Jezebel (25 page)

“
You’re so
perfect,” he whispered.

Celeste shook her head. “I’m
no—”

He lowered his head and
used his tongue to slowly trace her lips.

She tasted just as sweet as
he remembered! Even better! Groaning, he claimed her lips and brought
her arms behind her back, trapping her solidly against him. To
soften his aggressive manhandling, he entwined their fingers together
as he slowly drew her tongue into his mouth and led her into a long,
passionate kiss.

His mouth conquered hers in
an endless variety of kisses that progressed from smolderingly
impatient to deliberate exploration of her mouth, her lips, her
tongue.

He
released her arms suddenly, and then with a deliberately taunting
slowness he ran his hands down her sides to her hips, capturing them
then using them to pull her into him. The hard, hot evidence of her
effect on him wedged itself in the V between her legs. Shane groaned
again. The contact gave him a taste of what he wanted so badly.

With an urgency now born of
pure desire and lust, Shane pulled her closer. Soft and womanly, her
body was in direct contrast to his and it almost brought him to his
knees.

The
air grew thick and heavy. No sound permeated the space between them
except for their harsh breathing and her sporadic moans.

Shane felt himself rising
and falling with a sense of urgency born of desire.

At some point, they crossed
an unspoken barrier with him taking liberties and she pulling at his
shirt and the waistband of his pants. Answering in kind and without
releasing her lips, Shane slowly guided her backward pressing her
into the bookcase.

“
I want you so bad,”
Shane bit out between wet kisses down her throat.

He molded her body against
his and she felt his arousal. Mercy! He was big. It would be so easy
to lead him upstairs to her bed, Celeste thought. It wasn’t
like they needed to wait for marriage. She was well beyond that
stage. But that was the rub that put the salt in the wound. She’d
given it up to so many men before him and where did that lead?

A life of melancholies only
made gay at the bottom of a liquor bottle or the next man’s
arms.

If she truly wanted to turn
over a new leaf, things had to be different. For once she didn’t
want this to be purely physical and absolutely nothing to do with
emotion.

Resolved, Celeste pushed on
his shoulders. His gaze met hers, searching then as if reading the
writing on the wall, his hands fell from her body.

“
You want to wait?”
He lowered his head and pressed their foreheads together.

More like needed to wait,
Celeste mused but simply nodded. In all honesty, if he went all cave
man on her and dragged her upstairs she’d let him.

“
Thank you for a
lovely evening.” His voice cracked and he paused to pull on his
collar. “You free Wednesday?”

“
What do you have in
mind,” she gushed. She’d feared he wouldn’t want
to see her after tonight.

“
You tell me. I’m
open to anything and everything.” The double innuendo wasn’t
lost on her.

“
How about dinner and
movie.”

Shane groaned. “You
seriously want to go down that path again?” She chuckled,
causing him to smile in turn. “I’ll agree only if you
cook.”

Of
course, it made perfect sense. They wouldn’t have to worry
about not being served, but there was another obstacle in their path.

“
I—”

Shane pressed his suite, as
if he hadn’t heard her. “I can make it at as early as
six. I don’t have evening conditioning. Ollie goes to evening
Mass.”

“
But I—”

Before she could protest
further, he dove in for another kiss. Hot, passionate and
self-assured, he once again took control. His tongue slipped inside,
taking liberties, imitating the act of sex. He made her heart race
and her legs wobbly.

Get a grip kiddo! You’ve
been kissed hundreds of times.

True. But never like this.

Fortunately, the kiss ended
as soon as it began her fortitude was slipping faster than quick
sand.

“
It’s getting
late. I’d better go,” he said nearly shoving her away,
yet not releasing her, his hands squeezing her upper arms.

“
I—I’ll
walk you out.”

Even though his breathing
was harsh and his green eyes blazed, he nodded.

In silence, they walked to
the front door with Celeste on eggshells. As she closed the door
behind him, she noticed her hands were shaking.

***

“
Are you sure you want
to do this?”

Celeste took the store key
out of the lock and pocketed it. While her cousin Trudy remained on
the sidewalk out front, she walked inside.

“
Mr.
Percy recommended it before the final sale went through. He didn’t
want me to have any regrets.” Celeste walked over and hit the
lights.

“
The place looks
exactly the same,” Trudy whispered.

Celeste
nodded in agreement. The black and white harlequin tiles didn’t
look any worse for wear. Dry goods still sat on the shelves. The
old rickety fan her father always complained about, but refused to
fix, clacked overhead.

Celeste smiled at the bitter
sweetness of this moment. The only thing out of place was her father
stationed near the cash register. Mr. Percy had been true to his
word. Shortly after the police cleared the place, he had the place
cleaned up.

Curious, or maybe a glutton
for punishment, she walked over to the counter.

It
happened here, she surmised, noting the missing top glass. Unable to
help herself, Celeste put her hand through the open hole. She then
closed her eyes and tried reenacting what happened. Step by step,
she envisioned her father going about his closing ritual. After
counting the day’s receipts, he’d straighten the shelves
then sweep the floor.

She got to the part where
her father put a gun to his head and she faltered. She just couldn’t
wrap her head around it. Her father considered it a mortal sin.

“
Do you think after he
shot himself, he fell and hit his head in the counter?”

Celeste whirled on her
cousin so fast, she stumbled backward. “My father didn’t
kill himself. And don’t you say it again.”

Ignoring her cousin’s
frightened look, Celeste stepped around the counter. If she stayed
there one second longer she was going to have a meltdown.

“
But what about the
police report?”

“
All lies,”
Celeste whispered. She stumbled over to one of the shelves to steady
herself. Her world was spinning out of control. “My father
didn’t even own a gun.”

“
You haven’t
lived under your daddy’s roof since you were fifteen. A lot of
things could’ve changed over the years.”

To stave off a fainting
spell, Celeste squeezed her eyes shut. “The Reverend was true
blue. Look at this place. Those walls have been mint green ever
since I learned to hobble around in my braces.” Stricken with
rickets at the age of three, Celeste had stays for more than five
years.

A crazy idea suddenly hit
her. “Go with me to the police.”

Trudy stepped forward and
placed her hand over Celeste’s forehead. “You’ve
had too much sun.” Indignant, Celeste slapped her cousin’s
hand away.

“
Stop playing around.
I’m serious. Will you go with me to the police?”

“
What’s that
going to solve?”

“
I think if I saw the
gun…or…or if I talked to someone else.” Even
Celeste noted the rising, almost shrill tone in her voice. It was
sobering. Forcing her voice down an octave, she said, “You have
to see what I see.”

Trudy
squeezed her hand. “I do, but unlike you I realize it won’t
change a thing.”

“
But—”

“
But, nothing,”
Trudy interrupted before she could run off into another wild tangent.
“No amount of digging is going to bring the Reverend back.”
Trudy tugged on Celeste’s hand, pulling her into a sisterly
hug. “And it definitely won’t change the past. You were
never and still are not daddy’s girl. So stop trying.”

Why did Trudy have to hit
her below the belt and with the truth, no less?

Allowing her cousin to walk
her to the entrance, Celeste moved mechanically, while her mind
remained a jumble of emotions.

She didn’t look back
and she was glad of Trudy’s ceaseless chatter that carried them
out of the store and away from the past.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Celeste hurried into the
kitchen and put down the packages she picked up from the grocery
store on the way home from rehearsals.

Hopping on one foot, she
proceeded to yank off her black Mary Janes, while unloading the
ingredients for tonight’s dinner. Maybe she shouldn’t
have given Maggie the night off. She could use an extra hand right
now.

Shane
was coming over for dinner tonight at six and it was already half
past two, so she needed to get busy if she wanted things to turn out
perfectly.

Celeste worried her bottom
lip. She and cooking were an oxymoron. She couldn’t boil
water without scalding it.

She
tried telling Shane she’d never learned to cook, but he kept
cutting her off with those delicious kisses of his. So here she was
about to fix a traditional Italian dinner because she thought it
would be romantic.

Of course, she didn’t
know anything about Italian cuisine and neither did Maggie.
Fortunately, she had one ace up her sleeve. Despite eschewing
feminine trappings, interests and hobbies, her cousin Trudy was an
extraordinary cook.

“
Honey I’m
home!” Trudy announced from the foyer.

Celeste stuck her head
through the crack in the kitchen door. “In the kitchen.”

Do you have everything?”
she asked, rolling up her shirt sleeves.

“
Yep,” Celeste
assured her. “I bought everything on the list you gave me.”

“
Good.
It shouldn’t take us too long to get everything ready. I baked
the lady fingers earlier today for the tiramisu.”

Trudy
eyed the items Celeste had bought from the grocer’s. During
her cousin’s inspection, she held her breath and waited. She
wanted this night to be perfect.

“
You did well.”
Trudy brought a plump green pepper to her nose and sniffed.

Smiling from ear to ear,
Celeste tied on her apron. “If you don’t mind me asking,
how did you learn to cook Italian cuisine?”

“
Do you remember
Louigi Bellasano?”

“
The mobster that used
to come into the Plantation?”

“
The one and only.”

Celeste’s eyes
widened. “He could barely speak English?”

“
He didn’t need
to. He had other talents.” Trudy’s eyes took on a faraway
look. “One of the best lovers I ever had. I should’ve
had children with him.”

Celeste snorted. “Who
are you kidding, Tru? You hate kids.”

Trudy
screwed up her nose. “Stinky and sticky.”

Over
the next two hours, they prepared the night’s menu, which
consisted of bruschetta served with olive oil, farsumaguru (a
Sicilian meat roll), sautéed eggplant, and tiramisu for
dessert.

“
Are you sure you
don’t need me to stay?” Celeste looked up from the
tomatoes she was chopping for the bruschetta.

“
I should be all
right.” With everything waiting in the oven, they’d
tackled the hard part. Celeste wiped her hands on her apron as she
came around the table. “You can go on home and get ready for
your gig tonight. I should be fine.”

“
Are you sure?”

Celeste steered her to the
front door. “I’ll be fine,” she promised. “Plus
what can go wrong? All I have to do is turn on the oven and watch
the time.”

***

Celeste straightened the
place settings on the dining room table for the hundredth time. Two
hours ago, Trudy had left with strict instructions for the meal’s
completion.

Shortly
after, Celeste rushed upstairs to bathe and dress. Wanting to
impress Shane, she’d chosen a purple dress made of a
lightweight satin. Bias cut, the knee-length dress was accented with
a v-neck bodice and short ruffled sleeves. She was strapping on a
pair of Mary Janes, made of a gun metal colored leather, when the
doorbell rang.

Celeste glanced at the clock
on her vanity table. He was early! As if on cue her pulse quickened.
She looked at herself in the table’s triple mirror. Her eyes
were practically smoldering and her high cheek bones had filled with
color. Maybe having dinner steps away from her bedroom was a bad
idea.