He sighed. “I’m beginning to see it’s more serious with Rochelle than I ever knew.”
“Finally!”
“Well, only because Ivy told me,” he admitted. “She saw Rochelle note your absence at the table and take off with a full head of steam.”
“Why haven’t you cut the cord with Rochelle one way or the other?”
“Never felt the need. We’ve never had anything. I’ve never encouraged her beyond a friendly working relationship. You’ve gotta give me a break. She’s never put any real moves on me directly.”
“It’s probably still partly your fault,” Amanda asserted, feeling unexpected sympathy for the intense other woman. “You socialize with the work crowd all the time and have shown no interest in anyone else.”
He grasped her shoulders and shot her an urgent look. “That’s changed now with you. As far as I’m concerned, my intentions for Rochelle have always been the same. It’s high time she accepted it. And I will speak to her. I promise.”
“Fair enough, Brett.”
“So we’re cool?”
“Of course.” She rubbed her temples as someone’s tin voice belted out a popular song. “How I wish we could be alone. But,” she hastily added, “I understand your situation back at the house, not wanting to confuse Tess.”
To her surprise, Brett smiled, then held up a key ring.
“What’s that?”
“The key to Ivy’s apartment. She insists we relax there alone for a couple of hours.”
“And what will she do in the meantime?”
He showed her his watch, which read eleven. “About midnight she does a long medley of rock tunes that require bumping and grinding. Then, if Oliver is here as he is tonight, they team up for some duets. About one o’clock, she’ll be joining the clinic gang at Jack’s house for pizza. And she’s promised to drag Oliver along to that, too, so he won’t intrude.”
Amanda clasped her hands in delight. “I’ll repay her somehow.”
“She says you already did in college, the time in Denver when that ski instructor couldn’t keep his pole to himself.”
“She told you about that!”
“Just a sketchy replay. Though she doubts he ever took a slope on his rear end before.”
“He was lucky he didn’t have that pole between his legs when I gave him a shove.”
Brett winced as he guided her to the door. “You women are really tough.”
Chapter Twelve
Brett guided his Corvette down a deserted Main Street a short while later. Staring out the passenger window, Amanda remarked on the fact that only every other streetlight was aglow.
“It’s a budget cutback for the city,” he explained. “The council—of which I am a member—voted for it unanimously. The extra light seemed unnecessary, as there is little action on this street after dark.”
She reached over and squeezed his thigh. “Until now.”
With a chuckle he shifted gears.
Brett circled the block housing Oliver Pratt’s building, then parked in the rear alley, in Pratt’s reserved space.
“You could have parked in Ivy’s space,” she chided. “As we are using her place.”
“I could have. But last month when Oliver was in to the clinic to see Jack about some trivial ailment, he had the nerve to park in my space. The lot was full, due to a stomach bug passing through the grade school, and I had to park on the street and walk a full block with a repaired coffee urn and my medical bag.”
“Oo-oh, revenge is sweet,” she teased, easing out of the car.
They circled the building on foot, pausing at the door that led directly to the apartments upstairs. Amanda held Brett’s penlight near the doorknob as he tried to insert one key, then another into the lock. The second one worked, allowing them access to the small foyer and steep bank of stairs. Brett took the penlight back and held it high for Amanda’s benefit.
“It’s so nice to be off those crutches,” she confided, taking the stairs with a quick step.
“Gee, somebody’s in a hurry.”
Holding tight to the banister, she half turned with a smirk. “Of course. You’re going to seduce me and I can’t wait to see how you do it.”
“Slow down a little,” he said gruffly.
“Why? You think I’m clumsy enough to twist my leg again?”
“Not at all. I only want to enjoy your legs in that postage-stamp miniskirt.”
“Ha!” she cried. “You men are all alike, wondering if I’m wearing panties.”
His voice grew husky. “Aren’t you?”
“Just try and find out!” With that, she skipped up the last few stairs and popped through the fire door.
Moments later they used another key to gain access to Ivy’s small apartment.
“Ivy mentioned that the wall switch near the door doesn’t work,” Brett cautioned. “There’s another one near the kitchen doorway.”
“I’ll go,” she volunteered.
“No, I have the light.” Brett took no more than three steps before he grunted in pain.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just hit my knee on something.” He aimed the beam lower to discover that there was a weight set in the center of the room. Skirting it, he proceeded to the wall switch. Flicking it on brought two more lamps to life. Wandering back to Amanda, he placed an arm around her shoulders. “This whole place is a mess!”
“It’s not so bad. Maybe a little cluttered.”
“Was she like this back in college?”
“Who wasn’t?”
“I wasn’t.”
She eased up close to him. “Well, you could use a little mussing up every now and then.” When he grinned she reached up and ran a hand through his thick black hair. “There! Ruffled hair. Looks sexy.”
He gently touched her face. “You look sexy all the time. Night and day. You drive me nuts.”
She moved even closer to him for full body contact. Grasping his rear end, she pressed her body up against his and began moving. He released a slow groan of pleasure.
“Take your time, imagine how fun this will be without any clothes.”
“Oh, yes. We won’t hurry this time.”
No sooner had he spoken than he abruptly released her. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
“Hey, what’s the matter? You going to comb your hair?”
“Ha-ha. Ivy had the nerve to tell me she keeps condoms in her medicine cabinet. I acted all put out by the inference, but I do need one.”
She gasped in teasing surprise. “I can’t believe it. A man who doesn’t carry a condom in his wallet?”
“You know I don’t have a girlfriend!”
“That’s what you think,” she said with a wink.
When he returned, she was peeling off her silky tank top.
“Hold it. That’s my job.” He moved up to assist, pulling it over her head, tossing it aside. His gaze immediately fastened on her breasts, held fast in a strapless lace bra. Using his fingertips, he caressed the small globes of flesh, then shuddered as her nipples hardened under the textured fabric. In plain and utter fascination, he was soon bending over to nibble at her rigid buds through the lace, skimming his tongue over the coarse surface. Finally he unhooked the clasp and put his tongue on her bare skin.
A hot fever snaking through her now, Amanda anxiously moved her hands to his waist. Opening his belt and zipper, she hooked her thumbs in his briefs and pushed his clothing to the floor.
Kissing his way back up to her throat, he clamped a hand to her thigh and boldly slid it up her skirt. “Ah, so you are wearing panties.”
“You sound pleased.”
“I am. The very idea that you would wiggle around the Blue Parrot without ’em, in a skirt this short, is unthinkable.”
“You’re right. But there are times when I do indeed go without the skivvies. Especially when I’m wearing clingy formal wear.”
“Then we must go formal real soon. You’ll be wearing nothing at all u
nderneath and only I will know it. What fun…” He used his free hand to brush aside her hair to fully expose her face. The other hand, still riding her hip, circled ’round and clutched the swell of her bottom and squeezed. Then watching her carefully, he pushed her firmly into his groin.
Amanda’s response could not have disappointed him. She lost her breath as her belly hit his rigid erection. Grasping his penis, she stroked it with a quick motion, arousing him further.
His mouth fell on hers with hot, crushing passion. With a low groan he jabbed his tongue into her mouth, hungrily tasting the sensitive lining of her cheeks. All the while his fingers kneaded the swell of her bottom, eventually tugging at the tiny silken panties until they slipped down her legs.
She gasped against his mouth as his fingers slipped between the ridge of her bottom, probing the sensitive skin hidden there, moving to her feminine opening. The more she squirmed in pleasure, the deeper inside her he drove his fingers.
Tearing his lips from hers, he muttered, “You are an irresistible witch in that skirt.”
“With a spell on you.” She hooked her arms around his neck to get closer, feel the planes of his body. For a long moment they melded as one, caressing one another. By mutual agreement, she slid the condom on him.
Then abruptly, he hoisted her in the air. Instinctively she wrapped her slim legs around his waist. Moving to the nearest wall, he leaned against it and drove her down over him, thrusting himself inside her. Amanda gave a small cry of pleasure as his solid flesh invaded her soft, sensitive tunnel.
Together they rocked upright, Amanda gently bumping the wall over and over again. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the sweet, burning friction, the steady mounting pressure. Eventually, ever so gently, they sank to the floor in release. There Amanda crawled on top of him and lay quietly, listening to his heartbeat slowing down.
The emotional depth of their union was staggering. She had never felt closer to another human being.
“I believe you could kill me within a month,” he confided, stroking her back possessively.
“A month of this?” She lifted her chin from his chest. “Suppose it would be well worth the prison term.”
BRETT AND AMANDA arrived back at the boarding house at nearly 2:00 a.m. Rather than just the usual night-lights in the foyer and on the stair landing aglow, lamps still burned in the living room. Investigating, they discovered Beatrice seated in a rocker-recliner and wrapped tight in a white terry robe, notebook and pen in her lap, head thrown back and snoring rhythmically.
“So it’s true,” Brett murmured smugly.
“What?”
“That Beatrice snores louder than Frank.”
“Oh, Brett.”
“But she’s always maintained the mysterious snore-in-the-night couldn’t possibly be her. Why is it that all women are in denial about snoring?”
Amanda gently removed the book and pen from Beatrice’s lap and set them on the end table. “We need to hang on to some illusions.”
“You wouldn’t believe how unusual it is to find her here this way,” he remarked with interest. “She’s never stayed up later than eleven-thirty in the two years I’ve known her.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose she dozed off working on your book project.”
“So you know about that.”
“Yes. Like everyone else, I couldn’t be happier with the proposition.”
His affectionate smile almost melted Amanda on the spot. She was rarely recognized for good works, even when she had the best intentions. Brett—all the residents here, in fact—seemed to have no problem in seeing her good qualities, giving her the benefit of the doubt.
Now she knelt beside the chair and spoke gently. “Wake up, Beatrice.”
The middle-aged woman’s puffy face twitched and she cracked open her eyes. She focused on Amanda. “Sorry I dozed off. Were we working together? I dreamt we were.”
“You were on your own tonight, I’m afraid. But I’m free tomorrow for a real musefest.”
“Good, good. Just close my door as you leave.”
“Bea,” Brett interposed.
Her eyes flew open wide now. “What are you doing here, Doc?”
“This isn’t your bedroom. You are in the living room. We just got home and merely want to help you upstairs.”
With a yawn, Beatrice struggled to sit upright in the deep, cushioned rocker. A sound at the doorway startled them all.
“So it is you!”
Della stood in front of them with hands on hips, dressed in a peach tricot nightgown that was ready for the rag bag, gripping a brass candlestick as a weapon. “You’re later than usual. Lucky I didn’t call the cops before checking.”
“As if.” Brett rolled his eyes.
Della lifted her chin. “I might have, smart man.”
“Sure, and give up the chance of making the front page of the Fairlane Gazette? I can see the headline. Landlady Kills Colonel Mustard In Living Room With Candlestick.”
“You’re mocking me, Doc, because Clue is my favorite game. And you think it’s childish.”
“You like it best because it’s the only game you can win every time.”
Della conceded as much with a nod. “So how was your evening at the Blue Parrot?”
“Just fine.”
“I was right, wasn’t I, Doc?” Della smiled.
Amanda frowned as he shifted nervously.
“What do you mean, Della?” Amanda asked.
“Only that I made him go on over there to make up with you. No sense sittin’ around here pouting because his child’s toenails are red. Even Tess had a social commitment.”
Brett was traumatized. “Now, Della, don’t trivialize parenting issues—”
“Well, you and Mandy must have worked things out because you’ve come home together. And that’s what matters most, I guess.”
Amanda grinned. “We gave everything a complete workout and we’re friends again.”
“Can we all go to bed now?” Beatrice whined, now on her feet.
Della humphed. “Oh, fine. You three hit the sack. I’m wide awake now after listening to you chatting down here. But go ahead, leave me alone.”
“Make some warm milk,” Brett suggested.
“Some prescription. See you in the morning for church.” With a wave of disgust, Della headed down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Beatrice shook her head. “I suppose I can keep her company. For a little while.” Ambling over to the liquor cabinet in the corner, she took the brandy bottle and disappeared.
“I would have made up with you on my own, you know,” Brett murmured, winding an arm around Amanda’s shoulders. “By tomorrow at the latest.”
She winked. “At the latest. But to think that Della cared enough to push you is pretty nice.”
“She did it for both of us.”
Brett kept his arm around Amanda as they took the staircase. Then he dropped her off at her door. “What are you thinking about, with that far-off smile?”
She poked him in the chest. “More than your basic animal urges, hotshot.”
He leaned against the door frame, looking suitably surprised. “Really.”
“Yes. As good as we were together, I’m also enjoying the family atmosphere this whole house brings me.”
He enveloped her in his arms. “You’ve brought this house a lot of joy, too. Not that we aren’t a fun bunch in general. But your ideas, your laughter, your wacky spirit, have breathed new life into our old routine.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I do wish you could come inside, just for a bit.”
He removed the fingers climbing his shirt. “Not after all we went through to be discreet.”
“We didn’t go through that much, did we?”
“No? My shin must have a bruise the size of a pancake on it from hitting that barbell set.” He took the key from her hand, slid it in her lock and opened her door. Wide. “Now good night. I’ll see you in the morning. For church.” With that he push
ed her inside and out of reach.
Early the next morning, the boarders prepared for church. Amanda was private about her religion and wasn’t sure she wanted to attend church the following morning with the boarders. But at breakfast Brett explained that the service was nondenominational, that a belief in God would put her on common ground with those attending.
Upon reaching the church a block off Main Street, Amanda was surprised to discover the grand, old, steepled structure was named Common Ground. And the place was packed with men in suits and women in pretty dresses. Even Ivy was there, in a cotton blouse and denim skirt.
Afterward, standing in the shade of a large oak, Amanda waited while Brett gave a patient named Julie Kessel some free advice. Julie was giving Brett a first-hand look at the ingrown toenail on pitiful display in her open-toed shoe.
“I wish I could recommend some miracle medicine,” Brett said patiently. “But you’ll just have to muster your courage and come in to the clinic for a surgical visit. I promise I’ll be gentle,” he added with a smile.
Visibly disappointed, Julie hobbled away.
“Good morning, kids,” Ivy said brightly as she came up to them. “Have you something for me?”
Amanda took one look at her outstretched hand and shook it.
“No, I mean my key ring,” Ivy whispered with a laugh.
Brett dug into his pocket for the ring and he slipped it to her. “Sorry. In all the excitement, I forgot to leave it under your mat.”
“Yeah, well I had to trot down to Oliver’s place for a spare, after fending off some very nervy advances. Then I had to allow him to think I lost my key ring at the Blue Parrot. He gave me a lecture on carelessness, then vowed to shake down the owner until he ‘spit it up.”’
“You can handle that pretentious dope,” Brett said. “Tell him you found them on the staircase this morning.”
“Yes, I’ll do that. He sleeps until noon on Sundays. He won’t know the difference.”
“Thanks, Ivy,” Amanda murmured. “It was a nice favor, offered at just the right time.”
“So how was the rest of your evening?” Brett inquired.
“Best as could be expected, being obligated to keep Oliver on a short leash and away from the building.”
Flirting With Trouble Page 15