by Maria Geraci
Her throat went dry. “You’re leaving?” she asked.
He pulled out an envelope from the drawer in the nightstand and handed it to her. Inside were two airline tickets from Pensacola to Honolulu. One of them was in her name.
“Saturday morning for Hawaii. I’d like you to come with me.”
She stared at the ticket. “First class?”
“Why not?”
“This must have cost a fortune. I . . . I’m not sure I can get away.”
“We’ve already been through this. You can do whatever you want. Maybe you just don’t want to.”
“I want to,” she said softly.
“Then do it.”
She started to sit on the edge of the bed, then remembered her sweaty clothes.
“Go ahead,” Steve said, reading her mind. He shoved the suitcase and the clothes off the bed. It all landed in an untidy heap on the floor.
He sat next to her and took her hand in his. She was suddenly glad she’d come here. It felt . . . right.
“I need some advice,” she said. “About the senior center thing. In a couple of days, the whole town, including Viola—she’s my next-door neighbor and the head of the Gray Flamingos—”
“I know who Viola is,” Steve interrupted.
She nodded. Of course he did. After all, she was dating Gus. “They’re all going to know that I’m responsible for this mess,” she continued.
“How the hell are you responsible?” He sounded indignant.
She winced.
“Sorry,” he said, toning it down after seeing her reaction, “I just hate to see you this way. You’re eating yourself up for nothing. It’s business, Kit. Plain and simple.”
“I know that,” she said testily. “But I feel responsible. I can’t help how I feel, Steve.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered a few seconds longer than necessary, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “You’re not the one who initiated this deal. You only helped broker it. Ted Ferguson was going to do this with or without you.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself. But it’s such a cop-out. Like it or not, I’m an accomplice in this whole mess.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Hey, how do you know about Ted Ferguson? I’ve never mentioned his name before. Have I?”
He hesitated. “You mentioned his company, Ferguson and Associates. I’m familiar with him.”
“Well, you were the one who said I should listen to my gut. And right now my gut is all torn up inside.”
He sighed heavily. “Baby, I wish there was some way I could make this all disappear for you. The only thing I can tell you is that the people who really care about you are going to understand. As for the rest of them? Fuck ’em.”
Despite her mood, she let out a little laugh. Men always seemed to be able to break things down into the simplest common denominator.
He pushed her onto the bed, landing on top of her. “I know a way to make you feel better.”
“Oh no, we don’t.” She tried to rise, but she couldn’t budge two hundred pounds of Steve Pappas off her. “We can’t do this,” she said. “We can’t always end up having sex.”
“Why not? It’s what two people who are crazy about each other do,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
“We’re crazy about each other?”
He pulled off his shirt. “Aren’t we?” He tossed the shirt on the floor. His shorts came off next. Kitty sucked in a breath.
“That’s not fair,” she said. “Getting all naked on me.”
“Then get even,” he said, tugging off her running shoes.
“But I’m all icky and sweaty.”
“I like you sweaty.” His gaze slowly ran up her legs, over her hips and breasts, making her flush.
Maybe he was right. Maybe a little sex would make her feel better. It certainly couldn’t hurt right now. “Okay, you talked me into it,” she said, tearing off her clothes.
He smiled and raised her arms over her head, placing them on the headboard. “Don’t let go,” he ordered.
She grabbed the headboard, too fascinated not to.
He eyeballed the discarded clothes on the floor. “I don’t have anything to tie you up with. Maybe an old T-shirt or something,” he said, more to himself than to her. “And I sure as hell don’t have any nail polish so this is going to have to be a poor substitute for the whole ‘tie me up and polish my toes’ fantasy you got going. But I can give you a rain check on that.”
“Sure,” she squeaked. She waited for him to kiss her, or touch her breast. Or something. But he just stared at her. She began to feel restless. And a little embarrassed. She squirmed beneath his perusal. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he did find her too sweaty and icky after all. “Is something wrong?” she asked, hearing the vulnerability in her voice.
“I was just going back to that first night we were together.”
“Oh.” She laughed nervously. “I guess you must be thinking that pink feather boa would come in handy right about now.”
He trailed his fingers lightly down her throat and over her shoulder. “That’s not what I was thinking.” He clamped his mouth around her breast, gently sucking on her nipple until it got all stiff and pointy, then he started in on the other one. He took his time, lingering over them, his tongue hot against her skin.
Kitty sighed and went to reach for him, then remembered she was supposed to keep her hands on the headboard. The restless feeling she’d had before intensified. She rubbed the soles of her feet against the hard muscle on the back of his calves. She could feel the moisture pool between her thighs. She pushed her hips up and ground herself against his erection. “Steve . . .”
He glanced down at her, surprised by whatever he saw in her face. Kitty could only imagine it was the raw lust in her eyes. Not much foreplay needed tonight.
He ran his hands down the inside of her knees, spread her legs, then hooked them around his hips and slid into her. She didn’t want slow. She didn’t want gentle. He must have sensed it too, because be began to pound into her with a fast, hard rhythm that sucked the breath from her. From somewhere in the recesses of her mind she remembered Viola’s comment about safe sex and the padded headboard.
It had only been a few nights since they’d been together, but she felt like a stack of overdried kindling getting its first whiff of fire. Just when she was on the verge of coming, he stopped. Her eyes flew open to find Steve looking down at her. A trickle of sweat dripped off his forehead onto her cheek.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You want to know what I was thinking before? I was thinking that if I knew then what I know now, I would have never screwed up and left you that morning to wake up alone.”
Without waiting for her response, he picked up the rhythm. This time he went excruciatingly slow. But instead of losing momentum, they were right back to where they’d been. It was perfect.
After a few strokes, he stopped again. She sighed and opened her eyes. “What?”
“Tell me you’re going to go to Hawaii with me,” he whispered roughly.
Right now, she’d tell him anything he wanted to hear. And it would all be true. “Okay,” she whispered back.
37
Kitty tried for the zillionth time to walk out the door, but her mother wasn’t having it. “Mom, there won’t be anything for you to do but sit and watch. You’d be bored to tears.”
“I can be fun,” her mother protested. “I play bridge at the country club. I know how to do girl talk and be hip.”
“Did you just use the word ‘hip’?”
“You’ll never even know I’m there. Besides, I’ve always wondered what goes on in your Bunco group.”
“Sorry, Mom, but the answer is no.”
Her mother’s eyes watered up. “Please, don’t leave me alone in this house again. It’s been five days since I’ve heard from Larry. I can’t stand it. And you keep putting me off about t
he house offer. Has it fallen through and you just don’t want to tell me? Please, darling, I need to know.”
“Of course it hasn’t fallen through,” Kitty said. “It’s just . . . tricky is all.”
“Tricky?” Her mother began to cry. “I knew it. There’s no offer, is there?”
“Of course there is! Don’t cry, Mom. There’s an offer. A good one.” There was no sense keeping it from her mother a minute longer. Tomorrow Kitty was going to be outed by the Whispering Bay Gazette and the entire town would know. “The offer’s from me.”
“From you?” Her mother swiped away her tears. “But you keep telling me business has been slow lately. How can you afford to buy the house?”
“I’m going to be making a big commission soon. A huge one actually, and I’m going to use that money as a down payment on the house. So you see, everything is going to be fine.”
“How big a commission?” her mother asked suspiciously. “I mean, I know you can turn a nice little profit off a house, but—”
“It’s not from a house. It’s a large tract of land. Beachfront property, to be exact.”
“Oh.” Her mother looked impressed.
“There’s a developer from south Florida who’s going to build condos on the beach. And he selected me to be his broker.”
“Katherine, that’s wonderful!” Her face clouded over. “But are you sure you want to use the money to buy this house?” She waved a hand through the air. “Darling, I know this place holds some sort of sentimental value for you, but really. It needs a lot of work and this town is so . . . well, so uninspiring.”
“I’m positive, Mother. Now, don’t you feel better?”
“A little. But I still don’t want to stay here alone. Please, Katherine. I’ll never ask for anything again.”
Kitty’s shoulder sagged. Tonight, she’d wanted to laugh and get drunk and pretend everything was all right. Her proverbial Last Supper, so to speak. The last thing she needed was to babysit her mother. But she wasn’t heartless enough to look her mother in the eye and say no. Not when her mother was looking at her with puppy-dog eyes.
“All right, you can come. But don’t complain if you’re bored.”
Her mother raised her finger and made an X over her heart. “I promise. I’ll just sit in the corner and watch like a good girl.”
“This is Shea. At the sound of the beep, leave a message.”
“It’s me,” Kitty said into her cell phone. She was standing in Pilar’s kitchen, alone. “Where are you?” For that matter, she wanted to add, where was Pilar? At least Pilar had called to say she was running late to her own Bunco party. Work. Again. But Shea didn’t have an excuse. Kitty tried Shea’s house next. A sitter by the name of Courtney answered. Shea and Moose had both gone out for the evening but she’d be happy to take a message.
Okay. That was good. Shea must be on her way over.
It was twenty after seven. The rest of the Babes, minus Shea and Pilar, were already here. With Nick’s help, Kitty had managed to keep everyone happy with ample servings of tonight’s signature drink, mango daiquiris. But the natives were getting restless. She could only hold them off for so long.
Nick brought in an empty pitcher and started in on another batch of the daiquiris. “Sorry about this,” he said, filling the blender with a load of crushed ice. “Pilar’s job sucks.”
“I guess you’re used to it, huh?” Kitty asked, opening a bag of potato chips.
“Having an absentee wife? It’s harder on Anthony.” Nick put in the rest of the daiquiri ingredients. “Has she told you she wants me to get a vasectomy?”
A sour-cream-and-onion chip stuck in her throat. Kitty took a sip of her daiquiri and thought about the best way to answer that. She had promised Pilar’s mother she would talk to Pilar about the vasectomy, but so far there hadn’t been an opportunity. Which wasn’t exactly true, she thought guiltily. She could have talked to Pilar at least half a dozen times if she’d really wanted to. She’d just been too busy with the condo deal and with Steve and her mother and everything else going on in her life.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Nick said. “I already know. She’s told you everything. She always does.”
“She’s my best friend, Nick.”
He stared stonily ahead.
Fuck it. Nick was her friend too. “Okay, she told me about the vasectomy. And that the two of you hadn’t . . . well, hadn’t had sex in a while.”
“A while?” He snorted.
“Look, I’m like a Catholic priest trying to give married people advice here. Not a lot of practical experience to go by, you know? It just seems to me that the two of you can reach a compromise.”
“Pilar doesn’t want to compromise. It’s her way or the highway. You know how she is.”
For a second, Kitty was speechless. She’d never imagined things were this bad. Nick and Pilar were the perfect couple. If they couldn’t make it, no one could.
“What’s the real problem here?” Kitty asked. “You want more kids and Pilar doesn’t?”
“The real problem is that her job comes first. Before anything or anyone. Look at you. Holding down the fort at her own fucking Bunco party. Her job comes before her friends, her husband, and even her own kid.”
“So you want to make it worse and have more kids?”
“I want her to quit her job, that’s what I want. If she gets pregnant again, then maybe she’ll have to.”
“That’s so unfair. Pilar has worked hard to get where she’s at. But if her job is interfering with your marriage, then you have to tell her. Don’t try to force her into having another baby if she’s not ready. Stand up and be a man, Nick. Tell her you don’t want a vasectomy. Tell her it’s your body and the answer is no. Tell her everything you’ve just told me.”
“Gee, am I interrupting something?”
Kitty and Nick spun around to see Pilar standing in the kitchen doorway.
“Nick and I were just . . . talking,” Kitty said, trying not to act guilty.
“Sounds like it,” Pilar said tightly.
Shit. What had Pilar heard? “Can we talk about this later? Everyone is waiting on us.”
Pilar suddenly looked tired. “Sure.”
“I’ll go read Anthony a bedtime story,” Nick said, ignoring Pilar.
Kitty watched him exit the kitchen. She started to say she was sorry but Pilar cut her off by putting her hand in the air. “You’re right. We’ll talk about this later. For now let’s put up a united front for the Babes.”
Nick had set up the Bunco tables in the living room. The Babes were milling around, drinking their daiquiris and munching on the goodies Kitty had put out earlier.
“What’s your mom doing here?” Pilar whispered in Kitty’s ear.
Kitty glanced at her mother, who was sitting on the living room couch sipping a daiquiri with a little pink umbrella hanging over the side of the glass. “She insisted on coming.”
“Good thing Isabel didn’t catch wind of that. Could you imagine? Our mothers at Bunco?”
“I think your mother would be awesome at Bunco.”
Pilar rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.” She lowered her voice a notch. “Have you talked to Mrs. Pantini yet? About the senior center?”
“I’m putting it off as long as I can.”
“It’s not your fault,” said Pilar. “Just remember that.”
Kitty nodded. It was exactly what Steve had told her last night. Speaking of which, she still hadn’t packed for her trip to Hawaii. Or even told anyone about it for that matter. Maybe tonight, after everyone had left and she and Pilar had cleared up their misunderstanding, the three of them could have a long talk. She would confront Shea about her lies, and then she’d confess to the two of them about Steve.
“Where’s Shea?” Brenda asked.
“Shea’s running late,” Mimi said.
“Don’t worry, she’ll be here,” Pilar said. “I talked to her this afternoon.”
“We could p
lay with a ghost until she gets here,” Brenda said.
Frida made a face. A ghost was an imaginary player, which meant one of the Babes wouldn’t have a partner. It sucked playing with a ghost.
“Why doesn’t Kitty’s mom fill in?” Mimi suggested.
“Good idea,” said Lorraine.
“Mom doesn’t know how to play,” Kitty blurted.
Her mother jumped from the couch. Some of the mango daiquiri splashed onto Pilar’s carpet. “I’d love to play!”
“But you don’t know how,” Kitty protested.
“I play bridge at home. Bunco can’t be that difficult.”
“It’s settled then,” said Pilar.
What happened to her mother’s promise to sit in the corner and watch like a good girl? Kitty should have known this would happen. She counted to three before responding. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to let you play until Shea gets here.”
Her mother plucked the pink umbrella from her glass and chugged down the rest of her drink. “I really have to get the recipe for this smoothie.”
Kitty frowned. “How many of those have you had?”
Her mother looked offended.
“Okay, Mom, you’ll be my partner on this first round. That way I can talk you through the game. We’re rolling for ones. The goal is to roll as many ones as possible. If we roll three sixes, that’s a Bunco and you try to grab the dice—”
“You’re going too fast, dear. Slow down. What’s the object of the game again?”
Kitty gritted her teeth. “Never mind. Just roll the dice when I tell you to.”
“Can I have another smoothie first?”
The game went by in a blur. Everyone was busy chatting, catching up on post-Fourth of July vacation gossip. Liz’s son Dex was going to need braces, but she thought that at nine he was too young, so an entire conversation ensued about the pros and cons of orthodontics at an early age.
Kitty had trouble concentrating. Every few minutes she’d catch herself looking at the front door. When was Shea going to get here?
“Did you hear the latest about the big condo deal?” Lorraine asked. “There’s an article about it in tomorrow’s paper. Apparently they’re going to tear down the senior center.”