The Naughty Corner (33 page)

“You wanna go with us?”

Lola stared a moment. The little scar by his eye gave him a crafty look. He was up to something. Then Lola realized that she always assumed Harry was up to something. Sometimes he was; he’d certainly proven that. But maybe kids lived up to
your
expectations. And she was
supposed
to be giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“You don’t want some old lady at the pool with you,” she told him. “It would cramp your style.”

“You’re not some old lady, Aunt Lola.” His gaze on her was unwavering.

Lola swiveled in her chair to fully face him. She considered her next words and decided they needed asking. “Why did you scheme with the coach’s son last night?”

“Scheme?” He raised a brow. The scar almost made it look like he was winking.

“Rafe texted you. Then you and William wanted to go out. All evening.”

He stubbed the toe of his rubber deck shoe into the carpet. “We just wanted to help you. After the stunt we pulled. It was only fair. And we like the coach.”

“You said he was a slave driver.”

“He is. Doesn’t mean we don’t like him.”

Last night had been more than she’d ever hoped for in the last ten years. The coach was more man than she could ever have dreamed up. “So going out was a gift, giving me time with the coach?”

“It was kind of like when Dad brings Mom chocolates after they’ve had a fight. Except that she throws them away when he’s not looking because she doesn’t want to get fat.”

“I don’t think I’m going to throw away the coach.” But she almost had.

“So do you want to go to the pool?” He actually seemed eager.

Since the day they’d arrived, she’d been figuring out ways to get rid of them. Maybe, just maybe, you reap what you sow, to use another of her mother’s old expressions. When she ignored them, they got bored. When she didn’t like them, they didn’t like her. Charlotte didn’t have the same problem with the twins. They’d had a great time eating pizza and watching
Kick-Ass
. Maybe Lola was simply reaping her own feelings about them. She mistrusted them, so they’d proved untrustworthy. Not that it excused what they’d done.

It could also be true that Harry was a victim of his own philosophy about illusion. He wanted something new and different and exciting. He wanted to feel special, too. She’d denied him all of that almost since the day he was born. Maybe the twins weren’t the only ones who needed to see things differently.

Lola tipped her head. “You know, I could use an hour at the pool.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d relaxed by the pool. “But I’ve got a meeting this afternoon while you guys are having your driving lesson. Why don’t you give me half an hour to get stuff ready for it, then I’ll come down.”

“Cool. We’ll save you a chair.” Then he dashed away, leaving the doorway empty. A moment later, there was a pounding like a herd of elephants, the front door slammed, the condo rocked as they raced down the outer stairs. Then everything fell silent.

Maybe the twins weren’t
so
bad.

By Wednesday or Thursday, she’d have the manual done and off to the boys at Fletcher for final red-lines. Which meant there’d be no work for a few days. Maybe she should take the twins to the beach on Sunday. Try out the Giant Dipper at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. The coach and his son could come with them. Yeah, great idea. She’d love to see Gray in swim trunks, water sluicing down his chest as he came out of the waves. Oh yeah. Fabulous idea.

It actually felt good to be able to make plans. She hadn’t made weekend plans with a man in ten years. It was new. It was exciting. It was special. And she didn’t think that was an illusion.

She was digging in to her half hour of work when her little Skype window popped up. Damn. Hadn’t the boys already talked to Andrea this morning? Since she hadn’t hidden her address, she had no choice but to answer. Andrea
knew
she was there.

Her sister’s face filled the screen. As usual, she was too close to the webcam. “Where are the boys?” Andrea yelled.

“They’re down at the pool.” Lola modulated her voice.

“Did you remember to tell them to put on their sunscreen?”

“They’re old enough to figure that out for themselves.”

“They’re kids, Lola. They won’t think about it until they’ve got skin cancer.”

Andrea always called them kids or boys. Lola did the same thing. But they were almost adults. “Let’s just assume they have good judgment about it.” If you believed them capable of doing something right, they could actually become capable of it. A chicken could definitely change its spots.

“Speaking of judgment, Lola, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

Andrea loved their mother’s clichés, too. “Pick away,” Lola said. She’d been picked at by the best of them, Mike. But Gray thought she was perfect. She might just start believing it.

“They said you let them eat out last night.” Andrea’s eyes went wide. “
Un
supervised.” Ah, so she had talked to the twins already.

“As I recall,” Lola said, “they’re capable of feeding themselves. I certainly haven’t had to hold a fork for them or cut their meat.”

Andrea glared bug-eyed. “I
mean
they had
hamburgers
and
fries
. All that fat. They’ll die of coronaries.”

“They’ve been getting a lot of exercise every day at the football camp. I’m sure one burger didn’t harden any arteries.”

“You’re creating bad habits.”

Lola crossed her arms, sitting back from the monitor so her sister could fully appreciate the position. “You know, Andrea, I think you should eat the chocolates instead of throwing them out.”

Andrea’s features wrinkled. “What?”

“The chocolates Ethan gives you after you’ve had an argument.”

“How do you know about the chocolates?” Andrea sputtered.

Lola ignored the question. “I think you should eat them and savor them and share them with the whole family. Let Ethan know you appreciate his effort.” She moved in, letting her face fill the little window and the big screen her sister could see. “Now
that
would teach the twins a really nice habit. Tolerance and forgiveness.” She put her hand on the mouse. “Gotta go. I told them I’d be down at the pool in half an hour. See you soon. Enjoy yourself at the next party.” She clicked the hang-up button and turned off Skype.

Half an hour later, she was ensconced on a chaise longue, sunglasses shading her eyes. The twins cavorted in the pool with three other teenagers, two girls and a guy. Marco Polo or some such thing. She’d had to borrow the twins’ sunblock. See, they did know all about UV protection. She’d slathered it on because she certainly didn’t want to ruin the skin Coach thought was so lovely.

Lola picked up her phone, punched Charlotte on speed dial.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Charlotte sounded breathless.

“Did you know that people tend to live down to your expectations?” Lola mused.

“Well, they could live up to them. It depends on the expectation.”

“I mean that if you think they’re going to do everything wrong, they usually do. If you tell them they’re failures, they usually are.”

“Ah, yeah, that can actually happen.”

“So I’m giving the twins the benefit of the doubt. No more assuming they’re going to misbehave. I’m going to assume they’ll be perfect.”

“Hello? Is this my friend Lola Cook?”

Lola laughed. “Yes, it is. After all your hours and hours of counseling me, I finally figured out that if you expect that a man’s going to reject you, so you make sure you reject him first, then obviously you’ll never get hurt. But you’ll never have a relationship either.”

“Wow, that’s profound.”

She wasn’t sure if Charlotte was being facetious. “I know.”

“Does that mean you rejected Gray? Or he rejected you? Or . . .” Charlotte let the question hang.

Lola glanced to the left, to the right, straight ahead, and decided she was clear to speak. “It means that I let him tie me to his bed and do a lot of nasty things to me. And”—she paused dramatically—“I told him I wanted a relationship.” Actually, he’d dictated that they’d have one. But she was in full agreement. And then he’d said he loved her. She was in full agreement on that, too.

Charlotte gasped. “So give me all the dirty details.”

And Lola told her everything.

* * *

TUESDAY JUST BEFORE ELEVEN, GRAY HAD HIS GUYS LINED UP FOR A
chase drill.

“Stu and Rafe, you first.” Gray clapped his hands.

Rafe barreled down the field with the ball. It was neck and neck, so to speak. Stu was supposed to focus on the tackle first before attempting to cause a fumble. In the end, Rafe kept the ball, but Stu had given it a valiant effort. And so had Rafe. His son had really made the effort. “Good job, guys.” He clapped his approval.

The sun beat down on his head. When they were done with this drill, he’d have them break for a drink and a power bar.

“Okay, Harry and William.” Hands on his knees, he squatted slightly to watch their form. Not bad. Not as good as Stu and Rafe. But their hearts had never been in the game. Nevertheless, they executed passably and he gave them their kudos.

When they’d first arrived this morning, they’d apologized for their part in Lola’s harassment. Gray had accepted without reservation.

Lola had been fifteen minutes late picking them up Sunday night. Monday at work he’d barely been able to focus, muscles aching, reminding him of each and every delightfully dirty erotic act they’d performed in their five perfect hours. Now he was dying to have her at his mercy for a whole weekend. Monday night Rafe had come over for dinner. After Sunday, Gray could definitely confirm Lola was here to stay. His son had actually said he was happy for him. He had no illusions that everything was resolved for good, that Bettina’s jealousy wouldn’t rear its head again, or that Rafe wouldn’t side with his mother if it came down to another battle, but they had a working truce and a more open line of communication. It was a damn good start, the best he’d had in five long years.

“Excellent.” Tom and Peter. Good boys. He had high hopes they’d make the high school team this year. He thought Stu had a damn good chance, too.

With the last drill executed, he clapped, then pointed. “To the tables and feast yourselves.”

They ran in one big herd. Gray headed in the same direction at a slower pace. Then a glint of silver caught his eye at the far side of the field by the gate. A flash of white morphed into a figure. A tall woman, long brown legs, tanned bare shoulders, blue tank, denim skirt, silky black hair.

His heart settled into a faster beat. She was early. They had another hour of practice to get through.

But Lola came on, a sweet sway to her hips. His motor was purring, his mouth a little dry. At the table, he raised a bottle of water to his lips and drank thirstily, his eyes on her.

She didn’t stop until she was at his side. The kids stared. She was a fine-looking woman, especially to an old man like him.

Harry and William said in unison, “Hi, Aunt Lola.”

“Hey, guys.” She wrapped her hand around Gray’s arm. Then slowly went up on her toes and put her lips on his.

Jesus. What she did to him. His temperature hit one-oh-one and kept on climbing. And she hadn’t even said a word to him. It was her sexy, sweet scent and the memory of what she’d done with that mouth just two nights ago.

Then she slipped back down to flat feet on the grass, and his world straightened.

“Hey, Coach, can I watch your players practice?”

He opened his mouth, and it took two seconds for his answer to come. “Sure.” Wow. Very eloquent.

Then she flashed a look across to the huddle by the table. “That okay with you guys?”

“Sure, Aunt Lola.” Harry or William, he didn’t look.

The others sounded off in variations of
Sure, Why not
, and
Heck yes
.

Gray looked at Rafe. His son was smiling, not big, not snide, just . . . a smile. Which was an improvement. Then he said, “Sounds great, Lola.”

Gray wanted to touch her. He wanted to lick her. But some things just weren’t appropriate.

Then Rafe broke away from the group and loped over, the twins almost right on his heels. “Lola.” He swallowed, looked back at Harry and William, then opened his mouth and started again. “I’m sorry for what I did. It was wrong.”

Gray felt a loosening in his chest and an ache right behind his eyes. He hadn’t coached Rafe on this, but his son was beginning to learn. He was even taking his lumps in front of the two younger boys.

“Thank you for the apology, Rafe. I accept.” Lola stuck out her hand.

This time Rafe shook it. “And I didn’t mean to let your cat out.”

She nodded. “The twins told me it was an accident.” Then she tipped her head. “I thought I’d take them over to the Boardwalk in Santa Cruz on Sunday. You think you and your dad would like to come?”

Gray looked at his son, waited, his heart damn near clogging his throat.

Then Rafe said, “That would be great.” He turned to Gray. “Dad, can I drive?”

“We want to drive because we have to get in our practice hours,” Harry argued. And the two started a good-natured back-and-forth.

Gray reached out, touched Lola’s hand, then wrapped her fingers in his. She smiled.

Then he smiled, knowing exactly what she was thinking. If they kept arguing, he’d have a reason to send her to the naughty corner tonight.

Keep reading for an excerpt from the next book by Jasmine Haynes

TEACH ME A LESSON

Available April 2014 from Heat Books

CHARLOTTE WORKED TUESDAYS AND THURSDAYS AS A GUIDANCE COUNSELOR
at the same high school she’d graduated from twenty years ago. She had, in fact, planned her future in this very office, from the opposite side of the desk. Carpeting had been installed over the linoleum tiles, but the desk was the same, its veneer slightly more battered, as was the credenza beneath the window, though now it was filled with her files. She’d requisitioned a small conference table and four accompanying chairs, two of which sat in front of the desk, and her chair—which she’d bought herself—was ergonomic.