A Forever Kind of Love (Kimani Romance) (10 page)

“Unbelievable,” Mya said. They all turned to her. “That you would just leave your office unlocked, even for a minute,” she elaborated.

“One of the advantages of small-town life,” Corey teased.

Carmen hung a Be Right Back sign on a peg on the wall above her desk and took them on a tour of the building. They looked around Matthew’s office, with its view of the wooden waterwheel in Heritage Park, then in the conference room and two smaller, unoccupied offices.

“The back room is mainly storage. Nothing confidential—those are locked away upstairs. Mr. Gauthier—Leroy—just hated to throw anything away,” Carmen said as she led them into a cavernous room packed with neatly stacked banker boxes.

“Does Matthew realize the historical society may have to move all of these out of the way while they inspect the building?” Corey asked.

She waved him off. “Matthew won’t care. He’s so much more laid-back than his dad.”

“Well, I don’t want to disrupt all of this,” Mya said.

“Just give me a heads-up when you hear back from the folks who will be inspecting,” Carmen said.

Mya and Corey left the law practice and headed west on Main.

“What happened to Armant’s Antiques Shop?” Mya asked, pointing to the only abandoned building on Main Street.

“It was closed before I moved back. From what I heard, after Mr. and Mrs. Armant both died, their son Elvin had a big garage sale where he sold everything for a dollar each.”

“Yeah, from what I remember of Elvin, I can’t really see him selling antiques,” Mya said. “It’s sad, though. I used to love looking around their shop. There was this gorgeous necklace.”

“The one with the blue-and-green stones,” Corey said.

She turned to him, her eyes widened in amazement. “You remember that sapphire-and-emerald necklace?”

“How many times did you drag me in there to look at it?” he asked.

A sheepish grin curled up the edges of her lips. It took everything within him not to lean over and kiss that smile. “Probably dozens,” she said. “It was just so beautiful. Like something that would belong to the queen of England. God, I hope Elvin did not sell that necklace for a dollar. I would hunt him down and kill him.”

“I’m sure he got top dollar for it,” Corey laughed.

They reached the vine-covered arch that marked the entrance to Heritage Park. The square divided Main Street’s east and west sections. Back when he was growing up, this park was where most families spent their Saturday afternoons. The smell of charcoal saturated the air, and sounds of children playing on the swings and merry-go-round could be heard blocks away.

“I always loved this park,” Corey commented.

“I know.” Mya sighed. She stood just inside the entrance and panned the length of the park from east to west. “Does the waterwheel still work?”

“I think it does,” Corey said. “They stopped running it because of utility costs. I don’t think they turn on the lights over the arbor at night either,” he said.

She looked up at him with sad eyes. “But it’s so pretty when it’s all lit up.”

“Maybe after the cleanup day we can convince the parish council to light up the arbor again,” he said.

“Speaking of the cleanup day, you wouldn’t believe how many people have been calling the house to volunteer. I think the turnout is going to be better than anyone expected.”

“You’d better watch it. It almost sounds as if you care what happens to this place.” The hurt in her eyes made Corey regret he’d spoken. “I’m sorry,” he offered.

“You make me sound heartless,” she murmured. She wrapped her arms around her upper body as they walked over to the waterwheel. “I never said I didn’t care about Gauthier. I just...wanted out.”

He leaned a hip against the wooden railing of the log fence surrounding the waterwheel.

“Why?” Corey asked. “I never understood that about you. You hated your mother because she hightailed it out of Gauthier, yet you did the same thing as soon as you could.”

“It’s not the same,” Mya argued.

“No, you didn’t leave a baby for someone else to raise,” Corey said, “but you still left. Why?”

She was silent for a long time. So long that Corey wasn’t sure she’d answer. Finally, she looked up at him and said, “I didn’t want to get trapped.” She shook her head. “I was just so afraid of getting stuck here and never getting the chance to experience life.”

She turned and leaned against the railing, gripping the thick wooden beam. “I know there are dozens of things to love about living in a small town like Gauthier, but there is just so much out there, Corey. There are people who have spent their entire lives here without ever going anywhere else. That is insane.”

“But it doesn’t have to be one or the other,” Corey said. He pointed back toward the law office. “Go in there and ask Carmen about the trip she and Scotty just took to New Zealand. Ask your grandmother about the cruise some of the ladies from her church are taking to the Bahamas.” The swift flash of surprise on her face spoke volumes. “There’s not an invisible wall keeping people trapped in Gauthier, Mya. You don’t have to completely shut yourself off from this place.” Corey paused, capturing her chin between his fingers and lifting her head as he added, “Or the people here who care about you.”

She stared into his eyes, her grip on the beam so tight he knew it would leave indentations in her skin.

His gaze locked on her lips. He lowered his head and took her mouth in a slow-moving kiss. To his disappointment, she didn’t let this one go on for nearly as long as their kiss in the library. Mya brought a hand to his jaw and moved his face away from hers.

“You’ve got to stop doing that,” she said.

“But it’s so much fun,” Corey countered.

The stern look she shot his way was hampered by the laughter crinkling the corners of her eyes.

Her gaze roamed around the park again. “So, you think your baseball team can handle sprucing this place up? We’re going to need to paint those park benches and prune a lot of the shrubbery.”

“I think they can handle it,” he said. “They’re all going to be here early Saturday morning, with their gloves, shovels and trash bags.”

“And their coach?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Their coach will be leading the way.”

“Hmm... I think their coach deserves a special reward for all his hard work. I may have to sweet-talk Aunt Mo into making her special oatmeal-raisin cookies you used to love so much.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “How about you let their coach take you to dinner?” Corey’s chest constricted as he waited for her answer. “Come on, Mya,” he urged when he saw the indecision in her eyes. He took her fingers and brought them to his lips, pressing one single, gentle kiss to her soft skin. “Let me take you to dinner.”

An interminable stretch of time passed before she finally nodded.

“I think I’d like that.”

Chapter 8

M
ya slathered sunscreen on her arms, legs and face, then pulled her grandfather’s tattered New Orleans Saints sun visor low on her forehead.

“Aunt Mo, are you almost done?” she called.

“In a minute,” Maureen hollered.

Mya left the hall bathroom and headed for the front of the house. Her grandmother was waiting at the door, a straw hat with a wide brim atop her head.

“Well, it looks as if you’re ready.” Mya tugged on the green ribbon dangling from the hat.

“I sure am.” Her grandmother hefted her purse over her shoulder. “Even though I’m only allowed to hand out bottles of water.”

“With the way that sun is shining, you’ll be the most popular person on Main Street.” Mya laughed.

“Okay, let’s get to it,” Maureen said as she entered the room wearing a paint-stained chambray shirt and a pair of jean cutoffs Mya was sure were older than she was.

They piled into the car and headed toward downtown Gauthier. As they edged closer to Main Street, Mya looked at the cars that lined both sides of Pecan Drive.

“Do you think all of these are volunteers?” she asked, but neither her grandmother nor Aunt Mo needed to answer. The proof revealed itself as soon as they crossed over Shoal Creek Lane. Volunteers cluttered the sidewalks, with rakes and shovels and buckets in hand.

“Oh, my God,” Grandma breathed from the passenger seat.

“Don’t cry,” Mya told her, even though her throat instantly tightened at the show of support from the residents of Gauthier. She was suddenly overcome with pride. It felt strange to have such strong feelings for a place she’d written off for so many years, but how could she not feel a kinship with this town and its people?

“This is amazing,” Mya said on an awe-filled breath.

She drove the full length of Main Street. The slanted parking spots in front of the buildings had been cordoned off by yellow caution tape, so she dropped her grandmother and Aunt Mo in front of Claudette’s Beauty Parlor and drove down to Clark Street to park. She grabbed the pair of gloves she’d taken from her grandfather’s gardening shed, along with a red-and-blue paisley scarf that she tucked into her back pocket.

Mya spotted Corey just outside of the Gauthier Pharmacy and Feed Store. He held a clipboard in one hand and a bullhorn in the other and looked every bit the high school coach. He called out a string of last names and gave those players instructions to wash the windows of Mike’s Barbershop. The next set was ordered to add a fresh coat of paint to the porch railing surrounding Gauthier Savings and Loan, and yet another group of players was assigned to sand the outdoor deck of Emile’s Restaurant.

Mya sidled up to Corey and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned with the bullhorn to his mouth, primed to bellow out more instructions. He dropped it and smiled at her.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning to you. I see you already have things running like a well-oiled machine. How long have you been out here?”

“Since about six. I know we told volunteers to be here at eight, but I wanted to make sure everything was in place so people could get to work as soon as they arrived. I had Manny rope off the entire street because a buddy of mine has an old paint striper and agreed to come over and restripe the parking spots.” He pointed across the street. “The Ladies’ Auxiliary has already started pruning the shrubs in Heritage Park, and the football booster club is working on the old antiques store.”

Mya surveyed the bevy of activity surrounding her. “I’m just surprised at how many people are willing to give up their Saturday morning to help out.”

“I’m not,” Corey said. “People love this town.”

“Well, I’m proud of them all the same.”

“You should be proud that you played such a key role in getting this done.”

She looked over at him and smiled, her breath hitching a little at how breathtakingly gorgeous he was in his shades.

Corey glanced down at his clipboard, then back up at her. “So, are you ready to get to work? According to my list you’re on sidewalk duty.”

She barked out a laugh. “Put me to work, Coach.”

Two hours later, Mya was ready to crawl under the wooden deck in front of Emile’s Restaurant and take a nap. She lived a pretty active lifestyle, but her body wasn’t used to continuous manual labor. Accompanied by several members of the Gauthier Fighting Lions cheerleading squad and drill team, she had pulled all the weeds popping out of the brick sidewalk that lined either side of Main Street. Her back ached from the constant crouching.

Mya walked over to the table where her grandmother sat, along with Clementine Washington. They were shaded by a green-and-white tent with
Gauthier Fighting Lions
printed on all four sides.

“Looks like you can use something cool to drink,” her grandmother said. “You want water or punch?” She pointed to the orange coolers that were commonly seen hoisted over the heads of winning football coaches just before the game clock ticked down to zero.

“Water is fine,” Mya answered, and was handed a blessedly cold bottle of water from a huge ice chest.

“Main Street is looking better already,” her grandmother said. “I’ll bet we’ll have this place cleaned up by the end of the day.”

Even though Main Street was well preserved, before this morning Mya was sure they were going to need more than just one day to spruce up this area. But with the more than one hundred volunteers working tirelessly, the idea of them being done by the end of the day didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.

Phylicia was moving methodically from parking spot to parking spot, pressure-washing oil and other automotive fluid that had leaked from cars and stained the asphalt. Aunt Mo led the group of volunteers who were adding a glossy coat of black paint to the wrought-iron lampposts that lined the street.

Her grandmother was right; this place was already looking better, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. Mya could not suppress the current of prideful satisfaction that rippled through her. This was happening because of
her
.

“You slacking off?”

Mya jumped and turned, finding Corey standing just a foot behind her. A swath of sweat stained the front of his green T-shirt and clung to his viciously ripped chest and stomach. Mya took a long pull on her water bottle, but it didn’t cool off her heated body one bit.

“C’mere.” Corey gestured with his head and tugged at her sleeve.

“What?” Mya staggered behind him.

“I’ve got something to show you.”

They walked along the side of the pharmacy and Mya knew where they were going before they reached the rear of the building.

The storage shed.

It was a small wooden structure, no more than six-by-eight feet, and used to store cleaning equipment and oversize boxes. There was just enough room for two horny teenagers to get into all kinds of trouble. Mya’s skin tingled at the memories.

“Remember this?” Corey asked, retrieving a key from his pocket.

“Where did you get that key?”

“Told Shelly I needed to borrow a couple of buckets,” he said. He opened the door to the darkened shed, and Mya’s heart skipped several beats.

“All this sun must have gone to your head, Corey Anderson. You’re crazy if you think I’m going in there with you.”

He leaned close and buried his face against her neck, inhaling deep. “Come on, Peaches. You know you want to.”

A double fudge brownie sundae with extra fudge was easier to resist than that invitation, but then the sundae was no good for her either. Mya took a step back, but Corey grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the shed. He shut the door, leaving them in the dark except for the light streaming in through the wooden slats of the walls.

He pushed aside an empty box, picked her up by the waist and planted her on the shelf that lined the shed’s right wall. Mya’s legs opened automatically to let Corey in, the height of the shelf bringing their bodies into perfect alignment. It was just as she remembered. Fifteen years ago, they wouldn’t have even bothered to get undressed. Corey would have just moved her panties to the side and plunged inside of her in a matter of seconds.

“God, I used to live for this,” Corey murmured against her neck. He ran his hands up and down her back then moved to her hips, encasing her thighs in his palms. “I would count down the minutes until three o’clock, when Doc Landry would leave to go check on that parrot. I knew as soon as his car pulled out of the alleyway that we had exactly twenty minutes.”

“After that stupid bird died, I had to come up with all kinds of excuses to leave the store.” Mya laughed.

“You got pretty good at it,” Corey mused.

“I still can’t believe he never realized what we were up to. I used to be so scared we’d get caught.”

“I was way too good to ever get caught.” He rubbed his nose along the edge of her jaw, his lips grazing her neck and collarbone with soft kisses.

“Corey, stop it,” Mya said with the weakest, most pitiful protest she’d ever uttered. “There are over a hundred people out here. We can’t do this right now.”

“Nobody knows we’re in here.”

Bare fingers clutched the small of her back and Mya’s entire being tingled at the sensation of his rough warmth abrading her skin. He pulled her into closer contact with his body, his hands moving down to grip her backside.

She buried her hands underneath his shirt. He was divine; smooth skin draped over solid firmness. Mya clawed her way up his back, remembering the way the ropy muscles in his shoulders would undulate against her hands as he pumped in and out of her body with swift, sure strokes. He could light her on fire in mere seconds and bring her to earth-shattering orgasm moments later. She’d slept with a total of four men in her thirty-two years, and not one of them had ever come close to satisfying her the way Corey had.

Mya let her head fall back as Corey’s hands traveled from her waist to her stomach, then up and over her satin-and-lace bra. He hooked his fingers just over the edge of the cups and pulled them down. Her nipples hardened in anticipation. When his roughened palms closed over her breasts, a whimper escaped her throat.

Corey groaned against her neck, licking and sucking and biting as his fingers pinched and plucked and rubbed her distended nipples.

“I really want to pull those shorts off of you,” he whispered against her skin, “but I locked my wallet in the glove compartment of my car.” He pulled away from her neck and looked at her. “You don’t happen to have a condom on you, do you?”

“Why would I have a condom?” Mya asked.

“Thought not,” he said with a sigh. “Dammit, Mya. How am I supposed to go back out there like this?”

She looked down and her mouth watered at the sight of the huge erection pulsing just on the other side of his zippered khaki shorts.

“You’re the one who started this,” she said. He still held her naked breasts in his palms, and she wasn’t inclined to move his hands away. Having his rough skin upon her felt like heaven.

Corey lowered his forehead to hers and gently squeezed her breasts. “If I don’t have you soon I think I might die.”

A wry grin eased up the corners of her lips. How many times had she heard that line from him?

“That may have worked back in high school,” Mya said. “But I’m not as naive as I used to be.” She clamped on to his forearms and pulled his hands away, then straightened her bra back into place and smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt.

“I’m not playing around, Mya. This is killing me.”

As she watched him struggle with his unfulfilled lust, all Mya could think about was her own valiant attempt to resist the hunger that had been building within her. It was a losing battle. Her body had been teetering along the edge of desire for the past two weeks, and the ache became harder to fight with every second she was around him.

She was tired of fighting.

She was no longer a love-struck teenager. She knew exactly what she would be getting herself into if she embarked upon a sexual relationship with Corey. It would be in direct opposition to the claim she’d made a long time ago that she was over him. She was setting herself up for frustration, possibly even heartache.

But there was one thing she was certain to get: pleasure. Much,
much
pleasure.

Streaks of filtering sunlight sliced across his chest, highlighting the way his moist shirt clung to his well-defined six-pack. The impulse to strip the shirt from his body and lick her way up and down his torso was so strong that Mya knew she had to break free right now. If they stayed in here much longer, they would both end up naked, sweaty and panting.

But satisfied. So incredibly, remarkably satisfied.

Corey stepped up to her again and captured her mouth in a swift kiss. She bit back a moan and pulled away.

“We need to get back out there,” she said, putting her hands on his chest and gently pushing him.

He let out a low curse as he backed up. His eyes zeroed in on her nipples that puckered against her cotton shirt, and he licked those lips that Mya wished were still exploring her neck.

Corey’s head fell back as he let out another groan. He cupped his straining erection and squeezed himself through the fabric. The picture of sexual frustration.

“Just like high school,” Mya said, unable to keep the laughter from her voice.

“This isn’t funny,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Do you know how hard it will be to work like this for the rest of the day?”

Mya empathized with him, but not enough to help ease his...situation. She scooted off the shelf, brushing against Corey in the tight confines of the storage shed. Her blood heated at the contact, and she knew she needed to get out fast.

She pointed a finger at Corey’s chest. “Remember, we’re supposed to be working. Don’t try luring me away again.”

He slid a knowing gaze her way and smiled with deliberate slyness. “You could have said no.”

Yeah, right.
When had she ever been able to say no to him?

“I mean it, Corey Anderson. You’re not going to tempt me again today.”

A hint of challenge entered his eyes, and Mya knew she’d just landed herself into a heap of trouble.