Her legs were starting to shake, her blood pumping there like a heavy pulse.
The voices grew louder.
“We have to stop,” she said, even while she was pulling him closer.
His hands tangled in her skirt, cupping her bottom. “What do you want?”
“I want you, Joe. Now. Please.” There was the sound of footsteps getting louder, then just as quickly, they grew softer, more distant.
“Here, in the park?” His laugh was wicked. “But that’s so…unrestrained.”
She wanted to scream at him. Anything, anything to relieve the urgent ache between her thighs. Tight with frustration, she curled her hips up to his erection and ground against him—hard. It was with a high level of satisfaction that she heard his indrawn gasp. “Now.”
Her pager went off. In the quiet, amidst only the strained sound of her breathing, was the blasted chirping that she was ready to condemn to the bowels of telecommunications hell.
He lifted his head and stared at her. His blue eyes were filled with fire. With a trembling hand, she searched in her purse for the blasted device. She took a long look at the number flashing there. Powers.
She tossed the pager up and down like a baseball, eyeing the bushes, thinking how good it would feel to hurl the thing right over midfield. But the damned numbers kept flashing and finally she couldn’t stand it anymore.
By the time she’d made up her mind, Joe’s eyes had cooled, though the teasing gleam was still there.
He pressed one last kiss against her breasts and then fastened the clasp. Quite deliberately he buttoned her blouse, the light touches sweet torture against her oversensitized nipples.
“Joe…”
He waved a hand. “Like I said. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon.”
She straightened her blouse, and her skirt, making her heartbeat slow to a manageable rhythm. No big deal. Right? When she finally got herself together, she searched the path for him, but it was too late. Joe had already disappeared.
9
THEY WERE SUPPOSED to go out on Tuesday. At the last minute, Joe cancelled. He had to work. They tried to meet at a bar on Wednesday, but he got called in for something from his boss. Amanda didn’t want to believe he had an ulterior motive for not seeing her. When Friday rolled around, Amanda stared at the office phone all day, half expecting Joe to cancel the dinner with his parents as well.
Over lunch, she pored over old Clean-All memos and called Penelope, just to confirm.
Amanda had arranged for Penelope to meet Avery at the Barringtons’ house and then they’d all leave from there.
Just when full-blown panic emerged, late Friday afternoon, he called from the airport. He would pick her up at her apartment and they would go to his parents’ house. Apparently Joe stood by his commitments.
The subway ride was quiet, filled with commuters leaving the city at the end of the day. She didn’t say much, didn’t see the point. Apparently Joe didn’t either. But he watched her.
He was wearing a tie today. A tie. Even in a jacket and slacks, he looked rough and untamed. She noticed several of the ladies looking at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he was used to it.
She grabbed a pole as the car squealed to a halt.
“Bayside. Watch the door, please.”
Joe held out a hand. Tonight he was the gentleman. She held tight, lingering as long as she could get away with. She loved his hands, loved their strength and hardness.
When they got outside the station, the air cleared, and a breeze ruffled her hair. The Barringtons lived a few miles from where she lived when she was growing up. They rounded a corner and he pointed to a well-maintained colonial with a rose garden beneath the bay window.
“This is it,” he said, looking a little pale.
Her palms started to sweat, but she didn’t have any reason to be nervous. So she was meeting Joe’s parents. Big deal. Would they remember her? She’d only met Mr. Barrington once when he had driven her and Avery to a junior varsity football game. St. Albans was a long time long ago.
Before he rang the bell, Joe straightened his tie, and took a deep breath. Fascinated, she watched him. He was really nervous about this.
Why?
When the door was opened by a tiny woman with a loud voice, Amanda understood. “Joseph Matthias Barrington, as I live and breathe.” Phyllis Barrington. She swept him into a mother’s hug.
She stepped back and gave Amanda the once-over. “So…” she murmured, and then took Amanda by the arm, leading her inside the house.
The Barringtons’ place was actually quite homey, with lace doilies here and there that probably belonged to generations of prior Barringtons. The wall over near the fireplace was covered with family pictures. Sensing an opportunity to do some serious snooping, Amanda took a look. There was Avery with his dad at high school graduation, Avery throwing his cap into the air, Avery in a doctor’s coat, Avery holding up a fifteen-pound bass, presumably the same one that was stuffed—did they really stuff fish?—and mounted over the bar. And there was more. But not one of Joe.
Mrs. Barrington sidled forward. “Amanda, you must call me Phyllis. Avery’s told us so much about you. And you practice law. Imagine! A real barrister. Of course, Avery’s uncle Herbert was a lawyer, too, you know.”
She tapped Amanda on the arm. “Oh, listen to me. Avery senior just tells me to put a plug in it, but after thirty-eight years of marriage, I don’t listen to him. Just find my restful qi.”
Her qi? Amanda shot Joe a “help-me” glance, but Joe was carefully studying the old upright piano, strategically ignoring his mom.
“It’s about time we finally met, seeing as how Avery feels about you.”
“She’s my date, Mom. Not Avery’s. We’ve been seeing each other for a while, now.” Joe came over and threaded his fingers with Amanda’s.
She looked at him, wondering what he was doing. Was this a pretence of a pretence? He smiled at her, but it was strained. Obviously going home wasn’t easy for Joe.
She rubbed her thumb lightly over his, a comforting gesture more than a come-on. He squeezed her hand in response.
Not really knowing what else to do, Amanda smiled brightly. “That’s right.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Barrington looked away. “Oh.” And her smile faded some. “Would you like to see my artwork? I’ve got a gallery in the next room.”
Amanda noticed one painting, then another on every wall. “You paint?”
“Sculpt, actually. Marble. It’s so much closer to reality. Do you like sculpture?”
Amanda smiled as the last piece of the puzzle slipped into place. “Well, Joe’s been teaching me—”
The doorbell rang and Joe coughed loudly. “Better get that, Mom.”
While Phyllis went to the door, Amanda tempted fate and reached up and kissed Joe on the lips. Just once. Lightly, warmly. He looked at her, surprised.
“That’s a mercy kiss, isn’t it?”
“Why Joseph Matthias Barrington,” she murmured, and then kissed him again. “That was a mercy kiss.”
He looked ready to say something, but then Avery, his mother and Penelope walked into the room. Whatever he had been ready to say, it’d have to wait.
Penelope turned heads with her dark looks and perfectly polished veneer. She wore black as a rule, with Jimmy Choo pumps. Amanda didn’t do black very often, it tended to make her look washed-out. However, on Penelope it was sophisticated and chic.
Avery took charge, impeccable in a dark suit that seemed just right for him. “Mother, I see you met Amanda. Joe, may I introduce Ms. Penelope Farnsworth.”
Penelope looked from Avery to Joe, back and forth, like a dieter let loose at Ben & Jerry’s. “You have an amazing set of offspring, Mrs. Barrington.”
Phyllis looked at her boys and blushed. “Thank you, Penelope.”
Avery rubbed his hands together, pleased as always. Amanda noticed he seemed quite taken with Penelope, which was one small step on the way
to an Avery-free life. Mentally she cheered.
“Well, should we all depart?” Avery asked. “I hired a car service for the evening. It’d be quite snug in the BMW.”
Penelope nearly swooned.
Phyllis positively glowed. “We just love riding in the limo. Our Avery, he does so much.”
Joe looked at Amanda. “You ready?”
She grabbed his arm for support. “Sure.”
WHEN THEY ARRIVED at the Four Seasons, Joe saw his father waiting for them in the lobby of the restaurant.
“Son.” He clasped Avery’s hand in a manly ritual of affection.
Joe spared him and simply waved. “Dad.”
His dad smiled back. They all understood each other.
Avery Senior turned to Amanda and held her at arm’s length. Phyllis’s brows rose in warning, but he ignored her. “And this is Amanda. My, how you’ve grown!” He smiled at Avery, full of masculine pride.
Amanda, new to the Barrington family eccentricities, stepped back and took Joe’s hand. “If it hadn’t been for Avery, I’d have never met Joe.”
And then she kissed him.
On the lips.
That made three times tonight. Joe was counting. At that moment, he didn’t want his father there, or his mother, or Avery, or Ms. Penelope Farnsworth. Right now he wanted to be alone with Amanda. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and forget about everybody else.
Giving in to temptation, he kissed her back. Longer. With feeling.
Someone coughed, and the maître d’ murmured a low, “Good evening, Dr. Barrington.” Joe looked around and discovered that once again he’d embarrassed the family. He stared back at Amanda and shrugged.
Too bad.
They proceeded into the restaurant and were seated at a large round table in the center of the room.
Avery monopolized Penelope in conversation, and Amanda, well, Amanda was just watching him with pale, blue eyes. Tonight they were definitely hot. And for the first time tonight Joe found himself looking forward to dinner. He didn’t know if it was the tight red dress she was wearing, or something else, but she was smoldering, and in the best possible way.
He just wanted to drown in those eyes. The wait-staff came and went, bringing wine and appetizers. Avery had handpicked the menu for them this evening and everyone seemed to be too busy talking, discussing the food.
“He’s doing very well this evening,” Amanda said, tilting her head in Avery’s direction.
“Yeah.”
“It looks like he wants her.”
“Yeah.” He studied his brother, noted the way his eyes never left Penelope. Avery was never that centered on another person, except at work.
Amanda heaved a sigh, the red material of her dress lifting nicely. “Avery’s not the only one. I know what I want now.”
“And what’s that?”
“Why don’t you take me home and I’ll show you?”
Joe closed his eyes, picturing Amanda wrapped in white satin sheets, her hair streaming down her shoulders. He pictured her in his arms, watching her face as he moved inside her.
Would anybody notice if they left right now? He checked his watch. Three more hours.
Her dress caught his attention again. It wasn’t her style at all. He’d almost said something, but then stopped himself. Was she doing all this for him? Because that’s what she thought he’d like?
He lifted the bottle of cabernet. “Wine?”
Instead of answering, she took a fork and studied the feast in front of them. “Do you like oysters?”
“Yeah, they’re okay.”
She loaded an oyster on her finger, and raised it to his mouth. “Try this.”
He stared at the soft white meat, but knew he was hungry for more than seafood. He closed his lips over her fingers, his tongue lapping at the soft meat, slow and methodical. With a heavy-lidded gaze, he watched her, noting the way the pulse at her throat was pounding.
He was almost painfully hard, really liking the idea of leaving. His parents were totally preoccupied, laughing and chatting with Penelope and Avery. Nothing strange about that. Tonight he didn’t mind, though. He turned his attention back to Amanda.
His hand slid under the table, flirting with her thigh. He walked his fingers upward, letting her see exactly what he intended. She was biting her lip, her eyes half-closed. And then her knee bumped against the table, and the silverware went clanking. She jerked her leg away, blushing.
And then the next course arrived.
He tried to eat, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. His hand would stray near hers, an accidental touch. Maybe their thighs brushed up against each other, but each time he’d pull back. Patience, Barrington. Patience.
“Joseph, how are those planes doing?” his father asked, jerking Joe out of his fog.
“Good,” he answered.
“What planes?” Penelope asked, wiping her mouth daintily.
“Joe works for the airlines.”
“Oh, are you a pilot? I think that’s just so cool…”
Avery Senior coughed. “Ah, no, Joe’s a mechanic, but we’re proud of you, son.” He winked.
Joe wanted to slide under the table.
Instead, Amanda picked up his hand and traced her fingers against his palm. “You know, when you fly, you trust yourself to these hands. You trust that when he checks the instrument landing system, everything will be okay. When he inspects the turbine rotor discs, you know the engine isn’t going to shut down in midair, or when the oil pressure isn’t just right, you know he’ll ground an airplane rather than risk a problem. When you board a plane, there are a lot of people who work together to make sure that you walk off in one piece. Nobody ever thinks about that, do they? But that’s what Joe does.”
His jaw dropped. Good thing he had no food in his mouth, because he would have sent it across the table. Where the hell had she learned all that? She looked at him and smiled, that confident, lawyerly, “I’m going to be on 60 Minutes” smile, and he felt something pulling at his heart.
That something was Amanda.
10
THEY ALL WENT ballroom dancing at Some Enchanted Evening on 57th. It was an old-fashioned place that his Mom and Dad frequented on their anniversary. There were round tables circling the dance floor and a full band played old music from the 1930s and ’40s. Far above them, a disco ball shot stars on the ceiling. If he’d been there with anybody else, Joe would have spent the evening cracking jokes about how lame it was.
Tonight he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
One and one-half hours left on his date with Amanda. One and a half hours before he saw Cinderella safely home.
She was an excellent dancer—no surprise there. The way he figured, she did everything well. He swirled her around to the tune of some forgotten love song and pulled her in closer.
She snuggled against him. “I’m thinking you’re a really good actor.”
He smiled. “And I’m thinking you’re a really good wiseass.”
“What’s Avery doing?”
“Boring Penelope with his life story.”
“Really?” Her head jerked toward the small table, where Avery and Penelope appeared to be having a marvelous chat. “It’s working, Joe. I told you.”
He humored her. “Yeah. Maybe you were right.”
“Of course I was right. You’d be surprised about how many things I’m right about. Like us, for instance. Admit it, Joe. We’re good together.”
He kissed her, long and lingering, his fingers grazing over the curve of her shoulder.
His possessive gaze trailed over her, noting the designer outfit, the discreet line of pearls at her throat and her ears, the pinned-up hair, twisted and poufed. There were dreams and then there was reality.
Each time he looked at his parents, his mother waved at him, as if he’d never grown up. Well, she was wrong and soon he would prove it. As if on cue, his cell phone rang.
He walked Amanda off the floor a
nd answered. “Yes?”
“Joe, Buzz here. You wanted some extra hours, right?”
“Yeah.”
“We could use you here tonight. Got a few ‘B’ checks left over in the hangar. If you’re interested?”
“I’ll be right there.” Joe hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.
“You have a cell phone?” The way Amanda stared, he might have had two noses instead.
“Doesn’t everybody?” He kissed her quickly. “Listen, I need to leave. Come on outside, and we’ll take a cab home.”
“Leave?”
“Yeah. Work.”
“Work?” she repeated with a hitch in her voice, that had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with anger.
Of all the people in the world, he’d figured Amanda would be the one to understand this. While watching her mouth tighten with fury, he realized he’d figured wrong.
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
“What?”
“Work. Is this to teach me a lesson?”
Joe rubbed his eyes, trying to soothe the power-drill that was humming in his head. It didn’t help. “What are you talking about?”
“Why are you working so much?”
And it was about time she noticed. “Maybe it’s time I grew up. Look at you, look at what you’ve done. I’ve been telling myself that I was happy where I was, that I didn’t want anymore. Maybe I was wrong.”
Amanda went quiet. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Never better.” He kissed her once, and then again.
When she looked up at him, this time he saw uncertainty reflected in her eyes. “I need to see you, Joe. Alone. This waiting is driving me crazy.”
She thought she was going crazy? Joe’s hard-on was becoming a permanent fixture in his life. But he wanted their first time to be special. Something elegant, fancy. Something she’d remember for a long, long time. She walked with him out the door. “Soon, honey. Soon. I promise.”
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