Lethal Affair (12 page)

“
What's really going on with
you?” he asked with a whine. It grated on her nerves. “Why are you
avoiding sleeping with me?”

There it was again. That same
question. And now she knew the answer. She tried to jerk free but
he held on tight. “It's this, Drew. You're not giving me a choice
here, physically and otherwise. You're pushing too hard and making
demands that I don't think I can deliver on.”

“
You can learn. It comes
with the territory. Every woman conforms to the needs of her man.
It's only natural.”

That piqued, and how! She struggled in
earnest now and he let go. “I know marriage takes a certain amount
of push and pull, but what you're saying is that you want me to
change who I am while you remain the same. That doesn't work for
me.”

His breathing became shallow and his
eyes sparked and narrowed. She watched in alarm as his fingers
curled into fists. He took a step toward her and she
flinched.

That one little reaction stopped him
cold. Drew took a deep breath and unclenched his hands.

She gave him a moment. Then, quietly,
“This is an area of concern Drew. Are you predisposed to follow in
your father's footsteps?”

She knew she was taking a risk saying
it, knew it might push him over the edge. Better to find out now
though, to see if he had whatever this was under
control.

His shoulders slumped. “I'm not an
ogre, Kylie. You push my buttons. Why do you do that?”

“
If it's me causing the
problem, it's not intentional. I don't go in for physical violence
one iota. It's good this is coming out now. I won't be your
punching bag. Now move aside. I'll see myself out.”

The errant muscle in his cheek did its
little dance but he let her move past him and go to the door. She
turned and looked back at him. Pity. He was such a good looking
man, the kind of looks any woman might fall all over herself to
grapple at in the sack. Too bad it was a tainted
package.

He said, “What about the dinner on
Saturday at my parent's house?”

She blinked. “You still want to do
that?”

He nodded. “I told you before, I'm a
part of your life now. My parents have a right to meet the mother
of their grandchild.”

Her stomach sank. So this would be
troublesome after all. “Are you planning on telling them? I thought
you said they'd be mortified.”

His gaze was level if not menacing. “I
intend to work this out, Kylie. You're tired right now. I get that.
But you'll change your mind. I'll pick you up at six on Saturday.
Wear something appropriate.”

Incredulous, she made her escape. All
the way home Kylie's head swam with the swift turns and shifts in
Drew's personality. Dear God, what if the kid inherited it? Then
she'd deal with it, she raged internally, stamp it out before it
took root. These things were as much developed by circumstances as
they were by genetics.

Weren't they?

* * * *

CHAPTER SEVEN

“
So you're telling me the
clown was responsible?” Lyle asked Kim as they pumped out an order
for a table of four.

Kim's cleaver hit the chopping board
with a decisive whack as he cut grilled lemon tarragon chicken into
strips. “He should'a turned off the valve and disconnected the
nozzle once he was done with the balloons and chipmunk talk. Said
he got distracted by the crowd's enthusiasm and plain forgot. Cost
him his job.”

“
Thank God the kid, what's
his name...?

“
Bart.”

“
Well thank God Bart pulled
through without any brain damage. And that his parents are good
enough friends to let things lie.”

“
Yeah. Big Bart and Amy have
been our neighbors for three years. Carrie and Amy hang out, have
each others backs with the kids. Counts for something.”

Lyle passed a plate decked out with
tuna tar-tare onto the pass-through for Jolene to pick up. He
watched her approach and then load her large tray with four orders,
expertly balance them at shoulder level and walk away. It was a
busy evening with a hungry and noisy crowd, just the way he liked
it.

“
How's the training coming
along, Kemosabe?

Kim snorted. “What did you just call
me?”

“
Don't look so insulted.
It's the Lone ranger's name for his faithful friend.”

Kim cackled. “Scriptwriter came up
with that one. Could mean anything from trusted scout to a horse's
ass! Maybe I should be calling you that.”

Lyle didn't appreciate the remark.
“You saying I'm a horse's ass?”

Still laughing, “If the horseshoe
fits.”

Lyle speared him with a solemn
look.

Kim turned serious. “You started this
thing with Jolene, then tossed it at me the instant things heated
up. She took it personally and you aren't even aware. Maybe you
should send her out to the new location with me come November. 'Cuz
the two of you working side-by-side ain't gonna fly with this thing
between you unresolved.”

“
I know that.” Flustered,
Lyle slammed an earthenware chili pot onto the counter.

Kim raised an eyebrow. “Despite the
fact that we're seven billion strong on this planet right now, it's
hard to find someone you click with. Don't let her slip through
your fingers.”

“
Why you playing cupid all
of a sudden?”

“
Because you are one blind
dude right now and I'm hoping to shed some light. She's a rare find
with a heart of gold. And that, my faithful friend, counts. A
lot.”

Three new orders appeared on the
computer monitor. They worked in tandem, their rhythm finely tuned.
By the end of the shift when the last of their customers had gone
and the kitchen had been cleaned, buffed and polished, they sat at
a corner table drinking their requisite cold beers, reward for a
job well done.

“
I know what I'm going to do
about Jolene,” said Lyle.

Kim took off his hair net and let his
braid unravel. “Can't wait to hear this.”

Lyle grinned. “Don't come in for her
training session tomorrow morning. I'll be giving it to
her.”

“
You'll be...” Kim wiggled
his eyebrows, “giving it to her?”

“
Damn you, now who's the
horse's ass! I need to talk to her, iron this out.”

Kim drained his beer and rose. “You do
that, Tonto. I'm outta here. Going home to my real
life.”

*

Out of breath, Jolene tapped on the
diner door window and waited for Kim to let her in. Running late,
she'd cycled over on her trusty ten speed through early morning
traffic and barely made it on time. A thin sheen of sweat glowed on
her skin as she untied her bike helmet and shook out her copper
curls.

When Lyle swept the door open her
knees turned to jelly. Her first thought was, Oh God, I didn't wear
any makeup and these are my oldest pair of ratty shorts!

He on the other hand, hair net and
all, looked heart-stopping. He took the handle bars of her bike and
steered it inside, propped it against the counter.

“
Want coffee?” he asked,
pouring a cup of his special Colombian brew. “You're wondering why
I'm here instead of Kim.”

She accepted the cup, inhaled, and
sighed. “Hmm. Just let me wake up. Thought maybe I was still
dreaming.”

No game playing for her. Just
straight-to-the-point honesty. It was time for him to take a
lesson. Time for him to put aside his bullshit worries about the
future and hold on to today, this moment in time.

In one fluid movement he took the cup
from her hands, set it aside, then splayed his large hands over her
waist, pulling her in.

Lyle's mouth seized hers. Lip-locked,
every nerve ending in Jolene's body sang hallelujah. Her hands slid
up his chest and over his head where she tore off the hair net and
drove her fingertips through his crop of sandy hair, holding on,
giving back, taking what she craved.

He laid his forehead against hers, his
breathing labored. “I'm not running off this time. Are you sure
this is what you want?”

He was a big man, but her arms fit
around him perfectly. “You're not blind or dumb. You know I want
you. Have since the first day I laid eyes on you.”

Bold and sassy. Altogether
irresistible.

“
We're taking a chance here,
you know that, right?”

Her hazel eyes clouded with passion.
“Stop your hedging. This has been a long time coming and it's high
time we act on it. Right here, right now.”

It was good enough for him. She clung
as he swept her off her feet and carried her to the back room where
he sometimes took catnaps on a fold out cot.

“
I wanted to take you out,”
he murmured against her hair as he placed her gently on the cot,
“make it special.”

She ran her hands over his chest,
feeling his taut muscles bunch in reaction. “You're special.” Her
hands traveled up to encase his face. “Please don't make me wait
any longer.”

He dove in and feasted. No slow simmer
here. It was all flash and sear as he followed his own recipe for
sexual plunder. His large hands roamed all over her silken skin,
exploring as he peeled off the final layer of her clothes, seeking
out and finding her hidden pleasure points. A teasing nip here,
just enough pressure there, mouth hot and wet and
everywhere.

Jolene moaned and writhed and pressed
up against him as though she wanted to meld with him. When he slid
into her it felt sublime, a joining of body and soul, a possession
that said, mine.

He found her sweet spot. And held her
there in a continual, unrelenting assault as her breath caught in
short pants and her eyes glazed over. Her high pitched whimpers
mingled with his own deep moans, placing his barely-there control
in jeopardy. The intensity weakened her, made her entire body
liquify when he finally picked up the pace and brought them both to
a grand slam finale.

They lay in a heap, limbs entwined,
steam rising.

Bliss. Sheer, heavenly bliss, thought
Jolene, just before her insecurities rose along with the
steam.

“
Please tell me this isn't a
one time deal,” she murmured when her breathing
equalized.

Lyle tightened his grip on her and
tilted her head up. “We're just getting started.” He took her hand
and guided it south. “Second serving coming up. Dessert comes
later.”

Hours later Kim arrived to find them
prepping the kitchen for the lunch crowd. He didn't need to ask.
Their individual body languages spelled it out in the form of a
quick smile or a random touch.

Kim went into the back room to change
into his chef outfit. The cot was well made, the sheets hospital
tight, the blanket neatly folded, pillow on top. The tell-tale sign
was in the wet shower stall in the adjacent bathroom, the torn
curtain a testament to how well it had been put to use.

Kim looked upward and mumbled, “Oh
great and honored Spirit, let these two children find their way.”
Then he laughed, at them and at himself. “Or I'll kick that horse's
ass all the way to the Great Hunting Ground in the sky.”

*

Rita Lambert cooed over a rack of baby
sleepers while Kylie sneaked glances at the expensive labels. It
was Saturday afternoon and they'd just come from the obstetrician's
clinic. She'd liked Dr. Lydia Barrymore with her firm instructions
to take vitamins and lecture on the benefits of mild to moderate
exercise. The baby's due date had been estimated to be late March,
which had left Kylie wondering how she would explain to her boss
her situation and handle her work schedule.

She needed to drag her mother out of
Rock the Cradle, the trendy baby boutique where everything was
overpriced. Whispering in Rita's ear, “Mom, don't you still have
that big chest in the attic, the one with all my baby clothes in
it? Let's go through that first.”

Rita longingly fingered soft, cuddly
fabric, then let it drop and followed her daughter out of the
store.

“
Look, there's your
roommate,” said Rita, nodding in the direction of a cyclist heading
their way.

Jolene braked next to them, radiating
sunbeams.

Kylie had it half figured out.
Something had happened with Lyle. “How was your training session
this morning?” she asked.

Jolene raised her arms in triumph.
“I'm a conquered woman!” she announced. Her face infused with red.
“Oh God. Mrs. Lambert. What I mean is...”

“
I may be Kylie's mother but
I'm also a woman.” Rita had gleaned from her daughter Jolene's
absolute crush on Lyle Morris, the big hunky cook at the Village
Diner where she worked. “I know what it means to be
conquered.”

Kylie whacked her mother
affectionately on the arm. “Mom!”

Jolene appreciated the sentiment. She
held a fist dramatically to her heart. “We did it. Finally!” She
let out a whoop.