For Your Love (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lynne was crazy about Haywood. She was thrilled that he was doing so well with the title searches. Perhaps he’d found his niche, after all. Basically, all he had needed was to get away from his mother.

The use of clichés drove Lynne crazy and though she, too, was guilty of using them from time to time, she tried to refrain from doing so. However, she discovered one night that she did in fact live in a small world and that what one person did often affected others.

In the afterglow of their lovemaking Lynne was leaning against Haywood’s chest. She loved these tender, intimate moments with him. They were a far cry from the
wham-bam-thank you, ma’am
scenarios she’d experienced with some guys.

“Hon, you’re doing a fantastic job with the title searches,” she casually mentioned.

“Really?” he looked at her with surprise.

“You sound surprised as if you expected to do a lousy job.”

“Nah. It’s not that. I just wanted to please you.” He kissed the tip of her upturned nose.

“You only wanted to please little ole me?” she teased.

“I hated the thought of having to go back to boring detective work again.”

“Boring? I thought it was exciting to be a private investigator like the fictitious Sam Spade.”

“The job I finished was nothing compared to the stuff Sam Spade did.”

“What kind of job was it?” her curiosity now aroused.

“I guess I can talk about it now.”

“I won’t tell. My lips are sealed,” she said making a zipper motion with her hand across her mouth.

“You know the Mercedes Dealership in town?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“The guy who owned it had me follow his wife. He thought she was cheating on him.”

“Was she?”

“If she was, I couldn’t detect it.”

Suddenly, Lynne sat upright.

“What’s the matter?” Haywood asked, concerned.

“It all makes sense now.”

“What does?” He was totally lost and had no idea what she was talking about.

“Remember when we saw Carla and her husband, Martin, in the restaurant?” she asked waiting for him to catch up to her.

“Yes.”

“You thought you’d seen him some place, but couldn’t place him?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, he works at the dealership.” Lynne said, sweeping hair from his eyes. “You must have seen him when you were there.”

“Yeah. That’s very possible.”

“It makes sense,” Lynne said, kissing the top of his head.

“Say, didn’t you mention that Martin was cheating on Carla?” Haywood asked, his eyes twinkling.

“Yes. Hey, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Lynne replied grabbing on to his train of thought.

“If I were a betting man, I’d say your friend’s husband is having an affair with his boss’s wife. Or was. I couldn’t find any evidence to prove it”

“Whatever, it’s certainly one helluva coincidence. I guess it’s a small world after all.”

“Are you going to tell Carla?” Haywood asked.

“I don’t think it much matters at this point.”

“Why?”

“’Cause she and Martin are on the verge of getting back together and I don’t want to screw things up for her.”

“They were separated?”

“Only sexually,” she said stretching. Haywood’s groin tightened as her dusky nipples brushed his chest. He ran his hand over the silken skin of her bottom. He adored her ass.

“And she wants him back? I can’t believe she’s happy with him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno. I just don’t like a guy who cheats on his wife. She can do better.” He nuzzled Lynne’s neck. The smell of
her
always drove him crazy. He could feel his cock stirring.

“You hardly know him, but I do and wholeheartedly agree with you. He treats Carla like crap.”

“The man’s a fool, plain and simple.” Haywood nibbled on her ear as his fingers sought out her damp entrance. He plucked playfully on her clit and inserted two fingers slowly, curving them upward against the wall of her vagina.

Lynne sighed, spreading her legs. “You ever cheat on me, I’ll break both your kneecaps.” As soon as the words left her lips, she was sorry. Had she sounded a little too possessive?

Relief washed over her as Haywood pulled her under him and gently ran his hand down the side of her face. Staring directly into her eyes, he said, “I’d never treat you like crap. Nor would I ever cheat on you. I love you way too much to risk losing you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” As he slid long and hard into her, he punctuated those beautiful words with a kiss that would have knocked her socks off had she been wearing any.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Carla had just sat down to join Martin at the dinner table when his cell phone rang. He grabbed it out of his shirt breast pocket and glanced at the caller ID. The color drained from his face. From the onset of his affair with Heather, one of the cardinal rules was for neither of them to call the other at home. Therefore, if Heather was calling now, something had to be terribly wrong—the kind of wrong he didn’t want to know about. He looked at Carla. “Gotta take this,” was all he said before rushing from the room.

Suspecting the call was from Martin’s bimbo pricked the small bubble of hope that Carla had since the renewal of their relationship. Yet, somehow, she wasn’t surprised. It figured. Just when things were looking good, crappy things always happened. That was why she always took an umbrella to every parade she attended.

She only wished she could be a fly on the den wall and be able to hear, at least, Martin’s side of the conversation. She had to know if he intended to continue his affair or not. In her heart, she’d hoped he’d love her again as completely as he once had.

“Why are you calling me at home?” Martin whispered, trying to keep the apprehension out of his voice.

“I need to see you.”

“Tonight? Can’t you masturbate or something?”

“This isn’t about sex,” Heather said through clenched teeth.

“Then what’s so important that can’t wait for tomorrow?”

“I think Orson knows.”

Martin felt winded as if he’d been kicked in the chest. When he tried to speak, he began to sputter and choke.

“Are you okay, Martin?” Carla called from the kitchen. “Do you need some water?”

“I’m fine,” he managed to say, trying to sound as if he were.

“Was that the Goodyear Blimp?” Heather asked.

Martin was way too upset to give Heather an update on Carla’s weight loss. Finally he managed to squeak, “About us?”

“No, my cousin, Gertrude.
Of course, us
.”

“I thought you told me he was clueless.”

“I’m not too sure anymore. Look, I can’t talk now, either. Meet me at the Rendezvous Club in an hour,” she said, naming a small nightclub they sometimes met for Happy Hour.

“I can’t. There’s no rational excuse I can give Carla. It has to be tomorrow,” Martin replied, feeling the food he’d already eaten rising slowly into his throat.

“Okay. Be at the library at 12:30 tomorrow.”

Before he could reply, she’d broken the connection. Martin was already worried about what he’d do after he got canned.

His face was still devoid of all color when he returned to the kitchen. It didn’t go unnoticed by Carla who asked, “Is everything okay, Martin?”

“Yeah—sure. Just an unhappy customer.”

Carla couldn’t help raising her eyebrows at that bold lie, but didn’t say anything. She had no desire to ruin the possibility that the phone call from his bimbo was made out of desperation and he’d just reminded her that they were through, ordering her not to call him anymore. Hopeful that this was the case, she came behind Martin, who had collapsed on the couch, and began to massage his tense shoulders. He pushed her away and went into the bedroom.

Much to her chagrin, he’d remained mum about the phone call. Her curiosity was driving her crazy. She had to know if her fears had any substance. It would be ironic if she lost him at this point, after everything she’d put herself through to get back into shape. Especially now, when she was so close and was about to give him her ultimatum. What good would that do if he didn’t care? She was way too afraid of his answer to ask, and Martin went to bed without saying another word.

Carla sat down on the couch. Blondie got up from her bed and sat down in front of her. Carla patted her head and scratched behind her ears as she thought about her situation. A beat later, the tears that had been gathering in her eyes slowly began to slip down her cheeks.

She couldn’t fool herself any longer. She wasn’t happy with Martin. Not the way things were now. Her parade was being rained on again—big time.

For a fleeting moment her heart clenched as she thought of Richard and his terse voice mails just before Christmas. But she quickly closed that thought down. She felt a surge of anger. How
dare
Martin treat her like this? Well, things were going to change. Soon, when she became the fully reconstructed Carla, Martin was going to fall on his knees and beg her forgiveness and then, she’d have it all.

* * *

Martin had been waiting in the parking lot at the library for nearly fifteen minutes before Heather pulled into the spot next to him. He got out of the car and walked over to her driver side window as she rolled it down.

“What’s going on?” he immediately asked.

“We
can’t
speak here,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

Martin began to protest, but his eyes riveted themselves to her ample cleavage and felt his head bob up and down in agreement. Following her out of the parking lot, Martin was already rationalizing his actions away. He was only human. It wouldn’t be normal for him to turn away such temptation.

The Fairfield Inn on N. Scottsdale Rd. was located in a suburban setting. The rooms were spacious and furnished tastefully with lots of seating and flat screen TVs—not that Martin and Heather even noticed. What they did partake of was the mini bar and king-sized bed. The bathroom shower was large enough for two, which they found useful, as well. What they liked best about the place, aside from its proximity to the showroom, was its privacy.

The minute the hotel room door closed tightly behind them, Martin again asked her why she thought Orson knew about them.

“You should hang up your suit jacket,” Heather said as she slipped out of her short shift and stood in sheer peach-colored silk underthings.

She got on the bed and patted the spot next to her. His eyes riveted to her chest as she arched her back like a lioness stretching. He obeyed without removing his eyes from their target.

As she spoke, she ran her hands down his body before unloosening his tie and slipping it off his neck. “He didn’t say anything specific to me, but I know he knows.”

“How? What are you a mind reader now? Or do you read tea leaves?”

“Stop being so flippant.” She unbuttoned his shirt and started on his belt. “A woman knows her own husband,” she said as she unzipped his slacks and pulled them off like a magician pulling the tablecloth from under dishes. “It’s the subtle things he says and does,” she lightly stroked the inside of his thigh causing him to gasp.

“Really?” That was punctuated with a groan as her hand became more urgent.

“Yeah. And I think he’s plotting to get even.”

“Well…eh…he…didn’t fire me,” he somehow managed to fit in between gasps. She was seriously messing with the oxygen flow to his brain.

“
Yet
. Just wait until you least expect it. Trust me. I know how devious Orson can be.”

“So, what should I do?” Martin asked.

“Love me, Martin, and don’t worry,” she replied, slipping out of her underwear and pulling his off, as well, before covering his lips with her own.

Another groan passed his lips as he rolled on top of her. Things were moving from hot and heavy to steamy head-over-heels sex when she moved out from under him. Now perched on top of him, she began to do what she did best. Every move had been choreographed in her mind. She knew she had to bring Martin to his most vulnerable state in order to put her plan into action. The man could hardly speak, let alone put two coherent thoughts on any other subject when he was in this position.

She looked down at Martin who looked as if he were halfway to heaven. He clutched a breast with each hand. A tight little smile formed across her voluptuous lips. Then she stopped pumping her body. It took a fraction of a second for him to notice.

“Whadya stop for?” Martin croaked.

“Do you love me?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple yes or no answer.”

Martin grabbed at her hips, but she swatted his hands away.

“Well?”

“Come on, Heather. You’re killing me here,” he said, his voice laced with anger now.

“All you have to do is tell me what I want to know.”

“Of course, I love you. I’m here, aren’t I? Stop playing games.”

“A woman needs to hear it—often.”

“Heather, stop breaking my—”

She put her finger on his lips and then kissed placed it in her mouth and sucked on it. Martin’s eyes widened. Before he could say another thing, she bent down and kissed his lips. It was a greedy kiss and got the reaction she desired from him. Being far from a fool, Heather knew Martin would say just about anything to get her to continue their love-making at this point. She just wanted him to understand what was at stake here. He had to appreciate what she was giving him and not take it for granted. This time when he pulled down on her slender hips, she began to move.

* * *

After Martin left for the dealership, Carla busied herself around the house. Then she tried to work, but she couldn’t concentrate. She felt as if she were sitting on a seesaw. One moment she had control of her life and had her feet firmly rooted to the ground and then the next she found herself perched high in the air, feet swinging without a toehold. Her emotions were riding a runaway roller coaster and she felt drained. On the one hand, if she learned that Martin continued to cheat on her, she wanted to send him packing. However, now that he agreed to start a family maybe she could try to learn to live with his infidelity—or maybe not. The little voice in her head kept trying to be heard. No matter how small it was, it was still audible enough for her to hear. “You shouldn’t have to compromise. It’s okay to share clothes or your car. A woman doesn’t have to share her husband.” She had no idea what she would do.

No matter what, the weight loss had been a good thing. Personally, she liked the way she now looked and felt. Men held doors open for her and were genuinely more courteous. She’d never, ever let herself go again. Despite all that, she still needed some feedback on deciding what she should do. Lynne seemed preoccupied lately with work and her new love. What she really needed and wanted more than ever was to talk to Richard.

Since he’d come into her life and become her friend, she’d normally chat with him on the phone or when she saw him at the gym. She found herself always looking forward to seeing him and cherished their time together. Even doing mundane things with him, such as shopping for his niece’s birthday gift was fun. Now that he’d been off her radar, she wondered if she’d taken him for granted.

She hadn’t heard from him or seen him since he’d left a message on her cell telling her he’d be tied up with a difficult court case. Deep down she feared something else might be keeping him away. It was a nagging feeling, like a mosquito circling her head that she couldn’t get rid of. Could he have found a girl friend? Someone to love?

Her heart caught in her throat momentarily. She was keenly aware her reaction to this thought wasn’t one that a friend should have. A platonic friend would be thrilled for him. However, something inside of her prevented her from feeling thrilled. And just the thought of him with another woman made her sad—and very jealous. She definitely needed to speak to her other sounding block, Lynne—and fast.

Carla called Lynne to see if she were free to talk, but found her busy at an open house. Restless, and still unable to focus on her writing after they disconnected, Carla grabbed her MP3 and called to Blondie.

“Come on, girl. Let’s go for a walk.”

The yellow Lab heard the word “walk” and made a beeline to the door. Carla found her excitedly chasing her tail in front of it. Watching her made Carla dizzy.

“Stay still! I need to put your leash on, dopey,” she said half laughing.

Eventually, she was able to attach the leash to the dog’s collar and get her out the door.

Blondie practically wrenched Carla’s shoulder out of the socket as she bolted forward. That dog loved to go for walks. In fact, Carla believed she lived entirely for them.

Carla was listening to a downloaded novel as she headed toward the end of her winding block. It was a perfect January day for a walk, crisp cool air with plenty of sunshine. She loved Arizona because of its weather, but the summers were often too hot to take long walks. Her mind wasn’t on the story, though. When she realized she’d missed an entire section, she shut off her MP3. She was thinking of Martin. Though she thought she’d begun to reawaken Martin’s love for her and infused their marriage with a fresh start, now she wasn’t too sure if she’d taken one step forward and three steps back. After that phone call he’d received the night before, she wasn’t even certain what she’d gained.

Blondie was sniffing everything in the road and rechristening selected spots as they walked. It was if she pressed a button and a premeasured dose of doggie pee magically marked the territory. It wasn’t long before Carla realized she was no longer thinking about Martin. Instead, her mind had wandered back to Richard.