Soft Sounds of Pleasure (19 page)

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Authors: Eden Connor

Tags: #contemporary erotic romance

BOOK: Soft Sounds of Pleasure
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"What did you do to her to make her feel she wasn't family?" Jonah yelled, his voice going up and down like the rusty, protesting seesaw Dan once had rigged up for him and Sarah out behind the farmhouse. His hands were clenched as he shoved past Colton, and turned for the hall, but he stopped, striking the closest wall with a fist. The blow seemed to drop his voice. "Because I'm sick and tired of you people telling me one day 'of course you'll always be friends' and a week or two from now when I ask to go see her, you tell me it's 'awkward' and buy me a new video game instead."

Colton promptly forgave Lila for her acerbic comments about not bringing fresh meat to his breakfast table, wondering at her wisdom. He shoved his keys into his front pocket with a rueful sigh. The last time he'd watched something so hard only to be fooled by the direction the thing had ended up taking had been that day he'd first asked Lila to help him learn to catch. Someone needed to market padding for parenthood the way they did for baseball catchers.

The nurse had warned him the cortisone injection the doctor had ordered to help manage the inflammation in Jonah's arm might make him grouchy for a few days, but Colton had a hunch that the overheard comment had only lowered the kid's inhibitions, allowing him to say what was really on his mind. "It's complicated." He sighed, as he closed the front door and headed straight for the kitchen. He was hungry, dammit, and this kind of conversation called for bacon. Lots and lots of bacon. "Nobody ever told Lila she wasn't family. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I wanna know what's so damn complicated!" The kid's voice skidded upward an octave, underscoring Jonah's distress. "I'm sick and tired of hearing that, so someone needs to give me some credit and dish out the four-one-one. I'm not a damn baby." His rollercoaster voice proved the point.

Colton jerked opened the fridge and grabbed the carton of eggs and a chunk of cheddar cheese, thinking about what to say. "Sometimes," he explained, as he washed his hands, "sometimes Lila's still Pete's wife. She probably got upset since she'd have most likely spent a lot of time in the hospital with Pete. She just needed some time to herself."

He'd had to slay a demon or two in the Emergency Room himself, as he'd stared around at all the vivid reminders of the accidents the four De Marcos had had over the years, including some visits where the "accidents" had been not-so-accidental. Wishing there was a treatment for his guilt over allowing Reggie to put the game ahead of Jonah's welfare.

For once, he hoped she had been thinking of Pete, and not the way he'd ignored her very good advice.

The scraping sound of a barstool being dragged from under the bar told him the kid had an appetite, even though Colton had his head in the pantry, gathering up every box of microwave bacon he could find.

"This had better not be about that nurse I saw you talking to, 'cause I ain't never gonna be nice to some dumb chick that wears teddy bear pants to work." It was as if Jonah's voice jerked Colton's emotions along for the ride, cracking like the eggs he tapped on the edge of a bowl and whisked hurriedly, but the short brunette was the least of their problems.

"Miss Teddy Bear Pants is named Brandy, and the four-one-one on her is that she used to date your Uncle Eric. After he stopped seeing her, she blew up his phone so bad, E got a new number." Colton grabbed the peppermill. "He's been pissing me off making jokes about Lila being older than me, so…" he tried a wink on the kid as he worked the pepper mill with harsh twists of his wrist, "I traded his new number to her for a decent cup of coffee from the nurses' lounge."

Jonah blinked twice then chuffed out a laugh, but as Colton diced up the cheese, the teenager pursued his point the way Daniel's bird dog went after a covey of quail. "We'll see Lila today, then? Or we'll call her, or something?"

Colton fogged the frying pan with non-stick spray and dumped in the eggs. "We'll see her."

Pain skipped across Jonah's face as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat, narrowing his eyes. "Well, she saw you talking to that nurse too, so I'm thinking we'd better be holding a burger from Ike's. And here's some four-one-one for you. Lila's always gonna be
Pete's wife
unless you ask her to be something else."

Colton began ripping open packs of sliced pork.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The realtor arrived bright and early Saturday morning. Lila liked the woman immediately. She introduced herself as Mina and examined every inch of the house appreciatively. "Why are you interested in selling?" she inquired as the tour ended.

Lila explained her situation briefly. "I've loved this house for seventeen years, but my husband died and my son joined the military. It's too much house and yard and too many memories. Besides," she added in disgust, "no matter what I need, it's on the other floor."

Mina was making notes. "So, you're looking for something smaller, one-story, at least two bedrooms for when your son visits, and not much yard to worry about, right? Something newer, maybe, with fewer maintenance concerns?"

The salesman in Lila could appreciate the way Mina saw not one, but two opportunities in this situation. "Yes, but I need a big garage or outbuilding too. For more than one vehicle, since I use it for my furniture." She explained her hobby/career to Mina, who looked impressed.

Mina offered her the listing contract, suggesting Lila look it over while the sales agent returned to her office to look at some comparable homes that had recently sold in her area. Lila skimmed through the boilerplate; she'd already spoken to her attorney. Mina promised to return later in the day with a completed contract and a sign for the front yard.

Amy walked in the back door, prompting Mina to exit that way. "You need to have the ramp removed," her new realtor said in a matter-of-fact tone before dashing to her car.

* * * *

"I just wanted to kill him, Lila." Amy and her boyfriend were having a fight. That had been the main topic as Lila had dragged her friend up and down every row at the flea market, an outing Amy had agreed to as she'd driven Lila home from the hospital the night before.

"The man's knuckles must bleed from dragging the ground when he walks." Amy was now referring to her future father-in-law, Lila figured. "He's so damn old-fashioned he makes my teeth hurt. You know Drew's mother has cancer, right?" Lila nodded, as she saw anger sparking in Amy's brown eyes the way the hot sun sparkled off the mica embedded in the asphalt under their feet. Amy had mentioned several times that Drew's mother had a highly treatable form of cancer. At the moment, Lila thanked her stars there wasn't going to be a pop quiz later about what kind of cancer the poor woman had, because all she'd been thinking about was what Dr. Ellis had found after he looked at the scans he had made of Jonah's arm.

Realizing where her thoughts had wandered, Lila felt like stabbing something with the nice set of pearl-handled seafood implements that caught her eye. If she couldn't stop thinking about Colton and Jonah, she was going to crack like the crustaceans these were designed for mauling. She'd allowed herself to become much too attached to the pair. Inhaling deeply, she dragged her attention back to what Amy was saying, as she nodded to the lady standing behind the table, raising the fitted box of implements, along with her eyebrows.

"So Drew's dad sits on his fat ass on the days his mom takes her treatments and when she staggers out of the bathroom after throwing up, he asks her what she's fixing for supper." Amy was so upset she was practically foaming at the mouth. Her cheeks were so attractively colored by her indignation Lila wished for the millionth time that Amy would outgrow her tomboy ways and break down and use some makeup. "Drew defended him! He says his dad is 'just' from the generation that believes cooking is women's work. To hear Drew tell it, you'd think if his dad had to heat his own bowl of soup his dick would fall off."

The backhanded humor got Lila's attention. "Being an ass doesn't have anything to do with the generation gap." Such a fundamental difference in beliefs didn't bode well for Amy's future with Drew, but Lila bit her tongue. She and Pete had overcome similar obstacles.

Amy was still fuming. "And there are times when Drew opens his damn mouth, I swear, Lila, it might as well be his father talking and I just want to slap him."

Lila grinned for the first time all day. How many times had Pete parroted something Joan believed and made Lila mad because she felt he hadn't thought the matter through enough to come up with his own opinion?

Quite a few times over the years.

Lila made a wry face as she dug out the same six worn one-dollar bills she'd nearly coughed up to buy a shirt for Colton and exchanged them for the beautiful box. As she tucked her treasure into her bag, she spied a small electric chain saw and grabbed the handle on top. She brandished it with a grin, hoping to make Amy laugh. "I figured out early on that you have to focus on hearing the small sounds of pleasure in your relationship. If those happy notes can drown out the crazy voice in your head singing a little song I like to call '
I'm Gonna Grab a Chainsaw and Kill You and Your Mother Too,
' on the bad days, then it's gonna last."

Amy gratified her by laughing, knowing enough about Lila's relationship with Joan to get her offbeat humor. "Who sings this song?" she spluttered, as Lila returned the little saw to the table with a small shake of her head at its hopeful owner.

Lila grinned again. "Meat Loaf. Who else could sing a rock opera about a chain saw murder?"

Amy sobered, and two tiny lines appeared between her brows. "What?"

Lila massaged away the lines on her own forehead with the back of her wrist. "Amy, I'm gonna push you into the generation gap and shovel gravel on top of you," she warned her young friend in exasperation. "Not what; who. Do not tell me you've never heard of Meat Loaf. He's famous, dammit."

Amy's dark head bobbed as her entire body shook with merriment as a section of tables laden with fresh produce caught Lila's eye. "I know who Meat Loaf is. It's the other part that has me confused."

"What 'other part'?" Lila propelled Amy toward a pile of melons.

"You mean…" Amy made a furtive glance around the busy flea market and leaned toward Lila. Her voice was just above a whisper. "…orgasms? When I'm mad at him, you expect me to remember the sounds he makes when he comes?" Louder now, "How's that gonna help anything?"

"Um, no." Lila shook her head, scrunching up her nose as she tried to think of a better explanation as she began sorting through the heavy fruit. "I'm not talking about sex. I'm talking about the sound the universe makes in your head when you experience pure joy." Under her thick bangs, Amy's intelligent brown eyes were blank. The hair hanging in Amy's eyes reminded her of Jonah. Lila heaved a sigh, shifting the straps of her bag higher on her shoulder, wishing she hadn't bought the set of stoneware platters first thing. They were gorgeous, but each one weighed about a half a pound, and twelve of them were turning her into a sweating Tower of Pisa. Amy still appeared lost.

"Think about the times when you snuggle into his arms on a cold night and your feet start to thaw because he lets you put them on his, or when you've just driven through a terrible thunderstorm but now he's got his arms around you and sheer happiness just hums in your head. I'm talking about
that
sound."

Amy shook her head slowly, concentration etched on her face. "Not a clue."

Frustrated, Lila shifted the bag yet again, trying to give her shoulder a bit of relief. How could her friend claim to be in love and yet never have heard that cosmic chord of pure bliss that one special man could elicit?

The watermelon slipped from her frozen fingers and fell to the asphalt with a thud, cracking open. Lila's eyes were riveted to the juices trickling from the rosy flesh as she wrestled with what she'd just admitted.

She'd spent seventeen winters torturing a tolerant Pete with her frigid feet, but there'd been more than one day when Lila thought Pete's knuckles were dragging the ground when he'd laughed at her for being scared to drive in the rain.

As she looked up in dismay, she could tell from the young woman's rounded mouth and eyes Amy knew that too. A questionable corollary benefit of widow-sitting was getting the odd story about the times the dearly departed had pissed her off. And one of Amy's beloved "deets" had been the tale of how Colton had rocked her in the rain.

* * * *

"You fell for him, didn't you?" Amy demanded, as concern and delight for Lila wiped away her irritation with Drew. "I knew you would."

Lila sighed. "I did. I dunno how it happened, really, but I blame it on that damn kid he used for bait."

"You don't think he feels the same way about you?" Amy asked sympathetically. She didn't spend a second thinking about irony as she morphed into protective mode. It was fine for Lila to use the dude for sex, but if he'd used Lila when she was vulnerable and then broke her heart, Amy was gonna… do something really mean to him. Like tell people he had herpes. Based on the few deets Lila had shared, this felt wrong to her. He had to be a real lowlife if he'd led Lila around emotionally.

Lila wouldn't look at her, bending to pick up the pieces of shattered melon. "The morning after my birthday party, he said our relationship wasn't casual for him."

"Then what's the problem?" Amy demanded, relieved she wasn't going to be forced to tell such a damaging lie.

"For how long?"

Amy blinked. Nothing Lila had said all morning made a bit of sense. "You lost me, for how long, what?"

The elaborate cringe Lila made as she tossed the melon bits into a nearby barrel was likely caused by her grammar, but Lila was equally confused, judging from her reply. "I mean, lightning bolts and mockingbirds, Amy."

The pair of grooves reappeared between Amy's dark brows as she dragged the heavy bag off Lila's shoulder and slung it over her own. "Can I buy a vowel or phone a friend?"

Lila began sorting through the green-striped globes again. "He's not quite thirty, Amy. The best part of his life is still ahead of him. If he's lucky, he'll fall in love, the-for-now-and- forever kind. Get married, make a bunch of babies every bit as beautiful as him." It had been a while since Amy had seen this sort of misery on Lila's face. "All that's behind me."

"People have been known to get married twice, Lila." She added fiercely, "And the best part of your life is not over, dammit."

Lila just looked sad and shook her head, and her lips trembled as she pressed them together, but she said nothing more. "What makes you think he wants a baby?" Amy demanded. "Most men don't go around mooning for one, you know. Babies are like shirts, they want the ones we give them, if we're lucky."

Lila snorted at her analogy, if that's what it was called. Amy might not know a metaphor from a simile, but she knew Lila had something on her mind besides babies when she merely said "okay" and picked up another melon, promising the anxious-looking vendor she'd also pay for the one she'd dropped.

"Spit it out," she demanded. Lila's mood had been as blue as her eyes all morning. "If it's not really babies you're worried about, then what?"

Lila dug for the fold of cash in her back pocket. "Lightning bolts. Lightning never strikes twice in the same place. I'm the one that's likely falling into the generation gap, Amy. Your generation probably has some new meaning for 'not casual' that I've never heard of… kinda like 'deets' and 'tweets'. Besides—" Lila placed four crumpled ones on the table. She moved to her front pockets and fished for the two quarters she still needed "I got lucky with Pete. He pissed me off sometimes, but I knew he loved me. He never looked at another woman. I knew that the way I know my own name, he just never looked, and neither did I." Lila plunked down one quarter and dipped into the opposite pocket. "How realistic is it to think I'd get just as lucky a second time? I haven't dated anyone else, so I think the odds are against me finding that same forever kind of man again my first time out of the gate after Pete, don't you?"

Amy picked up the quarter. "I'll give it back," she said, exasperated when Lila looked at her hard. Sitting the quarter atop her fist she flipped it into the air with her thumb. "Call it," she ordered, snatching the coin out of mid-air as it fell. She slapped the disc onto the back of her hand, leaving it covered as she stared at her friend. "You need a math lesson, Lila. I bet you're one of those people who believe if this quarter comes up heads the first time, then it's more likely to come up tails the next."
The man who'd rocked Lila to sleep when he'd come over expecting sex wasn't using her friend
, she decided.

"Well, duh." Lila snorted. "Everybody knows that." She pointed to a ragged dresser made of dark wood. "Dammit, why did I let you talk me into letting you drive?"

Amy blew out an exasperated breath as she looked at the woman who saw potential in a ratty old chest of drawers with mildew creeping up the side like some sort of toxic vine but couldn't see something as plain to Amy as the orchid on Lila's kitchen table. "Because I'm into probabilities and I'm too young to die. Dammit yourself, pay attention, Lila. This is one math lesson you need."

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