Authors: Tamara Larson
“I have no clue, but don’t worry about it, Jess. He’s a piss-ant. He won’t do anything. He’s only good at intimidating little girls. Besides, judging from the protective way
Duncan
treated Terri-Lynne last night, Diego isn’t going to be out on the streets for long.”
“I hope you’re right.” Jessie said, hesitantly.
“I am. So, what are you going to do when Prince Charming calls?”
“I’ve left the answering machine on. He won’t get through.”
“Jess.” Jamie said loudly, clearly shocked. She shook her head in disbelief. “That is so childish. I can’t believe you’re being such a brat.”
“I just need some time to think of what I’m going to say,” Jessie said defensively. “He probably won’t call anyway.”
“Yeah, right. You know what this is all about, don’t you?”
“Now you’re going to play the stripper psychiatrist, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be nasty. I’m just trying to help. I did minor in psych after all.”
Jessie propped her head up on one hand and braced herself for Jamie’s analysis. “Okay, Dr. Cinnamon Spice. What’s your diagnosis?”
“It’s so obvious.” Jamie rolled her eyes. “You don’t want to get your emotions involved because you’re afraid of getting hurt. After what happened with Mom and Dad, you don’t want to care about anyone because you think they’ll leave you. You’re rejecting Detective Cunnilingus before he can reject you. Very crafty if you want to spend the rest of your life alone with about a million cats.”
At the mention of their parents, Jessie’s expression turned cold and remote. She stood up stiffly and walked away from her sister to the cashier’s desk. Over her shoulder she said, in a carefully controlled voice, “That’s ridiculous. This has nothing to do with them. And I don’t want to be analyzed anymore.”
Jamie stood up and approached her sister warily. “Alright. I won’t say another word about it, but think about it. Why else would you be overreacting like this? You’re scared and you’re grasping at straws to protect yourself…”
“Jamie, that’s enough. You don’t know what you’re talking about. When was the last time you really committed to anyone anyway?” Jessie asked, turning around, she pointed at her sister and narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like you might be the scared one.”
Jamie shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe, but we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and this great guy who obviously cares a lot about you. Are you really going to throw that away over a late phone call?”
Jessie sighed. “It’s more than that. And this discussion is over, right now, okay?”
“Okay. I’m done. I’ll stay out of it.” Jamie held her arms up in surrender.
Jessie smiled. “No, you won’t.”
Jamie smiled back. “No, I won’t.”
Chapter
16
Duncan
looked at the phone in his hand in puzzlement. This was the third time he’d called Forgotten Treasures since the store opened an hour ago and he still wasn’t getting through to Jessie. The answering system kept picking up.
Had she slept in maybe, or just forgotten to turn off the system?
Duncan
felt a wave of unease pass over him. Was she okay? Had something happened to her last night? He’d meant to call when he and Theresa got home last night, but had realized too late that he didn’t actually have her home number. And she seemed to be unlisted, of course. He could have gotten her number through work, but he hadn’t wanted to bother them that late. Besides, the last thing he needed was a reputation at work for using the department to track down women’s phone numbers.
He’d even thought about leaving Theresa alone in his apartment after she’d settled in, and going to Jessie’s apartment. But it hadn’t seemed right to abandon his sister on her first night in a new place. Now, he wished he’d gone. Anything was better than worrying about Jessie like this.
Duncan
slammed the phone down in frustration and sat down in one of the barstools positioned around the granite countertop in his kitchen. He picked up the receiver again and reached for his grandmother’s number, but something stopped him. He’d wait until Theresa was up. Calling Evelyn behind his sister’s back seemed sneaky somehow, so he set the phone back in the cradle.
Hannibal
looked up at him questioningly.
Duncan
threw the dog a piece of bacon from his plate to distract him. The poodle caught it in mid-air and chomped it down in two bites, then returned to staring at
Duncan
.
Duncan
took a small bite of his eggs and looked out the window to avoid the dog’s strangely knowing gaze.
Duncan
could see his own reflection in the glass, including the dozen tiny scraps of toilet paper he’d had to dab on to staunch the bleeding from his shave that morning. Last night, Theresa had snuck into his bathroom and used his shaver on her legs without his permission. Today he looked like he’d taken a cheese grater to his face. Having a girl around the house again was going to take a lot of getting used to, but he didn’t find the idea nearly as distasteful as he had at first. In fact, the sight of his mangled face made him grin ruefully at his predicament.
After Theresa had hurriedly slipped on some jeans and a sweatshirt at the club last night, they’d stopped for something to eat at a tiny little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in
China
town. There, Theresa had amused and shocked him by eating enough food to make a sumo wrestler groan. He’d also surprised himself by matching her dish for dish. It was the first time in a long time that he could remember actually being hungry. He attributed his renewed appetite to relief at having his sister safely sitting across from him and away from that Diego character. He’d also slept the sleep of the dead last night and woke up feeling refreshed and rested for a change. Usually he was groggy and downright nasty until he stumbled into the kitchen for his first cup of coffee.
He’d taken a personal day from work this morning. He’d never done that before. He hadn’t even called in sick when he’d had a mild case of pneumonia a few years ago. His work was too important to him. But today he decided to take some time to get Theresa settled in and get to know her a little bit.
Also, he didn’t feel quite comfortable leaving his sister alone when Diego was still out wandering around. He’d talked to Percy, the manager of the club last night, and apparently Diego was very angry about losing his latest meal ticket. Until
Duncan
could come up with some charges against the man that weren’t related to Theresa, he would try to make sure she wasn’t wandering around unescorted. His grandmother would kill him if the press got hold of the story that Theresa had lived with a pimp for two weeks and worked in a strip club. If the man had harmed Theresa, he would have been the first to slap on the cuffs, but Diego hadn’t, at least not physically. Which made
Duncan
wonder if the slimy little worm was smarter than he had suspected.
In the mean time,
Duncan
would concentrate on his new role as big brother, starting with breakfast. His domestic skills on his very best day were meager, but he’d managed to make a real meal of scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and orange juice without breaking anything but egg shells or lighting anything on fire. He usually grabbed a donut or a bagel at work, but today he was trying to make a good impression. He’d actually walked to the corner store for ingredients very early this morning. Usually his fridge was a complete wasteland of beer and condiments. But for Theresa’s benefit he’d at least make an effort to eat like a human. Unfortunately, she wasn’t up yet to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
His thoughts turned once again to Jessie. He’d been like a mad man last night. What had he been thinking, dragging her into the Ladies Room like that? She was a virgin. Decent men didn’t seduce virgins in the bathrooms of strip clubs, did they? He had no reasonable explanation for his behavior. Temporary insanity was the only plausible excuse.
It hadn’t gotten much better later that night. Lying in his giant four-poster bed after getting Theresa settled into her room,
Duncan
had contemplated what it would be like to have her there next to him. Not just under him, or better yet, on top of him, but with him. His wife had preferred to sleep in her own room, so he’d spent most nights without someone to share his bed. In truth, he had been relieved to give Kerry her privacy. She’d never been particularly cuddly or sensual, and he’d had to tiptoe precariously around her moods.
He’d been alone so much that he’d forgotten what it was like to have a warm body next to him in the bed, or hear someone else breathing softly as he fell asleep. He hadn’t realized exactly how lonely he was until he’d pictured Jessie’s face, with her shy smile and soft brown eyes, on the pillow beside him.
Clearly, he hadn’t been himself since he met her and he was beginning to think that was a good thing. No, make that a great thing. Just the thought of her last night made him feel overheated. She’d been so responsive to his touch, so wild during her climax, so sweet and mortified afterward. He regretted that last part, but the rest made him hunger for her like he’d never imagined possible. She consumed him. He felt like he’d contracted some bizarre, tropical disease that made him constantly fevered and hard. He’d read somewhere about a condition that actually did do that, called Priapism after some Greek God of procreation. Of course, one of the drawbacks of the disease was that the victim usually went insane from unrelieved desire.
Duncan
didn’t think he’d have that problem, at least judging from the number of times he’d nearly lost control over the past two days.
Duncan
couldn’t wait to see Jessie again, but there was a problem. How was he going to explain to his sister that he was still technically married, but pursuing a relationship with the demure bookstore owner? He’d sent off a telegram to Kerry in
Monte Carlo
yesterday requesting her to sign the divorce papers he’d had forwarded to her two years ago, but so far, there hadn’t been any response from his estranged wife. That didn’t really surprise him. Knowing Kerry, she would much prefer to retain her current wife status. He’d never bothered to push the issue before because he didn’t really have any reason to be single—at least not until he’d met Jessie.
It wasn’t that he thought Theresa would be appalled by his complicated marital status, she probably wouldn’t care that much. He was the problem. He didn’t want to set that kind of vaguely slimy example for her. Didn’t want to appear like the type of guy that would carry on a relationship with one woman while technically still committed to another. He knew many people did this without a thought, but he didn’t want to be one of them. Theresa had seen so much—too much. It was important for her to also see that not everyone was morally bankrupt.
Duncan
was leaning over and putting a plate together from the leftovers when Theresa strolled in, yawning and pulling at the seat of one of his T-shirts to cover more of her thighs. She smiled at him, patted
Hannibal
’s head, and sat down at the counter across from him, bringing her legs up to her chin. Grabbing a piece of bacon, she said, “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
Duncan
thought about insisting that she go back to her room and put some more clothes on, but didn’t want to look like a prude. He usually walked around in his boxers, but even he’d made a concession to her presence by donning knee-length khaki shorts and a Vancouver Canucks T-shirt this morning. It wasn’t just that her state of undress made him uncomfortable, he was also pretty sure it was inappropriate to be around a scantily clad teenager, even if they were related. Instead of ordering her to her room, he made a note to buy her several sets of oversized, plaid, flannel pajamas, and smiled back at her. “Well, first things first, we should phone Grandmother and let her know you’re all right.”
All the color drained from Theresa’s face. She set the bacon down and looked up at him with huge, pleading, dark blue eyes. “Can’t we wait?” She asked, holding out a hand to grasp his wrist tightly.
Duncan
patted her hand awkwardly. “No, I’m sorry, Theresa.” He couldn’t bear to call her Terry. It was just too close to Kerry. “We can’t. If it hadn’t been so late when we came home last night I would have called her then.” Theresa pulled her hand away and looked at the floor, her full bottom lip pouching out in an impressive pout.
Duncan
sighed and continued. “Every second we delay just means more worry for her. She’s an old lady. We don’t want to make her more anxious than necessary, do we?”
Duncan
became aware that he sounded vaguely like Mr. Rogers.
Theresa glared up at him. “Yes, WE do, actually. She deserves it,” she said with her teeth clenched and an indignant sniff.
At a complete loss,
Duncan
sat back down in his chair next to her and gave
Hannibal
a confused look. The dog just stared at the plate of bacon and whined. “You don’t mean that. What did she do exactly?”
“She betrayed me,” Theresa wailed as she wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face in them.
Duncan
tried valiantly not to laugh at her theatrical tone and body language. Maybe she was cut out for the theatre. He smothered his choked laughter with a cough and asked the expected question, trying to sound appropriately serious. “How did she ‘betray’ you exactly?”