Love Handles (29 page)

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Authors: Gretchen Galway

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He growled and bent lower. “Take out your anger on me. I like it.” He slipped his hand down the front of her shirt and pushed it down, exposing her bra and the erect nipple beneath pressing through the nylon. “Bitchy women turn me on.”

She clutched his shoulders, dug her fingernails in to hear him growl again, gasping when he sucked hard on the aching tip of her breast. He made no effort to hurry or take it easy; he was methodical and precise, undeterred by her small acts of violence.

“I always wanted to be a bitch.” She threw her head back and forgot her mother. Now it was just him, his touch, what she wanted.

He licked his way up to her earlobe. “You have the funniest ideas about yourself. This nice girl thing. Funny.”

“I’m—a preschool teacher.” She gasped. “That’s—about as nice—as you can get.”

He breathed on the ticklish hollow under her ear. “Not a preschool teacher anymore.”

Another thrill washed over her. “No.”

He sighed and pulled her head to his chest, under his chin. “I snuck into your office and saw the Target line Jennifer has started to make for you.” He slipped his hand under her shirt and caressed her back. “Rachel had the sample sewers make up an extra pair of the shorts, just for her to keep, because she doesn’t want to wait for production.” He kissed her hair. “Even the new private label tags look pretty good.”

“Thanks.” She was melting.

“You think it’ll do the trick, don’t you?”

She lifted her head and kissed the corner of his mouth, the half that was smiling. “I do, actually.”

He looked into her eyes. “So do I.” His hand cupped his cheek. “You’re a natural, apparently. A fashion savant.”

She grinned, suffused with happiness. He leaned down, rested his forehead on hers, and caressed her lower lip with his thumb. “Now we just have to get you training for your first marathon, and you’ve won the prize.”

“What prize?”

His teeth flashed white in the dim porch. “That would be me, of course.”

“I inherited
you
, too? I didn’t see you listed in the will.”

He smiled, but fell silent. She felt his muscles tense.

“We’ve been gone too long from the table.” He gently pulled her shirt back up over her bra. “I shouldn’t have given your mother any bad ideas, but I couldn’t resist. You were sweet to defend me, but don’t do it again or people will get suspicious.”

“I said something. What was it?”

“Nothing. Sorry. We should get back.”

“The will. It’s because I mentioned the will.” All the details she’d picked up over the past weeks flooded her mind—Liam knowing where Ed’s water heater was, the extra set of keys, his unrivaled stature at the company, his mother lighting the memorial candle, his rude comments when they’d met. “You were supposed to be in the will.”

He stroked her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “We should get back.”

“My grandfather should have left you something. What did he promise you? I never knew—” She swore under her breath. “If only he hadn’t put everything into Fite, or passed some of it along to my mother, I might be able to fulfill his promise. How much—not that it matters, since I’m still broke—”

“I don’t want any money.” He took a step back and his face closed up, cold and tight. “That’s never what I wanted.”

“Was it something in the house? We kept everything, Liam. Whatever it was, it’s in storage. We can find it. I don’t care if my mom objects, I’ll—”

“Bev.” His hard voice cut through her babbling. “Enough.”

One of the dogs at his feet jerked his ears up and scurried off into a corner. Bev was hurt but didn’t want to show it. “I was just trying to help.”

“You were trying to be nice again. Don’t bother.”

“I’m the nurturing type.” She reached her hand up to his face and smiled. “Let me nurture you a little bit.”

He jerked his head away. “I’ve already got a mother.”

Her jaw dropped open. To her horror she felt her eyes get warm. Grabbing on to her anger as a lifejacket, she dug her fingernails into her palms and tried to regain her breathing. “A better one than you deserve. Find me some wine and I’ll bring it to her.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. Shrugging, he pulled a bottle out of a case he didn’t bother to read and followed her back through the kitchen to the dining room.

Her mother’s face was probably disapproving, but Bev was careful not to look anywhere near it. Instead she turned all her attentions to Mark, sweet geeky Mark, and finished the meal exchanging teacher’s secret methods of mixing common ingredients to make model volcanoes explode until she could excuse herself from the party to go check on her old, vomiting cat.

Chapter 19

“E
llen is the only one who could've changed the locks,” Bev said, reclining in the couch next to Ball and eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes. She was going over the argument with her mother for the sixth time since the dinner the night before. “I know it wasn’t Liam. We discovered it together, and he was just as surprised as I was. Whoever did it had keys to the place.”

Gail and Kate were already at work on the cardio machines they’d hauled in from the rear bedroom. Neither one would eat until they had accrued a large enough calorie deficit to cover their breakfast; they’d been at it for thirty minutes so far and had another half hour to go.

“Well, Ellen was in New York with Johnny when you called me about the break-in.” Gail poked the buttons on her elliptical machine, making it hum into a new position. “That was the first thing I said to her, but she convinced me. She’s totally innocent on that. You’re just ashamed to admit this guy could have tricked you.”

Bev shook her head. “If you could have seen him—”

“I did see him.” Gail raised her eyebrows. “All six feet more, blond, strapping inches of him. That’s my point. It explains a lot.”

She got up with her empty bowl and headed for the kitchen. “It wasn’t him.”

Gail bent over for her water bottle. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. Ellen is family. Don’t assume the worst.”

Kate burst out laughing. “Weak argument, Mom. This is our family we’re talking about.”

Bev asked her mother, “Does she have an alibi for when the locks were changed too?”

“Alibi! You make her sound like a criminal.”

“You were the one who wanted me to call the police.”

“After the break-in! And you should have. The police should be involved when people—even tall, good-looking people—break into our houses to frighten us,” Gail said.

“She doesn’t have an alibi.” Bev leaned closer. “It had to be her.”

Gail scowled at the treadmill screen, face flushed and shiny, then swung her head to Bev. “She was overcome with grief. That’s a fair explanation. You were a stranger to her, coming up to steal away her career and her home. Perhaps you should be grateful that was all she did.”

Bev mouth dropped open. “You
knew
?”

“Not then, of course not.” Gail slapped the machine, the pedals hummed and slowed, and she jumped of with a towel in her hand. “Last week she opened up about a lot of things. I admit I was suspicious of her, but that was before. I didn’t feel right violating her confidence and sharing everything with you. Especially now that the sisterly relationship is so fragile.”

Bev’s feeling of triumph was short-lived. “She confessed to changing the locks, but she not to the break-in.”

“It’s impossible, Bev. Not that you’ll ever believe me now—you are so pigheaded. I knew you’d jump to conclusions.” Her mother got up on tiptoes to read the screen display then marched off to the kitchen, wiping her forehead.

“Well?” Bev asked Kate.

She shrugged. “Who cares? Nothing’s happened since.” After a long gulp of water, she wiped her mouth on the back of her forearm and picked up her pace. “I kind of like the pet fashion idea, don’t you? Or are you taking
his
side on that too?”

Fite had enough trouble with human beings. “I’m taking my side. And my side doesn’t want any more family drama inside that building.”

Kate gaped. “You can’t mean
me
?”

“Yup.”

“I came all the way up here, and you won’t even let me in the stupid building of the family business?”

“You’ve never mentioned it before,” Bev said.

“Well, it’s not like I want to, but
jeez
. My grandpa too, you know?”

“You didn’t even bother to go to the funeral.”

“Not like he’d notice. Besides, Mom said I didn’t have to.”

“She told me the same thing. I went anyway,” Bev said.

“That’s because you’re always trying to be better than everybody else.”

What was it with the insults about her sincerity? “And you never think the rules apply to you because you’re so special.” Bev looked at her watch. “I’m going to work.”

“It’s Saturday!”

In less than a week she would be flying to Minneapolis with Liam. “As you pointed out, I’ve got to try to be better than everyone else.”

Kate huffed and slapped the stop button on the treadmill. “If you’re not going to let me help out at Fite, I might as well go home.”

“Don’t be that way.”

“What? If you don’t trust me to help out at Fite, why should I stay?”

“Because I’m going to convince Mom to go home tomorrow and I don’t want to be here alone. We still don’t know who broke in.”

“Please. Not that he has to break anything now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why steal it if the cow’s giving it out for free? Isn’t it obvious? Gramps was pimping you out. He probably planned it this way all along.”

Feeling a chill settle over her shoulders, Bev lowered her voice. “Maybe you
should
go home. Nobody’s stopping you.”

“I mean, all he has to do to take over Fite is take over you. And you’re hardly playing hard to get. ‘Oh, Liam! You’re the best thing
evah
!’”

Bev’s hands shook. “I’m going to finish getting ready for work. I’ll be gone for the rest of the day. If you’re serious about your threat to leave, now would be the time to follow through. Not that you follow through on anything.”

Kate pointed a finger. “Just because I see right through him.”

Gail came into the room peeling a low-fat string cheese from its wrapper. “Girls! Now don’t
you
start. ”

Kate gave Bev a narrow-eyed, daring, evil smile, and said nothing. “I’ve been dismissed, so I’m going home.”

Gail’s eyes went wide. “But I just got here!”

“Bev says there’s no way in hell she’ll let me work at Fite. Can you believe that?”

“Really, Bev!”

“Or you either, Mom,” Bev said. “Sorry, but if that’s why you’re here, you’d better go with Kate.”

Gail stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“Fite can’t handle more people at the top steering it in different directions. There are great people there who can bring Fite around. It’s my job to make sure they get the chance to do it.”

“Now hold on there, Beverly Moon Lewis,” Gail said, voice low. “I put up with that kind of talk last night, but no more.” She pointed at the couch. “Both of you,
sit
.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Bev said firmly.

“Oh, I think you will.” She wiggled her finger.

Kate flung herself on the sofa, pretending not to care, but Bev stayed on her feet.

Her mother frowned at her, pursing her lips, but continued, “First of all, I think that doggie idea is wonderful, and so does Ellen. She said it was amazing nobody had thought of it yet.”

“When did Ellen say that?” Bev asked.

“We spoke early this morning. New York hours. And that’s not all she said, but we’ll go over it when she gets here.”

Bev pointed at her. “No. She is not getting involved. You are not getting involved.”

Gail went over and stood next to Kate on the sofa. “I’m amazed that you continue to hold onto this crazy idea that you can stop Ellen from running her own company.”

“It isn’t hers. If Grandfather had left it to her, she would have sold it by now,” Bev said. “She just wants the money.”

Gail let out a deep breath. “Obviously I got here just in time. Listen to you. Some people are cut out for this business. Some people are not. The sooner you get back home to something not so stressful, where you can be yourself, the better.”

“Enough!” Bev ran a hand through her hair. “You’ve never understood me. You think I became a teacher because I didn’t like
stress
? Have you ever been inside a classroom?” She threw up her hands. “Of course not. You haven’t been inside a school since you were seventeen. Certainly none of
mine
.”

Her mother’s eyes went wide. “You’ll thank me,” she said finally, her voice rough. “You’re obviously breaking under the stress. Stress floods your skin with free radicals. Do you want to lose your looks before you turn thirty?”

Bev marched over to the foyer. She didn’t have time for this. “I turned thirty last December.” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Is that all you’ve got? Because I’ve got different values than you do. If I get prematurely saggy and gray, at least I’ll have something I can be proud of that isn’t reflected in a mirror.”

That hit home. Gail sucked in her breath through her teeth. “Who do you think owns this house you’re living in?”

Bev froze. She’d never rebelled as a teenager, too afraid to risk what little family she had.

Well, better late than never.

“Who do you think is sick of putting up with all your patronizing shit?” she said softly.

Gail’s mouth fell open. She collapsed onto the sofa next to Kate. “Here I was feeling guilty about giving Ellen’s son the house, and now I don’t have to.” She bit her lip, frowning through tears. “You don’t want me, you can find somewhere else to live. Today.”

Bev was too angry to give a damn about her mother’s feelings. Later she might, but right then all she could think of was every dismissive comment her mother had ever made, a montage of put-downs that ran through her thoughts like a low-budget music video. “You’re kicking me out,” she said flatly.

“Not if you’re reasonable.”

“Which means having you, Ellen, and Kate take over?” Bev snorted. “What do I do—run the daycare center?”

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