2 Queenie Baby - Out of Office (17 page)

"So Vice-President Biden, who has been asked by the President to investigate gun violence, was serving rolls at a hunting fundraiser?" Mark asked.

I nodded. "Guess what they auction off every year to raise money?"

Mark raised his eyebrow.

"Hunting rifles," I said.

"Wow," he replied. "Gotta love small town politics."

"We grew up country. Guns were a part of the landscape. There was always a loaded rifle on our back porch just in case. But that wouldn't be PC today," I said.

"Just in case of what?" he asked.

"In case of squirrel," I replied with a laugh.

"Your dad doesn't look like a squirrel man," Mark said. We both looked over at my dad in his 'Kiss the Cook' apron.

"No, it was my mom's gun," I said.

"That explains it."

"So has my crazy family scared you off yet?"

He leaned down and kissed me. I felt all fluttery inside. How did he do that?

"Not a chance."

The ride back to Annapolis got off to a rocky start. Sally was afraid of car rides, and it took Dan, Mark and a hotdog to get her into the back seat. Max did not look happy to have company; I think he was tired of Sally the Scaredy Cat. They finally settled down and drifted off into doggie dreamland just as we crossed The Narrows. I had spent many a summer evening playing at the deck bars and restaurants that dotted the narrow strip of land a few miles east of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Mark and I chatted about school, old friends, and wacky relatives. It sounded like his kin were almost as interesting as mine.

It was after nine when we pulled up to my condo. I saw my downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Kester's, curtain move slightly. Not a good sign, I thought. The last thing I needed was another run in with that old bat. While Mark carried in my luggage, I took the dogs for a quick walk around the block. Max trotted confidently at my side while Sally alternately cowered and strained at the leash at each new sound and smell. I tried to sneak past Mrs. Kester's door, but Sally caught a whiff of something and started barking like crazy. For such a wimp, Sally had an impressive bark.

"Woof! Woof!" she barked as I tugged at her leash trying to get her up the stairs.

But Sally wasn't having any of it. She was determined to bark down Mrs. Kester's door. There was a rustling, and then Mrs. Kester's weathered face appeared in the crack.

"Shut that dog up before I call the pound!" she yelled.

Sally continued to bark and began pawing at Mrs. Kester's door.

Mark appeared on the landing in front of my door and motioned me inside. I pointed at Sally.

He came downstairs and grabbed her leash, giving it a hard tug. Sally didn't notice. She was determined to get inside Mrs. Kester's condo.

"I said to shut that dog up!" she repeated.

"I'm trying, Mrs. Kester. I don't know why she's acting this way," I said, pushing Sally's nose away from the crack in the door. "I think you'll have to pick her up," I said to Mark.

Mark gave me a look that said I'd owe him yet another one.

"I promise to make it worth your while," I joked in a hushed voice.

There was a snort from behind the door. "Not the first time she's said that, I'm sure," said Mrs. Kester, getting her dig in.

"You be quiet!" I shot back at her.

Sally was cut off in mid-bark when Mark grabbed her around the middle and hoisted her over his shoulder. No easy feat with an eighty-pound Lab. Her legs stuck out awkwardly, and she stared at me in surprise. Max looked at her like she was an insult to the dog world. No self-respecting dog would act like that.

"What was all that about?" Mark asked as he sat Sally down on my living room floor. She sniffed skittishly around the furniture before heading for the kitchen. Max was already on his perch looking out the window.

"The old witch probably has dead bodies in there."

Mark laughed. "I feel sorry for her."

"Well, don't," I replied. "She makes it a living hell here most days."

"Don't get all riled up." He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me. "I seem to remember some promise of making it worth my while."

He nibbled at my lips, and I melted into his arms. A few minutes later, the nibbling had turned into a full blown make-out session.

"I also seem to remember a nice-looking bed being around here somewhere," Mark teased between kisses.

"Yes, but I need a bath before I climb between the sheets with you."

"Got room for two?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope, this is a plain-Jane condo. But I hear Mrs. Kester has a bathroom like the Taj Mahal. Maybe you'd like to try her tub?"

"Next time," he said, swatting my bottom.

"If you want to jump in the shower first, I'll open a bottle of wine and start some laundry."

"Deal." He kissed me hard, taking the opportunity for some more fondling.

I bustled around the kitchen for a few minutes, thinking about getting back into my daily routine. I was due at Mr. Pyres at ten, and I was planning to stop by to see Carol at Greene's Staffing on my way. I also still had a big fat check in my purse. I needed to cash that sucker before Phil and Roger changed their minds.

Mark came out wearing only a towel. He looked so good, I was temporarily distracted from thoughts of what I would do with all that money. All I could think about was what I'd do with all that man. I stepped up and nuzzled his cheek.

"Do I pass the sniff test?" he asked.

"Always," I replied. "It ought to be against the law for a man to smell as good as you."

He shook his head. "You say the strangest things."

"I can't be the first woman to tell you how good you smell," I insisted.

He thought about it for a second. "Yes, you are. Don't get me wrong. I've had compliments from women. But none of them have followed me around sniffing me." He laughed. "Not that I mind it."

"Well, I don't know how that can be. I must be special." I took one last appreciative sniff before heading to the bathroom, making sure to grab my wine glass on the way.

"Oh, you're special alright."

I shot him a look. "Don't give me any sass. You want to see me naked, right?"

He gave me an irreverent thumbs-up.

I giggled. I loved his silly side.

My bath lasted only as long as it took to finish my wine. I was relaxed bordering on sleepy when I climbed from the tub. I slipped on a silky robe and padded out to the living room. The lights were low. Mark was stretched out on the couch asleep, wearing only a pair of old sweat pants. Max was curled up at his feet. Sally was sprawled out on the floor next to him, her head stuffed under the couch.

I tried to step over Sally. I had this picture of me snuggling up against Mark on the couch. But as soon as I made a move to step over her, Sally jumped, hit her head on the bottom of the couch and started yelping. Mark stirred and opened one eye.

"You're not exactly stealthy."

"I would've been if this idiot dog wasn't in the way." I pushed Sally away from the couch. She skulked away with her tail down.

I climbed up on the couch with Mark, and Max started to growl.

"You get down, bad boy!"

Max gave me another growl. This was a stand off.

Mark ended it by shoving Max off the couch with his foot. Max was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. He gave us both an evil glare and jumped up to his window perch.

Mark patted the couch next to him.

A big yawn escaped my mouth as I leaned down to kiss him.

"How romantic," he chuckled.

I covered my mouth. "Nothing personal. Just a long day."

"Does this mean I'm not gonna see you naked tonight?"

I stood up, loosening my robe.

"Let me ease your mind on that front," I said, letting the robe fall to my feet.

He raised a brow and sat up on the couch. I had his attention. 

His warm hands slid over my body, pulling me onto his lap. His lips touched mine and traced a lazy path to my breasts. A fire spread through me as he led me over to a wooden kitchen chair. I wasn't sure how the chair was better than the couch, but never let it be said that I'm not adventurous.

He sat down in the chair and smiled up at me.

"Wasn't the couch more comfy?" I asked, as he pulled me against him and buried his head between my breasts.

He looked up at me with a mischievous smile. "I've been admiring the kitchen chairs since you went to take your bath."

Huh? I'd never heard of a kitchen chair fetish, but I'd play along. "Maybe you were thinking of something along these lines?" I said kneeling down in front of him, adding, "You must
really
like kitchen chairs."

His quick intake of breath answered my question.

"I like the way you think," he murmured a few moments later. "But I had something more like this in mind."

He pulled me onto his lap. Face to face with everything perfectly matched. My bare feet found traction on the rail at the bottom of the chair. Nice.

"I really like the way you think," I whispered against his lips.

*  *  * 

Mark grimaced as he took a sip of coffee.

"It can't be that bad," I said and threw a dish towel at him. What was wrong with my coffee? I must not make it up to man standards.

"It can be, and it is." He set his cup down on the counter.

I stuck out my tongue.

"Keep that behavior up, and I'll put you in the time-out chair." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I blushed. I'd never look at my kitchen chairs in quite the same way again.

He came around the counter to give me a kiss. "I'm going to miss you," he said between kisses.

"Me, too," I sighed.

Mark was going to get some his belongings from the boat, and then he was off to the airport to spend the next five days 'settling things'. I just hoped those things didn't include Marsha.

"No ex-boyfriends, or new boyfriends, for that matter, while I'm gone," he joked. "And they'll be a full-body hickey inspection when I get back."

I glared at him.

He kissed my forehead. "I just get a little nervous thinking about you here with two exes within shouting distances, and me in Atlanta."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so happy with you going to Atlanta and seeing Marsha." I was getting riled. My hands went to my hips.

"Stand down," he ordered. "I'm not having this discussion again. Let's kiss goodbye like we actually like each other."

Like
each other. Really. "Well, I'm not actually in the habit of making out with people I just
like
," I replied tartly.

He stared at me for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something. But then it seemed to pass. "Good one," he said lightly. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck.

I raised my lips to his, wondering if something else might go wrong to keep us apart. What if this was our last kiss? What if he never said he loved me? Wait a minute, my brain interjected, I'm not sure about love at this point. Why did I expect him to be sure?

The kiss ended, and Mark grabbed his bags. He opened the door, saying, "I'll call you tonight."

And then he was gone. And all my insecurities came rushing back.

Sally whined.

Oh, well, there'd be plenty of time for teeth gnashing later. Right now I had dogs to walk. And, of course, a job with a vampire.

I pushed all the negative thoughts out of my mind and rushed through my morning tasks. I picked up coffee and monkey bread from Shack's Bakery at precisely nine o'clock, right on schedule. I hadn't forgotten my promise to check in with Carol on my way to work. I hoped she'd made up her mind about buying the business.

Mondays were crazy at the staffing agency. Second only to paycheck Friday's. Carol had three people standing around her desk and was talking on the phone to a fourth.

"I understand, Mr. Baker," she said patiently. "A lot of things were mixed up while I was out. I'll call you back this afternoon with the corrected invoice. Okay, thanks so much."

She hung up the phone and made a note on her Day Planner.

"You two gentlemen have a seat," she said firmly to two men in baggy jeans and sideways caps. "Now Bobby, what can I do for you?" she asked with a sigh.

This ought to be good. I occasionally helped out in the office, and knew that Bobby was a regular. He usually temped at a toothbrush manufacturer.

"Well, Miss Carol," he began hesitantly, "I missed work Friday. An' I was afraid to go back."

Carol narrowed her eyes. "Did you no-call-no-show, Bobby?"

This was a cardinal sin in the temp world.

Bobby looked startled. "No, ma'am. I'd never do that." He paused. "But I think I divulged too much information when I called my supervisor. If you know what I mean." He leaned in conspiratorially.

I actually did know what he meant. The first time I talked to Bobby on the phone he had said he wasn't able to get to work because his father had a flight to catch—on the space shuttle—and he had to take him to the airport so he could get to Houston in time for the launch.

Carol shook her head. "I really don't, Bobby. Why don't you tell me what you said, and I'll see if I can sort it out with your supervisor."

He leaned in a little closer and whispered, "I told him about my undercover work. You remember what I told you when I got my check last week?"

The two guys sitting down were listening intently.

"That you are working undercover for the police as part of a big sting operation, and that they recruited you because of your super-human hearing. Did I get that right?" she asked matter-of-factly.

The two guys looked at each other, probably thinking their hearing wasn't so great.

Bobby smiled. "Yep! Well, Friday they called me in to work in the Inner Harbor for the President's visit to Baltimore." He nodded his head proudly. "I was stationed in the doorway of the Aquarium. The man passed so close to me I could've touched his sleeve." His face had a dreamy look.