Sweet but Sexy Boxed Set

by Maddie James

  “How close is it?”

  “Two point six parsecs. About…oh…six point seven light years. I’m going to stop now before you run out of here screaming.”

  Cheris stood up, her eyes searching for him in the dark room. “Where are you?”

  She saw him, then, on the floor in front of the section of chairs where she sat. He lay on his back with his knees bent. He sat up and aimed the pointer at himself before turning it off. “Ready to go?”

  Actually, no, she wasn’t. “What about those stars up there close to Sirius?”

  The dot appeared again on the domed ceiling. “Here?”

  “No.” She pointed upward, and walked to where he sat on the floor. Geoff reclined and looked to where she indicated. “There. The three of them in a row.”

  The red dot moved to the three stars on the ceiling.

  “Aha. Orion’s belt. Mintaka. Alnilam. Alnitak.” He indicated each star with the laser. “Orion’s the hunter. Betelgeuse is his shoulder. Head is there. Body, and feet. That’s his sword hanging from his belt marked by M42, the Orion Nebula.”

  Cheris craned her neck for only a moment before walking a few feet away and lying down herself putting enough distance between them so he wouldn’t get any ideas.

  Wow. It was a better view from down here.

  “I thought Orion was in the sky in autumn.”

  “It is. The star projector is giving us a summary of the major constellations. How’d you know when Orion was in the sky?”

  “There’s a poem about it called Fair Use. ‘In the black expanse Orion, that great hunter, waits with arm raised, Arrow poised and twinkling belt—silent, searching. While below I pull my sweater to me thinking soon I’ll see my breath. The hunter pays me no mind, so focused is he on his aim.’”

  Geoff didn’t reply, and Cheris turned her head from the glittering ceiling and sought his gaze. Darnit. She’d gone and quoted poetry. He, science teacher that he was, probably thought she was silly. The darkness didn’t hide his burning gaze from across the carpet.

  “Trembling,” he continued the verse as he watched her. “The crisp leaves beside me hang on for dear life. They know the eminent fall and crunch underfoot. And I’ll strike a match to them, breezy cinders, and bitter smoke. Will rise, rise, rise to that great one who may, at last, stop and look on me. And have his turn to gaze and wonder.’”

  As Geoff recited the remainder of the verse, Cheris’ heart beat hard in her chest. How could he possibly know that poem?

  “How do you know that poem, and well enough to recite it? It’s so obscure, I didn’t think anyone else had even heard of it.”

  “It’s about stargazing and burning things. Two of my boyhood interests.” His head turned upward again, and the thin beam shot to the dome.

  Cheris watched as the laser danced on the ceiling. “You were a pyromaniac as a child?”

  “Every boy is a pyromaniac. I liked the poem because it was about stargazing in the autumn with the turning leaves and cool air.”

  Cheris sighed as she pictured Geoff as a little boy, fanciful and intelligent. “I thought you were the practical one.”

  Geoff chuckled. “Yes. I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Janie’s the reckless one, and I’m the practical one, at least I was until Friday night.”

  Cheris sighed as she watched the stars march along the artificial sky. “This would be a neat place to watch a movie.”

  “You’ve had your break from the silver screen then?”

  “Do they show movies in here?”

  “It’s possible. Got any requests?”

  Cheris pursed her lips as she pondered his question. In a planetarium it ought to be Science Fiction. But which movie? 2001 or Star Wars. They were no brainers, but her favorite was Gensa’s Genesis, hence her own costume from the movie. It was too cheesy to admit it though.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  Cheris swiveled her head and found Geoff had sat up and was watching her. She leaned on her hip and rested her head on her elbow. Tracing her finger along the pattern of the carpet, she studied him before choosing her words.

  “‘Don’t test me. I didn’t get here by playing games.’” At this point General Gensa had aimed her laser at Randeau Kilgan’s crotch. Nonplused, he’d smirked at her and said—

  “‘No one’s questioning your authority, General. But even you need time away from the bridge,’” Geoff quoted and peered at the remote in his hand. “Gensa’s Genesis, it is. Let’s see if I can get it for you.”

  The room lightened faintly, and Geoff jumped to his feet. Cheris strained her neck as she watched him walk toward the projector and disappear behind the wall surrounding it. The white noise of the projector ceased, and she heard a few bumps and rapid typing on a keyboard.

  The whirring began again, and Geoff entered the auditorium and settled himself on the floor. Aiming the remote skyward, he pushed a button, and the darkness resumed as the opening credits for Gensa’s Genesis began.

  Chapter Seven

  I had considered how the things that never happen, are often as much realities to us, in their effects, as those that are accomplished.

  —David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

  “What are you doing here?” Bill Connors bellowed as he glared at her over the partition which separated her work space from the rest of the office.

  Cheris looked up from her computer monitor and blinked uncomprehendingly at him. “I’m working.”

  “Oh, no you’re not.” Bill shook his head. “Milt is going to kill me if he thinks I’ve got you working on your honeymoon.”

  “My what?” Cheris stared at Bill as heads popped up from surrounding cubicles.

  Bill strode to her desk, pushed a couple of buttons on her computer, then turned it off. He picked up her purse and handed it to her. “Your honeymoon. Milt said to give you two weeks off.”

  “No, Bill. I’m staying.” Cheris turned back to her screen.

  Pushing her chair back, he shoved her shoes she had shed toward her with his big loafer. “Out. Out. Out.” He motioned for her to leave.

  Cheris picked up her shoes and shouldered her purse. “But I need to work.”

  “Not here you don’t. Not when Milton Stewart says you’re on your honeymoon.” He escorted her to the door.

  “We’re not taking a honeymoon.”

  “Not my problem.”

  He nudged her out the door and shut it as Cheris, in bared feet, stood on the front sidewalk in disbelief.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  The head of Net Enterprises gave her a mandatory vacation for her honeymoon? Some honeymoon. After they had watched the movie last night, Geoff had taken her home and promptly left. He hadn’t come inside for coffee at her invitation. He hadn’t kissed her. Not even a hug.

  Cheris slipped on her shoes and decided to walk the few blocks to Janie’s downtown studio, a converted store front on Main Street. As she walked in front of the building, she saw Janie through the large plate glass window. She knocked on the glass, and Janie waved her inside. The front room stretched the length of the space, its walls a soft marbled gray with art for sale hanging upon it. Paintings in various unfinished states rested on several easels throughout the room. The back had an office, a smaller studio for when Janie used models, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.

  Cheris opened the door and walked across the spotless wood floor to where Janie stood in front of a framed canvas.

  Janie smiled a greeting at her friend. “Hey, Sister. What’s up?”

  “I’ve been barred from work,” Cheris groused.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m on my honeymoon, apparently.” Cheris stood next to her and studied the painting with its pastel colors and gentle rolling waves. Cheris knew better than to ask what it was, as Janie’s standard answer was always, not finished yet.

  “Hmm. Does Geoff know? Where is he anyway?”

  “Am I your brother’s
keeper? How should I know?”

  Janie arched an eyebrow, her smile widening.

  “What am I supposed to do for two weeks?”

  “How about what you did on your wedding night without the cake and punch? That way you’d remember it at least.”

  “Nothing’s changed, Janie.”

  “The big ol’ hickey on your neck from your little bathroom excursion yesterday tells me differently.”

  Cheris slapped her hand to her neck. She’d covered the mark with make-up this morning, but it must have worn off.

  “Hey, guess who called me this morning?” Janie said, changing the subject. Cheris shrugged her shoulders, careful to keep her hand on her neck. “Your priestess. She asked me to come to the church and give an estimate on painting a mural for the nursery.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Something Biblical.”

  “Like Noah’s ark?”

  Janie snorted. “I’ll only paint Noah’s ark if I can put a few unrepentant souls drowning in the deluge of water.”

  “Ick, Janie. How morbid.”

  “What do you think that story’s about? God said, ‘I will wipe humanity from the face of the earth for I’m sorry I ever made them’. It’s a terrible thing to put on a nursery wall.”

  “Oh, I’m going to faint. Janie Arrowood is quoting Scripture.”

  “Smart ass. Hand me that towel over there,” Janie said indicating a paint-stained towel draped over a wooden backed chair. When Cheris handed it to her, she wiped her hands and stood up. “I would invite you to lunch, but it’s barely ten o’clock. Guess we could get some coffee and a doughnut from the Jolly Pirate.”

  Janie’s cell phone rang from the back office, and she strode across the room to retrieve it. When she returned, she had the phone pressed to her ear but her gaze was on Cheris.

  “Hi, Mom….Not since lunch yesterday. Why?...Geoff spent the night at the house last night?....What time?...Maybe he just came over there to get some sleep because she won’t leave him alone.” Janie laughed as she winked at Cheris who had blanched. “No. Don’t wake him up….Don’t, Mom.…No, I’m not giving you Cheris’ phone number….When are you and Dad going to Savannah?....Well, in the mean time leave them alone….Try.” An expression of irritation crossed her face. “I’m hanging up now….’Bye, Mom.” Janie pressed the screen on her phone and shook her head. “My idiot brother crashed in his old bedroom some time after Mom and Dad went to bed last night.”

  “I thought maybe he’d have to go back down to work in Georgia.”

  “This is his Spring Break. He’s got the whole week off.”

  “Oh.”

  “You and Geoff better come up with a plan to get that woman off your back. Otherwise, she’s going to bug the hell out of you until they leave on Wednesday.” Janie left the room and came back in a moment later with her canvas bag over her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get over to the Jolly Pirate before the PoPos take up all the stools at the counter.

  ****

  Cheris lay among the golden wheat in a field gazing at Geoff where he stood at its edge. She wore the same clothes she had on the night of the gala, the white skirt and turquoise shirt, her legs and feet bare, her hair loose and spilling out on the ground around her face.

  “Geoff,” she whispered. “Geoffrey.” She raised a hand, crooking her finger for him to come to her.

  The aroma of fried bacon and biscuits wafted in the air. Geoff cast an irritated glance behind him. He didn’t want to smell breakfast; he wanted to smell earth, wheat, outdoors, and Cheris.

  “Geoff?” Cheris’ voice didn’t sound like Cheris. It sounded more like…

  “Geoff, honey. Wake up. It’s ten-thirty. How late are you going to sleep?”

  His mother.

  Geoff opened bleary eyes to find the gauzy image of Monnie Arrowood standing inside his bedroom door holding something—a tray perhaps?

  He shut his lids willing the dream back, wanting to recall the image of Cheris supine before him.

  “Geoff.”

  Dishes rattled and weight settled next to him.

  He sighed and gave up on getting back the vision. With resignation, his eyelids lifted, and he groped the nightstand for his glasses. When he placed them on his nose, his mother’s determined face met his gaze.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He sat up careful not to knock over the tray she had set next to him on the bed.

  “Aunt Nancy left Sunday morning. I thought I could have my room back.” He picked up the coffee cup and sipped.

  “Why aren’t you at Cheris’?”

  Geoff didn’t answer. He placed the tray on his lap. If he was going to get the third degree, he might as well enjoy his mom’s excuse for coming in here.

  “Geoffrey Watkins Arrowood.”

  Oh, man. When she spouted the middle name, she meant business.

  “Shouldn’t you be at your wife’s house, sleeping late in her bed?”

  “I’m not welcome here?” He broke the biscuit in two and shoved three pieces of bacon in the halves before stuffing it in his mouth.

  “What is going on with you two?” Monnie’s expression moved from concern to anger back to concern.

  “Nothing,” he said as he chewed.

  “Don’t you give me ‘nothing.’”

  “Do you really expect me to disclose the private details of the relationship with my wife to you?”

  “You’re not too old for me to put you over my knee, young man.”

  “Yes, I am.” He shoved the tray aside and bounded out of the bed. He grabbed his pants from the floor he’d shed last night and put them on. Coming here had been a mistake. He’d have to go back to the hotel. Or sleep in his car. Anything was better than this.

  “Geoff, if you tell me what the problem is, maybe I can help.”

  His shirt lay on the top of the bureau. “No problems, Mom. We’re fine.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  He stuck his arms in the sleeves and pulled the material across his chest. “Sleeping.”

  “Won’t she let you get any sleep at her house?”

  Geoff risked a glance at the woman and saw her embarrassment. He suppressed a chuckle. His mom thought Cheris was insatiable.

  Would he ever find out?

  “We’re cool, Mom. Stop worrying.” He grabbed the second biscuit from the plate with one hand and his shoes with the other before striding across the room to the door. Where he went from here he wasn’t sure. Maybe the college. Barbara Adkins, the department head, had shown him a vacant office. Usually adjuncts didn’t get offices, but since he was going to be in charge of the planetarium, they’d found him one.

  Mom followed him to the landing and down the stairs.

  “Son, your father and I…”

  Geoff tuned her out. From past experience he knew anything after your father and I was going to be a lecture, and he wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

  Last night he’d been as good as gold, the perfect gentleman. He’d taken Cheris out, fed her, listened and talked to her, taken her to the planetarium, and brought her home before eleven. He’d walked her to the porch, watched her unlock her door, and wished her a good night. Then he’d gone up to Coleman Hill with his telescope for some stargazing until nearly four. After he’d driven to Mom and Dad’s and settled in his childhood bed, he’d watched the sun rise through the window until sleep had finally claimed him.

  He was in love with Cheris.

  Forgetting his socks, he paused at the bottom of the stairs and shoved his feet in his shoes.

  “…and this is supposed to be your honeymoon anyway, isn’t it? Even if you’re not taking an official one. How can you bear to be away from her when you could be…well…making love?”

  Yep. Definitely time to leave.

  “See you, Mom.” He made a sharp turn around the banister and headed to the door leading to the back carport.

  “Don’t leave now,” Monnie protested.

 
; Geoff didn’t look back at her. “You just told me I should be with Cheris. Now you want me to stay?”

  “Well, Geoff, really. I shouldn’t have to tell you to go make love to her. Should I?”

  The door loomed in front of him. Geoff grabbed the handle and pulled. He opened it wide enough to slip through then closed it quickly behind him. Jumping the three stairs to the concrete pad housing his mom’s car, he sprinted past it to his vehicle.

  The door swung open. “Can you all come for dinner?” she called.

  Geoff didn’t answer. His suitcase was still up in his room. No way in hell he was going back for it now. He’d have to see if Janie would retrieve it for him. He wasn’t stepping back in the house to get more marital advice from Tsunami Monnie.

  In his SUV, he jammed the key in the ignition and shifted gears reversing until the drive met the large paved circle in front of the house. He shifted gears again, turned the wheel, and headed to Janie’s studio.

  He’d determined Cheris needed space to process being married, and he was willing to give her some. But he also wanted to be with her, watch her eyes light up with humor or irritation, quote another movie to him, learn her ways—the bad and the good.

  He couldn’t very well make her fall in love with him if he wasn’t with her. And he only had this week. Next week he’d be back in Georgia teaching.

  With her working, that didn’t give him much time.

  Was this connection he felt to her about Janie’s painting? Had he admired it so many times on his wall that when he had realized she was a flesh and blood person he’d somehow transferred his love of the picture to a woman who resembled it?

  It was stupid.

  It wasn’t like him to be stupid.

  Or reckless. Or irrational. Spontaneous.

  And the biggest surprise of all of this is he knew how crazy it was, and he didn’t care. He knew every single reason why marrying Cheris was the dumbest stunt he’d ever pull in his lifetime, and he jumped in with both feet anyway loving it every minute. Loving her every minute.

  He grinned.

  Stupid-in-love idiot.

  ****

  Janie looked at the screen of her phone. “Hmm.”