Cover Story (15 page)

He handed me the lilies. I took the flowers and stepped aside to let him in. He cocked an eyebrow as he passed but remained silent. Then he did a slow turn in the middle of the room before his eyes returned to me.

“You know, she
looks
like Tobi Fletcher …”

I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, give it a rest.” I strode off to find a vase.

“Ah, she
sounds
like Tobi Fletcher …” he said, eyes dancing. “It’s kinda like
The Twilight Zone
in here.”

Would bludgeoning him to death with calla lilies undermine all the preparation I’d done?

As I filled the vase, I focused on the plan. C: check. R: ch— oh! Music. I rushed over and pressed play on the stereo. Dig Dog’s heavy rock blared out through the speakers and I quickly pressed stop. We could have silence. Silence could be sexy. Certainly.

I took a breath and deliberately relaxed my shoulders.

A: check.

Z for zeal. I could do zeal.

“Simon, I wanted you to come over because I think we have unfinished business.”

“We do?”

“The kiss in the park.” I took a step closer. “I want to finish it.”

How much zeal was required? I didn’t want to over-zeal him before segueing into yield. I peered into his eyes. He didn’t look over-zealed. He looked … confused.

I took another step forward, ending mere inches from his body. The heat that radiated from him was enough to give me goose bumps.

I ran a finger down the front of his shirt. “I think it’s time we stop this farce.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “We have a farce?”

I took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to make this easy. That was okay. I wouldn’t fail no matter how much he fought. I had zeal on my side.

I grabbed his shirt and yanked him the last inch, landing my mouth on his. He hesitated, but I had enough enthusiasm for us both. I kissed him for all I was worth, drawing him toward the couch, then pushed him down on the cushions.

Good. We were in position. See, I knew I could do this. I reached for him again but he reared back and grabbed my shoulders to keep me from following his retreat.

“Tobi?”

“Mmm?” I struggled against his hands.

“What’s going on here, exactly?”

I froze and glared at him. “I’m seducing you.”

“Right.” He still held my shoulders.

I felt a moment’s doubt. “You said you wanted me.”

“There’s no question of that.” He grinned.

“Well, shut up and let me seduce you.” I lunged at him again.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He released my shoulders and, as I leaned into his face, I saw his eyes dance. No matter. It wouldn’t be long now and he’d be burning with passion for me.
Any
second.

I pushed him back so he lay along the couch and I positioned myself on top of him, wriggling against him as much as I could.

He groaned and this time when I kissed him, he was ready. His hand came up to cup the back of my head and he slipped his tongue between my lips.

Suddenly, I was in the grip of Hollywood-style lust again. But this time it was acceptable. I’d set out to do it, which put me in control. Heart racing, I ran my hands along his arms then down his sides, bunching his shirt as I went, then ripped it from his jeans. I moaned into his mouth as my fingers made contact with his skin and I arched back a little to touch his chest, not breaking the kiss.

He tugged at the shoelace straps of my dress, easing one down my shoulder. God, yes. Then I remembered my lace teddy. Fully clothed on the couch. Underwear on the bed.

Damn, this seduction thing was hard work. I hoped he appreciated it as I swatted his hand away from my strap and guided it to my butt instead.

His hips bucked gently when I scraped my nails down his torso—it was working! Was it ever! Zeal had done its job—time to move onto yield.

I let my body go limp against him, praying Grace knew what she was talking about. Time to bring out his inner caveman.

He eased off on the kiss and stilled his hands. “What’s wrong, Tobi?”

“Nothing.”

He rolled me against the back of the couch so there was a little room between the lengths of our bodies, and scanned my face. I did my best to look yield-y.

He frowned. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?”

It seemed yield wasn’t quite as successful as zeal. Where was Cave-Simon? Perhaps I should go back to zeal? Grace had said I should alternate them. I lunged for his mouth.

He caught my shoulder again and pinned me back against the red throw. Lucky I’d stopped him exposing the pink lace now I was framed by the red.

“Tobi?”

Although my shoulders were imprisoned, my hands weren’t. I traced a finger down his exposed belly to the waistband of his jeans, heading for the bulge that awaited me.

Simon groaned and lifted me as he moved so we sat side by side. He held both my wrists in one hand and my shoulder with his other. There was nothing I could do. Failure loomed, gloomy and menacing. Why had I thought his biceps were sexy? They were purely instruments of persecution.

I wrenched away from his grasp and edged further down the couch, tears pricking the back of my eyes.

“Tobi?” he asked again, his voice gentle now.

I was a complete failure as a woman. Was there another woman on the planet who’d failed in the seduction of a man who
already
wanted her? One tear slipped free, but before it could slide down my face and expose me, I swiped it away. “I think you should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He moved closer and wiped a second tear with the pad of his thumb. “Tell me what happened here tonight.”

“I tried to seduce you. I failed,” I said in a monotone.

“I wouldn’t call it a failure.” He glanced down at the bulge beneath his zipper.

“Then why aren’t we in bed?” I’d aimed for anger but my voice came out dejected.

“God, I wish we were.” He took a shuddering breath. “But something’s not right here. It doesn’t feel honest somehow.” He tipped my chin up with a finger. “Tell me what I’m missing. Why were you doing this?”

I moved my chin away from his finger and folded my arms over my chest. “I was trying to be like other women.”

He frowned, and seemed puzzled. “Why?”

I focused on a candle flame nearby. “Everyone’s been telling me to loosen up. Heck, even you told me. And Grace said a less uptight person would seduce you.” I watched the flame flicker through blurry vision. “I’ve never seduced anyone before so Grace gave me some advice.”

“What was it?” He reached over and wound a strand of my hair around a finger.

I sighed. No point being coy now. “She gave me a mnemonic: C.R.A.Z.Y. Clothes,” I glanced down at my wrinkled brown dress. “Room,” I made a sweeping gesture. “Attitude. Then I was supposed to alternate between zeal and yielding.”

“Ah. That explains the wet limpet impersonation.” He didn’t laugh, but I could tell he wanted to, damn him. I smacked his hand away.

“Okay, Tobi, I have some advice of my own to give.” He sat up straight. “I want you in bed right now so much I’m actually in pain. But it’s not going to happen tonight.” He took my hand, but kept his distance. “It’ll happen when you want me.”

I opened my mouth to protest but he laid a finger over my lips. “I don’t mean when you’ve made a decision to loosen up and I’m your coming out parade. I mean when you simply want me as much as I want you. Heck, I’d even take you if you wanted me half as much, because my want is pretty damn strong. But it has to be about you and me, and only that. And when you’re ready, you don’t need props or a plan. Do you want to really know how to seduce me?”

I nodded but couldn’t meet his eyes—I’d moved beyond the realms of embarrassed and slid easily into mortified.

“You turn up and say, ‘I’m ready.’ That’s it. When you do that with plain, honest desire I’ll have this dress off you in less than a second.”

I glanced back at the candle flame, wanting to pout but not letting myself. I never pouted. “I wore a pink lace teddy underneath.”

He grinned. “Okay, I’ll amend the instructions. Turn up wearing your pink lace teddy and say, ‘I’m ready.’ Although the first plan will still work. This one will just be more fun.”

A smile crept across my face. “If you’re going, you’d better go.”

He stood. “All right. I’ll leave, but there’s one last thing.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet, flush against him.

Before I realized his intention, he’d grasped my face with his hands and caught my mouth in a scorching kiss. My lips opened without conscious thought and he took full advantage. My toes curled and my heart went into overdrive.

Then he broke away, coming back for a chaste kiss, then another, before he stepped away and sauntered to the door.

I stood, stunned by the emotional intensity of the kiss and his apparent ease at walking away from it.

As his hand rested on the doorknob, he turned and said over his shoulder, “See you, Tobi. I’ll be waiting.”

And then he left.

I was typing an article on miracle hair removal techniques when Sofia sent an email asking me to pop by her desk. Jumping on the excuse to delay more words on body hair, I weaved through the cubicles to hers. “What’s up?”

She gestured to an open manila folder. “I think it’s time we officially gave up on the story about the scandal in the senator’s office. Kevin’s always been against it and the contact won’t speak to us. All we’ve got is background research.”

I dropped onto the corner of her desk and sighed. “I know you’re right, but I can’t let it go. It’s too big a story.” Besides, I had to succeed at
something
. Lately, all I seemed to do was fail. Finding the gnomicide perp, Simon … I winced as I remembered him walking out my door after all the effort I’d gone to.

Sofia shook her head. “There are other stories I could use my spare time researching. I want to close the file.”

“But if our contact—”

“If she rings in, we’ll open it again. But for now,” she flipped the folder closed, “I’m off the case.”

Heaviness weighted my chest as I took the folder from her. Sofia’s phone rang and I dragged myself up to leave, but she laid a hand on my arm. “Hang on, she’s here.” She passed the receiver to me. “Front desk is putting a call through for you.”

I took the receiver and waited for it to connect. “Tobi Fletcher.”

“Good morning. I’m Madison Quintana from Quintana and Associates. We’re working on an ad campaign for Gardens, Gardens, Gardens and we’d be interested in using the Los Alamos Court gnomes in the promotional material. I wondered if you could give me the name of the owner of the gnomes.”

There’s a golden rule in journalism about not getting personally involved with people’s stories, but there was something different about Los Alamos Court. Besides, as I explained to Madison, they were communal gnomes and I didn’t really know whose details to give her. Instead, I offered to relay her proposal.

She gave me the details and I scribbled them down on paper Sofia handed me.

“Thanks, Madison. I’ll be in touch.”

I hung up and stared blankly at Sofia. “Some agency wants to use the gnomes to promote garden products.”

Sofia laughed. It’s what I would’ve done if it hadn’t seemed quite so … bizarre. I drifted back to my desk and dialed Dot.

Anna answered and I was passed along to her grandmother.

“Dot, I need you to set up a street meeting.”

“Okay, dear. Tomorrow night suit you?”

“That’d be great.”

*

The next night I parked in Simon’s driveway. A crowd had gathered on his stone-paved porch, with a few more people just inside the door.

I climbed out of my car and was almost mowed down by Martin Sinclair, who seemed to be leaving the party early.

“Not coming to the meeting, Martin?”

He whipped around to face me. “I thought it was for something important, but Dot just told me you’d requested it. I don’t have time for whatever fool notion has taken your fancy this time,” he said, sneering.

I frowned. Something had changed. The man was as arrogant as always and he’d baited me, but for some reason, I wasn’t remotely interested in separating him from his testicles. What was that about? I did, however, remember Rafaella’s entreaty to help save Liz from herself. I’d never met Liz but I had a pang of sympathy for her and for Beverley. No wonder Beverley was consumed by bitterness.

“I know about your affair with Liz,” I said calmly. Did my interference make me as arrogant as him? The thing was, it didn’t matter. Because, despite knowing I’d probably regret this later, I cared enough to interfere.

His face twisted. “I knew that woman couldn’t be trusted to keep her mouth shut.”

“I’ve never met her.” I shrugged. “You might want to have a look at the clues you’ve been dropping yourself. I’m not the only one who’s picked up on them. Beverley seems to have worked out half the story.”

He huffed and puffed as if he’d like to blow me down. But then he smiled. “You think you’re clever? You won’t be so smug when you figure out who smashed those precious gnomes of yours.”

My eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Simon.” Martin relaxed a little more and rocked back on his heels. “I saw the way you looked at him the night of the damn-fool party. Next time you’re making goo-goo eyes at each other, ask him about his ongoing fight with his father-in-law. Ask him how his wife died. Ask him who he blames. Then you’ll see why he smashed the gnomes at Gerald’s house then his own. And when you’ve finished with your little inquiry, keep your obnoxious nose out of my business.”

He stormed away and I was left speechless.

Feeling a little numb, I collected myself and checked I had the paperwork Madison had faxed me. Then I walked through Simon’s gate to the meeting. Anna came running out of nowhere and launched herself at my legs. I leaned down and ruffled her hair, catching myself smiling.

What had he meant, how Simon’s wife died? Martin was clearly missing more marbles than Gerald.
As if
Simon could do something like smash a gnome—smash anything!

I walked the remaining steps with her small hand in mine. It felt good. Davo was waiting at the porch, elbow lifted above his head and resting on a timber post. He winked and made a simultaneous clicking sound with his mouth. Someone
really
needed to give that boy some instruction. Remembering my altercation with his father not five minutes before, I knew he wouldn’t be getting that help from home.

“Heya, boss chick. Got any work for me?”

“Er … no.” Anna continued to swing our joined hands.

“Shame, but good to see ya, anyways.” He winked again, with the same strange sound, and swaggered off.

Anna pulled down on my hand. “Tobi, have a cup of tea. Valentina bringed three teapots. She let me pick them. I picked the cat one and the boat one and the yellow one.”

I let her lead me to a table set up with cups and saucers, sugar and milk, and three teapots. Still ruffled by Martin’s comments, I actually wanted tea for the first time in my life. I claimed a cup and saucer and was deliberating over the pots when I heard a deep voice in my ear.

“I’d avoid the cat pot, if I were you. It’s Lapsang Souchong. Not for the uninitiated.”

Simon’s voice sent shivers along my spine and down to my toes. I turned to him. “A teapot in the shape of a cat wouldn’t be my first choice at the best of times.”

“Try the yellow pot. It’s Earl Grey.” His midnight-blue gaze roamed my face and I felt its touch, gentle yet stimulating. There was no way this man had smashed those gnomes. I might not know everything about him, but I knew that. He had more nobility in his left pinkie than most people had in their entire body. But Martin’s words still niggled and I needed to ask questions about the rest of the story and hoped he wouldn’t hate me for prying.

“Simon, there’s something I want to ask you.” I poured from the yellow pot, needing to do something with my hands to cover my nerves.

“Okay.” He smiled, confident and sexy.

“Not here.” I stirred in sugar. “Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure. The deli at midday?”

I lifted the cup to my lips and avoided his eyes. “I’ll be there.”

He grabbed my free hand and gave it a quick squeeze before moving back to talk to Lukas.

Dot came over and checked I had a tea before she moved everyone into the lounge room. Dining chairs had been added for extra seating and it seemed the whole street had turned up—except Martin and Gerald. Rafaella gave me a little wave and whispered something to the petite woman beside her. The other woman—I assumed it was Liz—nodded then waved to me as well.

On one lounge, Valentina, wearing her Granny Clampett blue cardigan, sat bedside Jazlyn—who looked even more pregnant since I’d seen her two days before. Beverley and Ethel sat side by side on another lounge, and Dot scooted Cosmo and Anna down the hallway, probably to play in Anna’s room. The boys from the corner house took seats on the row of dining chairs, bedside Simon, who leaned over to whisper something to Pedro before they both broke out laughing.

Dot rushed back in and took an armchair, then everyone went quiet.

I cleared my throat. “Thanks for coming. I had a call yesterday that concerns the whole street and I wanted to speak to you all at once about it.”

My gaze landed on Simon and he winked. In contrast to Davo’s, Simon’s wink gave me goose bumps. I waited until I got my breath back, then I continued.

“Madison Quintana from Quintana and Associates wants to use the Los Alamos Court gnomes in advertising for Gardens, Gardens, Gardens. She asked me to put her in contact with the person who owned them, but I explained they were gnomads.”

Everybody laughed.

“So I have the paperwork here. The offer is a good one, but by the time it’s split between everyone, no one will be rich.”

“Better than a poke in the eye with a blunt stick,” Valentina called out.

More laughing. Over the next hour, we hammered out issues such as was the money to be split equally between people or households—they decided people, including Anna and Cosmo—and who’d be signatory to the contract—they chose Valentina.

By the time we finished, I had a strange sense of belonging in some small way to this group of people. Not really comfortable with the sensation, I made my farewells and left.

*

I arrived at the Green Chile Deli five minutes late to meet Simon. Tardiness in all forms had always been abhorrent to me but I’d driven round the block eight times, trying to find the right words to ask such intensely personal questions. I hadn’t found them.

Simon was waiting outside, leaning against the wall, hands in pockets. He’d seen me before I’d seen him and he tracked my progress with a lazy, sensual smile as I locked my car and wove through the parking lot.

When I reached him, he held out a hand, still leaning back against the wall.

“C’mere,” he murmured.

I let him draw me close until I rested my full weight against the length of his body. His thighs supported mine and I pressed against the chest I’d touched only days earlier on my couch. I could feel his heartbeat through our clothes—and it was racing almost as fast as mine.

“I wanted to do this so badly last night,” he whispered against my mouth. “But I didn’t think you’d be comfortable in front of the whole street.”

He had that right. And I knew if I stopped to think right now I wouldn’t be comfortable with this sort of display in front of a crowd of shoppers either. But who could think with Simon Hanson chest to chest, hips to hips?

He released my fingers and settled his linked hands at the small of my back, adding a touch more pressure to the contact of our hips. I breathed a sigh at the exquisite tingling in all my nerve endings and Simon lowered his mouth to mine.

The kiss itself was quick and innocent, merely a brushing of lips, but the effect was erotic dynamite.

I leaned forward for more, but he straightened, taking me with him, and turned us for the door … at which point I realized I was acting like the personification of “yield”. Had I no shame?

It was Simon and his effect—when he’d held out his hand it was as if I’d turned into a well-trained puppy. Without trying, this man had power over me.

I stopped walking and had trouble drawing breath.

I’d lost executive command over myself.

The thing I’d feared all my life had happened—an external locus of control had appeared. No longer a threat—it was here whether I liked it or not. Now the only question was, what would I do about it?