by J.D. Tynan
"Hey, little girl." He jumped into the pool and dumped me over, carefully keeping his thick head of John Elway hair from getting doused. "How's nanny life treating you?"
"Fine," I said and got comfortable again. "How's retirement treating you?"
"Are you kidding? You haven't heard?" He winked smugly and sat up on the edge of the pool. Josh had muscles everywhere, just like my dad. They looked amazingly alike.
"Hey, Dave, why don't you tell little girl here the good news?" Josh was such an arrogant showboat.
Dave cleared his throat and didn't look amused by his attempt to take over the spotlight. "You tell her, you stupid prick," Dave chided and tossed him a beer, narrowly missing my head.
"Hey, where's mine?" I yelled and held up my hand. A beer flew through the air and I caught it, opened it and had half of it chugged before Josh began again with his little speech.
"I signed with the Bills. Three-year contract. I made it. I made it to the NFL."
"No shit," I yelled out and patted him on the back because that's what he likes.
Ohhh, I so did not ever want to be that blatantly obvious about wanting attention. It made me ill. No wonder Dad always paid attention to him. He asked for it. Hell, he was still asking for it, even at age thirty-eight.
"Congratulations."
"Thanks, little girl," he said and then did his best to make me feel small. I should have known better than to let it get the best of me, but old habits die hard. "So, really, how is the nanny job going? Do you have to clean their house too, or do you just baby-sit?" Classic Josh all the way.
"I scrub toilets and vacuum and sometimes I do laundry," I lied. "But mostly I just watch TV, eat bonbons and make sure she stays out of trouble."
Dave caught the smirk on my face and burst into laughter. For the first time in our relationship, I felt like I had an ally.
Three hours later, after steaks and chicken had been devoured along with bowls of Mom's famous potato salad, Dave made the big announcement that Carrie was almost three months pregnant and then Josh had the audacity to stand up and propose a toast to himself for finally making it to the NFL. I mean, the man was just a kicker. It's not as if he's the next Kurt Warner, or Tom Brady. He had an ego the size of Texas.
My father took my mother's hand and stood up to propose a toast. "To our family. May we stay healthy and happy and honest with each other." He looked directly at me and gave me a wink. I think he was talking about my letter. I hoped he was talking about my letter.
After another couple of beers, Dave and I snuck out back to smoke cigars. Something we hadn't done since he came back from college one year and got me drunk just to be an ass.
"I want to hear everything that happened in Africa. I really do," he said.
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." I winked and felt a lot braver because of the beer. I started from the beginning and watched his eyes open wide at times. At other times, I thought he might cry, but mostly he just nodded, listened, and dropped his jaw every few minutes.
Who would have thought that my life was that interesting?
I talked and talked, and had just gotten to the part where no one would take our phone calls from Athens when we heard an obviously drunk Josh barrel through the door.
"You guys talking about me again?" he slurred when I shut up and looked up at him from the top step of the deck. Dave and I looked at each other and burst into laughter.
"You're so vain. How does Julie put up with you?" I said playfully, but honestly I meant every word.
Josh sank down on the other side of me and dropped his chin to his chest. "She's leaving me."
Dave and I both stared at him with eyes wide open.
"She came this weekend so Mom and Dad could see the kids, but Monday she's heading back to California with her parents."
I didn't know what to say. I had had no idea but then, again, I never kept in touch. I never asked him how he was, if everything was okay, or if he was even happy. I'm a horrible, horrible sister. "I'm sorry, Josh. I really am. Are you okay?" I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. He dropped his head onto my shoulder and groaned.
"No. I'm not." Then he swiped a tear off his cheek and grinned at me. "Enough about my sad life. What are you two talking about?"
I looked at Dave and decided now was a good time for some good news. "I was just about to tell Dave that I'm two terms away from my master's degree... Ha, ha." I grinned and liked the reaction I got from Dave. Who would have guessed that me getting a college education was more surprising than me killing people? Both my brothers looked dazed and confused.
"Why haven't you told Dad? Why do you still let him torture you like that? Are you sick?" Dave asked.
I shrugged and took a long puff on my cigar. "I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to knock his socks off."
"So…" Josh prodded with wide eyes. "What's your major?"
"Criminal Justice."
Josh laughed. My arrogant older brother actually laughed at me. I should have expected it. "Yeah right. Little girl, the cop," Josh scoffed and rubbed my scalp with his knuckles. "I just can't see it."
Dave chuckled under his breath, sent me an empathetic glance then raised his beer into the air. "To Charlie, the cop."
"To Charlie," Josh chimed in and I smiled.
My visit with my family was a great one. I was happy to see Josh and more happy to see Dave because it had been a few years. I think I was going to enjoy having Josh back in the States again, and even more excited that I now had a brother in the NFL. I was sure I'd be taking many trips to Buffalo to watch him in action.
We all sat down, had a family chat to discuss his break- up with Julie, and tried to make it somehow better for him.
The man has an overly inflated ego, so I have confidence that he'll bounce back. I know he loves his kids to death, but he's rich. He'll just have to figure out a schedule that works for him during the off-season so they can share custody. I never really liked Julie any-way. Dave's wife was nice, but Julie was one of those ditzy blondes with big boobs and painted-on eyebrows.
Dave was amazing. It was nice to have a confidant within my wacky family. We spent the rest of the weekend bitching about Josh and how Dave had felt inferior when they were teenagers, because Josh did everything perfectly. I guess that helped me put things in perspective.
I still didn't tell my dad about my master's or what really happened Africa. I didn't feel the need to overshadow Josh's impending divorce, or Dave's baby on the way.
Dave promised to keep his mouth shut about everything and he gave me his pager number at the hospital and told me to keep in touch. He actually asked me to be the godmother of the baby on the way. I cried. I guess Dave was a good big brother after all. I had to admit it. But then again, Dave also put gum in my hair and put my training bra in the freezer when I was thirteen.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Dave dropped me off in Portland on his way home to Seattle. I thanked him again for such a great weekend and then told Carrie to hang in there and send me a copy of the ultrasound photo so I could be the first to see my godson or goddaughter in the womb.
My flight to Hawaii was the first time that I had ever slept on an airplane in my life and I have been on many planes. I think I chalked it up to God owing me a break or two and I felt that I was in good hands.
Kaui was even prettier and more perfect than I had ever imagined. The best part was that it was all paid for. Everything from my greens fees to my Piña Coladas was being taken care of by Roald Munson.
"Your cabin is just to the left of the pro-shop, number 13," the nice Hawaiian man said from behind the front desk at Kapalua Shores, where I had reserved the honeymoon cabaña just because it was the best and, after all, I deserved the best.
I winced and took the key he handed me. I'm not a superstitious person by any means, but come on. I'm already unlucky in love, in travels and even making toast is a precarious chore for me these days.
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I looked into the sky with a smile. My luck had to change someday. Hopefully, a great white shark wouldn't eat me after all I'd been through. Again, I was taking it day-by- day, minute-by-minute and even appreciated the tiny rocks that were poking my toes. Then I had enough and shook my feet a couple of times to release the pebbles from my Birkenstocks.
"Wow," I think I said aloud as I dropped my new luggage full of brand–spanking-new clothes onto the bed. I so deserved this.
The fridge was packed full of bottled water, a couple bottles of select Microbrews. A bottle of champagne, some apples, one orange and the biggest pineapple I have ever seen. On top of the kitchen cabinet was a box of chocolate turtles, a jar of macadamia nuts, a giant bouquet of fresh flowers and a note from Bella and Roald. I smiled and removed the card from its tiny white envelope.
Hope your vacation is as wonderful to you as you have been to us. We appreciate you more than you'll ever know. Love, Roald
And in Bella's cute squiggly writing, she added…
I love you, I'll miss you and I'll bring you home a tee- shirt.
What can I say? It brought me to tears.
After a good cleansing cry and a nice long hot bath, I changed into my sexy sundress and intended to find someone to flirt with. It had been a long time since I'd had a date, a warm kiss goodnight or a hot sexual experience that left me breathless and wanting more. Right then I wanted more. This island had to be jam-packed full of single, horny men, looking for a hot babe in a backless sundress who was willing and able. Well, at least my body was. I wasn't sure that my heart would ever be willing and able, not since my breakup with Brick Miller--asshole extraordinaire--but my body constantly screamed for attention. I'm sure it had something to do with hormones, my sexually peaking years and chemistry and hopefully nothing to do with the fact that I wanted babies someday and time seemed to be ticking away faster every day.
I actually curled my newly highlighted hair, applied a small amount of eyeliner and rouged my lips. I was a woman on a mission.
***
After my mission failed miserably, I took a walk along the beach and kicked the sand around with my toes. I thought that I had changed enough over the past few months to get past my horribly stringent expectations of male companionship, but I hadn't changed that much. I still wasn't willing to settle for anything less than perfection in the man department. I didn't want just any man. I wanted a man who kept me on my toes. A man who made them curl with his kisses and a man who made my blood boil with just a glance. I knew who I wanted, and every other slobbering moron that I had met tonight paled miserably in comparison.
The sunset was gorgeous and I stayed and watched every millimeter of the sun as it dipped down into the Pacific Ocean. The colors it made astounded me. I loved the sound of the ocean. The pounding of the waves and the hiss of the salty water as it receded from the shore and fizzled into the sand. The ocean is an amazing thing. It makes me want to go scuba diving, parasailing, snorkeling; to do all those things that I had always been too scared to do. Wow, I wasn't scared anymore. I wanted to see it all, even eels and sharks and jelly fish. I smiled at the darkening sky as I laid my head back in the sand. I really was a new woman.
I was ready for dessert by that time, so I cruised up the sandy dune and back to my cabin. My travel agent was going to get a nice big box of chocolates for hooking me up with such an incredible spot, right on the beach with no one else around. I was sort of secluded and lonely, but the view was the best.
I slid the key into the lock, opened the door and stepped inside. I kicked off my sandals to keep from bringing sand into my perfect cabaña. The dim light from the Tiki torch outside lit up enough of the room for me to notice something move slightly out of the corner of my eye. I hoped it wasn't a giant flying cockroach. I narrowed my eyes on the dark shadow and quickly dismissed my cockroach idea. Bummer, cockroaches were a lot more fun than big scary guys sitting in my comfy chair were.
My heart not only leapt from its correct position under my rib cage, it fluttered rapidly and I flushed all over from terror. Okay, so maybe I did still have a little fear left in me.
"You're quite a very difficult woman to find, Charlie Ford." His deep voice was husky and tattered.
Thank God, he sounded American.
My heart flip-flopped again, but in a good way that time. I saw his lean arm ease toward the lamp, and then he clicked it on and sent me the sexiest, most confident smile I had ever seen. He eased forward and leaned so his elbows rested on his knees. He seemed completely relaxed and damned sure of himself. The man definitely had cajones.
I, on the other hand, was expressionless and bamboozled and so far from relaxed it wasn't funny.
He looked so much different than the last time I set eyes on him. His black hair was extremely short, and he'd grown a goatee. His face had healed nicely except for a small scar across his left cheek that was clearly visible in the dim light. I'd never been fond of Hawaiian shirts, but he managed to make one look sexy as hell.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come. It was as if someone had sucked my brains out through my ears and all that remained was undecipherable gibberish.
He just stared at me, willing me to speak and then tried to speed it along by raising one eyebrow and giving me a wink.
"You," I finally shouted because I was that mad he scared me, and that happy to see him. I moved toward him swiftly, unsure if I was going to fall into his arms or smack him in the face.
He jumped up and caught my fist in his hand before it connected with his chin. This man kept me on my toes. He twisted my right arm behind my back and held it tightly against my bare skin.
"Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked.
I whimpered in his grasp. I was so fucking happy to see him, I couldn't see straight, but that didn't change the fact that he deserved a good pop in the mouth. It had been six weeks. Six weeks without a phone call or a postcard to apologize for the interrogation room. Nothing.
His hot mouth closed tightly over mine when I didn't respond to his question. I think at that time my body language told him exactly what he wanted to know. I couldn't get enough of him and when I felt the warmth of his tongue touch mine, I crawled up his body and wrapped my thighs around his hips. I'd never felt so much raw desire for a man before. It was as if I was being sucked into a vortex of sexual need and nothing short of death was going to stop me from crawling into his shorts. Besides, it was very cool to be kissing Secret Agent Man again.
Then again…
I pulled back abruptly and gave him a glare, dropped my bare feet to the tile floor and moved away from the hand that had just clamped onto my erect nipple. I had so many questions.
"Why were you there? Why did you sit there and pretend that you didn't know me? Why?"
"Do we have to do this now?" he asked breathlessly, and moved closer, so close that I felt every hard part of him and he felt good. He began kissing down my neck, across my throat, up to the soft flesh of my ear. He whispered some things that he wanted to do to me.
My knees buckled, my toes curled. I let out a throaty whimper and then pushed him away.
"I don't even know you. I don't know your name. I don't know if you have brothers or sisters, or where you were born." I did slap him this time—in the chest, because he was too cute to slap in the face. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer; so close that his lips touched mine when he smiled.
"Can we play twenty questions later? I've waited a long time for you, Charlie Ford."
Well hell, if that's not a good line—I don't know what is. I kissed him this time and wrapped my arms around his neck to bring him even closer. I kissed him with passion and tenderness, ran my fingers up and down his neck, into his stubby hair, around his ears, and finally cradled his face in the palms of my hands before coming up for air and then starting all over again. I moaned and shifted against his body before breaking from the kiss again. I brushed his lips with mine and stared into his dark sultry e
yes.
"No." I pushed him away playfully and ran from his grasp. I moved to the other side of the bed. "We do this now." Looking over at the bedside table, I let out a giggle. That stack of Belgium chocolate bars wasn't there when I left for dinner. My laughter prodded him to move closer to the bed.
I reached up and held the button of my red sundress between my fingers, teasing him into telling me the truth.
"What's your name?" I asked sternly, and tried to keep the smile from spreading across my flushed cheeks. "Real name this time."
This action on my part induced a salacious grin to tug at his lips and then he popped the top button on his denim shorts. "Jack."
"Jack what?" I asked.
He smiled and took two more steps towards the bed.
"Jack Edward Sullivan."
I undid another button and let the first strap hang over my chest, exposing the top half of one bare breast. I could see the change in his eyes. He'd seen my breasts before, but not quite like this. I watched his eyes narrow, his brows crease together and his chest rise and fall quicker than normal.
I had him right where I wanted him.
"Where were you born?" I held on tight to the button on the other side, rolling my fingers along the button before slipping it half way through its loop.
He licked his lips. "San Diego."
I let the other strap fall, but my breasts held the dress in place.
I looked down, then back into his eyes, and smiled.
He smiled.
"Here's my driver's license." He grabbed for his wallet and tossed it onto the bed.
I opened it, found his driver's license that had the name Jack Sullivan on it. The address read Baltimore, Maryland. His age was thirty-six. That surprised me, I figured him for about thirty-three. Height: six feet, weight: one hundred and eighty five pounds. I flipped through the credit cards. They all read Jack E. Sullivan, too.