Sidetracked

by Lola Karns

  “You had a deprived childhood.” She didn’t know the half of it, but there was no point in responding, especially when she continued speaking. “If you’re still here in the summer, you’ll have to try. I’m sure the kids running around your yard can teach you. Maybe I’ll even drop off a bug jar for you.”

  She bumped her shoulder against his. The welcome comradery quickened his heart rate. Even if she didn’t want to screw around, at least he’d have someone to talk with. Maybe she’d watch football or basketball with him. That’d be nice. “You need special equipment to catch bugs?”

  “Sure. If the fireflies can’t get air, they’ll die.”

  He nodded, because it seemed the right thing to do, but the conversation hit a dead end. Thinking was hard with her sitting so close, her thigh practically touching his as her hair sparkled under the porch light. “Excuse me. There’s something I have to do.”

  She set the glass on the porch and moved her arms behind her, as if preparing to leave. “Sorry to have taken up so much of your time.”

  “Wait!” He grabbed her arm, to prevent her from standing. Her eyes widened, whether from fear or because she sensed his desire, he couldn’t tell. “You have a spider web in your hair.”

  “Oh.” She eased back. His fingers slid along her soft, pale skin as she moved her arm away. “Which side?”

  “I’ll get it.”

  His gaze locked with hers. Her eyes issued a subtle invitation he could not ignore.

  HER FOCUS SHIFTED ENTIRELY to him. Why fight it anymore? She had babbled, hesitating to tell him what brought her here for fear once she did, he’d show her the proverbial door and leave her to imaginary conversations with ghosts and a one way ticket to replacing Miss Jones as the resident loon. If she left, she’d have no reason to enjoy that earthy, slightly exotic scent he possessed. She bet he used sandalwood shampoo or soap, or both. She remembered him from the diner, his masculine nose, so Roman, and clean fingernails. Strangers stood out in Belkin, especially men of a datable age range. She hadn’t realized over the scent of frying bacon and buttery hash browns how pleasant he smelled. Any man that didn’t smell of turpentine, glue, or the tools of the trade was a welcome improvement.

  The golden brown of his eyes retreated as his pupils dilated. It had been a long time since she’d seen it this close, but she recognized lust when she saw it. Her breathing grew slower and deeper as the seconds stretched into eternity. Maybe she wouldn’t have to be so alone after all. She might not be able to escape destiny forever, but a little short-term companionship was a great diversion.

  His fingers slipped down her bare forearms. Before she could lament the loss of his touch, his palm pressed against her hair and smoothed it until he reached the end of her ponytail. Her lips parted. A cool stream of air drew into her lungs. Although his gaze never left hers, he must have noticed the invitation.

  Wrapping his arm around her back, he closed the distance between them, crashing his strong lips against hers. His tongue probed her lips with a gentleness that belied the urgency she tasted on him. She invited him in with her tongue, relishing the heat of his mouth against hers.

  She had no idea if she arched into him or if he had leaned against her first. All she knew was their bodies sprawled across the steps and against each other in as many places as possible—legs, hips, chests, and lips. Even with the fabric between them, she could tell he hid rock hard muscles underneath his shirt. Her nipples puckered against her plain cotton bra, the buds swelling with each rise and fall of his chest against hers.

  His arm wrapped around her, holding her securely. He wouldn’t let her bump her head against the banister or otherwise come to harm. Danger and safety merged as eagerly as their mouths. No longer needing her hands to keep her steady, she let them crawl over his body. Through his chinos, his thigh muscles tensed in response to her touch. She dared not move her hand more than a few inches above his knee. She had a fairly good idea what she would find if she did.

  He groaned as she lightly touched her teeth to his strong lower lip. His response intensified her enthusiasm. She had better be careful. She might not be the most conventional girl around town, but she at least liked to go out on one date before she put out. This kiss threatened to undermine her rule. She ran her hand up the nape of his neck. His short razor cut hair tickled her palm. Her inner thighs squeezed in jealousy.

  His fingers traced her ears before trailing down her neck. The light touch sent her nerve endings into overdrive and even the cool kiss of the evening air tickled in the best possible way. She hadn’t been kissed like this ever. And she liked it.

  “Ewww. Gross!”

  THEY PULLED APART AS rapidly as they had fallen together. James stood and looked over the hedges to get a glimpse of their unexpected guest so he could take the kid to task. He couldn’t identify him. All the neighborhood kids with their blue or red shirts, jeans or basketball shorts, and white sneakers looked alike. They only varied in height.

  “Damn kids.” He muttered under his breath, but still loud enough his frustration came through. He didn’t like being interrupted, especially while kissing Claire.

  “It’s probably as well.” She reached up, touching his hand and threatening to ignite the flames between them all over again.

  He looked at her questioningly. Was she dismissing him after that incredible kiss? The one that rattled him to the core. One spontaneous moment had him rethinking how he wanted to spend his free time the next few months. Rather than parking in front of the television, he wanted to park with her. With her mussed hair and swollen lips lifted in a cocky grin, she appeared to have enjoyed herself too.

  “You made me forget we were on the front porch.” Not breaking eye contact, she stood, but kept her distance. “Let’s hope it was only one pre-pubescent kid that saw us. Here’s another thing about small towns, City Boy—rumors spread fast. Especially if it’s something worth talking about. And your neighbor in the pale green house over there, Miss Jones, is the local morality police. Let’s hope she wasn’t peeking out her window now; otherwise, she’s probably already called the city to complain about public indecency.”

  He stared at the house across the way. He hadn’t met his neighbors. He visited the local bars twice and didn’t see anyone his age. As for fostering warm fuzzies with the neighbors, he didn’t see much point. He would move on in a matter of months. And anyone with a connection to the energy company would take every little opportunity to infiltrate his life and save their job. He possessed little tolerance for schmoozers. His cousin, Danny, on the other hand, considered the efforts to court his good will one of the best perks of the job.

  “Thanks for the warning.” He meant it. Knowing he had a nosy neighbor meant he had to watch his actions, making sure he kept sensitive phone conversations at work or at least inside the house. “I should be more careful about going outside.”

  “Nah. You don’t want to miss sunsets like these.”

  “That I don’t, although I could do without the noisy neighbors next time.”

  “Without them, I wouldn’t have had a reason to stop by. They can’t be all bad. Although,” her eyes twinkled and her grin widened, “I certainly enjoyed the sunset from your porch and how you made me forget my mission.”

  Phew. He hadn’t been the only one affected by that kiss. He stepped closer but she stopped him with her palm. Her touch amplified the thumping in his chest. Heat radiated throughout his body. He struggled to make sense of her words. She rolled her eyes skyward as she broke contact.

  “Some other time. I do have to get home, but I wanted to warn you—well, whoever lived here.”

  “About?”

  “Miss Jones. I saw your garbage can on the street this morning when I went to work. She’s a stickler for the rules. Unless you want to pay a bunch of fines, you should wait until dusk the night before trash pickup to take your cans to the street. You should also have them off the street by dusk. She’s a fanatic about it. When she was more mobile, sh
e used to spend hours stalking the streets and reporting all houses out of compliance with the town code. Now she just terrorizes her most immediate neighbors.”

  “Did she ever get you in trouble?”

  She laughed. “More times than I can count. I did a lot of chores to pay off the city fines my family accrued on my behalf. I’m trying to be a better citizen now.”

  “I’m glad you’re not a saint, though.” Her cheeks turned a shade of pink that matched her lips. What else turns that color? With luck, he’d find out.

  “Thank you for the warning, Claire. Are you free tomorrow? I want to show you my appreciation.” He shrugged, hoping to belie his eagerness to see her again. And to kiss her. He needed to repeat that experience.

  “Not tomorrow.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I have a previous appointment.”

  “And I have to go to New York this weekend.”

  “Why the sad tone, City Boy? I thought you loved New York.” The saucy minx made a heart with her hands at the word love.

  “What about Monday? Here, or better yet, inside. I’ll make you a thanks-for-the-neighborly-warning dinner.”

  “You said the magic word. Dinner. I’ll come over at seven.”

  With a mischievous smile and a finger wave, she sashayed to her wagon. He liked the sway of her hips, and her confidence... and the taste of her mouth... and her. He liked her a lot. More than any other woman he’d known for an hour or so. As she disappeared down the sidewalk and out of sight, he realized he no idea what her phone number was, where she lived, nor her last name. And he wasn’t at all sure who to ask, other than a certain marketing director and there was no point in doing that. Under no circumstance would he mix business with personal pleasure.

  Chapter 5

  “Kevin, could you flip the silver switch second from the left?” Jo’s son stood before one of the free-standing three-foot by eight-foot model train displays she used to show the store merchandise in action. She had removed the miniature seesaw beside the school before he arrived, and together, they installed a new piece from her supplier, moving swings. It worked briefly, then stopped. Something on the circuit was amiss.

  “This one, Aunt Claire?” She wasn’t really his aunt, or kin of any sort, but Jo decided aunt would show more respect than having her son use an adult’s first name.

  “That’s the one.”

  His hand trembled over the control board. She counted in her head, 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, 4 Mississ- Click.

  “I heard the switch, but the stoplight didn’t work, unless I can’t see it.”

  “It’s not on, but I hear a buzz.”

  “Great. It has to be a burnt-out lightbulb then. I was worried mice nibbled the wire while I was away. Want to help me replace it?”

  The boy nodded and started to wobble.

  “I’ll get a couple of chairs from the back. You feel up to using a screwdriver?”

  “Sure.”

  “If any customers come in, tell them I’ll be right back.”

  She didn’t expect anyone to come in at the late hour of 5:30 on Friday, but she wasn’t going to lock the door until Jo came to pick up her son. She found the replacement bulbs, pulled out two red ones and dropped them in her apron pocket. After retrieving a screwdriver, tweezers, and two chairs, she returned. Kevin leaned against the mountain scene. She’d have a fit if anyone else did that, but Kevin was special, and with the way his eyes and shoulders drooped, he looked exhausted.

  “Your chair.” She set up the folding chair as close as possible to the workspace so he could reach across the short span of table to the flashing light.

  “Thank you.”

  “How’s school?”

  “Long.”

  “Surely it’s more than that.” She used the tweezers to remove pieces of gravel from the base.

  “This past week, it’s mostly been long. I’m too tired to walk home.”

  “Who picks you up?”

  “Mom. Or I ride the bus to Grandma’s house. Those are the days I get really tired.”

  “Okay, now that I’ve cleared the gravel, I want you to remove the screws. Fall is always a little rough, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t like when the weather gets cold. Moving is harder.”

  “You’re doing great now. Let me grab that first screw before it gets lost. Ready to start on the second?”

  He got into position without help.

  The door jingled. “Hello, you two. Ready to go home?” Jo raised a plastic bag. “I have cake.”

  “What type?”

  “Chocolate with caramel frosting. It’s the last slice.”

  “Any for me, mom?”

  “We have apple pie. Two slices too ugly to serve. I thought Aunt Claire would like the cake.”

  “Yes, yum, and thanks. I’m ready to wrap up, but I don’t think Kevin will let me leave until he finishes the job.” He returned her wink.

  “We’re changing some lightbulbs.”

  “Mr. Smythe would approve. Keep at it.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He’s my new therapist.”

  “He’s training to be a physical therapist. We’re part of his practicum.”

  “He comes all the way from Columbus to see me! He’s really cool. He has tattoos and plays drums in a band. Much better than the last one. She was always grumpy, and we never had fun.”

  “Is this the cute, single therapist?”

  Jo shot Claire a glance that said yes and shut up. “Kevin, we won’t ever get this fixed unless you finish that second screw.”

  “I’m trying.”

  The screwdriver slipped from his hands. His hands shook as he tried to retrieve it. Over Kevin’s head, she met Jo’s worried gaze. Sometime, when Kevin was either asleep or at school, she’d ask her friend the tough questions about his MD, which appeared to be getting worse. His muscles wore out so quickly. When he needed a wheelchair, she didn’t want Jo to worry about the expense. She nodded her head toward the far side of the room. “Help me put that cake away?”

  Jo followed her behind the cash register. “What do you really want?” She whispered.

  “Is Kevin going to need a wheelchair soon? He seems to get fatigued more easily than I remember.”

  “I’m going to meet with his father this weekend to find out what his insurance covers. His isn’t much, but it is employer provided so it’s better than the nothing I’ve got. Kevin’s joints always lock up more in the cold weather, so I’m afraid this may be the year he starts needing one.”

  Kevin was well within the range for those with Duchenne muscular dystrophy to transition to a wheelchair. Ever since his diagnosis, Claire had tried to help her best friend without insulting her pride.

  “You’ll need a ramp too. That club at the high school did a nice job constructing the one we use at the holiday set up. If I set up a couple of collections boxes both here and at the holiday train to make up what isn’t covered by insurance, will you make displays for both?”

  Jo pulled her into a hug. “Of course.”

  “I got it.” Kevin shouted from the other side of the room. “Can we go home now?”

  AFTER AN ON-TIME ARRIVAL and quick cab ride to the Fordham, Fordham and Schmidt, James entered the conference room for the 5:30 PM Friday meeting.

  “You’re late.” Uncle Daniel declared.

  James glanced at his watch. 5:31. Everyone else was there already.

  “Traffic.”

  His father drummed his fingers against the table. “Don’t dilly-dally, son. Illyana and I have Hamilton tickets tonight.”

  “I apologize for my tardiness.” He slid into a seat and reached into his messenger bag for his tablet, a handkerchief, and Tums which he stored them in a licorice tin and everyone in his family, including himself, hated licorice. He popped one.

  “Progress?” His dad didn’t waste words when it came to business.

  “Eight pink slips this morning and two early
retirements accepted yesterday.”

  “Real estate?” Uncle Dan was a land man.

  “Harder to untangle. Property is owned outright—”

  “Then what’s the big deal? You put it up for sale. It’s not like you had to renegotiate leases like I did, and even with that, I closed three stores outright, and put seven others on sixty-day notices.” Danny cracked his neck and straightened his shoulders. He was in ass-kicking mode.

  “Different industries. If we could sell, the land would need to be rezoned; second, we would need to pay for pricey environmental impact studies; and third, there would have to be demand for the land, which there isn’t. Trust me, I did my homework.” No need to mention the possibility of a wind farm. They wouldn’t understand, and he wasn’t confident enough in his research to be able to explain that idea. He did his best to ignore Danny’s stare, and focused on the people who mattered. But he didn’t see friendly faces there either. Next break in the staring contest, he’d take another Tums.

  “Will the business be profitable enough to sell in ninety days? Who are you approaching, Son?”

  “With all due respect, sirs, the energy industry plays by different rules than retail. You have set Danny and me up for an unfair fight because government regulations limit my actions. If he chooses, Danny can liquidate assets, close a bookstore and remove the payroll with only minor lease fees and Cobra costs.”

  “Cobra costs aren’t cheap,” countered Mr. Schmidt. Of the partners, he’d taught James the most about balancing longer term expenses.

  “Which is why I’m encouraging buy-outs. A store closes, people are out of a job and a place to shop. A power company closes and people are out of electricity, which tends to make them a bit grumpier, especially if no one else is filling the void.”

  His father narrowed his eyes. “The sooner you sell, the better.”

  His gut clenched. Either his bowels were trying to absorb his stomach or the other way around. “I advised against this investment for a reason.”