Matinees with Miriam

by Vicki Essex

  He sat on the edge of the bed and moaned as Mira climbed onto his lap and twined her legs around his waist. Her nails scraped lightly down his bare back—he didn’t wear a shirt to sleep—and she nipped his bottom lip. He flinched in surprise and grinned. He hadn’t taken Mira for the feisty sort.

  Gathering the hem of her T-shirt, he drew it up slowly, exposing her belly and chest, then her breasts. When her breathing stuttered, he paused.

  “If you want me to stop, tell me.”

  “Don’t you dare stop.” She pulled off the shirt, and finally, they were skin to bare skin.

  * * *

  MIRA LOVED SHANE’S BODY, the broad muscles of his shoulders, the crisp-haired expanse of his chest. He lifted her easily, turning them over in bed so she lay on the sheets while he kissed her tenderly, lips moving lower, across her collarbone and shoulder before skimming hot breath over her breast and taking a nipple into his mouth.

  She squirmed as heat blossomed in her chest and along her inner thighs. She wasn’t a virgin, but she might as well have been. Her college boyfriend, Tom, had been a selfish lover, and not particularly skilled. Shane was something else. A man with experience, who knew himself, knew women’s bodies and wasn’t afraid to use finesse. The exquisite attention he applied had all thoughts fleeing from her mind.

  His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh on the underside of her breast, and she arched into him with a gasp. His tongue trekked down to her navel until he snagged the waistband of her panties, drawing them down past her thighs, her knees, and leaving them somewhere around her ankles. As his mouth traced the vee of her pelvic bones, she panted.

  She delved her fingers into his hair and tugged. “I want you so bad—”

  “Soon, sweetheart. I just want...this...” And then his kisses descended, and Mira opened for him with a half-gasped cry.

  Pleasure spiraled upward, taking her to dizzying, breathtaking heights. And still Shane didn’t stop, his focus singular and riveted on her most intimate heart. Her muscles tensed, stretched taut.

  “Come for me,” Shane growled. “I want to feel you come.”

  It seemed too indulgent, too selfish for her to let go, to let that happen. But Shane didn’t give her much choice. A strum of nerves, the targeted assault right there had her suddenly clamping down hard, as waves of ecstasy slammed up against her like a surging tide pounding the rocks.

  He climbed over her, kissing his way up her body. She reached bonelessly for him in the dark, gathering him close as they joined bodies. They sighed together, letting their hearts set the rhythm of their lovemaking.

  Mira’s mind emptied of thought, running like the last few inches of a film reel—blank except for the hiccups of imperfect sound and light flashing across a silvery canvas as it spooled and wound tight around the core of her. Heat and friction and Shane’s night-dark eyes became all she could focus on. And as he climaxed, shuddering above her, she could only think of one thing.

  La Fin.

  The end. Of her, of who she’d been before this encounter. Things would never be the same after this.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THE MORNING AFTER came with alarming speed. Shane had thought there’d be an opportunity to sleep in, to relax with a cup of coffee, to gaze at Mira’s soft curves bathed in morning sunlight. He hadn’t planned on anything more than that when they’d finally gone to sleep, his arm around her bare waist, her fragrant hair tickling his nose. It felt like the first time he’d allowed himself a slow perusal of any woman he’d ever been with.

  Instead, his phone blared a loud, discordant note that had him practically leaping out of bed. He groped for the cell and jabbed blindly at the answer button. “’Lo?”

  “Shekhar, you sound terrible. Are you sick?”

  “Amma.” He shook the cobwebs out of his head and fell back on the edge of the bed. He glanced at the clock—it wasn’t quite eight in the morning. Worry furrowed through him—his mother rarely called unless something was wrong. “What’s going on? Is everyone all right?”

  “We’re fine. We’re on the road, on our way to see you.”

  His spine straightened. “What?”

  “Your father had a hankering to go fishing, so he left Sanjay in charge of the shop. We left Brooklyn about an hour and a half ago, and we’re on the road to Everville. You know he never leaves the shop on weekends, but ever since Priti’s party and the way you talked about staying in town, he’s been daydreaming.” She paused as the garbled sounds of his father’s voice came through. “He says he needs you to find out if that guy who took him out on his charter boat years ago is still around. His name’s Ben or Bill or something. He can’t remember.” She made a noise of disbelief and admonished him in Hindi.

  All of Shane’s good feelings drained out of him, but they were instantly replaced by guilt. “Are you planning on staying long?” He glanced at Mira, whose eyes had cracked open. She watched him warily.

  “Well, we don’t want to overstay our welcome, but if you’ll have us, it’ll save us the cost of the motel.”

  “Of course you will stay here.” He bit back a curse. “But I have a lot of work to do, so I’m not sure I’ll be a good host.”

  “You don’t have to host us. We know our way around town.” He could hear her joy. “I’m just so glad your father’s taking some time off. He’s been working too hard. It’s not good for his heart, not to mention his leg.”

  “Yeah.” Shane rubbed his forehead. “I’m just getting up now.”

  “It’s late for you, isn’t it? You don’t have a woman over, do you?” she teased.

  His cheeks heated, and he glanced at Mira again. She’d pushed up to a sitting position and was reaching for her T-shirt. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  “Your parents?” Mira asked.

  “They decided to surprise me with a visit. My father loves fishing.” It sounded like the lamest kind of excuse to get a one-night stand out of his house.

  Mira’s expression remained neutral as she pushed the duvet off. “I’d better get going.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Not sure how you’d explain me when your parents arrive.”

  “I’d tell them you’re a friend. Someone I’m working closely with.”

  She looked away. “I’m going to brush my teeth and get dressed. Will you have enough time to drop me off at the theater?”

  “Seriously, Mira, it’s not a big deal.” In fact, he wanted her to stay to meet his parents. She was a part of the town and its history, a woman he respected and whom his parents would approve of. Hardworking, dedicated, passionate, intelligent. Shy, maybe, but they’d appreciate that, too.

  “I can walk if I have to,” she said as if she hadn’t heard him. “It’s not that far.”

  “I’ll drive you.” She wasn’t sticking around. She was making that clear. And he knew he shouldn’t push her, but last night’s magic was fizzling out too fast for his liking.

  Maybe she hadn’t enjoyed it. Maybe she was regretting it. He thought he’d pleased her—had it been an act? No. Mira was many things, but she wasn’t a faker.

  “Can we talk?” he asked when she’d returned from the bathroom, fully dressed once more in her uniform of black jeans and black T-shirt.

  She held herself still like a deer who sensed she stood in a hunter’s crosshairs.

  “Last night...was amazing.” He took her clammy hands in his. “I want more with you.”

  Her blue eyes were so pale in the early-morning light they reminded him of turquoise beads, the pupils wide and dark. She glanced away from him as color crept up her neck. “I would like that, too.”

  He nearly did a double take. She’d been so skittish with him up to now he’d expected her to retreat, to tell him they shouldn’t be involved. “But...?” he probed, look
ing for the caveat.

  “But nothing. You should spend time with your family and I really do have to get back to town to clean up, do some work and talk to Maya. I didn’t even look at the receipts to see how we did. And all that stuff with Riley Lee Jackson...” She blew out a breath. “I’ll have to apologize. I didn’t want to freak out like that.”

  “You didn’t freak out. You were caught off guard. It was a perfectly natural reaction.”

  She lifted her shoulder again, dismissing the excuse. It seemed she’d never believe her feelings were valid.

  And how is all your scheming going to help with that? You slept with her, and eventually, you’ll be tearing down her grandfather’s theater. Her home. She’ll never trust anyone again.

  “Drive me to town and I’ll buy you a coffee,” Mira said, interrupting his gloomy thoughts. “You’ll probably need to pick up groceries and stuff, too, if your parents are staying with you.”

  “Good idea.” The domesticity of the moment struck him as both odd and comforting. Was it chauvinistic of him to like the thought of Mira as the little woman of the house?

  After a quick shower, he drove her into town, where she bought him his promised coffee, then he dropped her off at the Crown. The old building didn’t look quite so foreboding in the daylight with the boards off the doors.

  “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asked before she exited the car.

  “What about your parents?”

  “My parents will likely want to rest. Dad will get here, gear up and be off in a shot. Mom’s not a fisherman by any stretch, but she’ll keep him company on the water. They’ll make a full day of it, get dinner in town and probably stay overnight.”

  “I guess that answers my next question,” she said shyly. He raised an eyebrow in inquiry. “Should I come over again tonight?”

  He grinned broadly. “I’ve got a better idea. I’ll come to you.”

  * * *

  MIRA SPENT THE day half floating, half weighted down.

  Cleaning up the Crown was easier than she thought—the boys came around as promised and got the auditorium spic and span, or as clean as it was going to get, and all without Shane watching over them. There was no point in doing too thorough a job—who knew if the theater would ever be open again?

  It was that singular thought that made her dread her conversation with Maya. Spending the night with Shane hadn’t changed her mind about saving the Crown: she still wanted to keep the theater—she just didn’t want to reopen to the public.

  When she’d gone to bed, she’d been uncertain about selling, but with Shane’s parents’ early-morning call, she was reminded that the simple bliss of waking up in his arms in his pretty rented house was a temporary thing. He would eventually go back to his life in Brooklyn. They could never have white picket fences—being together meant she’d be reminded daily that she’d given up her grandfather’s legacy. And if she let go of the Crown, she’d be giving up the only thing that made her life stable and safe. She might never reopen, but she wasn’t going to sell, either.

  She bought coffees and croissants and headed to Maya’s consignment shop on Main Street. The bell above the door jingled, and the shop owner looked up from her laptop at the desk. “Hey, there you are!” She went and hugged her. “Yesterday was fantastic. Did you see the news this morning?” She gleefully pulled her toward the desk and spun the laptop around. “Riley Lee Jackson’s already put something up on his webpage. Look.” She scrolled down and hit Play on a video.

  Mira stared with a mixture of awe and horror as the handsome A-list actor faced the screen. He was standing outside the Crown under the marquee, talking about the importance of independent theaters, the history of the Crown and why it should be saved. He ended the three-minute video by pointing people to a crowdfunding website for the Save the Crown campaign.

  “The video went up this morning. It already has fifty thousand hits, and the campaign has made over twelve thousand dollars.”

  Mira’s jaw dropped. Blood rushed up into her skull. “But...but...why?”

  Maya grinned. “I think you underestimate the power of celebrity. People care about stuff like this. At least, they care about some of the incentives Riley’s offering. For ten bucks, he’s offering ballots for a chance to win a tour of the Infinite Destinies sequel set. It adds up quick, and on top of that, people feel like they’re donating to a worthy cause.”

  Mira tasted something sour in her mouth. They didn’t care about the Crown—they just wanted to be closer to Riley Lee Jackson.

  She knew she should be grateful—twelve thousand dollars was a lot of money. But with her newfound doubts, she couldn’t, in good conscience, accept that cash.

  “We made just enough last night to break even,” Maya went on. “So I’m thinking we should have another movie night, keep the momentum going.”

  “Maya...” Mira held up a hand. “I don’t know about this.”

  The shop owner tilted her head to one side. “What do you mean? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

  She sucked in her lip. “It’s what my grandfather always wanted. But...” She trailed off at the sight of Maya’s disappointment. “I don’t know that this is sustainable. People came out because it was supposed to be a one-off thing.”

  “But it won’t be a one-off thing now. If you run regular shows—”

  “We broke even, you said. But you were the one who applied for the licenses. Did you get your money back?”

  Maya’s smile broadened but her eyes slid away. “I just want to see the Crown back in use. And I’d like to see you happy.”

  Shane had said the same thing. He wanted to see her happy. Why did everyone think she needed their help to be happy? Didn’t they think she knew herself, knew what was best for her, knew how to make herself happy?

  Maya shifted. “Listen, I’m not going to pressure you or anything. I was happy to help because I believe in you and this theater, but I’ll back off if that’s what you want. Sit on it for now. Riley’s campaign has just begun and will draw more attention. We’ll see if we can make the crowdfunding goal and work from there, okay?”

  Mira nodded mutely. All she could think about was how much she didn’t want this, even if she should; even if it was what she’d set out to do in the first place.

  She shook her head. Maybe she didn’t know what she wanted for herself.

  “So where did you go last night?” Maya asked with a hint of a smirk. “The boys told me you left with Shane.”

  “I didn’t want to stay here with everyone still hanging around.”

  “You guys an item?”

  She pursed her lips. “No.” Skeptical amusement lit Maya’s eyes, and Mira blurted, “We just had sex.”

  “I knew there was something between you two!” Maya grinned hugely and gave her a friendly shoulder punch. “I don’t need details, but I have to know—how are you guys getting along? Or are you sleeping together out of hatred?”

  “No! I mean, I hated him to start. Well, not really hated. We just have different goals.” She stopped herself. Except for Janice, she’d never really talked to another woman about her personal life, and even then, she kept her darkest thoughts private. Something about Maya made her want to unburden herself.

  “So, it was a one-night stand?”

  “I don’t know.” Mira shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed she was even talking about Shane in those terms. They sounded so...unromantic.

  Maya hummed in thought. “So, what does this mean for the Crown?”

  “I’m trying not to think about it.”

  “Is he still encouraging you to sell?”

  “No. I mean, he hasn’t since...” She couldn’t remember. She’d admitted her feelings about reopening, but he hadn’t taken advantage of those doubts.

  Maybe it was all part of t
he long game. She hated that she was still looking for deception from him after their night together, but it seemed she’d never shake that need to protect herself, to rationalize every emotion and tender feeling from another person. Even now, she was trying to figure out what Shane’s angle was. After all, he’d been the one who’d suggested she get up in front of all those people and cameras and thank everyone for coming. And he’d been in on the surprise celebrity appearance. Perhaps he’d been trying to shock her into a panic attack and drive her into making a hasty decision. He’d achieved one of those things, yet hadn’t followed through on that logic. She eyed Maya and asked, “Did he say anything to you about Riley Lee Jackson’s visit? Like, suggest it was a good idea?”

  “No, I arranged all of that. I didn’t tell him until the day before the open house, and I don’t think he believed me, either. Frankly, it wasn’t a sure thing Riley would make it, considering his filming schedule. We even had a pretaped video ready in case he got stuck on set. Why?”

  “No reason. Thank you for everything you’ve done. Really.” She felt bad that she hadn’t appreciated all the effort Maya had put into helping her save her grandfather’s theater. Had she even acknowledged her in her mumbled thank-you speech? “Even if things don’t go our way, I want you to know I’m more than grateful for all you’ve done.”

  Sadness tinged Maya’s smile. “I know how jarring change can be. Life just keeps rolling on, and if we don’t move with it, we get left behind. I’ll admit, the condo project could mean a lot for the town, but we have to preserve something of the culture and history of Everville. Besides, it’s important to you. That counts for something.”

  They agreed to meet later that week, after Mira had more time to consider another movie showing, and then she headed to the grocery store. She hadn’t seen much of Arty over the past couple of weeks. After catching him kissing Janice during Casablanca, she had a good idea why.

  She found him stocking apples—an early harvest, as they were small but bright and crisp-looking. He whistled as he carefully piled them on the table, rolling one over his fingers and juggling it so it bounced off his elbow before bumping it into the air and catching it behind his back with his other hand.