Beale Street Blues (5 page)

No woman had ever intrigued him the way Darling had. He'd planned it that way. But, now that he'd met her, something had changed.

He wanted her.

Trailing droplets behind him, he headed back to his room. Nothing outside of Darling quitting or his firing her would put them in a situation any different from the shit Rodney had created with Barbara.

CHAPTER FOUR

P
issed, Barbara sat on the hotel bed waiting for Rodney to arrive. She drank her wine a little too quickly and choked. The oaky tasting liquor burned her throat as she gasped. She released an angry exhale as her throat cooled. But, her earlier conversation with her sister riled her all over again. So what if she wasn't married? So what if she didn't have kids? It didn't mean a thing. She wasn't a stay-at-home mom like her sister. She worked for a living and even if she had to play the game a little, she could've done it without Rodney, if she'd had the chance.

What in the hell did Pat know about anything?

Pat was the kid her parents' loved more. They may never admit it, but they didn't have to say it out loud. It was written all over their faces at every family dinner or trip. Even at church. They always saved a seat for Pat, Ray—her husband, and their son. If Barbara showed up late, she had to grab a seat wherever she found one.

Her sister, like any other good Southern girl married her high-school sweetheart. They lived near the Mississippi River in Harbortown. Because living in Midtown or Germantown wasn't good enough for Pat. No, they had to live on an island connected by a bridge to Memphis. Harbortown had its own grocery stores, shopping center, bars and restaurants. They didn't have to cross the bridge unless they were coming to visit her or their parents.

Barbie, you have such a cute little home.
That's all Pat had to say when Barbara moved to Germantown and invited the family over for dinner.

Again, she checked her watch. It'd been thirty minutes since she'd spoken to Rodney. She rose and checked herself out in the mirror. Rodney bought the negligee she wore as a birthday present last year. She might be a little plumper, but she was still too hot for him. Smoothing her dark hair along her pale shoulders, she planned what she would say to him and their night.

She tossed back the last swallow of wine in her glass to calm the shivers running up and down her spine at the thought of spending another night with the fat freak. Unfortunately, jobs like hers were hard to find in Memphis and she had no desire to start over again.

Nine years. That's how long she'd been with the company. Right out of college, she'd taken the job with a starting salary higher than any of her friends. What kind of loser would she be if she had to search for a job—in this economy—while everyone else was building families and buying big second homes in the best parts of town?

What would Pat and her parents think of her?

Failure.
That's what.

The clicks of the hotel door cued her to refill her glass and fill Rodney's.

"Hey, baby." He slid his tongue over his lower lip as he let his eyes travel her body.

His smile made her skin crawl. She gulped her wine. "Hey, handsome." She forced the words. "What took you so long?"

"My damn wife had a million questions." He threw his jacket on the bed and quickly disrobed, displaying his huge stomach and too small briefs. Taking the glass of wine she offered, he reached for her breast. He squeezed them as if he was testing a cantaloupe for ripeness.

She swiped his hand away. "Baby, you know I like that, but first, we need to talk—"

He reeked of skunky beer. His mouth covered hers, wet and sloppy as usual. When he mumbled his way down her neck, he left an unpleasant trail of saliva. "We'll talk later."

Pushing at the soft flesh of his chest, Barbara stepped back. "Unless you want your wife to ask a million more questions," she spat angrily, "we need to talk, now." Then, she forced a smile. She didn't want to piss him off before she got what she wanted.

"What?" A stunned look of disbelief slowly crawled across his face. "Why would you do that?"

Adjusting her boobs to show him just what he might never have again, she went on, "I've been calling you since my meeting this morning and you didn't respond." She slapped her glass down on the table beside her. "Why would you agree to those changes—?"

"I didn't agree to anything," he yelled. "You're putting my marriage in jeopardy playing this kind of childish game!"

"I'm not playing games with you. You promised me, Rodney." She blinked her eyes, shocked that tears blurred her vision. Of all the stupid things. She'd begun to cry. Where was the control she needed?

"You're fucking up my career and my marriage,
and
you're crying?" He ran his fingers through the thinning hair on his head before pulling it free and slapping it against his leg.

"What about my career?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

He had no response.

Bastard!

She swiped the tears from her eyes. "Don't worry about my tears. Just worry about this…" She let her robe fall, and stripped the negligee from her body.

His anger disappeared as he drank in the sight of her breasts and hips. "Please." He grabbed her hand, and put it on his crotch. "I want you."

He'd give her what she wanted one way or another. What he'd promised.

Closing her eyes, she allowed him to lead her to the bed.

Jaxon's tongue slid up the length of her neck, slowly. The longer he took to reach her mouth, the more Darling craved the touch of his lips to hers. She wound her fingers into the short locks of his hair and pulled him tighter to her neck.

He sucked harder as he pushed himself deeper inside of her.

The stronger and deeper his thrusts, the more her body became his.

Jaxon raised his mouth from her neck and suddenly, his beautiful eyes were locked on hers. He dipped his head closer and closer.

It was taking forever. All she wanted was to feel his lips against hers. Something was wrong. Instead of getting closer, he'd begun to pull away. What was happening?

No!

She tightened her grip, but nothing worked.

Darling's eyes sprang open. Jolted from her sleep again, this time she was thankful. The dreams of Jaxon that'd been filling her nights were becoming too powerful to fight and too often, she woke angry that they hadn't been real. They—he—always felt so real. Her body obviously couldn't tell the difference because it responded every time. She'd taken to locking her bedroom door at night because she didn't know if she was acting out the dreams in her sleep. But, from the look of the sheets twisted around her body, she had to be participating.

Reaching beneath the covers, she untangled her satiny gown. As she ran her hands along the soft fabric, she smiled. What was she doing dressing for her dream-lover? She smoothed the covers around her, flipped the sweaty pillow to the dry side and lay back in bed. The train thundered along the tracks behind her parents' house. Its power rattled the metal case she had sitting against the wall beside her bed.

Memories of her childhood danced through her head as she listened to the strange music around her. She remembered playing in the backyard while her mother hung clothes outside. That was before her parents could afford to buy a washer and dryer.
Before her mother
got a good job
.

They never had a ton of money, just enough to not be poor. As soon as she could leave, she did. Now she was back and this time, she had no real idea of when she would be able to leave again. She'd been gone so long it was weird to be back. She felt so different from the child who had left, but not different enough. Not different enough for Jaxon. As she sat listening to the roar of the train, she knew her ex was right. Sometimes, it's best to put some things behind you. She just never thought her ex would ever think that way about her.

The scream of the train's whistle quieted and she turned over, pulling the covers over her head. She welcomed the heavy weight of her eyelids.

But, as she wrapped her arms around her pillow and snuggled deeper, her alarm sounded, chasing away sleep and dreams of Jaxon.

Jaxon's beautiful bright smile greeted Darling as she walked into her office. "Good morning," he said.

He'd filled her nights and now, he sat watching her. She needed coffee or something to handle seeing him first thing in the a.m. "Morning." She dropped her purse on the corner of her desk and tried to control her thoughts as she sat. "Did we have an appointment?"

"No, but I thought maybe we should talk a little more about the changes."

She turned on her computer and began to click in her passwords. She welcomed the distraction, and tried her best to focus on anything other than him, and the persimmon scent filling her office. He smelled the same as he did in her dreams. How was that possible? "Okay, sure…just let me—"

"No, not now, I thought maybe lunch or dinner." He waited.

She rummaged around her desk for something. Her fingers touched the stapler before she realized that was stupid. Again, she clicked away at her keyboard. He couldn't see her. He didn't know she was typing in nothing because she couldn't focus. "Uhh, I don't know about dinner." There was no way she would be able to sit in some dimly lit restaurant staring into his eyes while eating. A few of her dreams included whipped cream and some well-placed strawberries. She would never make it through dessert.

The smile that flashed across his face told her he knew exactly why she said no to dinner. "Lunch, then."

"Lunch. Yeah—that would be okay." The freaking teenager inside her choked on her words.
Why did this man keep scrambling her brain?

"Then, let's say one o'clock." He stood to leave.

The man took his sweet time leaving. Every move seemed calculated to capture her attention and she enjoyed it. "Okay," she agreed.

The moment he left, Darling flopped back in her chair. How on earth would she make it through lunch with this man? Between her dreams and reality, there was no escape. She paused before inhaling a long deep breath.
He smelled so damn good!

She needed to splash a little water on her face to cool herself off.

The water from the bathroom faucet could not run cold enough to cool the images of him in her mind or the memories of his touch heating her body. No matter how many times she dipped her face into the cool water in her hands, nothing helped.

The sound of sniffles drew her attention. "Hello?" Only one of the stalls had a closed door. Obviously, whoever it was had hidden there for privacy and her presence was an intrusion.

No answer.

She walked over to the stall that had shoes visible. Gorgeous tan shoes with red trim and a four inch heel.
Barbara.
"Are you okay?"

Again, no answer.

She waited and finally the door opened. Barbara walked out. "Mind your own damn business."

"Barbara, I'm sorry about all this." Darling dabbed her hands against her skirt.

"Sure you are." The woman's voice held an edge of bitterness. She didn't have to say anything else. Her stiff jaw and piercing glare said it all. Barbara swiped at her tears.

Despite her words, the pain in her eyes made Darling want to soothe her. The woman could be a pain in the butt, but nobody should be hiding in the bathroom crying. Then, Darling's brain clicked into gear. Barbara's fear didn't have anything to do with her. The woman had screwed the boss, that disgusting idiot Rodney. Apparently, it hadn't done her much good and she realized she'd taken the wrong one to bed. If she had the chance, she knew Barbara would correct that mistake. Then, somebody else, maybe even Darling, would be the one in the bathroom crying. "I had nothing to do with any of this." She didn't know what else to say. It was the truth as far as she knew.

"Really?" Barbara dabbed at her red nose. "Why would you say that? What are you hiding?"

I slept with the boss. Just like you!
"Nothing. I'm concerned—"

"Then why has Jaxon taken such a liking to you?" Barbara didn't bother to look directly at her, but instead asked her question to the mirror in front of her as she glared at Darling's reflection.

She should've just left. Trying to be nice, now the woman stared at her trying to figure out her secret. "What do you mean by that?"

Barbara spun around to face her. "Since he arrived, he seems to only have one thing on his mind. You."

"That's not true." And if it were, how would she know.

"Rodney told me that he's fixated with you." She blew her nose. "He said that it's all about you."

"That's not true. I don't think Rodney would say that." Had she or Jaxon done anything to give away what happened between them? Had they given Rodney any clues? "Everything he knows about me, he knows from Rodney."

"Listen, you little bitch." She tossed the make-up and tear soaked tissue into the trash. "If you think you can beat me at this game, think again."