Worcester Nights - The Boxed Set (8 page)

BOOK: Worcester Nights - The Boxed Set
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Mrs. O’Malley looked over at Jimmy. “So?”

He plunked down on the stool on the other side of her. “Looks like it worked. The Cubans weren’t expecting that kind of a show of force. They thought me and my bar were all they had to deal with.” He grinned. “Now they know better.”

He nudged his wife. “We did good, huh? Just like the old days.”

She gave a snort. “You fell on your ass while Seamus and Sean took care of business,” she returned. She ate the last bit of egg off her plate and stood, taking the plate over to the sink to rinse it off.

Jimmy’s shoulders fell, and he looked down at the counter for a moment. At last he turned to Sean. “Joey’s going to run the bar today, to give Katie a day off. Just in case, you know. So you take her out, have some fun.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and drew out some bills. “Get her some real food. Not that ramen crap she’s been eating.”

Sean took the bills and tucked them into his own wallet. He looked over at me. “Ready to go?”

My plate was empty, and I stood, putting my hand into his. “Absolutely.”

We walked out to the Triumph. As I picked up my helmet I noticed an odd, thick wire sticking out of the lower part of the visor. “What’s this?”

He smiled as he put his on. “In-helmet communication. Figured it might be nice to be able to talk while we’re riding.” He climbed onto the bike, and in a moment I was at his back, hugging myself close to him.

I chuckled. “Testing, testing.”

He turned the key, and the bike purred into life. “Got you loud and clear,” he responded. He turned his wrist, and the bike glided out of the back yard and onto the street. “Swing by your house so you can take a quick shower?”

“Sure, my landlady gets her hair done Thursday mornings, so you can even come in for a while.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “Tempting, so tempting, but we won’t have time for any entanglements. Not right now.”

My curiosity was piqued. “Oh? Why not?”

“You’ll see,” was all he would say.

In a few minutes we pulled up to the three-decker and walked up to the door. I hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door to my room. My tiny room would undoubtedly seem barren, lacking … but at last I led us in.

He looked around with interest, his eyes landing on the guitar, the row of books. “Cozy.”

I gave a snort. “That’s one word for it.” I rummaged through the shirts, drawing out a long sleeved green one, a pair of jeans, and the other items I’d need. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“I’ll be right here,” he promised.

It was hard turning from him, and I probably showered and dressed more quickly than I ever had in my life. When I came back to my room he was standing at the window, staring out into the street, a distant look in his eyes. He turned at my approach, his gaze warming.

“You make it challenging to stay on a timetable,” he murmured, stepping forward to put his hands on my hips. “It would be so nice to –”

A grey Subaru Outback eased past the house and turned into the driveway.

I sighed. “And there she is, right on cue.”

Sean chuckled, picking up the helmets. “Your chariot awaits, My Lady.”

We headed north, up 190, and by the time we turned west on 2 I had settled in for the ride, soaking in the lovely foliage along the twisting, turning road. The sunshine was glorious, bringing out rich orange rusts and deep crimsons from the leaves. At times he’d go off the main road and into smaller nooks, then there were spots where he hit a straightaway and opened her up, the wind blowing back my hair.

And we rode.

Our conversations streamed along with the miles, easy, relaxed, about anything and everything. I learned he adored bread pudding with a caramel-whiskey sauce. He’d always wanted to explore Alaska. He missed his mother and wished he could visit more often.

I told him about life growing up with four older brothers. Three of them were now cops like my father had been, spread out in Miami, Vegas, and Boston. The fourth ran a restaurant near Hartford. My mom was still a teacher, still trying to convince ninth graders that Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath had meaning in their lives.

The sun was embellishing the sky with purple spirals and violet whiskers by the time we were near home again and easing down the ramp into Worcester’s Shrewsbury Street district. With the area being block after block of delicious food, I wondered where Sean was planning on taking me.

I smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the Flying Rhino. Out of all the restaurants here, this one definitely had the most personality. Lime green walls, cherry-red chairs, the menu was eclectic and, by all reports, delicious. I’d never been here before. And, best of all, they’d be quite fine with our jeans and motorcycle gear. They took all comers with a smile.

My lobster ravioli was absolutely stunning, soaked in a sherry sauce, and I took another sip of my Riesling. “I won’t have room for dessert, at this rate,” I teased him.

His eyes gleamed. “No dessert here,” he countered. “I have other plans for us.”

I smiled, not even asking. I was going to leave everything in his capable hands. So far, this had been one of the best afternoons of my life.

When we were done, we suited up and drove south this time, down 146. In no time at all we had reached an abandoned drive-in. The large, stone archway entrance was cordoned off with a neon-yellow cable. Sean guided the bike around the outside of the arch, through the dense weeds, and we went up the gravel road to the drive-in area itself. The speakers and posts were long gone, but the plant-speckled pavement still had its traditional undulations. The projection house was half caved in, and the large screen had a few missing panels, but in the glowing moonlight there was a romantic, nostalgic feeling to the place.

A thick row of trees shielded us from the noise of 146, and it gave only a soft murmur as cars whooshed past.

He pulled to a stop in a prime viewing location, in front of the looming, pale screen, and I obediently climbed off. He opened up the side bags and laid out a large, dark green blanket for us. Then he brought out a bottle of bubbly, an elegantly-wrapped cheesecake, and a collection of plastic utensils and plates.

I looked at the cheesecake, impressed. “S&S Cheesecake, Bronx, NYC. I’ve heard about them.”

He grinned. “Only the best in the world,” he agreed. “Come, have a seat.” He undid the wire cage around the cork, wrapped his hand around the top of the cork, and gently eased it off. He winked at me. “Keeps the most bubbles in the wine,” he advised me. “Gets you drunk more quickly.”

“Oh, does it?” I teased. In a moment he had our glasses poured, and he held his up.

His eyes became serious. “Kay, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. To you.”

I blushed and tapped my glass against his. “Thank you. For everything.”

He took a sip, and then a playful look came back into his eyes. “And now for the main feature.”

He reached behind him and drew out a large iPad. He arranged the Champagne bottle before us, leaning the iPad against it. Then he pressed a few buttons.

Top Gun began playing, the deep bass notes echoing across the empty field.

I laughed out loud, settling back. “How did you know I liked this movie?”

His eyes twinkled. “Oh, just a guess. Would you like some cheesecake?”

“Absolutely!”

The dessert was as stunning as anticipated, the stars twinkled overhead, and by the time the movie reached its blue-hued sex scene with Tom Cruise bringing Kelly McGillis to new heights of pleasure, Sean and I were right there with them.

Chapter 8

I
twined my fingers into Sean’s across the bar’s counter, content simply being with him. We had talked so much over the past few days that I felt that we could read each other’s thoughts. He was everything I could have hoped for in a man. After all the false starts, after all the heartache, life was finally dealing me a hand I could savor.

I wished I could push away the feeling that it was all about to come tumbling down on our heads.

The Cubans had not made a peep after Sean and Seamus’s ‘visit’ two nights ago. I had no idea if this meant that the Cubans accepted the new status quo or if they were gearing up for something even more spectacular. But for now the two bodyguards lounged in boredom by the door, the regulars skittishly glanced around at every odd noise, and Jimmy paced the floor with a cock-sure attitude which seemed unnatural.

I watched him with curiosity. Had he always had this false veneer over him, or had I become more aware of it since talking with his wife about his past? I could see now how he tried to project an aura of self-assuredness, but the twitch in his eyes showed the undercurrent of nerves. Maybe it’d all been brought out by the recent conflict – but I had a sense it had always been in there. Maybe that was part of why he entertained his series of girls. Maybe they helped him feel more a “real man” amongst his peers.

A tinkle sounded at the door. I turned, and a combination of disappointment and resignation coursed through me. At least this one might have been twenty-two or twenty-three rather than barely legal. Her skin was Renaissance-pale, with wavy, red hair shimmering down past her waist. She wore a delicate, pale-blue dress which skimmed her knees. Her handbag was cream, with a Pegasus and a rose on its center, and she clutched it with both hands.

Jimmy’s eyes lit up, and he strode forward. “Ah, there you are. I thought you might have gotten lost.”

She nudged her head back toward Kelley Square. “Had to make my way across that deathtrap on foot. It took me nearly ten minutes.”

Jimmy patted her warmly on the back. “Not to worry, my dear. Come on in the back where we can talk a bit.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, guiding her into the dim hallway.

My heart sank as they turned the corner. I found myself pulling my phone out of my back pocket, clicking the text app, and sending yet another message off to Eileen.

Sean’s voice was low. “No answer from her yet?”

I shook my head, staring at the screen. “It’s been over a week since she last wrote. I hope she’s OK. I know her grandmother was very ill. Maybe things took a turn for the worse.”

He patted my hand reassuringly. “Or maybe she just misplaced her phone or something. I’m sure she’ll get back to you soon.”

His brow creased. “You know, if you really hate working here that much –”

I stuffed the phone back into my pocket. “I promised Eileen I’d keep things together until she got back. If I quit, and they had to hire another girl, they might not take Eileen on when she came home again. She’s been working here for nearly a year now and loves it. She’d never forgive me if I made a mess of things here.”

His fingers brushed over mine. “You’re very loyal to her.”

I gave a wry smile. “She was there for me when I finally wrenched myself away from Derek. I owe it to her.”

A shadow crossed his face. “I hate to think of you with that man; the things he did to you.”

I squeezed his hand and smiled. “That is all in the past now,” I assured him. “I could never trust him; he lied constantly to me.” I looked up into those steady eyes. “I know you would never lie to me. I trust my heart to you.”

He curled my fingers around his hand, then lowered his head to kiss them.

Time drifted by, our conversation wrapping us in a warm cocoon, and I barely noticed when the red-head slipped out on her way home, or the traffic in the square slowed to just a manageable Twister game. But at last Jimmy emerged from his office, yawning and stretching his arms over his head.

“That’s it, boys,” he announced to the guys. “Time to head on home.” He turned to Sean. “And you, I think you have something to show to that girl of yours.”

I looked at Sean in surprise. “You do?”

His eyes sparkled. “I was waiting until you were done for the evening.”

Jimmy made a waving motion. “Go on. I’ll lock up. You two have fun.”

Sean came around and held out my leather jacket for me, then we went out to the back lot. He rolled the Triumph out of the shed. In a moment we were in motion, but not toward my street. Instead we headed south just a few blocks and pulled up alongside a rectangular, three-story brick building.

I looked at it in surprise. “I know this place. Didn’t it used to be a schoolhouse?”

He nodded and then guided me in to the back door. He punched in the code, and we started up the stairs. “I’ve got a studio on the third floor. Jimmy and Seamus are helping me with it, in thanks for my assistance.”

A twist went through my stomach at the thought of Sean getting deeply involved with those two. “Are you sure …”

We had reached the door, and he turned to look down at me. “Am I sure what?”

I dropped my eyes. Here he was, trying to get back on his feet, finally in his first new apartment, and I was going to ruin the evening for him. I shook my head and put on a smile. “Nothing. Let’s see this new place of yours.”

He put the key in the lock, turned the knob, and pushed open the door.

I stepped through, my mouth falling open in surprise. It was stunning. The floor was polished wood, shining in the moonlight. The walls were exposed brick interspersed with white. A bank of windows overlooked the city, edged by white curtains. A large bed was against the far left wall, made with a thick, ivory cover and several large pillows. Small oak tables stood on either side of it. There was also a sturdy oak dresser, an oak table with two chairs against it, and a modern kitchen in white and chrome.

BOOK: Worcester Nights - The Boxed Set
6.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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