Authors: Jill Winters
So what else was new? Sporadic male-bashing had become a staple in Corryn's conversations. Not that Billy minded, but she just wished that Kane hadn't made her sister so relentlessly cynical. They chatted for a few more minutes; then Billy said, "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow night at Mom and Dad's."
"Um..."
Uh-oh—she knew that tone of voice.
"Corryn, don't even
think
about punking out tomorrow." Her sister was guiltily silent on the other end. "If you think you're leaving me to fend off two weeks of Mom's pent-up nagging, you are very wrong."
"Fine," she relented. "I'll be there."
"Thank you," Billy said brightly. "Love you."
"Yeah, yeah. Love you, too."
After Billy settled back on the sofa with her freshly brewed coffee, Pike settled in beside her. The TV was on, but she wasn't paying much attention. Instead, images kept flashing through her mind, taking her back through her romantic history—back to her first time with her ex-boyfriend, Ryan. He'd worked in the sales department of Net Circle, and he was a cute, funny guy, even if he did have a bit of a Napoleon complex. They'd slept together on their six-month anniversary and he was very sweet about the whole thing.
Billy supposed that she'd gotten off to a late start with the opposite sex because she'd attended Catholic girls' schools until she was eighteen. When she'd entered college, guys had been everywhere, yet dating was aberrant. Hooking up for empty, drunk thrills was more the standard protocol, and that just wasn't her. Sure, she'd kissed a few guys back then, but she'd hoped for something more substantial—more meaningful.
Inevitably, because of her naïveté, she'd fallen hard for Seth Lannigan. He'd been her first real boyfriend, and she'd thrown herself so deeply and blindly into their relationship—for the short time it had lasted, anyway.
She sighed now, thinking how wonderful it would be to have a serious boyfriend—no waiting. Someone who was her best friend, soul mate, and everything else, all wrapped up in one. She would rest her cheek on his chest and listen to his heart, and he wouldn't have to get up early in the morning. Or if he did, he wouldn't care.
Despite Billy's minimal sexual experience—or maybe because of it—her dreams that night were fraught with dirty, carnal images. They flashed through her mind like bursts of fire; they licked flames up her body. One dream was particularly vivid in her mind: Seth tearing her blouse, spreading her legs, and thrusting roughly inside her. There was a fierce hunger to it that in no way represented Seth's gentle soul, but maybe it captured the raw sensuality Billy had always suspected was lurking beyond his kind heart.
She woke up sweaty, with her pajama pants sticking to her inner thighs as the dampness between her legs made her crotch feel soaked. Squeezing her legs tight, she twisted in her sheets and tried desperately to slip back into the dream. To finish what they'd started. To find out what it would be like to be with Seth—even if only in her mind.
Chapter 8
The following day Seth was hammering a new wooden railing to the back deck stairs, trying to pound away thoughts of work. An hour earlier he'd called Lucas to check on business, and after giving him a positive status update, Lucas had thrown in his usual offer to buy Seth out. It was a running joke between them—the kind that was dead serious at the same time—and until recently, Seth had never considered taking Lucas up on the offer. But over the past couple of months, the idea had gained appeal. What would it be like to sell the company and leave Seattle? To move back and start over?
What am I saying?
Seth thought as he flipped over his hammer to pull a nail out of the wood; he'd just banged it in crooked because he was paying no attention, and instead letting his imagination run off without his sense.
All this because he'd seen Billy? They'd shared a cup of coffee, for chrissake. For all he knew, she had a serious boyfriend already. For all he knew, she had no interest in him anymore. There was no way he was going to sell the business he'd spent the last three years building. And even if Billy
were
single and interested, surely she wouldn't like the idea of a long-distance relationship any more now than she did four years ago.
"Seth? Are you home?"
Startled, he looked up and saw Sally winding around the backyard with a basket in hand. Her face lit up when she saw him working on the deck, and she gently elbowed the tall young woman who was with her. "Hi," he said, smiling, and then abruptly realized he was bare-chested. With a hint of shyness, he reached for the T-shirt he'd pulled off about half an hour ago.
"I hope this is a good time," Sally said, coming closer.
"Sure, sure, of course," he said, hastily pulling his shirt on, then ruffling his hand carelessly through his hair.
"This is my niece, Pam," Sally said, climbing onto the deck with the picnic basket in one hand and Pam's arm in the other.
Of course, he should've guessed. Although, in fairness, he had agreed to the three of them getting together. Fine, as long as Sally didn't plan on going anywhere. "Hey, how're you doing?" he said amiably, and shook Pam's hand.
"Hi," she said, running some of her brown pageboy haircut behind her ears. As she restlessly shuffled her feet, the iridescent parachute suit she wore made swishing noises. She reminded him of an elementary school gym teacher—one who played for the WNBA in her spare time.
"We brought lunch," Sally explained. "We figured you were working hard back here, so we wanted to give you a nice break." She nudged Pam again. "Right, Pam?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, right," she said.
"Thanks, that's so nice," Seth said, taking the heavy basket for Sally and setting it down on the picnic table. "You didn't have to do that," he added, grinning, as he peeked inside the basket. "What's in here, anyway?"
"We brought lobster salad sandwiches and sweet potato crepes from Jacques's Bistro."
"That sounds great," he said. "Well, here, let me clear some room." After he shifted his scattered tools down to the other side of the thick oak picnic table, Pam and Seth sat down, while Sally spread out the plates, napkins, and food. Then she pulled out three small bottles of chilled Perrier and three straws.
"So, Pam, Sally mentioned that you're planning on moving," Seth said conversationally. As he peeled the foil off his sandwich, he tried to ignore Sally's beaming expression as she darted encouraging glances around the table. "Where do you live now?"
"I'm an EMT in Newton," she said flatly. "But I want to move to the West Coast in the next few months or so."
"Oh, what's out there?"
Shrugging indifferently, she bit off a big hunk of her sandwich and replied with her mouth full: "I don't know; I just want to see other places, like California."
"And Washington state, of course," Sally chimed in. Pam mumbled some form of agreement.
"By the way, Sally, how's everything coming together for the jubilee tomorrow night?" Seth asked.
"Fine, everything should go smoothly. And thanks again for going to Bella Donna for me the other day."
"No problem," he said casually, not revealing how much his visit to that bakery had affected him.
"Speaking of the jubilee," Sally said, "Pam's going to be there, too. Right, Pam?"
"Uh-huh."
"So, then, uh..." Sally began, smiling broadly, looking from Seth to Pam, Pam to Seth. "We'll all be there then. Tomorrow night. That's good; it'll give us a chance to get to know each other better. Of course, you both already know
me,
so..."
"Hey, Seth, where's the head?" Pam asked, rising from the table. At this angle his eyes had to travel absurdly far up to make contact with Pam's.
"Just inside," he said, motioning to the sliding glass doors. "Go through the kitchen, and turn left in the hallway."
When she was out of earshot, Sally leaned over and said, "Isn't she gorgeous?"
"Yeah, she's a cute kid," Seth replied benignly, deliberately making the point that he had no interest. But just in case he wasn't making it clear enough, he added, "Sally, you realize that I'm not looking to meet someone new, right?" Not exactly the truth, but it would suffice for the moment. "I hope you're not getting any ideas."
Sally's eyes shot wide open as she placed an elegant, manicured hand to her chest. "Me?" she said innocently.
"Ideas?"
Oh
,
no...
* * *
"My girls!"
"Hi, Mom," Billy said brightly, and met Adrienne for a tight hug in the open doorway.
Corryn trailed two paces back. "Hey, Mom," she said, entering their parents' house and shutting the door behind her. Adrienne hugged her next.
"Oh, this is wonderful, dinner with my girls—" She stopped midsentence, sniffed Corryn's shoulder, and grimaced. "You smell like smoke."
"Gee, I wonder how that happened," Corryn said sarcastically.
Adrienne brushed off the comment. "Anyway, I hope you girls are hungry. Billy, I hope you're not too full from the bakery."
"Mom, I
work
at the bakery, not test the merchandise." Unless you counted the plate of brownies Georgette had set in the back today—but then, Billy had only sampled four of those.
"What's that?" Adrienne said, motioning to the small white box in Billy's hand tied up with pink string. Incidentally, this wasn't going to do much to help demonstrate Billy's point.
"Coconut cupcakes," Billy replied, then held up her hand in her own defense. "Georgette was just going to throw them out, and I know you probably don't want to eat them, Mom, but I thought Corryn and Dad might like them."
Adrienne flashed her quintessential pursed look of disapproval and said, "Because I love my family, I can assure you those are going right in the garbage."
"Love me a little less, Mom—thanks," Corryn said, taking the box from Billy and shrugging out of her coat.
Then Adrienne spun around. "Nobody's said anything yet."
"About what?" Corryn asked.
"How I look." She spun again. "I've lost four pounds; didn't you notice?" Honestly, their mom was always so petite, it was hard to tell. "God, I just feel so healthy and alive!"
"That's great, Mom," Billy said.
"Thank you, honey.
Anyone
can do it, you know. With a little discipline, some exercise, a proper diet."
Billy shot her sister a knowing look before they headed into the dining room. As Adrienne carried in a covered dish from the kitchen, Corryn made raspberry crushes at the minibar next to the china cabinet.
"Hey, where's Dad?" Billy asked after her sister handed her a drink.
"He's out looking for a new fishing pole," Adrienne said. "He'll be back soon." She lifted the cover off of the serving dish and revealed a red, watery casserole that lurked underneath. "It's vegetable lasagna," she explained. "I found the recipe in a tofu cookbook."
Already off to an inauspicious start. But Billy made the best of the meal, forking through layers of thinly sliced tofu and wet, chunky vegetables.
"Too bad Dad missed dinner," Corryn remarked, pushing a hunk of parsnip around on her plate.
"No, he already ate," Adrienne said with a wave of her hand. "A sausage-and-pepper sub from that deli down the street." Hmm, suddenly a trip to the mob-front hoagie shop around the corner sounded pretty good. "He's being so difficult. He keeps refusing to eat a healthy diet—even though
anyone
can do it," she finished, looking straight at Billy.
When Billy got up to clear the dishes, Corryn said, "Let's break out the dessert."
Adrienne shook her head, lips twisted in disapproval. This from the woman who used to buy Entenmann's cookies and eat half the box at the blinking light on the way home. A little too excitedly, Corryn snatched a coconut cupcake from the box on the bar and announced that she was going outside for a smoke. After she left, Adrienne lamented to Billy about what the tar and saturated fat were doing to her sister's innards at that very moment.
Forty minutes later everyone was in the family room. Their dad was home, tinkering with his guilty pleasure, the ancient slide projector, while Billy slouched comfortably in a cream-colored recliner, Corryn lay on the sofa, and Adrienne sat in a green, high-backed chair that resembled a throne. While they waited for the cruise slide show to begin, Adrienne moved in for the kill. "So what's new with Mark?"
"Nothing. I saw him last night," Billy said.
"Mark," Billy's dad echoed. "Mark... Do I know him?"
Adrienne rolled her eyes. "Get with it, David. Billy's been dating him for over a month now."
David just shrugged. "Doesn't sound familiar."
"Have you found out what he makes yet?"
"No, and I don't plan to," Billy said, thoroughly bored by the question.
"Nobody ever tells me anything," Adrienne said huffily. "At least tell me you called Gladys Belding's son, Kip."
"Um..."
"Belinda. If you don't call him, I'll be humiliated. I
promised
Gladys you'd call."
And you did that because...?
"Slide show's all set up," David said. "Anytime you're ready, Addy."
The first twenty slides were pictures of David boarding the boat, walking to the cabin, opening the cabin door, and unzipping his suitcase. Obviously Adrienne had been holding the camera. Next she showed slides of all the people she'd met on the cruise, even if only for a minute, and narrated their myriad ailments and dysfunctions.
"See the one with the chubby knees and loud vacation prints?" she said. "That's Louise Moonie. A sweet woman, but no tolerance for dairy. We played pinochle together on day three." She clicked to the next slide. "Oh, now
that's
Maeve Byrnes. She has a son who sounds
very
interesting—Corryn, are you paying attention?"
When her sister didn't answer, Billy glanced over and noticed that Corryn's eyes were closed, and her mouth was curved softly and sleepily against the throw pillow.
"Corryn?" Adrienne said again, and Billy discreetly shook her sister's foot.