Authors: Susan Fox
Body Heat (15 page)
Last night he’d fantasized about Maura riding behind him on the bike. Nope, that’d never happen.
Maura’s phone buzzed again. This time Ming-mei said, “I thought you’d like to know that the garden center truck is here. Also, I bought tables and chairs and they’ll be delivered this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Ming-mei.”
“Maura, do you know where Mr. Dykstra was going at lunchtime?”
“No idea. Why?”
“He went out almost an hour ago with Jesse Blue. He left his cane at my desk.”
Maura frowned. “Maybe they went across to the mall for lunch. But he shouldn’t go far without his cane.”
Troubled, she walked out to the entrance. She had to smile at the sight of flats of bright flowers being unloaded from a green van. The van was spotless and bore the Sunnyside Nursery logo, and the young men unloading the plants wore tidy jeans and green Sunnyside smocks. Yes, her mother would approve of the professionalism of this delivery.
The delivery men had just taken a load into the building when the rumble of an engine drew her attention. Jesse’s bike skimmed down the driveway. There were two people aboard. Maura stopped smiling. She walked toward the parking lot as Jesse pulled into it. Surely he wouldn’t have . . .
Fred Dykstra clambered awkwardly off the back and almost lost his balance as he tried to stand. Maura ran toward him, but Jesse had already steadied the man. The same way he’d steadied her, a couple of times.
“I’m all right, I’m all right,” Fred said. “Just stiffened up a little.” He beamed at Maura, his whole face one giant smile. “We went for a ride.”
“I see that.” She bit her lip. She wanted to yell at the pair of them, but she couldn’t bear to wipe the grin off the old man’s face. She’d discuss it with him later.
As for Jesse Blue . . . She trailed behind as he walked Fred inside, steadying him until he retrieved his cane. The two men shook hands and Fred hobbled away.
When he was out of hearing, Maura told Jesse, “I want to talk to you. In my office, now.” She marched away.
Chapter 9
W
hen Jesse followed her into her office, Maura shut the door and demanded, “What did you think you were doing?”
hen Jesse followed her into her office, Maura shut the door and demanded, “What did you think you were doing?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “He asked to go and I figured it wouldn’t hurt.” There was no hint of apology in his voice.
“It wouldn’t hurt? What if he’d fallen off? He could have been seriously injured. Not to mention the fact that Cherry Lane could have been liable. Our residents are required to sign waivers when they go on outings.”
“Lawyer stuff,” he said disparagingly.
She was far too close to him. His body gave off a kind of heat, a magnetism, that made it hard to concentrate on what she was saying. She retreated behind her desk and sat down. “Yes, it is lawyer stuff, as you so elegantly put it. We’re legally responsible for the people who stay here, and we have to take that seriously.”
He flopped down in a guest chair, uninvited. “But . . .” He frowned. “I don’t work here. This was just a guy thing. I’ve got a bike, he wanted a ride, I took him.”
It took her a moment to translate that. “You’re suggesting it really didn’t have to do with Cherry Lane, it was personal. Hmm. That’s a good point, but . . . Look, the fact is, he met you here, the two of you left from here, it was the middle of a workday. Cherry Lane agreed to have you work here, so I’m pretty sure we’re legally responsible for your actions while you’re here.” And she was the supervisor, so it was her responsibility. Thank God nothing had happened, or she’d have lost all chance of that promotion.
He was sprawled back in the chair, his knees bent and legs spread, looking as hot as ever. She couldn’t believe she and this man had kissed. Maybe it really had been another of her hormonal fantasies.
“It was just a bike ride,” he said.
He honestly didn’t seem to understand what he’d done wrong, which made it hard to remain mad at him. It was also next to impossible to avoid staring at his crotch, which was aimed in her direction. Close to where the two seams crossed, she could see a distinct bulge in the worn, faded fabric. Testicles, she thought. What an odd, clinical word. The slang term, “balls,” seemed more appropriate. What would it be like to cup their soft weight?
“It’s fun,” Jesse said.
“What?” She knew another of those embarrassing flushes was brightening her cheeks.
“He’s a good rider. Didn’t come to any harm.”
“Thank heavens for that.” She hoped he would attribute her flush to annoyance.
Jesse’s lips curved up. “You oughta have heard him whoop.”
Maura grinned spontaneously, then straightened her lips. Having Jesse Blue around was anything but boring. Still, she couldn’t let him distract her.
Be thorough in formulating your plan, and disciplined in carrying it out.
“No more rides,” she said sternly.
Be thorough in formulating your plan, and disciplined in carrying it out.
“No more rides,” she said sternly.
He rolled his eyes.
“Jesse, I mean it. I’m your supervisor, and that makes me responsible.”
Humor glinted in his eyes. “Ought to come for a ride, then. See how safe it is.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” A fast, throbbing machine under her, her thighs spread wide around Jesse’s denim-clad hips, her arms wrapped around his hot, muscular torso . . . Yes, it was totally ridiculous that the idea should be appealing. Besides, he didn’t really mean it; he was just trying to get to her.
He said something under his breath. It sounded like, “Chicken.”
She was, if that meant a person who avoided taking risks. She preferred to think of herself as sensible. And the sensible thing to do now was to ignore his provocative remarks and get back to her point. “No rides. Not with any of the residents. Is that understood?”
He heaved a disapproving sigh. “If any of them ask, I’ll tell them to talk to you.” He shoved himself to his feet. “I’ll go plant the flowers.”
“You haven’t had lunch.”
“That was my lunch hour. I’m okay.” He opened her door and sauntered off.
She hadn’t eaten lunch, either, so she headed toward the dining room to grab a snack to hold her until teatime with Virginia. On the way, she popped her head into the kitchen and said to Felipe, one of the cooks, “There’s a man working in the courtyard. Would you mind taking him a sandwich and a cold drink when you get a chance?” She thought about the size of Jesse Blue and the energy he expended in the garden. “Better make that a couple of sandwiches.”
Then she settled down with a group of residents and listened as they dissected last night’s bridge game. There, for probably the first time today, she could relax. At least until Sophie Rudnicki pushed back her chair and stood up, saying, “I want to see what’s happening in the garden.”
Hilda Jenssen promptly followed suit. “There’s always something new, isn’t there? Makes life interesting these days.”
“It certainly does,” Maura said dryly.
“That gardener you hired is doing a fine job,” Mrs. Jenssen said. “You’re to be commended, my dear.”
“Actually, it was Louise who, uh, hired him. But yes, he’s doing a good job.”
“Brightens up the scenery, too,” Mrs. Rudnicki said. “Don’tcha think?”
“I really didn’t notice.” Lying again, but what else could she say?
Mrs. Rudnicki snorted. “Open your eyes. Single girl like you, I’d think you’d be paying more attention.”
Mrs. Jenssen gave a tinkly laugh. “Oh, Sophie, what are you thinking? Maura date a gardener?” She cocked her head in Maura’s direction. “No, I see you with a professional. You know, my niece is a paralegal in a law firm. I wonder if there are some nice single lawyers there.”
“Mrs. Jenssen, please.” Maura held up both hands. Now that she was thirty, was everyone going to try to match-make her? “In fact, I met a very nice man last night. A university professor.”
“I hope it works out, dear. It’s fun to be single when you’re young, but there comes a time when it’s more rewarding to share your life with a partner.”
Oh, great, now she was no longer
young
.
young
.
“Especially if you find a partner who’s fun,” Mrs. Rudnicki chimed in. “A girl’s got to let down her hair sometimes, doesn’t she?”
Those words sent a small shiver through Maura. Her grade twelve friend, Sally, always used to say, “Come on, girlfriend, loosen up and let your hair down.” Sometimes, Maura let herself be persuaded, and often they’d had a great time. But not on prom night . . .
“That Jesse looks like a whole lot of fun,” Sophie Rudnicki was saying. She started to walk away, saying over her shoulder, “You coming, Hilda?”
The two elderly women bustled away, arguing over what kind of man made the best husband.
Maura knew the answer to that question: The man you were most compatible with.
She took her leave of her other lunch companions, musing about whether she was totally uptight and stodgy. She had fun, didn’t she? She watched old movies, cooked nice meals, enjoyed a glass of wine, and she had a pink geranium to put on her windowsill. Or, if those things were her idea of fun, did that just go to prove how stodgy she was? She had a feeling that was what Sally would say.
People who take risks are simply foolish, and poor planners
. That’s what Agnes and Timothy always said. And they were right that avoiding risks was wise, and letting her hair down had proved to be a bad idea. Still, a woman shouldn’t let herself be crippled by inhibitions.
. That’s what Agnes and Timothy always said. And they were right that avoiding risks was wise, and letting her hair down had proved to be a bad idea. Still, a woman shouldn’t let herself be crippled by inhibitions.
She was glad when, as she passed the reception desk where Lizzie Gilmore and Virginia Canfield were talking to Ming-mei, Lizzie flagged her down and interrupted her train of thought. “Have you seen the furniture Ming-mei picked out?”
“No. Has it arrived?”
She followed the two older women to the courtyard door and gazed after them as they went outside. A couple of old dears swung happily on the new swing set and half a dozen others—including Sophie Rudnicki and Hilda Jenssen—sat in green chairs with colorful padding. Various coffee cups and glasses littered two green tables. The courtyard was a completely different place than it had been a day ago.
One thing she’d say for Jesse, he didn’t let the visitors keep him from his work. He kept planting flowers while the old-timers chatted. He looked up when Lizzie and Virginia joined the group and said something that made them laugh.
Maura went back to the reception desk. “Good work, Ming-mei. The furniture looks great and our residents are enjoying it.”
The young woman flushed. “Thank you, Maura.”
Maura felt a warm glow as she walked back to her office. Maybe she wasn’t so awful at human relations after all. For some reason, Jesse’s presence, disturbing as it was, had made her more sensitive to the people around her.
It was such a lovely day that she eased her window open. When she got back to work, she was aware of the buzz of conversation and the occasional laugh. It was companionable, and it lifted her spirits.
Jesse was used to working with a construction crew. Having a bunch of seniors hanging around was different, but he kind of got into it. They didn’t really interfere with his work, just occasionally told him what plants should go where. It was a kick to hear them laughing together.
He eyeballed the bedding plants that remained unplanted, then glanced up at the sun. Must be around two thirty. Setting up the swing set, then the new tables and chairs, had set him back. He’d hoped to finish the planting and also fertilize and water the lawn today, but that wasn’t going to happen. At least he ought to be able to get all the young plants in the ground if he stayed a little late.
“Jesse?”
It was Maura calling him. He glanced around, seeing that she’d shoved her office window wide open and was beckoning him. He peeled off his gloves, wiped a hand across his sweaty brow, and headed over.
“You’re making good progress,” she said.
“Thanks.” He was glad she’d gotten over being mad about the bike ride.
The windowsill was only a couple of feet high. Inside, she sat sideways on it, swinging those slim legs to one side so her skirt rode up a little. He lounged against the wall of the building, checking out her fine knees and bare forearms.
“I was thinking about what we should line up for your next job.” She sounded excited, which brought his gaze to her face in a hurry. Her eyes were sparkling.
“Yeah?” It was nice talking here, just the two of them, rather than in the middle of a bunch of seniors.
“You know that pool I mentioned? The waterfall and so on?”
“Yeah.”
“You said you’d be able to do the work.”
“Sure. But I thought you didn’t have the money.”
“When the Board discussed the idea, we figured we’d have to pay for a landscape design person and the labor, as well as the supplies. If you can do the work . . .” Her head was tilted to one side, her face glowed with enthusiasm, and the sun shot sparks off her hair. She made such a damned pretty picture that he had trouble concentrating on what she was saying.
“Sure can. And you don’t need a designer.” You looked at a piece of land, thought about the sun and shade, considered who was going to use it, then the pictures formed in your head. “We can figure it out.”
“Really?”
“Maybe ask Virginia, too. She’s got some real good ideas. Used to have a huge yard. And volunteered at one of those botanical gardens.”
“I do remember her saying that. So, how much do you figure the materials would cost? And the plants and so on? I can run some numbers and present a proposal at the next Board meeting.”
“Depends on what we’re talking about.” He turned and studied the courtyard. “It’d help if I could sketch something out.”
“Just a minute.” She hopped off the windowsill into her office, rummaged around in a cabinet, and returned with a pad of paper and one of those click-click pens she was so fond of. She handed them through the window.
He accepted them willingly. He was fine with sketching, just so long as he didn’t have to write any words. “Wanna come out and talk about it?”
It wouldn’t have surprised him if she went standoffish again, but instead she looked pleased. “All right.” She began to close the window.
A devil—the same one who’d invited her on a bike ride—made him say, “Why take the long way?” He reached for the window frame and tugged it in his direction. She’d turned down the ride; how would she react to the window?
She stared at the frame, her eyes glazing over the way they sometimes did.
He glanced down, too, to see what she was looking at. His big brown hand rested close to her pale, delicate one. The contrast was startling and pretty much illustrated the difference between the two of them. But it was sexy, too . . .
Her skin looked so feminine, so tempting . . .
If he moved his hand just an inch, he would touch her. His vision blurred . . .
His dark hand stroked the back of hers, soft as a flower petal. Unable to stop, he traced a path up her bare arm, to her shoulder. Somehow her blouse had disappeared. He spread his hand across her throat, feeling the fine bones just under that creamy skin, the pulse beating wildly. Beating for him.
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