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Authors: Tawna Fenske

Making Waves (20 page)

BOOK: Making Waves
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“Is any of that food for me besides the cheeseburger?”

She smiled and set the menu down on the nightstand. “The fries, of course, but I’m not sharing my sausages. I’ll fight to the death over sausage links.”

“Now that I’ve seen you in a fight, I’ll consider myself warned. Nice job with Portelli, by the way.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Juli moved toward the end of her bed where she’d dropped her bag. She bent forward and rummaged around for her toothbrush, intent on doing something to cut the tension. She pulled out Uncle Frank’s urn and set it on the edge of the dresser, then dug back in her knapsack for the toothbrush. She found it tangled in a sock and pulled it out. Alex was quiet for so long that Juli glanced up to see what he was doing. He was staring openly, right down the front of her shirt.

“Enjoying the view?” she asked, still bent over, bolder than she felt. “Let me know when you’d like to retrieve your eyeballs from my cleavage.”

“Actually, I’ll just leave them there awhile if it’s all the same to you.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Alex watched her for a few more seconds, then shook his head. “This shared luxury suite thing is a bad, bad idea,” he said as he flopped back on the bed. “This bed’s mine, that one’s yours. No more strip Battleship. No more staring down the front of your shirt. We’re going to behave like responsible adults. This isn’t a good time for—well, for—”

“Whatever you say, boss,” she said with a shrug as she began strolling the room. “Nice place.” She flicked a lamp on and off and on and off again as she chewed the head of her toothbrush. She switched sides, working the rest of her teeth, still aware of Alex’s gaze. Finally, she looked up to see him studying her, an amused smile playing over his features.

“The toiletries are pretty fancy,” she said, extracting the toothbrush. “Did you check out the bathroom? Little soaps in their own box, mouthwash, a shower cap, shampoo
and
conditioner—not that all-in-one crap.”

She chewed the toothbrush again, watching him.

“No toothpaste?” Alex said. “Because normal people brush their teeth at a sink with toothpaste and water. Ever tried it?”

“You really think the only thing separating me from
normal
is how I brush my teeth?”

“Good point. Let’s return to the original line of questioning.” Alex sat up on the bed again. “How long have you known Tom Portelli?”

Juli sighed. He wasn’t going to let this die. And really, there was no reason not to tell him. He already knew her freak-of-nature genius status. What were a few family mob ties on top of all that?

“Uncle Frank brought Tom to Christmas dinner when I was three,” she said finally. “He was pretty much a fixture at family events whenever he was in town. His wife, Ginny, used to braid my hair and even bought me my first training bra.”

Alex nodded, looking a little distracted by that detail. “How well did you know Tom?” he asked. “Or your Uncle Frank, for that matter?”

“Well enough, on both counts,” Juli said as she dropped onto the edge of her bed and bounced a little.

She saw his eyes fall to her breasts again, watched him swallow hard and look away. He reached behind him and tugged one of the pillows out from under the duvet. Propping it behind him, he leaned back, folded his hands over his chest, and settled his gaze on the ceiling.

Probably figured it was a safer place to look.

Pity, that
, Juli thought.

“What else?” Alex prompted, and Juli felt the room tilt as she considered what he might be suggesting.

“Oh—you mean Portelli and Uncle Frank?” She folded her arms over her chest, annoyed. “Why, because you’ve been so forthcoming with information to this point?”

He looked at her again, those green eyes pinning her with such intensity she was sure he could see right through her clothing.

I’ll tell you anything you want
, she thought.
Just keep looking at me that way.

“I knew Uncle Frank and Tom Portelli were business partners,” Juli said at last. “As I got older, I figured their business wasn’t always legal. I didn’t know for sure until Uncle Frank told me everything just before he died, but I guess you could say I wasn’t surprised by anything he said.”

Alex nodded. “So that was true. The part about the deathbed confession, I mean. After the fake FBI thing, I wasn’t really sure which parts of your story were true and which parts you just made up.”

Juli shrugged and stuffed her toothbrush back into her bag and scooted back to the edge of her bed. She pressed the balls of her feet against his knees to stretch her calves. “Let’s see, the deathbed confession part was true. The part about the memoir, not so much. I don’t even know anyone in New York City, much less a publisher. I did actually call the FBI as soon as I heard Tom would be here. I wasn’t lying about that. They just hadn’t arrived yet, so I had to improvise.”

“Nice job with that,” Alex said. “Seriously, you probably saved my life.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t have shot you.”

“Sure he would have.”

“Okay, he would have.” She wiggled her toes against his calf, savoring the feel of the thick hair and muscled flesh. “So how about you? How long have you known Tom?”

Alex sighed. “More than twenty years. Started at Kranston right out of college, when I was broke and trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.” He laughed. “Kind of ironic, considering where I am now.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Right back where I started. I was at the bottom of the corporate ladder in the beginning, and I made my way up to becoming a VP at Kranston. Worked closely with Tom the whole time. Had a pretty nice pension, good benefits, the whole nine yards.”

“What happened?”

Alex was quiet for a long time, and Juli thought he was going to avoid the question again. She was so used to having him withhold information, she was surprised when he finally spoke.

“Portelli hosed us,” he said at last. “Me, Phyllis, Jake, Cody—and a bunch of others. Our pensions, stock options, benefits, everything we’d worked for—gone. Just like that.”

“So you were getting even,” Juli said, understanding at last. “That’s what you meant when you said the pirate mission was personal. But you didn’t get your money back since the cargo wasn’t there. So now what?”

She saw him wince, and wished like hell she could take back the question. Smiling Alex was gone, replaced by Surly Alex now.

“I don’t know what’s next,” he said. “I sunk most of my savings into my boat last year, and lost more in the stock market a few months back. Figured I had time to make it up with a steady job and a great pension, but now—” He shook his head and looked away. “I am jobless and penniless at forty-two years old. Hot, huh?”

Juli frowned. “What does
hot
have to do with anything?”

He looked away. “I should be at the peak of my earning potential right now, and instead, I’m starting from scratch.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’ve only known you a week, but you’re one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. I’m sure you’ll land on your feet.”

“Sure.”

“Alex—”

He looked at her. “When’s the food getting here?”

“Soon.” Juli looked at him a moment longer, then shook her head. Clearly, money and job security was a touchy subject.

Maybe mobsters would be better.

“So Uncle Frank is the reason you refused to tell me any details about the mission?” she asked. “Because of the whole mob thing?”

“No, actually,” Alex said, shifting his leg a little to trap her feet under his calf. Juli grinned and wiggled her toes beneath the weight, enjoying the sensation of having any part of her body pinned under any part of Alex’s on a bed.

“We didn’t figure out you were the niece of a famous mobster until just yesterday morning,” he continued, still not looking at her as he squashed her toes under his calf. “I’d heard of Frankie before, obviously. Notorious guy. But I didn’t know he had any connection to Tom. That part was news to me.”

Juli wiggled her toes some more, then pulled them free and sat up. She stared at Alex, willing him to look at her, trying to figure out how to make him smile again. Keep him talking, maybe that would do it.

“So what can you tell me about—”

“Look,” he interrupted, “why don’t we call it quits with the Twenty Questions for now. When do you think the food will be here?”

Juli clapped her hands together and grinned. “That’s a great idea!”

Alex gave her a puzzled look. “The food? You already ordered it.”

She shook her head and dropped onto his bed beside him, crossing her legs. “Twenty Questions. Let’s play!”

He shook his head, but he’d started to smile. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Juli grinned back. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You want to go first?”

“Really, when is the food coming?”

Juli checked her watch. “Ten minutes. We’ve got time for at least one round of Twenty Questions. Come on, Alex, it’ll be fun.”

He grabbed Juli’s foot and tickled it, making her squeal. “Fine,” he said. “One game. Why do I have a feeling I’ll regret this?”

“You always have that feeling,” she pointed out. “Do you ever regret it?”

“Not yet.”

***

Alex couldn’t believe he’d let her talk him into another game.
Jesus
. The first one had gotten him married. The second had gotten him a foot job. The third had gotten him naked. Now what—conversion to a religious cult?

Sharing a room with her was insane, especially with all these secrets that kept popping up like something out of a deranged jack-in-the-box. The genius thing, the mobster uncle, the ties to Portelli. Sleeping with her would be stupid. What the hell else was she hiding—a sex change operation?

He looked at her, flushed and round in that tank top. No, probably not a sex change.

Still, he had to stay focused. He had to figure out what to do about the cargo. About his vanished pension. About the fact that he was forty-two years old and jobless with no retirement package and no clue what the hell had gone wrong with his plan to get it all back. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted.

“Okay,” he said finally, willing to do anything to get Juli to stop bouncing around, moving under that thin tank top, making him want her so badly he was five seconds from pushing her backwards onto that bed and really making her toes curl.

“You ask questions first,” he said. “I picked an object. Go.”

Juli jumped up, and Alex couldn’t help but watch as she grabbed all the pillows off her bed and began tossing them onto his.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting by you,” she announced, leaning over him to straighten the pillows, reaching back to grab two more before crawling across his lap to sprawl out beside him. She flounced and jostled for a minute longer before settling beside him and matching his pose. She grinned.

“Your bed is closer to the air conditioner,” Juli informed him. “I like it better over here.”

Oh, good
, Alex thought.
Juli in a flimsy top next to the air conditioner.
He looked at his watch, willing the room service staff to hurry up. Maybe he could get his burger raw?

“Animal, vegetable, or mineral?” she asked.

Hell, he’d forgotten they were playing a game. He looked up at the ceiling, his mind racing, feeling around in dark corners for an object, any object. His brain swam in images, but few lent themselves to an innocent game of Twenty Questions.

He looked away from the ceiling and down at Juli, considering. Well hell, she was the one who came up with Strip Battleship, wasn’t she?

“Animal,” he told her, already regretting his choice.

“Is it bigger than a zebra?”

Alex raised an eyebrow at her. “A zebra?”

“Just as a point of reference.”

“No. It is not bigger than a zebra.”

“Is it bigger than a sheep?”

“No.”

“Bigger than a tarantula?”

“Yes. Bigger than a tarantula.”

Juli nodded, looking thoughtful. “Is it soft?”

Alex winced. “Yes.”

“Striped?”

“No.”

“Does it live on land?”

“Yes.”

“How many questions is that?”

Alex smiled. “Counting this one and the animal-vegetable-mineral one, eight.”

She frowned at him. “You don’t count that one. That’s not fair.”

Alex grinned down at her, enjoying his advantage. “Neither was using a mirror to cheat at Strip Battleship.”

“Good point.”

“You going to ask another one?”

“I’m thinking,” she said, shifting again, her curls tickling the side of his chin as she wriggled to adjust one of her pillows. He felt dizzy as he caught a breath of her shampoo and another glimpse down the front of her shirt. He looked away and checked his watch again. Where was room service? And why the hell hadn’t he been smart enough to request two separate rooms?

And for that matter, what was happening one hundred miles away with Jake and Phyllis and Cody and the pirates and all that damn cargo? He should be focusing on that. Not on Juli, no matter how soft and beautiful and—

“Is it a mammal?” Juli asked at last.

Alex considered that one. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

“Had to think about it though?”

Alex smiled. “Is that your tenth question? You’re going to have to start guessing soon.”

Juli crossed her arms over her chest. Alex felt light-headed.

“Is it a cat?” she asked finally.

“No.”

“Dog?”

“No.”

“This is hard.”

Alex closed his eyes. “Actually, you already established that it’s soft.”

She slugged him in the shoulder. “Is it furry?”

“God, no.”

“Does it have a tail?”

Alex laughed, looking down at her again. “No. No tail. Are you going to take another swing with the guessing or just burn up the rest of your questions?”

Juli met his eyes, holding them for one beat, two, three. She gave him a devilish grin and leaned against him, making her top gape open again.

Jesus, she was driving him nuts.

BOOK: Making Waves
5.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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