A Marriage Between Friends (10 page)

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Authors: Melinda Curtis

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #General

BOOK: A Marriage Between Friends
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Jill had to think fast. If Edda Mae wanted to go, Jill would find a way to make it happen. “I could do a baked-potato bar the first night and barbecue burgers the second.”

Edda Mae shook her head. “What was I thinking? You can’t cook, clean the rooms and run things, not by yourself.” She brightened. “What about Vince?”

“He’s leaving.” Jill hoped he was packing as they spoke. She’d have to divorce him. She just…didn’t want to tell him yet. Jill touched her ring with her left thumb.

Edda Mae’s gaze was piercing. “You don’t know what you have there, Jill. He’s a good man. He’s—”

“Leaving,” Jill said, hoping it was true. “I’ll find someone in town to help me. I’m a big girl, Edda Mae. I can do this.”

“You said the same thing when you wanted to buy the place.”

“Well, you sold it to me in the end, didn’t you? I love you, Edda Mae, but you’ve got to come to terms with Francie’s choice.” Or make one of her own. It would be just Jill’s luck to have Edda Mae decide to move closer to her daughter at a time she needed her mentor the most.

“We didn’t get all the bungalows clean.” Edda Mae frowned. “Or put out the clean linens.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Jill knew there was a ton of work ahead of her, but this was so clearly what Edda Mae needed to do. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll finish wiping down the cabins. It’s been a busy morning—you might want to rest, too.”

“There you go again, saying I’m old and useless. That means you owe me a hug.” Edda Mae set Moonbeam down, then stood and enfolded Jill fiercely in her arms. “Someday you’ll realize that you need a man. I just hope you get smart before you let this one get away. I’d bet my dentures he loves you.”

There was undeniable chemistry between them. But love? Jill didn’t think Vince knew the meaning of the word. “I wouldn’t make that bet. It’ll be awfully hard to gum down your food.”

 

U
PDATE ME
on Indian casino ASAP.

Vince leaned against the fender of his Porsche and reread the message from his grandfather. Not that his grandfather had typed it. Aldo Patrizio dictated most of his missives from his wife’s bedside, and his assistant keyed them into the computer. There was no postscript about Vince’s grandmother’s condition, no warm closing. That type of correspondence had ended months ago, taking with it most of Vince’s hope that they might reconcile.

Vince wanted to talk to his grandfather and ask him his opinion of this deal. The profit potential was in question, as was the impact on the local community. But given their rocky relationship, Vince was sure his grandfather would laugh and call him weak. He’d certainly used the word to describe Vince enough times before.

His thumbs hesitated over the minute keyboard, held immobile by indecision. Where did his loyalties lie? Jill hated him—and for good reason, much as he tried not to care. His grandfather considered him dead weight. And Arnie was starting to doubt Vince’s dedication to the project.

Vince returned the BlackBerry to his belt clip, e-mail unanswered. Since there was no signal here, whatever he wrote he wouldn’t be able to send, so to reply was useless. And he wasn’t ready to call using a landline. He needed time to think the situation over.

“Hey, Teddy, what are you doing?” Vince asked, having spotted Teddy upstairs in the far corner of the back porch. Vince took the stairs two at a time to join him.

Teddy’s toes were on the bottom rail of the second-story landing, his arms draped over the top one. “I’m painting.” A sturdy wooden easel had been set up on the porch, hovering over Teddy’s work gloves and ski mask.

“Hmm.” Vince took a closer look. The paper on the easel was blank. Then he followed Teddy’s gaze. From the upper deck they had a good view of the slope leading down to a bit of road and the tribal land. The air was still clear and fresh after the rain, but there was nothing much for a boy to be staring at. “Painting what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Vince checked his watch. “When will you know?”

“Soon, I hope.” Teddy rested his chin on his fist. “Have you ever gone rafting?”

“No.”

A small gray bird swooped below them.

“I have. It’s a lot of fun. This is the last weekend for it because the river water is so low.”

Comprehension dawned. “Ah, the father-son rafting trip.”

Angling his head to the side, Teddy breathed longingly, “Yes.”

“I suppose a lot of your friends are going.”

“Yes.” That same longing.

Vince knew when he was being played. He wished he could satisfy the boy’s unspoken request, but he doubted Jill would let him.

With a sigh Teddy turned back to the easel. “I think I’ll paint now.”

“You’ve decided on something, have you?”

Teddy picked up the brush and dipped it in the blue paint. “I think I’ll paint the Mokelumne River.”

Of course. Vince forced the corners of his mouth down.

Another dramatic sigh. “And then maybe I’ll add a rafter or two.” With his brush, Teddy traced a sharply twisting line diagonally across the page.

Unable to hold back his laughter any longer, Vince waited until Teddy put the brush down to explain. “If you want to go on the rafting trip, why don’t you just ask?”

Before Vince knew what hit him, Teddy had thrown down his brush and leaped into Vince’s arms. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“I didn’t say I could take you.” Vince sobered. “We’ll have to ask—”

“Mom.” Teddy slid down and went back to the railing. “Forget it. She’ll say no.”

Even though Vince tended to agree, he couldn’t let Teddy give up. “Why don’t we ask her tonight at dinner?”

“You
are
Batman.” Teddy launched himself back at Vince. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

The boy could thank Vince all he wanted, but that didn’t mean Jill was going to let them go.

“If I’m Batman—” Vince was starting to feel like the Dark Knight, breaking the rules to make things right “—then you must be…”

Teddy stared at Vince, anxiously awaiting his pronouncement.

“Teddy, this is where you say which superhero you want to be.” It was another boy ritual.

“Uh, Spiderman?”

“He’s good. He could definitely kick Batman’s butt, but not Superman’s.”

There was hero worship—for Vince—in Teddy’s eyes.

“Okay, Teddy. It’s your turn to come up with a match-up. You know, Superman couldn’t beat…”

“Harry Potter?” Teddy laughed much too hard.

“You have no idea how to do this, do you?” Vince asked.

Teddy shook his head. “The boys at school do it, but…” He shrugged.

“Your education is sadly lacking.” And while Teddy painted, Vince clued him in on more secret rituals of boys.

CHAPTER TEN

“I
THOUGHT
you’d have left by now,” Jill snapped at Vince when she dragged herself in the door several hours later. He was a nice piece of eye candy, but Jill was too exhausted to be on guard tonight.

She had missed lunch, but the bungalows were clean and ready for guests. Edda Mae had helped her hang towels and stock the rooms with toiletries. Now she faced a dilemma—what to make for dinner when all she wanted to do was collapse on her bed.

Except something smelled wonderful.

And Vince was still here.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up? Edda Mae put a casserole in this afternoon.” Vince was in the kitchen chopping green pepper by the salad bowl, wielding the large knife as if he knew how to use it. The casserole was steaming on top of the stove.

Jill wanted Vince gone. She filled her nose with the spicy, warm scent of food. Her stomach rumbled.

She could deal with him after dinner.

“What have you two been doing all day?”

“We…um…I…painted and did my silent reading.” Teddy waved a book at her and spun in his chair to face her, his smile forced.

Jill’s mommy radar went off. Something wasn’t right here. Her birthday was months away, as was Christmas. And yet Teddy was hiding something. She scanned the living room, but nothing appeared broken or missing.

Finally she fixed Teddy with her best no-nonsense look. “Teddy—”

“Teddy’s a smart kid.” Vince tossed the salad as if it required most of his attention, as if unaware Jill was trying to interrogate her son.

A muscle in Jill’s jaw jumped. Vince knew what Teddy was hiding. She waited patiently for someone to cave in. Teddy didn’t usually last long under her look, but he was still fiddling with his book. Jill’s glare ricocheted between the two.

“Dinner’s in five. Just need to take out the rolls.” Vince wouldn’t look at Jill. “Why don’t you go clean up?”

The food smelled delicious. Jill was starving, but she held her ground.

“I’ll set the table.” As if on cue, Teddy popped up to help without being asked.

Jill narrowed her eyes at the two males of the species. Cooking dinner? Setting the table? They wanted something. Yet they said nothing, asked for nothing. Finally Jill gave up and went to change into something that didn’t smell of bug spray and disinfectant. She could unravel whatever was going on after she ate.

They made their move during dinner.

“What do you have planned for Teddy tomorrow?” Vince asked, dishing out his second helping of chicken-and-cheesy-rice casserole.

“Teddy’s our gopher.” Jill grimaced. She wasn’t breaking any child-labor laws. They ran a family business. Teddy helped out in the few ways he could. “It’s an important job.”

“I thought…I mean, I heard…” It wasn’t like Vince to hesitate. He glanced at Teddy, who made a go-for-it move with his eyebrows.

“Just spill it,” Jill said, trying to ignore the knot in her lower back.

“All the kids are going rafting tomorrow and I want to go, too,” Teddy blurted, pushing his plate away and standing. He produced a folded, wrinkled sheet of paper from his jeans pocket. He flattened out the creases and thrust it at her. “I downloaded the form from the Internet. I need your signature on this permission slip and twenty dollars to rent the raft.”

Jill gathered her dirty dishes. “I’ll take you rafting another day.”

Teddy let the paper fall onto the table. “No. It’s the father-son rafting trip.” He propped his hands on his hips and posed like Superman. All Teddy needed was a cape, some height and a few muscles.

Father-son?
Jill slouched in her chair. “But who…?” Jill’s mouth snapped shut. She knew who.

“We’re going.” Teddy gestured between Vince and himself. “No moms allowed.”

Now all Teddy’s urgency about a father made sense.

Vince shrugged under Jill’s withering stare. “Teddy really wants to go.”

Damn Vince. “Teddy never wanted to go before.” Before Vince barged into their lives with his own personal agenda and ruined the peaceful environment she’d created.

“I never asked before because I didn’t know I had a dad then.” The mutinous curl to Teddy’s lip left no doubt that Jill needed a bulletproof reason why Teddy shouldn’t go.

But she had no reason to ban Teddy from attending other than her distrust of Vince. He wasn’t the man of her dreams any longer; therefore, he wasn’t good enough to play the role of father. Unfortunately she had no one else to send Teddy with.

“He’s not your father.” Jill forced the words past stiff lips.

“He’s my stepdad. That’s almost the real thing.” Teddy beamed at Vince with misplaced hero worship.

Jill wanted to strangle Vince. She could live with her fears when she divorced Vince, but if Vince won Teddy over, his young heart would be broken. It was bad enough Vince was here, but to offer to take her son on the rafting trip? He had to have some ulterior motive.

As if reading her mind, Vince raised his hands in surrender. “No strings.”

Just the fact that Vince guessed what Jill was thinking annoyed her. “Teddy, start clearing the table please. I need to talk to Vince.”

“I want to go.” Teddy glared at Jill, giving her a glimpse of the mutinous teenager she’d never expected him to be. “With Vince.”

“And I said no.”

“You’re going to tell him he can’t take me.” Teddy’s lip started to tremble. He stomped into the kitchen with his plate.

“Teddy—” Jill wasn’t sure if she spoke in warning or to soothe.

“Big boys who do chores,” Teddy called from the kitchen, “get allowances and vacations.”

“I give you an allowance.” Jill refused to look at Vince.

“And they get to buy what they want. Like video games.” He’d worked himself up to near max volume.

“No video games. They dull your mind and desensitize you to reality.” She’d said the same thing to Teddy a hundred times before and thought he’d understood. But that was before Vince, who was looking at her as if she was from another planet and he was considering blasting her to smithereens with his ray gun.

“They don’t,” Teddy said mutinously. “They’re fun.”

“Teddy, you don’t know—”

“I played them at my friend’s house before. And today Vince let me play his.”

Jill scanned the area by the television for a game system, but she didn’t see any wires or consoles. Then she caught Vince’s glance at the desk. Jill stood and walked over. Teddy’s book was on top of something. She lifted it to reveal a black plastic rectangle, smaller than most eyeglass cases. Jill held it up.

“I didn’t know,” Vince said, reaching for the portable video game quickly, as if afraid she’d hurl it at him.

“Don’t bother,” Teddy said. “I’m her slave and she doesn’t want me to have any friends or any fun.” He ran into his room and slammed the door.

Jill had to sit down. Her little boy. Her baby. She’d been so careful raising him. And in one afternoon Vince had turned Teddy against her.

“It’s not enough that you have to ruin Railroad Stop. You have to sabotage my home life, too?”

“If you’re trying to blame what Craig did to you on video games, this is going to take a lot longer to sort out.” Vince’s voice was calm.

Jill shot out of her seat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Silverware clanked onto plates as she began clearing the table, sorely tempted to dump what was left of Teddy’s milk on Vince’s head. Instead, she stomped into the kitchen much as Teddy had done earlier, dumping the dishes none too gently into the sink.

“Don’t I?” Vince followed her with the casserole dish. “You’ve had a lot of time up here to think about that night. You’ve probably tried to put the pieces together like one of those mystery shows, tried to figure out what in Craig’s history made him such a predator.” Vince blocked Jill in the corner of the kitchen with a hand on either counter. “What did you come up with besides video games? Football? Money? Listen, Jill, his father treated his mother like shit. Rumors were that his mother had one hell of a drug habit. One night his father beat her to death and then shot himself. He probably would have killed Craig if he’d been in the house.”

Jill blinked back the tears as she shook her head slowly. “Please say you’re just making that up.” She didn’t want to feel sorry for Craig.

Large palms settled on her shoulders. “It’s the truth. They had money. They looked like they had everything. But Craig’s parents screwed up his head, not MTV or video games. Craig didn’t have anyone stable in his life.”

Taking a risk, Jill hooked her fingers on Vince’s wrists as something bitter inside her eased, then calmed further when he didn’t pull away. She closed her eyes. She’d been driven by resentment so long her knees almost gave way with relief. Involuntarily, her grip on Vince solidified, her need for support so desperate that she’d hold on to the one man with the power to take her down.

And yet, unlike Craig, the abuse Vince had suffered at the hands of his father hadn’t made Vince into a monster. Vince might be a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel like Craig. It would have been easier to believe the school rebel was the one to fear, but Jill knew better. “Somehow I think you would have turned out all right even if your grandparents
hadn’t
taken you in.”

Jill opened her eyes and looked at Vince, into dark eyes that held all the tenderness she’d needed at eighteen. Jill was filled with a yearning to be gutsy or sexy or at least normal, so that kissing Vince would seem as natural as breathing.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, as if they were teenagers and they were going through their first chaste embrace.

“I know,” she whispered back, clinging to the notion that they were two innocents embarking on this together.

His lips dropped closer. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“You talk way too much.”

Vince paused, a hair’s breadth from her mouth. “You can stop me at any time.”

His beautiful eyes were nearly black, languid, brimming with a longing that almost did Jill in. She pressed her lips to his, emboldened by the power he was giving her. She could end this at any time.

But she didn’t want to.

His lips were soft and warm, and his hands remained on her shoulders ready to catch her if she stumbled back. Only, she didn’t. She pressed herself closer until her breasts came up against his chest. As he drew in a shuddering breath, filling his lungs with air, Jill shifted minutely, creating a delicious friction between them. Her nipples hardened and her body throbbed.

Vince continued to kiss her with a tenderness that simultaneously soothed and urged. And Jill continued to shift her body, increasing the friction between them. The need to touch Vince this way became more insistent, her movements more desperate. Her breath hitched. Her breasts tingled. More. She needed more….

Vince groaned softly against her lips, rotating his head from side to side as if she was torturing him, which was crazy. He was torturing her just by standing there and letting her touch him. And then Vince sucked her lower lip into his mouth.

Jill stretched up toward Vince reflexively, bringing her hips against his. For one moment she felt a burst of pleasure
down there
from the rigidness of his body against hers. And then she realized she was pressing herself shamelessly against his erection.

“Stop.” Jill crumpled back against the counter, unable to look above the yoke of blue plaid that covered Vince’s chest, torn between wanting to continue her fully-clothed exploration of his body and panic that bad things would happen if she went too far. And it would be all her fault.

“Okay.” A terse acknowledgment of her command. Vince still held her shoulders, his wrists still encompassed by Jill’s hands. And then he added a softer, breathier, “Okay.”

The battery-operated wall clock hummed. They stood below it in the corner of the kitchen, thankfully out of sight of Teddy, should he decide to open his door and shout some more. If he came into the living room, though, he’d see them. And yet, Jill couldn’t move. Her body was a tangle of longing, and there was an intimacy to the moment she was reluctant to end.

Jill raised her eyes in wonder as she became aware of something. “Are you trembling, or is that me?”

His smile was strained. “It’s me.”

“I did that to you?” And he hadn’t ripped her clothes off and forced himself on her?

“By God, you did.” Vince sounded breathless. “And I’d let you do it again. Anytime. Even if it’s only for one night.”

Jill’s cheeks heated. “Even if I…even if you couldn’t…”

“Even if
we
couldn’t,” Vince confirmed, lowering his forehead until it touched hers.

Flies could have navigated easily into Jill’s mouth, it was that widely ajar. There was no way the man in front of her was Vince Patrizio. He wanted Jill to believe he’d make do with third base?

Teddy’s door opened. “I’m brushing my teeth and going to bed.”

The bathroom door slammed. The fan came on.

She supposed she’d have to let Teddy go on the father-son rafting trip.

Teddy, who’d been under Vince’s spell and conveniently broken rules he knew by heart. Jill couldn’t blame it all on Vince. He didn’t have kids. He wouldn’t know to check with a parent before exposing a child to a new food, a movie rated above G or—the biggie—video games.

Wait a minute. Jill blinked. She was under Vince’s spell, too. A marriage between friends?

“You almost had me,” she said, slipping past Vince, turning to face him from the other side of the kitchen. “What? Because I didn’t take you up on the offer, you tried Plan B? You disgust me. All deals are off.”

 

S
HE’LL NEVER
trust me.

Vince pounded down the stairs into the black night in search of air. He couldn’t blame Jill. No. This mess was all of his own making. He should have treated her as a business associate from the start, not let himself get caught up in this attraction.

Long strides and the bite of cold air did nothing to ease the sting of impending failure. He was so close to forging a deal he could taste it. And yet, he couldn’t deny the feeling that he needed Jill to make it happen. Vince found himself heading up the trail he and Jill had taken this morning when he’d kissed her the first time.

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