"Let me help." Charlie started to pick up a cushion.
"Never mind. I've got it." Her jaw was clenched and her whole body vibrated with pent-up emotion as she scooped up all three seat cushions and carried them, balanced precariously, into the garage.
"I wish I could be the man you need," he said gently.
"Well, you can't." She let the cushions fall to the garage floor.
"Wait. Don't you want to put something down first? They'll get all dirty."
"It doesn't matter." She stomped back to the living room and down the hall, where she opened a cupboard and pulled out sheets and a couple of spare blankets. Then she snagged a pillow from her bedroom and started back toward the garage.
"It does matter. There could be motor oil on the floor of that garage."
"So what? Pretty soon I'll be even richer, so I can buy everything new. Didn't you hear the news? In no time, I'll have it all."
"Eve. . ." His voice was pleading as he followed her through the kitchen.
"Don't get me wrong." She kicked the cushions into line and crouched down to tuck the sheet around them. "I'm grateful for everything you're doing. I'll be happy to give you a percentage. I should have mentioned that earlier. What's fair? Fifty percent?"
"I don't want anything."
She laid both blankets on top of the makeshift bed and placed the pillow at the head of it. "I know." She stood, gazing at him, her heart breaking. He wanted nothing from her and she wanted everything from him. "Sleep tight." She walked out of the garage, closing the door after her.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Charlie didn't sleep great, but he slept. Throughout the night he kept waking up. First he'd wonder where he was. Then he'd remember and start dealing with the problems inherent in the sofa cushions. The total length of them turned out to be about ten and a half inches shorter than he was, plus they kept separating whenever he moved. He was also concerned about how dirty they were getting lying on the garage floor.
Once he'd worried about the sofa cushions for a while, he'd lie awake thinking about the chance of an intruder trying to get into the garage. They'd have some trouble, because he'd decided to bring his bike inside and park it next to the door. If the bike fell over, then Charlie would know he had trouble. In case that trouble arrived, he'd laid a twelve-inch crescent wrench on the floor within reach.
After he'd thought about the odds of someone trying to come through that door, he'd get around to thinking about the most troubling subject of all—Eve. He'd remember how sad she'd looked standing there beside the bed she'd made for him. He'd relive the time they'd spent together— the pool-playing, the hovercraft work, the sex, especially the sex.
Then he'd try to talk himself into staying in Middlesex for the rest of his life so he could be with Eve. When that didn't feel like the right solution, he'd rehearse speeches in which he asked her to come with him to Vegas. Then he'd give up on that option as unworkable, punch the pillow a few times, a pillow that smelled like her perfume, and finally go back to sleep.
When his bike fell over with an ungodly crash, he leaped to his feet. A faint strip of light showed under the garage door, but that could be headlights. He had no idea what time it was. Heart pounding, he grabbed the wrench and prepared to defend the hovercraft.
Denise poked her head out the door and a shaft of light poured through the opening. She looked at the fallen bike. "What the hell is going on?"
"I decided to stay here through the night. What are you doing up?" Planning to sabotage the hovercraft?
"It's morning, hotshot. Eight already."
Charlie glanced at his watch. So it was. If she was planning a sabotage move, she was getting a really late start on it. "Is Eve still asleep?"
"Yeah, she's out cold, so I decided to make some coffee. Then I heard somebody snoring out here, so I thought I'd better investigate."
"I don't snore." No doubt she was making this up as she went along, to justify her coming out to the garage to do ... something.
"How would you know? You're asleep when it happens."
She had him there. He didn't know if he snored or not.
Denise glanced at the bike. "That's not a very smart place to park it, you know."
"I meant to park it there."
She met his gaze. "I see. So that you'd know if anybody tried to get in the garage." "Could be." And you did.
"Hey, what's happening?" Eve's voice drifted from inside the kitchen. "Is Charlie okay?"
"Charlie's fine." Denise continued to hold Charlie's gaze, as if looking away would signal a weakness. "I just tripped his booby trap by knocking over his bike, which he'd parked in front of the door."
"Oh." Eve's voice drew nearer. "Why did you open the door?"
Aha. Charlie was delighted that she'd asked.
"I heard him snoring. It startled me. I didn't know he was out there."
"I'm sorry, Denise. I should have left you a note."
"I don't snore," Charlie said again. All he needed was backup on that issue and Denise's excuse for opening the door would be destroyed.
Eve's face appeared over Denise's shoulder. "Umm, yes you do."
Shit.
Denise gave him a superior smile. "Coffee?"
"Sure, thanks." So Denise had won that round, but Charlie wasn't going to relax his guard. She was a smart cookie, but so was he. Besides that, he was spoiling for a fight.
Sleep had renewed Eve's optimism about life. She supposed a little jealousy was a natural thing, and she decided not to let it bother her so much. It helped that Denise was in a cheerful mood. Her sister offered to go shopping and be in charge of food during the day so that Eve and Charlie could concentrate on the hovercraft.
Eve suspected the offer to shop was tied in with a desire to visit the bakery and see Manny again. When Denise came home with more Cock Rings and Booby Buns along with eggs, bacon, and lunch meat, Eve's suspicion was confirmed. The trip put Denise in an even better mood.
In contrast, Charlie looked like a thundercloud. He'd made one brief trip home to shower and shave, and she'd hoped that would improve his disposition. It hadn't. On the way back he'd picked up some rubber tubing to use for the hovercraft's bumper, but when she thanked him, he replied in a curt monosyllable. Then he went back to tinkering with the rotary engine and swearing under his breath.
She was tempted to send him home and forget having him help on the hovercraft. As for the phone calls he planned to make, she could do that if he'd give her the info. But she definitely needed him tonight in order to try and catch the saboteur. Or maybe not.
Maybe she could rig up some sort of physical trap that would detain anyone who came through the garage door. Creating such a thing would take time away from the hovercraft, but it would mean she wouldn't have to depend on Charlie, who was currently a royal pain in the butt.
At last she confronted him. "It's obvious you don't want to be doing this," she said. "So if you'll give me the names and numbers of the people you were going to contact in New York, I'll take it from here."
He pulled off his goggles and stared at her, his jaw tight. "I don't think you can accomplish everything all by yourself."
That hurt. "So now you're doubting me, too? Well, I most certainly can do it by myself! In fact, that's exactly what I will do, and show you all!"
He looked as if she'd slapped him. "That isn't what I meant."
She stood there, quivering. "Then what did you mean?" "I meant that you're under a tight deadline to finish this project, you have somebody trying to sabotage you, and now you're trying to lay a trap for them. That's a hell of a lot to expect of one person, any person. If anyone could pull it off, you could, but... I want to help."
"You do? You aren't acting like it."
He groaned. "I know, damn it! But I can't get the engine to run the way it should, and I can't figure out who the devil is after you. But the worst thing is that every time I look at you I want to rip off your clothes, and yet I know sex isn't going t
o solve any of our problems and will probably create more." He sighed in obvious frustration. "I'm not reacting well to all that, and I'm sorry."
"You really want to rip my clothes off every time you look at me?" That perked her up considerably.
"Every time. I picture that sexy underwear and go nuts. But then I have to stop myself. We have work to do, and your sister's here, and . . . well, we have some problems that aren't exactly worked out."
She smiled. "So you get grouchy when you don't have regular sex?"
"I didn't think so." He looked sheepish. "But it looks that way, doesn't it? At least when it comes to you."
"Then I guess I can take your grouchiness as a compliment"
"I'll try to be more pleasant, I promise."
"Don't worry about it." Her heart felt considerably lighter now that she knew the primary source of his dark mood. She put on her goggles. "Let's get to work. We have lots to do."
Late in the afternoon Charlie decided he would never get the engine to run as smoothly as he wanted it to. Perfection wasn't achievable, much as he wanted that. So he and Eve mounted the engine in the hovercraft. By the time they wound the rubber tubing around the chassis and got that attached, they were out of time.
Both parties would start in thirty minutes. Denise was already dressed and waiting in the living room.
Because Charlie wasn't sure if Denise would make a sudden appearance in the garage, he kept his voice low. "Let's double-check the plan. If any of our suspects are gone from either party for more than ten minutes, we speed-dial each other, but we also head immediately for the house."
"Right. And make sure your cell is on vibrate. The parties will be loud."
Charlie had a moment of anxiety. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. It could put her in danger. "Eve, promise me something. If you get there ahead of me, wait for me."
"Only if you promise the same thing."
"I don't have to promise." He wondered if this was an oversight on his part. "I don't have a key to get in."
"And I don't have a spare."
"Of course not." He laughed softly. "You gave them all away. There are probably keys to your house for sale on eBay."
"Very funny."
"Yeah, I'm a regular David Letterman. Listen, please be careful. Don't go charging into the garage if someone's there. I should arrive ahead of you, but in case I don't, just wait."
"Okay." She looked up at him. "How about a kiss for luck?"
"We can spare about one minute. Can we keep it to that?"
"I doubt it." She wound her arms around his neck. "Kiss me anyway."
He didn't need to be asked again. He'd been aching to kiss her for hours. His lips meeting hers felt like homecoming, like the first right thing he'd done all day. He'd never been sure what his place in life was supposed to be, but holding her seemed to be part of the puzzle.
She tasted so damned good. He knew the minute was up, but she'd pressed her body close to his and opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue. He could do that all night. She had the most—
"Do you think you could wrap it up? We're going to be late. I don't like being late."
Charlie opened one eye, and Denise was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. She wore another one of Eve's slinky sweaters, silver this time, and she'd borrowed a few pieces of jewelry to go with it. He thought it was a good sign that Eve hadn't immediately leaped away from him the minute she'd heard her sister's voice.
She did, however, slowly pull back. "We do need to go."
"I know."
"You two don't have to go," Denise said. "If you want to stay here and, uh ... work, it's no skin off my nose."
"No, I want to go." Eve stepped out of Charlie's arms and walked toward her sister. "I like Jill, and I'm happy for her and David. Besides, I want to get the reaction to those cookies we worked so hard on. I'll be ready in no time. We won't be late."
"If you say so." Denise sent Charlie a parting glance. "See you later, Charlie."
"Bye, Denise." He wondered if he would see her later, in this very garage. Then he had a sudden thought. "Are you two riding over there together?" If so, and Denise took the car to come back and do mischief, Eve would be stuck at the party.
"Actually, no," Denise said. "I'm supposed to meet Manny later on, so we're going separately. I was just going to follow Eve to make sure I found the right place."
And so you’ll have wheels to get back here during the party? The setup was too perfect, the motive too strong. She'd suggested that Eve and Charlie skip the party while knowing full well that her sister wouldn't give up a chance to bond with the women of the town she'd adopted. He felt sorry for Eve, but he thought he'd found the culprit.
An hour later, Charlie was watching a belly dancer Archie had imported from New York and wondering why Eve hadn't called yet. He felt sure Denise would have slipped out of the bachelorette party by now. And if not Denise, then Eunice. This was their golden opportunity.
He'd been keeping an eye on Manny, Kyle, Darrell, and Ed, but he didn't really think any of them were guilty. Finally he slipped over to a dark corner and called Eve.
She answered immediately. "Got something?" Music with a heavy bass thumped in the background, along with a chorus of feminine laughter.
"Not me. Are you sure you're watching?"
"You betcha. Right now both my sister and Eunice are very involved with one of the three male strippers."
"Three? We've only got one belly dancer over here."
'Too bad for you."
"You're not watching the strippers, are you? You have to concentrate."
"I can watch the strippers while I concentrate."
He fought down that stupid green monster. She'd had enough jealousy in her life without him adding to the mix. "Well, I guess I'd better—" Someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Just a minute," he said to Eve. "Don't hang up." He found that he liked talking to her. He missed her.
He turned to find David, the eager groom, standing beside him. Charlie envied the guy having all his matrimonial ducks in a row. And he had a great fiancée. Jill was blond and gorgeous, almost as pretty as Eve. She was also a terrific person. She was the hairdresser for both his mother and Aunt Myrtle, and Jill was responsible for giving them their red hair every couple of months.
"Have you seen Rick around?" David was several drinks into his evening and had gotten to the happy and congenial stage. "The guy's so generous that I hate to bug him, but he offered to take a few pictures, and I'd love to get some with the groomsmen and the belly dancer."
"I'm sure he's here somewhere. I'll check the bathroom." Charlie walked in that direction and put the phone back to his ear. "Eve, I'll call you back in a minute. I have to get Rick to do his photographer thing."
Rick wasn't in the bathroom, though. In fact, he wasn't anywhere in the Rack and Balls. When Charlie finally put on his coat and went out to the parking lot, he discovered the Subaru was no longer there.
Of course there was an explanation. Of course. Except a sick kind of certainty was settling into Charlie's gut. He speed-dialed Eve.
"Hi, there. Listen, nobody's moving here."
"Well, someone did here. I'm heading over to your house."
"Who? Kyle? Ed and Darrell? I can't believe that Manny—"
"Rick." Then he hung up and hopped on his bike. Maybe nobody would be at Eve's house. Maybe Rick had a very good explanation for leaving the party. Charlie should call his cell, in fact.
Driving one-handed, he punched in Rick's number. And got Rick's voice mail. Well, that didn't mean anything. Rick could have ... what? Charlie couldn't imagine what would make his cousin leave a party, especially one where there was a seminaked woman dancing.
But stealing the hovercraft design made no sense at all.
The guy was a successful photographer with big-deal clients. Wasn't he?
When Charlie pulled up in front of the garage, everything looked perfectly normal. There was no garage light on, no Subaru parked
at the curb—nothing out of the ordinary. But he had no idea how long Rick had been AWOL from the party. He hadn't been watching Rick. Rick had not been a suspect, damn it! He was his rich cousin!
Now he had a better appreciation for how Eve had felt every time he'd mentioned that her sister might be doing this. People you'd grown up with weren't supposed to engage in criminal behavior. They were supposed to operate under the same value system you did.
Eve swung into the driveway and the garage door rolled up, activating the light inside. She hopped out of her car. "Everything looks fine! Nobody's here. How long was Rick gone, anyway?"
"I don't know." Charlie hated like hell to admit that. "I had no idea that it might be him."
"It might not be." Eve walked into the garage and started looking around. "He might have another reason for leaving the party. Let's not jump to conclusions."
Charlie followed her into the garage. She made him feel lower than a mealybug. He'd been all set to blame her sister, but she was trying to keep Rick from being a suspect. He could learn a lot from Eve, if he allowed himself to forget his plan to leave Middlesex. And he could have a damn good life, too. And plenty of hot sex.
"Charlie!"
His heart lurched into high gear. She'd found something.
"Is this what I think it is?" She crouched down and peered under the workbench.
Charlie knelt down beside her and looked up. "Holy shit." He was staring at a small homemade bomb. Worse yet, he recognized the design. It was the same one Rick had joked about building when they were kids.
"Can you stop it?"
His mouth went dry. "I don't think so. It's a cheesy bomb, and if I mess with it, it could go off in my hand." Rick had moved the tank of hydrogen right next to it. The bomb was small, but the hydrogen would amplify the blast and take out the garage, including the hovercraft. Charlie quickly moved the tank a distance away.
"Charlie." Her voice was tense. "It's showing one minute, forty-six seconds."
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