All That You Are (24 page)

“I know you pretty good.”

“No, you don't. If you did, you'd know what I'm thinking, what I want, what I need.”

Easing back into his chair, he gave a slight snort. “I can read you better than you read yourself sometimes.”

“The hell you can.”

Pulling his mouth into a smile, he remarked wryly, “That's another thing I like about you, sweetart. You never mince words. Say it like it is—unless it's something you don't want me to know. And I say there's a reason you're holding on to that bar that you're not willing to tell me.”

Dana turned away, stared ahead and kept her profile somber. Her brain clicked in her head, he could tell by the arch of her brow and the set of her mouth. Blinking once, she licked her lips.

He didn't say a word. He knew better than to break the spell when she was running something through her head. He sensed if she talked, she'd dissolve. Emotions would flow. She'd have to face something she'd been ignoring. God knows everyone had a ghost they tried to outrun.

Endless minutes passed and the silence wrapped around them with the weight of a steel mesh.

Mark knew he'd taken a risk, entered dangerous territory, so he backed away a few steps. “The barge coming in with the steel should be here next week, and I've got cranes coming to unload it and put things in place, but the structure won't be done before I leave. A guy named Steve from Channel Steel is in charge and I'll be in touch with him to make sure everything gets done.” He drank the last of his beer and set the bottle down. “I'm going to write down all the subs' phone numbers if you run into any kind of trouble with the second inspection. I don't anticipate problems so I rescheduled Kirk to come the
second week in October. Steve said he could fill in for me, but I could fly back to be here if you want.”

“N-no, not a good idea.”

Not the answer he'd hoped for, but he expected it.

“All right then, once you pass inspection in October, then you'll have the winter to—”

“I can't,” she blurted, tearing her gaze from the vast sky and looking directly at him. “I can't sell it.” Tears welled in her eyes, then splashed down her cheeks. His heart broke. “I'm afraid if I let go of the bar, I'll lose my dad and brother forever.” She took a gulp of air, shaky and trying to maintain her composure. “Dad was such a part of the Blue Note and Terrance was always there. I…I miss them
so
much.”

Without conscious thought, he slid her onto his lap and held her tight while she cried into his chest. Her fingers bunched the knit of his shirt, her body quaking with sorrow.

He cradled her next to the comfort of his body, held her close, murmured indiscernible words. Her words were smothered by tears of anguish as she confessed, “This is the first time I've ever cried in front of someone about losing my father. I didn't cry at the funeral. I just couldn't.”

Mark didn't have a lot of experience offering condolences, but he managed and his efforts were from the depth of his heart.

His big hand splayed across her back, stroking, soothing. He let her cry it out, releasing the tension that had to have been hell to live with all this time.

Warm breath caught on the side of his throat where her face lay buried against his hot skin. Her sandalwood fragrance filled his nose, the texture of her hair soft
against his cheek. Her arms wound around his neck, and she kissed him without apparent thought. Then once more. Then on the lobe of his ear.

His entire body came alive, his arousal swift and hard. Mark was jolted by her lips' moist warmth and the weight of her pressing into his groin. It took him only a half second to fully kiss her back, deepening what she'd started, stoking it with the desires he'd kept banked. He tried to read the unspoken thoughts on her lips, kissing her deeply, thoroughly. His hands traveled down her back, tracing her spine and finally cupping her bottom in his large hands.

He sucked in his breath as he realized she wore a thong under the lightweight sweatpants. He could only stand so much and keep from taking her here and now.

Dana angled her head to kiss him more deeply, to make his lips mold over her own. In the back of Mark's head, he thought to himself that she knew she held a power over him. She parted his lips with her tongue, to trace over his straight teeth. His mouth opened to hers and he moved to cradle her head with his hands. He wove his fingers into the silky tangle of her hair, drawing her face closer to him, pressing his lips harder to hers, meeting her tongue with his own, teasing her, dueling with her.

He would have given anything to have her naked against him. For her to feel the hard contours of his bare chest pushing against her own. His raw strength next to her breasts. He wanted to be closer to her, to be rid of clothing between them.

She trailed her fingernails over his back, bringing a cry from his mouth into her own. He felt a sensual smile on her mouth, as if she enjoyed holding him captive. She
left his lips momentarily to move her mouth over his jaw. The rough texture of his beard made him wish he'd shaved before coming over.

Once again, she brought her mouth to the crook of his neck, kissing his earlobe and brushing her lips there. He let go of a shudder as she opened her mouth to flick her tongue over that sensitive part of his ear, lightly running the tip of it into the shelled cavern.

Mark pressed her against him so tightly, he thought he'd break her in two. She returned to his lips, and he ran his hands across her shoulders and up to the nape of her tousled hair.

Everything inside him screamed one thing—take her to bed.

But he couldn't, not in a garage. And he wouldn't, not when she was vulnerable and looking for a release.

With every ounce of willpower he could muster, he set her back at arm's length away, and held her firmly. “We gotta stop this or I'm not going to be able to.”

Mutely, she nodded, her face flushed and her lips parted as she panted to catch her breath.

After long seconds, she finally was able to talk. “I'm not normally like this.”

Taking slow and steady air into his lungs, Mark tried to calm his pulse. Feeling as if he were gaining some control back, he had to make light of the situation or else he could easily forget good intentions and strip her naked.

In an indolent tone, he offered, “Maybe I just have the kind of shoulder women like to cry on.”

Sniffing, she questioned almost gruffly, “You've offered your shoulder before?”

“You're not the first.”

She gave him a death glare. “I hate you.”

Quietly, he responded, “No, you don't.”

A bony elbow jabbed his ribs as she jerked to right herself and resume her own chair. Where there was once warmth and passion, the air around him was cool.

Mark wasn't real good at giving sound advice when it came to upended emotions, but he knew something from his childhood that had helped him. Regardless of Dana kissing him, of needing to be loved and feel good, she still needed to deal with her father and brother's passing, and holding on to the Blue Note wasn't the way to get there.

“Get yourself out from behind the eight ball. You'll hold on to your sadness unless you allow yourself to let it all go.” Mark didn't know how else to say it. “When I was nine, my dad took me to the upper level of the downtown Sears parking garage, and he let me go down all the ramps like a maniac on my skateboard. Anyone knows that's probably suicide, but he told me to have at it and put a little faith in myself. He trusted me to make my own way. Honey, sometimes you just have to let go and put faith in yourself you'll take the right turns and not fall on your ass.”

Dana pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, eyes half-closed. “God, you're like a wool coat. Itchy, but you wear it anyway because you know it keeps you warm.”

Laughter roared through Mark's throat. “You want to wear me? Anytime, baby.”

Glaring at him, she blurted, “I meant that I like having you around for comfort, but you chafe my skin, Moretti.” With a groan, she spoke into her hands. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I already have an answer for that one.”

“I
'M ENGAGED!”
Presley announced with animated excitement, flashing a princess-cut diamond engagement ring at anyone within a five-foot vicinity.

Dana moved in for a closer look, nodding her approval. “So he finally asked you.”

“Can you believe it?” Presley's cheeks blushed, pink and rosy from happiness. Her light-colored hair was swept into a loose ponytail with silver hoop earrings dangling from her earlobes. “Last night he said he wanted to have a DVD night and I was like, ‘There's that new Brendan Fraser mummy movie playing at the Coliseum. We never do anything anymore but stay at home,' and he just told me to quit complaining, sit on the sofa and he'd get the popcorn. So I sat there, steaming like a plate full of clams, when he pops in
Platoon,
a movie he's seen, like, a hundred times and I hate it. I was ready to just go home when he said to have some popcorn, and when I put my hand in the bowl, there was this jewelry box and I was like, what is this and then I pulled it out and when I opened it, he got down on one knee in front of the couch. He asked me and I was speechless. All I could hear through the pounding of my heart was rapid gunfire blasting from the television. He asked again and I…and I said yes.”

Breathless from her story, Presley put a hand over her heart; of course the hand with the diamond ring.

Dana was the first to congratulate Presley with an affectionate hug. “It's about time,” she said, kissing her friend's cheek.

“Don't I know it. Holy cow, I can't believe I'm engaged!” She studied the sparkling ring once more, extending her hand in front of her for a wide-angle view. In the bar's daylight, the diamond wasn't huge by any standard, but the setting was classic and simple. Much like Presley Reid.

Leo and Walt gave her clumsy hugs, as did the kitchen help staff and a few others in the Blue Note who'd heard her news.

Cardelle, who was off work today, wore an untucked printed floral shirt and jeans with leather thongs. “Let me see dat ring.”

Presley flexed her wrist for Cardelle to have a look at the gem.

Rather than give the ring a nod, he pulled out his jeweler's loupe to examine it while it was still on Presley's finger. “Dis is ripe.”

“Ripe?” She jerked her hand away. “Is that bad? Did he get me a CZ? Ohmygosh. I have a fake!”

“No, mon. All's good. Ripe—it mean everyt'ing well. Very nice diamond. He did not buy it from me, but dat is a'right. You come see me for his wedded ring, gal, and I give you discount.”

Giddy, Presley nodded. “I will, Cardelle.”

With a broad grin, Cardelle exclaimed, “You know what, mon, we should have a big bashment for dis gal before I fly back to Jamaica at de end of de next month.”

“You can use the bar for an engagement party,” Dana said as she watched Mark put the last of his tools away to head out for the day. She tried to stay focused on the conversation at hand, while also trying to concoct a reason to talk to Mark before he left. “I'll pick up the tab on everything.”

“That would be awesome,” Presley squeaked. “Well, I guess I better come back to earth and start cooking for the night.” She gave a few excited hops in place. “I can't believe it! I just can't.”

The small group disbanded and some resumed seats at the bar while others paid their tabs and went on their way.

When Dana looked around, Mark had already gone. Disappointment fanned throughout her and she couldn't help feeling lonely.

The hour crept toward midafternoon. Cardelle had arrived at one o'clock to talk to Mark about something. The duo had been in a huddle by the band platform with tape measures. They'd spent a long time in discussion, then laughed and gave each other a firm pat on the back. Why she had no clue. She couldn't ask Cardelle about it now—he'd gone, too.

Cardelle Kanhai had turned out to be a joyful regular in the bar. This had been his second summer season in Ketchikan and she hoped he'd return next year. His humor and his dialogue were much appreciated around here. The white smile on his dark face could light up the Blue Note on a dreary day. Card used his wisdom in many a discussion, interjecting a conversation with a sense of humor that was different from anyone else's in town. The absurd thing he'd done in the men's room was testimony to that.

Dana had had to close the men's restroom last week for repairs. While the area was out of commission, men had to use the ladies' facilities, and then for three days this week, she'd had to divert the women to the men's room while an “under construction” sign had been posted on the ladies' restroom. Keeping tabs on what gender went where had required someone on staff to stand in front of the restrooms, much like a traffic cop.

Glad that the ladies' restroom would be finished soon, Dana was ready to get things back in order.

Propelling herself toward her office, Dana had several things on her to-do list. She had decided to have T-shirts printed with the bar's name on them. Many of the other local places had done that with great success. Tourists liked to purchase items that reminded them of where they'd been on vacation.

She was also looking into changing the Blue Note's business cards to have a free drink coupon on the reverse side. She could give these cards out to the area hotels and lodges. This was something she would consider and bring up at the next employee meeting and get other input and ideas from everyone else.

She went into her disorganized office. She had to get end-of-the-month payroll ready, and there were quarterly tax documents to look over.

Dana had barely sat down at her desk when Mark knocked on the office door frame.

“Since when do you knock?” she questioned with a smile, glad to see him appear. Over the past few days, she'd acknowledged to herself that she liked seeing him around. It felt good to be honest with herself.

He tilted his head, the black hair at his nape touching his T-shirt collar. “You got me there.”

His handsome face never failed to appeal to her. His brown eyes had a powerful presence that could be serious or joking. He could use a haircut, but she enjoyed the length at his neck and the way he styled the top away from his forehead. The wristwatch at his wrist glinted as he lowered his arm from the door and came toward her.

“So, I have something for you,” he said, his voice low and very seductive.

She played along, her lips forming an easy smile. “And what's that?”

Leaning over her, his callused finger traced her cheek where it curved at her ear. “The finished ladies' john, baby. Come on, let me show you.”

With a good-natured frown, she rose from the chair wearing flat shoes—an everyday pair she kept beneath her desk. Standing at her full height, the top of her head didn't even meet Mark's chin.

Following him out of her office, she remarked, “I've heard a lot of come-on lines at this bar, but one about new johns has never been on the list.”

“I'm an original.”

“That you are,” she said beneath her breath.

She followed him down the hallway and toward the restrooms, thinking this was an odd thing to be doing. A “reveal” on a new women's room? She'd already seen the men's. It had pretty much looked like it had before aside from the fresh coat of ivory paint with recently installed handicap rails. New flushing wall fixtures
and
the tiny mosquitoes painted by the drains. Cardelle had done
that, the funny man. He'd taken his hate of mosquitoes to a different level.

Mark had put Cardelle up to it, and her response had been to shake her head and roll her eyes the day she'd seen what they'd done.

Now at the closed restroom door, Mark approached behind her, hands on her shoulders. She gave an involuntary shiver, his chest against her back and his groin just at the top swell of her bottom. A thought hit her hard, and she quickly stopped it as Mark slipped his hands over her eyes.

Her fingers curled around his wrists in protest. “What are you doing?”

“I'm going to surprise you.”

“I don't want to be surprised in a bathroom.”

“This isn't just any bathroom now, sweetheart.”

He inched forward, taking her with him and entering the small restroom. She could smell paint and something else. Flowers? She wasn't sure.

Slowly, Mark lowered his hands and her eyes blinked to adjust to the light. Standing in the center of the room, she gazed at the walls and couldn't believe the beautiful transformation. There was no other word for it.

The ladies' room in the Blue Note looked sophisticated.

Aquamarine-blue, silver and gilt, with antique ivory, comprised the color palette. The countertop was a gorgeous silver-and-black granite with elegant freestanding washbasins. The faucets had large handles for hot and cold, a retro feel in their design. Large mirrors with ornate scrollwork gold frames had been mounted at the sink level. Vanity lights reminded her of glass fixtures
from the twenties. Petite glassware lined a shelf along the far wall and held burning candles, their floral fragrance lending a sweet aroma to the room.

Glancing all around to take it in, she couldn't believe it.

“Mark, I don't know what to say,” she finally breathed. “I had no idea this is what you were up to. I figured the plumbing was shot or something.”

His head dipped toward her, his mouth close to hers. “That's the whole point. I wanted you to be surprised.”

“I am.” Then she slipped her arms around his muscled body and brought herself next to his chest, embracing him. “Everything is so beautiful and it feels like New Orleans. I love it. Thank you.”

He felt warm and solid, and safe. Her hands rose softly to his shoulders. The stubble of his beard caught in her hair when he laid his chin on the top of her head. He smoothed her hair, keeping her close.

The moment was tender, new. She took just as much pleasure from this as she did from his kisses. She loved how he felt, smelled. She loved his breath on her neck. She loved…him.

Her fingers toyed with his shirt's cotton sleeve, her mind and thoughts scattered. She couldn't deal with this now. She felt a troublesome ache deep in her heart, in the very core of her body. It was something she'd never felt before. She didn't recognize it, nor did she want to.

Pulling herself together, she straightened out of Mark's hold and sucked in a breath. “So what's the plan?”

“Plan?”

“The other night you said you had something in mind
when I wondered what I should do with you. So what is it, Moretti? You've done all these wonderful things for me and the Blue Note—things I couldn't possibly repay. What do you want from me?”

He rested his butt against the bathroom counter, arms folded across his broad chest. “Your time. Twenty-four hours.”

For all the niceties he'd done, she wished she could just say sure, no problem, I'm yours. But the reality was, she had a business to run. She was entering the weekend, this being Friday. Tonight and tomorrow night were her busiest nights. “I'm sorry, I can't. I have to work and I get Terran Sunday night.”

“Leo can keep an eye on things. I'll pick you up on Saturday and I promise that you'll be back Sunday night to get your son.” He pulled her toward him, nestling her between his open thighs. His firm mouth covered hers, kissing her gently, coaxing a response from her, softly nipping her lower lip.

Of their own accord, her arms rose to circle his neck and bring him close.

“For what?” she questioned against his lips.

“You'll see.”

 

T
HE DRIVE TO
E
AGLE
P
OINT
would take less than an hour.

Mark came for Dana just before noon on Saturday. He set her overnight bag in the truck's bed, along with his ice chest, some things of his own and fishing gear.

They got under way, passing through town and the cruise-ship crowds that collected on street corners to cross and hit the shops. A trolley tour slowed traffic down to a crawl and impatient drivers gave a honk to get things going.

“So whose cabin is this?” Dana asked, facing his direction.

“Bear hooked me up with a guy he knew. The owner only comes into Ketchikan for the summers, but he had to bail earlier than normal this year so the place was vacant.”

She teased, “Convenient.”

“Honey,” he said, slanting his gaze over her. “I told you this is no ploy to get you into bed. If I was angling for sex, I could have had you long ago.”

She shot him a twisted smile. “So what are we going to do?”

With a low laugh, he advised, “Everything.”

“That's a wide-open door.”

“I'd say so.”

Once they left the city streets for the two-lane Tongass Highway, they passed industrial buildings, then the airport and Wal-Mart. Beyond that, the scenery turned lush and green.