little mystery. It would be a distraction to have to keep one ear cocked for lockpickers or be worrying about the cops checking in periodically or calling with news. But still—
"Kitt! What the hell is the matter with you? Are you sick?"
Ez's bellow jerked her back to the present, literally, as she jumped and whacked her head against the wall.
"Ow! You great oaf, what are you trying to do—scare me witless? And what are you doing here, anyway? It's only Thursday," she snapped crossly, rubbing the back of her head. "I wasn't sick until you came roaring in here. Now I've got a headache. Pea-brain!"
"What am I supposed to think? Midge says you're back here unpacking books, and I find you sitting there, rocking back and forth and muttering to yourself like a demented Buddhess."
"There's no such thing as a Buddhess," growled Kitt with a decidedly unfriendly scowl.
"Don't nitpick. Why are you in such a rotten mood? You can't be that worried about this idiot housebreaker. He sounds like a total twerp. Even Midge could probably take him with one hand." He stared at her consideringly, and then said in a disgusted voice, "O'Mara! If that man doesn't do something about you soon, I'm damn well going to lock you in a cold shower!"
Kitt jumped to her feet and stood, hands on hips and chin jutting out, spitting like a cat. "If you're implying that I'm... oh, you... well, I'm not... and besides, he's already doing something... NO! I mean, he just... we only... STOP LAUGHING, YOU GREAT GORMLESS GOAT!" yelled Kitt, stamping her size-nine boot down within an inch of his toes.
"Hey, you two, if you're going to have a knock-down rip-snorter, how about going out back? You're making the customers nervous. At least, the ones who aren't laughing." An exasperated Midge stood in the doorway, head tilted back as she glared up at them.
The twins blinked, shook their heads, looked down at Midge and then grinned at each other. In unison, they bent over the small figure, each of them patting one of her shoulders and kissing a cheek.
"Now, now," Kitt crooned, "everything's just fine."
"Don't fash yourself," Ez rumbled. "We never fight."
Midge looked from one to the other and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "You are both," she said emphatically, "noodles."
Clasping his big hands around her waist, Ez picked her up and held her at arm's length. "While you, me wee small elf, are mizzy-mazed," he announced in an atrocious attempt at an Irish brogue.
Laughing, Kitt backed out the door. "Ah... if you two would like to say a proper hello or whatever, I'll help Joanne mind the shop for a while."
"You'd better clean up first. You look like you've been sweeping chimneys," Ez said absently as he lowered Midge to stand on a carton and wrapped his brawny arms around her small body. Kitt tactfully closed the door before going along to the lavatory to wash up and brush her hair to reasonable neatness.
Joining Joanne behind the desk a few minutes later, she asked quietly, "Did Ez happen to mention what he was doing here a day early?"
Joanne glanced up at the taller woman with a decidedly guilty look, and finally mumbled, "Midge called him early Tuesday morning, and he... I, ah, think he got somebody to cover for him so he could come up as soon as possible. Well, not knowing exactly when Mr. O'Mara would be back and... Well, I think he was worried about your being here alone."
Kitt quirked a sardonic eyebrow at the fidgeting girl and drawled, "Alone? Tell me five consecutive minutes that I've been alone since Monday night. If I haven't had someone at my shoulder, I've had them outside the door or at the bottom of the stairs. Drat! I told her— Oh, well, I should have known she'd call him."
"What's funny?" asked a bewildered Joanne as Kitt started to laugh.
"I could almost feel sorry for that poor little man. Can you imagine having both Ez and O'Mara after you, mad as hell and ready to commit mayhem?"
"They didn't look all that mad," Joanne tentatively offered. "I mean, when Mr. O'Mara was here earlier, he seemed very calm and cool about it. He was joking with everyone and teasing Midge and me."
"Yeah. Well, let me warn you, Joanne, with men like Ez and O'Mara, the time to watch out is when they're really working at being cool and calm and they're smiling with their teeth clamped together. I'd give odds that Ez was one of the calls O'Mara said he had to make last night." Kitt stared contemplatively at a Beatrix Potter poster and said thoughtfully, "Now what, I wonder, have those two hatched up?"
"We haven't been hatching up anything," protested Midge, coming up to lean against the other side of the desk and looking rather moony-eyed and a bit disheveled.
Eyes gleaming with understanding amusement, Kitt explained, "Not you. Ez and O'Mara." She glanced at the ceiling, listening to the resounding footsteps of her twin. "Do you know what they're brewing up?"
"Uh-uh. Not me. Ez just told me to keep my tail tucked down. Is that significant?"
Kitt flung her hands up in a "Who knows?" gesture. "It depends on what they're planning to toss around— blasphemy, bull or bodies. Macho males and their mysterious plotting! Honestly! They don't act any older than Gus sometimes. Why make a big intrigue out of this? They could damn well tell us what's going on."
Midge and Joanne exchanged knowing looks as Kitt banged a frustrated fist down on the desk, he
r flushed cheeks and flashing eyes indicating a rare display of temper. Neither of the younger women was aware that most of her mini-tantrum was due to her disappointment of the previous evening.
"I'm sure they'll let us in on it sooner or later," Midge said placatingly, prudently backing out of arm's reach as Kitt cast a menacing glare in her direction.
The rather pithy comment on the tip of Kitt's tongue stayed there when the thud of large feet descending the stairs heralded Ez's appearance. His casual attire of jeans and T-shirt was set off by the copper and white of Hero, draped around his neck like a living scarf and riding comfortably on his broad shoulders.
"Where do you think you're going?" demanded an irate Kitt. "Now that I've got all that muscle power available, I mean to make use of it to heave those book cartons out of our way."
Dropping a casual arm around Midge's shoulders, Ez leaned against the desk and gave his disgruntled twin a long, considering look. Joanne unobtrusively sidled away and started clearing off the reading table, staying well out of range of any potential fireworks.
Slowly shaking his head, Ez bent toward Midge and whispered thunderously, "This is all O'Mara's fault, you know. If I ever saw a woman who needed to be—"
"It's HIM!" Joanne hissed frantically.
"Where?"
"Who?" The other three crowded around her where she stood frozen by the reading table, staring out the window.
"Across the street in front of Sea Wrack's window. See him? The skinny guy with his back turned? Blue jeans and a red T-shirt? That's him."
"Are you sure?" Ez demanded. "Midge?"
"I... I think so. I'd have to see his face to be sure."
"I saw his face before he turned all the way around," Joanne said. "It's the same guy who was in here. Oh! Watch! He's turning again."
Ez moved a couple of steps closer to the window, his eyes glued to the thin figure idling in front of the gift shop.
"Damn! Someone's coming in," Midge cried.
"Spread out," Kitt said. "We can't all be standing here like this."
Ez spun around and started for the stairs, grabbing Midge's hand and towing her along with him. "Joanne, keep working at that table, but keep an eye on him for a few minutes. If he leaves, try to see where he goes. Kitt, take care of the customer and stay away from the window."
"Where are you two going?"
"Midge'll watch him from your room while I call O'Mara. We've got to find out what he's driving if he's dropped the red Toyota."
"Ez—" Kitt ground her teeth together as Ez and Midge raced up the stairs. For the next ten minutes, she discussed cookbooks and valiantly kept a friendly smile on her face. She left her customer trying to make up her mind between French, Italian and Chinese cuisine, and strolled over to join Joanne.
"Is he still there?" she whispered, keeping her back to the window.
"Not outside," answered Joanne in a low voice. "He went into the shop a couple of minutes ago."
"I can't stand this," Kitt hissed. "When she decides what she wants, take care of her, will you? I'm going upstairs to find out what Ez and O'Mara are plotting now."
Kitt's long legs easily took the stairs two at a time and, when she found the living room empty, carried her swiftly down the hall to her bedroom, where she discovered an intent Midge staring out the window at the shop across the street.
"Where's Ez?" Kitt asked tautly, glancing around the room and finding only Hero sprawled on her bed.
Midge eyed her warily and carefully explained. "He went to meet O'Mara out of sight of the shop. He... ah... said he didn't want to waste time answering questions, so he dropped off the back of the deck, cut through the backyard to the river and whistled one of the boatmen over to take him up to the landing."
"I hope he grows warts in his ears!" Kitt seethed. "I hope they both do!"
"Oh, Kitt, you know they won't take you with them," Midge protested. "Ez said you'd have a frothing fit at being left out of things, but he and O'Mara can't be sure if there's just this one guy, and they aren't about to let you take any chances on getting hurt. Come on, now, and calm down. They mostly want to find out what car he's driving and maybe where he's staying. Ez said they'd be back for supper. In fact, they're bringing it with them. Lobster, I think."
"Feed the beast and soothe her ruffled feathers?" Kitt asked sweetly.
Midge choked back a gurgle of laughter, taking her gaze off the gift shop long enough to give Kitt a teasing look. "What kind of beast has feathers?"
"A flying dragon?" Kitt sighed in exasperation and then started to smile. "Oh, all right. So I'll wait until the big macho males come back, thumping their chests and twitching their tails in triumph. Yuck! I still don't see why we have to camp up here, protected like some fragile Victorian maidens." She flopped across the bed on her stomach, reaching over to scratch Hero behind the ears. "Oh, stop laughing, you pea-sized pixie."
"It's too funny," Midge gasped. "I saw O'Mara kissing you goodnight last night, and he sure wasn't acting as if you were anything like fragile. If Ez hugged me like that, I'd have half a dozen broken ribs and two collapsed lungs!"
"Er... ah, yes... well, we, ah, got a bit carried away and... he, um, may have a few bruises, too." Kitt struggled to maintain a blasé look, but spoiled it by blushing a deep pink under Midge's knowing gaze.
"I wouldn't be surprised. You two are something else again, you know. I can almost hear the crackle of flames when you look at each other, to say nothing of—Hey! He's leaving!" Midge edged closer to the big bay window, staying behind the thick foliage of a huge Swedish Ivy plant and peering through a gap in the leaves.
"Where's he going?" Kitt scrambled off the bed to stand behind Midge and look out over the top of the plant. "Do you see Ez or O'Mara?"
"No, but they'd stay out of sight anyway. He's heading for the square. See him? He's just in front of those two blondes."
"I see him. But where— Oh, my, how sneaky!"
"What?"
"Look. On the far side of the gas station. See that gray Mustang? That's Andy's car, and that's O'Mara slouched in the driver's seat."
"Are you sure, Kitt? It doesn't look like him."
"I'd know him even with that silly cap pulled down over his eyes. Clever. Chances are the guy wouldn't know Andy's car well enough to spot it. It doesn't exactly stand out like the Mercedes or the Renegade."
"Especially parked in with those other cars. Oh, look, there's Ez!" Midge pushed the ivy aside and leaned into the bay. "Now I see what they're doing. Ez is following him, but staying back out of sight and watching O'Mara for signals. Hey, he must be going for his car. O'Mara just beckoned Ez over."
"I see them. They're going to follow him. Damn. Surely, they've got sense enough not to try to take him in the middle of the afternoon with all the world looking on."
Midge glanced down into the parking lot as she stepped back from the window. "Looks like Joanne might have her hands full. Maybe we'd better go downstairs," she suggested tentatively. "There's not much else we can do until they get back."
Kitt stuck her lower lip out and summoned up a glower. "I could always stomp around and throw things at the walls," she threatened, and then broke up in laughter at Midge's alarmed expression. "Never mind me. It's that aggravating man who's put me in a temper, and it's up to him to get me out of it."
Not for a moment did Midge imagine that Kitt was referring to Ez.
The rest of the afternoon flew by with a steady stream of customers keeping the three women busy. Shortly before closing, Kitt heard the thudding of male feet running up the outside stairs, followed by the sound of footsteps and male laughter overhead. Impatient for news, she rushed everyone through the closing and then raced Midge for the stairs.
"Whoa, love!" O'Mara halted her headlong dash across the living room by stretching out a long arm and grabbing her wrist, giving it a strong tug that tumbled her down on top of him where he lay sprawled full-length on the sofa. He laughed up into her indignant face while his st
rong hands shifted her into a comfortable position against him.
"Your temper's showing, tiger lady," he teased. "Be a good Kitt-cat now and take your elbows out of my ribs."
Her glare gradually changed to a smoky blue invitation as he slowly stroked his hands down her back and across her bottom, his supple fingers lingering to knead her firm buttocks. With a throaty, "Mmmmmm," she slid her arms around his neck and brought her mouth down on his. Her hair spilled forward around their faces in a chestnut curtain as her light, teasing kiss rapidly deepened to passion when his urgent hands ground her hips against his and he shifted to bring a hard thigh up between her legs.
The intrusive sounds from the kitchen brought them back to a belated sense of time and place. Midge's outraged squeal of "Ez!" and his answering roar of laughter effectively broke the sensual spell that Kitt and O'Mara were weaving around each other, and she lifted her head to look down into his flushed face with dazed eyes.
"This was not one of my better ideas," he said ruefully. "We're not safe together in public—at least, not at the moment." He brought one hand up to push her head down beside his and whispered in her ear. "You were right. All that abstinence wasn't good for me. Now that I can hold you, I can't keep my hands off of you." He gently nipped her earlobe, and she could hear laughter in his voice as he added, "And you're no help, love, melting all over me every time I touch you."
She pressed her open mouth against his neck and traced moist circles with her tongue before teasing, "You don't like it?"
"Mmmmm. I love it. So much so that we are definitely going to get off this couch while you've still got your clothes on."
Reluctantly, they untangled themselves and sat up. He finger-combed her hair back into reasonable order while she tugged her cotton-knit shirt into place. His abstracted gaze followed the motions of her hands and then lingered on her breasts and the hard jut of her nipples pressing against the fabric. She groaned and leaned toward him as his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs lightly stroking the taut nipples.
Damon, Lee Page 30