Kiss of Fire (St. James Family) (31 page)

Vivica was still on the roof when Toni returned, but she climbed down the rickety ladder leaning against the side of the house as Toni parked the car. She hopped down, her big boots making a loud stomping noise in the dust. She wore a baseball cap, her hair in braids over her shoulders. Toni slammed the car door behind her, fanning herself.

“I do not miss this awful heat, that is for sure,” Toni said. “How do you spend time on that roof? It has to be hot as balls up there.”

“
I don't mind,” Vivica said, shrugging.

“
What do you know about roofing anyway?”

“
Nothing. I googled it and went to Home Depot,” Vivica said. “It's kind of fun, actually.” Toni couldn't help it, she dissolved in giggles.

“
You are so weird,” Toni got out, swiping her hand across her moist forehead. Vivica shrugged again, and glanced up at the roof.

“
I'll probably call someone in soon, to finish the job. I've just been fucking around up there anyway, trying to patch the smaller holes...” Vivica trailed off, plopping her hands on her hips. Then she turned back to Toni. “How was your meeting?” she asked.

“
It was blah,” Toni said, swinging the car keys. “But I got a really crazy idea...!”

“
Oh shit. I'm scared now,” Vivica said.

“
It's not exactly as hardcore as taking up roofing, girl, but it might be fun,” Toni smiled, practically jumping up and down. “Let's go get tattoos!” Vivica gave her an unconvinced look.

“
Fuck no.”

“
Come on! It'll be fun. We'll get them somewhere small and hidden, where no one will see them.”

“
I can't have tattoos,” Vivica said, shoving up the sleeves of the old plaid shirt she wore.

“
But you're not modeling anymore. So you
can
have tattoos. You could have all the tattoos you want, right?” Toni said, wagging her eyebrows. Vivica broke down and laughed, shaking her head.

“
I guess...” Vivica wavered, pursing her lips like she was thinking about it.

“
So we're just going to go do it. We're not going to think about it, we're just going to go for it, right?”

“
Alright, alright. I'm in,” Vivica caved in, not able to resist Toni's enthusiasm, which was what Toni was counting on.

“
Yes!” Toni threw her arms around her cousin. “I need this, you know? For some reason, I do.”

“
Alright, alright,” Vivica said, hugging Toni back, hard. “Geez. Just something small.”

“
Small, but important,” Toni said, believing it with all of her heart.

Chapter 19

O'Donovan drove his rental car up the long gravel driveway, not sure at all that he was in the right place. A two-story farmhouse stood at the end of the drive, surrounded by tall willow trees. A rusted out orange pickup was parked beside the side of the house, next to a barn that looked like a stiff wind would knock it on its ass. He felt like banjo music was going to start playing at any minute. He pulled to a stop, a cloud of dust hazing around the windows. He saw a figure on the roof, standing and shielding their eyes from the sun with their hand.

He opened the car door and stepped out, taking a look around. A wall of humid heat hit him and he let out a slow breath, his body protesting. New York could get nasty during the summer, but it was nothing like the Louisiana humidity, that was for sure. He'd taken a few days off and flown in to New Orleans that morning. Christophe had given him the address for Toni's grandmother's house after a few hours of drinking and shooting the shit. It was strange. Christophe Van der Kind was actually not bad, he was realizing, despite his billion dollar bank account. Maybe it was wrong of him to judge him solely on his net worth, O'Donovan thought with a chuckle, but he was willing to admit if he was wrong. He could eat a lot of crow if necessary, and Toni was about to find that out firsthand.

The figure from the roof was climbing down an old wooden ladder and O'Donovan strolled toward him, ready to ask about Toni. He realized it was a young woman when she got closer to him, the sway of her hips not hidden by the baggy clothes she wore. She had long braids hanging over her shoulders, and her brown face was smudged with dirt. She had almond shaped eyes, so dark that they could have been black. He wouldn't call her beautiful, per se, but she was definitely... interesting looking. She wiped her hands on her overalls, looking at him suspiciously.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“
I'm looking for Toni St. James,” he said, squinting in the late afternoon sun.

“
Why?”

“
Do you know her?”

“
Maybe,” she shrugged, lifting a thin eyebrow and he sensed that she was a dangerous girl. The kind of girl who ate weaker men for breakfast gladly and didn't bat an eyelash. Definitely a St. James. He'd come to the right place.

“
Where is she?” he said, not in the mood to fuck around with the baby man-killer.

“
Who are you?” she narrowed her eyes. “What do you want with Toni?”

“
Christ,” O'Donovan hissed, scanning the property, looking for any sign of her. His heart stopped in his chest when he saw her, a few hundred yards away, stomping through the field. She wore a yellow tank top, tiny cut-off shorts, a straw hat, and knee-high rubber boots covered in mud. The sight of her took his breath away. She looked like a country girl, through and through, nothing like the sophisticated city girl he'd grown to love. She stopped short when she saw him.

“
Toni!” the girl yelled to her. “Do you know who this is?!”

“
Yes. I am familiar with that particular asshole!” Toni yelled back, taking her sweet time making her way through the tall grass toward them.

“
Hello to you, too, lovely,” he muttered under his breath, but he couldn't stop a smile from spreading over his face as she finally reached them.

“
It's okay, Viv,” she said, and the baby man-killer sauntered off, glancing back at them over her shoulder. “What the hell are you doing here?” she said, her voice flat and her eyes cold when she spoke to him.

“
What do you think?” he moved close to her, but she took a step back, putting more space between them.

“
I don't know. Decided to take a mid-week vacation, I guess?” she said, not looking him in the eye.

“
I took some of my personal days,” he said, taking a step forward, not letting her have the space she wanted.

“
Where's your girlfriend?” she asked.

“
We're through.”

“
What?” her eyes darted up to meet his.

“
She dumped me.”

“
So you come all the way to New Orleans because your girlfriend dumped you?” He heard a small tremor in her voice and he had the urge to kiss her hard until she moaned.

“
I came all the way to New Orleans for you.”

“
For me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“
Yeah, for you, lovely,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her hips, pulling him close to him. Fuck, she smelled so good—like a mix of sunshine and wildflowers. She kept her hands at her sides, not touching him.

“
So you get dumped and you come running to find me,” she said, her voice still annoyingly flat. “You shouldn't have bothered.”

“
It's not like that,” he said.

“
Sure seems like that,” she said.

“
Brigid and I busted up, but it was because of you. It's always all about you.”

“
I don't care,” she said, staring at a spot in the center of his chest. He shook her lightly, wanting her to look at him. If she would just look at him, she would see what he was trying to say. She would see the love written all over his face.

“
It was because I never stopped wanting you. I thought I could, but I couldn't.”

“
I'm not going to be your backup chick.” She put her hands over his on her hips. “Now get back in your car and get the hell out of here.”

“
Fuck, Toni—”

“
No,” She finally lifted her honeyed eyes to look at him, and he saw the anger swirling in their depths. “You're afraid of being alone. You should have just picked someone up in New York, because you wasted your time coming after me. I'm done playing this game.” He flexed his fingers, gripping her harder, pulling her closer. She had it all wrong, but he was ready to convince her. He was ready to do whatever it took. “Please take your hands off me,” she said, and he could hear the Southern twang that signaled her was getting under her skin. He took a deep breath, the heat of the day no match for the fire that was raging between them.

He cocked his head, his brain working overdrive, trying to figure out what he could do. She was pissed now, but if she had awhile to think about it, she'd come around. Blind optimism was the only thing he had to hold onto. The unwieldy, out of control passion that that they shared couldn't be ignored. He knew that from experience; he'd tried and failed. And now it was time to pay for his transgression. She was going to make him pay, that was for sure. He got that, he understood it, he really did, but he was impatient. They'd already wasted two months. He didn't want to waste any more time.

He let his hands drop from her hips and she swayed a bit, like she wasn't prepared for him to let her go, even though she'd asked him to. He took a few steps back, giving her room to think. She bit her lip, a sheen of perspiration on her chest. He shook off the urge to lick the sweat off of her before turning and jogging back to the car, an idea coming to him. He leaned into open window of the car, scribbling a quick note on the back of a receipt.

She hadn't moved from the spot where he'd left her, and he took that as a good sign. He held out the scrap of paper, folded in half. “This is my hotel. Come by later.”

“No,” she said, but her eyes were on the paper. He closed the gap between them, dropping his head to her ear as he slipped the note into her jean pocket.

“
I'll be waiting,” he whispered. “Impatiently.” Then he forced himself to turn and leave her there, his control hanging by a thread. He wanted to pick her up and carry her into the house and bend her over the nearest flat surface, kissing her like a madman until she loved him again. But it had to be her decision. He was the one who'd fucked up, so it was up to her now, as much as that drove him crazy. He opened the car door, his whole body tight and aching, protesting leaving her. He glanced up, allowing himself one more glimpse of her face, beautiful as ever in the hazy sunlight. “Say hello to your grandmother for me,” he said, then slid into the car.

He gripped the steering wheel as he pulled the car around in a wide circle, past where she still stood, and continued down the driveway. Leaving her felt so goddamn wrong, but he had to. He stepped on the gas, speeding down the country road, the air from the open window whipping him in the face. “Please Toni,” he murmured over and over, under his breath, like a prayer. “Please come back to me.”

***

Toni wanted to kill him. She wanted to go find her grandfather's rusty old shotgun in the barn and finish him off right then and there in the driveway. But she could only stand there, her muscles clenched so tight that walking away or forming words was impossible. The paper he'd tucked into her pocket burned like a brand, screaming for her attention. He was something else, she thought angrily. How dare he? He got dumped, so he came running back to her? It was infuriating. But she couldn't help the niggling feeling pushing up around and over the anger that had her in its grasp. Love. She was still in love with him.

Dammit.

Getting a tattoo the night before had been like a rebirth. She was officially a new person. A person who took care of herself and made decisions on her own. A strong person who was moving on from being a heartbroken dummy, crying late into the night over a man who didn't want her. Right? Stomping to the porch, she ignored Vivica, who was watching her from the doorway.

“I don't want to talk about it,” Toni said, as she pushed past her and ran upstairs. She needed a shower, she decided, to wash O'Donovan right out of her hair. As she threw her clothes off, she purposefully kicked her shorts across the room. She didn't want to look at the stupid paper he'd slipped in her pocket. She didn't want to know where he was staying. She didn't want to think about why he'd come all the way to Louisiana when he could have just as easily stayed in New York. She didn't care. She was a different Toni now, a Toni who wasn't a sap for Sebastian O'Donovan.

She stood under the lukewarm water, fuming, her body twitching when she thought about how his breath had tickled her ear as he whispered to her.
“I'll be waiting,”
he'd said, and the words had shimmered down her spine, like a soft caress. She'd finally stopped waiting for him, and now he had the nerve to show back up and get her all riled up. It just wasn't fair. Not fair at all.

After her unsatisfying shower, she had nothing to do, and the day passed, slow as molasses, the minutes ticking by like hours. Toni knew time moved slower in the South, but this was ridiculous. She wandered from room to room in the house until her grandmother gave her the look of death from the kitchen.

“Stop pacing around back and forth, you're making me nervous!” Granny yelled, eyes returning to
General Hospital
while she peeled potatoes. Toni wandered into the kitchen and leaned on the old butcher block countertop next to her grandmother. “Help me, would you? I don't know where Vivvy's gone off to, and my arthritis is kicking up,” Granny said, handing her a potato and a paring knife.

“
Don't you have a vegetable peeler?”

“
Why?” Granny asked, raising a penciled in eyebrow. “Knife works just fine.”

“
Never mind.” Toni murmured, attempting to mimic her grandmother's smooth technique for peeling potatoes. They sat, not talking, for awhile, watching the drama unfold in Port Charles. Toni never watched soaps anymore, but they reminded her of her childhood. Both Marietta and Granny followed them and many a day after school was spent doing homework at the table while the stories played in the background.

“
Granny?” Toni said. “Did you ever make a man fall in love with you with a pie?”

“
Your grandfather,” Granny said, eyes still glued to the little kitchen TV.

“
What kind of pie was it?”

“
Mmmm, apple,” Granny murmured. “No. No that's not right. It was a lemon merengue,” she said, chuckling to herself.

“
Did you make it just for him?” Toni said, her potato looking considerably more pock-marked than the ones her grandmother had done.

“
No,” Granny shook her head. “That was back when I was running a little shop out of my kitchen. My mother, your great-grandmother, had just taken ill with the cancer and I had to take care of Charlie, my little brother. So I was running a pie stand, and the neighbors would come around every week. There was a widow, a white man, Mr. Farmer, who'd come around with the roaming eye, you know, but he always bought whatever I hadn't sold all day. Usually blackberry or the strawberry rhubarb. Occasionally a mincemeat. Anyway, one hot day your grandfather came strolling down the lane, took one look at my sky-high merengue, and said 'that's the woman I'm going to marry'. And he did, too.” Granny dissolved into a body shaking laugh, shaking her head at the memory. “He was a man of his word.”

Toni smiled, trying to imagine her grandmother and grandfather as young lovers.  She stabbed at the potato, her mind turning to O'Donovan, of course. He'd come strolling down her lane, so to speak, but she'd turned him away. It had been the right thing to do. Maybe. She couldn't be sure. Her love for him was making it hard for her to be rational about the situation.

“You trying to kill that potato?” Granny asked, her eyes still on the TV. “I think you succeeded.” Toni stuck her tongue out at her grandmother's back, tossing the poor potato into the big pot with the others. “Men these days ain't so different as men were in the past, you know,” Granny said softly. “They just want to feel like you need them. My way was always to show my love with food, but there's other ways.”

“
You're just saying that because I can't cook,” Toni said.

“
You said it, not me.”

“
But what about us? Men want to be needed, so we show them we need them. But what do we get out of it? Nothing more than a bucketful of tears and a broken heart.” Toni grabbed another potato and started peeling.

“
You're too young to be so bitter. Take it from an old lady who's seen a lot of shit,” Granny said, finally turning to look at Toni. “Are we talking about your white boy, who just drove up to my house this afternoon and didn't bother to come in and say hello?”

“
He said to tell you hello,” Toni mumbled, eyes on the potato.

“
Well, he's chasing you, that's a good sign. But don't make him wait too long, baby, not if he's got you all hot and bothered. Men hate to wait.”

“
He can wait forever as far as I'm concerned.”

“
Okay, baby,” Granny said, turning back to the TV. “But those potatoes can't wait. Hurry up or we're not going to eat 'til midnight.” She chuckled to herself and as Toni stared down at the sad looking potato in her hand, she couldn't help but laugh as well.

***

A small knock sounded at the door and O'Donovan was across the room in half a second, throwing it open. He'd been going out of his skin waiting for her. But as he saw her standing there, on the threshold of his hotel room, he felt the tension rush out of his body in a whoosh. She was here, and that was all the was important. Toni looked effortlessly beautiful, like she'd gotten dressed just for him, her hair pinned up, in a silky camisole and tight jeans. She jammed her hands in her back pockets, like she didn't want to tempt herself to touch him.

“
Lovely,” he heard himself growl. She had about two seconds before he grabbed her and tossed her onto the bed and had his way with her. Two seconds to deny him. That was all she got.

“
Can I come in?” she asked, and that was just as good as an invitation in his opinion. He slid a hand around her waist and pulled her close, slamming the door behind her.

“
Goddammit, I missed you.” He ran his face down her neck, just like he knew she wanted it, biting down lightly on her collarbone. She shivered against him, but then planted her palms firmly on his chest and pushed. He let her pull away, although he wanted to hold her forever.

“
I want you to go away,” she said in that flat tone that she'd used earlier. “I don't know why you're here, but—”