Tony nodded and went into his bathroom to dig out fingernail clippers. When he returned, she was glaring down at her hand. He offered her the clippers. “Here.”
She frowned at him and then took them and cut off the rest of the ugly nail. “God. Just look at that hand now. Wonder if anybody around here does emergency manicures on Sunday afternoon.”
His voice was dusty dry when he said, “Emergency manicures. Aren’t they all really emergencies?” He moved over to the stack of bowls on the tiny counter. “What were you going to make?”
Randa was staring down at her hand, and he had to repeat the question before she looked up. “Oh, no idea. I don’t know how to cook.”
Tony leaned back against the counter. “But now seemed like a good idea to figure it out?”
Randa crossed one foot over the other and shrugged. “I’m hungry.”
Of course she was. Lunch had been a part of the plan. He was happy they’d scrapped that plan. He looked at the clock on the stove. Five o’clock. She should be hungry. “Didn’t want to get dressed and head over for another burger?”
“I didn’t want to leave you.” She grimaced. “Good grief. Kick me out now, please, for my own sake.”
Tony reached out and tugged her closer. “Why? I’m glad you didn’t want to leave me, not yet.”
“One night. There’s no way a purchase of the Rock’n’Rolla will go through, and I’ll be heading to some other place soon.” Randa sighed. “I can’t get attached to the place. Or to you.”
Tony stiffened and did his best to control the angry growl that wanted to escape. He had no idea what to say anyway. All that came to mind was “Mine” and he figured she’d have something to say about that. Instead he said, “Is that what you really want?”
Randa’s head jerked back. The look in her eyes said she thought he’d lost his mind. “Are you kidding? Haven’t you been listening to me? What I really want is my own hotel. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Not a family. Not a mortgage or baseball practice or life in the suburbs. She wanted to run her own hotel. And she’d be really good at it. He sighed. “Right. Well, you’re Randa Whitmore. You deserve a hotel. You’d do a good job.”
Randa pursed her lips. “Not as good as you, maybe, but still acceptable?”
“No comment.” Tony laughed like she expected him to, but he wanted to argue with her. He wanted to tell her that she wanted what he wanted or that they could have it all. But they couldn’t, not if her heart was set on running her own Whitmore hotel. Memphis and Willodean and the Rock’n’Rolla… this was his family, his home now.
He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes when she leaned against him, her long blonde hair a messy tangle against his bare chest. He tried not to think about how well she fit next to him, her head resting against his jaw, and her breasts a pleasant torment covered in worn cotton. It was already too late for him. He was attached. “Sometimes you don’t get to make the choice, Randa. This hotel has a way of drawing people back.”
Her sigh teased goose bumps over his chest and more than anything he wanted to be connected to her again. But he didn’t want to let her go. And then her stomach growled so loudly, his answered. “Sounds like the big cat exhibit over at the zoo in here.”
She snorted and straightened. “Maybe we better get dressed and go over to the restaurant. By the time I figure out what I intended to do with that bowl, we could starve to death.”
Tony wrapped his hand in the loose knit over her stomach and kneaded her bare thigh with the other. “I don’t think I want you to get dressed.”
She raised her brow. “Please. Do not tell me that in addition to running a hotel and maintaining a truly smoking hot body and reading every book ever printed that you are also a gourmet chef.”
He shook his head. “Not gourmet, no, but I can make the best grilled cheese you ever put in your mouth.”
Randa frowned. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had a grilled cheese.”
Tony nodded. “I was kind of counting on that.” When she laughed, he winked at her and watched her mouth drop open in shock.
“Did you just wink at me? Who are you and what have you done with Tony? Tony does not wink.” He put both hands on her shoulders and walked her around to sit in the desk chair in front of his computer. “Sit there. Watch me do my magic.”
Tony fought the urge to hum as he pulled out everything he needed for the sandwich. The wink had been shocking. If he hummed a happy tune while he worked, she might make a run for it. But the idea that he had music in his heart was damn nice.
RANDA WAS QUIET as she watched him work. If he’d been sexy before… and he had been, now he was heartbreakingly handsome. Shirtless, wearing only soft cotton shorts, and waving a spatula as he smiled down at his sandwiches.
When she’d first walked into the lobby last week, she’d thought “thug” for about a second and a half. He’d looked mean, a little dangerous, tough. And the fact that he could pull all that off while wearing a Hawaiian shirt said something.
Here he looked like the dream she never knew she had. He’d make some lucky woman a nice wife. A man who smiled while he cooked. One who believed in “always faithful” enough to have it tattooed on his arm. Maybe he didn’t have a lot, but he had everything he needed. And he was satisfied.
Randa couldn’t remember ever feeling satisfied. She’d either been too hungry for good food or her father’s respect or too ambitious or too insecure or too… something. Different. Alone. Lonely.
“Tony, what is it you want more than anything?”
He glanced over his naked shoulder. “Um, what? Like… give me some direction here.”
Randa leaned back in his chair. “In ten years, where’s Tony?”
“Right here. Working. And I wouldn’t mind coaching T-ball or maybe a soccer team.” He didn’t look at her and Randa was glad. She could see that in her head. He’d be an awesome coach. She could imagine him patiently explaining rules to a miniature version of himself, one who was lucky enough to have two parents who loved him.
She’d never imagined herself cheering from the bleachers. That wasn’t a very Whitmore thing to do.
But she was beginning to wonder if it might be a Randa thing to do.
She could match flip-flops to team uniforms.
Randa rested her head against the back of the chair. “Is grilled cheese your signature dish?”
He flipped a sandwich onto a plate and then put the other in the pan. “I have two gourmet selections. For a hot meal, it’s grilled cheese. For a cold one, it’s peanut butter and jelly.”
Randa laughed. “Well, as long as you’re getting real nutrition.”
He shrugged. “I like them. I think about getting a grill and trying my hand at a steak now and then but…” He trailed off and Randa watched him watch the sandwich.
“Too expensive?”
Tony’s head shot up. “Uh, no, I’ve got plenty of money.” His lips twitched as he looked at her. “I mean, maybe not Whitmore money, but enough to keep up a steady stream of books and flip-flops.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “No, I just… it seems like a waste for just me.” He flopped the second sandwich down onto another plate and pulled two bottles of water out of the refrigerator.
Randa stood to pick up her golden brown sandwich. “I don’t think it’s a waste if it makes you happy, Tony.”
He slowly smiled. “You know, I think you’re right. Besides, I could invite people over. It wouldn’t have to just be for me.”
Randa tried to ignore the sharp jab of jealousy that hit her somewhere in the vicinity of her heart at the idea of Tony preparing a beautiful juicy steak for some other woman. One who probably didn’t even know how lucky she was with her nine-to-five day.
Randa shrugged it off. “Right. Maybe it’s a good thing I travel all the time. I didn’t get the cooking gene. I’d probably starve to death. And I’d hate every minute.”
Tony laughed and sat down on the couch.
“I think if you wanted to learn, you’d be a chef in no time.” He pulled her down next to him. Randa folded her legs under her and turned so that her knees touched his. “I think you probably excel at everything you make up your mind to do.”
Randa felt the little flutter of pleasure deep inside. Maybe it was true. Maybe it wasn’t. But the idea that Tony thought she could do anything she wanted made her consider the idea that he was right.
She just had to figure out what that might be. It wasn’t enough to know what she didn’t want. She didn’t want to live her life on the road anymore. She didn’t want her father arranging his dynastic alliances for her. She didn’t want to be hungry all the time.
She took a bite of her sandwich and tried to strangle the moan that she felt but couldn’t completely silence it.
Tony laughed. “I take it you like my rendition of the grilled cheese.”
Randa nodded. “I love cheese. I want to raise a statue to whatever farmer or monk or milkmaid first came up with the idea of cheese.”
“You’re a cheap, easy-to-please date, Randa Whitmore.” The look on his face as he watched her was serious again, but not sad. “That first day, I was pretty sure you were the exact opposite.”
“I would probably have been offended at the suggestion. I was all wrong about you too.” Randa picked up the second half of her sandwich. “I thought you were intimidating, maybe dangerous.”
Tony frowned. “I’m not?” He didn’t look quite as happy with the idea that now she thought something else.
Randa laughed softly. “Oh, no, you are. You’re just so much more.” She took a bite of her grilled cheese and had to look away from his face to keep from choking on emotion. He looked pleased again. “I mean, you cook, you have a book collection to make a girl jealous, and that chest… that’s really impressive.”
He popped the last bite of sandwich in his mouth and set the plate on the floor. “I’m glad you like it.”
Randa followed his lead and finished off her bottle of water while she tried to figure out just what she was doing here. Getting in too deep. That much she knew.
Tony rested his hands on her naked thighs and Randa remembered suddenly what else she was doing here. Making memories.
She traced her fingers over his tattoo. “Always faithful.” Tony watched her hand but didn’t say anything. “I love how some tattoos really mean something.” She followed the line of names before she looked up at him. “What do you think, Tony? Would you be always faithful? To the right girl?”
Tony tilted his head. “What do you think?”
Randa smiled and tried to ignore the tears making her eyes itch and her nose burn. “I think yes.”
He nodded. “When I find the girl, she won’t have any doubt how I feel, who I love. I’ve learned the value of holding on to things, especially when they’re so good you can’t imagine how you found ’em in the first place.” His thumbs rubbed circles on the inside of her thighs. “And Randa, you’re that good. You deserve a man who understands that and will do his damnedest to hold onto you.”
A man like you? The words were on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to ask him. She wanted to know he was just as affected by this as she was. But until she could get her head together, it didn’t matter.
So she did what she was supposed to do to make this easy, light, fun. She smiled seductively. She leaned forward, rested her hands on Tony’s thighs and slid the tips of her fingers under the legs of his shorts. “Maybe I ought to get a tattoo, something to remember my Memphis trip by since I won’t have a hotel.”
“Like what did you have in mind?”
Randa straightened one leg out and hooked it over Tony’s thigh. “Music notes? Around my ankle? What do you think?”
Tony wagged his head. “I don’t know. Seems a little too average for you.” He reached down and wrapped a hand around her ankle before he slid it up her calf. “What else were you thinking?”
Randa was thinking she was already done with this stupid conversation, but she’d started it. “Maybe a lightning bolt on my hip with TCB underneath it? I learned from the Elvis Belles that it was kind of Elvis’s logo. ‘Taking care of business in a flash.’” Tony ran his hand up the length of her naked leg and reached under the loose edge of the T-shirt to rub his hand on her hip.
He squeezed and Randa did her best not to squirm right into his lap. “Maybe. What else?”
Randa pursed her lips. “Maybe Elvis’s name right across my heart?”
Tony pretended to think about it. “You know, I think we can come up with something better.” He yanked the T-shirt up over her head and tumbled her over onto the cushions of the couch. Randa’s laughter died as she watched him gaze at her breasts and stomach. “I’m just going to need to see every square inch of this skin before we find the right spot.”
Randa whispered, “I was really hoping you’d say that.”
When his first hot kiss landed between her breasts, Randa closed her eyes, wrapped her hands around his shoulders, and forgot about everything else.
Chapter Thirteen
* * *
EARLY MONDAY MORNING, Randa did her best to ignore the anxiety causing her stomach to cramp and her palms to sweat as she pulled her bags across the lobby to check out. Laura and Willodean were behind the front desk when she slid the key over. “Thanks so much for letting me stay, Laura. I’ve had a great visit here to Memphis.”
Willodean, dressed in another loud green Hawaiian shirt, black pants, and earrings that looked like bejeweled parrots, smiled up at her. “Even if you can’t go home with a souvenir hotel?”
“Especially since I’m not going home with a souvenir hotel. When I’m trying to find my identical room on an identical hallway with beige walls and beige carpets, I’m going to be happy knowing that there’s a Rock’n’Rolla Hotel in the world,” Randa said. And she meant it.
Willodean waved at Sam and he came over to help her with her bags. “Call Miss Whitmore a taxi, Sam. She’s headed for the airport.”
Laura slid an envelope with her checkout folio inside across the desk. “We’re really glad you came to visit, Randa. I hope you’ll come back for a longer stay next time.”
Randa had no idea how to answer that. She wet her lips and then opened her mouth to say something. She wasn’t sure what.
Willodean interrupted. “You know what I like about you, Randa?”
Randa shook her head.
“More’n how smart you are or how pretty, I like loyalty. It’s a wonderful thing to stick close to your family.” Willodean’s eyes were serious. “But sometimes you gotta ask yourself if they’d do the same for you. If you’re not too sure about the answer, maybe you do a little less for them and a little more for you. With the right kind of friends, family’s the easiest thing in the world to come by. You can build the one you want.”
Randa laughed. “Well, right now I just have the one.”
Willodean didn’t laugh. “Sure about that? Maybe you could have another choice. If you wanted it.”
All three of them were silent for a minute. Then Laura said, “Where’s Tony? I expected him to see you off.”
Randa busied herself with putting all her things away. “Oh, you know…”
Both Laura and Willodean crossed their arms over their chests and frowned.
Randa blew out a gusty sigh. “Fine, he’s sleeping.”
“You didn’t dose him with something, did you?” Willodean looked confused and a little worried.
“No, I snuck out like a coward.” Randa rubbed her forehead. “I just couldn’t figure out how to say goodbye.” And it seemed she’d already broken her promise about being honest with him. She wanted to say whatever it took to make him ask her to stay, but she’d told herself now was the time to stand on her own. So she was sneaking away. If Tony asked her to stay, her weak resolve to be independent would melt away.
Willodean and Laura looked at each other. Then Laura said, “And he was actually sleeping?” They both looked
at the clock over the desk. Just before eight o’clock. She got the idea that was unusual.
Randa shrugged a shoulder. “Neither one of us slept a lot yesterday.”
Laura and Willodean were quiet again until Laura laughed quietly.
Then Willodean leaned across the desk. “Please come back. I don’t care if it’s three days, three weeks, three months, or three years, you come back. Figure out what you want and come back. I’ll see if I can’t help you get it.”
Randa shook her head. “God, I can’t even… why would you say something like that to me? You don’t even know me.” Her parents, the ones who could give her the thing she wanted most in the world, tried to mold her into their own narrow expectations with so many rules and conditions, but Willodean, a stranger, wanted to help her. And just because she was a good person who thought people should be happy and she was in a position to help. The tears she’d been fighting welled up.
Willodean raised an eyebrow. “Don’t I? Well, here’s what I know. Sometimes you think you don’t have a choice so you just better make the best of what you got.” Willodean shook her head. “But that ain’t going to make you happy. And when it gets hard enough to settle for what you got, you take a crazy chance, take a risk, and find some pretty special places. This right here is one of those places, Randa.”
Willodean was right about that but she had no idea what to say.
“That Tony’s something special and he thinks you’re special too. I need more people like that around in my life. You figure out what you want. You come back. You hear me?”
Randa wanted to sit down and cry in one of the heavy chairs in the lobby. When Misty meandered over to rest her head against Randa’s leg, she did cry. And they weren’t pretty, delicate tears, but loud sniffles and a runny nose. Laura handed her a tissue and said, “Girl, I been there.”
Sam stuck his head back in the lobby. “Taxi’s here, Miss Whitmore.”
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