Page 25 of Romance and Peppermint Lattes
His mouth left hers and blazed a fiery trail of kisses across her sensitized skin. His lips brushed her throat, under her chin to the vulnerable hollow. Only minutes earlier, moving her neck without pain had been impossible; now she did so freely, turning it, arching, asking—no, demanding—that he kiss her again the way he had that night at the waterfront.
Nolan complied, and he seemed to do it willingly, surrendering the battle. He groaned anew and the sound came from deep in his throat. His fingers tangled in the thick strands of her hair as his mouth rushed back to hers.
Maryanne was experiencing a renewal of her own. She felt as if she had lain dormant and was bursting to life, like a flower struggling out of winter snows into the light and warmth of spring.
All too soon, Nolan pulled away from her. His eyes met and held hers. She knew her eyes were filled with questions, but his gave her no answers.
He got abruptly to his feet.
“Nolan,” she said, shocked that he would leave her like this.
He looked back at her and she saw it then. The regret. A regret tinged with compassion. “You’re so exhausted you can barely sit up. Go to bed and we’ll both forget this ever happened. Understand?”
Too stunned to reply, she nodded. Maybe Nolan could forget it, but she knew she wouldn’t.
“Lock the door after me. And next time don’t be so eager to find out who’s knocking. There isn’t any doorman here.”
Once more she nodded. She got up and followed him to the door, holding it open.
“Damn it, Annie, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like that,” he accused, then slowly shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. He rubbed his face and sighed, then pressed his knuckle under her chin. “The two of us are starting over first thing tomorrow. There won’t be any more of this.” But even as he was speaking, he was leaning forward to gently brush her mouth with his.
***
It was the sound of Nolan pounding furiously away on his electric typewriter—a heavy, outdated office model—that woke Maryanne the next morning. She yawned loudly, stretching her arms high above her head, arching her back. Her first night in her new apartment, and she’d slept like a rock. The sofa, which opened into a queen-size sleeper, was lumpy and soft, nearly swallowing her up, but she’d been too exhausted to care.
Nolan’s fierce typing continued most of the day. Maryanne hadn’t expected to see him, so she wasn’t disappointed when she didn’t. He seemed determined to avoid her and managed it successfully for most of the week.
Since she’d promised not to make a nuisance of herself, Maryanne kept out of his way, too. She started work at thecleaning company and wrote three articles in five days, often staying up late into the night.
The work for Rent-A-Maid was backbreaking and arduous. She spent three afternoons a week picking up after professional men who were nothing less than slobs. Maryanne had to resist the urge to write them each a note demanding that they put their dirty dishes in the sink and their soiled clothes in the laundry basket.
Rent-A-Maid had made housekeeping sound glamorous. It wasn’t. In fact, it was the hardest, most physically exhausting job she’d ever undertaken.
By the end of the week, her nails were broken and chipped and her hands were red and chapped.
It was by chance rather than design that Maryanne bumped into Nolan late Friday afternoon. She was carrying a bag of groceries up the stairs when he bounded past her, taking the steps two at a time.
“Annie.” He paused on the landing, waiting for her to catch up. “How’s it going?”
Maryanne didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t very well inform him that the highlight of her week was scraping a crusty patch off the bottom of an oven at one of the apartments she cleaned. She’d had such lofty expectations, such dreams. Nor could she casually announce that the stockbroker she cleaned for had spilled wine on his carpet and she’d spent an hour trying to get the stain out and broken two nails in the process.
“Fine,” she lied. “Everything’s just wonderful.”
“Here, let me take that for you.”
“Thanks.” She handed him the single bag, her week’s allotment of groceries. Unfortunately it was all she could afford. Everything had seemed so exciting when she started out; herplans had been so promising. The reality was proving to be something else again.
“Well, how do you like cleaning?”
“It’s great, really great.” It was shocking how easily the lie came. “I’m finding it... a challenge.”
Nolan smiled absently. “I’m glad to hear it. Have you got your first paycheck yet?”
“I cashed it this afternoon.” She used to spend more each week at the dry cleaners than she’d received in her first paycheck from Rent-A-Maid. The entire amount had gone for food and transportation, and there were only a few dollars left. Her budget was tight, but she’d make it. She’d have to.
