Double the Heat (17 page)

Read Double the Heat Online

Authors: Lori Foster,Deirdre Martin,Elizabeth Bevarly,Christie Ridgway

Tags: #Erotic Stories; American, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Mate Selection, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Short Stories

BOOK: Double the Heat
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“Nope.”
“Then don’t wear them around me.”
“Deal. Now shut up and kiss me.”
 
 
 
“Do
you don’t think it was a whore-y thing to do?”
Lennie was sitting at the bar at the Hart, telling Christie about her day with Sebastian. Her aunt wouldn’t be showing up for another forty minutes or so, so she didn’t have to worry about any of her buddies/spies reporting back to her.
“What, suggesting you guys hook up?”
Jimmy O’Brien looked up quizzically from the other end of the bar.
“Could you lower your voice, please?” Lennie quietly implored her friend.
“Sorry.” Christie leaned over the bar. “I don’t think it was whore-y. Why should guys be the ones to make all the moves? And he made out with you, didn’t he? Said you guys are going out now?”
“Yup. He said he wanted to ‘savor’ it.”
Christie looked envious. “That’s really romantic.”
“I never thought this would happen—you know, come to New York and bam! Find a great guy, and a really hot one at that.”
“Torture me even more, why don’t you?”
“Sorry.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Well, he wanted to get together tomorrow night, but I told him no way, unless he wants to come over and watch
Project Runway
with me and Aunt Mary.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he’d love that.”
Lennie’s eyes cut to Jimmy O’Brien, who quickly looked away. Clearly the old man had bat hearing. Then again, it was kind of quiet right now. “Eavesdropping is impolite, you know.”
Jimmy looked offended as he moved closer. “Now why would you ever think I’d care about what you two are yammering about?”
“Because you’re one of the biggest gossips in here,” said Christie. “All cops are—especially male cops.”
“How’s it goin’ at the firehouse?” Jimmy shot back. “The lot of you still sitting on your arses most of the day eating donuts?”
He cast a final glare at Christie and went to tend to two new customers who’d parked themselves at the other end of the bar.
Lennie glanced toward the dining room. Sitting at a small table for two across from Mrs. O’Brien was a striking young woman, her long, dark brown hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her face impeccably made up. Lennie’s eyes were drawn immediately to the vanilla/ navy single-breasted, two-button jacket the woman was wearing. It was gorgeous. “Who’s that with Mrs. O’Brien?” she asked Christie, tipping her head discreetly in the direction of the table.
“Sinead O’Brien, one of the O’Briens’ daughters. She’s an attorney. Kind of a workaholic, from what I hear. Going through a horrible, painful divorce. She’s been coming in here a lot lately. It probably makes things a lot less painful to spend time with her family, you know? She and Quinn talk a lot.”
“Is she nice?”
“I don’t really know her, but the few times I’ve talked to her, she seemed nice. Kinda quiet and intense.”
“God, look at that gorgeous jacket she’s wearing.”
“Is it gorgeous?”
Lennie turned back to her. “You don’t think it’s gorgeous?”
“Lennie, it just looks like a jacket to me.”
“You have no fashion sense. I’m going to take you shopping soon, okay?”
“Be my guest.”
Lennie slid off her stool. “I’ve got to go talk to Sinead.”
“Wait! You didn’t tell me when you’re seeing your Russian lover boy again!”
“Don’t know. But I’ll keep you posted.”
 
 
Lennie
walked over to the table where Mrs. O’Brien and Sinead sat. Mrs. O’Brien’s face lit up when she saw her.
“Lennie! How are you?”
“I’m doing really well, Mrs. O’Brien.” She smiled at Sinead, extending a hand. “I’m Lennie Buckley. Mary Colgan’s niece?”
Sinead looked to her mother for clarification.
“The one with the parrot,” Mrs. O’Brien said.
“Your bingo friend,” said Sinead.
“Yes, that’s right.”
Sinead smiled at Lennie. “I’m Sinead O’Brien. Nice to meet you.”
Lennie fought the impulse to reach out and feel the fabric of Sinead’s jacket without asking. “I’m a fashion design student at FIT. I couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous your jacket is.”
“Oh.” Sinead seemed momentarily surprised, then smiled. “Thank you.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know who designed it, would you?”
“It’s a Stella McCartney.”
Lennie worshipped Stella McCartney—not that any of her clothing was available in Saranac Lake, and not that Lennie could ever afford a single article of Stella-designed clothing. But her designs were beautiful; unique, very feminine, with careful attention paid to small details.
“I know this is going to sound weird,” said Lennie, “but would you mind if I just rubbed one of the lapels between my fingers to feel the fabric?”
“No, go ahead.”
Mrs. O’Brien rose. “You girls talk clothing. I should be getting back to the kitchen.” She kissed Sinead’s cheek. “Don’t stay up to all hours of the night working, please.”
Sinead rolled her eyes. “I won’t.”
Lennie reached out, tentatively feeling the fabric. Cotton silk. “It’s really beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Maybe it was forward, but Lennie asked, “Do you wear a lot of designer clothing?”
“I do,” said Sinead, not looking the least bit offended. “I’m an attorney, so I’m dressed up all the time.”
“Who do you like?”
“I wear a lot of Ann Taylor. Boring, I know. That’s why I bought the jacket: it’s professional-looking, but just a little offbeat. I’m trying to liven things up a bit.”
Lennie bit her lip. “Would you ever—I mean—if I designed something that I thought might look good on you, would you be willing to take a look? No pressure, I mean—”
“I would love to,” Sinead said warmly.
Lennie almost shot to the ceiling with excitement. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Oh, thank you so much.” Lennie had to rein herself in lest she throw her arms around Sinead’s neck and give her a big kiss. Yes, she loved designing funky clothes and putting offbeat combinations of clothing together, but she also wanted to design classic clothing, stuff women could wear to work. Professional but not prissy. Professional yet feminine.
“I probably should get going,” said Lennie, not wanting to make a pest of herself. “I have a lot of studying to do. How can I reach you if I come up with something for you?”
Sinead handed her a business card. “Here you go.”
“Thanks again,” Lennie gushed.
“Not a problem. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” Sinead opened her laptop. “ ’Bye, now.”
“ ’Bye.”
Giddy with excitement, Lennie returned to the bar, told Christie her good news, and then went home to study. Her mother always said that when you’re doing what you were meant to do with your life, everything falls into place. Lennie had been skeptical, but not anymore. She was right where she was supposed to be.
 
“Don’t
think I don’t know what you’re up to.”
Aunt Mary’s ominous statement to Lennie came during a commercial break as they sat together on the couch, watching
Project Runway.
Her aunt had been giving her the hairy eyeball all night. Lennie wasn’t dumb; she knew it had to do with Sebastian. She’d actually been waiting to see when her aunt would bring it up.
Why now,
Lennie thought.
She’s still going to be torturing me about it when the commercials are done, dammit.
Lennie stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “What am I up to?”
“The Russky. I know you saw him on Sunday. Jimmy O’Brien told me. And I heard you on the phone with him last night.”
Lennie was indignant. “Excuse me, were you listening outside my bedroom door?”
“Just passing by on my way to the bathroom,” her aunt insisted defensively.
Jimmy O’Brien. Didn’t any of those people at the bar have anything better to do than gossip and tattle on others? It was amazing. The next time Lennie saw him, she was going to give him a tongue-lashing he would never forget.
Lennie decided she’d try the gentle approach. “Aunt Mary, you don’t even know Sebastian. He’s a great guy.”
Her aunt looked her dead in the eye. “You came here to study, Leonora. Not go floozing around with some hockey player.”
Leonora. God, she hated that name. Floozing around? It sounded like her aunt was trapped in a bad 1930s movie.
“I’m not floozing around. I’m just dating him.”
“You just got here!”
“I know—and so did he! We’re exploring things together.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you are.”
Lennie tried to keep her anger in check. “I resent what you’re insinuating.”
“I was young once. I know how it goes.”
Just because you had to get married doesn’t mean I will,
Lennie thought. Her aunt probably didn’t even know she knew the story behind her wedding.
“It’s not like that.”
“Don’t like him,” her aunt insisted stubbornly.
“Don’t know him,” Lennie returned. She huffed in frustration. “Why don’t we have him over for dinner on Friday night? That way you’ll get to know him.”
“You know I don’t like to cook.”
“Then I’ll cook,” Lennie offered. Why did Aunt Mary have to make everything so difficult?
“Hmm.” Her aunt looked suspicious.
“Look, I’m sure Sebastian would like to get to know you better too.”
“And Rudy?”
“Of course.”
“Hmm,” her aunt said again.
“Listen, if we have him over for dinner, I promise I’ll make those hats for Rudy you asked me to make.”
Her aunt brightened. “Really?”
“Yes.”
Last week, her aunt has asked her if she might “whip up” some hats for Rudy: a sailor’s cap, a baseball cap, and a Greek fisherman’s cap. Lennie had put her off. Sewing doll-sized items was extremely difficult. Still, if it would make her aunt more accepting of Sebastian, then she would make hats for a parrot, in between classes. And seeing Sebastian. And trying to come up with something that might interest Sinead. She was confident she could handle it all.
“All right, he can come over,” Aunt Mary capitulated. “But no funny stuff.”
“No funny stuff,” Lennie agreed, chuckling. God, Aunt Mary was nuts. But as she had told Sebastian, she had a good heart, and that good heart was letting her live rent-free while she went to FIT. Having Seb over would be her ticket to peace and quiet at home. She’d call him tomorrow and invite him.
Six
 
“I’m surprised. I thought we were going to wait a bit on this.”
“I told you: this should help get her off our tails.”
Sebastian’s voice was low as Lennie ushered him into her aunt’s apartment. He’d been shocked when she’d called and invited him to dinner, but jumped at the chance.
He’d brought two bouquets of flowers: one for Lennie and one for Lennie’s aunt, who was, thankfully, still in her room “getting ready.” Lennie was touched. “You’re so sweet. She’s going to love this.”
“Good.”
Sebastian wasn’t at all nervous about breaking bread with Lennie and her aunt. He knew he was a nice guy; but he also felt that deep down, it really wasn’t Lennie’s aunt’s business if they were going out. Lennie was a woman leading her own life, not some flighty teenage girl who needed to be protected. He had a feeling that her aunt’s ill will toward him might have more to do with xenophobia than anything else. Hopefully, he could set that straight.
Lennie glanced behind her, then quickly planted a hard kiss on his mouth. “I missed you this week.”
“Me too.” It felt like an eternity since he’d seen her. He had to admit he was smitten, which was slightly worrisome. He’d never before experienced such intense feelings so quickly.
He took in what she was wearing: ripped jeans, black high-top sneakers, a red-and-black striped long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Don’t say a word about the jeans,” Lennie warned affectionately. “Believe it or not, they’re in style.”
“You look about sixteen. It’s a little disconcerting.”
He was about to kiss her softly when Lennie’s aunt appeared in the living room, Rudy on her left shoulder.
“Hello,” she said, a trace of distrust in her voice.
Sebastian smiled, holding out his hand. “Hello. Nice to see you.” He held out the remaining bouquet in his hand. “For you.”

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