On The Dotted Line (14 page)

Turnabout
was fair play. He cupped his hand between her legs. “Yeah, well I thought you
said we weren’t having sex.”

“Who
says we’re having sex?” She betrayed her own words by bucking her hips.

With
no resistance, he slid a finger inside her. “You tell me.” He added a second.

“Damn
it.” She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

The
sight of her writhing beneath his touch was all he could stand. “Tell me you
love the way I touch you.” He continued to dole out his pleasure and using only
one hand practically tore himself out of the rest of his clothes.

“Randolph.”
Once free of his pants, she wrapped her hand around him and returned the favor.

“Tell
me.” He put his arm around her waist and sped up, wanting to bring her close.

Her
body shook. “Oh, God.”

“Tell
me you want me inside you.” He prodded her some more.

She
held her breath. Any second he could make her come.

In
an abrupt move, he stopped.

“Ah!”
Her knees went weak and she held on to him. “Now, Randolph.”

At
her plea, he held her to him, laid her down on the floor and entered her. Warm
and wet, she encompassed him, a metaphor for every second they had been
together.

She
sucked in her breath, and let out a little whimper.

Though
he wanted to continue the torture, tease her to show her what he could do to
her, he couldn’t resist and instead drove into her. Hard thrusts shooting
needed pleasure though him.

An
active lover, she kept up with him, her hips meeting his with every stroke,
their bodies colliding together. “Like that.”

“All
week I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He hooked his arm around one of her
legs, pulling it up and back, giving into his own primal urge to be deep inside
her. Damn if he didn’t want to ravish her.

“Don’t
stop.” She grasped his shoulders. “Randolph.”

“Do
you need to come?” His own desire accelerated, he sped up his strokes.

“Randolph!”

He
got his answer by how she screamed his name, how her body froze, but her core
rippled around him. Never had he felt a woman orgasm like his wife, her pulses
around him only served to edge him on. “Like that, baby.”

Unable
to slow down, he lowered his face to her neck, closed his eyes and relished in
the buildup. His breath ragged, he fought to inhale as his body climbed. He was
almost there. Almost. “Willow.” He broke out into a sweat. “Damn.”

She
wrapped her arms around him. “Let go.”

Her
breathy request was the last bit he needed. He propelled into her one last
time. “Yes!” Wracked with the first flood of release, his body went rigid.

“Come
on.” She held him tighter and continued to coax him on.

Another
wave hit, and another, ecstasy and satisfaction took over as his climax
continued. His tight muscles went weak, his body still resonating with the
ultimate pleasure.

“Randolph.”

“I
need a moment.” He didn’t want to be apart from her, didn’t want to move. All
he wanted to do was be right here. Right here on the hard wooden floor of
Willow’s shop.

“Take
your time.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “Learn to take your time.”

He
let out a laugh.

“Tell
me something about your art. Something no one knows.” Her whisper sent chills
through him.

“You
already know more than anyone.” He panted. “You tell me something about you.”

“I
can tell you that you can trust me that I will never say a word. Tell me
something that’s only mine.”

He
paused, concentrated on how he felt her heart beat. “One day I was driving and
got turned around and I began driving through some poorer neighborhoods and
noticed how some tried to make their area nicer with art. Then I saw a school
in a rundown area and thought it needed that touch.” With a little strength
finding him, he lifted his head. “I couldn’t get it out of my head and I came
back that night and made them a garden to look at instead.”

“Thank
you for telling me and thank you for my art.” She ran her fingers over his chin
and shook her head. “Promise that one day you’ll let me see you create
something.”

“Come
here.” He turned over and put her on top of him.

“Promise.”
She pushed herself up.

No
one ever took an interest in anything about him but his money. “I promise.”

Her
body melded into his and her hair fell around him. She lowered her head to his
chest. He closed his eyes and traced the outline of her ear with his fingertip.

She
moaned.

“Willow.”

“Yes.”
She shivered.

He
found his suit jacket and draped it over her. “I hated going home and not
finding you there.”

“Did
you miss me or were you scared I would foil your plans?”

“I
started out thinking the worst.” He shrugged. “Every bad scenario.”

She
raised her head. “And?”

“I
never came home to someone before. I don’t know.” He looked up at the ceiling,
noticing the fluorescent stars she must have stuck on the ceiling. “We can stay
here tonight, whatever you want.”

She
stared down at him. The stars behind her fit her to a tee. Unable to resist, he
leaned up and brushed his lips against hers. A soft kiss, the one he should
have given her before when she first came walking through the alley instead of
talking about insurance. “Don’t walk alone again, please. Call me and I’ll get
you.” Nothing he wanted to say would leave his mouth.

“You
can’t always look out for me.” She sat up. “I think we should go back to the
house.”

He
propped himself up on his elbows. “Why?”

“Though
I would love to sleep knowing my art is right here, Nan and Jeb are there, we
have a shower there, and our bed is really comfortable.” She stood and gathered
up their clothes.

“That’s
not what I asked.” He joined her and held his hand out stopping her dressing. “Who
said I couldn’t look out for you?”

She
handed him his shirt. “Our contract.”

Willow
stared into the flame of the candle trying to clear her mind, to focus on the
yellows and oranges, the flickers and the small bit of heat. Somewhere, there
had to be answers.

She
shut her eyes and swore she saw mountains. “You know, maybe we should go to
Sedona early.” Every year she and Nan went to the Sedona for the solstice to welcome
the light. The trip gave them renewal and a fresh start and was one of the one
true traditions she and Nan managed to keep. Only she needed to talk to
Randolph about the trip. They couldn’t be apart and she wasn’t sure how he
would take to being out in Arizona without his plentiful comforts of home.

“Maybe
someone should learn to sleep in her contracted bed.” In the four days since
she found Randolph’s shirt buttons scattered around the shop Nan hadn’t done
anything but bark at her.

Willow
opened her eyes. Maybe the images she saw behind her lids were only reflections
from the light. She snuffed out the candle, got up off the floor and returned
to the counter, turning through pages in Randolph’s calendar. They had a dinner
coming up next week with the Hartfords, marking her debut as Randolph’s wife. The
name rang familiar. It seemed as if someone from Randolph’s work called him at
home, he spat the word out, and if Peter happened to be around he would roll
his eyes.

“If
we go to Sedona I don’t have to plan this dinner.”

“Promises
are sacred no matter how you make them.” Nan didn’t even bother facing her. The
buttons didn’t upset Nan, nor did the sex. It was Willow’s mixed feelings about
what she did with Randolph in her shop. Nan always said sex was fine as long as
she didn’t regret the act. Willow wasn’t sure if it was regret or something
else.

She
ran her fingers along the cream colored pages, but the chime of a text message jolted
her. Unable to look she slid the phone down the counter. Even though she resisted,
Randolph took care of her. In record time he got the insurance, he got the
licenses, even got Jeb his license. The man, her husband, adored insurance,
licenses and paper as much if not more than art. Every night after dinner and
after he finished his work he sat with her and studied her business. Only the
other day, a shipment of her supplies arrived. Hell, he even insured the
shipment. She guessed it didn’t need a license.

Without
even thinking she returned the favor, or tried to in her own way. She brought
him tea, made him snacks, sat with him while he worked at night after he told
her it calmed him down, and even blended an aftershave for him that wouldn’t
sting his skin. Rather than letting him disappear in the morning, she joined
him for his coffee and tried to make sure he ate something before he started
his day.

Her
path led to nowhere, no matter where she turned only disaster stood on the
horizon. “We just need to go.” With their change in schedule came the texts,
little checkpoints throughout the day, a small gesture most spouses made to
each other. However, next year they wouldn’t be together, and she didn’t want
to miss the texts, watching him work or waking up with him.

In
the middle of the room, Nan plopped a candle and some incense down. The scent
of vanilla and roses filled the air, the scents used for love.

“Why
are you doing this?”

Before
Nan answered, the door to her shop opened and the space filled with late
afternoon sunlight, blinding her.

“There
she is!” A woman voice called out.

At
the sound of her mother-in-law’s voice, she straightened up and froze. The
woman was invading her safe place and her time of reflection.

The
door closed and Willow blinked to adjust her eyes and found another women and
an older man.

Lillian
put a shiny yellow shopping bag on the counter. No matter what time of day,
Randolph’s mother always looked exactly the same. A living fashion doll who
only changed her clothes. Even living with the woman Willow never spotted her
without makeup, impeccably dressed and salon-styled hair. The lavender dress
she wore fit her as if someone designed it with her in mind.

“So,
this is your little shop?” Lillian clasped her hands.

“Yes,
welcome.” Her throat dried out. Lillian Van Ayers didn’t really speak to her,
mostly she spoke around her, but at least after that first night she was never
nasty. Randolph’s mother seemed mostly interested in keeping her lifestyle and
appearances, and they learned to coexist in the mansion. However, having her
here was strange and off balance.

“We
saw the art.” Lillian smiled. “I was hoping there was a way to get it off the
building so we could take it home, but all the experts say that’s impossible
without destroying it.”

“Maybe
it should just stay where it is, since that’s where the artist wanted it.” She
wasn’t sure if her answer made sense, but then again she wasn’t sure about the
question.

“Do
you know the artist?” Lillian pointed to her ear.

“No,”
she whispered. Her husband’s secret was safe with her, she hadn’t even told Nan.

“I
bet it’s good for business.”

“It’s
not hurting.”

“She
is just as lovely as you said.” The other woman, a near carbon copy of Lillian
but with brunette hair and a blue colored dress, came forward.

Randolph’s
mother called her lovely? She didn’t think the woman could pick her out of a
crowd. “Thank you?”

“Oh
dear, where are my manners? Willow, dear, may I present to you Teresa Tuttle
and Sam Burns? Together they are T&B Couture, and I brought them here to
measure you and Nanette for the dresses you need for your wedding party.”
Lillian gave her silent clap. “Terry, Sam, this is my daughter-in-law, Willow.”

“Nice
to meet you.” Party. Yes, the party. His mother continued to talk about it every
time Willow saw her. Mrs. Van Ayers declared she had to do something to cover
up her son’s abrupt elopement, and somewhere she vaguely remembered nodding
when dresses were mentioned. It may have been around the time she was watching
Randolph do whatever Randolph did, which seemed like always. Unsure if parties
and dresses were included in her contract, and not wanting to check, she went
with the flow.

“And
of course, we need something for little Jebby.” Lillian picked up the bag.

Jeb
let out a bark and trotted out from the back.

“Oh
my God!’ Teresa squealed.

“Isn’t
he precious?” Lillian beamed, reached into her bag and pulled out a collar. A
bejeweled collar. “May I, Willow?”

Precious?
When did this take place? The brand logo dangling from the collar told her the little
bauble cost more than her monthly rent.

“Now,
we don’t put our paws up on Lulu.” Lillian bent down and wagged her finger at
Jeb.

Lulu?
Willow braced herself on the counter, trying to let the situation unfold rather
than take control. Maybe if she let the universe take over, everything would
even itself out.

Everyone
watched while Jeb sat as Lillian adorned him with the collar.

“When
you said you needed something for a dog, I had my doubts, but he owns it.” Sam
knelt down.

Jeb
lifted his head, as if showing off his new look.

Everyone
clapped.

Everyone
but Nan, the woman who taught her to accept it if someone decided to try to
make amends.

“This
store is incredible. I can already feel the good vibes.” Lillian seemed to
float around the small shop, flitting from one thing to another. She stopped in
front of the skin care, lifted a bottle of lotion and smiled at it. “You make
this?”

“Yes.”
Willow joined her. Maybe they found a bit of a common ground. She took the
tester bottle and held it out to Lillian. “All natural ingredients.”

Lillian
sniffed the bottle. “Oh it’s yummy.” She poured some on her hand and offered it
to the other woman.

They
both rubbed the lotion into their arms.

“This
would be perfect as favors for my Beverly Hills Women of Action luncheon. I’ll
take two hundred. I need them by next Friday and I don’t want the family
discount.” Lillian reached in her purse and handed her a black credit card
before continuing her self-guided tour of the store. “Make sure you attach your
business card to each bottle. Everyone will just die when they find out my daughter-in-law
creates lotion, just die.”

Two
hundred? Was she serious? She needed to call Randolph, she never made two
hundred of anything before. Also she didn’t have business cards. At her thought
she ground her teeth together. Randolph couldn’t be the first person she
thought to talk to about lotion or cards.

“Hello,
Nanette.” Lillian stopped at the candles and incense on the floor. “What’s all
this?”

“I
am creating an altar.”

“For
what?” Lillian asked in a singsong voice.

“Randolph
and Willow. They made love on this very spot and I wanted to commemorate the
moment.” Nan crossed her arms.

Willow
took a deep breath, vanilla and roses filling her sinuses. Nan decided to use
the location where her passion got the best of her to prove her point. She
wondered at what point she should return the credit card and hide.

“Well,
at this stage of their marriage there would be something wrong if they didn’t
make love everywhere they could.” She patted Nan’s shoulder. “One time Van and
I made love at the ninth hole at the country club. To this day he says he
always gets a birdie there.”

Everyone
laughed and Lillian returned to her. “I thought Willow would look gorgeous in
that champagne colored dress you showed at my charity fashion show. Who else
has worn it?” She took her phone out of her handbag, slid her fingers over the screen
and handed Willow her phone.

Willow
held back a gasp at the picture of a long, lanky dress, the kind she would see
on an award show on television. Dresses like those didn’t belong on her.

“It’s
only been worn at your show.” Sam tilted back on his heels. “We had a request
for it from Dr. Lawrence’s wife.”

“Oh
my. Willow dear, someone is forgetting who helped Sam with that nasty,
unfortunate incident with his credit two years ago.” Lillian put her hand to
her chest. “I think Van would be very unhappy to not see his brand new daughter-in-law
in this dress. It would make such a lovely wedding gift.”

“The
dress is worth over ten thousand dollars.” Teresa stepped forward.

She
didn’t own ten thousand dollars worth of anything let alone clothes.

“Oh,
it is, I have no doubt. Were you using it to barter for the good doctor’s
services?” Lillian cupped her hand over her mouth. “Dr. Lawrence is a plastic
surgeon.”

“I
am sure Dr. Lawrence and his wife will enjoy seeing the dress at Willow’s
party.” Teresa reached into her pocket and took out a tape measure. “On Willow.”

Willow
needed to wonder who the real deal maker was in the family. Damn if she didn’t
want the dress. Her life was all off kilter.

“Let
me get some preliminary measurements and then you can come to the shop for a
formal fitting.” Teresa approached and wrapped her tape measure around her
chest. “Thank God.”

“For
what?” Lillian glanced down at the number.

“Do
you know how many dresses I ruin trying to fit artificially large breasts into
my clothes?”

Sam
came over with a paper. “Very nice, Willow.”

The
door to the shop opened. Again the sun streamed in, hitting right in her
pupils. She shielded her eyes, but only made out a tall form.

“Well,
this is interesting.” Randolph’s voice rang through. “What going on?”

Her
husband’s cologne wafted over the incense. Earth and expense mixed with the
vanilla and roses made her light headed, but her vision cleared. Randolph came
over in his suit, his sky blue tie and his curls.

“Admiring
your wife’s natural chest.” Sam made a note on the paper.

Randolph
bent down, lifted his sunglasses and nodded at the number. He then leaned over
and gave her a kiss.

“What
are you doing here?” There were too many people in the shop. What used to be
calm, turned chaotic.

“Didn’t
you get my text?” He kissed her again. “I said I was picking you up and thought
we could go out to dinner.”

“Randolph!”
His mother came over. “I don’t know if you can be here.”

Teresa
moved the tape measure down to her waist.

“I
can say the same to you, mother.”

“I
don’t know if you should see Willow’s dress before the party.” She shooed him
away.

“Why
not, he’s seen her undressed on the floor of her shop.” Sam laughed.

Lillian
patted her son. “I am glad you and Willow have a good and active sex life. It’s
very important. Your father and I never had an issue in that area, still don’t.
It’s very good for the skin.”