Maybe that was the way Serenity would be saved. One apartment, one house, one building at a time.
Cassie took the last of the hangers from him, sending into the air a faint whiff of her fragrance, and sorted them onto the closet rod, shirts on one side, skirts opposite and dresses in the middle. Though she was wearing jeans today, she didn’t often. He’d noticed only one pair in the pile of clothing. Mostly there were long skirts, some loose enough to wrap around her slender waist three times, others fitted to the curve of her hips and her legs. The dresses were loose and long, perfectly suitable for sitting in a kid-size chair or for getting down on the floor with thirteen rambunctious students.
His hands empty, he turned away from the closet and went into the living room to wait. Again the size and shape were identical to his own, but the similarities ended there. His walls were faded institutional green, his curtains some sort of patterned gold. He remembered seeing them in the front windows on his very first day on Serenity, when Meghan had walked him down the street on their way to her mother’s building and she had pointed out the place. “O’Shea’s. That’s your father,” she had said matter-of-factly, and he had looked to see a dilapidated building and ugly gold curtains at every window. He hadn’t looked in the open doors below those windows, hadn’t made any effort at all to see inside to the man who he’d been taught since infancy was responsible for all their troubles.
His smile was faintly bitter. After a while, blaming Jamey must have lost its appeal for Meghan. By the time he’d turned ten, it had shifted to him. He was at fault for everything that had gone wrong in Meghan’s life. If she’d never gotten pregnant, if she’d never married Jamey, if she’d never had a baby, if she’d never been saddled with such responsibility... She had managed to look past her own role in all her complaints and lay the blame squarely on him.
“I’ll be ready in just a minute,” Cassie called from the bedroom. Her words were followed by the tearing of plastic, then the sharp flap of sheets being shaken out. She was making the bed, and damned if he didn’t want to offer to help. He didn’t, though. No way was he going to touch her sheets and comforter. No way was he going to stand across from her with only the bed between them and help spread the sheets that she would be sleeping on tonight or stuff into cases the pillows where she would lay her head or smooth out the comforter that would cover her. No way in hell was he going to learn the feel and smell of her bed and linens.
“I’ll wait downstairs,” he said abruptly, hearing the tension that made his voice edgy. If she noticed or thought his abrupt departure odd, she didn’t comment.
Leaving the door open, he took the stairs two at a time. Jamey was talking to old Thomas, but Reid felt his gaze as he passed between tables and went through the nearest set of doors. He hadn’t escaped, though. In fact, he just might have been better off if he had stayed upstairs getting hard and hot for Cassie.
“Hey, sugar. Haven’t seen you in a long time.” The words were greeting, admonishment and pout all wrapped up together as Tanya strolled across the uneven sidewalk and right up to him, so close that he could feel her breath on his chin. “You’ve been keeping busy.”
“Tanya.” With his hands on her shoulders, he tried to back her up. When she didn’t budge, he tried to back away, but the wall was at his back.
“I’ve missed you, darlin’,” she murmured, wriggling even closer, raising her hands to his chest. “Have you missed me?”
He gazed down at her as if for the first time. There was a brittle air about her that he’d never noticed before, as if the toughness she wore was pretense that could be easily shattered.
She had flaws, but all in all, she was pretty. Her black hair was overstyled and heavily sprayed, and her makeup could use a lighter touch. The hazel eyes were nice, though, and her mouth was made for smiting—as well as other, less innocent activities. She wore a tight skirt only inches long from waist to hem and a sheer shirt with the skimpiest of bras underneath, chosen to play up her sexuality. She considered herself a very sexual. being, not because she enjoyed the act so much but because she thought that was all she had to offer. Smart women had brains, rich women had money, nice women had personality and Tanya had sex. It was the only thing, in her opinion, that she did well, the only reason any man might want her.
“Yeah,” he answered at last. “I’ve missed you.” But he lied. He missed having sex with her. He missed her talented mouth, her soft, willing body and her eagerness to please, but he didn’t miss her. That fact saddened him.
“We can do something about that, darlin’. I’m not busy right now. Why don’t we go upstairs to your new place and...?” Taking the final step that brought her body into contact with his, she rose onto her toes to whisper in his ear, tantalizing words of sweet pleasure and satisfaction to die for, promising him everything when he could offer her nothing. She wanted some sort of connection, an hour or two when she didn’t have to be alone, when she could forget all the problems in her life and be touched, held, kissed, but all he could give was sex. Meaningless, sordid, the purely physical release of desire created by someone else. He was one of those men who wanted her only for sex, and he felt like a bastard for it.
But when she traded words for kisses and rubbed seductively against him, all that self-disgust did nothing to suppress his body’s response. For one guilty moment, he let himself enjoy the sensations before, with unsteady hands, he gently, firmly, pushed her away. She smiled, her eyes hazy. “Yeah,” she agreed in a breathy voice to what she perceived as an unspoken invitation. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll—”
He caught her hand as she reached for the waistband of his jeans. “Listen, Tanya, I—”
“Oh, come on, Reid,” she coaxed, and another voice from a dozen feet away echoed the sentiment.
“Yeah, go on, Reid.”
He moved away from Tanya with such haste that he almost tripped over his own feet. His lack of grace amused one woman. It didn’t have any effect at all on the stony expression of the other. His face burned as hot as if he’d been caught in some illicit behavior—or, worse, some sort of betrayal. But that was impossible. There was no relationship between him and Cassie to betray. Hadn’t he acknowledged just this morning that they weren’t even friends?
But that knowledge did nothing to ease his embarrassment.
Before he could think of anything to say, Tanya fixed her attention on Cassie. On ridiculously high heels, she crossed the sidewalk to where Cassie waited beside the Blazer and gave the other woman a long, measuring look. “You must be the new schoolteacher, Miss Cassie. My niece Starr is in your class. She talks about you all the time.”
Cassie’s expression lost its tight-lipped mockery. “She’s a bright girl.”
“Yes, she is. I’ve got bigger plans for her than Serenity. She’s gonna be the first Stanford to make something of herself.”
“I’ll do my best to help with that.”
“I’m sure you will.” After a moment, Tanya returned to Reid, stopped close again and used one red-tipped thumb to wipe away traces of lipstick from his jaw. “All you had to say was no,” she said in a quietly chiding voice. “My feelings wouldn’t have been hurt.” She offered him a smile as proof, then turned and strolled away. Before she’d gone far, though, she looked back over her shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you around, darlin’. You, too, Miss Cassie.”
There was a phrase years ago used to describe particularly sexy young women like Tanya, but standing there on the sidewalk and watching her go, Cassie felt relatively sure that it needed updating in this case. Sex kitten just sounded entirely too harmless, and Tanya Stanford was anything but harmless. Sex tigress was much more appropriate.
And if she was a tigress, what did that make Cassie? A timid little mouse?
Pulling her keys from her pocket, she scowled at Reid. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I’d interrupted mating time.”
The snide edge to her voice brought back the heat that had started to recede from his face. He s
hould be embarrassed, she thought with petty satisfaction as she circled the truck and climbed in behind the wheel. It was the middle of the day and there were people in the bar right behind where they’d stood, and his little girlfriend had been about to climb right on top of him right there on the sidewalk. She didn’t know why it had surprised her. She’d seen him and Tanya in heat before, getting up close and personal in public. He hadn’t complained then, and he certainly hadn’t been complaining just now.
She had been surprised, she admitted as she started the engine, because she’d thought he was no longer seeing the other woman. She’d been under the mistaken assumption that he’d broken his ties with all the people he had once run wild with. She had thought... The strength of her ego brought a blush to her own cheeks. She had thought that he was interested in her. She had thought that the attraction she felt was too powerful to be one-sided, that no matter how well he hid it, he felt it, too.
But it seemed she’d been wrong.
Down the block, Tanya crossed the street to the house where Cassie had once lived. Even from this distance, it was easy to see that she moved with such grace, as if she was thoroughly comfortable with her body, her sexuality and her effect on men. If she’d lived anywhere else, Cassie would have thought such poise came from breeding or, more mundanely, from years of dance. But Tanya didn’t live anywhere else. She lived on Serenity, and the grace came from confidence.
One day Cassie would like to have such sexually charged confidence.
With a sigh, she pressed the button to roll down the opposite window and ducked her head so she could see Reid. “The dresser I have to get from my mother’s is relatively light. She and I can handle it on our own if you don’t want to go.”
His gaze narrowed into a look of pure annoyance. “If you don’t want me to go, at least be honest enough to say so.”
Her temper straining to break free, she leaned closer to the window. “Honest?” she repeated, hearing the shrill undertone to the word. “You want me to be honest? All right. Why do you act like being with me is some punishment you have to tolerate, but her... Hell, you can’t even wait long enough to find a bed with her. Every time I’ve seen you two together, it’s like...like...” she sputtered, unable to find the right words.
He supplied them with sarcasm. “Mating time?” Finally moving, he came to stand next to the truck, leaning down to rest his arms on the open window. “I’m not interested in Tanya.”
“Well, pardon me for not noticing that. It was hard to tell when you were holding on to her for dear life and she had her tongue down your throat.”
“She didn’t...” He didn’t finish that denial. “I wasn’t holding on to her. I was trying to push her back. I was trying to tell her that I wasn’t interested.”
“Oh, so that was it. It’s not so hard, you know. You just say, ‘Sorry, Tanya, I’m not interested.’ You’d be surprised how well it works.”
“All right. Sorry, Cassie. I’m not interested.” His voice was soft, adding impact to his statement, making her breath catch in a hard knot in the center of her chest. For a moment, she was numb, then a curious ache started building. Hurt, surprise, disappointment, regret, shame. She felt them all.
“Doesn’t feel so great, does it?” he asked with an odd gentleness as he reached inside to unlock the door, then opened it. “You owe me lunch.”
Bewildered, she stared at him. Feeling flustered and unbalanced, she grudgingly said, “You can stay here if you want,” but she accompanied the words with a gesture toward a house. Tanya’s house.
“I don’t.” He climbed in, closed the door and fastened his seat belt.
For a time, she simply sat there. Once she did finally pull away from the curb and head for the corner where she could make a U-turn, she stiffly said, “I’m sorry. I had no right to be jealous.”
She wished he would tell her that she had no reason to be jealous, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything at all until they were winding through the narrow streets of the Quarter. There, as they waited for a group of camera-laden tourists to cross the street, he finally spoke with the same honesty he had demanded of her. “Tanya was just looking for someone to be with, and I...I was just looking to be distracted from you.”
“Why?” Her voice was soft but even. It didn’t hint at her confusion.
The last tourist stepped onto the curb, but still Cassie didn’t move, not until the driver behind her blared his horn. With a glance in the rearview mirror, she eased forward and into an empty parking space, then faced Reid, waiting for his answer.
“Look at yourself and look at me, then ask that question again. Your family may have come from Serenity, but no one would ever guess. They’re respectable. Your sister’s a hotshot reporter. Your brother-in-law’s a hotshot prosecutor who’s richer than sin. You graduated from college. You’ve been to England and France. Your friends are people just like you—educated, responsible, different.”
“And you were once the bad boy of Serenity. I don’t see your point.”
His expression turned frustrated. “I quit school when I was fifteen. Before that, I went so rarely that I might have completed four or five years. I’m not educated. I’m not respected. I’m never going to be a hotshot anything.”
She allowed a small smile. “I don’t know about that. Tanya seems to think you’re good enough at something to deserve another chance.”
“Tanya’s lonely.”
Cassie’s smile faded. If she’d been asked to give a one-word description of the other woman, it would have been vastly more cruel. Slut. Wasn’t it a worthy description, along with idiot, of anyone who lived a promiscuous life-style these days? But wasn’t the reason behind the life-style more important than the derogatory insults attached to it?
“She has family,” she argued.
“Yeah. A sister with an illegitimate daughter whose father died in prison last year. She’s got a mother across the river who believes wholeheartedly that every man she marries is Mr. Right, that every new marriage is going to last forever. She’s so busy trying to please all those men that she doesn’t have time for the kids. Tanya’s desperate for affection, and having sex is the only way she knows to get it.”
“There must be some other...”
The look he gave her made the words trail away. “Did your mother ever hug you? Kiss you? Hold you in her lap? Did your father ever pat you on the arm or hold your hand when you were scared?”
“Of course they did.”
“Well, not all parents are like that. The only time Meghan ever touched me was to hit me. Tanya’s mother wasn’t much better. Sometimes you find yourself needing to be touched, even if it means having sex with someone to get it.”
The only time Meghan ever touched me was to hit me. Cassie stared sightlessly at the street, the nerves in her stomach tied in knots. She couldn’t begin to imagine that kind of relationship. Little kids were so sweet, so innocent. How could a mother feel anything besides love, awe and tenderness for them? How could any woman show so little affection for her child that all he could remember years later was the physical abuse?
She had so many precious memories of her mother from her childhood—sitting beside her in church, holding hands as they walked to the corner grocery, crawling onto her lap at story time, getting her scrapes bandaged and her bruises kissed, snuggling into bed together. Oh, there had been punishments, too, though not nearly as often or as strictly as the older kids and never when it wasn’t well deserved. Even deserved, it had never been more than a swat or two, only enough to catch her attention. It had been so rare and so minor that she couldn’t remember a specific incident.
For Reid it had been just the opposite. All he could recall was the discipline, never the love. No wonder he’d been reluctant to push Tanya away. He knew what it was like to be hungry for affection.
Would he ever be willing to accept hers?
She wouldn’t hold her breath waiting.
“I’m sorry.” She felt his gl
ance but didn’t meet it. She didn’t know what might show in her eyes, didn’t know if the sympathy or sorrow she was feeling might offend him.
“For what?”
“The way things are. I was blessed with a wonderful family, and I forget that not everyone was that fortunate.”
“I would be willing to bet that more aren’t than are.”
Finally she gave him a faint smile. “I’d love to be able to argue that with you, but I can’t. Since I can’t, let’s get going and I’ll introduce you to one of the reasons my family is so wonderful.” With a glance over her shoulder, she pulled into the street, then talked, practically without pause, about unimportant subjects until she turned into her parents’ driveway.
The house was nothing fancy, but it was neat and lovingly cared for. After spending so much of their lives in crowded apartments, Patrick and Rosemary had taken to home ownership like fish to water. Not a chip of paint flaked from the wood siding before he had the paint and brushes out. Not one weed sprouted in the flower beds that edged every straight line on the lot before she was on her knees plucking. They scraped, painted and maintained, mowed, planted and fertilized, and they got results. They had the loveliest house in the neighborhood, with the prettiest lawn and the most-gorgeous flowers.
They climbed the broad steps to the porch, and Cassie used her own key to open the door. “Mama,” she called as soon as she stepped inside. The house was quiet. It smelled of furniture polish and spring flowers and didn’t show a speck of dust anywhere. “Saturday is cleaning day,” she remarked over her shoulder to Reid as she started toward the kitchen. “Of course, the house is spotless all the time, but you can’t tell Mama that. She can spot microscopic flecks of dust from a hundred paces.”
The Taming Of Reid Donovan Page 9