Macy’s Awakening (2 page)

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

But as she waited for him to open the trunk and retrieve her bags, she was washed over with homesickness. What had started out as a fun, three-day jaunt to the big city—her first time away all on her own—had turned into a total nightmare. She wished again that she could have gone home with her dad.
He
would know exactly the right things to say to make her feel better. Mr. Preston was doing his best, but it just wasn’t the same.

Blinking away the sting of new tears, she forced herself to direct her attention back to her surroundings. His house was long and low, all angles and glass. Not her taste at all. To the left was the detached garage, with windows above that must belong to the guest apartment he’d mentioned. She was glad she’d have her own separate space. Jerrod Preston seemed nice enough, and she knew her dad trusted him, but she wouldn’t have felt comfortable staying in the big house alone with him. As far as she knew, no one else lived with him. No wife or kids.

He picked up her suitcases. “Come on. I’ll show you the apartment.”

She followed him through a gate in the high stucco wall. Now they were in a private courtyard full of potted trees and shrubs, stone benches and a burbling fountain. Low lights were trained on the paved path to the garage, where a wrought iron stairway led up to a landing and a door. She followed him up.

Inside, Macy was surprised at the warmth of the place. She’d expected something spare and stark, in keeping with the architecture of the house, but the studio apartment was furnished with log furniture and softened with muted plaids and a big braided rug. A woodstove crouched on a stone hearth in one corner. In the opposing corner was a small kitchen. Against the back wall was a queen-sized bed, covered in a colorful quilt.

“It’s very nice. Very cozy.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her hand over the soft fabric of the quilt.

“My ex-wife decorated it. The bathroom is over there. That door is the closet. Extra towels and sheets in that dresser. TV in the armoire. Remote on the table.”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

“Like I said, we’ll stock your fridge tomorrow. Oh, there’s a hot tub in the back yard behind the bamboo screen.” He hesitated, seeming slightly uncomfortable. “Clothing is optional.”

“Oh.” Macy felt warmth rise in her cheeks. The idea of lying back in a heated tub under the bright summer stars sounded like heaven. She still had the smell of the filthy jail cot on her skin and in her hair.

But probably a quick shower would be a better idea.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she said. “I’m beat.”

“Good night then.” He headed for the door. “Since tomorrow’s Saturday, I’ll be sleeping in until nine or so. Come on in the back door to the kitchen and get some coffee and breakfast if you like. I’ll leave the coffee pot all made up and ready to go. Just push the red button.” He was smiling in that kind, fatherly way again.

“That’s nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood staring at each other, his hand on the doorknob.

“You going to be okay here tonight?”

She nodded. “Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome again. Good night.”

“Good night.”

* * * *

Jerrod let himself in the back door and stood for a moment in the dark kitchen, getting his bearings. He’d been doing just fine until Macy sat down on the bed and began to stroke the quilt. He’d barely been able to tear his gaze from her hand, remembering her firm grip, imagining what it would feel like for her to touch his body the way she was touching the quilt.

God! What the hell was wrong with him? How inappropriate could he get? To be having such thoughts about a client.

A young, trusting client.

His old friend’s daughter!

God.

It had been too long since he’d been with a woman. That had to be the problem. He thought back. His last date had been maybe five months before with Jennifer, that cute librarian he’d met online. They had really hit it off over dinner, and had a great time in the sack too. But he’d gotten wrapped up in the Stevens case and had to cancel their next two dates. After that she quit answering her cell when he called. He didn’t blame her.

Was it too late to mend that fence? He hoped not. It wouldn’t do to keep having sexy thoughts about Chuck’s teenage daughter.

He flicked on the light and walked across the kitchen to the coffeemaker. As he filled the carafe with cold water he felt Peter-the-cat begin to weave around his ankles.

“Hey, buddy,” he said. “We have a visitor. Be nice to her in the morning, will you?”

He’d developed the habit of talking aloud to the cat as if the animal could actually understand what he said. In return, Peter appeared to listen attentively. They’d established this new rapport shortly after Arlene and Allie moved out last year, leaving the cat behind. His growing attachment to Peter surprised him; he’d never thought of himself as a cat person. But it sure as hell beat talking to himself in the evenings.

He measured out the coffee and shoved the pot against the tile backsplash. Then he took a clean mug from the cupboard and set it out where the girl would find it. He checked to make sure there was half-and-half in the fridge and sugar in the bowl. He imagined her coming in here in the morning, feeling a little bit lost, and finding the familiar comforts of home laid out for her. It was the least he could do.

He climbed the stairs to the master bedroom and undressed in the dark, then went to the window overlooking the back yard and shoved it open to let in the night air. The honeysuckle bush he’d planted for Arlene on their fifteenth anniversary gave off its sweet, haunting perfume right below the window, sending a stab of confusion and regret through him. He wished he understood better what had happened between them. She had never given him a reason for leaving that made any sense to him.

A sudden movement down in the yard caught his eye.

He jerked back from the window.

It was Macy. In the moonlight. Clothing optional.

Moving forward a hair’s breadth, he peeked around the edge of the casement. With the lights off in his room, he realized she couldn’t see him. He grew bolder. From this window, the screen of plantings that gave privacy three quarters of the way around the hot tub didn’t block his view. He watched as she lay back, motionless, her eyes closed and face upturned. The jets were turned on, so the water swirled and coursed around her, revealing and then hiding her naked breasts.

His cock jumped to attention.

Her breasts were on the small side, in keeping with the slender proportions of her lithe little body, and her nipples were dark. Exposed to the water and night air, they puckered sweetly; even from here he could see the tips were firm and pointed. He licked his lips, imagining those nipples against his tongue, imagining what her latte-colored skin might taste like.

Her hand moved languidly to one side, found the controls, and turned off the jets. The water stilled, imitating a calm forest pool now, lighted from beneath. The details of her lower body were indistinct, but through the slowing ripples he could see how her waist nipped in and her hips flared. He could make out the dark triangle where her thighs met her flat belly. His cock pulsed, got harder. He put his hand there to still it. The next thing he knew he was rubbing himself and staring at the girl’s naked breasts.

This was bad. Really bad.

* * * *

Macy’s thoughts drifted like the scent of honeysuckle wafting across the yard. The night air was velvet on her face, caressing her breasts where they stuck out of the water. The liquid warmth surrounded her, buoyed her. For the first time since this whole ordeal began yesterday, she began to feel some small degree of peace.

How much of her improved mood was this awesome hot tub? And how much was because Mr. Preston inspired in her a feeling of trust? She felt as if she could lay her troubles on his broad shoulders now and have faith that everything would work out. He had said he’d get her out of this mess, and she believed him.

Judging from the man’s spacious home in this well-to-do neighborhood, he was good at his job. Successful. And he was definitely hot in that older-guy kind of way. Why wasn’t he married or living with someone? Was he gay?

Nah. She remembered the way he’d been watching her at the burger place. He had definitely checked out her breasts.

It was really kinda sad that a handsome guy like him went to bed all alone on a Friday night. But maybe he’d had a date that he’d had to cancel on her account. She hoped not. The last thing she wanted to do was interfere in her attorney’s personal life.

The moon disappeared behind a cloud, and she shivered as the yard darkened. She reached for the big, soft towel folded at the edge of the tub and got out, wrapping it around herself before she crossed the yard and went up the stairs.

Chapter 2

Jerrod had planned to sleep late, as he usually did on Saturdays, but his eyes popped open at seven and wouldn’t close again. Insidious yearnings began to curl through his thoughts.

Macy Wilson was there. Sleeping in his guest house. Beautiful girl with gold skin and haunting eyes. And sweet, pert breasts he wanted to see again.

No!
He squeezed his eyes shut and lay still, fists balled at his sides, willing his thoughts to something else. Anything else.

The front lawn needed mowing.

He should run the Lexus through the car wash today.

He’d forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning yesterday afternoon.

He needed to buy groceries for both the house and the guest apartment.

He came up with a list of half a dozen things he could take care of today that didn’t involve restraining his libido. Finally, feeling a tad calmer, he rolled over and got up, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He needed to get this thing under control right now, before he made a damn fool of himself. Before he did or said something he’d regret.

As he went down the stairs he heard noise from the kitchen, the clink of flatware and running water. He heard the girl’s voice talking low to someone. Was she on the phone?

“Okay, kitty,” he heard her say now, “where does he keep your food?”

“It’s in the laundry room,” Jerrod said as he walked in. He smiled in her direction without meeting her eyes, but she stunned him anyway. She was wearing a yellow sundress. A
short
yellow sundress. Bare legs. Little silver sandal things. Big hoops of silver in her ears.

God.

His groin began to ache again.

“Sleep okay?” he asked.

“Yes. The bed was very comfortable. I took you up on your offer of the hot tub too. So relaxing.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Act like you haven’t seen her naked.

“I see you’ve met Peter-the-cat.” He reached down and patted Peter, who looked perturbed as always. “I’ll show you where his food is. He won’t leave us alone until he’s had his breakfast.”

She followed him into the laundry room and waited behind him while he opened the cupboard next to the dryer and pointed out the bin of pet food. He filled the plastic measuring cup with dry kibble and bent over to fill Peter’s bowl. She shifted her feet away, but not before he got a close up view of pearl-painted toenails and a delicate silver anklet. Even her feet were sexy. He swallowed hard and straightened up.

“Would you like some breakfast?” His voice came out all wonky.

“I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

“Maybe just some cold cereal or toast?”

“Just coffee is fine.” She smiled and brushed past him into the kitchen, and he caught a whiff of her perfume, a clean, powdery scent. He noticed that she had put on some kind of glossy lip stuff too, in a soft melon color. He wondered what her lips would taste like if he took her in his arms right now and covered her mouth with his.

Just then the coffeemaker beeped three times.

“I’m ready,” he said. “That is—the coffee’s ready.”

* * * *

Macy tried to keep her eyes on her shopping list as she walked beside their cart through the crowded supermarket. Jerrod—he insisted she call him that—had made a list as well of things he needed for the house, including entrée and salad ingredients for their dinners. He’d asked her if she enjoyed grilled steaks and salmon, and she’d said yes, trying to picture the two of them sitting together in the high-walled garden as they waited for their meal to cook. What would they possibly find in common to talk about? His world and hers had only intersected because of the robbery in the mall.

She had already added her own favorites to the basket—yogurt, string cheese, peanut butter, baby carrots, Coke. Now only the more personal items remained at the bottom of her list. If she was staying here for any length of time she would need more than just her travel size shampoo and conditioner and hair spray, plus tampons and panty liners. It was these last two items she was putting off buying. Maybe she’d come back later on her own. But without a car it might be difficult to do any errands. She wavered as he began to move toward the checkout counters.

Suddenly he leaned over and made a playful grab for the scrap of paper she’d written on.

“Let’s see that list of yours. If we hurry up and get out of here, we can go do something more enjoyable.”

She saw his eyes travel down her list and then flick away as he got to the bottom. For a few beats he was silent, training his gaze elsewhere. Macy wished she could magically disappear.

Then he shrugged and handed the paper back to her.

“It’s all right.” He gave her a tight little smile. “I used to be married, you know. I have a daughter just a little younger than you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

He wheeled the cart down the feminine hygiene aisle and waited while she grabbed what she needed, but she noticed him slant his glance away as she placed her purchases into the basket. Sighing in relief, she followed him to the checkout counter.

“Hi, Jerrod.” The blonde checker greeted him, her kohl-rimmed eyes skimming over Macy and back to him.