Passionate Pleasures (18 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Passionate Pleasures
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“But he didn’t,” Tim said, seeing the sadness in her eyes.
“No, he didn’t. He and Ben Kimborough were the two men from here killed in that war. No one knew that we had been serious about each other. I never even told Mavis, who has been my best friend since we were five,” she said. “So I just kept my secret. And then I became what was expected of me. It hasn’t been so awful. I have my cottage, an income from the family trust, a job I love.”
“All that’s missing for you is a cat,” he joked.
“Hey, we have a library cat,” she shot back.
“I think I need to kiss you again,” Tim said.
“Hey, no pity kisses,” she told him.
“The only one who is going to be pitied is me, if you don’t kiss me,” he replied.
“Well,” Kathryn said, “you do have a certain charm, Principal Blair.”
“Flattery will get you a helluva long way with me, Kathy.” He chuckled, and pulled her close again, his lips meeting hers.
She felt dizzy with pleasure and murmured approval as his tongue met her tongue, stroking it slowly, languidly. She couldn’t believe how new and exciting this all felt, considering her years of adventures in The Channel, yet it did. His fingers spread themselves into her soft red-gold hair as he held her face in his hands. She met him kiss for kiss for kiss. And after the surprise of the initial invasion of his tongue had dissipated, her own tongue grew active.
When she began to actively participate in their love play Tim’s heart jumped, and suddenly he was getting very hard, very fast. It was like being eighteen again, and that was quite a shock to him. He realized if they kept this up they were both going to want more than either of them was really willing to give at this moment. And come morning, they wouldn’t be real friends any longer. He didn’t want that. He wanted her, but he wanted her when she was ready to commit to more than a casual “friends with benefits” relationship with him. But this wasn’t the time. And where did all these thoughts come from? Was he even ready to begin another relationship? And with a woman who was years older than he was? And a member of a prominent local family?
He gently released his hold on her. “I don’t want to go too fast,” he said.
For a moment she looked a little bemused, but then she laughed. “You’re right, but I was really enjoying myself, Timothy Blair. You are one terrific kisser.”
“I’m pretty out of practice, Kathy,” he told her.
“Kissing, sex, it’s like riding a bicycle,” she heard herself quoting Nicholas. “Once you start again it all comes back to you.”
Now he laughed. “I suppose you’re right,” he agreed. “But if I continue to kiss you, Kathy, I’m going to want to put you on your back, and move on to other delights.”
“I think we need to wait a little bit for that,” Kathryn said. “Besides, if you stay much longer Rowdy will start to howl and waken the entire neighborhood. You’ll have to leave him home next time, Tim.”
“Or we could go to my place,” he suggested. His dick was beginning to retreat. He stood up. “I’d better go before I compromise you. Hallock would never forgive me.”
“No,” she agreed reluctantly, “he wouldn’t.” She stood up too. “I’ll walk you to the door, Principal Blair,” Kathryn said demurely, and she did.
“Good night, Miss St. John,” he said, and he gave her a quick final kiss.
“Good night,” Kathryn replied.
A dog barked somewhere in the night.
“Oh Lord!” Tim Blair said, and turning, raced for his car.
Kathryn burst out laughing. She didn’t know if it was Rowdy who had barked, but it was funny nonetheless.
The next day was Halloween, and Kathryn went back to the Harvest Festival. There was a costume competition for the younger children that year that the library was sponsoring, and she had agreed to be a judge. To everyone’s delight she spent over twenty dollars trying to hit the target that would dump Dr. Sam into a vat of lime green Jell-O. Three tries for two dollars. But Kathryn never even came near to putting the beloved town doctor into the green goop. He teased her as he sat upon his perch.
“No wonder you never made the High School girls’ softball team. You pitch like a girl, Kathy St. John.”
“I
am
a girl!” she shouted back, tossing a ball, which fell short of the target and landed in the Jell-O.
“Nah, you’re an old lady. That’s it! You pitch like an old lady!” he taunted.
“I am not an old lady,” Kathy said indignantly. But despite the trash talk, she could not get him off his perch until Ashley Mulcahy came up behind her and murmured to her to pitch her ball a little lower and to the left. Kathryn did, and hit the target dead center.
A bell rang, and the look on Dr. Sam’s face was priceless as he was pitched into the Jell-O, but he came up laughing. “You had help, you library vixen!” he shouted.
Kathryn danced a very undignified victory dance. “Thanks, cousin,” she said to Ashley, who laughed.
“He’s sat up there all day, and no one got him,” Ashley said. “Doctor won’t let me do stuff like that since I’m so far along. He was feeling pretty smug and safe without me this year.” She chuckled.
As it was near time for the Harvest Festival to end, Dr. Sam peeled off his jumpsuit and came around to greet both women. “Couldn’t resist the chance, Mrs. Mulcahy, could you?” He chortled. “I almost got through the whole day.”
“Hey, Dr. Sam, Kathy is my cousin. I had to help her,” Ashley said, grinning.
“I’ll never be able to do it again,” Kathryn told him.
“Probably not,” Dr. Sam agreed gleefully as she swatted at him.
November was upon them now. The trees were almost stripped bare of their leaves, the glorious October color now gone. The days grew shorter. And everyone in town suddenly knew that Principal Timothy Blair was courting Miss Kathy. Mostly they went out on Friday and Saturday nights, just like dating kids. From kissing they had progressed to old-fashioned petting, and Kathryn looked forward to each and every date.
She invited him to Sunday dinner one week. He reciprocated the following week.
And then one morning in his office he received a surprising call.
“Mr. Blair, this is Debora St. John, Hallock’s wife. How are you?”
“Quite well, Mrs. St. John. How may I help you?” he replied, curious.
“Oh no, this isn’t about the children,” Debora quickly said. “I was wondering if you would come to Thanksgiving dinner. Kathy is coming, and we would be so pleased if you would join us too. Nothing fancy, of course. Just an ordinary Thanksgiving.”
Tim doubted Thanksgiving at the St. Johns was ordinary.
Ordinary
was not a word he would associate with either Kathy or her brother. “I would be absolutely delighted to come for Thanksgiving dinner,” he heard himself say. “What time would you like me?”
“Four o’clock would be lovely,” she answered. “I’m so glad you’re coming!”
And she did sound glad, which touched him. “See you then, Mr. Blair.” She rang off.
It was an excuse to call Kathy. He punched in her number.
“Egret Pointe Public Library, Mavis speaking.”
“Mavis, Tim Blair. Is Kathy there?”
“Hey, handsome,” Mavis cooed. “Sure, I’ll put you through.”
Two rings.
“Kathryn St. John speaking.”
“Hey,” he said. “Your sister-in-law just invited me to Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Good grief,” she replied. “It would appear you have been accepted, and in record time, I might say. Debora would not have invited you without Hallock’s okay.”
“How fancy?” he asked her.
“Jacket and tie,” she told him. “But it doesn’t have to be a suit.”
“Why don’t I pick you up?” he suggested. “No need for us to take two cars, is there? What’s the parking situation at your brother’s house like?”
“Minimal,” she said. “Yes, pick me up. What time did Debora say?”
“Four,” he replied.
“Pick me up at four then. It’s just five minutes to the St. John manse,” Kathryn told him. “We’ll be considered right on time.”
“How’s the Christmas Book Fair coming along?”
“Pretty good actually. We’ve got several committees of very dedicated people this year. Making it Dickensy to fit in with the merchants’ shop décor this year has met with a great deal of enthusiasm from everyone,” Kathryn said. She paused. “Could I get you to participate, Tim?”
“How?” He had actually wanted to be part of her event, but he hadn’t known how to ask her, or if asking her would have been considered forward.
“I don’t want to have a Santa Claus. It’s not in keeping with the fair’s theme. But I would love it if you would be the ghost of Christmas Present. We would set you up on a large throne surrounded by Christmas décor. You would appear several times during the fair, seat yourself, and read a Christmas story to the children. Then you would hand out sugar plums to each child when you were finished. We need a big man for the part, and you’re a big man.”
“I’ll do it!” he said enthusiastically. “It’s a wonderful idea, Kathy.”
“Thanks,” she said. “For the compliment, and for helping out.”
“Want to go for ice cream after dinner tonight?” he asked her.
“Only if you come and share supper with me. Mrs. Bills is making her mac and cheese, which is wonderful.”
“I’d love it,” he said. “What time?”
“Six, Principal Blair,” she teased him. “It’s a school night.”
“See you at six then,” he said, ringing off.
Kathryn called her house. Mrs. Bills answered. “Is the mac and cheese enough for two?” she asked. “Mr. Blair is going to have supper with me.”
“Of course it’s big enough for two, but don’t expect any leftovers. That man has a grand appetite. I’ll make a bigger salad, and get a bit of ham, dear. Shall I do baked apples for dessert?”
“He’s taking me to Walt’s,” Kathryn said.
Mrs. Bills chuckled. “I thought the man was courting you. My goodness, dear, he’s every bit as discreet as you are.”
“It’s just ice cream, Mrs. Bills,” Kathryn said, glad the woman couldn’t see her pink cheeks. “Frankly I’d rather have your baked apples.”
“I’ll do some, and you can have them for breakfast,” Mrs. Bills said. “If that’s all, I’ll ring off, Miss Kathy.”
“Bye,” Kathryn said. Then she smiled to herself. Oh hell, why not admit it? He was courting her. But to what end? Just to get into her pants? Or did the man have marriage in mind? And did she want to get married at age forty-eight? She was used to her cottage, and doing things the way she wanted to do them, and when she wanted to do them. She was too old for children now, so what was the point of marriage? Companionship in her fast-approaching old age? Ewwww! That sounded terrible.
Sex. That seemed to be the only reason to let Timothy Blair court her. She hadn’t screwed around with a real man in years. Fyfe MacKay might look human, but he wasn’t, so she didn’t count him. But maybe she should. And at The Channel Corporation’s island spa, she wasn’t in danger of being discovered being a very wanton woman. Fyfe had been like all her lovers in The Channel, and she knew why he had seduced her. He wanted what his Uncle Nicholas had had at one time. And she had so enjoyed letting him have it.
She had always loved being in charge in The Channel, but she knew in real life it was unlikely she was going to be in charge. Or could she be? She wasn’t going to know until she tried it again for real. And right now reality was all she had left, because Nicholas had revoked her Channel privileges. Had he ever done that to anyone else? But even if she saw him again and asked him, it wouldn’t change things for her.
She had to stop obsessing over this. What was going to happen was going to happen. She was the town librarian, who was dating the Middle School principal. Everyone seemed to think it was a terrific thing. Even her older brother approved. But of course it would never occur to Hallock that his sister might want to get her brains fucked out, and that the Middle School principal was giving all indications of being more than willing to oblige her. Hallock saw a proper St. John woman, and a most respectable man who socialized in an accepted manner.
Kathryn was actually quite surprised that her brother was being so amenable about Timothy Blair. She wondered exactly what Hallock’s motive was. There would be a motive, she knew. Debora would know something. Kathryn picked up the phone and called her brother’s house.
Debora answered. “The St. John residence. This is Mrs. St. John speaking.”
“Hey, Deb,” Kathryn said. “I just got a phone call from Tim Blair. He’s tickled to death you invited him to Thanksgiving dinner. Now tell me why.”
Debora St. John didn’t mince words. “Hallock checked him out, Kathy.”
“My brother did what?” Kathryn was a bit taken aback.
“Hallock has friends in the city. He wanted to know personal stuff, not just all the résumé stuff. Did you know your boyfriend is a rich man?”
“No,” Kathryn said slowly. “I know he’s a nice man.”
“Well, he’s also rich. His father was one of the founding partners in his law firm. When he retired they bought him out for five million dollars with the proviso that they got to keep his name on the masthead. And the co-op Tim’s selling,” Debora said. “Another five million, and only because the real estate market is still down, and he was decent enough to agree to a price now instead of just renting and waiting for the market to go up again. And his family is very well thought of in certain circles. They go back to 1634 on both sides. They came to the section of the Massachusetts Bay Colony that’s now Maine. Hallock is very impressed by all of this knowledge, but please don’t tell him I told you. He says any man that you ever dated that he liked you dropped like the guy was on fire.”
Kathryn laughed. “Well, that’s a truth for certain, Deb. Somehow getting Hallock’s seal of approval always had the effect of turning me off,” she admitted.
“Do you think you might be interested in marrying him one day?” Debora asked.

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