Gimme an O! (16 page)

His heart lurching into his throat, Anthony snapped his gaze back to the road before him. He saw the flash of an object and yanked the steering wheel to the left. The Navigator screamed as it careened onto the shoulder, spitting up dry earth and rocks.

He eased his foot off the brake to steer the vehicle back into the lane. Only when he was fully back on the asphalt did he allow himself to breathe.

Then he glanced at Lecia.

She withered under his gaze.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, unable to keep his voice calm.

“I’m sorry. I—I didn’t want you to hit it.”

“I thought I was about to run smack into someone’s bumper. But no, you scream your head off for a freakin’ armadillo?”

“I…” Words were inadequate. “I saw it. I got scared. I’m sorry.”

Anthony blew out a ragged breath. If he was feeling anything like she was, Lecia knew that his heart was beating out of control.

“Leave the driving to me,” he said after a long moment.
“You can’t swerve all over the road trying to avoid critters. It’s liable to get you killed.”

Chagrined, Lecia shook her head. “I said I’m sorry.”

They drove in silence for a while. Lecia stared at Anthony. His jaw was set in a hard line. He was angry. She couldn’t fault him, but she wanted him to understand.

“I was twenty-one. Out for the night celebrating my birthday, actually.”

Anthony glanced at her, the flash of anger in his eyes replaced by curiosity.

“I was nearly home. Rounding a corner. I didn’t even see it until it was too late. Then there was a thud. And this awful scream.”

“What’d you hit?”

“A dog. A cocker spaniel. I raced out of my car, but it was too late. It was dead.”

When Lecia’s voice trembled, Anthony’s insides tightened. “Ah, geez. Shit, don’t cry.”

“I’m okay.” She blew out a few quick breaths. “It’s just that…well, ever since I killed that dog, I have a horrible paranoia about hitting any animal.”

Anthony reached for her hand. He squeezed it. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And I shouldn’t have yelled.”

She gave him a soft smile of appreciation. It occurred to him that a person could appear bright, sophisticated, and totally together, yet still be affected by something that had happened in his or her past.

She pulled her purse onto her lap. “I’m okay,” she said as she withdrew her inhaler. “My chest is just starting to feel a little tight. Emotions can sometimes trigger an attack.” Moments later she was puffing on her inhaler.

Anthony watched her. He realized she was holding her breath. She released a gush of air.

“How often do you take that?” he asked.

“Usually once a day. Sometimes more, if the weather’s really bad. If it’s too hot out to breathe properly.”

“So me taking you to the desert hasn’t helped matters.”

“The L.A. smog doesn’t help. But I take a puff and life goes on.” Lecia stuffed her inhaler back in her purse. She placed it at the floor by her feet and picked up one of the plain white plastic bags. “You want chips? A Twinkie?”

“You bought some cola, right? I could use the caffeine.”

Lecia withdrew a soda and passed it to him. She opened a water for herself, then pulled out one of the packages of Twinkies. Her eyes fluttered shut as she took a bite.

“You’ve got a thing for Twinkies, huh?”

Lecia’s eyes widened in horror as she swallowed, and Anthony realized immediately what she must be thinking. That he was alluding to the Twinkies’ phallic shape.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she told him.

“
Me?
You’re the one with your mind in the gutter. That’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear,” he said. Although now, thanks to her, his thoughts had quickly turned primal. What was Dr. Love like in bed? he wondered. To look at her, she appeared conservative. Even uptight, sometimes. But did she completely let loose in the bedroom and get her freak on? After all, she
was
a sex therapist.

So was Dr. Ruth, and Anthony couldn’t picture her getting laid.

But Lecia…He watched her lick cream from the Twinkie and damn if his groin didn’t start to tighten.

You’d think he hadn’t had sex in a year, rather than a month.

He needed a distraction. He needed to talk about Ginger. “So, Doc. What you said to me on the
Tonight Show,
was that true? Did Ginger call me a pervert?”

Lecia took a long swig of her water. Long enough that Anthony had to wonder if she wanted to answer the question. But she finally said, “Maybe we should just find Ginger first.”

“Why? What does that mean?”

“It means…to say the least, the two of you have a lot of talking to do.”

“But what’s your take on this? Because I was thinking, maybe she had some kind of breakdown. I don’t know. The pressure of everything got to her and she just couldn’t take it.”

“That doesn’t explain the lies about her family.”

Lecia’s words gave Anthony pause. “You don’t know that she was lying.”

She held up both hands in a sign of surrender. “You’re right. Forget I said that.”

Anthony did just that, staring ahead at the road. He could see the orange sun along the horizon in his rearview mirror.
Think about the sunset,
he told himself.
Think about how great it looks from Beverly Hills.

He turned, forgetting the sunset and instead concentrating on Lecia. “No, I don’t want to forget it. You don’t think Ginger had a breakdown?”

“I think her behavior is very suspicious.”

“What did she say about me?”

“We didn’t speak for long. Only a few minutes.”

“Come on. Just tell me.”

Lecia sighed, resigning herself to the fate of answering Anthony’s question. “Since you must know, she didn’t speak too kindly about you. At first, I thought it was because she was hurt by what you’d done.”

“What the media said I did.”

“Right.”

“And then?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it since.” Since she had met Anthony and found him entirely credible. There was a clean, down-home quality to him, and it made it impossible for her to imagine him propositioning a hooker. “I really wonder why a woman who’s supposed to love you wouldn’t even hear you out. And then, of course, you’re saying that she’s smearing you in the media.”

“That’s why I’m wondering if she’s having some kind of meltdown.”

What Lecia thought was that Ginger was a lot smarter than Anthony was giving her credit for being. She was a woman with an agenda, and she was working her butt off to get what she wanted. Maybe she saw his supposed infidelity as an easy way out of the marriage and she was hoping to take it, along with a ton of cash. Maybe she had met someone else. Or maybe she was just as flaky as many of the other people in Hollywood, and her marriage vows hadn’t meant anything to her.

Regardless, the way Ginger had described her husband to Lecia in those minutes outside the bar still didn’t sit well with her, now that she knew Anthony to be so very different.

“What are you thinking, Doc?”

She knew he didn’t want to know what she was really thinking. “I’m thinking that you and Ginger will need some serious counseling, should she decide she wants to save the marriage.”

“
Should
she decide? I’m counting on you to make her see the light.”

“I’ll do what I can,” she said, “but I can’t work miracles.”

“I hope to God she’s at this address in New Orleans. We really need to damn well talk. For better, for worse. That’s what
she promised, and that’s what I expect. I’d never turn my back on her without hearing her out.”

Sighing deeply, Lecia leaned back in her seat. Turning her gaze to the desert landscape, she tuned Anthony out. She wasn’t interested in hearing him go on and on about his precious wife.

They were an oddball couple if she ever saw one. Ginger came off as an airhead who was full of herself. There was nothing real about her, not her long fingernails or her huge fake breasts. But Anthony…despite his obvious star status and his wealth, he didn’t come across as pompous or fake at all. He could have any woman he wanted, yet he was driving halfway across the country in hopes of saving a marriage that appeared one-sided.

But who was she to judge why certain people got together? Maybe Ginger offered Anthony intellectual stimulation that he couldn’t live without.

Yeah, right. The woman doesn’t even like to read
.

“You sleeping?”

Anthony’s deep voice startled her, like a splash of cold water in the face. A splash that reminded her it was her job to remain objective, never to judge. “No, I’m not sleeping.”

“Then can I ask you a question?”

“Fire away.”

“It’s about you.”

“Oh.” Lecia considered that as she opened her bottle of water. “Okay.”

“I’m kinda curious. You said you’re not dating.”

“Right.” Lecia brought the water bottle to her mouth.

“So tell me, Dr. Love—how is it that you’ve written this successful book about women’s orgasms, yet you’re not getting laid?”

The sip she’d taken went down the wrong way and Lecia started coughing. Loud, hacking coughs.

Anthony slapped her back. Once. Twice. Still she kept coughing.

“Shit,” he muttered.

As Lecia felt the car slowing, she did her best to regain control. Swallowing two giant breaths, she felt the crisis passing. “I’m all right,” she told him. Lord, but this was embarrassing! “You don’t have to stop.”

Anthony’s eyes flitted between the road and her. She saw genuine concern in his expression. “You’re sure?” he asked.

Lecia tapped on her chest as she inhaled another deep breath. “Yes, I’m sure. I just feel…stupid.” She didn’t know why, but the man had her on edge, acting like a klutz.

Anthony didn’t say anything, just continued to drive, and Lecia was hugely relieved. Apparently he had forgotten the question he’d asked her. Which was a good thing, since she didn’t want to discuss her sex life with him.

But moments later he glanced at her and said, “So?”

Oh, no.
“So what?” Lecia asked, playing dumb.

“You’ve written this book about sex and orgasms. You’re doing interviews all over the place, spreading your vast knowledge with the world. Yet when you head home, you hang with your cat?”

“Oh, God. The cat!” In the frenzy of everything that was going on, she had forgotten all about Moaner. She quickly dug her cell phone out of her purse.

“I was kidding about the cat.”

“You might have been kidding, but she exists.”

“You’ve got a cat?”

“Well, kind of. No, I do. Yeah, I do.”

“I guess if football falls through, I can always get a job working for the Psychic Network.”

“She’s a stray. Came up to my door one day and I fed her. Now, she keeps coming back. I haven’t let her in the house, though.”

“Yet.”

Lecia’s lips curled in a smile as she thought of the orange tabby. “Yeah, yet.” Her face grew serious. “I don’t want her to get attached to me. Maybe her owners are simply out of town.”

“Sounds like she’s already attached. And you, too.”

“Someone’s got to take care of the poor thing.”

Lecia turned away from him and entered a number on her cell phone. Anthony watched her, wondering whom she was calling.

“Hey, Sheldon,” she said.

Sheldon?

“It’s me, Lecia…Yeah, I’m cool. You?…Great. My sister there?” She paused several seconds. “Oh, that was today? All right, can you do me a favor? Please tell her to head to my place and pour some food in the bowl outside for Moaner…
Yeah, she knows where it is. In fact, if you can ask her to head back in the morning to do it again…Well, I’m…” She paused to glance at Anthony. “It’s work-related. Came up suddenly…Yeah, I know. Thanks, Sheldon. I owe you big-time.”

The moment she hung up, Anthony said, “You named the cat Moaner?”

“Uh-huh.”

“A sex therapist with a cat named Moaner. If that doesn’t take the cake.”

“Well, that’s how she got my attention. By moaning all the time. I’d be sleeping, and I’d hear this cat outside my window.”

Anthony found himself wondering if Lecia was a moaner or a screamer. Or the type to leave scars on a guy’s back when he was doing her. Beneath that prim and proper image, was she wild and untamed?

Ginger was wild. More than wild. Like a nympho, really, the way she was always horny for sex. It was strange, and most guys wouldn’t give it a second thought if their wives screwed like porn stars, but Anthony had never felt connected to Ginger during sex. He always had the feeling that any guy would do with her, that there was nothing special about him.

The lack of a true connection between them was one of the signs early on that made him wonder how well their marriage would fare. But then he’d reminded himself that he hadn’t married Ginger for passion. He had married her because he’d wanted a friend and
not
passion, a woman who would stick by him as they built a solid future together.

Thinking about Ginger was giving him a headache. He turned to Lecia. “So, tell me. Why are you a celibate sex therapist?”

“Because men can’t be trusted.”

“Ouch.” He reached for his soda and took a swig. “You really believe that?”

“I know it.”

“I know there’s a story behind that comment. Who was he?”

“My ex-husband,” Lecia answered easily.

“He cheated on you.”

“Several times.”

“Ouch.”

“Oh, it hurt. But I’m over it.”

“If that’s true, why aren’t you dating?”

“How can I date?” Lecia answered quickly. “I’m much too busy with work.”

Anthony cut his eyes at her. “The truth.”

“That is the truth.”

“Come on, Doc. You psychoanalyze people. I know you can do better than that.”

“All right.” Lecia slapped her hands against her thighs. “The truth is…I’ve lost my mojo.”

“No shit.”

“Not that you have to tell anyone. I’m sure the media would have a field day with that bit of info.”

“Who would I tell? The
Daily Blab
?”

“Things you don’t want people to know have a way of leaking once you’re in the limelight. And I’d really like to keep my private life private.”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir. But all the same, don’t you miss not having a man in your life?”

“Not really.”

“Because you’ve lost your mojo?”

“Exactly. I know most people don’t understand. My sister certainly doesn’t.”

“Why—how long’s it been?”

“Oh, very long.”

“Like what? Three months?”

Lecia threw her head back and roared with laughter.

“Longer?” Anthony asked. “Six months?”

“Try three years.”

“Three years?”

“I haven’t keeled over yet.”

“Wow.” Anthony shook his head slowly, as if pitying her. “There are plenty of guys out there who will help you get your mojo back.”

“Oh, I’ve met them, believe me. At book signings and other events. The losers who think that because I wrote a book about women’s sexuality I’m a slut.”

“I can’t see anyone thinking you’re a slut.”

“No, but you can see uptight bitch, can’t you?”

Anthony frowned as he looked across the front seat at her. “Is that what you think I see when I look at you?”

“Don’t you?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I see beautiful. Smart. Witty. Sexy.”

Lecia’s face flamed. Surprisingly, it was difficult to hear Anthony compliment her in this way. Because while she would never tell him, he was the first man in a long time that she had started to feel any stirrings of attraction for.

It was clearly the circumstance, she thought—being alone together, their body scents mingling in the confined space of his car. Logically, she knew that, which was why she was doing her damnedest to push these ridiculous feelings out of her head.

“Maybe I can hook you up with Kahari.”

Lecia felt a stab of disappointment at Anthony’s suggestion. Kahari was attractive. Available. Rich beyond her wildest imagination. But he wasn’t Anthony.

She said, “I’m so not into dating right now.”

“Ah, I get it. This is the twenty-first century. A woman can please herself.”

“Argh!” Lecia punched his arm. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

“Why not? You’re Dr. Love.”

“Oh, stop that Dr. Love business. I’m Lecia. A woman with feelings, a woman with—”

“Needs.”

She lowered her eyes, then slowly raised them to meet his again. “Maybe.”

Her voice was so soft, yet it hit Anthony like a ton of bricks. And like the flick of a switch, something changed between them. Maybe it was the honesty that had shimmered in her voice, but Anthony felt the strongest urge to reach out to her. He wanted to stroke her face, run his fingers along the column of her neck. He wanted to flick his tongue along her skin and see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He wanted to help her get her mojo back.

“I think I’m tired of talking,” Lecia said. “I’m gonna close my eyes, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Anthony replied, his throat suddenly dry. “You do that.”

Lecia opened her eyes when she realized the Navigator had stopped. Looking to the left, she saw that she was alone.

She sat up straight and peered through the windshield. In front of her was a small road in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere, based on the fact that there was zero traffic.
Unbuckling her seat belt, she turned to look through the back window. The dark tint obstructed her view, but she could see some sort of flashing light and make out the shape of a building.

They were at a hotel, she realized. No, given its small size, it had to be a motel.

Lecia opened her door and got out. She gave her body a good stretch, yawning as she did. The night air was warm and smelled faintly of jasmine.

With its neat and tidy outside appearance, the place certainly couldn’t be called a Roach Motel. In orange neon lights, it boasted a name Lecia had never heard of. It was probably a family-run operation, and hopefully as well maintained on the inside as it was on the outside.

As she slowly made her way toward the front door, Anthony exited the office. She met him en route to her.

“It’s small, clean,” he said. “And they didn’t care about a credit card once I offered them cash.”

“Where are we?” Lecia asked.

“Just east of El Paso.”

They had stopped for burgers around ten
P.M
., before reaching the Texas border. Once they started driving again, Lecia had drifted off to sleep.

“What time is it?”

“About one-fifteen.”

“One-fifteen!”

“Because of the time zone difference.”

“That’s right.” She yawned again.

“You have everything you need out of the car?” he asked.

“My purse is still in there.”

“Give me a second.”

Anthony trotted back toward the Navigator, and Lecia was
tempted to follow him. She didn’t want to be standing out there alone. Not that she had anything to worry about, she realized. It was very quiet here. Peaceful.

Lecia yawned again as Anthony reached her. “I know, it’s late,” he said, placing a hand on her back.

They were quiet as he guided her to the first floor room. Only when Anthony opened the door did Lecia realize he hadn’t offered her her own key.

“We’re…sharing a room?”

“I figured it was easier this way. Besides, it’s only for a few hours.”

Her heart thumped hard in her chest.

“Lecia?”

Anthony’s voice prompted her to step into the room. Well, if he didn’t have a problem sharing the room, why should she? They were both adults. They both knew the deal. They were here together to get some sleep.

Lecia glanced around. She was expecting the worst, but aside from being small, the room was very clean. Even the burgundy-colored carpet was nice and thick and appeared to be brand new.

There were two double beds, which could be a problem for Anthony, given that he was tall. But they weren’t moving in. He could survive.

“You go ahead and use the bathroom first,” Anthony told her.

Now, alarm bells sounded in Lecia’s head. She had the clothes on her back, a camisole and blazer in the car, and nothing else. No fresh clothes. No clean underwear.

“Oh, gosh. I don’t have anything. No toiletries. No nothing.”

Anthony lifted his shirt and pulled out two little packages
from the waist of his jeans. “I picked these up at the front desk. Toothbrushes and toothpaste.”

“But what about clean clothes? I can’t wear these again tomorrow.”

“We’ll worry about that in the morning.”

“Right,” Lecia said softly. But she wondered how Anthony could be so nonchalant about everything. As far as she knew, he didn’t have a change of clothes, either. And what on earth was she supposed to sleep in? The nude?

“Lecia?” he prompted.

“Right, right,” she said. “The bathroom. I’m going.” Exhaling a sigh, she headed in that direction.