Page 35 of No Kind of Hero
He grinned, slow and sure, because that was how he felt. “Nah.”
She laughed. “You know—and here’s another point that’s been bothering me, so pay attention—people have sex with babies sleeping in the same house. Otherwise, nobody’d ever have more than one. The average American family still has two-point-four children.”
“Which you know.”
“Stable for decades,” she informed him. “So tell me why, when I throw my body at you—well, awkwardly present my body to you—you put me off for threedays?You want to know where that woman today came from? She came from somebody who needed itbadand wasn’t going to get it until tomorrow night. Which was way too long. So why?”
“Uh . . . what?” He wasn’t sorry he’d done it today—hell, how could he be?—but he was supposed to have—what? “Because I didn’t want to make you think you were some booty call? Because I wanted to make it special for you?”
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “You’re saying I’m not the kind of woman a man throws down.”
“That’s how you read that? I’d say I threw you down. What else would you call it?”
“I know you did. Eventually. I just wanted you to do it sooner.”
He had to laugh. No choice. He kissed her again, and then he moved his hand all the way down her body, over her hip and thigh and back up again. “I hope I got it done now. I could get all huffy here and say I’m not your repairman fantasy, except seems I’m willing to be whatever you want. If you want to be thrown down some more?” Another lazy graze of his hand over her responsive body. “I’ll see what I can do. For now, though . . .” He gave her a little slap on the ass, because he wanted to and because he could. “I need a sandwich, because you about wore me out. And then I need to get back to work so I can take off on time tomorrow and take you out, and after that . . .” He sighed. “That bath with the candles sounded good. I think I might need a long, slow date with you next time. See what I can make you say if I drag it out long enough.”
She rolled over, sat up, tossed her hair back, and didn’t even pretend to be shy. Rumpled hair in every shade of gold there was, pale, silken skin with a little beard burn messing it up here and there, long legs, and big blue eyes. Looking like a million bucks, and like a woman who’d been loved hard by a man who knew how. “You just want to hear me beg some more.”
He lay on his back like a satisfied man and smiled at her, nice and slow. “Well, yeah, baby. I do.”
Beth didn’t go straight back to Dakota’s when she left Evan outside the theater, even though therewasplenty there for a housesitter to do. Dakota had obviously been telling the truth. She reallydidn’tdo anything when she was making her glass. The kitchen garbage had been emptied, and the house didn’t stink. That was about as much as you could say. This morning, Beth had unpacked her limited wardrobe into Dakota’s half-empty closet and drawers, thrown the sheets and towels in the laundry, done some grocery shopping . . . and then she might have gotten a little sidetracked by checking out Dakota’s remaining wardrobe. After that, she might have gotten alotsidetracked by going to see Evan with mischief in mind.
It had worked, too. Who would’ve thought that doing something that crazy would have worked . . . well, like crazy? She might even have to find something else she could do. Pushing Evan’s buttons, watching him lose control? Oh, yeah. She had alotof ideas.
Anyway. Back to the plan. It wasn’t that she didn’t have things to do now. It was more that there was something else she had to do first. She drove the familiar road around the lake and down the drive, but she didn’t follow it around to the cottage. Instead, she went back into her parents’ house, and this time, she didn’t sneak in.
The moment she walked through the door, Henry came rushing out to greet her, skidding to a stop and plopping down on his haunches at the last moment and looking up at her, his pink tongue hanging out of his mouth as if to say,See? I’m a good dog. Pet me.She was still giving him scratches down near his tail, his very favorite spot, and he was responding with total tail-thumping bliss, when her mother came out of the kitchen.
“Thereyou are,” Michelle said. “I just went over and left you some groceries. I also wanted to invite you to the hairdresser’s with me tomorrow. Arlene told me she had a spot, so I snagged it for you while I had the chance. I left you a voicemail, too. Really, how long does it take to respond to a message, especially when you’re not doing anything else? It’s not very considerate, is it? Arlene’s trying to run a business.”
“Well,” Beth said, “considering that I didn’t ask for the appointment, I’m not sure I’m actually responsible for that one. Although I am getting my hair cut tomorrow.” She knew she was lobbing it out there like a grenade. It was all she could do not to duck. “At the new Aveda salon downtown. I asked around, and people say they’re the best. Really up on it.”
“You don’t need ‘up on it,’" her mother said. “You have beautiful hair that looks just fine. A classic cut is always best. You need a trim and a deep condition, that’s all. And, darling.” She took a glance at Beth’s hands, then looked away as if the sight pained her.“Pleaseget a manicure. I don’t know how many times I’ve asked you, and I certainly don’t know what you’re thinking with that color. It’s better than that horrible gray, but that isnottasteful. And I know you’ll say I’m too interfering, but I’m going to say something else. I know you’re relaxing, but those shorts—no. You have some perfectly appropriate shorts. I’ve seen them. Or a pretty skirt. You can never go wrong with a skirt or sundress.”
Beth may have gotten a little distracted at that. Sheneededthat sundress. That one that unbuttoned. She was still thinking about it when her mother added, apparently having decided to go nuclear, “Your bra straps are showing, too, and I don’t carewhatthe magazines say, showing your underwear has never been anything but trashy. If this is how you dress in Portland, I don’t know what to say. I really don’t. None of that sends the right message. Certainly not to a man.”
Beth had continued to scratch Henry all through the catalog of her sins. Now, she stood up. “Depends what message you want to send, don’t you think? And to whom.”
Her mother, who’d turned to straighten the flowers on the hall table like a woman who’d laid down the law and was moving on, turned around. “What?”
“I came by to grab some cleaning stuff to do the guesthouse,” Beth said.Adult. Not eighteen. And there is zero need to respond to any of the rest of it. You don’t need to engage.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” her mother said. “Chantal can do it when she comes.”
“I’d rather do it myself, though. I’ve really appreciated being able to use the place these past couple weeks, but it’s time to move on. Call it the next stage. I moved my things to a friend’s house today. I’m going to be housesitting for the rest of my time here, but I’d like to clean the guesthouse before I go.”
All right, that last part was a tiny bit weaselly.Put on those big girl panties, sister.“I’m housesitting for Dakota Savage, in fact,” she said. “Actually, for her dad. Russell.”
Her mother’s mouth opened for a moment, then she snapped it shut and said, every word coming out as carefully shaped as cut glass, “Dakota’s obviously . . . changed her circumstances lately, and I’m sure everybody’s very happy for her that she’s been able to rise above her past. And her . . . stepfather. But that doesn’t mean you rush to become her best friend. Being civil is fine. A lady can always be civil. But going out with her to a bar, and now staying in her house? Do you really imagine she’s going to be in those circumstances for long? Then what? You choose your level, darling, so you’d better make sure it’s someplace you’ll be happy to stay.”
Beth was tired of smoothing things over. Tired of being nice. “What past?” she asked. “Exactly what?”
“This is a small community,” her mother said. “There’s no need to repeat gossip, but reputation matters.”
“You’re right.” Henry was pressed up against Beth’s bare legs now, his warmth comforting her. She saw the relaxation in her mother’s expression before she went on and wrecked it. “And that’s why I’m going to trust what I’ve seen instead of what I’ve heard, because that’s what I know for sure. I’ve liked Dakota since I first met her. She might not have had money or reputation or whatever people’s problem is, but she’s . . . all sorts of things. Straightforward, for one. Incredibly talented. Andkind,which I’ve decided is about the most important thing a person can be. Not sticky-sweet, because that means a big fat zero. It’s not what somebodysaysabout what kind of person they are. Look at my boss, for instance. He couldn’t be less cuddly. But look at what he did. Told me to take the time. Of course, he’s trying to take it back now, but he did it.”
She was on a roll, and when her mother tried to speak, Beth talked straight over her. “And as for Dakota—everybody I’ve ever heard laughing about her? I have no idea what happened in the past, and I don’t care. I know what I know, and I’ve known those girls since kindergarten. They aren’t people I’ve ever cared about, and I care less now. Dakota’s done me a couple favors, and now we’re doing each other one. And before you get all excited about that,” she went on, throwing the last piece of restraint to the wind, “I’ve got something even better for you. I’m going out with Evan O’Donnell tomorrow night, and after that, I’ll bet I’ll go out with him again. Somebody will probably see us and tell you, so I may as well tell you first. I was holding his hand on Main Street today, so they might even tell you before that.”
