Next To You (32 page)

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Authors: Sandra Antonelli

BOOK: Next To You
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‘Ever see his Motown moves?’

‘I’ve known for over thirty years how much he wanted to be one of the Temptations. Look, Murph, she brought you monkey suits. Make sure he doesn’t look too much like a well-dressed dancing gorilla, Caroline.’

‘I’d settle for chimpanzee over gorilla.’ Will said. ‘Howdy, Squirt.’

Caroline laughed. ‘Hi, William.’

‘Shall we go up to my office and see if you can make some kind of primate out of me?’ Will took the garment bag from her, stepped back inside the elevator, and kept the doors open as she boarded. ‘See you tomorrow, Quince.

‘Yes. Nine-thirty, and for God’s sake make sure you lock the door,
William
.’ Quincy leaned sideways, waving at them as the elevator slid shut.

‘Can you lock an elevator door?’ she asked as they began to move.

Will gave a small cough. ‘He means a door upstairs.’

‘Oh. ‘What’s SPI stand for?’

‘SPI is the Suicide Prevention Initiative. Quincy’s on the board of directors. His son killed himself a few years ago.’

‘That’s tragic.’

‘Yes, it is.’

She put a hand in her coat pocket and pulled out a tissue, dabbing it at her nose as she looked up at him. ‘Have you,’ she said, ‘at any point in your life thought about killing yourself?’

‘Never.’ He shook his head. ‘Never.’

‘I never did either, but, well … there you go.’ She stuffed the tissue back into her pocket. ‘When are you going to Dallas?’

‘Thursday afternoon. I have a John Wayne swagger workshop to attend.’

‘Lucky you. It’s getting really cold and I’d love some Texas sun. I’m going to have to sleep with the electric blanket on all night.’

‘You like those?’

‘I can’t sleep if I’m cold.’

‘Maybe you just need something warm in the bed with you.’

‘What would you suggest?’

‘A hot water bottle or maybe some oven-warmed bricks like they did in the olden days.’

‘Like when you were a kid?’

‘Very funny.’

‘Batman’s like a hot little brick. He does a pretty good job keeping my feet warm.’

He transferred the garment bag to his right hand. ‘That’s not what I had in mind.’

‘You’re thinking a St. Bernard is a better choice to snuggle up to than a Rat Terrier, aren’t you?’

‘Well, no. I’m thinking of something more like a polar bear.’

She met his gaze. ‘Thanks again for getting me my job back, Mr. Bear.’

‘I’m glad I could be of
some
kind of service.’

Exhaling softly, she looked down at her shoes.

He looked at her shoes too. There was slim beige piping around the top of the chocolate brown leather.

‘William, what are we doing here?’ she said.

‘Doing where?’

‘Standing on the corner of Friend and Flirt Street.’ She lifted her chin, a crease between her brows.

A tiny, crooked smirk dimpled his left cheek. ‘Well, I’m a carousel, remember? I keep …’

The elevator stopped. The doors slid open, and a dark-skinned, petite woman entered. ‘Hello, Will,’ she said.

‘Lillian, you’re looking well. How’s Adrian’s leg?’

‘The cast comes off next Friday. He’ll be out training as soon as the orthopedic specialist tells him it’s safe.’

‘Excuse me. Lillian, this is Caroline.’

Caroline smiled. ‘Hello.’

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Lillian’s Quincy’s assistant. Her son is the state’s cross country star.’

‘He was until he broke his leg skateboarding. He’s been a cast for three months.’

‘He’ll get right back into shape in no time, I’m sure.’

They arrived on the executive floor. With a smile, Lillian stepped out. Will led Caroline to his office. She followed him inside. He closed the door behind her, hesitated, and turned the lock.

Caroline took off her red Doris Day coat and hung it on the same wooden coatrack where he’d put the suit bag. ‘Lillian was nice,’ she said.

‘Yes, she’s a pleasant woman, but let’s get back to the corner we’re standing on.’ Will took a long billfold from his inside jacket pocket and tossed it across the room. The wallet landed on his desk next to his glasses and sent the pewter letter opener skidding along the desktop.

She busied herself at the coatrack, hanging up her purse, her back to him. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘It’s a game we play and that’s all right. We’re good at this
Double Indemnity
and
Moonlighting
sparkling repartee. We should work together and write a screenplay or TV series of our own. Okay, we’ve had a bit of innocuous, inebriated, fun, but we know where our boundary lies. Right?’ She twisted the suit bag around and began to unzip it.

He agreed with the part about
Double Indemnity
and
Moonlighting
, but Will puffed out a half laugh.

‘I just decided the Boss jacket isn’t cut right for you,’ she said. ‘So I’ll leave that be. Which one would you like to try on first, the Valentino or the Armani?’ Caroline reached inside the bag and slipped out two tuxedos. When she held up one in each hand and turned around, he had crept up very close.

He moved even closer and his arm went around her waist. ‘I’ve been so curious to see how well you’ll fit when I’m not drunk on this carousel.’ He hooked a finger under her chin, tipped her face upwards and swept his nose down hers, like he had the other night. He sang, ‘
He flies through the air with the greatest of ease, that daring young man on the flying trapeze
,’ then his mouth brushed across her lips, testing, waiting for her sober response. He felt her faltering indecision, her weighted arms outstretched like wings.

Caroline was in such an odd position, stuck between a horrifying past she sought to let go for good, Yvonne, and standing with arms bent at the elbow, tuxedos suspended from two fingers on each hand. His mouth tickled, teased, and Caroline let go of the hangers.

The suits dropped to the floor.

She ran her hands inside his jacket, sliding her palms up his chest. Caroline wanted to trip him backward, to crash on top of him with her dress hiked up around her thighs. She wanted to pull off his tie and unbutton his shirt. She wanted the promising heat of his snowy-looking skin to warm her wintry heart back to a kind of springtime, which he did as soon as his fingers slipped into her hair. With a pure vernal blossoming, she kissed him, every part of her enlivened and flowing. ‘William,’ she said and pressed to him, ridiculously hoping they would fuse together, thinking they were going to succeed until he took his mouth away.

He stepped back, putting a little distance between them. ‘My God, I really don’t know what to do about you,’ he said. ‘We hover between a layer of friendship and this dance, this back and forth all the time, don’t we? It’s not a game for me. I’m not flirting, and I don’t think you are either. You make me want to be a different sort of man than I have been. My whole life I’ve been easy, relaxed, calm—rational. I’ve rejected conflict for reasonable and now I want to fight. For you. I find I care for you a great deal and I can’t keep my hands to myself when you’re near me. I get the feeling it’s the same for you, but I’m going to be a little insecure here. Your hesitation with me, it’s not my age, is it? We joke about it, and I know ten years is practically a generation, but that’s not the reason you pull back is it? It’s just the thing with your husband that worries you …’

She licked her top lip. ‘Your age? No. No. It’s … you have … your issues, I have mine. I destroyed something rare and precious and it’s almost like I have no right to have these jumbled up feelings the way I do with you. You confuse me. In a good way. I think. I care … I more than care, but some part of this does seem … unfaithful, which is really funny considering there’s no real reason why it should. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this, and at the same time I’m so ready I’m a stammering idiot around you. I’m not saying I don’t deserve it, but … I … I …’

Caroline wanted to be as forthright as he was, but while the tender words were there, they wouldn’t slip through the gateway at the bottom of her throat because the last time she’d uttered such a declaration things had drained away to thick, sucking, choking mud. ‘I just want to be like everyone else, but you make me feel different and that scares me.’ She put a palm over her eyes. ‘I don’t want to be different. I want to be the same.’

‘Caroline, please look at me.’

She dropped her hand and peered at him, wanting to know why this was so hard for her when everyone else made starting over look effortless. Things ended and began anew in a cycle and she was Persephone, clawing her way from the underworld to glimpse the new season, yet she couldn’t quite drag herself completely free of the darkness behind, and she desperately wanted William’s help.

She reached to stroke his cheek. ‘Why is this so difficult? Why is it so complicated, William?’ She turned away and looked out the curved, paned window behind his desk.

I’ll make it simple,’ Will said. ‘I’ll be as direct as I can. I’ll take what I can get. I’ll willingly put myself in this position.’ He wrapped his arms around her and drew her back against his body. ‘I don’t care if you are …’ he didn’t want to say,
married
. ‘I don’t care about the complications unless you do. And I think you do. It plainly makes a difference to you otherwise this wouldn’t be so hard. I like to do the right thing. I’ve been trying to do the right thing. There’s what I want to do and what I know I should do. So far what I want to do keeps winning, and at the moment all I can think about is Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn.’ He dropped his face into her hair. ‘He was older than her too … she was his woman on the side. The rest of it didn’t matter. I’ll be the man on the side. I can do that.’ He nuzzled into to her neck and inhaled her perfume, that lemon and verbena scent.

‘I’ve been so unaffected. Nothing’s touched me in such a long time. Nothing.’ Caroline murmured as he kissed behind her left ear.

‘Then let me. We don’t have to make love, just let me touch you.’

Caroline turned in his arms, eyebrows arched. That was a fantastic, astonishingly simple line, one worthy of a film starring Kevin Costner, but men like movie Kevin didn’t happen in real life. ‘Jesus, William, are you really this earnest or are you just trying to impress me with some kind of selfless, heroic, Kevin Costner type sexual sincerity?’

‘Maybe I’m just a little more grown up than the other men you’ve known.’

She looked at him with a puzzled frown, blinking as his index finger traced across her bottom lip, and she didn’t care if what he said was a line or if he was still enmeshed and in love with his ex-wife. Caroline wanted his affectionate, meaty white hands to ski across her skin, and she pressed into him again, touching his cheek once more.

Without even loosening his tie, he simply kissed her over and over, with slow deliberation that intoxicated them both.

She made a humming sound he liked hearing, and Will, every six-foot-three-inch of his frame finally feeling like James Bond, unzipped the back of her brown dress, slid it off her shoulders, and let it fall away, revealing more of her skin. His fingers roamed up her exposed back and her dress crumpled to the floor, landing across the tops of her toes. He lifted her clear of it with one arm and a step backward. When he set her down, he turned her, pressed her spine to his chest, and molded her body to his.

Caroline felt the muscles of his stomach contract, the pressure of his hips against her back and the heat of his thighs while he let his hands travel over her skin. Softly, so softly, he slipped down the straps of her bra and ran a palm beneath her breasts. His thumb brushed across her nipples as he kissed the part of her neck just above her collarbone.

She watched his big hands flow down her stomach until the tips of his fingers ran underneath the top edge of her pink bikinis. With an uneven breath she reached back with both hands to press him closer.

Fully dressed, Will sank with her to the green Persian rug beneath their feet, kissing her and touching her with nimble, gentle hands. With a caress, he began to lower the fabric of her panties, reveling in the sound of her breathing, knowing this time he wasn’t misreading a single cue because she burrowed her fingers into his him … and hummed.

‘You’re an unusual man, William.’ She clutched at him. One hand tickled over her ribs, her hips, the other slid down into hair that hadn’t been manicured to a strip or waxed off. He dipped between her thighs with a feathery touch and she jerked against him. ‘
Oh, I like that
.’

‘Good.’ Will liked it too. He
was
confident James Bond, caressing a nearly naked woman on a Persian rug on the floor of his office, instead of the dependable ex-husband his ex-wife relied on for a predictable tumble. His fingers skated into wet heat, stroking, playing. Her breath came fast and sharp. His did too. ‘I may look a little unusual, but I’m nothing special and I lied. My motives aren’t exactly selfless.’

‘They don’t have to be. You don’t have to be Kev …’ Caroline began and then all she managed was a funny, high-pitched sound. Will watched her body flush as pink as her undergarments. ‘
I like that too
.’

She pulsed beneath his wet fingers, the quiver pushing into the pads of his fingers. ‘I’m so glad,’ he said.

‘Then do it again.’ Caroline twisted and kissed him hard. Her hands trailed down the front of his shirt following the silkiness of his now-crooked tie down to his taut stomach, over his belt to the top of his trousers, and lower still. He was hard, so hard. ‘Tell me what you like. Tell me where you want my hands.’

She cupped him through his trousers and Will hummed. ‘Right about there is pretty good.’

‘Tell me what you want me to do.’

His fingers stopped exploring, the tip of his tongue halted tracing the outline of her lips, and her last statement exploded. The words reverberated, penetrated his desire, and his reply hadn’t a single sexual connotation because William Murphy spat out what he’d been holding in for so long, ‘Why, Caroline? I want you to tell me why you’re with a man like that. Why do you even try to put it back together? Why do you want to be with a man who refuses to touch you except to push you around?’

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