Authors: Susan Fox
Body Heat (22 page)
“Guys like us, we oughta be able to ride a bike if we want. If you weren’t living here, she’d have nothing to say about it.”
“But I am. And she does. Don’t you agree?”
Not so much. But on the other hand, he knew this was important to Maura. Tonight, she’d shown trust in him. He couldn’t go behind her back and take Fred out on the Harley. “Shit. Guess it’s off then. That blows.” Then he said, “Sorry, shouldn’t be using language like that.”
But the older man didn’t look offended. Instead, humor lit his blue eyes. “You see things too black and white. Ever heard of compromise?”
Jesse shook his head. “When folks talk about compromise, what they mean is you’re going to lose and they’re going to win.”
Fred reached up and patted Jesse’s shoulder, almost as if he were still a boy. “You’re a cynical fellow, and maybe you have reason to be. As for me, I don’t believe in condemning someone until I’ve given them a chance.”
“No, sure. But Maura—Ms. Mahoney—had a chance and said no.”
“I’ll talk to her again. If she agrees, you’ll take me out?”
“Yeah, but she won’t.”
Fred Dykstra shook his head. “Just get on with your mowing, Jesse.”
Jesse shrugged and obeyed.
In another twenty or so minutes he turned off the engine again, seeing Fred and Maura walking together across the grass. Below her tailored white shirt, she wore slim-fitting beige pants, and those legs of hers went on forever. All the way up to the place where her thighs joined.
“Here’s the deal,” Fred said.
Jesse, who had forgotten he was there, gaped at him.
“I wanted to get the two of you together,” Fred said.
Oh, yeah! That was what he wanted, too. But wait, Fred couldn’t mean
that
!
that
!
“To make sure everyone’s on the same page about this,” Fred said.
Oh. The bike ride thing. Jesse glanced at Maura, who seemed to be battling a grin. He frowned. What had Fred said to her?
The old man went on. “Cherry Lane has legal obligations to the residents and has to be concerned about potential lawsuits. They have liability insurance, of course, but they don’t need a lawsuit or any unfavorable publicity. Therefore, Maura will contact the lawyer tomorrow and ask him to draft a waiver that will cover bike rides. I’ll sign it. Once it’s signed, we can go riding.”
“Sounds like a hell of a lot of fuss over a simple ride,” Jesse grumbled.
Fred raised his eyebrows. “To me, it sounds like a fair compromise that takes everyone’s interests—and responsibilities—into account. Not to mention, it protects you, young fellow, from being sued for any damage that might result from a ride. Not only would Cherry Lane be liable, but you could be personally liable. You wouldn’t want me suing you, and making you sell that bike to pay damages, now would you?”
Jesse gave a token roll of his eyes, knowing Fred would never do that. All the same, this did sound like a reasonable solution. He hadn’t even realized he might be liable if something went wrong. Still, there was one flaw to the plan. “Lawyer’ll take forever drafting the damned thing.”
“I’ll ask him to make it a priority.” Maura spoke for the first time. “I know how much Fred enjoyed the ride on Sunday.”
Well, how about that? Jesse grinned at her. “Cool.”
She smiled back, and his heart began to thud.
Her mouth straightened like she’d gone serious again, but her eyes twinkled and squinted up at the edges. “Jesse, do you know what Fred did before he retired?” She was trying to keep her voice level, but he could tell she had a surprise for him.
He shook his head.
She produced her surprise with a flourish, and another grin. “Hostage negotiator.”
“No shit. I mean, uh, wow.” That was a damned serious job. He realized why Maura was laughing and gave a chuckle. “Hey, Fred, I guess Ms. Mahoney and I were pretty easy, after some of the guys you’ve dealt with.”
“Feels good to exercise old muscles.”
“Stick around us, we’ll give you a workout.” He said it unthinkingly, then wondered if Maura’d think he was being disrespectful.
But no, she was laughing, her cheeks glowing in the evening light.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Dusk, Maura with laughing eyes, that scent of gardenias. Sometimes life was damned fine.
She left, of course, but he got a lot of pleasure out of unashamedly ogling her ass as she and Fred walked back across the courtyard. When she wore a skirt, he got to admire her shapely legs, but pants showed off her butt. She did have a truly fine one, curvy and firm. Not one of those little ones that looked like a boy’s, but not one of those big pear-shaped booties, either. On a scale of one to ten, this ass was a twenty.
This ass didn’t belong to an accountant or a general manager. It definitely belonged in a lingerie catalog.
She and Fred stepped inside and the door closed.
Jesse gripped the handles of the lawnmower, thinking that he should start it up again. Maura was out of sight now, walking down the hall to her office.
The scent of gardenia lingered in the evening air, and the memory of that sweet, curvy ass lingered in his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment . . .
Imagined her walking into her office . . .
Imagined following her . . .
Maura stood with her back to him as she searched for something in a filing cabinet. When he reached out and put one hand on either side of her waist, she gave a little gasp. She held absolutely still and didn’t look over her shoulder. “Jesse,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.
“Maura.” He bent down to drop a kiss on the side of her neck, above the collar of that white shirt, and she shivered.
Then he leaned forward, pressing his body against hers. Resting his cheek against the top of her head, he closed his eyes, the better to savor the full contact. Her fine-boned shoulders nestled just under his own broader ones; his chest arched around her back.
His pelvis pressed against her curvy ass, and he was growing harder by the moment.
She squirmed backward against his hard-on. He gripped her waist tighter, forcing her to hold still, and he found her exact center, the split between those two sassy curves showcased by her clingy pants. He thrust hard, lodging himself firmly against her, and she gasped his name.
Then he reached around her with one hand, tracing the line of her fly down across her stomach and past. He cupped her pussy with his palm, and she moaned and began to squirm again. He pressed harder against her ass while his fingers began to stroke her through the thin fabric of her pants.
“Oh, Jesse,” she moaned, then—
“Jesse? Jesse?”
What? No, she wasn’t moaning his name, she was calling across the garden from her office window, which was behind him. And he was standing there gripping the handles of a turned-off lawnmower. He himself was very turned on, sporting a boner that was about to explode out his own fly.
He looked over his shoulder. No way was he going to turn to face her. He could only hope none of the residents were looking out their windows.
She had the window open and was leaning through it. “I forgot to ask, did you get any dinner?”
“Yeah, I grabbed something on the way over. Thanks.” Before she could ask anything else, he bent painfully to pull the cord that started the engine. Then he pushed the mower away from her, walking slowly. By the time he turned to head back in her direction, his body was under control and her window was closed partway.
He glanced at that window many times over the course of the evening, but she remained inside as he sowed grass seed and spread fertilizer.
Several of the old folks came to visit, including a few he hadn’t met before. A couple had already heard that some of the residents were making financial contributions and were checking out “the investment,” as they phrased it, so he tried his best to explain, be polite, and listen to their opinions.
Virginia Canfield brought a couple of white-haired ladies who she said had wanted to meet him and hear about the garden, so he chatted with them, figuring he’d stay late to dig the hole for the pond. These old folks had to go to bed soon, didn’t they?
But when her two companions went inside, Virginia remained. She tilted a rather mischievous grin up to him. “We ladies have been speculating about you, Jesse Blue. A fine young man like you—and don’t think that just because we’re old, we don’t appreciate a fine figure of a man—we’ve been wondering if there’s a special lady in your life.”
“Nope, no one special.” He wasn’t seeing anyone now, and in fact, while he’d had fun with lots of women, none really stood out. None had taken over his thoughts and fantasies the way Maura had.
“Now that’s a real pity.” Virginia studied him a moment longer, then said, “What kind of water plants are you thinking of for the pond?”
Glad she’d changed the subject, he asked, “What would you like?”
“Pink water lilies. I’ve always loved them. They’re strong and they’re feminine. It’s a good combination.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” In women, too. Women like Maura.
“I think Maura would like water lilies. Don’t you?”
“Yeah. She likes pink.” He’d seen that when she chose her own hanging baskets.
“You’re getting to know her. That’s good. She’s a lovely woman, isn’t she?”
At least when she wasn’t being all prissy and judgmental. “Yeah.”
“A special one.” She said those words like they had particular meaning.
“Uh, yeah. She is.” For a moment, he wondered if she really had changed the subject, or if she was still talking about his dating life. But no way would Virginia think a tool-belt guy was a good match for refined Maura.
The elderly woman gave a small, self-satisfied smile. “Well, I’ll say good night and let you finish up here. It’s getting dark.”
He escorted her across the lawn and safely inside, then got back to digging the hole. The glow from Maura’s window told him she was still there. Other windows were lit around the courtyard, and they provided enough light for him to keep going until he finished the hole.
It was time to pack it in. He glanced toward Maura’s window again. Should he tell her he was going? The golden glow drew him. First, though, he washed his face and hands under the tap.
When he approached her window, open just a slit now, she was at her desk, scribbling away with one hand while the other toyed with a curl of hair that had come loose from the neat knot at the back of her head.
On, he thought. She was sexier with the glasses on.
He wanted to keep watching, and knew she couldn’t see him out here in the dark garden, but he was no peeping Tom. “Maura,” he called softly, and tapped on the window frame.
She jerked upright and stared in his direction, then yanked her glasses off.
Maybe she was sexier with them off.
She came over and shoved the window wide open. “I didn’t realize it was so late. You’ve put in extra time, as usual.”
He leaned a shoulder against the outside wall. “Wanted to finish digging the hole, but people kept coming out. Hope it’s okay that I talked to them.”
She smiled. “I never anticipated that being part of your job. Never realized how interested the residents would be in the garden. But it’s lovely for them to be so involved. And guess what? I had three more people come in this evening and make contributions. They told me how helpful you’d been, answering their questions. You handled it really well. Thank you.”
He could feel the smile growing huge on his face and was about to respond when a phone rang.
“I should get that.” She crossed quickly to her desk and picked up a cell. “Maura Mahoney.” Then, “I’m glad you enjoyed the lecture.”
It must be Edward, the guy she’d blown off before. She’d given him another chance.
Seemed like every time he felt a real connection between him and Maura, something happened to ruin it. Maybe that was a good thing.
Figuring he’d been dismissed, he began to close the window.
Listening to her mother on the phone and seeing the window begin to slide shut, Maura couldn’t bear to see Jesse go. She lifted a hand, beckoning him to come inside.
He paused—darn it, what was she doing? he probably wanted to rush off to meet a date—then stretched the window wide again, climbed through, and took one of the vinyl guest chairs. He settled his body, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. Every move he made was graceful, in the way that a lion was graceful.
Maura tried to interrupt as Agnes raved about a recipe, but she couldn’t get a word in. She was having trouble figuring out who her mother was, these days. As a child, she’d wished her adoptive mother was home more, that she was more domestic and maternal like her real mom had been. Now that Maura was grown up and Agnes was making fewer trips and involving herself more in her daughter’s life, Maura found herself—guiltily—wishing the opposite. She loved Agnes and Timothy and still craved their approval, but it was easier to win approval when they were less involved in her life. Now her mother was saying she wanted to try the recipe on Friday, and Maura should come over.
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