Hannah balanced the tray filled with sundae dishes and pie, then delivered those before setting Mick’s dinner in front of him.
“Can you sit with me?”
She shouldn’t. There were a million things she should be doing to get ready for closing, but she wanted to sit. She wanted to forget work and obligations and enjoy a quiet moment with a handsome man. Without hesitation she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
“Have you eaten?”
“I usually eat around five, before we get too busy.”
“You know, if you could increase your occupancy rate, you could hire a waitress to handle dinner and you could end your workday at a reasonable hour.”
“Oh, gee, such a simple solution. Why didn’t I think of that?”
Her sarcasm made him grin. He looked younger, handsomer, much less worried.
“I can’t increase the occupancy rate, I can’t hire a waitress, and I can’t quit at a reasonable hour. I’m stuck.”
His grin faded, and he paid his food inordinate attention. “Maybe you’re not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe you could just walk away. If you could, it would leave Brad one less weapon to use against you. Taking the motel from you isn’t much of a threat if you’re willing to turn your back on it and leave.”
“But I can’t. My mother...”
“Likes it here. She’s comfortable here. It’s familiar, and it’s the last place, probably the only place, she lived with your father. But that doesn’t mean she can’t adjust. Have you ever tried to take her away?”
“After Daddy died, she spent some time in Vinita. She couldn’t bear it. She can’t bear being any farther away than Yates, and even then only for an hour or two. She gets nervous.” So nervous—pacing, crying, wringing her hands, fretting obsessively. Even taking her to see Dr. Denton, who was also familiar and comfortable, was a chore that left Hannah as frazzled and fatigued as Merrilee. “Even if she could leave, the debts would go with us. And where would we go? How would I support the three of us? I told you, I have no skills.”
“Maybe I could help you,” he suggested quietly.
“And what would you want in return for your help?” Her voice was heavy with accusation and wariness, while inside a chilly emptiness spread. Sex was the obvious answer, and it made her feel dirty. It also shamed her because, if Merrilee’s well-being weren’t so closely tied to the motel, she would give his offer serious consideration. She hoped she would turn him down in the end, but who knew? It seemed that ten years of stress and struggle had weakened her moral fabric. After all, she hadn’t turned Brad down.
“What would I want?” he echoed. “Sex. That’s what you expect me to say, isn’t it?”
She didn’t answer.
“Well, darlin’, as desirable as you are—”
“Ma’am? We’d like to check out now.”
Her gaze followed the voice to the family at table 3. Rising quickly, she tore their check from the order pad, then met them at the cash register. She smiled, made change and small talk and pretended not to notice the three kids leaving fingerprints all over the newly cleaned windows.
“Generous tip,” Mick remarked after she’d cleaned their table and returned to his with a handful of bills.
“Some parents tip based on how messy the kids were.” These three had been particularly so. She’d been on her knees cleaning food and trash from the floor, had had to wipe not only the tabletop but also the underside and the chairs.
“I can be very generous, too.” His dark gaze locked with hers. “But I don’t pay for sex. If I help you, Sylvie and Merrilee, it will be because I want to, because I like you, because I have the money and it’s the right thing to do. And if we ever make love again, it’ll be because we both want it. It won’t have anything to do with money, blackmail, paying old debts, feeling guilty or anything else. Do you understand?”
She understood and appreciated his honesty. Still, she argued with him. “You don’t know enough about me to be able to like me.”
“I know that your family means everything to you. I know that you’ve devoted yourself to this place, even though it’s the last place on earth you want to be, because of Merrilee and Sylvie. You’ve sacrificed your dreams and your future for them, and you’ve done it without resentment or bitterness. You work hard without complaining. You’ve struggled without giving in.”
“I’ve also helped frame an innocent man for murder,” she reminded him, bitter now. “I’ve sold myself—body, honor and dignity—to hold on to this place, and I couldn’t even do it right. I got suckered on the payment.”
The last bit of resentment Mick held against her for Saturday night seeped away. He still wished she had come to him of her own free will, because she wanted him, because she felt the same connection he had. But nothing he could say or do could make her feel as bad about her deal with Brad as she made herself feel. His anger or scorn couldn’t match her own.
And that just proved she was a better person than she gave herself credit for.
“I’m going out to the site this evening to look around Brad’s office. Want to go?”
She looked as if she wanted to refuse the invitation, but when she responded, it was with a shrug. “I guess.”
“Don’t sound too enthusiastic, sweetheart,” he teased, but he couldn’t charm a change in her somber expression. Finishing his tea, he got to his feet and picked up his dishes before she could reach for them. “Come on. I’ll help you clean up.”
“I can’t leave until Ruby gets here.”
“No, but you can sit down and relax until then. Come on.”
Earlene was already gone for the night. Sylvie sat at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and a pensive look on her lined face. When they walked through the door, she gave them a long look that slowly became a smile. “We had a pretty good dinner crowd.”
Hannah responded with a murmur as she loaded Mick’s dishes in the dishwasher.
“What did you think of Earlene’s chicken, Mick?”
“It was good. Just the way my granny fixes it.”
“And where does she fix it?”
“Monroe, Texas. A wide spot in the road out in the western part of the state.”
“I never did take too kindly to Texans. They’re an arrogant bunch. You ever plan on going back?”
“Only for visits. I like Oklahoma.” His gaze followed Hannah as she filled a mop bucket with hot water and soapy disinfectant that smelled unpleasantly of pine. She moved quickly, waited patiently, gave no sign she was nearing the end of a long hard day that was only one more in an endless line of such days.
“Really.” There was no question in Sylvie’s response. “And what is it you like so much about our fair state?”
“It’s a long list.” He didn’t think it would surprise the old woman to know that her granddaughter ranked high on it.
As Hannah started to lift the heavy bucket from the sink, he took it from her, then set its wheels on the floor. “What do you want me to do?”
“Sit down. Have a piece of pie with Sylvie.”
“She’s none too good at accepting help. She thinks she can do everything all by herself.” Sylvie’s tone was confidential, her voice loud enough for Hannah to hear. She gave the old woman a dry look, then, using the mop as a handle, rolled the bucket into the dining room. “If you really want to help, the counter needs to be wiped down—since we stack the chairs on the tables, we clean them in the morning—and the ketchup, salt, pepper and sugar need refilling, and so do the napkin dispensers. All that needs doing in here is sweeping and mopping. I’d do it myself, but frankly I’m tired. I’m not as young as I used to be.” A gleam came into her sharp eyes. “I’ll make you a deal, son. You help her finish up, and I’ll take over the desk until Ruby gets here so you two can do something.”
“You have any suggestions besides ‘something’?”
“Go for a drive. Head over to Yates and get an ice-cream
cone. Go skinny-dipping in the lake. Heavens, I don’t know. I’m an old woman. You young people should have a million ideas.”
“Are those the things you used to do with Hannah’s grandfather? An evening drive, ice cream, skinny-dipping?”
Her smile was distant and gentle. She didn’t answer, though. She didn’t need to.
“It’s a deal.” He picked up the spray bottle of disinfectant cleaner and a clean rag from the stack beside it. “But, Sylvie, a trade wasn’t necessary. I planned to help her, anyway.”
“I know. That’s why I offered the deal.”
He was grinning when he went into the dining room. The radio behind the counter was tuned to a country-music station, and Hannah was humming softly as she turned the last of the chairs upside down on the tables. He would bet she had a sweet voice, throaty and full of heartache, perfect for songs about missed chances, cheating hearts and cryingin-your-beer hard luck. He wished she would prove him right by singing along, but she didn’t. He wished he felt free to take her in his arms and move with her, slow and easy, like lovers, around the floor, but he didn’t.
She’d gathered all the salt and pepper shakers, napkin dispensers, ketchup and hot-sauce bottles and sugar and sweetener containers on the counter. He found the napkins on a shelf underneath the counter, alongside commercial-size containers of condiments, and set to work.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I don’t need your help. I do this every day.”
“I’m not doing this for you. It’s for Sylvie.”
She began sweeping in the farthest corner, working with quick, efficient strokes. “How do you figure that?”
“If I help you clean up, I get to take you out while she watches the desk.”
“I think you got the short end of the stick. We were already planning to go out to the resort when Ruby gets here, anyway.”
“That’s business.”
“And this is...?”
He watched her for a moment, wearing a pair of damnably baggy shorts that fitted snugly at her waist and nowhere else, a T-shirt too big even for him and a pair of plain white canvas sneakers, with her hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail and any makeup she might have put on this morning long since gone. “Pleasure,” he said softly. “Pure pleasure.”
A flush warmed her face, and she turned back to the sweeping with vigor.
Once cleanup was finished, she tried to renege on his and Sylvie’s deal, but her grandmother all but pushed her out the door. As they walked toward his truck, he casually asked, “Do you have a swimsuit?”
“Somewhere.”
“Why don’t you put it on? Unless, of course, you’d rather take Sylvie’s suggestion.”
She gave him a distrustful look. “I try never to take Sylvie’s suggestions.”
“Liar.”
She merely shrugged and let herself into her quarters. He went into his own room, traded his jeans for a pair of cotton trunks, took a couple of towels from the bathroom, then went to the truck to wait. Only a moment later, she joined him, still wearing the baggy shorts and baggier shirt. Peeking out from the neck of the shirt, though, were the narrow ties of a swimsuit top in bright coral, turquoise and purple.
He asked for directions to someplace where they could swim, and she gave them, sending him to an empty bank far from the nearest manmade light. The road led straight to the water for launching boats, and a weathered dock extended twenty-five feet from shore. He followed her to the end of the dock, sat down beside her and removed his shoes as she kicked hers off.
The air was uncomfortably close and heavy, but a slight breeze offered some small relief and helped keep insects at bay. It created ripples on the water and cooled the heat he’d lived with since moving into the Last Resort. Since meeting Hannah.
She blew her breath out in a loud sigh. “This is where my dad always came to fish. He was on his way here the day he was killed. The place belonged to a friend of his, and we had free run. I learned to swim here, to bait a hook, to handle a boat. We pitched a tent right back there and had cookouts under the trees.” Another sigh. “I haven’t been here in years.”
“Because of your father?”
Her blond hair glinted with moonlight as she shook her head. “No time. And Daddy’s friend sold it a few years ago. Some construction company came in from out of town, wanting to build a resort, and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
“You mean this belongs to Blue Water?”
She nodded. “The resort’s about a half mile that way.”
If pressed, he acknowledged ruefully, he would have guessed they were at least ten miles from the site. He would never get used to these winding back roads—unless he lived the rest of his life here exploring them. The idea wasn’t totally repugnant.
After a time she tilted her head back to study the sky. “It’s nice out here.”
It was a far cry from the barrenness of Monroe or the metropolitan feel of Oklahoma City, but he liked it He liked it a lot.
“Want to go for a swim?” she asked.
What he really wanted was to watch her get ready for one. To see her slide her shorts down her long legs. Peel her shirt over her head and cast it aside. Stand on the dock wearing nothing but a skimpy little suit, the moonlight gleaming on the pale gold of her body.
Then he would want to remove the suit, to touch her all over, kiss her, seduce her, even if she didn’t want to be seduced.
“Go ahead,” he said, his voice thick. “I’ll join you in a minute.” When he was sure it was safe to move.
She got to her feet, stripped off her clothes as if it weren’t the sexiest act he’d witnessed in a long time, then dove into the water, giving him only the briefest glimpse of bikini and soft skin. She swam until she was little more than a shadow in the water, then returned, treading water a dozen feet from the dock. “What was Sylvie’s suggestion?”
“The one you didn’t want to take?” He stood up, discarded his shirt and dove, surfacing mere inches in front of her. “Skinny-dipping.”
Her gaze was level and disbelieving. “My grandmother suggested that you take her only granddaughter skinny-dipping? Right.”
“She likes me. She thinks I’d be good for you and good for the motel.” That last was just a guess, but when Hannah remained silent, he figured it was a safe bet that Sylvie had said as much to her. “She thinks you need to lighten up and have a little fun.”
“And she considers skinny-dipping a little fun.”
“She liked it when she did it with your grandfather.”
She burst into laughter. “Enough already. I don’t want to know any more than that. She’s my grandmother.”
“Who was once young, pretty and sexy. Just like you.”
Her lingering smile wavered, then disappeared, and she swam away. He gave her a twenty-yard head start before he followed, easily closing the distance. The water was refreshing, and the company was pleasant, if skittish. All in all, he couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the evening. Well, if murder and arson charges weren’t hanging over his head. If their future and even their lives weren’t in limbo. If she weren’t skittish, running away from a simple compliment.
If, when this swim was over, he could pull her from the water, remove her swimsuit and his own and make love to her under the stars.
In spite of the cool water and the breeze that chilled him, his body reacted to that last thought, just as it reacted to damn near every thought of her.
Finally they returned to the dock. He climbed out first, then extended his hand to her. She looked at it with wide-eyed wariness, then moved a few feet to the side and lifted herself out. He chuckled in spite of his disappointment. “You’re a smart woman, Hannah.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because if you’d taken my hand, I wouldn’t have let go for less than a kiss.”
She gave him a long bottom-to-top look that seemed even longer since he remained stand
ing and she was sitting. “You would have been here all night waiting.”
“Are you afraid to kiss me?”
She answered with more honesty than he expected. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it wouldn’t stop there.”
No, it wouldn’t, he agreed. Not unless she was much stronger than he was. “And would that be so bad?”
Her only response was a shrug.
He’d been dead on his feet when he’d propositioned her in his room this afternoon, but he remembered her refusal clearly enough. He wasn’t offering money, he’d told her. Just pleasure, passion, need. And that wasn’t enough, she’d said in a sad, regretful voice.
What more did she want? An emotional bond. Affection. Respect. Caring. A commitment. The possibility of love. The same things he’d been looking for when he’d met Sandra, the same things he was looking for today. He didn’t like being alone, wasn’t cut out for celibacy, loneliness or meaningless affairs.
He liked Hannah. He respected her. He’d thought the instantaneous connection between them was as strong for her as it was for him. From the moment she’d sat down at his table that night, he had responded to her in a way he had never responded to another woman, not even Sandra.
But maybe the connection had been one way. Maybe it had been more fragile than he’d realized. Maybe it couldn’t compete with her shame.
He sat down, leaning back against a piling, and watched the pattern of moonlight on the water’s surface change and shift with each ripple. Like his life. The changes had begun the day Brad had walked into his office to propose construction of Blue Water’s first luxury resort, and they hadn’t stopped yet. He wondered where he would be, how his life would be, when they did.
“I’ve never indulged in casual sex.”
She’d drawn her knees to her chest and was resting her arms on them, her face hidden from view. At his announcement she turned to look at him. “What about Saturday night?”
“There was nothing casual about that, Hannah, and you know it. You can be brutally honest about everything else. Admit that, money aside, shame aside, that night meant something to you. Admit that the sex meant something to you.”
The Overnight Alibi Page 12