He did follow through with her suggestion, though. After Alana took her last sip of champagne they went over to the booth and found it empty. They attempted to sit on the bench but his long legs took up most of the room so she sat on his lap. Her perfume was as sweet and captivating as she was and as she closed the curtain he inhaled the fragrant essence that was one part Chanel No. 5 and three parts Alana.
The camera clicked as they smiled into the lens and made funny faces. She closed her eyes and planted a big smacking kiss on his cheek, which he returned. Their eyes met and by an unspoken mutual consent their lips touched softly and deliberately before merging into a powerful kiss. Roland was right; her lips were like fragrant plums dipped in champagne and the taste released a powerful longing in him. Their tongues mated and lingered, stoking the growing fire between them.
Alana’s arms went around his neck and he pulled her closer to him, crushing her soft breasts against his rock-hard chest. His hands slid down to her slim hips and she pressed against him harder as one slim hand stroked his smoothly shaven head. It could have gone on and on but the curtain was suddenly pushed aside by two smirking women, Pamela and Ava.
“I told you they were in here,” Pamela gloated.
“You two should probably get a room somewhere,” Ava advised. “There are children and old people here, you know. You could give somebody a heart attack.”
“I should have known you would find each other,” Alana said with a resigned expression. “Aren’t there some interesting men out there for you to torture?”
Pamela grinned and said, “Yes, there are, but this is more fun. How much will you pay me to keep these pictures off of Facebook?” She was reaching for the photo strips when Roland grabbed her wrist firmly.
“I’ll let you live, how’s that?” He gave her the expression that she knew meant business and since Alana was giving Ava a similar look, they decided to leave.
“We can go spread gossip, that’s almost as good,” Pam said pragmatically.
Roland and Alana looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Is there any lipstick on my mouth?” he asked.
Alana assured him there wasn’t. “This is the non-smear, perma-shine kind. No smears, I promise.”
“Well, in that case, I think we need to finish what we started,” he murmured, just before his mouth joined hers for one more mindlessly sweet kiss.
Chapter 2
The morning after the wedding found Alana in a mood that most charitably could be described as foul.
Her head was pounding from all the bubbly Moet she’d had at the reception and she wanted nothing more than to be alone for the rest of the day and possibly her life. Sitting up in her bed seemed to take all of her energy and she groaned loudly and with great pain. It was going to be a miserable day.
Only a few drinks in her system, and she could barely remember what she’d done the night before. Compounding that was the fact that she’d had an array of dreams that were blazingly hot, featuring Roland Casey as her partner in every kind of erotic crime imaginable. Why in the world she’d managed to conjure the two of them, naked, sweaty and tightly entwined the way she had was just beyond her. There were some mental puzzle pieces missing, but her head hurt too badly for her to figure it out at the moment.
After her eyelids finally came unglued, she squinted around her bedroom, trying to figure out where her robe was. Since her sister Adrienne was staying with her, she tried to do it as quietly as possible, although it was so late that Adrienne was probably awake. Alana was in no shape to converse with anyone, however, and she was aiming for total stealth at the moment.
She managed to find the robe and her slippers and she staggered into the bathroom, hoping that a blast of hot water on her face would bring her back to the land of the living.
The shower was a mixed blessing because her head was throbbing so hard that the stream of water was actually quite painful, but she clenched her teeth and hung in there, scrubbing her body mercilessly with a nylon puff and a huge amount of Au Lait body wash.
The mild, clean scent gradually soothed her senses until she was at least able to move her neck without wincing. While she moved the puff up and down her body she tried to recreate the evening, hoping that there was a reasonable explanation for her steamy dreams and her deep sense of embarrassment. Maybe she had an alter-ego like Beyonce, she thought mirthlessly. Maybe her personal Sasha Fierce had taken over her dreams last night because it sure wasn’t the real Alana. With a sigh that came from the depths of her being, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a big soft towel before putting the robe on again.
Adrienne was probably up and moving around because the thermostat had been turned up and the house was no longer chilly. She could also smell her favorite morning aroma, coffee. God bless her, Adrienne knew the only thing that would help her headache was a large cup of joe. Maybe the whole pot.
Alana made a detour through the living room on her way to the kitchen and found her shoes, which had been left by the front door. She also found the attachment to her gown, the rest of her dress, her purse, her jewelry and everything else she’d worn that she’d apparently tossed this way and that as she’d staggered into the house. That must have been some striptease she’d done on the way to the bed.
Hauling everything into the bedroom, she was about to pile her clothes onto the window seat, but it was already occupied by Adrienne, who was holding a large mug out to her.
“Just toss ’em on the bed, Sissie. Let’s talk,” Adrienne said brightly. “Sissie” was the name Adrienne had called her from the time she was first able to talk.
Alana dropped the clothes and reached for the mug, which her sister pulled away. “Not a chance, not until you agree to talk to me.”
“Fine, whatever, just give me that coffee and tell me what’s on your mind.”
“You’re on my mind, sweetie. I’m concerned about you,” Adrienne said, her eyebrows raised slightly. “I thought you could use a listening ear.”
Alana took another long swallow and stared into the mug like it was a Magic 8-Ball or some other kind of oracle. “Did I do something stupid last night that I don’t recall?”
“No, you were actually behaving like the Alana that I’ve always loved and admired and tried to emulate. You’ve been my role model since the day I was born. We practically shared the same womb,” Adrienne said with a grin.
It was true; Alana and Adrienne were born only ten months apart, and were as close as twins in a lot of ways, even physically, although Adrienne was a lot more bohemian than Alana. Alana’s style tended to be more classic while her younger sister wore avant-garde garb of her own design. She was a much sought-after costume designer in Hollywood and she looked the part.
Alana’s relaxed hair was worn in a sleek shoulder-length bob, while Adrienne’s hair was worn in wild spiraling curls. She also wore glasses because she couldn’t be bothered with contact lenses, and she always managed to find stunningly fashionable ones that showed off her eyes instead of hiding them.
The sisters were the same height and size, although Adrienne was heavier now that she was entering the second trimester of her pregnancy. She’d thought she was pregnant back in February when Alexis got married, but it had been a false alarm. This time it was the real deal. She was definitely with child, a child she was sure was a boy, even before the ultrasound had proved her to be correct.
“Why in the world would you want to be like me? I’m completely and totally boring. I think your hormones are making you a little crazy,” Alana said as she put the mug on her nightstand. She picked up a bottle of Au Lait body lotion and began applying it to her legs before continuing.
“You’re avoiding my question,” she said sternly. “What did I do last night? I’m having a problem remembering some details, like how my clothes got strewn all o
ver the living room.”
“You didn’t do anything scandalous, if that’s what you mean. You were a little frisky, no doubt due to the amount of champagne you had, but all you did was dance a lot. And you took some cute pictures with Roland.”
“Cute pictures? What cute pictures?” Alana demanded as she took off her robe to finish putting on lotion.
Adrienne gladly handed her the strips from the photo booth and sat back to watch her reaction. She didn’t have long to wait as Alana’s cheeks turned red and her eyes got huge.
“Good Lord. I forgot all about these,” she mumbled. “Was I drunk or what? How did I get home? Did I make a fool out of myself?”
Adrienne laughed at the look on her sister’s face. “I brought you home because Roland took his parents back to the hotel. On the way home you started singing and you kept on singing when we got to the house. Then you started dancing through the living room, tossing your clothes. It was pretty cute. Actually, you were singing ‘I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas’ and it was hilarious.”
Alana made a scornful noise and continued her grooming routine, putting body butter on her feet, elbows and knees. “You’re just making things up to get on my nerves. I don’t remember doing anything of the kind. I had a little to drink but not that much. I certainly would’ve remembered a performance like that,” she said haughtily. Holding her towel tightly, she went into her walk-in closet and emerged wearing a lacy pink bra and matching thong.
Adrienne was waiting for her, holding out her smartphone. Alana leaned over to get a good look at it and squealed when she saw the video playing on the screen. There she was in all her giddy glory, singing loud and off-key as her clothes went flying.
“How do you delete this?” Alana turned the phone over and over, examining all the buttons. “If this ends up on your Facebook page, I’ll get you,” she vowed.
“I was thinking more like YouTube,” Adrienne teased. “Or that funny video show on TV. We could make some money, honey.”
Alana tossed the phone to her unrepentant sister and went back to the closet for jeans and a sweater. Adrienne continued to talk to her while she dressed.
“You didn’t do anything really crazy last night. You were acting like a normal, happy, sexy woman. I love these photo booth pictures because they’re you, the real you. I was so happy to see you dancing through the house last night without a care in the world because that’s how you should be. There’s nothing wrong with being with a delicious man who’s obviously interested in you. I haven’t seen you like this since...” Her voice trailed away for a moment and then she finished. “Since Sam died. You deserve to start living again, Sissie.”
Alana picked up her mug and drained the rest of her coffee, which was now stone-cold and tasted like prune juice. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry? C’mon, I’ll make you some breakfast,” she said as she abruptly left the room.
Adrienne sighed deeply as she watched her sister depart, but in seconds she was right on her heels. She found her in the kitchen staring into the refrigerator. “I already made some scones, all you have to do is make an omelet if you feel up to it,” she said hopefully.
“Sure, no problem. Are you eating meat these days or what?”
“If it’s smaller than me and can’t get away, I’ll devour it, whatever it is. I’m gonna be as big as a house in a few weeks,” Adrienne said as she rubbed her still-tiny belly.
Alana emerged from the refrigerator with eggs, cream, cheese, scallions, mushrooms and sausage. “Can you get me a red pepper and that package of bacon, please?”
“Only if you talk to me,” Adrienne said, but she opened the door to get the items. “You can’t shut me out because you know I’ll wear you down.”
Alana busied herself chopping and slicing and getting out the skillets. Her kitchen was large, orderly and well-stocked; it looked like a place where a person could get some serious cooking done. To forestall a spate of wheedling from her persistent sister, she began talking as she put the sausage on to brown.
“Look, Adrienne, there’s nothing to talk about, really. Nothing much has changed around here. I’m still working hard and that’s about it. If you want to talk about changes, Alexis is your girl. She’s the newlywed and the expectant mother. And you’ve got your own little bun in the oven. Isn’t that enough of a change for you?”
Adrienne reached for a piece of the bright red sweet pepper before answering. “We can talk about me anytime. I want to know how you’re doing. I know how hard the holidays are for you, that’s why you always come out to California to stay with me, or you go to New York to stay with Aunt BeBe. But since we’re both here you won’t be able to hide out like you usually do. Don’t you think we should talk about that?”
Alana cracked the eggs on the side of the glass bowl with amazing accuracy and a bit more force than normal. She poured in some cream and shook in salt, pepper and paprika before picking up the whisk and beating them into a fluffy froth.
It was true; Alana had a lot of difficulty with the holidays these days. Ever since her husband had died the week before Christmas, all she could think about at this time of year was losing the love of her life.
It was so unfair; it was so wrong that he’d died so young. There were times when she knew deep in her soul that she was doomed to be alone forever. No one could ever take his place in her heart or her life and that was just the way it was going to be. She’d be a lonely widow for the rest of her life and spend all her time and money doting on the nieces and nephews she was sure to accumulate.
With three younger sisters and several sister-friends, she knew that she’d be blessed with many children in her life one way or the other. Giving herself a sharp mental kick in the head, she forced herself to focus on the here and now and to stop being neurotic. Alana had no patience with weak and whiny people, and she wasn’t about to turn into one herself, especially now.
She always pretended that everything was well in her world, but it was really hard to keep up the façade in the middle of all the celebrating. Her family was big on Christmas and she just didn’t have it in her to celebrate anymore. It was easier to head for sunny California and hide out with Adrienne because her younger sister understood the situation better than anyone else. But this year Adrienne was here in Columbia and she had no reason to hide out in LA. Nor could she take refuge in New York with her mother’s sister who was her other haven in the storm of emotions that arose every Christmas.
She did, however, have a way of deflecting her sister’s interrogation by changing the subject to Adrienne’s situation, which she did.
“Do you mind setting the table for us? These will be finished in about two minutes. And I think a much better topic for us to discuss is my future nephew that you’re carrying. This is going to mean some big changes for you,” Alana reminded her sister. “Are you ready for this new life?”
Adrienne smiled as she assembled the plates and silverware to lay out on the table. “This wasn’t what I thought was going to happen, that’s for sure. But yes, I’m ready. I have a new life inside me and since the original scenario didn’t play out as planned, I’ve switched to plan B and I’m very cool with it.”
“You’re a better woman than I am, then. Because I’d be lining up lawyers from here to Timbuktu,” Alana said with a frown as she expertly flipped a plump, golden omelet and slid it onto the plate that Adrienne handed her. “You agreed to be a surrogate mother to help out your friend Sierra and then she and her husband up and get divorced. Now neither one of them wants the baby and you’re left holding the diaper bag. And you’re okay with that?”
Adrienne shrugged as she buttered a scone. “I was remarkably naive and way too eager to play fairy godmother, no pun intended. But the baby didn’t ask for any of this and I owe it to him to be a good, stable mother. And to be totally honest I was kinda getting baby fever anyway,” she admitted.
“I was making goo-goo eyes at every baby I saw and dreaming about being pregnant night after night. My biological clock was going tick-tick-tick and despite the circumstances, I’m quite happy about becoming a mom. It was obviously meant to be,” she said calmly.
Alana raised her eyebrows and stared at Adrienne. She was sitting across the table in the sunny kitchen looking as though she didn’t have a care in the world while she was carrying a baby that wasn’t hers. Adrienne had always been the laid-back sister with the most open-minded outlook on life, but to be so accepting and cheerful in the midst of all this potential drama bordered on the unbelievable. Adrienne read her thoughts as usual and gave her a cheeky grin.
“Don’t try to understand me, just love me. I’m very happy. I have a ton of money saved from the last two movies I did and I have full medical insurance. When my stuff gets here from LA, I’m going to move into Alexis’s house and gestate until my little boy is born. I’ve got this, Sissie. Don’t worry about me.”
Alana sipped her second giant mug of coffee as she studied her sister’s pretty face, which was completely serene. She was so absorbed in her examination that she almost missed Adrienne’s next words.
“So that’s enough deflection for the morning. Let’s get back to you,” she said, pointing at Alana with a piece of scone. “You can’t make your annual yuletide trip to see me in Cali since I’m right here underfoot. You also can’t hide out in New York with Aunt BeBe, because she’s here, too. I think it’s a sign that you need to do something completely different this year. This is the year that you cleanse all the angst and regret from your soul and begin to live again. I suggest you start with that hot hunk Roland Casey. He really likes you, Sissie. I had a dream about you two last night and it revealed to me that he’s your soul mate,” she confided.
A giant spew of coffee across the table was Alana’s response, followed by coughing and sputtering as she wiped her mouth with her cloth napkin and then began wiping up the spray of coffee.
Let Me Hold You Page 2