When Sparks Fly (12 page)

“I’m going to let mine go, too,” Hannah said. “Me, too,” cried Erica. The three girls pointed and exclaimed as the fireflies danced upon the night sky, hovering and dashing about, their lights flickering.

“That was good thinking, Mom,” Joe said, winking at Monica.

“Thanks. I wouldn’t have minded her keeping them in her room but I didn’t want to explain why they all died in the middle of the night. I still remember the first time it happened to me. I was heartbroken.”

“First time? You mean you murdered them more than once?”

She laughed. “At least I didn’t pull their glow lights off and wear them as rings, like my best friend, Leigh, did.”

“That’s horrible!” Joe exclaimed, looking horrified. “Torturing poor helpless fireflies like that.”

“I know. But she grew up to become a famous horror author so I guess it served her well.”

“You don’t mean Leigh Michaels, do you? I love her books!”

“One and the same. I’ll be sure to tell her the next time I talk to her.” She looked at her watch. “It’s getting late. I need to get Kimber to bed. We have a busy weekend ahead of us.”

“Yes, we do. I’ll walk you back to the house.” Waiting while she said her goodnights to his family, he tried not to dwell on how little time they had left together. Most of the next day would be taken up by the barbeque and the day after with the parade and Fourth of July picnic. Not sure when Frankie would have her car ready, he didn’t see her delaying her departure any longer than necessary.

Once in the house, he waited in the kitchen while she put Kimber to bed, chuckling when he heard her agree to forego the girl’s bath. Leaning against the counter, he crossed his feet at the ankles, wondering how far he could take things. He wanted to sleep with her but he wanted more than sex. He wanted it to mean something to her. He already knew what it would mean to him.

“That didn’t take long. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow,” Monica remarked, walking into the room. Tilting her head to the side she studied his face, wondering what had him looking so serious. “Everything okay?” He straightened and pushed away from the counter, closing the gap between them. His eyes were dark and she wondered if he was angry but as he drew near she saw she had misread the emotion. Desire burned in his eyes, smoldering, the heat transferring to her, filling her with an ache that only he could sooth.

“Monica….” Her name was a question and she knew what he was asking. Placing her arms around his neck, she leaned up and kissed him, their passion exploding into a raging inferno. His hands roamed her body, caressing her ass, cupping the cheeks and pulling her flush against him. She could feel his erection burning into her and her body responded, softening, throbbing, dampening her panties.

“Ahem. Don’t mind me.”

Startled, Monica pulled away, breaking off the kiss. She turned her head to see Bill standing in the doorway, clearly amused by the sight he had walked in on. Extricating herself from Joe’s arms, she fixed her blouse, wondering how it had become unbuttoned. Glancing at him, she almost giggled when he gave her a wink before turning to his father.

“Can I get you something, Dad?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Bill replied with a wave of his hand. “Go back to what you were doing.”

“Doubtful,” Joe muttered under his breath though both Monica and Bill heard him.

“I’d best be going to bed,” she stated, grimacing at her choice of words. Her body screamed at her to go to bed…with Joe. Fleeing the room before she said anything else, she missed the look on his face as he watched her leave.

“Anything you’d like to talk about, son?” Bill shuffled over to the table and sat down. His palsy was more noticeable when he was tired and his hand trembled slightly against the arm of his chair. “She sure is something.”

“Yes, she is,” Joe agreed, pulling out a chair and lowering himself into it. “I like her, Dad. A lot. Kimber, too.”

“Have you told her that?”

“Not in so many words.”

“Yeah, I saw the way you were carrying on a conversation.” Bill gave his son a sly grin.

“It’s more than that, what you saw. I really like her. She’s intelligent and witty and….”

“A great conversationalist?”

Joe flushed. “That, too. When I think of her leaving, my gut clenches.” Noting the expression on his father’s face, he was quick to clarify. “This isn’t the way it was with Hayley. Not even close. I’ve tried to draw a comparison and can’t. Monica is way out of Hayley’s league. Mine, too, for that matter. Hell, she’s a lawyer, for God’s sake!”

“I want you to listen to me and listen good. No woman is out of your league if she’s the right woman. I don’t care if she’s President of the United States! Do you love her?”

“I don’t know. I barely know her. We haven’t had much time together. And she’ll be gone in a few days.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Joe stood up and began pacing the kitchen. “I don’t know why she’d stay. She has a new job to get to, a new life to start. She told me if her car hadn’t have broken down, she never would’ve stopped in Celebration.”

“Son, never question the ‘why’ something happened. Give thanks that it did and figure out a way to make it permanent.” Pushing his chair back, Bill stood, resting against the table for a moment before walking over to his son. Placing his hands on Joe’s arms, he gripped them firmly. “If you care about her, if you think there’s something there, then tell her. Don’t let her leave without stating your case. It’s only after she has all the information that she’ll be able to make a solid decision.” Nodding his head to reinforce his words, Bill dropped his hands and shuffled out of the kitchen.

“Goodnight, Dad,” Joe called after him. “Thanks.” Bill waved his hand in response and continued to his room. Alone again, Joe thought about the advice his father had given him. Tell Monica how he felt. The problem, it seemed, was time. When would he have a chance to talk to her, one on one? He thought about slipping down the hall to see if she was awake but decided against it, not wanting to disturb Kimber. “Another time,” he said aloud, then left the house and walked to the garage, climbing the stairs to his apartment, loneliness enveloping him upon entering the empty residence. Funny how it’d never bothered him before.

Even Leroy had deserted him, opting to stay with his new best friend. Joe smiled, thinking about how quickly the dog had taken to Kimber. About as quickly as he’d taken to her mother. Running his hands over his face, he realized how tired he was. It had been a long day, and his emotions were all over the place. The best thing he could do was get a good night’s sleep. The following day was going to be hectic. As fun as Callaghan parties were, they were exhausting, and he knew the day after would be busy, too.

Lying on his bed in the dark, he thought about Monica and how good it felt holding her. Each time they kissed the chemistry between them grew stronger and he knew it wouldn’t take much of a catalyst to push them over the edge. If his father hadn’t walked in when he did there’s no telling what might have happened. Hell, he’d practically undressed her right there in his parents’ kitchen. That’s not how he wanted it. He wanted to take it slowly, savor every moment with her, caress her skin, learn her likes and dislikes.

With a groan, he rolled onto his side and covered his head with a pillow in an attempt to muffle his thoughts. The position did little to ease his discomfort, both physically and mentally. He was hard as a rock, had been since their make-out session in the kitchen, and even the cold shower he’d taken before coming to bed had done little to give him relief. What had she done to him? She’d consumed him; his thoughts, his dreams, oh yeah, his body. And if he was completely honest with himself, his heart.

‡
Chapter Eight

“So you’re Monica.” Loren shouted to be heard over the music blaring from speakers set up in the yard. Giving her the once over, he took a swig of beer and looked at his friend, nodding in his direction. “I can see why you’re head over heels, bro.”

“Shut up,” Joe muttered, risking a glance at Monica. Afraid Loren had embarrassed her, instead he found her grinning at him.

“Been talking about me, huh?” she teased, her eyes twinkling.

“Maybe just a little,” he admitted. “I told them you make the best brownies I’ve ever tasted.”

“Is that so?” Leaning close, she whispered in his ear, “Just wait until you taste my chocolate chip cookies.”

He burst out laughing. “That’s not what I was expecting you to say.”

“Oh?” she asked, striking a demure pose. “What were you expecting?”

“Not that,” he answered, still chuckling. Addressing his friend who was staring at them curiously, he said, “Private joke.”

“Mmm…hmm.” Loren took another pull on his bottle, watching the two interact. He had no doubts as to why his friend liked Monica; she was gorgeous, seemed intelligent, and had a great sense of humor. He was happy to see that she genuinely appeared to like Joe. Her affection towards him was real, that was plain to see. Not like that whore, Hayley, who’d trampled his heart. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Gonna hit the grill before Frankie eats all the burgers.”

“So that’s Loren. Hmm…not what I pictured,” Monica commented, sprawling out on a blanket spread on the ground.

“What did you picture?” Joe asked, plopping down beside her.

“Blonde, blue eyes, stacked….”

Joe spit out his mouthful of beer. “What?”

Sitting up, she explained. “Our first night here, when your mom told you that Loren called, I thought he was a she. I spent that entire evening wondering what kind of woman Joe Callaghan takes on a date.”

“Let’s see,” he said, pretending to think about it. “Tall, blonde, blue eyes, stacked…I’m just kidding!” Throwing his hands up to fend off her playful blows, he caught hold of her arms and pinned them to her side. Pushing her back down on the blanket, he lay next to her, trying to keep some semblance of propriety due to the number of people, including young children, in attendance. Kissing her lightly, he nibbled on her lips, which tasted like strawberry. Not sure if it was lip gloss or from the bottled daiquiri she’d been drinking, he dipped his head intending to sample them again.

“Am I interrupting?”

‘Yes’, Joe mouthed, causing Monica to giggle. He stood up, offering her his hand to help her up too. Squinting, he greeted the man who had interrupted them. “Hey, Doc. How’ve you been?”

“No major changes in my life since I last saw you, Joseph, which I believe was two days ago.” Ted Rutledge looked around the yard. “I swear, you Callaghans sure know how to put on a party.” A Frisbee sailed past, narrowly missed his head and he stepped aside to avoid being run down by the group of squealing children chasing after it. “My granddaughter, Allison, is in that crowd somewhere,” he remarked. “Made fast friends with your daughter.”

“Kimber makes friends easily,” Monica replied, unable to disguise the pride in her voice. “She’s been having a great time here.”

“Pity she has to leave. Ah, well, I guess all good things must come to an end.” Noting the arrival of a new guest, the doctor excused himself and hurried over to greet Hilary Talbridge, a recent transplant to Celebration.

“Ted’s sweet on her,” Joe commented, watching the doctor work his charms on the divorcée. “He’s been a widower for over twenty years and he’s constantly on the prowl for the new Mrs. Ted Rutledge. He’s come close a few times but when it gets down to it, no one measures up to his late wife, Louise. Kind of sweet in a way.” Looking over at Monica, he noticed an odd expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. Walking over to the food table set up near the house, she picked up a plate and began piling fixings on a bun. The smell of grilling burgers was making her mouth water and she worked her way along, loading her plate with more food than she could eat in a week, all the while doing her best to ignore Joe.

He stayed beside her, filling his own plate though he had no appetite. He hadn’t missed Ted’s comment about her leaving and judging by her reaction it didn’t seem to be sitting well with her. “Excuse me,” he said, reaching past her to grab some lettuce, intentionally rubbing his arm against hers. The flush on her face said she wasn’t as unaware of him as she was pretending.