by Gem Sivad
“We need to talk.”
Shit. Talking was not on my agenda.
“About what?”
“Us. Work. Your schedule. My schedule. Us.”
I opened my mouth to tell him there was no us, but couldn’t quite choke out the lie. Oh yeah, there was a Marty, there was a Holly, and, growing in my tummy, there was the conjunction tying us together.
I didn’t feel pregnant. I felt horny as hell. I wanted to jump his bones. Instead, I shrugged and, turning my back on him, walked to the refrigerator. The weight of his stare blanketed me, made me breathless, and I resisted the urge to run. The question in my mind though was, should I run toward or away from him.
I reached for the fridge handle. He moved, the floor shifted under him. It was no surprise when his body heat and scent announced his presence before he wrapped an arm around my waist, drawing me back. My butt fit against his groin perfectly. It was difficult, but I resisted the urge to grind against his package.
I’d pulled on a pair of running shorts and an oversized tee. He slid his hand under my top and up my torso, cupping my breast, kneading it while he pressed his hard-on against my behind.
“You listening?” he growled in my ear and pinched my nipple. Well that got my attention, but not the kind he was after.
“No fair,” I panted.
“Fair,” he muttered, nibbling on my ear lobe before he sucked on it. When he turned me, so my back rested against the refrigerator door, I resisted the urge to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist.
I focused on his mouth instead of meeting his gaze.
“I think we should rewrite the lease agreement to include the master bedroom, specifically me and you in the bed.” He stated his opinion in one long growl that didn’t end when his lips covered mine. Only the growl became a rumble that vibrated through me by way of the chest plastered to my breasts.
I tore my mouth away long enough to mutter, “Fat chance.”
He huffed in laughter, stretched my wrists above my head, and proceeded to nuzzle my neck.
“What the crap is happening?” I gave up asking nicely. My garbled question ended when he took my mouth again, and this time he used his tongue. He went so deep, I thought I’d strangle on it. No, I was choking on the pheromones resonating inside me.
Oh God. He pressed against me and nudged my thighs apart, sharing his real reason for our conversation. His stance shifted, he held my wrists in one hand, and cupped my breast with the other. Liquid heat gathered between my legs. This was ridiculous.
He slid his hand down to my crotch and I struggled to release myself from his grip.
“There are people outside.” My snarl sounded more like a whimper. My nipples were completely stiff, topping already sensitive breasts. They itched, and I needed to rub them against his chest. Lower on my body, his hand lazily stroked between my legs, feeding the ache growing there.
He didn’t free me, though he dropped his hold on my arms and used his extra hand to cradle the back of my head as he deepened his kiss.
Someplace along the line I wound my arms around his neck as my body took control, absorbing pleasure through every pore. I leaned into his touch, grinding against his fingers…
“Harder,” I moaned into his mouth, willing him to obey.
“Oh yeah,” he muttered, and his gruff voice only made me hotter. As if he knew I teetered on the precipice, he renewed pressure on my clit, releasing my mouth long enough to whisper, “Come for me baby.”
Skyrockets went off. I mean I flew apart. Thanks to his pressing, and rubbing, and groaning into my mouth, I had an off-the-charts orgasm that left me sated, pliant in his arms and totally vulnerable.
While my legs threatened collapse, he held me against his body, rested his chin on the top of my head, cuddling me against his chest while I caught my breath and waited for my legs to stop trembling. He stroked my hair, patted my back, and hummed, making this deep sound of contentment that rumbled under my ear.
I don’t know how long we stood that way. It was long enough for me to gather my senses. Back in my right mind, I stood in his embrace, breathed his scent, and felt his hard length pressing against my mound. Not nudging, pushing, or insisting. But he was big and ready.
“Marty. You’re needed outside.”
Whoa. I didn’t know which crew member stood in the doorway, but Marty sighed and gave me a squeeze.
“Busted.”
“I need to use the bathroom,” I managed through lips puffy from his kisses.
He leaned his forehead against mine. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Just need to uh, refresh, you know.”
He kissed my forehead and stepped aside. I rushed into the downstairs john, put the lid down on the toilet, and sat. I felt a little dizzy, embarrassed, and really tired which was stupid since I’d just slept nine hours.
I needed to cry but I wasn’t sure why. I stood and peered at my reflection. I looked pretty much the same. No scarlet A stamped on my forehead from having sex against a refrigerator. Well not full sex. But sex. Geez, I came.
“And he’s going,” I muttered, splashing water on my face to get my brain firing. Our arrangement wasn’t going to work. This was way too personal for me.
I intended to refund his rent and send him on his way when I reentered the kitchen. But he’d left the room, and his go-bag sat on the table, suggesting his imminent departure. Before I joined him in the great outdoors, I inspected the bag’s contents.
Hmmm… Clothes. My stomach growled, announcing its disinterest, and that seemed as good an excuse as any to follow him to the backyard.
“Hey, I like your place.” Harley-Jane waved me over to her and handed me a plate as soon as she saw me. “Marty says he rented a room from you. You’ll be amazed at how much work you can get out of him while he’s bunking here.” Janie’s easy acceptance made my weird situation seem almost normal.
“How do you take your steak?” Church manned the grill while Marty and the other men, huddled up for a meeting.
“Medium.”
Harley-Jane nudged me toward the assorted bowls which proved to be potato salad in an iced down bowl, baked beans in a pan covered in tin foil, and a heap of roasted corn on the cob.
“Better eat dessert first if you’re going to have any,” Janie suggested eyeing the last piece of apple pie and an almost empty bowl of crushed strawberries.
While I hesitated, she darted forward, claimed the pie, cut a piece of golden sponge cake, drizzled the remaining strawberries over the top, and paused by the whipped cream. “Yes?”
Embarrassed at my own gluttony, I nodded approval as she piled on the sweet topping. “Midnight snack,” I told her, wrapping the plate in plastic wrap. “I’ll put this in the fridge and be right back.”
The steak and fixings were great. Megan slid in beside me, I introduced her to Harley-Jane, and they talked while I ate.
Most of their discussion centered on speculation about the meeting taking place.
“They might be leaving early for New Mexico. I hope not.”
“Gable said it’s a government job,” Harley Jane offered.
“They’ll be on the ground fighting fire where ever they are,” Megan said. Both women frowned.
I decided to listen in on the meeting. I stood, grabbed the back of an unoccupied chair, and dragged it toward the crew’s powwow zone.
“Did you need something, Holly?” Marty asked.
“I’m good,” I answered and plopped myself down. He nodded, continued talking to the men, and pretty much ignored me. I studied him as much as I eavesdropped.
The upshot of the whole thing was, I didn’t have to evict Marty; he was leaving today. Janie had been right about their destination. New Mexico. Twelve thousand acres of forested area on fire, with a hundred men already on the ground, and less than ten percent containment.
Their plans had been moved forward and a government plane awaited their departure. The men were grim-faced, the women
tense.
I understood enough to know Smoke, Inc. had been hired to penetrate the interior of the fire zone. According to Marty’s plan, they’d use explosives and foam to create a control line. Then they’d parachute into the cleared zone and fight the fire from the inside moving toward the firefighters already on the outer perimeter. It sounded dangerous. Janie’s expression telegraphed her terror.
The afternoon picnic ended with crew and families leaving. Gable and Janie were first to go. Everyone else followed quickly. I half-expected Megan to stay, but she said, “I’ll call you later,” before she left with Teague.
As the charcoal turned to ash, Marty tidied the backyard then went into the house. When he re-emerged, he carried the duffel bag in one hand and an envelope in the other.
“Take care of yourself, Little Bit,” he growled, pulling me close.
Little Bit? What kind of a nickname was that for someone my size? Did he have me confused with Kit again? I didn’t have time to ask before he tilted my head and kissed me silly. When he let me, I came up for air, and of course, he had orders ready.
“Instructions inside. Behave.” He wore his bossy frown as he shoved the envelope in my hand.
Behave? I felt an aching emptiness as I watched him walk through the gate, climb into his Hummer, and drive away, leaving me wondering how he’d managed to become such a huge part of my world in such a short period of time.
I sat in the swing and surveyed my kingdom. Except for the new lawn furniture and grill, the backyard showed no evidence of the gathering. Not so much as a napkin or plastic fork had been left behind.
The swing creaked as I pushed higher, closing my eyes, enjoying the breeze on my face. I still held the envelope in my hand. I opened my eyes and stared at it. As if he had a hidden spy camera monitoring my activities, which given Marty’s controlling instincts seemed possible, my cell phone rang.
Marty
“What?” she answered on the first ring like she’d been expecting me.
“Did you read through the contents of the envelope yet?” I asked. Long pause. I could almost see her looking at the sealed envelope. No surprise in her answer.
“No.”
“Well open it.” It had occurred to me as I’d readied to leave, that I needed to secure my kid’s future before I jumped again. I didn’t intend to die, but if I did, the little fellow would be taken care of.
“Do you have a spy-cam on me, for Pete’s sake? Monitoring me somehow?”
“No. Why, someone bothering you?”
“You are. What do you want? You just left here. I thought you were going out of town.”
“I’m getting ready to depart. Knew you’d sit on that envelope and do nothing with it. Read through it. Elaine expects to hear from you tonight. She’ll give you your schedule.” I’ve found that telling people what to do works well. Most would rather get along than argue. Holly demonstrated loudly she wasn’t most people.
“You have clearly lost your mind. I have my own schedule, thank you. And why would Elaine try to give me one? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“Insurance. Yours sucks. You said so yourself. Mine doesn’t. I can’t insure the kid without insuring the mother he’s gestating in. So, you work for Smoke Inc., now. After Junior’s born we’ll figure out something else.”
“You’re claiming me on your insurance?”
“I hired you. Elaine’s cutting the papers now. She’ll tell you when to report and what documents she needs—”
She hung up on me.
That went well.
Chapter Thirteen
Holly
High maintenance. I’d called it the first time we met. Marty required a lot of attention. After I hung up on him, he tried to call back. I didn’t answer. Then another number popped up.
“What?” I asked, half laughing.
“You’ve been avoiding me, Marilyn.” I almost dropped my phone as I hurried to block the caller. Geez-Louise, how did he get this new number?
I shut the phone off and pulled out the dessert tray I’d stashed earlier in the day. After gorging on apple pie and strawberry shortcake, I went to bed.
Maybe it was the late dessert, the forty winks earlier, or all the changes Marty intended to foist on me. Or maybe it was the idea of some creepy guy getting my new number.
For whatever reason, I couldn’t sleep and suddenly had a love hate relationship with my phone, fearful of getting a call at the same time, unreasonably disappointed when Marty didn’t try again.
He’s working, idiot. Get real. I lighted a scented candle and stood in front of my kitchen window, drinking a cup of morning brew and studiously ignoring Marty’s sealed envelope on my counter.
The force of his personality was such, I felt his will, urging me to get on with things and open it; at the same time, I considered using the candle to burn it without reading the contents.
Who knows how long my schizoid-duel would have lasted if a knock on my front door hadn’t interrupted my meditations. I had no idea who could be visiting me that early.
I went from alarmed to pissed-off when I peered through the spy-hole and recognized Marty’s employee.
I’d never officially met the older woman waiting on the porch, but we’d encountered each other when I’d gone to Marty’s office to return his hundred dollars. She’d been the woman wearing purple tweed.
“Good morning,” she said as soon as I opened the door a crack. I decided, playing dumb was my best option, so I pretended to not recognize her.
“I don’t donate to religious solicitations,” I answered politely and edged the crack closer to closed.
“I’m Elaine, Marty’s personal assistant and your ride to the office. Marty suggested that I pick you up since you don’t drive.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she studied me. I didn’t bother to hide my scowl.
“I told Mr. Jones when we last spoke that I appreciate his job offer but I’m already employed. I’m sorry you’ve made a trip for nothing.” I started to close the door the final inch when she stopped me.
“May I use your restroom?” Cagy lady, she’d decided to prolong the agony. Nodding, I stepped back, inviting her to enter and then led the way to the bathroom off the kitchen.
Moments later, I heard her emerge from the bathroom, but remained at the window with my back turned, hoping she’d take the hint and just leave.
“Coffee isn’t good for the baby,” she said behind me, her voice laden with disapproval.
How old is too old to sass? My mother would have washed my mouth out for disrespecting an elderly woman. Elaine didn’t really come off as elderly, but I remained silent in Mom’s memory. Nevertheless, words fought to get past my lips.
“Before I make the trip back to the office, we need to talk.” She seemed intent on making me feel guilty. Not happening. I’d allowed her use of my lavatory. I didn’t invite her to spend the day with me.
“I’ve gone ahead and made an appointment for you to see Dr. Lily Spencer this week. It would have been better had I been able to speak to you first to confirm your availability. Since you’re now working for Smoke, Inc., we can adjust your schedule to fit your medical needs.”
I glared at her image in the window glass.
“I tried to call. You didn’t answer so I’m here.” She set her briefcase on the table and pulled a laptop from it. Reluctantly, I turned to face her.
“How did you get my number?”
“Marty, of course.”
“Did you give my number to anyone else?” My phone stalker had jarred me more than I realized.
“Of course not. Personnel information is strictly privileged.”
“I don’t work for Marty’s company so I’m not personnel,” I corrected her. “Thank you for your concern but I’ll make an appointment with a doctor I choose. I’d like you to go now.”
The truth was, I’d been stalling. I couldn’t even say why. I knew I needed to find a doctor and… Everything was just so complicated now. I cou
ld feel panic welling from the pit of my stomach. As soon as Marty’s quarterback left the field, I’d go to my closet. But she didn’t leave.
Instead, she shrugged off her jacket, draped it over the back of a kitchen chair, removed a cup from my mug tree, popped a pod into my Keurig, made herself a cup of coffee, and took a seat at the table.
“Marty’s paternity rights allow him to cover the baby’s healthcare needs, i.e. he’s covering yours.” Dragon-lady stared me in the eyes, daring me to argue.
Since I didn’t know whether I was being bullied with legal authority or just bluff, I kept my mouth shut. What I didn’t need was sued on top of everything else.
When I didn’t tell her to get out, she nodded and opened her laptop. “I’ll just go ahead and fill out your paperwork while I’m here today,” While I fidgeted, trying to decide what to do next, she focused on a form on the screen.
“All right,” I said. “What’s it going to take to get you to leave?”
“Birth date, name of parents, medical history, work history, number of siblings, social security number.” She rattled off those items quickly, flipped screens on her laptop, and waited expectantly.
“Birthday, October 20, 1988. No parents. No siblings. No medical history because I’m healthy. My work history isn’t pertinent.” I gave her the answers I wanted to share and reeled off my social security number before adding, “Now you can go.” My personal history didn’t belong to anyone but me.
Even so long after I’d lost everyone, I had to steel myself to keep from blubbering at the memory. I clenched my teeth and willed my eyes to remain dry as I stared at the woman demanding information.
“You’re an orphan?” Elaine had the finesse of a rhinoceros.
“Yes.” I most definitely was, and having been on my own since I was fourteen, I didn’t take to being interrogated by anyone, especially Marty’s secretary.
“How pregnant are you?” Her suspicious look spoke volumes.