by Melissa Good
“They will, huh?”
“Mmm.”
Well. Andy felt that little rebel inside him climb out. “Kin I go like this?” He plucked his sweatshirt, a really soft, comfortable one Kerry had sent. “Don’t got much else.”
Ceci smiled and let her held breath out. “I’ve got something else you can wear,” she whispered, then un-muted the phone. “Elli? No. Tell him I’ll be there.”
“You will? Oh, all right. I’ll tell him. Listen, Ceci, maybe we can come over, say tomorrow? I know I’d love to see Andy and hear what happened.”
“We’ll arrange something.”
“All right. I’ll see you later, dear.”
She hung up the phone and put it on the counter, then looked up for those vivid blue eyes. “Thank you.”
“You sure you want me to do this?” Andy asked. “Gonna stir them up like a bear in a honeybee nest.”
Eye of the Storm 189
Cecilia nodded firmly. “They’ve been telling me for seven years I should put my past behind me and move on. I never could. Maybe part of me knew. Certainly, a big part of me never stopped watching that front walk, expecting you to come up it one day.” She stroked his face very gently, then brushed back the soft, salt and pepper locks. “I want them to see what I was waiting for.” She was a little surprised to find her breathing irregular as she traced the faint smile on his face.
“All right,” Andy drawled, returning the touch and sending a definite tingle down her spine. “Glad you waited.” He inclined his head and found her lips, kissing her with an almost bashful gentleness.
Ceci slid her arms around his neck and pulled herself up and closer, craving the contact as though she were thirsting after water. His hands slipped around her waist after a moment of surprise, then she was lifted up into a much more comfortable position and snugged tight in a powerful grip. “Mmm.” She explored delicately, finding an unmistakable response that started a welcome fire deep in her guts.
Ceci let her eyes drift open for a moment, finding darkened, almost periwinkle ones watching her.
They both smiled.
Chapter
Twenty-one
“WHAT…IS THAT?”
Dar peered over Kerry’s shoulder. “It’s a door.”
“Not that.” The blonde woman gave her a look. “That.” She pointed.
“It’s a mannequin.”
Kerry pulled her partner to a halt outside the small, neon decorated shop. “Thank you, Ms. I-am-literal-as-the-day-is-long. I know that pasty white thing is a mannequin. What is it wearing?”
Dar walked forward and pressed her fingertips against the window, examining the figure in question seriously. “I’m not sure what you call it, but if it was a bull, it’d be a come hither ring.”
Kerry covered her eyes. “Oh my god,” she muttered. “I’m about to become educated, aren’t I?”
“Not with that kind of apparatus,” Dar responded mildly. “You don’t have the anatomy for it.” She opened the door and gave her friend a little half bow. “After you?”
“Ew.” Kerry sighed and girded her mental loins. “They don’t make those for girls then, huh?”
“Oh, they do.” Dar put a hand on her back and nudged her forward into the neon lit space. “They just use nipple rings.”
“Ni—” Kerry shut her mouth so fast she almost bit her tongue.
“Ow.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
The store was small and very cluttered. There were three display cases against the walls, mostly lit by pink and yellow neon light, and the ceiling was covered in hanging devices of all shapes, sizes, colors, and various degrees of hide curing. At least, Kerry hoped the ones that smelled rank were badly cured and not just badly used. She stepped forward cautiously, giving the two salespeople behind the counter a faint smile, aware of Dar’s tall, confident presence at her back.
“Hey there.” The girl clerk leaned against the glass, almost disgorg-ing her considerable frontal assets out of her leather bustier. “What can I help you babes with tonight?”
Kerry sucked in a breath to answer, then realized she had no clue in the world what to say. “Uh.”
“Mmm. Just browsing for now. But we’re looking for something in leather,” Dar answered over her shoulder.
Eye of the Storm 191
The male clerk snickered. “Ain’t everyone?” He adjusted the complex arrangement of straps and buckles that covered his somewhat unim-pressive chest. “Chicks really go for this stuff.”
“Oh yeah.” Kerry dredged up a smile. “Why don’t you check it out, Dar. I’ll just…um,” she waved a hand, “browse.” She edged away from her wickedly smiling partner and put her hands firmly behind her back as she circled the room, peering curiously into the glass cases.
Okay. She wasn’t a total innocent. She recognized the vibrators and the different brands of massage oil, the entertaining variety of rubbers, and the large, latex dildos, some of which with inexplicable appendages with tiny heads that resembled woodchucks. What was up with that? she wondered briefly, before dismissing it and moving on down the case.
Edible underwear.
Hmm. That had possibilities, though ice cream was just as tasty, and much more fun to put on as well as take off. Kerry stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Glad I thought of that. We’re out of fudge.” She made a mental note to stop at the store.
Rings. Kerry blinked and cocked her head to one side. Rings? She leaned forward and read the tiny print on a box. “Oh.” She bit her lip to keep from giggling. “Right, okay,” she muttered. “It’s like that X-files epi-sode that mentioned autoasphixiation. Sort of the same idea.” She paused. “Only lower and not quite as dangerous.”
“Hey, Kerry?”
“Mmm?” Kerry turned to see her beloved bunkmate holding up something to the alleged light. “Um. What is that?”
“It’s perfect. Just what you should wear,” Dar assured her, with a grin. “Here.” She tossed it over.
Kerry caught it, surprised at the weight. “Hey. It’s leather.” She sniffed it. Okay. So it wasn’t used.
“Yes, it is.”
Kerry glanced up at the decidedly mischievous tone, then examined her outfit. “Oh no.” She started shaking her head. “Oh, no, no, no…no, Dar…no, no. I am not wearing a leather bikini.” She held up the top, which was a creamy, cappuccino colored leather, with intricate stitching all over it.
“It’s not a bikini,” Dar objected. “That’s a skirt.”
“It’s a mini skirt.”
“Skirt’s a skirt.”
Kerry peered at the item. It was a very brief, also cappuccino colored leather bit, with a beautifully tooled leather belt. “Dar, I don’t know…”
“Comes with nice boots.” Dar held them up. “And some bracelets and stuff. C’mon, Ker. You’d look gorgeous in this.” She turned towards the girl clerk. “Don’t you think?”
The girl chewed her gum reflectively. “You work out?”
Kerry gave her a doubtful look. “Yeah.”
“No sweat. It’s a hot piece.” She waved a hand at her. “Go for it.”
Erg. Kerry was caught between a mischievous impulse and her natu-192 Melissa Good ral modesty. She glanced around the store to give herself a moment’s more time, then stopped and smirked. “Okay. On one condition.”
Dar crossed her arms and lifted a dark brow. “What?”
Green eyes twinkled visibly even in the neon that tinted them almost caramel. “You wear that.” She pointed.
Uh. Dar eyed the inky black leather vest doubtfully. There seemed to be more holes than leather, with strategic patches barely providing legal modesty. A fringe of leather strips depended from the shoulders and the sides were laced with the same stuff, exposing just about everything from armpit to hip.
Well. She exhaled. Daddy had always told me, “Dardar, if’n you got it, don’t be shy about showin’ it.” “Okay.” She flashed a smile at the surprised and outfoxed Kerrison. “I’
ll take both of these and throw in those wrist-lets too.”
“Hey.” Kerry recovered and reached for her wallet. “Hold on a minute.”
“Ah ah.” Dar held up a hand. “Fair’s fair. You get to rent the Harley, remember?”
Mmm. Right. Kerry gave in and handed the leather bikini over. Then she glanced around again and tilted her head up to examine a hanging contraption. Slowly she tilted her head one way, then the other, then she bent down and looked at it upside down. Finally, she turned to find Dar watching her with an amused look. “What is that?”
“It’s a harness.” Dar hefted the shopping bag and returned her credit card to her wallet. “C’mon.”
“What do you use it for?” Kerry held a hand up to stop her.
Dar put an arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the door. “Have I ever told you the story of Catherine the Great and her horse?”
“Huh?” Kerry’s brows knit together. “What does that have to do with a kinky sex store?”
“C’mon.”
“Well?”
She sighed. “She was into animals.”
“What?”
“You know, Kerry. Like all those sheep jokes?”
“What sheep jokes?”
“Or the ones about farmers and their cows?”
“Paladar Roberts, what in blazes are you talking about?”
Dar gave another sigh. “Hungry?”
“Dar.”
“I’ve got a great idea for dinner. It’s just a short walk. How about it?”
“Dar.”
“She used to screw her favorite stallion.”
Silence.
“Oh my god. That is so bullshit.”
Eye of the Storm 193
“No, really.”
“Dar, that is so not true. Didn’t you take Russian history?”
“I went to school in Dade County. They don’t require history.”
“Well, let me tell you, it’s not true. We did a course in…wait a minute.” Kerry pulled her lover to a halt. “Do you mean to tell me those hanging things were for people to use to have sex with?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, Dar. Why didn’t you just say so?” Kerry shook her head.
“C’mon. I’m starved.”
Dar chuckled and led the way to a bayside restaurant, tucked between a marina and the abandoned shell of what had been a theatre. It was a quiet night and she had no problem obtaining a nice table by a wide window, with a great view of the water, the boats, and tiny, gray clouds chasing each other across the moon lit night sky.
They ordered from the fresh seafood menu and settled back with a bottle of light, sweet wine. Kerry twirled her glass and took a sip, then regarded her lover through the warm glow of the table’s candlelight. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here.”
The shadows across Dar’s face shifted. “No. I haven’t either. Not for a very long time.” She took a gingerly sip of the wine, hoping her still chancy stomach wouldn’t object.
“Hmm.” Kerry looked around. “It’s nice. I’d have thought you’d like a place like this.”
Dar gave a slow nod. “Yeah, yeah. I used to…I um…brought the first person I went out with here all the time.” She took a sip of wine. “The last time we came here was the night we broke up.”
“Oh.” Kerry played with her napkin. “Sorry. We could have gone somewhere else, Dar. I didn’t know.”
“No, it’s okay.” Dar smiled, feeling the truth in that statement with a sense of incredible pleasure. “It was my choice, remember? I thought it was about time I let that part of my past go and enjoy coming back to some place I used to really like.”
“Wow. Okay.” Kerry was a little confused, but pleased. “Well, I like it here. It’s got a great view.”
Dar nodded. “Yes, it does.” She gazed across the table, oblivious of the twinkling lights outside. She smiled as Kerry blushed faintly. “The last time I was here…Shari told me I was such a dysfunctional social moron, I’d never have a relationship that lasted more than six months.”
“What a stupid, clueless jerk.” Kerry snorted. “I mean, look. Our relationship’s lasted longer than that. She obviously had no idea what she was talking about.”
Dar cupped her chin in one hand and smiled. “Yes, ours has,” she agreed softly. “It’s a first for me and I just wanted to mark the occasion.”
Kerry’s jaw just dropped. She stared at her lover in stunned surprise, trying frantically to come up with some kind of response for that. “Buh.”
She rubbed her face with one hand. “Jesus, Dar.”
“What?”
194 Melissa Good
“You know what I was doing the other day?”
Puzzled, Dar shook her head. “No.”
“Planning what to do on our anniversary.”
“Oh.” She chuckled. “Our first?”
“Our fiftieth.” Green eyes met hers with quiet certainty.
Dar just looked at her.
Kerry lifted her glass and touched Dar’s with it. “I was thinking maybe a tour on the Space Station.” She took a sip. “They should have weekend packages by then, don’cha think?”
“Yeah.” Dar’s face creased into a smile. “Sounds great to me.”
CHARLES BANNERSLEY CAST a critical eye over the room, reluctantly approving the starched servers who stood patiently behind the buffet and the newly buffed hardwood floors that gleamed under the soft, carefully calibrated light of the gallery.
“They did a nice job.” His twin sister Carolyn eased up next to him, her ginger colored hair reflecting the light. “The exhibit looks good, too.”
“Mmhmm.” He nodded. “Not bad. Not bad. Press got some good shots, and Edgar Evans was making billing and cooing noises over Ceci’s last piece down there. I’d say we’ve got a budding success on our hands.”
“Speaking of. Where is she?” Carolyn asked, glancing around.
“Don’t tell me she isn’t here yet.”
Charles shrugged. “You know her. I was going to stop by there this afternoon, but I got tied up in a meeting. Elli was whining at me the other day over Ceci acting strange.”
They exchanged sibling glances. “When doesn’t she?” Carolyn inquired, arching a brow. “Did you find her a date for tonight, Chucky?
I’m so tired of seeing her wafting around alone like some kind of tum-bleweed.”
He sighed. “Hey, I do my part, Cary. She just doesn’t cooperate.
Apparently I can’t find the right kind of guy to interest her.”
His sister put an errant bit of hair behind one ear. “Have you tried the local trucker bars?” she sniped. “Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”
They both laughed wryly. “Listen, I feel bad for the poor thing.” Carolyn shook her head. “She’s never going to leave that nightmare behind her until we can prod her back into some kind of social life and you know it.”
“I know, I know. I’ll keep try—ah, there she is.” Charles turned as he spotted their younger sister entering, dressed in a plain, but classic dress, in a dark aqua color that complimented her fair hair and pale eyes. “Well, she made an effort. What do you know?”
“Mmm.” Carolyn leaned towards him to watch. “Hey, she looks good. Got a little color to her cheeks for a change.”
“Yeah. Too bad I didn’t ask Bob to come tonight. I’ve been trying to get them hooked up for mo—oh my god.”
Eye of the Storm 195
Cecilia glanced behind her and held a hand out and tall figure entered, ducking slightly to clear the low doorframe. Their hands met and she drew her companion forward, turning to greet the tuxedo clad man who hurried forward.
Carolyn clutched her brother’s arm. “Chuck—”
“I see.” His voice was flat with shock.
“That can’t be Andrew.”
His nostrils twitched as he studied the man towering over his sister.
Dressed in pristine Navy whites, despite the dark hair
more sprinkled with grays than he remembered, and a new set of ugly scars, he surprisingly didn’t look too different. “Apparently it is.” His voice hardened.
“I can’t believe it. After all this time? The Navy said he was dead.
Where in the hell has he been?” Carolyn hissed.
“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care. But if he thinks he’s just going to walk back into Ceci’s life like this, he’s got another thing coming.” Charles twitched his jacket straight and headed towards the door.
“CECILIA, DARLING. SO glad I caught you coming in.”
Ceci held a hand out. “Hello, Edgar. Thanks for being here. It’s nice to see you.”
The art critic preened a little. “My privilege, as always. I wanted to tell you how much I love your work in acrylic in there. The seascape one, you know?”
“Yes, I know the one.” Ceci smiled at him. “Would you like to meet the inspiration for that one?” She turned and held a hand out towards a diffidently waiting Andrew, who still stood just outside the door. He entered, took her hand, and came up beside her. “This is my husband, Andrew.”
Edgar tilted his head back and gazed up. “A pleasure, sir. A pleasure…ah, Commander, is it?”
“That’s right.” Andy shifted a little inside the dress whites, a bunch looser than they had been, but all in all not too damn bad, considering.
Ceci had even given him a trim, though his hair was far from its usual regulation crew cut. He took the critic’s hand and returned his tentative grip with a solid one.
“Goodness. I had no idea you were married, my dear. But I’m so glad to meet someone who can inspire such wonderful art.” Edgar beamed at Andrew, who gave him a dourly reserved smile in return. “Congratulations, sir. Congratulations on such a lovely and talented wife.”
Andrew decided he liked the little penguin. “Thanks.” A motion caught his eye and he focused his peripheral vision that way. Well, well.
Cecilia’s older brother Charles was headed in their direction, and he didn’t look happy.
Charles was tall, almost as tall as Andy was, and had red hair liberally peppered with gray and thinning badly on top. He was about six or seven years Ceci’s senior and had always taken great pleasure in present-196 Melissa Good ing himself as the head of the family, after their father had died some fifteen years back.