by Marie Force
“Just the ASAP thing—a few times.”
Blaine tossed the message into the trash and headed for his office.
“Aren’t you going to town hall?” Evelyn called after him.
“Eventually.” He could only imagine what urgent matter the mayor wanted to talk to him about. Probably the shop at the bottom of the hill—and its owner—had finally caught the attention of town leaders. Easing into his desk chair, Blaine ached from the sleepless night and the sexual marathon. The last thing he felt like dealing with right now was a verbal spar-a-thon with the pain-in-the-ass mayor.
Evelyn came to the door. “He’s on the phone again. He knows you’re here.”
Blaine groaned and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. At their last meeting, the mayor had made a comment about Blaine’s hair that he’d pretended not to hear. He hadn’t gotten around to cutting it and didn’t want to hear about that, either.
“Fine,” he said. “I’m going. Tell him I just left.”
As he drove his department-issued SUV up the hill to town hall, he practiced the deep-breathing techniques the counselor had taught him in the aftermath of the Eden debacle. In through the nose. Hold it. Out through the mouth. Repeat. Usually the breathing helped to calm him, but as he parked in front of the redbrick building that housed the town offices, Blaine was still agitated. Not the best frame of mind in which to meet with one’s boss, he thought as he climbed the stairs and headed for the mayor’s outer office, waving at the town clerk on the way by.
“Why, hello there, Chief Taylor,” said Mona, the mayor’s sixty-something executive assistant. She batted her false eyelashes at him as she did every time she saw him. “So nice to see you, as always.”
Blaine flashed his most charming smile, having learned long ago that the best way to get in good with the boss was to get in good with his assistant. “You’re looking lovely as usual, Miss Mona.”
“Oh well,” she said, blushing. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Are you doing something different with your hair?”
Her plump face lifted into a dazzling smile. “I had foils! They’re so expensive. Do you have any idea—”
“Mona!” The mayor’s bellow had her smile falling to a frown. “Send him in here right now!”
Blaine winked and shrugged on his way past, earning another furious blush from Mona. Inside the office, he glanced at the bald, red-faced, portly lump named Chet Upton. It was not for nothing that they called him Uppity Upton at the public safety building. His glance at Blaine’s hair was followed by a scowl.
“I need you to deal with the situation at the bottom of the hill,” the mayor said without preamble. “She’s causing a public menace parading around half naked, not to mention she’s making a mockery of our decency laws.”
As Upton’s face took on an unhealthy purplish tinge, Blaine hoped he wouldn’t need his CPR skills before this meeting was over.
“She’s already caused an accident down there, and I witnessed her naughty-nurse routine yesterday.”
A flash of anger all but blinded Blaine. Even though he knew he had no right to feel possessive, he hated the thought of other men, especially Upton, ogling her luscious curves. He put the anger aside to be dealt with later. “Wearing a costume is against the law? Since when?”
“Calling it a costume is actually generous. It was tiny scraps of fabric that barely covered the good stuff.”
Blaine’s hand curled into a fist, and it was all he could do to keep from punching the lusty look off the mayor’s face. “I’m surprised a happily married man such as yourself would look so closely at another woman’s tiny scraps.”
Upton sputtered. “Any healthy, red-blooded man would take a gander when a woman who looks like she does is prancing around barely dressed in public! Now, get down there and make it stop.”
“No,” Blaine said.
“No?”
“She’s not doing anything wrong. The council approved her application and gave her the right to open her business. I’m here to uphold the law, not harass hardworking, law-abiding citizens.”
His face still a startling shade of magenta, Upton sat back in his big chair and studied Blaine. “Do you know this girl?”
“I’ve met her.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What’s so great about her that you’re willing to stand here and defy your boss to defend her?”
Careful, Blaine thought. “I’d say the same thing about any other citizen who wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
After a long, pregnant pause, the mayor said, “Since you refuse to take action, I’ll place the matter on the council’s docket for the meeting on Monday. Perhaps they should reconsider her application. Until then, you make sure there’re no more accidents down there, or else.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else you might be looking for a new job.”
Blaine placed both hands flat on the big mahogany desk and leaned forward. “Don’t you dare threaten me. I’ve worked my ass off for this town for two years. I haven’t taken so much as a long weekend off, let alone a vacation. And don’t tell me how to do my job. If you don’t like how I’m doing it, say the word, and you’ll see my taillights heading for the ferry.”
Upton’s mouth hung open. “Now, wait a minute. I never said—”
“That’s exactly what you said.” Blaine spun around and headed for the outer office. As he winked at Mona, the mayor got in one last bellow.
“Get a haircut!”
Tiffany was alone in the shop when the bells jangled on the front door. Since she figured it was Patty returning from lunch, she didn’t bother to look up from the checkbook register that refused to reconcile.
“Um, excuse me,” a small voice said.
Tiffany’s head snapped up. A customer! A real live customer! Blaine didn’t count. His visit had been a mission of mercy.
“I’m sorry!” Tiffany rounded the counter to greet the frumpy older woman. “Welcome!”
As the woman took a long look around the store, her rosy cheeks grew rosier. “I think I’m in the wrong place. Someone said this was a gift shop.”
“Oh, you’re in the right place. We sell all sorts of gifts. What do you have in mind?”
The woman zeroed in on a rack of racy nightgowns and took a step back. “I don’t think—”
“Wait.” Tiffany tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. “If you tell me something about the person the gift is for, perhaps I have just the thing.”
“Well, um…”
“You know,” Tiffany said with a warm smile, “I forgot to introduce myself. Where’re my manners? I’m Tiffany Sturgil.”
The older woman hesitated before she took Tiffany’s outstretched hand. “Verna Upton.”
Tiffany’s mouth fell open. “As in Mrs. Mayor Upton?”
“The one and only.”
“Oh, well, why didn’t you say so? How lucky am I to have the first lady of Gansett Island in my humble shop?” Tiffany realized this was the single most important customer she’d ever have. Winning her over would go a long way toward bringing others in.
Verna released a nervous titter of laughter. “You don’t have to refer to me as the first lady. Just Verna will be fine.”
“All right, Just Verna it is. What can you tell me about this friend of yours?”
“She thinks her husband is having an affair,” Verna blurted out in a rush of words, as if she was afraid she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t say it fast.
“What makes her think that?”
“She said the spark has gone out of their marriage, and now she’s concerned he’s found someone else.”
Her heart thumping with nervous excitement, Tiffany recalled one of the sayings from her favorite self-help book: nothing ventured, nothing gained. She reached for the other woman’s hand and took the plunge. “May I ask you something that’s absolutely none of my business, Just Verna?”
&nb
sp; Verna smiled at the nickname. “Of course.”
“Are we talking about your friend, or are we talking about you?”
Verna’s face flushed to scarlet. “Me,” she said softly.
“Honey,” Tiffany said, slipping an arm around her, “you’ve come to exactly the right place.”
Elated by the successful, productive second day at the shop and tingling with anticipation about the night ahead, Tiffany grabbed the bag Blaine had left with her and was locking the front door when Jim appeared out of the shadows.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a low growl.
Startled, Tiffany dropped the shopping bag, and objects scattered at their feet. Burning with mortification, she squat down to quickly refill the bag, but she wasn’t quick enough.
Jim held up the vibrator. “Is this the kind of trash you’re selling in your little porn shop?”
Tiffany snatched it out of his hand and put it in the bag. “It’s not a porn shop, and don’t you dare come to my place of business and then report that I violated the restraining order you insisted on. Where’s my daughter?”
“With my parents. They and everyone else in this town are talking about what a fool you’re making of yourself parading around half naked in broad daylight. You’re acting like a common tramp, and I won’t have it.”
As Tiffany listened to the vitriol spewing from the face she’d once found so handsome and arresting, she realized she didn’t love him anymore. The discovery made her giddy. He no longer had any power over her. If he hadn’t been standing right there, she might’ve danced a little jig of joy.
She held the shopping bag close to her. While she didn’t love him anymore, she certainly didn’t want him seeing the other items in Blaine’s bag of tricks. “What won’t you have?”
“You. This.” He gestured angrily toward the store. “I won’t have my wife prancing around half naked in the town where I’m trying to build my practice. You’re doing this to embarrass me.”
“Have you forgotten that you divorced me after I worked like a dog to put you through law school? So that and the papers I finally received yesterday make me your ex-wife and give you no right to tell me what to do. And P.S., you ought to stop in sometime. I might be able to help with your little problem.” She glanced down at his crotch. “In the bedroom.”
His eyes narrowed, a sign he was about to blow. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I never had any idea what I was missing. But now that I’ve got something to compare you to, I gotta say, your technique could use some fine-tuning.” She patted his face. “Don’t worry, though. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”
Batting her hand away, he leaned in close to her. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re bounced out of here, so don’t get comfortable.”
“Give it your best shot,” Tiffany said with more bravado than she felt.
“Oh, I plan to, and until then, see if you can keep your clothes on in public.”
She forced a careless smile even though her heart pounded. “Now what fun would that be?”
“You won’t be so flippant when I shut down your smut shop.”
“As interesting as this conversation has been, Jim, I have somewhere far more exciting to be. So if you’d please get out of my way, I’d like to get to my car.”
Rather than move, though, Jim dug in.
For the first time since she met him in high school, Tiffany was a tiny bit afraid that he might be angry enough to strike her. “I asked you to get out of my way.”
Jim leveled a furious stare at her before he finally stepped aside. “This isn’t over, Tiffany.”
“Yes, it is. You saw to that. Now go away and leave me alone.” Tiffany brushed past him and fumbled with her keys but finally managed to get into her car. Her hands shook and her stomach ached but not because of the ugly exchange with her ex-husband. No, it was the threat to her fledgling business that had rocked her. Jim cared more about what others thought of him than he did about anything else. She didn’t doubt he had the wherewithal to put her out of business before she even got started.
She had expected some people in the town to disapprove, but she hadn’t expected anyone, least of all her ex-husband, to try to shut her down, especially after the town had approved her business application. Despite her bravado in the face of his threats, he had scared her. Right when all her energy was needed to get her business up and running, now she’d have to face off again with him, too. The idea of it exhausted her. Jim was a lawyer with significant resources at his disposal. What chance did she have against such a formidable foe? Especially one who had a law degree in his arsenal that she’d paid for.
By the time she got home, the earlier excitement and anticipation for her night with Blaine had turned to nervous despair. She poured a glass of wine and dropped into the single chair in her spacious living room. Sitting in the dark, she tried to figure out when, exactly, the man she’d once loved with all her heart had come to hate her enough to want to see her and her business ruined. It had happened, she supposed, right around the time he finished school and they returned to the island. He didn’t need her anymore and had shoved her aside to focus on his career.
Giving in to exhaustion, Tiffany closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the chair.
That’s where Blaine found her when he arrived after his shift. He was so intent on getting upstairs that he almost missed her sitting in the lonely living room chair. Stopping short, he studied her for a long indecisive moment. Something must’ve happened. Otherwise, she’d be exactly where he’d told her to be. Earlier, she’d seemed excited by his directions. Had she suffered a change of heart in the ensuing hours? Or had something else happened?
It occurred to him that he had two choices: wake her up to find out what was wrong or quietly leave with her none the wiser that he’d ever been there. The Blaine who had vowed to avoid projects like the plague should take option B and get the hell out of there. The Blaine who’d been moved by this woman, both in bed and out, squatted down, rested his arms on her legs and leaned in to kiss her awake.
She came to with a gasp, her eyes widening at the sight of him.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Oh. Hi.” She rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Eleven thirty.”
She moaned. “I can’t believe I fell asleep when I knew you were coming, and I was supposed to…”
Blaine smiled at the way she lowered her eyes in embarrassment when she recalled his directions. Could she be any cuter? “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, why?”
“I figured something must be wrong if you’re down here rather than in bed waiting for me.”
“It’s nothing.” She started to get up. “Just give me a couple of minutes.”
Blaine told himself to let her go. He was here to have sex with her, not start a relationship. What did it matter to him if she was upset about something? Except it did matter. He could tell himself a thousand times not to get involved, not to make her problems his problems. While he’d like to think he’d learned from his mistakes, none of his past disasters had changed who he was deep inside. So rather than let her go, he slid his arms under her, picked her up and turned to sit in the chair with her on his lap.
Right away, the scent of strawberries filled his senses and fired his desires. But he forced his thoughts away from the need that strummed through him whenever she was close to him and focused on finding out what had upset her.
She looked at him with eyes gone wide with surprise at the unexpected move. She’d probably expected him to carry her off to bed. “You don’t have to—”
“What happened?”
“It’s nothing. Really.”
“Tell me anyway.”
She sighed and relaxed into his embrace. “Jim.”
Every muscle in Blaine’s body tensed at the mention of her ex-husband. “What about him?”
“
He came by the store.”
“And?” Was she upset about seeing Jim again? Feeling guilty about what they’d done the night before? Did she want to reconcile with her lowlife ex? Was that what she was going to say? A stab of disappointment caught him off guard. Sure, he didn’t want to get mired in another messy relationship, but he didn’t want to see her back with a scumbag who didn’t deserve her, either.
“He’s going to do everything in his power to shut down my ‘smut’ shop.”
Relieved that her dismay had nothing to do with reconciling with Jim, Blaine didn’t think this was the best time to tell her the mayor planned to add her and her shop to the town council’s upcoming agenda. There’d be time for that later. “There’s nothing he can do, Tiffany. You’re there legally and have the same right to make a living in this town as he does.”
“He’s resourceful. If there’s a way to put me out of business, he’ll find it.”
“He’s probably annoyed that you’re getting on with your life without him and not sitting home feeling sorry for yourself. I’m sure that’s what he’s most upset about.” He’d grown up with Jim Sturgil, and in Jim’s world, everything was about Jim.
“He’s mostly mad about my advertising strategies.”
“I’m not wild about them myself.”
“Because of the accident, I know. But that wasn’t my fault.”
“Not just because of that.”
She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
His fingers, which had been flirting with the hem of her top, slipped beneath to caress her back. “I hate the idea of anyone else seeing what I get to see.”
Her lips pursed into an O that he found adorable. “It’s the best way to show people what’s for sale in the store.”
“I don’t like it,” he said, his lips teasing the sensitive spot below her ear.
“You don’t?” Was she intentionally squirming on his lap? He wouldn’t put it past her.
“Not one bit. In fact, the next time I see you out there ‘advertising,’ I’ll have no choice but to punish you.” His hand moved from her back to her backside, a not-so-subtle warning of what her punishment might include.