Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series)

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Embraceable You (Irish Hearts Series) Page 11

by Mary Tate Engels


  "Girl, you're crazy."

  "Tell me, why did you come here to Haven's Point, George? Don’t you think it’s crazy-beautiful out there?"

  "Yeah, if you’re an artist and can just soak up the beauty around us. But if you’re in business –" He shrugged. "I'm here because it's a quiet place for me to write. Where the land meets the sea, that's where magic happens. Plus the people around here are so nuts, they inspire me."

  "I figured as much. From a business standpoint, what would draw folks in?"

  He sucked air through his teeth. "Hard to say. Why you’re still here is beyond me."

  Siena grabbed another box. "I have my reasons, but it's all about choices, not because this business is so great. Choices and the people here. Listen, what do you think about my limited choices here? Should I sell out? And leave."

  "It might just be your best offer."

  "You know they really do intend to raze this building, don’t you? They only want the property for a lighthouse mall. What will you do if they tear down the building?"

  He looked outside, then back to her. "If they do that, I’ll probably pull up stakes and go elsewhere. Further up coast. I'll find another spot where land meets sea. And the people are just as bizarre, I'm sure."

  "Why would you leave? Zack assures me they’ll make provisions for all the tenants in this building during construction."

  He nodded. "I know. But I think this whole thing stinks."

  "So do I, because it’s my building, or will be, probably."

  "Since you asked, you want to know what I hate most about it?"

  Siena nodded.

  "That our local government wants to take over the private sector for their own benefit."

  "That’s the way capitalism works. Or is it democracy? But what if I refuse to sell?"

  "Then you're flirting with disaster."

  She tossed the boxes into the back room. "We can take care of these later."

  "What? I thought you needed them."

  "I do. They’re for the books. I want to contribute to your shelves."

  "Not these books." He looked askance. "Romance and such?"

  "Sure. They’ll round out your historicals, mysteries and Sci-Fi. And balance your paranormals." She picked up a book. "Ever had a kiss from a vampire?"

  "I've written about it." He laughed devilishly.

  "Come on, George. Come with me. I’m looking for something."

  "Do I dare ask what?"

  "Mermaids." She made swimming gestures as she crossed the room.

  "Mermaids?" He backed up and rolled his eyes. "I never know what’s going to pop out of your mouth, girl. You know we have to hurry because of the storm that's blowing in."

  "I’m not afraid of any stinkin’ storm. Besides, we aren’t going far." Siena dangled a large key from a keychain. It looked like something to open a medieval castle. "They say there was a world-famous artist here about forty years ago who made some fabulous mermaids in stained glass and scattered them around town. Oh, and I hear one is in the Smithsonian and some big museum in Florence, Italy. Impressed? Maybe you could research that for me."

  "Hmmmm . . . why?

  "I have several of the mermaid stained glass windows here, in this building, mostly hidden. Claire says she has one in her house, too. I’d like to know if there are others around town and where they are. And what they’re worth."

  He sighed and followed her into the dusty, empty end of the building that was used for storage and rat bait. And there they found . . .

  Siena rushed to the pile of junk in one corner. "Look, George! Here’s another! And another! Aunt Addie must have stored all the extras in here. Everything he’d done that hadn’t sold. And when Luciano left, she just shut the door because no one around here valued them. Aren’t they beautiful, George?" Siena was so excited she couldn’t stand it.

  "Can't see much for all the dust."

  "When we clean them up, you’ll see they just shine!"

  "Well, for a bunch of nude women . . ."

  "They aren’t nude. They’re just tops down. And they’re art. Like Venus, nude and beautiful. Can’t you see them as art?"

  "Well, yeah I guess . . ."

  She patted the stack of perhaps fifty framed stained glass mermaids. "These, George, are going to help provide an economic stimulus for this sagging little town."

  He shook his head. "You're impossible to figure. And to understand. First you're talking about not selling this building. Then you skip to these damned mermaids. Now, economic stimulus. I don’t know about you, Siena."

  "What don’t you know about me?"

  "If you’ll fit in." He gestured with his hands. "I know what I'm talking about. I've never fit in here. I think folks are a little afraid of me because of what I write. Creatures from the sea and such."

  "But you stayed."

  "Dug my heels in."

  "Then George, you should know that I don’t care if I don’t fit in. It’s those who give a different view of things that provide energy for change. And this place desperately needs a change. Maybe these mermaids will do the trick. Or give it a kick start."

  "Look Siena, you’ve already got the mayor goggle-eyed, and he had to choose between the two most beautiful women in town. You’ve got all these high-fangled ideas about how to draw tourists to a small, nearly dead Down East coastal town. Now you’re talking about changing Addie’s shop to God-knows-what before we even have a proper funeral for her."

  Siena was stunned into silence. She blinked back tears. Her enthusiasm for the new shop and for invigorating the town with an innovative business flew out into the blizzard. Just wait until George found out what she wanted to stock in the renovated shop. He would spit vinegar! She surely would be fodder for his wild stories.

  She looked around. What was she doing here, anyway? Trying to change things when they had functioned just fine, thank you very much, for hundreds of years. She was caught up in the sexy allure of the mayor and could only think of how to stay here because of him. She’d been slapped hard with the pain of another woman going after her man and couldn’t believe she was now doing the same thing. She really wasn’t . . . or was she?

  Siena stared out the dust-laden window. Snow was starting to fall in earnest. Maybe . . . maybe George was right on all counts. She didn’t fit in here and never would. So, why the hell was she trying so hard?

  That night, dark as pitch outside, Siena heard scraping on the high steps to the outside door. She opened it enough to let her nose and one eye fill the crack. "Who – what?"

  "I came to see the mermaids," Zach said in an earnest voice. "Forget everything I said about this property. We’ll work something else out."

  The wind howled through the partially opened door. Was Zach telling the truth? Or was this yet another political ploy where Siena was the victim? She looked into his eyes, searching for the honesty she craved. Then she looked at his mouth with those luscious lips that promised her more pleasure than anything she could imagine.

  Giving in to her inner cravings, Siena pulled him inside quickly. "They’re in Aunt Addie’s room." With nervous giggle she said, "I almost expect her to appear around the corner and say, ‘Come on in, kids, and see my mermaids.’"

  Zach took her hand and kissed the palm, letting his lips linger while his tongue danced along her lifeline. Siena’s heart did flip-flops. Then he pressed their palms together, intertwined their fingers, and entered the empty room with her.

  Siena gasped. She hadn’t been in this room in years and had never seen the mermaids up close. There, over the pristine bed festooned with lace-covered pillows, was a large stained glass window featuring a group of beautiful mermaids, long hair streaming, glistening tails curled over the rocks on which they were seated. And, in true mermaid fashion, they were completely topless. The depictions were beautiful and artistic and oh yes, sexy. In the background was a fishing village, which, with a little imagination, looked a lot like Haven’s Point. She smiled. Yes indeed. This was vi
ntage Aunt Addie.

  "Wow . . ." Zach folded his arms and leaned back to get a better look. "I could like this."

  "Maybe you’re an art lover, after all." Siena stepped closer. "Look at that one in the middle. She could be Aunt Addie, a much younger version, of course."

  "Addie and her mermaids," he said, laughing. "Now this is art even I can enjoy."

  "I don’t see how anyone could think bad luck followed these beautiful creatures. Some sex starved sailors probably started it all when a group of dolphins followed their boats and they imagined women luring them further out to sea."

  " . . . luring them to their deaths."

  "It’s mythical, Zach. Not real."

  "Only if people believe it . . ."

  "What do you believe?"

  He shrugged.

  She turned and put her arms around him. "I believe these mermaids are going to bring all of us very good luck." She kissed him, pressing her lips softly on his. In that moment, Siena knew that whatever was happening between them was the best luck she’d ever had. He was the best, the very best for her right now. His energy encompassed her and she felt the sexual tension between them spread throughout her body.

  She opened her hands across his chest, pushing inside his shirt to touch his warm skin. Her other hand wandered slowly down to his waist. And lower. Their kiss deepened, and his tongue teased her lips open, then moved inside to sweeter depths.

  Wordlessly they began stripping off each other’s clothes, touching and kissing and in a hurry to get where they were going. Siena pulled him toward her bed in the other room. She couldn’t possible make love in Aunt Addie’s bed, under the watchful eyes of those weirdly familiar mermaids.

  "This is perfectly crazy." She worked feverishly to remove her sweater. "I shouldn’t be doing this. With you."

  "Me either." He unbuckled his belt. "Crazily perfect . . ." His lips found hers.

  "I should be mad! You want to destroy all I have." She pushed her pants down to her hips. "I should hate you! And sometimes I do!"

  His hands covered hers and finished the job, sliding his hands inside her panties to remove everything at once. "I’m the one who’s mad. Mad for you, Siena." He kissed her again and his hands caressed her all the way down, and back again. "I can’t stop thinking about you. You dominate me, day and night. And I hate that."

  "I just want you . . . Zach . . . " she murmured as she helped him undress with rough, hurried motions. "Want you to want me."

  "Oh, I do. More than I can say – "

  He kissed her nipples, tasting them gently and let his wet kisses trail over the slopes of her body until she trembled. He pushed her back on the bed, spread her wide and matched his body to hers. He was ready for her, trembling in his anticipation. They both worked, giving each other ultimate sensations with hands and tongues. She could feel his restraint, waiting until she was ready. More than ready, she gasped her pleasure as he entered her with a slow, sure fullness. He matched her stroke for stroke until they climaxed in heated unison. She wanted to scream in ecstasy, to cry out, to weep for joy. Instead, she lay very still, trying to make these feelings last forever.

  Afterward, they lay in relaxed splendor. His arms encircled her. She rested her head on his chest, buried her face against his skin, inhaling his forest scent.

  She drew lazy lines over his skin, caressing and soothing. "Zach, this is important to me. Tell me the truth. Did I have anything to do with you breaking up with Monique?"

  "Out of the clear blue, after tonight, you’re asking?" He kissed her shoulder.

  "She came by to see who had taken her man."

  "Damn! What's with her? She can't accept the inevitable. You know Siena, she and I – we were broken before you arrived." He turned his face away.

  "But you said you cared for her."

  "Yes, of course. I saved her life and that brings a certain . . . responsibility. And care."

  "For her sexual satisfaction?"

  He paused and took a deep breath. "I'm trying not to get mad, here Siena. Honest to God, we never quite fit. I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. She comes from a silver-spoon family. And she couldn’t forget it. Wouldn't let me forget."

  "These are just some things I need to know. Do we fit, Zach? You and I?"

  "Um-hum." He pressed his face against the side of hers and traced her curves with one hand. "Do we ever!"

  "Do I fit here?"

  "Absolutely. Every inch of you." He caressed her again with his palm.

  "I meant do I fit here in Haven’s Point?"

  "Oh." He paused. "Well, honestly I’m not exactly sure about that. You know these locals don't take easily to outsiders. Do you want to fit?"

  "Of course. If I stay, I do."

  "I'd rather you just fit with me."

  "If you spend the night with me tonight, would it be because you’re trying to bribe me?"

  "Bribe you?" He shifted and tried to look at her. "For what?"

  "For my property."

  "It probably wouldn’t look good to the town. But it’s not the reason I’m here, in your bed. It’s because . . . I can’t stay away."

  "That's lovely," she purred. "Because that's why I'm here, too. But I'm afraid this isn't good for business. And you need to know that I’m not going to . . . "

  "Not going to what? Stay? How can I change your mind?"

  "I'm staying. Just not going to sell out. Not the property, the building, or my own standards."

  He sat up, leaving her cool and wanting him on the bed. "What? Why?"

  She clutched the sheet to her breasts. "Because I’ve decided to make it a shop of my own. New merchandise. Different look. Change for the better. And I’m uncovering those mermaids. All of them. There are plenty more in storage and we’re going to open that little art shop downstairs and turn it into a mermaid gallery and -- "

  "Are you crazy?" He walked around, looking for his jeans.

  "No. I’ve come to my competitive senses."

  "Competitive? Nothing in this town is competitive."

  "That's the trouble. Maybe they'll take inspiration from me. What’s wrong is that everybody has lost their creativity, their innovation, their competitive spirit. And that's what keeps a town young and alive."

  "Well and good." He pulled on his socks and reached for his pants. "We’ll see how things go for you without any local support." He stuck one leg at a time in his jeans and tucked his package inside before zipping them.

  "You’ll come back begging, Siena. You’ll want me to buy this hunk of junk to save your ass. And you know something crazy? I’ll be there for you, because I . . . want to help you. And I have the possibility of using imminent domain. It’s for the greater good of the town."

  “And I have the power of due process. I’ll tie it up in court for ten years. For the greater good, indeed! You didn’t mean any of it, did you? You just wanted to be here, in my bed – "

  "Damn it Siena! Don’t say that! You know it isn’t that way with us."

  "I only want to hear the truth, Zach." Siena watched him dress, expressing his anger with each thrust of a leg, each jab of an arm. "The truth about how you feel about me."

  He put on his coat. "Don’t think this is over. I’ll be back."

  "Tonight? For the night?" She sat up on her knees, pulling the sheet to her breasts.

  "No, not tonight. Can’t. But if you need anything during the storm, if your electricity goes out, whatever, just call. We have a committee that’s on alert to help anyone in need during the storm."

  "I don’t want a committee, Zach. I want you."

  "I have responsibilities, Siena. And we have a blizzard on us. Can’t you understand my point? People may need me." He exited quickly, slamming the door. She could hear him stomping down the outside stairs.

  Monique’s warning came creeping back. He only cares about his job. He’ll do anything to get what he wants.

  Maybe it was the same with her. Whatever made Siena think it was anything more? And w
hy was she so crazy-crazy-crazy for that man?

  * * *

  While the storm did a huge snow job on Haven’s Point, Siena did her homework on the computer. She researched products and companies. She made phone calls and baked brownies with mint.

  She created a list of pros and cons, made a plus-delta chart. She brainstormed with circles and arrows, letting ideas go wild. She outlined a sketchy business plan and baked chocolate chip cookies with caramels and jalapeños.

  Siena thought of Goldie, her ex-landlord back in Boston, as a young bride standing up to her dominant father-in-law to sell bread in his butcher shop. Who would want bread when they could have meat? Who, indeed? The public. Her customers. Goldie showed him and everyone.

  And damn it, she would show Zach – and Haven’s Point – a different kind of business, one that would work. Create jobs. Offer hope. Give power through sales of the Amazing Lace these women create.

  Siena baked Goldie’s zucchini bread, adding a handful of dried cranberries for local color. She imagined following Goldie's lead through the murky waters of creating her own business. And the pride of finding her own way. She munched the warm sweet bread and dropped a few crumbs for the cats, which they rejected. And through it all, she became convinced that this was the right thing for her to do, right now, right here. And she wanted to do it, really wanted to make it happen.

  She knew, from experience and her evaluations, that she needed money. Not much, but some for an initial investment.

  If Zach’s devious offer, Monique’s threats, and George’s dire prediction that she just didn’t fit into Haven's Point couldn’t stop her, why would she let the lack of money get in her way? She'd find it, somehow.

  Siena gave credit to her genes from her strong, admirable aunt. But what held Aunt Addie back, kept her from succeeding further? Money? Her position as a woman? Determination and drive? Siena vowed to at least try to make something of this miserable little heap she found herself in. A part of her wanted to prove to George and Zach and even Monique that she really did fit in Haven’s Point.

  And another part of her really didn’t give a damn. She just wanted to make her own path. It was crazy, but . . . as Dana often said, it was her own path. Oh God, she couldn’t believe she was giving credit to some of her wacky mother’s philosophy. But she had those genes, too.

 

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