Wish You Were Here (10 page)

“
Right,” he said. “I just—”

“
Stop
thinking,”
she said. “You’re a good man. I get it. You have a kid. I live in Boston. We hardly know each other.” She made a chattering mouth with her right hand. “Blah blah blah, who gives a crap?”

He took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. I think I just need a minute to think.”

“
No,” she said. “The last thing in the world you need is a minute to think. If you do, you’ll remember that you’re the kind of guy who waits until he’s sure no one’s gonna get hurt and he can marry the women he sleeps with. Well, fuck that. You see how well that kind of stupidity worked for you before.”

She whipped off her shirt, revealing a light green silk camisole. Under it, her nipples were peaked and hard and—

“Touch me,” she said.

He raised his hand, cupping it under her breast.
So soft, so full, so warm. He ran his thumb lightly over the nipple, watched it tighten under the light fabric. She groaned and arched against him.

“
Not thinking is good,” he said. She laughed, then leaned down and kissed him, her body hovering over his, moving against him in all the right places.

“
We’ve both had shit weeks,” she said, her breath hot on his lips. “And we both need this. I’m not gonna get hurt and we’re not gonna get married and so help me God, if you think about anything but being inside of me for the next fifteen minutes, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

She got up, grabbed her purse, pulled a condom out,
and tossed it at him. “Get prepared, Boy Scout. This is not a drill.” She tucked her fingers in the elastic waist of her pajama bottoms and shot him a look. “What are you thinking about?”

He sat up, facing her.
“You.”

She stepped closer, her knees straddling his as she stood before him, and slowly lowered the bottoms, revealing the sharp edge of her naked hip bone.
“And now?”

He reached for her, hooking one finger under the elastic and tugging it down farther, then laying a light kiss below her belly button.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly. “Good man.”

He pulled her underwear and pants to the ground and she daintily stepped out. He grabbed her hips and lifted her until her knees were on the couch next to him, then he kissed her belly, working lower until she made a little squeaking noise that let him know he was on the right track.

Like riding a bike,
he thought, and tasted her some more until she patted him on the shoulder and said, “Put the damn condom on.”

He slid out of his jeans and boxers and put the condom on, and she straddled him again, pressing herself up against him and grinding her hips in a small circle.

“What are you thinking about?” She shifted her weight forward.

“
Oh, God,” he said, stars breaking behind his eyes at her every slight movement.

She cupped her hand around his chin and shook his head
no
.

“
You,” he said.

“
Good man.” She leaned into him and kissed him, her pelvis shifting away from him, making him groan with pure want. There was nothing else in his head, nothing but her, the desire to fill her, to be inside her. He put his hands on her hips, shifting her closer, and she let out a moan as their bodies grazed each other, pressing against each other in all the right places. He slid one hand under her camisole and slowly move his fingers up to her breast, taking it full in his hand. She arched against him as he squeezed and rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“
Oh, God,” she said.

“
No,” he said.

She smiled and looked at him.
“Nate.”

“
Good woman.” He put his other hand on the back of her neck and pulled her to him, tasting her as deeply as he could, drinking her in.

She pulled back and he groaned and reached for her, but she pressed her palm against his chest and pushed him back against the couch, keeping her eyes locked on his as she slid herself over him. For a moment she stayed completely still, taunting him with the anticipation. When he was on the verge of exploding inside her, she started to move, slowly at first, then faster and faster, working him into a frenzy of heat and want. He watched her, his mind wonderfully, blissfully blank as his body screamed for her, into her, until she tightened around him in wild spasms, sending him into hot blackness as he released into her, letting it all go, letting his world reduce down to nothing but how she smelled, how she felt, how rough and spent her voice sounded as she screamed his name.

They held on to each other for a while and then she shifted off him and curled into his arms, a relaxed smile on her lips as she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. Her body shuddered in a mild aftershock and he tightened his hold on her.

She let out a light, happy hum and laid a soft kiss on his neck.

“I’m not going to marry you, so don’t even think about asking,” she murmured.

He laughed and ran his hand over her hair.

“I wasn’t thinking anything,” he said. It was the truth.

“
Good man,” she said, and a moment later, he fell asleep with her in his arms, his mind as blank and happy as it had never been.

***

Malcolm Brody sat on the bed in his rented RV, leaned his back against the thin, faux-wood wall, and took a drag of his cigar. He tasted the smoke in his mouth for a bit and released it, then held the cigar out to take a look.

It wasn
’t Cuban, but those would come. All in good time.

He reached for the glass on the foldout bedside table, filled with the finest Irish whiskey he could afford, which wasn
’t all that fine. But that was all right, for now. He couldn’t drink it anyway; it was against the rules.

There were no rules about sniffing it, though, and he stuck his nose in the glass, inhaling the sharp fumes deeply. He
’d been sober for eight months, and that sobriety had served its purpose. He’d thought clearly, devised a plan, and was going to live like a king for the rest of his life. Once he was there, he could drink all he wanted. Being a drunk wasn’t a problem if you were rich enough to keep the whiskey flowing. In a few days, he would be that rich.

And, now, it was time to get that plan rolling.

He put the glass down, picked up his cell phone, and dialed. It rang twice, and then the man answered. “Richard Daly.”

“
Hello, Richard,” Malcolm said, not bothering with the Irish accent. He wanted to make sure Richard recognized the voice on the line. “How have you been?”

There was a long, tense silence. Malcolm waited; he knew Richard would put it all together. Richard Daly was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. As a matter of fact, if Malcolm
were a betting man, he’d put cash money down that Richard Daly had been expecting this very call.

“
Malcolm,” he said finally. “What do you want?”

Malcolm chuckled.
“The same thing you do, I expect. The only difference is, I have it and you don’t.”

Richard cleared his throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“
Richard, let’s not play games. Your daughter isn’t in the middle of Idaho for no reason. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

There was a short silence,
then Richard said, “My daughter has nothing to do with this. I’m busy. You have five seconds to tell me what you want, Malcolm, and then I’m hanging up.”

“
The same thing my brother wanted,” Malcolm said. “Only lots more of it.” Malcolm picked up the bank records he’d stolen from his brother’s desk drawer two days before his death. “I’m afraid Mick lacked vision. That, or he didn’t know what you’re worth. It’s good for me I don’t have either of those problems, isn’t it, Richard?”

“
How do I even know you have it?”

Malcolm reached for the cheap ceramic plate he
’d picked up at the dollar store specifically for this call and held the phone out as he hurled it to the floor, where it shattered. He put the phone back to his ear.

“
That wasn’t it,” he said. “Good thing, too. Well, good for me.”

Richard was dead silent. Malcolm had known that silence well back in the day, and if he and Richard were in the same room at that moment, he might be concerned that he
’d pushed it too far. As it was, with almost three thousand miles between him and his prey, it made him a little giddy.

“
I’m not paying you a dime until I have proof that you have it, Malcolm.”

“
You’ll get proof,” Malcolm said. “I just thought I’d give you a chance to start liquidating some of your substantial assets.” He took a puff of his cigar. “It’s a bitch being in the Forbes 500, isn’t it, Richard? More money, more problems, isn’t that what they say?”

There was a quiet click in his ear and Malcolm flipped the phone shut. Richard Daly might be smart and successful, but once again, he was making the mistake of underestimating Malcolm. Just like when they were kids.

He really had no idea what he was dealing with.

Malcolm got up from the bed and stepped over the broken plate, then opened the side door and inhaled. Fresh pine. Not bad. Through the trees, he could see the lake, its surface glimmering in the full moonlight. Mick might have lacked vision, but he had a fine piece of land here. He thought for a moment that it might be fun to burn it to the ground, but... no. He had to rein in his sense of drama, at least for now. Once Nikkie had served her purpose and the plate was found, though, he could do whatever he wanted.

He looked forward to that.

Malcolm took one last puff of his crap cigar and dumped it into the cheap glass of whiskey.

It wouldn’t be long now before he’d be enjoying the good stuff.

Nine

Freya’s eyes fluttered open and she raised her head from the warm space where it had been resting.

On Nate
’s shoulder.

She took in a deep breath, trying to get her bearings. Sun was still streaming in from the window, so it couldn
’t be that late. Still, she’d fallen asleep.

In his arms.

After sex.

Not good.

She was half naked, lying practically on top of Nate, who was also half naked. And kinda snoring a little. At some point he had pulled the afghan over them and it had been very comfortable. It would be so easy to just close her eyes and go back to sleep, snuggle her head in the crook of his neck, let the rhythms of his breathing lull her back to—

No.
The problem was, she was wedged between his body and the back of the couch. How the hell was she going to get out?

Good thing I was always an ace at Twister,
she thought as she reached over him, bracing one hand on the edge of the couch, and then leveraging against the back, slowly shifting herself upward.
Okay. This could work.
She lifted herself over him, getting extra stability by placing the toes of her right foot on the edge of the couch by his knees. Okay. Now she was hovering over him, careful to keep her body from touching his and waking him up. She balanced there for a minute, thinking over her next move. She couldn’t put her hand on the floor, because her body would definitely touch his, and then he’d wake up, and she’d have to explain why she was performing silent acrobatics to escape. But her foot would almost definitely make a thunk sound, in which case he’d wake up and she’d have to explain—

“
Hey.”

She looked down to find him smiling up at her.

“Guess we fell asleep, huh?” he said.

“
Yep.”

She hovered there, frozen, and he raised one eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“
I needed to get up,” she said. “Didn’t want to wake you.” She thunked her foot to the ground, then pushed off him in an awkward movement that involved some arm flailing before she got her balance. She snatched the afghan and wrapped it around her shoulders, leaving him exposed, but he was a man. They loved being exposed.

“
Sorry,” she said.

“
Nothing to be sorry about.” He swung his feet over the side of the couch, grabbed his pants and boxers, and padded over to the bathroom. Freya took a second to put her hand to her forehead and curse to herself, then made quick work of slipping back into her clothes. She heard the water in the sink running and then a few seconds later Nate was standing before her, fully dressed and watching her with those eyes that saw everything. Jeez, couldn’t he just leave?

“
What’s the matter?” he asked.

“
Nothing,” she said.

“
You’re freaked out.”

“
Pffft. Am not.”

“
What is it?”

“
Nothing.”

He reached out, put his hand under her chin, and gently angled her face until her eyes met his.

“You’re lying. Out with it.”

“
Okay, fine.” She took his hand from her face, letting his fingers hold on to hers even though it felt weird. “I don’t sleep with people.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Now that I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“
I mean... you know what I mean. I have
sex.
I don’t
sleep.
I’m not a cuddler. I don’t—” She motioned toward the couch with their entwined hands.

Nate laughed.

“Shut up, Captain Cleft Chin.” She pulled her hand from his. “I don’t hold hands, either.”

He watched her for a second
. “Oh. I get it.”

“
Get what?”

“
Actually, this explains a lot.”

“
Explains what?”

“
Nothing. Just, you know, you’re all tough and in charge, but being naked with someone when not in the active pursuit of an orgasm makes you feel like you’re making a promise you can’t keep. I get it.”

“
You do?”

“
Yeah,” he said. “I’m a guy, I get it. But don’t worry about it. It’s been a tough couple of days for both of us and that sex was…” He trailed off, his eyes on the couch, and released a quick breath. “Well, you were there.”

She smiled, her heart rate increasing at the memory.
“Yeah.”

“
So, we were tired and fell asleep. Together. And we cuddled. A little. Accidentally. It happens.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and her legs wobbled. Great; now she had sex legs.

She should have stretched first.

“Hey,” he said, reading her expression. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna worry about it. We’re friends, right?”

“
Barely even that,” Freya said, a little too loudly and a little too quickly, and she caught a slight flash of surprise in Nate’s eyes. She reached out and grabbed his hand. “I mean, yeah. We’re friends. Definitely friends.”

He glanced down at her hand holding his and raised his eyes to hers.
“I thought you didn’t do that.”

She released him, surprised a bit by her own instinct to touch him.
“I don’t.”

“
Right.” He checked his watch. “I’m late. Nikkie’s coming up to the house for dinner with Ruby and Piper.”

“
Oh, wow,” Freya said. “Then you should go. See you.”

“
Yeah.” He started toward the door, then paused and turned back to face her. “The thing is... this is going to be hard on Piper. Before we”—he motioned toward the couch—“had all the great sex, I was going to ask you to come, you know, to be a friend, a neutral party. For Piper. And now I feel a little weird about it, but it really is for her. I’m not trying to make this into something it’s not, I promise you.”

He met her eyes and held them for a moment, and her stomach went all crazy with the butterflies.

Ugh. She had sex legs
and
butterflies? This was not going according to plan.

He cleared his throat.
“You don’t have to go, but I really am asking for Piper.”

She watched him for a moment, and the butterflies went away. This really wasn
’t about her, it was about Piper, and an external focus relieved her awkwardness. “What time?”

His expression brightened.
“Six-thirty?”

She glanced at her watch.
“That gives me an hour to get cleaned up.” She smiled up at him. “I can do that.”

“
Great. Thanks. I’ll see you then.” He gave a tiny wave and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. The second the door was closed, the butterflies started up again.

“
Oh, shut up,” Freya said to her stomach, then headed off to start her bath.

***

Nate had just pulled the roasted asparagus spears out of the oven when he heard the front door open and the sound of heels clicking on the floor. He smiled to himself, thinking,
Freya,
but when he closed the oven door and straightened, he found himself face to face with Nikkie.

“
Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Don’t worry, Nik. No need to knock or anything.”

“
Please don’t look so happy to see me. You know how that kind of thing can go to a girl’s head.”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I should know better than to even ask, but just to be clear, you don’t have any expectations of starting anything up between us again, do you?”

She cringed
visibly at the suggestion, which, while not flattering, was a comfort. “Fuck no, Nate. We should never have gotten married in the first place. I wouldn’t do that again if you paid me.”

Nate relaxed a bit. She seemed to mean it, although he
’d never been that great at telling when Nikkie was lying. He’d found it worked in his favor to just assume everything she said was a lie—the odds were on his side there—but on this one he decided to break with tradition and believe her. His life was complicated enough right now without adding Nikkie into the mix as a romantic combatant.

“
Okay,” he said, then turned back to the stove. He flipped the lamb over in the skillet and checked the time, then turned to find Nikkie going through the cupboards. “What are you doing?”

She pulled out one of the dinner plates and turned it over in her hand.
“These are blue, right. Not purple?”

“
They’re blue,” Nate said. “Something wrong?”

“
No,” she said, snorting out an odd laugh, and then put the plate back. “I was going to set the table, and you know what they say. Always serve pork on purple plates.”

“
We’re having lamb, and who says that?”

She shut the cupboard and looked around.
“Are those the only plates you have?”

“
Yes,” a firm voice came from behind them, and Nate turned to see Ruby standing there, watching Nikkie with a look of severe distrust. A well-earned look, Nate thought, and didn’t bother trying to protect Nikkie from Ruby. He ducked into the fridge to get his chicken stock for the sauce, keeping an eye on the two of them in case he needed to jump in and referee.

“
You’re a guest,” Ruby said, taking the plate from Nikkie. “Sit.”

“
I just wanted to help,” Nikkie said, her voice as steely as Ruby’s smile.

“
Thanks so much for the offer,” Ruby said, “but if you touch anything else in my kitchen, you might just lose a hand.”

“
This isn’t your kitchen,” Nikkie said. “It’s not your house. It’s Nate’s. He inherited everything.”

Nate stopped what he was doing to look at Nikkie.
“How do you know that?”

“
It said in Mick’s obituary,” she said. “It said he was unmarried, that he had one son and one granddaughter surviving. She’s not even your real stepmother. She’s just Mick’s tired old afternoon delight.”

“
Let me tell you something, you little—” Ruby started, her face so fierce that Nate knew he’d have to step in now or the mother of his child would be nothing more than a grease spot on the carpet.

“
All right, that’s enough,” Nate said, stepping between them. “Nikkie, Ruby’s family, and the next time you insult her, she’ll take your head off and stick it on a pike outside, and I won’t stop her. You get one warning. This is her house as much as mine, and you’ll respect everyone in it, or you’ll go. We clear?”

Nikkie
’s lips pursed, but she nodded. “Where’s Piper?”

“
She’s in her room,” Ruby said, “and she’ll come down when she’s good and ready. You leave her alone.”

Nikkie raised her hands in a gesture of aggravated peace.
“All right. Fine. May I use your bathroom?”

“
What for?” Ruby asked.

“
I’m gonna knit a tea cozy.” Nikkie laid cold eyes on Ruby. “What do you think I need to use the bathroom for? I gotta pee.”

Nate motioned out toward the living room.
“Go down the hallway, second door on your right.”

Nikkie smoothed her hands over her skirt, nodded, and turned on her heel.

“I’ve counted all the fancy soaps!” Ruby called after her. Nate watched her for a moment. Ruby had a lot of rough edges, but she loved the hell out of Piper, and Nate had never realized until that moment what that had meant to him all these months.

Ruby looked up at him, eyebrows
raising. “What?”

Nate shook his head.
“Nothing.” He walked back to the oven and checked on the lamb. Ruby followed, her voice low but insistent.

“
She can’t be trusted,” Ruby said, eyeing the plate in her hand. “She’s up to something.”

“
Yeah, probably,” Nate said. “We’ll keep an eye on her, but she’s Piper’s mother, so we need to be civil. For Piper.” Ruby huffed and muttered an unflattering suggestion under her breath. Nate patted her on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re on my side, I’ll tell you that.”

The doorbell rang.
Freya.

Nate handed Ruby a wooden spoon.
“Can you add the stock and the wine and reduce that sauce for me?”

Ruby nodded and took the spoon, then said,
“Can’t ever just make a simple gravy, can you?”

“
No,” he said, then ducked out of the kitchen and through the living room. When he opened the front door, Freya was fresh and beautiful in a navy blue pantsuit that made her body look almost as tantalizing in clothes as it did when it was naked. He smiled at her, and she held out the bag of Idaho Snowman Poop to him.