C's Comeuppance: A Bone Cold--Alive novel (16 page)

“C—”

He interrupted. “Charles, remember?”

“Very well. Charles, I don’t think…”

“Well, you don’t have to think, Jemma. I’ve been doing enough for both of us. I tried to do what I thought was best for me, thinking that in doing so, I’d be doing what was best for all of us. Abby, me, you.” His forearms flexed as he kneaded the desk edge. His voice was husky. “I went away and then I tried to stay away.”

Jemma fought to tamp down the urge to crawl under his arms and bolt for the office door. The office door—she took a quick glance—which was standing wide open. She couldn’t see Carolyn, but she could hear her, humming at her desk, rolling the filing cabinet drawers open and shut, probably playing solitaire on the computer and trying to hear every word being spoken in Jemma’s office.

But C was pitching his voice low, and while Jemma knew she could shout and be heard, to her shame, she realized she didn’t want to.

“Looking for an escape route?” C watched her face as she turned it back to him. “I left the door open for a reason.”

“So I’d feel secure?”

“Don’t act as if I don’t have a sincere bone in my body.” He winked at her. “I have at least one.” As if to prove his point, he gave his hips the slightest thrusting motion.

“That was so juvenile.”

“Just when you thought I might grow up, huh?”

“No, it just proves that all men are alike. I can well picture Wiley Rose doing the same thing.” She crossed her arms, a bit more protection from him, since words didn’t seem to be enough and he hadn’t moved his arms from caging her. “To be honest, I can imagine my brother doing it, too.”

“The banker?”

“Well, they do have sex, you know.”

“Really?” He drew back slightly. “So that’s where all that money comes from.”

Jemma fought the smile that played at her lips. “For someone who can be so clever with words, you certainly have not done a good job guarding your reputation.”

“You’re saying I have a, ah, bad reputation?” She cocked an eyebrow as he continued. “And I earned every little piece of it.” He leaned to where their noses almost touched. “A piece at a time. Know what I mean?”

She pushed at him in disgust, but he held onto the desk edge and just laughed at her. She pushed harder a second time, but he caught her around the waist and trapped her hands between their bodies. Her fingers splayed on his chest as he adjusted his hold around her, bringing his left hand up between her shoulders and his right one to fit her more snugly to him.

“Charles, fun’s fun, but this is over.”

“No, sweetheart, this is only beginning.”

She could feel his breath on her face as he talked, and the warmth of his hands spread through the cotton of her vest and blouse. She felt his restraint as he kept his fingers from inching down onto her hips. Through his knit shirt she could feel his chest muscles tighten and his heart-rate increase.

“Jemma, let me kiss you.”

“You would seem to have me in a position where you could do as you please.”

“Now you know that’s not so with a very open door.” He lowered his face to where their noses touched. “I want to kiss you and I want you to let me. Not like before. I apologize for before. The, ah, the temptation was too great.”

“But you’ve learned how to curb that ol’ temptation, right?” His eyes were so close, they seemed to cross in front of hers. She felt the vibrations in his chest as he talked, felt his breath on her lips, felt herself quicken involuntarily to the maleness of him. Her body was betraying her.

“I’m trying to learn how to use it to my own advantage.”

“So this kiss would be an apology for the first one?”

“Whatever you want it to be. Me? This kiss makes it or breaks it.” He pulled back, balanced her with the palms of his hands. “What if it’s awful? Why should I pursue this with a woman I can’t stand to kiss?” His attitude was pure righteous indignation. “I’ll need to pack up my bags, kiss Norm good-bye and head on back to where my considerable talents are appreciated.”

“So I’m supposed to say ‘okay, go on, kiss me’ and then make it awful?”

“No, you’re supposed to say, ‘okay, go on, kiss me’ and then knock my socks off with how wonderful it is.” He gathered her back into this arms and Jemma didn’t resist him. “Because the memory of it has to do me until the next time.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?”

“Not until you ask me.”

“Are you making this up as you go along?”

“No, I’ve given this considerable thought. I’m going to kiss you and it is going to be a to-die-for kiss. One kiss.” He looked at her sternly. “Just one. That is all this offer is good for. Then when you want another one, you’re going to have to ask.”

She started laughing. “Buddy, you have the biggest damn ego! Like one kiss from you and it’s all over for a woman!”

“Trust me. One kiss from me has never been enough for any woman.”

“Well, one was enough for me!” She pushed at him gently.

“That one didn’t count. We were under duress.” He took her arms and put them around his neck, scooted his body to match hers. “Ready?”

“I think you’ve ruined Norm’s pictures with all this movement on top of them.”

“We’ll get more. Now are you ready?”

Her hands cupped the back of his neck, felt the weight of his ponytail as it rested against them. She tried to draw her eyes away from his lips but she couldn’t. “Since when did I agree to this?”

“Since you didn’t say no.” He lowered his mouth to hers. “Close your eyes, Jemma.”

She didn’t know why she obeyed, but she did. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the touch of his lips. Soft, experienced lips. Lips that moved over hers with a lightness she wouldn’t have thought possible. Lips that molded. Lips that caressed. His tongue eased in to touch hers, then withdrew and invited her response. And she had one. Unbelievable to her, she had one. Her lips parted and a little gasp found its way from her betraying throat. Her body completed its betrayal by arching to him and desiring his hands on her hips. He kept them above her waist, didn’t move them to the sides of her breasts. He’d asked for a kiss and that was all he took.

The sound of the open office door crashing back against the wall tore them apart as if cold water had been flung on them. Mandy lay on the floor in a faint.

Jemma scrambled to her feet and ran to the girl. From the other room, Carolyn hustled in. The three of them stood over her.

“Funny,” C said as Mandy stirred, the newly minted driver’s license clutched in her hand, “that’s the reaction I expected from you.”

***

“Ooh, my head.” Mandy tried to sit up and rub the back of her head at the same time. She squinted her eyes and gave herself over to her aunt’s careful prodding.

“Honey, you okay? What happened?”

“Are you kidding?” Mandy handed Jemma the license and used both hands to minister to her head. “I come in here and I see you kissing a man! And not just
any
man, but Eddie C!” She widened her eyes and spotted him leaning on the desk, well away from all the female consolation. “Him!” Mandy sighed. “Ohmigod, Aunt Jemma!” She started to swoon and Jemma caught her.

“I don’t suppose you could pick her up and put her on the couch?” Jemma turned to look at the object of her niece’s rapture. He eased himself off the desk and strode over.

“Sure my touch won’t give her a heart attack?”

“Give me a break.”

“Been trying to.” He winked at her and easily picked up the teen, carrying her into the outer office and placing her gently on the couch.

Carolyn bustled in with a baggie of ice from the donut shop and placed it on the back of Mandy’s head. The girl grimaced.

“I suppose I could go now.” C looked over at Jemma as she sat beside Mandy on the couch and patted her shoulder.

“I suppose you should.”
She didn’t look at him.

“Could Carolyn take your place for just a minute? I need to tell you one little-bitty thing.” He eased to the front door and opened it in anticipation she would join him.

Jemma looked over at Carolyn, who quickly perched precariously beside Mandy. The teen rolled her eyes to follow Jemma’s progress to the door.

C waited on just the other side of the door and held his hand up when Jemma got there. “I just wanted you to know that even though that kiss was interrupted, I’ll not be giving another in its place.” He held up an index finger for emphasis. “The deal’s still on. Next time you need a kiss from me, you have to ask.”

Jemma smiled at him and reached over his shoulder for his ponytail. She pulled it to the front of his body and held it up for him. “You see this lovely blond color? Well, Charles, my man, it will be gray or gone before I
need
a kiss from you!”

A sardonic smile crossed his face and he leaned toward her. “Well, okay, then, if you insist. All you have to do is
want
one. Same deal.” He backed up a step. “Whether you need me or want me, I’ll be at Norm’s.” He doffed an imaginary hat, stuck his hands in his back pockets, and strode across the parking lot to DamSite.

Jemma turned back to her charge. “Mandy, this had better not be the start of an exciting week just because your folks are gone.”

“Goodness, Aunt Jemma!” The girl struggled to a sitting position, still holding the ice bag in place. “I wasn’t the one tongue-ing Eddie C!”

Chapter Fifteen

C
stopped at the front door of DamSite and rotated his shoulders, stretched his neck. Where there had been five pickups in the parking lot when he and Norm had arrived thirty minutes ago, now there were no less than a dozen. He quelled the smile that he’d been carrying since leaving an open-mouthed Jemma. It was show time. He froze his face into a mask of indifference and went in.

He’d been in nightclubs that weren’t as smoky. The smell of cigars, and not very good ones at that, blasted his nostrils. A blue-white haze circled with the ceiling fan in the main office, making the darkly paneled office even harder to see in.

“Don’t you people ever open windows?” He coughed once and swung the front door on its hinges, trying to generate a breeze to blow through the smoke.

“Nah, we’ve found the best cure is for the complainer to join us. Here, catch!” Wiley Rose sat at his secretary’s desk, his back to the wall, his booted feet propped up in the middle of her desk blotter, very near her keyboard. He tossed a cigar C’s way. C caught it and sailed it back without looking at it.

“Not good enough for you?” Wiley postured a bit before pocketing the two-dollar special. The other men in the room champed appreciatively on theirs. C wondered where the secretary from the other day had gotten off to, then decided it was just as well she was gone. This meeting didn’t exactly look female-friendly.

“Believe it or not, Wiley,” C started his explanation as he took the chair beside Norm and turned it around so he could straddle it and still be the center of attention, “the one vice, the only vice, I’ve ever given up is smoking. It was ruining the quality of the ol’ chords.” He touched at his throat. “Doesn’t matter how good or bad the stogie is, if it’s ruining the ol’ pipes, ain’t gonna be no more money come in.” He paused. “And I like money.”

There was a murmur of appreciation and Norm clamped him on the back. “So how did your meeting with Jemma go?”

C felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. “As in—”

“As in how did she take you were living at my place?”

He let out his breath. “Oh, that was a shock to her.”

The room chuckled and C chanced a look around. Where had all these ol’ boys come from? It looked like a used car salesmen convention with an insurance agent and two old farmers thrown in for good measure. He hastily ran through his mind what all he’d told Norm about his abrupt reappearance in Jinks. Had he mentioned that he was going to court Jemma? That statement itself could quite likely have fallen from his lips in a moment of derisive bragging. But after just now, after tasting her lips the way—almost the way—they were meant to be tasted, after feeling her arch to him, after knowing that she could desire him even if she didn’t want to admit it, he was a bit apprehensive about the whole situation. When was the last time he’d wanted to hold a woman so gently, keep his desires under a tight rein, discover slowly rather than hastily, not give in to sex? Well, hell, he couldn’t remember the last time!

He shook his head as if to clear it from the smoke that was part and parcel of the DamSite office. He needed to cool off and he needed to remember what he’d told Norm.

“Well, we were just waiting for you to get your scrawny bee-hind over here so we could spread the news to those that really count.” Wiley turned the speakerphone around and waved Norm and C over to the desk.

“Tib here says both Bertie and Lyla were at the Quik-Lee after lunch.” Norm was practically dancing with delight. “Let’s call our sisters-in-law. What say?”

Tib?
Where the hell
was
the lone ranger?
C looked around the office and found him lounging against the doorjamb into Wiley’s inner sanctum. He had a toothpick in the corner of his mouth, and he chewed on it as casually as a cow did her cud. There went Lyla as a good target.
Damn!
Might as well have T looking over his shoulder. C bristled under Tib’s gaze. Hell with it, he thought, Lyla deserves what she gets out of this conversation. Anyway, his conscience intervened, he didn’t have the lead on this ambush. It was a Norm Hudson-deal all the way.

“Sounds good to me. In fact, I’d think Lyla would be delighted to know I wouldn’t be in her hair this time.”

“Damn straight!” Norm nodded in Wiley’s direction. “Number please.”

“Delighted!” Wiley keyed in the phone number and the office grew quiet.

One ring. Two. Exactly who was running that business if it took this long to get a pick up on the phone? Finally, after the third ring, an out-of-breath Lyla. “Quik-Lee. May I help you?”

“Lyla?” Norm turned and leered at his audience. Like they all didn’t recognize Lyla’s voice.