Best She Ever Had (9781617733963) (7 page)

K
orey raised his gaze from the PVC pipe. The wrench in his hand hovered in midair.

“Who the hell is that?” he murmured as he slowly climbed to his feet.

Someone was ringing his doorbell over and over again and pounding on the front door, making the frame rattle.

He set the wrench on the laminate countertop and wiped his wet hands on a dish towel.

His bathroom sink had been clogged for the past two days, and no amount of Drano or snaking seemed to do the trick. He had finally decided to break out his toolbox and had just started a bit of DIY plumbing when he heard the sound of screeching tires in his driveway. Now it sounded like the police were at his door with a battering ram.

He ran down the hall and looked through the front door's peephole. His eyes widened in shock. Cynthia Gibbons stood on his welcome mat, screaming like a crazy woman.

“Open up, damn it!” she yelled. “Korey, I know you're in there! Open up the door!”

He quickly undid the locks and swung his door open. “What the hell . . . Damn, woman, where's the fire?”

She looked like she had just stumbled out of bed. Her hair was pulled back into an askew ponytail, and she wasn't wearing any jewelry or her usual heart-stopping attire, only a blue blouse that was buttoned the wrong way and wrinkled jeans. This was the first time in his life that he had seen her without makeup. The freckles on her nose and cheeks stood out even more, and so did the gold flecks in her eyes. Not surprisingly, Cynthia Gibbons was a natural beauty, even though she looked like she had been through hell and back.

“Did you know about this?” she asked, shoving her way inside his home and barging into his living room. “Did you know about Clarissa and Jared?”

Korey's shoulders slumped. So Cynthia had finally found out. He figured she would be angry when she did. He probably should have assumed she'd be angry at him too.

Korey shut the door behind her. He turned and nodded.

“Yes, I knew.”

“Well, why the hell didn't you tell me, Korey?” she screamed, throwing up her hands. “You didn't think I had the right to know? She's my daughter, damn it!”

“I know she's your daughter, but—”

“
How could you?
How could you let this happen? What on earth were thinking?”

Korey took a deep breath. “Cindy, I didn't
let
anything happen. I had no control over this. You know how these things are. A boy and girl meet and . . . it evolves all by itself.”

She balled her fists at her sides. Her lips tightened. She looked on the verge of a Mount Vesuvius–worthy volcanic explosion.

“Look, Jared, Clarissa, and I knew you would be upset by this. That's why they kept it a secret and asked me to keep it a secret too. I know you're pissed off now, but just give it some time to let it sink in, okay? Don't make any rash judgments right now.”

He reached out and touched her shoulders. Her warmth made his fingers tingle. He hadn't touched her like this in such a long time. It felt good to do it again.

“They're smart kids, Cindy, and they know their own hearts.”

Just like I thought we did back then,
Korey thought, but he didn't say those words aloud.

“If you just give it a chance, you might—”

“I will
never
‘give it a chance,' Korey Walker,” Cynthia said with a deadly calm, shoving him away from her. “I'm putting the brakes on this right goddamn now! Do you understand me? Your son and my daughter are getting married over my dead body!”

“Getting married?”
Now he was confused. His hands fell to his sides. “Who the hell said anything about them getting married?”

“What do you mean who the hell said anything about them getting married?” she shouted. The tendons were almost bulging out of her neck. “You told me that you knew! You knew they were headed to Vegas to get married! Don't act stupid!”

“What?”
Korey shook his head. “Jared's not headed to Vegas! He's going on a three-day trip to Virginia Beach with his . . . with his boys . . . you know, his friends from college.”

Cynthia went silent. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked at Korey as if he was the most gullible man in the world. “Oh, is that what he told you? And when did your son leave for this three-day trip to Virginia Beach?”

“Uh . . .” Korey struggled to remember. He ran a hand over his head. “Sometime last night, I guess. He got a call from his friend. He asked Jared to pick him up, and they were supposed to stay at another guy's house until—”

“Clarissa and I had a big fight last night about your son, Korey,” Cynthia said, cutting him off. “She took some clothes and her luggage and snuck out of the house in the middle of the night. Her car is still in my driveway, so someone had to pick her up. I know it was Jared who did it! And how do I know? Because she left a note saying she was running away with
your
son, and when she came back, she would be Mrs. Jared Walker.”

Korey felt the blood drain from his head.
No,
he thought.
No, that's not possible!

The kids wouldn't do anything that stupid! He knew young people could be passionate and impulsive, but there was no way Jared would agree to run away to Las Vegas to get married to a girl he had only known for a few months!

“There's a quick way to settle this,” Korey muttered. He walked toward the cordless phone hanging on the kitchen wall by the fridge. “I'll call Jared to see where he is.”

Cynthia sucked her teeth. “He probably won't answer your call. Clarissa didn't answer any of mine.”

Korey bit back the remark,
If you were my mother, I probably wouldn't have answered either.
Instead he said, “Well, it wouldn't hurt to try, Cindy, now would it? What have we got to lose?”

Cynthia hovered at his side, watching him as he dialed Jared's cell phone number on the punch pad.

“Maybe she just lied to scare you,” Korey said as Jared's phone began to ring in his ear. “She wanted to get back at you for freaking out. I bet she's hiding out at a girlfriend's house somewhere, safe and sound. Or maybe she's in Virginia Beach partying it up with Jared, but they're not—”

“Hey, Pops, what's up?” Jared casually answered.

Korey breathed a sigh of relief, elated to hear his son's voice. “Hey, Jared.”

Cynthia's mouth fell open. She grabbed Korey's back, digging her long nails into his shoulder blades. “Find out where they are!” she whispered frantically.

Korey nodded, then returned his attention to the phone call. “Just wanted to check in with you, son. Are you guys on the road yet? Still headed to Virginia Beach?”

“Yeah, Pops,” Jared answered distractedly, “we just hit I-95. We're going to stop at a rest stop in an hour or so. Then it'll be my turn to drive.”

“Oh, okay, well you . . . you guys stay safe.”

“Sure, Pops.”

Cynthia slapped Korey's shoulder. “Ask about Clarissa!” she mouthed. “Ask him!”

He nodded again, getting tired of her physical abuse. “Hey, Jared?”

“Yeah? Look, I should probably get off the phone now, Pops. I'm supposed to—”

“Have you heard from Clarissa?” Korey glanced at Cynthia, who was nodding so hard her eyes were rolling. “Her mom stopped by today. She said she had a fight with her last night and Clarissa ran away. She's really worried about her. She wondered if maybe you had spoken to her.”

“Oh,” Jared said. “Umm, n-no, I haven't heard from Clarissa. I haven't talked to her since yesterday. Sorry, I can't help you.”

Korey squinted. That wasn't the reaction he expected from a guy who had just found out that his girlfriend had run away from home. Jared didn't sound vaguely concerned.

“Jared,” Korey said, “don't lie to me. Are you with Clarissa?”

“Pops, I told you. I don't know where she is! I haven't . . . I haven't spoken to her.”

His voice was high. Jared's voice always went an octave higher when he lied.

“I've gotta get off the phone, Pops. All right?”

Korey suddenly heard a dinging sound in the background. Then a muffled voice came over a loudspeaker.

“Now boarding Flight 557 to Las Vegas, Nevada,” a woman's syrupy voice boomed. “First-class passengers and passengers with small children—”

“Jared?” Korey shouted. His throat felt tight. His heart started to pound in his chest at a breakneck speed. He gripped the cordless so hard in his hand, he felt as if he would crush it. “Jared, don't you dare get on that plane! Boy, I will—”

“I'll talk to you later, Pops,” Jared said hastily. Then the phone line went dead.

Korey tried to call Jared's cell phone again, but each time the call went to Jared's voicemail. He finally lowered the phone back into its cradle, feeling dazed.

“So they took the flight then?” Cynthia asked.

Korey jumped. He turned and found her gazing up at him expectantly. He had forgotten she was standing there. He gradually nodded. “Yeah, and it sounds like they're definitely headed to Vegas.”

“I have to stop this, Korey! I
can't
let this happen. I know the hotel where they're staying. Clarissa used my credit card for the reservations.” She turned around and headed to his front door. “I'm booking a flight. When I arrive in Vegas, I'll—”

“I'm booking a flight too.”

Cynthia paused with her hand on the doorknob. She slowly turned to stare at him. “Huh?”

“Clarissa may be your daughter, but Jared is
my
son,” he said, pointing at his chest. “I could accept them dating, but this marriage stuff is crazy! They're way too young! They've only been together four months! Not to mention the fact that Viv would kill me if she found out I let this happen! I wouldn't hear the end of it.” He nodded firmly. “So I'm going there too.”

“You . . . you want us to go to Vegas . . .
together?
”

He smirked. “What? Scared to be alone with me for a couple of days?”

She licked her pouty lower lip. “Well, n-no.”

Korey strolled toward her. His smile widened. He could swear he saw nervousness flicker across her honey-colored face. “You don't have to be scared, Cindy,” he said softly as he stood in front of her. He gazed into her eyes. “I'm not going to try anything.”

She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I told you that I'm not scared,” she bluffed bravely, putting on the Ice Queen act again. “Why would I be? It takes two to tango, and frankly, I'm not interested.”

He reached out and trailed a finger along her soft cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed. He felt her tremble beneath his fingertip. “Are you sure about that?” he whispered.

He wondered if she still sighed before she kissed. Did she still moan and do those high-pitched whines when she made love? She had a symphony of sounds back when they were younger. What new moans and cries had she added to the mix?

As if reading his thoughts, her eyes flashed open. She stiffened.

“I'll see if I can book us both a flight for later today,” she said, pushing away his hand. “You can pay me back later. Just be ready to leave this afternoon.”

She then turned and opened his front door, slamming it shut behind her.

C
ynthia took a deep breath, then released it.

Inhale, exhale,
she thought.
Inhale, exhale.

But the deep-breathing exercises weren't working. She still had a death grip on the armrests of her airplane seat. She was gritting her teeth so much, her gums hurt. Oh, once she got her hands on Clarissa, she was going to strangle that little girl! Not only had Clarissa run away from home, was well on her way to getting married, and had stolen Cynthia's credit cards to pull off the whole debacle, she was now forcing her mother to ride on an airplane. Flying was one of Cynthia's worst fears—just below being broke and living in a hovel.

These things were death traps! The people were packed in so tightly they all would probably catch tuberculosis from the fat old man with glasses who was coughing over and over again into his fist two seats in front of her. And if the plane went down, she knew they didn't stand a chance of survival. The flotation devices under the seats were a joke, and what if they didn't land in water, but on the ground? It wasn't like they had any parachutes. No, they would all go hurtling to the earth in a flaming fireball. Her only hope would be to lose consciousness before impact.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale
.

Damn it, why hadn't the Xanax Dawn lent her kicked in yet? What was taking it so long?

“These are nice seats,” Korey said.

Cynthia cracked one eye open to look at him.

“I've never flown first-class before because I thought it was a waste of money.” He shifted in the padded leather seat beside her and stretched. “But I should do this more often. You get plenty of leg room.”

She didn't respond.

He turned to her and frowned. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she said through clenched teeth.

She heard a thudding sound and turned, wild-eyed and panicked. She looked out of her seat window. It was only the sound of two guys on the tarmac, loading suitcases onto the plane.

“You don't look fine,” Korey said, still eying her. “You look like you're about to rip the metal off that armrest.”

“I told you, I'm all right. I'm just not . . . I'm just not a fan of flying, that's all.”

“
Ooooh!
I didn't know that.”

She sighed. “Well, now you do.”

Cynthia glanced out of the window and saw that the two men were loading the last of the baggage onto the plane. That meant they would be taking off soon. She inwardly moaned.

“You don't have to worry,” Korey assured her, leaning toward her. His dark eyes twinkled. “You know, I used to be afraid to fly too. I'm a lot better now, though. In the old days, every time I sat on a plane I felt like I was stuck in jet-sized coffin.”

Was this conversation supposed to make her feel better?

“And the turbulence can be the worst. I was on a flight to Chicago once where it felt like the whole plane was rattling.” He shook his arms to demonstrate. “It felt like we could drop out of the sky at any moment.”

“Korey, is this your version of a pep talk?” she asked, glaring at him. “If it is, you
suck
at it!”

He chuckled. “Look, I'm just saying that it's possible to get past the fear. Besides, statistically you're more likely to die in a car crash than a plane crash, right? So odds are that both of us will survive this flight. Don't worry.”

She'd like to see those odds.

Suddenly, a voice came over the plane's PA system. It was the captain announcing that all passengers should buckle their seat belts because they were headed to the runway.

Cynthia closed her eyes again. “Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale,” she chanted aloud.

Korey chuckled again and patted the hand that was still gripping the armrest. “You'll be fine. Just focus on something else.”

“Like what?” she cried hysterically, opening her eyes. The flight attendants were demonstrating where the exit doors were on the plane. “What the hell else am I supposed to focus on when I'm surrounded by an airplane on all sides?”

Cynthia could hear something mechanical happening over her shoulder. She snapped her head and turned to look out the window again. The pilot was adjusting the flaps on the wings. She flapped her hands wildly in front of her face. She wanted to unbuckle her seat belt, race to the plane doors, and scream to be let out.

“Focus on our kids, for one,” Korey said. He casually adjusted his seat belt and grabbed the in-flight magazine in the seat pocket in front of him and began to flip its pages. “Think about how the hell we're supposed to find them once we get to Las Vegas.”

She stopped flapping her hands. “What do you mean how are we supposed to find them? We already know the hotel where they're staying.”

“Cindy, haven't you ever been to Vegas? Those hotels are huge! Some have multiple buildings. We may know where they're staying, but we don't know their room number.”

“So we ask the reservation desk!”

“But the reservation desk doesn't have to give it to us just because we ask nicely.”

“I'm not going to ‘ask nicely'!”

Korey was right. She was starting to forget she was in a jet-sized coffin. She was more pissed about him pointing out an obvious obstacle to her plan for finding Clarissa.

“I'm going to tell them to give me the damn room number because she's
my
daughter and she used
my
credit card to get that hotel room!”

Korey snorted and turned another magazine page. “And I'm sure that'll go over well.”

“So what do you suggest?” she shouted over the noise of the plane as it raced down the runway. “What's your brilliant idea on how to find the kids?”

“Well, I say when we get there, we be honest with them: We explain the situation. They're two young people who ran off and now are about to do something really stupid. And if that doesn't work—we slip the guy at the desk a hundred bucks and ask again.”

“And if
that
doesn't work?” she yelled as they were suddenly thrown back in their seats. Cynthia closed her eyes and slapped a hand against her chest as the plane tilted to a forty-five-degree angle. She was going to have a heart attack. She was sure of it! The pressure against her chest and in her ears increased as the plane flew into the air.

Korey thought for a minute or two. “I guess the only other alternative we have is that we get a room at the hotel, hunker down in the lobby, and try to track them down that way.”

Her eyes flew open. “
We?
What do you mean
we'll
get a room?”

“I meant separate rooms, of course. Damn, woman!” He shoved the magazine into the seat pocket in front of him, looking offended.

The plane finally started to level out. Her heart rate decreased a little. She took a deep breath.

“Look, I told you that I wasn't going to try anything on this trip,” Korey said. “Why are you so convinced I'm trying to get into your pants?”

“
Honestly?
Because you always tried in the past. There wasn't a single date we had, Korey, when you weren't reaching for—”

“Well, that's in the past,” he said steadfastly, glaring at her. “I'm a grown man now. I know how to control myself. My son's the one who seems to be going at it like there's no tomorrow. Trust me! He's getting a lot more ass than me nowadays.”

Cynthia went stock-still. Her heart started to race again, this time for a very different reason.

“What . . . what do you mean? You're not . . . you're not suggesting that he's having sex with Clarissa, are you?”

Korey started to laugh. “You're joking, right?”

“No, I'm not joking!”

The orange seat belt sign went off. Over the PA system, the captain said that they were free to move about the cabin and that flight attendants would soon be going around with drinks and snacks.

“Cindy, I think it's pretty safe to assume that those two are having sex—
a lot
.”

“You don't know that for a fact! They could just be . . . they could just be kissing on occasion, or making out . . . lots of kissing and rubbing! Kids like to do that. I thought . . . I thought that's what this whole marriage business was about. Clarissa wouldn't have sex until they got married, so that's why they're rushing to Vegas!”

Korey was laughing even harder now, absolutely infuriating her. For the first time, Cynthia noticed a white-haired old woman sitting in the first-class seat across the aisle. She was staring at them over the top of her romance paperback with a bare-chested hunk on the cover. She was avidly listening to their conversation.

“Mind your own damn business!” Cynthia shouted at her. “Read your book!”

The woman's eyes snapped back to her book's pages.

“Cindy, calm down!” Korey said

“I can't calm down when you're insinuating that my daughter is having sex with your son!”

“I'm not insinuating. I'm about ninety-nine percent sure the kids are having sex.”

“Why ninety-nine percent?”

“Because I have evidence, sweetheart.”

“What
evidence?
”

He glanced at the old woman, who was back to listening again but making a poor attempt to mask it. He motioned Cynthia to lean toward him. She did. Then he whispered in her ear, “I gave Jared a box of condoms last year that he didn't touch for months. I saw the box a few weeks ago and now half of it is empty.”

She leaned back and stared at him.

“Hey, don't look at me like that! Just be happy they're using condoms.” His brows knitted together as he grimaced. “I just hope she isn't pregnant.”

“You better shut your mouth, Korey Walker!”

“It's not that crazy of an idea. That would definitely explain that whole eloping thing.”

This can't be happening,
she thought as he spoke. Things were spiraling out of control and she couldn't stop them. She had to get to Clarissa! She had to talk to her before this thing went beyond the point of no return!

“It already has if Korey's right,” a dire voice in her head warned. “If he's right, we've got a major catastrophe on our hands.”

“I need a drink,” Cynthia muttered. “I need a drink right goddamn
now!
”

When the flight attendant came by with her rolling cart, Cynthia ordered a gin and tonic. Korey ordered a rum and coke. He sipped his drink. She finished hers in one gulp. Of course, it was just her luck that after she had her gin and tonic, the Xanax finally started to kick in. Instead of feeling as if she had had one drink to soothe her nerves, she felt as if she had just downed
five
of them!

After an hour, Cynthia took off her seat belt and then her sweater.

God, it's hot in here
, she thought.

She flopped back into her seat and stared out the airplane window at the view. They were somewhere over the Midwest but so high up in the air that she couldn't see buildings anymore.

All the fluffy clouds. Look at all the pretty fluffy clouds
.

The Xanax and alcohol had done the trick. Instead of thinking about crashing to the earth, she wanted to put on a bathing suit and dog-paddle in the clouds outside her window.

Cynthia turned and looked at Korey. He had his headphones on and was staring at the screen in the headrest in front of him, watching the in-flight movie. She gazed at his face in profile. He was definitely a handsome man and sexy as all hell.

The bastard,
she thought.

She wondered if he was still a good kisser. God had given him a mouth to bring a woman infinite pleasures. She reached out and ran her index finger over his full lips, making him jump in surprise. He yanked off his headphones and frowned down at her.

“What are you doing?”

Cynthia smiled dreamily and turned sideways in her seat to face him. She pulled up the armrest and leaned toward him. She was almost in his lap. “Do you . . . do you remember that time senior year when we went down to the lake to go tubing?” she said in a breathy whisper. “Remember? It was a class trip, but we walked off by ourselves.”

“Cindy, are you drunk?”

“We walked to this deserted spot, and you dared me to take off all my clothes and jump in the water with you.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, I remember. I thought I was being spontaneous. I had to get naked first for you to even do it . . . and it was freezing in there.” He shook his head. “It was nothing like the movies. That's for damn sure.”

“We swam around for a half an hour and then when we came back to shore, you laid down your T-shirt in the grass, in the spot hidden behind a thicket of bushes, and we made love right there, Korey.” She closed her eyes and laid her head against his shoulder, thinking back to the memory. “I think I came three times that day! Gah, you had a mouth on you . . . and you used to do that thing with your tongue! What was that thing?”

Korey glanced at the old woman who sat across the aisle from them. She was staring at them again, totally riveted.

“And those hands. I loved your fingers, Korey! You could make me come that way too.” She smirked. “But it was nothing . . . and I mean
nothing
compared to that big d—”

“Cindy, why are we talking about this?” he asked, cutting her off.