Strange Neighbors (5 page)

   "Let me take that dish so you can look around. See the rest of the place." He headed toward the kitchen and set the dish on the curved granite peninsula.

   She followed hesitantly. "Thanks. You trust me to wander around by myself?"

   "Sure, I don't think you could hide much of anything under that slinky dress."

   Her mouth dropped open and she burst into giggles. Even with her tan complexion, her face reddened.

   What did I say that for? Now I've embarrassed her and she'll probably wear sweats and bulky hoodies from now on. How could he salvage the situation? Apologize? Laugh with her? No. He just listened to his gut, strode over to her, pulled her into his embrace, and kissed her. He wanted there to be no misunderstanding. He didn't wait for permission. He took possession of her lips and delivered his message resolutely.

   Her body molded to his and she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. He didn't want to stop kissing her, but neither did he want to seem overanxious. He pulled back slowly, and still holding her he said, "You're irresistible, you know."

   She lowered her head and let out a nervous giggle, but she didn't pull away and maintained a friendly smile. Apparently going with his gut had been the right thing to do. He leaned in for another kiss and this time her lips parted, slightly. He slipped his tongue in her mouth and their tongues touched.

   She tasted like apples and cinnamon. She smelled good too—kind of like spicy vanilla. A small moan escaped her soft lips. I know what you mean, babe.

   Their tongues swirled as if caressing each other. Jason knew he wasn't a bad kisser, but this was the first time he'd felt like his lips were an incomplete puzzle that had found its missing piece. They fit together perfectly.

   He didn't know how long they'd been standing there kissing when he reluctantly let her go. She touched her full bottom lip as if it tingled.

   He inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. "Man."

   "You can say that again."

Merry wandered through Jason's apartment, barely taking in the details, while he opened and poured the wine. She hadn't expected to be kissed so soon but had hoped things would head in that direction by the end of the night—still, she wasn't about to complain. A twinge of nervousness niggled at her, but how could she find out if this handsome man, who had plenty of money and could probably attract any woman he wanted, wanted her for a fling or more than that?

   Merry knew what she wanted. Love, a home, and a family. Sure, a good time at first so she'd have some wild memories to keep her entertained while sitting around in a nursing home, but love, eventually and ultimately. Possibly more than a man like Jason Falco was willing to consider.

   Merry's realistic nature acknowledged that love didn't always happen without heartbreak, but her optimistic side hoped to avoid it nonetheless. Her lips still tingled. His line about her being irresistible might have been cliché, but that kiss certainly wasn't.

   She suddenly realized she had bypassed an exercise room and had been standing in his bedroom for quite a while. Her attention focused on the king-sized pedestal bed covered in white linens, a white duvet, and loads of white pillows. Why would a single guy need such a huge bed? Obviously, he wasn't planning to sleep alone. But there was enough room in this one for three and the surface sat so low that no one would get hurt if, in all the rolling around, someone slid off onto the white carpet… Oh! Damn, wasn't that every man's fantasy? And if he could have anything he wanted… Eek.

   "Like it?" he said from the doorway.

   She started. "Oh, uh… What?"

   He held out a glass of red wine to her. "Do you like my place?"

   "Yeah! Of course. Who wouldn't?"

   "I wouldn't. I think it's cold and sterile."

   "Really? Huh, come to think of it, it kind of reminds me of the hospital." She took a sip of her wine and it trickled down surprisingly smooth. She usually thought of reds as bitter, but this mellow brand might help her survive the evening. The idea of kinky aerobics had her shivering inside, yet she wasn't chilly. If anything, her warm cheeks grew warmer.

   "I notice that everything is pretty low to the floor."

   "I know. Isn't that ridiculous? I had to go and buy myself one chair I could sit in without stretching my legs all the way out. I'm six feet tall. I still can't figure out who the designer had in mind when she picked out this stuff. Dwarfs?"

   "It looks like all seven dwarfs could fit in this bed." She glanced back at it, then noticed a gleam in his blue eyes as he smiled. Warning alarms sounded in her head.

   But he answered nonchalantly. "The seven dwarfs worked in a mine, didn't they? All this white furniture and bedding would turn gray in a week."

   "Well, let's go back to your living room," she said a little too abruptly.

   They bypassed the living room and decided to skip the small talk and go right to dinner.

   He pulled out the chair for her. That made her smile. Well, things look as though they're back on track.

   And how! Merry didn't sit, but faced him and pulled his arms around her waist. She delivered another one of her mind-blowing kisses, then swept aside the dishes. She lay back on the table and crooked her little finger at him.

   Jason approached her like a panther stalking its prey. He walked forward on his hands and leaned over her. As he kissed her again, she cupped her hand around his hot, throbbing… Mercy! He shivered.

   "Is everything okay? Are you going to sit down too?"

   Crap. It was just a fantasy. Someday, however, he wanted that particular fantasy to come true.

Recognizing Morgaine's voice, but unable to hear any response, Chad deduced that she was on the phone—and possibly on the phone-sex line! He could always hope that some kind of real foreplay might be in progress, but he pushed his way through the wooden door to find out. He always felt as if he needed to spit sawdust after going through doors. It was better than plaster, though.

   "Oh, yeah… Do you like that, baby? Hmmm… I'm really turned on right now."

   Sure enough, Morgaine was using her money maker—her super sexy phone voice.

   Suddenly the other phone rang.

   The witches had two dedicated lines each, and he assumed each had their own clients. But the best thing about their living together was their ability to cover for each other—callers never had to hang up disappointed when they needed to get their rocks off.

   "No, baby. I don't have to go," Morgaine said breathily. "I have to come."

   Gwyneth rushed in and picked up the ringing telephone.

   Morgaine added some heavy panting, and then… "Oooh, Ahhh, Ohhhhhhhhh. AAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAH!"

   She panted a few times, then said, "That was fantastic! You're so incredible. Did I satisfy you too, baby? Yeah? Good." After a brief giggle, she said, "Of course. Call any time. We're always here for you, baby."

   As soon as she hung up, she returned to the kitchen where something brewed on a slow simmer. It looked like another batch of her protection potion. Chad had seen her make it before. She kept the black liquid at just below a boil.

   He remembered when it bubbled over and made a mess of the white appliances and tile floor. Morgaine declared the batch ruined and threw it out.

   Sometimes they slaved over the hot stove for twenty minutes or more as they stirred their spells into all kinds of horrible soupy looking things. Of course, sometimes they were simply making soup. Chad could only tell if they tasted the stuff.

   He switched his attention to Gwyneth as she began talking dirty in her sexy Southern drawl.

   I love that Gwyneth still has a heavy Southern accent. Those dropped r's and slow drawl are music to my Northern ears. It was hard to believe they were cousins—even though Chad was pretty sure they'd moved from down South somewhere. Chad loved it when Gwyneth used the endearment "Dahlin'" to her better clients. That slow drawl plus the sexy voice could make him come. As it was, he tried to avoid the frustration.

   It amazed him how the cousins could turn it on and off at a moment's notice. Of course, it was acting! That's why they called themselves phone-sex actresses and could win academy awards. Certainly their performances rivaled Meg Ryan's. Heh heh. I'll have what she's having.

   Chad knew they had an owl familiar and wondered where it was. Athena was a real owl—kept like a beloved pet. They believed she contained the spirit of some kind of reincarnated ancestor or spiritual guardian. Chad thought it was just a dumb bird.

   Her perch was in the bathroom, so if she spilled her food or had an accident, they wouldn't lose another area rug. She didn't fly much, but sometimes got turned on by all the noises and began flapping her wings and hooting.

   "Oh, gawd, dahlin'… Oh, that feels so good… Oh yeah, dahlin'. Are you close? Now? Awww… Shee-it! AAAAAaaa, AAAAAaaa, AAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

   Hoo… Hoo…

   Yup, these two are a gas to watch. Chad grinned.

"This is delicious, Merry." Jason hadn't had a meal this good in a long time. Sure, he could grill a steak and microwave a potato, but this… this was ambrosia.

   "You make a mean salad, too," she said.

   Jason chuckled and scooped another forkful of

lasagna into his mouth. He chewed with his eyes closed to savor the mix of tomatoes, meat, and cheeses. His taste buds zinged.

   Wow, a beauty who can cook too. Not like the spoiled debutantes who had been forced on him— speaking of which…

   "Merry, there's a charity bachelor auction the PR people roped me into. I really don't want to be auctioned off like a piece of meat, so I was thinking maybe if I give you the money to 'buy' me… Would you be willing to get dressed up and pose as a rich, spoiled brat?"

   Merry almost choked on her salad. Then she started to laugh. When she cleared her throat and composed herself, she asked, "When is it?"

   "The Friday after next."

   "You're in luck. I work every other weekend, but I have Fridays and Mondays off when I work that Saturday and Sunday."

   "Is that a yes?"

   She shrugged. "I'll think about it."

   Well, that was better than an outright no. Now to keep the conversation casual. "Is that why you moved in on a Friday? Was this your weekend to work?"

   "Yes. That's when my family was available too. My dad's retired, but my kid brother works Saturdays. On Fridays he gets out of school at noon. Since I couldn't carry all the heavy stuff by myself, I had to take what labor I could get when I could get it."

   "So, you're off again tomorrow since it's Monday?"

   "Yup. I should probably feel guilty about playing hooky tonight, but when I called, I was still pretty shaken up."

   "I didn't realize that. You seem fine." He thought about

her reaction at the bedroom and realized she'd probably feel skittish after a near rape. Now her abrupt change of mood as he'd walked up behind her made sense.

   He reached over and grasped her hand. It trembled. "Merry, I'm so sorry you were attacked. I know I said it before, but my uncle is taking steps to correct the lighting in the alley. I promise."

   She smiled. "I know. Thank you."

   "He'll have it finished before you have to go back to work." He squeezed her hand before he let go. She nodded and looked at her lap.

   Wow, she really was upset. I wonder why she didn't let on?

They had finished their meal, cleared the table, and settled on the sofa to talk. Merry set her wine glass on the Lucite table, afraid of spilling it on the white fabric of the sofa.

   She had already finished two glasses and really didn't need any more. The wine made her relaxed and her lips tingled faintly. Or maybe she was anticipating another one of Jason's toe-curling kisses.

   Jason sat so low to the ground that his legs stretched way out in front of him. Merry had been able to tuck hers demurely under and to one side.

   "See what I mean about this ridiculous furniture?" he said.

   "It looks cool, but I'm afraid to spill anything on it," Merry said. "Especially red wine."

   "I wouldn't mind if you did. It would give me an excuse to toss these and get new ones."

"Why don't you donate them somewhere?"

   He looked left and right to the matching side chairs and said, "You know what? You're right. I settled for them just because they were so damned expensive, and I was raised not to waste money. I'm sure there's some office in a shelter or something I can furnish and then get what I want."

   "Of course. Maybe you could bring them back to the store if you know where they came from—or save your money from the bachelor auction if you need to."

   "Oh, no. It's not the money." He turned to face her and rested his hand on hers.

   A slight electric zing traveled up her arm and raised goose-bumps. Her breath hitched, but Jason didn't appear to notice.

   "I've heard nightmare stories from some of the guys on my team about those stupid auctions."

   "Like what? Blue-haired old ladies with no teeth who want to grope you all night?"

   He laughed. "I haven't been through anything like that yet, but it's certainly a risk. No, I'm talking about society women trying to marry for money. They think our off-season is their hunting season. I don't want to get duped into anything less than love."