Down and Out in Flamingo Beach (16 page)

He yanked on her zipper, a not-so-subtle sign that he wanted her out of her clothing. Joya pulled the dress over her head and tossed it on the floor.

“Nice thong panties,” Derek commented as Joya prepared to strip them off. “Come here, you.”

She came toward him in slow motion, working it and giving it all she had.

He had her off her feet in two seconds and on her back in bed. He was still wearing his pants when he straddled her. Joya opened Derek's zipper and reached inside his underpants. He groaned and removed a square package from his pocket, tossing the condom on the pillow.

Joya took him into her mouth, almost inhaling him. A deep guttural sound ripped from Derek's throat. His eyes were wide open but glazed over. And as she continued to work on him he left the world of reality behind.

She needed to get there with him. Joya shifted position. She felt the nip of teeth as he pushed the scrap of lace covering her pubis away. The tip of Derek's tongue circled and plunged. Joya moaned and her body felt ripe and heavy.

“I want you to love me,” she said.

“I'm already doing that,” he teased.

“I want you inside me.”

Derek took the condom from the pillow where he had placed it. “Help me to get this on.”

She helped him roll the condom on. By then they were both close to exploding. She eased herself on top of him and he entered her slowly. They began a rhythmical dance. He touched her and she touched him back, matching each other move for move, taking and giving pleasure.

Ankles firmly locked in place, their breathing synchronized. And as Derek gave a final thrust, in a defining moment of clarity Joya came to realize that Derek Morse had firmly implanted himself under her skin.

“M
iss Joya, you think I could talk to you for a minute?”

“What is it, Portia?”

Joya looked up from wiping down one of the newly built shelves in the showroom to see the student hovering. She'd been trying to get organized, but she was acutely aware of Derek halfway up a ladder replacing an electrical fixture. His proximity made her all jittery inside.

“Deborah asked me to ask you if she can get her job back. You said now we're busy we might need additional help so I'm asking. She knows the ropes.”

“Forget it. There is no way I'm hiring her back.”

“She'll work hard. She promised.”

Joya caught Derek's almost imperceptible shake of his head and tried not to smile. She didn't need reminding. It would be a cold day in Flamingo Beach before she would rehire that lazy woman.

“Don't forget I might be leaving to go away to school. You'll need somebody,” Portia whined.

“I'm sure I'll find somebody. I'll run an ad in the newspaper or put a sign out front.”

Portia looked visibly put out but she went off to help a customer who'd just entered.

It was almost two weeks since Quen and Chere's wedding and the renovations were almost completed. There were only a few final touches and they would be done soon. Derek, rather than delegating to one of his men, had stayed on to work on them himself.

Even Granny J loved what he'd done. She was feeling much better and liked roaming around the homey interior, admiring the shiny new cash register and credit-card-processing machine. She would slowly climb the stairs to the loft and stand looking down on the colorful collage of quilts on display. And she kept singing Derek's praises.

With a centennial fast approaching, the town was attracting more and more tourists. And that meant an increase in revenue for Joya's Quilts. Tourists were literally coming in droves to Flamingo Beach. And all the hotels were overbooked. Several residents, seeing a money-making opportunity, were sprucing up their houses to turn them into bed and breakfasts. Those less enterprising slapped on coats of paint and concentrated on their gardens.

Flamingos had sprung up all over town. Joya, with Chet's help, had managed to get one erected on their joint property line. Granny J had made the bird a quilted cape and hood in a vivid lime green and mocha, and Chet and Harley had added a basket filled with flowers that the flamingo carried in its beak. That bird and its wild outfit was driving business into both of their stores. Derek named the flamingo Big Bird from the Hood.

“You're about to get visitors,” Derek called from his perch up above.

“As long as they're here to spend money,” Joya muttered back.

“Not those two.”

“Uh-oh.”

Joya glanced through the newly installed picture windows to see Lionel and Greg hurrying up the walkway.

“I'll be close by,” Derek reminded her, taking a seat on the top rung of the ladder. “You stay cool.”

She blew him a kiss. Since the night of the wedding they'd seen each other practically every day during work and off the premises. They'd concluded they were good in the bedroom and good at working out problems. Joya had come to rely on Derek for emotional support. She'd already discussed with him her need to find a job. Granny J would be chomping at the bit to run the show again—she already was.

Joya met Lionel and Greg at the front door.

“Hey guys, what's up?” she asked, noting their serious faces.

“We may have a lead,” Greg said. “What's with the police car?” Granny J called in a sleepy voice. She'd fallen asleep on the front porch. “Do we have a problem?”

“No problem, Gran.”

The old lady slowly made her way inside. “Then why are you here?” she asked the two officers.

“Maybe we should go into the office,” Joya suggested, mindful of the few customers browsing. She led the way to the room that had once been used for inventory but now was an office, complete with seating, computer and printer.

Joya made sure Granny J was off her feet before waving the men into chairs.

“Okay, so what's up?”

“Darnell came to see us,” Greg said. “He had quite the story to tell.”

“Darnell who used to spend most of his time in front of the liquor store hitting everyone up for fifty cents to buy his pint?”

“That Darnell,” Lionel said solemnly.

“What did Darnell have to say?” Gran asked. “He wasn't always a drunk, only took to drinking after he lost his wife to breast cancer. Up until then he was a sensible man.”

“He said that someone is paying the gangs to make trouble for you.” This came from Lionel.

Joya's eyebrows rose. “Flamingo Beach has gangs?”

“Things are changing. They come in from Pelican Island and the surrounding towns.”

“And why would they target a quilt store of all places, when there are so many other stores to choose from?”

“It's not the quilt store, but the owner,” Greg said patiently.

“But my grandmother's a popular woman.”

“I am,” Granny J huffed. “There's not a family in this town I don't know except for the newcomers moving in.”

“But you aren't,” Greg said bluntly. “You returned to town and for someone that's a threat. Maybe you're dating someone somebody else wants.”

“I'm not dating anyone.”

Lionel jutted a finger in the direction of the outer room. “What about him?”

“Derek? He and I are just good friends.”

“That's not what's rumored. Anyway, we're going to be on the lookout for gangs in the general area. Be sure to lock up carefully and put on your security alarm when you go out.”

Joya wanted to tell Lionel not to poke his nose in her business. But these two were pretty much the only game in town. Given the town's size you had to depend on them for everything and she didn't need to alienate them.

She thanked both police officers and escorted them to the door, promising to be especially vigilant for large groups of young people roaming in the area or entering the store. Granny J trailed her.

As she shut the door firmly behind them she heard Granny J saying to Derek, “Well I never. Fancy those two suggesting that my Joya moved in on someone's man, and that's why we're having the trouble we have.”

“Did they say that now?” Derek drawled, still up on his ladder. “And who would that man be?”

Granny J drew her tiny body up so that instead of five feet nothing she looked like a six-foot Amazon. She wagged a finger at Derek. “My granddaughter is saving herself for someone special and I know just the man. He's a doctor and cute to boot. He's going to be taking her out soon.”

“Granny J!” Joya called, charging back into the room in time to see the tense expression on Derek's face.

“Granny J nothing. Get on the phone and call up Dr. Ben. He's expecting to hear from you.” She gave Derek a sly smile.

Joya noticed the tightness around Derek's mouth. Maybe she was a fool. But she was happy with the way things were going between them. She didn't see the need to bring another man into the mix.

 

“That woman telephoned you,” Nana Belle shouted from her room the minute Derek let himself in the front door.

“What woman?” Derek called back, still irritated by the suggestion that Joya might be playing him. He had a sneaking suspicion he already knew who was on the other end of the line.

“The one chasing you. That Sheena, the neighborhood ho.”

Derek exhaled a loud breath. Sheena had called at least ten times since he'd danced with her at the wedding. She'd wanted to go out, but he kept making excuses.

“Fine, I'll call her back. You saved the number?”

“Mari has it written down somewhere.”

Derek continued through the house stopping in each room to admire his handiwork. There was painting and some electrical work left to be done, plus the yard needed landscaping. He had too much on his plate at the moment and would probably pay a couple of the guys to finish up. Those waterfront villas would soon demand all of his attention.

The phone rang, and someone picked up.

“Phone for you, Derek,” Mari yelled.

Hmmm. Most people he wanted to talk to called him on his cell phone. He hoped it wasn't Sheena again.

He waited to get to his room to pick up.

“Hello.”

“Hey, how come you haven't called me back?”

“Who is this?” The female voice sounded familiar. “Sheena.”

“I just walked in,” he said. “Nana just gave me your message.”

“Watcha doing tonight?”

“Painting a room.”

“There's a good movie on at the theater.”

He decided to play with her. “You going?”

“Only if you're coming along.”

“I'm busy, Sheena.”

“What is it? You don't like me or what?”

“Just busy.”

“No you like that woman better, and she don't even like you.”

“What woman?”

“That stewardess. The one running her granny's shop. You know what she said about you?”

“I'm not sure I want to hear.”

Sheena proceeded to tell him anyway. Derek listened because he was too polite to hang up on her. He wondered if she was making it up. She was not painting a very pretty picture of a woman he liked, but was, in fact, confirming his first impressions of Joya. He'd first thought her shallow, superficial and self-centered.

“And then she said you were nothing more than a glorified handyman, but she would play you until the work on her grandmother's store got done. She's using you.”

Derek had heard enough. “Goodbye, Sheena.” He hung up and threw himself on the bed. He had a lot to think about. Maybe he should pull the plug on the friendship right now.

He and Joya had been moving slowly toward a relationship. They'd been getting to know each other, and he'd thought they connected on a number of different levels. He needed to talk to someone who'd known Joya when she was married to Quen. Preston Shore might be a good choice.

He thought about the letter his old company had sent him inviting him back. He should give a call to follow up. Maybe tomorrow. And tomorrow he would call Rowan James and set up lunch. He'd quite liked the man and thought they might work well together.

What he needed was a run to clear his head, followed by a long, cold shower. Afterward he'd call Preston to see if he would join him for a quick beer. It was really eating him up that the woman he'd come to like and admire might have her own agenda.

After pushing himself to the limits, Derek limped back to the house. He wasn't motivated to do much now, not the painting that needed doing, or the floors in the dining room that needed refinishing. He was done. Emotionally drained. Burned.

He gave a quick call to Preston.

“Hey guy, something wrong?” his boss and friend asked as soon as he picked up.

“I'm heading for the Haul Out. Want to come?”

“I'm in for the night.”

“Just a quick one,” Derek wheedled. “I'll walk. Meet you there.”

“This is going to cost you. My wife's going to hand me my head on a plate.”

They agreed to meet in twenty minutes.

Derek was tying the laces on his sneakers when Nana called to him.

“Where you going, boy?”

“Out.”

“You not planning on getting drunk and coming back here loud and rowdy?”

“Of course not, Nana.”

Nana Belle could be clairvoyant at times.

Needing time to think, Derek took the long way to the Haul Out. If what Sheena said was true, he should do the smart thing and put distance between himself and Joya. He was no one's plaything. It had never occurred to him that Joya might be using him for sex and to get her grandmother's store finished.

Too late. He was already involved. He'd developed feelings for the woman.

By the time he got to the bar he'd worked up a good head of steam. He elbowed his way through the crowded entrance, and navigated his way around the patrons bellying up to the bar. No sign of Preston so far. Derek ordered two beers on tap and took them with him to the side of the room where the regulars were watching three men and a woman play pool. He set one of the glasses down on a crowded table and tossed half his beer down in one easy swallow. Where the hell was Preston?

Derek gave it another couple of minutes before sucking down the other beer. He went back to the bar to replenish both glasses.

A woman who looked somewhat familiar sidled up to him.

“How about buying me a drink?” she said.