BAD BOY BLUES …Billy knew damn well what she wanted to do. She wanted to get laid, by him. She wanted him to rip her cl...
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BAD BOY BLUES …Billy knew damn well what she wanted to do. She wanted to get laid, by him. She wanted him to rip her clothes off, open her legs and fuck her brains out. She wanted him to make her come and come again until she was too sore to come anymore. She wanted him to take back what had always been his and, if she had her way, always would be. She wanted to smell Billy’s smell on her. She wanted to be Billy’s woman again so badly, she was having trouble holding herself together. As they drove across town, she pulled down the zipper on his pants and slipped her hand inside, loving the feel of heat and hardness as she ran the tips of her fingers over his shaft and it responded eagerly to her touch. “Where are we going?” “Somewhere private.” “I hope it’s not the local lover’s lane.” He made a noise like he was choking. “That’s not the place I had in mind.” “Where then? That farmer’s field where we used to go?” The thought of making out on damp grass and maybe getting caught made her catch her breath with anticipation. She wrapped her fingers a little tighter around his penis. It was hot, it was hard, and it was hers to command. “Somewhere we won’t be disturbed or interrupted.” “Good. We’re a bit too old to take a chance on the cops catching us with our pants down.” “And much too old to be embarrassed like that.”
ALSO BY CHRISTIANE F RANCE The Butterfly Girl Ciao, Ciao, Bambina
BAD BOY BLUES BY CHRISTIANE FRANCE
AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com
BAD BOY BLUES AN AMBER HEAT BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2006 by Christiane France ISBN 1-59279-583-8 Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber
Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com
PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
For all the bad boys and all the women whose hearts they’ve broken.
BAD BOY BLUES
BAD BOY BLUES
“Hi, lover girl. When did you get back?” Sharon recognized Billy Duval’s soft, sexy voice the moment he opened his mouth, had even been sitting here for ages, half hoping he’d find her and half hoping he wouldn’t, but she continued to stare straight ahead and move one bare foot back and forth in the cool, slow-moving waters of the creek. “Couple of hours ago. Why?” “Figured you wouldn’t miss Marie and Jack’s wedding.” “I can’t. I’m her maid of honor. How about you?” “Me? I never left.” “But I thought—“ He made a sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a groan. “That I was back in jail, or on the run from the law, or something?” Sharon nodded, wanting so much to look at him, but lacking the courage. Afraid that one glimpse of those laughing blue eyes…even 1
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more afraid his being here was only a dream. The area around the swimming hole was full of memories, ghosts, too. If she didn’t look, how could she be sure he wasn’t one of those ghosts and his still-familiar voice nothing more than a figment of her imagination? “I guess you can’t be in jail, or you wouldn’t be here.” “I could have escaped and be on the run.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe I’m one of the ten most wanted.” “Don’t be ridiculous. Even you’re not that stupid. At least, I hope you’re not.” He sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m not.” “So what happened this past spring? A mental lapse? A moment of madness? I heard you were arrested and sent to jail for drunk driving. Again.” “So I was a bit wild in my younger days. Big deal. What happened back in April was just a plain, old-fashioned misunderstanding. And I wasn’t drunk. I hadn’t had a single drop of anything. When the judge heard my explanation, he let me go.” Sharon knew she was being downright bitchy and sarcastic, but not all her memories of Billy were good. Some of those memories still hurt. “Complete with an apology, I suppose?” “You suppose right, lover girl. Once I explained how it was I couldn’t drive the damn car straight because the steering had gone, he was all ready to lock up the cop for arresting me in the first place.” “Was the car stolen?” Billy’s soft chuckle sent a trickle of awareness tiptoeing down Sharon’s back. “Now why would you think a nasty thing like that?” She pushed the feeling away. “From what I was told, not only was the car stolen, you were drunk and driving like a crazy person. You also refused to stop when the cops gave chase.” “Yeah, well…maybe my sister should check with me and get her 2
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stories straight first, before she starts spreading rumors. Fact is, I couldn’t stop. The brakes had gone, as well as the steering. And I didn’t steal the damn thing. I only borrowed it for an hour to check it out.” “All sounds very convenient to me,” Sharon said, shifting from bitchy to patronizing, and managing to do so without dissolving into laughter. “It was a wreck that belonged to a friend. He didn’t want it, so I was trying it out to see if I could fix it up for this kid I know. Freakin’ miracle I was even able to start the damn engine.” The conversation was as familiar to Sharon as Billy’s voice. Her trying to nail him for some small transgression, and him trying to wiggle his way out of it. Convinced this was no dream, she leaned back against the trunk of one of the trees growing along the edge of the creek. “You trying to tell me you’ve reformed?” “Not exactly.” He chuckled again. The low, sexy chuckle that had always succeeded in stirring her up in the past was again working its magic. “I still have the odd beer once in a while.” As he moved in closer and she felt his lips, then his hands, brush against her bare shoulders, instinct told Sharon to run. Now, while she still had the chance. But Billy’s hands were warm and the movement of his fingertips hypnotic as his breath fanned across her bare back while he massaged both the years and her resistance away. “Like Christmas and birthdays?” she murmured, her throat too tight with emotion to say the words any louder. “Weddings ’n’ funerals, too. And hot days like today.” As he spoke, Billy let her go, reached down into the creek and pulled out two bottles of lager. “Want one? They’ve been here since last weekend, so they should be just about right.” “Sounds good.” She hesitated, annoyed to feel what she recognized as a rush of plain, unadulterated jealousy. The creek was her and Billy’s special place. “What were you doing here last weekend? 3
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Making out? Or hanging out with the boys?” Sharon knew there had to have been other women. Billy was a redblooded male, and she’d been gone a long time. But please, dear God, not here! “Neither. Just me having a quiet drink while I tried to catch a fish or two.” As Billy flipped off the caps, Sharon finally found the courage to turn around and look at him, more than a little shocked by the changes she saw. Gone were the tangle of curls and long, dark hair, the guileless smile and the lean, bony body of the rebellious boy whose favorite outfit had been a ragged, washed out T-shirt and ancient, totally disreputable jeans. The boy she’d fallen in love with the day he climbed up the pear tree in her grandma’s garden and rescued her kitten. The same boy who’d taken her on more adventures and gotten her into more trouble with her parents than she could ever have managed by herself. Lord, how she’d loved Billy back then! He’d been the first person she thought about when she opened her eyes in the morning, and she’d always finished her prayers with “Please, God, please do whatever you can to keep Billy safe,” just before she went to sleep. But the boy who’d lived in her memory all these years was no more. In his place was a fully grown man, wearing clean, freshly pressed blue jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, a white T-shirt, and a checkered, long-sleeve flannel shirt instead of a jacket. A man with a short, regulation haircut that showed a tiny sprinkling of silver, a body that spoke of hard work or rigorous workouts, maybe even both, and a serious expression on his handsome face. The only remnant of the boy she’d once known was the familiar touch of his hands and the same sexy twinkle in his deep blue eyes. “Well?” Sharon wasn’t sure if Billy wanted to know why she was staring at 4
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him, or why she hadn’t taken the beer he was offering. “I…umm…” She took a deep breath, grabbed the beer and turned away. What had she expected? She hadn’t seen Billy in over ten years, and she hadn’t been back to Jacob’s Corners in almost five—not since her dad died and she’d come home for his funeral. During those ten years, Sharon and her best friend Marie, who also happened to be Billy’s sister, had finished college and found themselves jobs as flight attendants with a major airline. But while she and Marie were jetting around the world, living the life, Sharon knew Billy had gotten himself into more scrapes than anyone could count. According to what their mom had told Marie, he’d been in and out of the town jail so many times for a string of minor offences the police chief had been overheard to say he was thinking of installing a revolving door just for young Billy Duval. Sharon also knew that after she left town, Billy, with the help of his best friend, Mark Sayers, had graduated from minor to major offences. As a result, Billy had spent four of those ten years in the penitentiary, locked up with the worst kind of criminals imaginable. It was the first time the pair had found themselves in serious trouble with the law, and they’d done it in spectacular style. The charges had included stealing a car, drinking and driving without a license, being in possession of illegal drugs, demolishing town property, and leaving a young woman crippled for life—at least that had been the doctors’ initial diagnosis. From what Marie had told Sharon, some people thought the fouryear sentence was rather harsh, while others thought the pair had got off lightly. Fortunately, the young woman’s injuries had not turned out to be serious after all—just a couple of nasty scars and a slight limp, all of which the doctors assured the court were easily fixable. But Sharon knew it could have been a whole lot worse. Billy and Mark could have killed someone and gone to jail for life. “Cat got your tongue?” 5
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“I was just thinking how much I used to love you. How I still—” The awful realization she’d spoken the words out loud sent a flush of embarrassment rocketing up Sharon’s neck and flooding her face. “I mean…I—” She tried to laugh off the slip, but the laughter sounded false, even to her own ears. “I mean years ago, when I was a teenager. You know what teenage girls are like. Always imagining themselves in love with someone.” Billy concentrated his attention on his beer. “You’ve never married?” “No.” “But there must be a man in your life.” Apart from the occasional date with men she worked with and a disastrous, short-lived affair with a man from the apartment complex where she currently lived, Sharon’s love life had been less than exciting. “Not at the moment.” “Me, neither.” He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I missed you, lover girl.” “I missed you, too. I—” As Billy’s lips nuzzled her neck, Sharon caught the scent of his body heat and felt the familiar warmth between her legs, amazed that ten years could evaporate in the space of a heartbeat. She wanted him closer, she wanted to feel him touching her. She wanted him to take off her panties and make her come the way he used to. She wanted to feel his long fingers moving up and down inside her, building the tension until the world and everything in it exploded. And she wanted what came after. Once she was satisfied, she wanted to attend to Billy’s needs, bring him to climax the way he’d taught her. She wanted to see the happiness on his face and the love in his eyes, and then hear that long, drawn out sigh of pure contentment when she took him over the edge. Back then, they hadn’t dared go the whole way. For one thing, they were scared of the risks involved, and with her dad owning and 6
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operating the town’s one and only drugstore, purchasing any form of protection was right out of the question. Blanking her mind to the delights of the past, even though, like most women nowadays, she carried a condom in her purse, Sharon slipped out of Billy’s embrace. She had a nice, boring life. A life she enjoyed. She did not need the kind of complications a couple of sessions of white-hot sex with Billy could bring to it. She stood up and brushed a few bits of dirt and grass from her shorts. “I guess a lot has happened since I last saw you.” “You could say that.” Billy shrugged, then he smiled, a wry, sad smile that pulled at her heartstrings. “I’ve changed, and so have you. But I guess Marie has kept you right up to date with all the goings on around here.” “She’s mentioned a few things now and then.” “So you know I spent four years in the pen?” “Marie said Mark was driving the car, not you. Why didn’t you tell the police the truth?” Billy’s lips twisted in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And break Mark’s mother’s heart? Me and Mark were best friends. And Mark didn’t have a license.” “Neither did you. Marie said your license was suspended at the time. She also said Mark was the one dealing drugs. Not you. Something else I understand his mom didn’t know about.” “You know Mark’s dead?” Sharon nodded. “I heard he died while the two of you were in prison. A fight over drugs, Marie said.” Billy shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “If we hadn’t had the accident that night, and I’d had more time to try and talk some sense into him, Mark might still be alive.” “And if he was, I guarantee he’d still be dealing.” A flash of anger illuminated Billy’s face, turning his eyes from their 7
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normal deep sapphire blue to thunderstorm black. “How do you know I wasn’t dealing, too?” Sharon looked at Billy hard, trying to decide if he was putting her on or if he was telling the truth. But ten years was a long time. More than enough time to develop a poker face that would fool even an expert. “Okay, I wasn’t there. But I just know you would never have done a stupid thing like that.” “And maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Where do you think I got the money to support Mom after Dad died?” “I’m reasonably certain you didn’t get it from drugs. When I left town you had a whole bunch of jobs. You worked at the gas station during the day, you did evenings at my dad’s pharmacy, and you also took any odd jobs that came your way. I also know there was a decent insurance policy, and that Marie helped out as well.” “My parents had an expensive lifestyle and Dad left a lot of bills. You think what I earned paid for all that?” “I have no idea.” “No, Sharon, you don’t. You weren’t here, so you have no idea at all.” Sharon felt an uncomfortable twinge of conscience. Billy had been close to his dad. She’d been close to her own dad, and she knew how hard it had been to lose him. She should have called Billy, written him a letter, done something to let him know she was thinking about him. But the fact was she hadn’t done anything at all. “So, why didn’t you tell the police the truth about who was driving that night?” “Because I had this crazy idea that as long as I stuck close to Mark nothing bad would happen to him.” “You can’t protect people from themselves, Billy.” “I know that now. But I had to try. Stupid, huh?” “Criminally stupid, as it turned out. I would have thought you had 8
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more sense.” Sharon smiled and touched Billy’s hand, determined to dispel any bad feelings her words might have caused before they could take serious hold. “I feel terrible about what happened to Mark. He didn’t deserve to die. But sometimes people just don’t want to be helped.” “That’s why us smart ones have to convince them otherwise. Right?” He smiled, one of those sun-coming-out-after-the-storm kind of smiles, then he grasped both her hands and pulled her close. “Let’s forget about Mark. I know Marie is having dinner tonight with Jack and his parents, so how about you and me getting together for old time’s sake. What do you say?” No! No! No! Sharon swallowed hard, wanting to accept Billy’s invitation, but more than a little afraid where it would lead. Where, if she told the absolute truth, she wanted it to lead. “Please,” he urged, knowing her well enough to sense her reluctance. “Burger and fries at The Shack, or I’ll even dress up and take you into town if that’s what you want. Your choice.” Marie’s family home was overflowing with relatives, so Sharon was staying at the local hotel. And since her only reason for being here in Jacob’s Corners was Marie’s wedding, she couldn’t plead a prior engagement, or even the old, time-honored excuse of having to stay home to wash her hair. But… “If you’re worried about being alone with me, we could have a few drinks at the hotel. Sit at the bar with the world as our witness. You’d be one hundred per cent safe.” Sharon bit back a laugh. “Safe? With you?” “Of course you’ll be safe with me. I don’t recall ever hurting you when we were kids and you lived here. Do you?” Not in the way you mean, but you broke my heart when I left town and you did nothing to stop me from leaving. You broke my heart into 9
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so many tiny pieces it’s never been the same since. “No. But you got me into trouble with my parents a few times.” He smiled, the familiar twinkle back in his deep blue eyes as he pulled her even closer. “Was it worth it?” She laughed. “Too long ago. I don’t remember.” “In that case, I’ll have to see what I can do about reminding you.” He released her hands and took a step back. “What time shall I pick you up?” “I haven’t said yes, yet.” “But you will.” He hesitated. “Six too early?” “Six is fine. What should I wear? Formal? Informal?” He frowned, then took hold of her hands again. “Let’s dress up and go into town. We can have dinner, go dancing, whatever you want. Make a special night of it. How does that sound?” Sounds downright dangerous to me! She swallowed a sigh. “Sounds wonderful.” Kissing the first two fingers of his right hand, he pressed them against her lips—the exact same way he’d always done when they were kids, then he started walking backward in the general direction of a truck that was parked at the end of the road. “It will be. I can promise you that.” That’s what I’m afraid of! “You need a lift into town?” “No, thanks. I’ll walk. I need the exercise.” *
*
*
When Sharon got back to what had once been the old commercial travelers’ hotel on Main Street, she took off her shorts and halter top, and filled the old-fashioned claw-footed tub with warm water. After adding a handful of the rose perfumed crystals from the glass container on the vanity, she stepped in and spent the next hour relaxing in the warm, perfumed water, dreaming about old times. 10
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She’d been no more than eight and Billy around ten when he’d rescued her cat, Twiddles, from that tree, and they’d fallen head over heels in love with one another. From that moment on, Billy had been her hero, her knight in shining armor, despite the scrapes he’d gotten himself into, and her, too, on occasion. He’d carried her books, kissed her cuts and bruises better, defended her honor whenever the need arose, and made it clear to anyone who cared—and also to those who didn’t—that Sharon Lee Parker was his girl. But that had all changed when she told Billy she was leaving town to attend college on the West Coast. He’d just wished her good luck and waved goodbye in the same casual, impersonal way he would have done with someone he barely knew. He hadn’t said a word against her choosing a school so far away, he hadn’t tried to talk her out of it, and he hadn’t even said he’d miss her. She’d neither seen nor heard from him again until today. She’d been so hurt and so angry when she left town, she’d sworn to find someone to replace Billy in her affections at the first opportunity. She’d tried hard to find someone else. But her efforts in that direction had been a major waste of time because she’d never met anyone who even halfway measured up to Billy Duval. Which was the reason why she was now twenty-nine and still single, and there hadn’t been more than a couple of days go by in the past ten years when she hadn’t given Billy at least a passing thought. But during those ten years, she could guarantee Billy hadn’t wasted any of his time thinking about her. Not once had he bothered to send her a message via Marie, even though he had to know she and Marie were still best friends and worked for the same airline, let alone made any effort to get in touch with her directly. Which made Sharon wonder what tonight was all about. Although there were several direct flights to Toronto, they’d all been fully booked for the date she’d wanted, so she’d had to leave L.A. a day 11
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earlier than originally planned. Maybe Marie felt guilty about leaving her on her own tonight and had asked Billy to pick up the slack. Except Sharon knew Marie would never do a thing like that without asking first. Perhaps Billy was the one feeling guilty. Sharon found it hard to imagine Billy feeling guilty about anything. But even supposing he did feel bad about the way they’d parted, did he think he could take her out to dinner, reminisce about old times for a couple of hours and all would be forgiven? That he could then go home with a clear conscience and sleep the sleep of the righteous? Not in this lifetime, Sharon assured herself as she got out of the rapidly cooling bath water and grabbed for one of the large, fluffy bath towels hanging on the rail. If Billy thought he could make up for the ten years she’d spent hoping for a miracle or, at the very least, a word from him with a lousy steak dinner or whatever, then he had another think coming. After toweling herself dry, she emptied her suitcase on the bed and selected the lacey strapless bra and panties she’d paid a fortune for on her last trip to Paris. A sexy ensemble she’d been saving for an extra special occasion. Well, tonight would be more than extra special. Tonight, she intended to have Billy Duval down on his grubby little knees begging for mercy. After applying a light foundation, a little blush, eyeliner and green eye-shadow to highlight her auburn hair, she checked through the various garments she’d hung in the closet. Instead of the casual black pants and embroidered top she always relied on to take her out to dinner just about anywhere, she chose a black chiffon, bias-cut shift with spaghetti straps and a fashionably frilled hemline. This was another one-of-a-kind item from that shopping spree in Paris. She hadn’t thought she’d have an opportunity to wear the dress this weekend, but she’d long ago learned to pack for any and all 12
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eventualities. She slipped on the dress, added a pair of high-heeled, strappy black sandals, and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. Perfect! The kind of dress that would do everything it was designed to do, and maybe even more. Smiling to herself, she pulled back her shoulders and ran her hands over her breasts, and down her flat stomach. At the juncture of her thighs, she paused and closed her eyes, her thoughts fixed on Billy and his clever hands and those long, tapering, magical fingers. She could feel him touching her now. Stroking her most intimate parts, teasing her until she was wet, then his mouth and his tongue would be there, teasing and exploring and driv— Before she could finish the thought and have to change her underwear, she took a deep breath, opened her eyes and smoothed the dress down over her hips. She’d decided to leave her shoulder-length hair loose—if she played her cards right, chances were good Billy would want to run his fingers through her hair the way he did when they were kids. In fact, dressed the way she was, there was no limit to what Billy might want to do tonight. Of course, whether or not she would let him was something else entirely… She checked her watch. Five minutes to go until six o’clock. Giving her pulse points a tiny spritz of perfume, she permitted herself a selfsatisfied smile, picked up her purse and headed for the door. By the time this evening was over, she’d have good ol’ Billy begging for mercy. As she left the elevator and walked into the main part of the lobby, she looked through the open front door and saw Billy was already there, waiting. Dressed in black slacks, black polo and a black leather jacket, he was leaning against a white convertible parked at the curb, looking like the cover model for a sex magazine. “Nice,” she murmured, giving the car an appreciative glance as she 13
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joined him. “Is this yours?” “No. And it’s not stolen, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he replied, a distinct edge to his voice and a faint, humorless smile on his face. “It’s rented?” “No. It belongs to a friend.” “What about the truck you were driving when you came to the creek?” “What’s with all the questions, officer?” “Just curious.” “You know what happened to curiosity?” “No.” “The cat ate it.” “I thought it killed the cat.” “Whatever.” “So…is the truck stolen?” From the furious look on Billy’s face, Sharon wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d jumped in the convertible and taken off, leaving her to eat his dust. It would have served her right for goading him. But she knew backing down from a fight wasn’t Billy’s style. Instead of running, he bared his teeth and muttered, “The truck’s mine. At least it will be after a few more payments. Want to see the registration, officer?” “I’ll take your word,” she said sweetly, then added, as Billy opened the passenger door and she stepped in, “You must be doing well. A late-model truck like that costs a fortune.” “True. And before you ask, no, I haven’t taken up robbing banks, little old ladies, or anything else. At least, not yet.” Billy closed her door, then stomped around the vehicle and settled himself in the driver’s seat before letting off steam by giving the high-powered engine a couple of revs. He waited for another vehicle to pass, then pulled away from the curb. On the next block, he stopped for a red light. 14
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“Sorry, I should’ve asked if you’re okay with the top down. If you’re not, I’ll stop and put it up.” “No, it’s fine.” She relaxed in the butter-soft leather seat, loving the rush of wind in her hair as the light changed and Billy stepped on the gas. Within seconds, Jacob’s Corners was left behind in the fast fading cloud of dust she could see in the rearview mirror. “Where are we going?” “Hamilton,” he replied, naming the nearest large town. He gave her hand a quick squeeze, then let it go. “You seem determined to think the worst of me, so I figured I’d better try and redeem myself.” “And you figure spending a ton of money, wining and dining me will accomplish that?” The injured look he gave her was, she knew, supposed to come across as humble and contrite, but then he spoiled it with an exaggerated sigh. “It won’t?” She chuckled. “No way, sugar boy. I can’t be bought off that easy.” He fiddled with the radio until he found an FM station specializing in golden oldies. An early Phil Collins tune was playing and, as Billy sang along with the artist, he reached again for her hand. This time, though, he didn’t let go, and Sharon closed her eyes, remembering all the other times they’d held hands and listened to music like this. They’d both loved romantic ballads and classic soft rock and in that respect at least, it seemed nothing had changed. After a few more familiar old pieces they both either sang or hummed along with, Sharon opened her eyes and realized they were already on the outskirts of Hamilton. The usual driving time from Jacob’s Corners to the city was anywhere from thirty to forty minutes, and while Billy had stayed well within the speed limit, today’s trip felt like it had taken no more than five. Once they left the highway, instead of stopping at a restaurant in the downtown area as Sharon had expected, Billy continued driving until 15
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they came to a street running along the edge of Lake Ontario in the north end of the city. Sharon hadn’t been to this part of town in years. Not since the days when her father owned a boat, and he’d been a regular customer at a marine supply shop she knew was somewhere along this street. At least, the shop used to be here. After a couple of blocks, Billy slowed down and turned into a restaurant parking lot. As he opened the passenger door and she stepped out, Sharon took a brief look around, certain the restaurant was a recent addition. From what she remembered, there hadn’t been much along this block when she came here with her dad—a few old, dilapidated houses and some boarded-up warehouses facing a deserted strip of beach. But the buildings she remembered were all gone. The houses had been replaced with a row of townhouses, the restaurant occupied the land that had once been home to the warehouses, and flower boxes separated the beach from the sidewalk. There were even benches on the beach where people could sit and look out over the water. “Good thing I know where I am, otherwise I wouldn’t recognize this street,” she said, then explained about the trips she’d made here with her father in search of spare parts for his boat. “Lots of changes all around the north end, and not before time,” Billy said as he slipped an arm around her shoulders and urged her in the direction of the restaurant. “There were a couple of crack houses where the condos are now and a local gang had its headquarters in one of the warehouses that used to be here. Not a place you’d want to come for a stroll after dark, I can assure you. But about six or seven years ago, a developer bought up this whole block, got rid of the houses, which were condemned anyway, and built townhouse-condos. The one building worth saving was a warehouse the developer already owned, so he turned that into a beach club, which is now this restaurant. He 16
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also had plans to renovate and extend the old dock and turn it into a marina.” “Did he run out of money or change his mind?” Billy pulled open the restaurant door, then stood back for her to precede him inside. “Before he got that far, the city closed him down for various health and by-law infractions. And by the time that was all sorted out, the man was bankrupt.” “’Evening, folks. How are you?” The instant Sharon saw the hostess, she knew the older woman’s face was familiar. Something about her smile, the way she held her head… To Sharon’s surprise, Billy leaned forward and kissed the hostess on the cheek. “Hi, Meggy. How’s it going tonight?” Meggy? Of course! Mark Sayers’ mom, Megan. “Fine. But what are you doing here? It’s your day off.” Ignoring the question, Billy drew Sharon forward. “Do you remember Sharon Parker.” “I thought you looked familiar,” Megan said, shaking the hand Sharon offered. “But it must be years since I last saw you.” “I think it was at my dad’s funeral,” Sharon said, then reached out and touched Megan’s arm. “I was so sorry to hear about Mark.” “Thank you. Mark was my son. I loved him, and I’ll never stop missing him. But…” She gave Sharon a wry look. “Mark was a hard head who wouldn’t listen to anyone except himself, so I’m afraid what happened was almost inevitable.” Suddenly, the sadness Sharon had noticed on Megan’s face while she talked about her late son disappeared and her smile returned as she turned to Billy. “I didn’t expect to see you again until tomorrow. I thought you said you had plans for tonight.” Recalling what Megan had said when they first arrived, Sharon frowned and looked at Billy. “You work here?” 17
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“In a way.” “What way is that? You’re a bit old to be a busboy.” Megan chuckled. “Billy and I are partners in this restaurant. I guess he didn’t tell you.” After just suggesting he might be a busboy, Sharon felt like a fool. “Partners?” she said, turning to look at Billy. “Yes. But in spirit only. And close your mouth…there are flies in the vicinity,” Billy whispered, then added, “Yup. Meggy needed something to do after the company she worked for moved to Kitchener, and I needed someone to keep me on the straight and narrow, so here we are.” “You combined forces and opened this restaurant?” “The restaurant was already open. I came along after the fact.” Sharon glanced at the small bar located to the right of the hostess’ station just inside the entrance, then to the main part of the restaurant beyond. Dark wood paneled walls and small, lattice windows enclosed a dimly lit space containing about twenty or thirty tables. At least half of the tables were occupied by diners, and all were covered with snowy white tablecloths, gleaming silverware and sparkling crystal glasses. At the far end of the room, sliding glass doors opened onto a patio where there were more tables filled with diners enjoying what she now noticed was a spectacular sunset. To one side of the patio, a pianist was coaxing a current hit song out of a baby grand piano. “So what do you think?” Billy asked. “Wow! It’s beautiful. How long have you been open?” “A little more than eighteen months,” Megan replied. “Long enough to get past a few start-up problems and begin building a clientele.” “I wonder why Marie never told me about this? She mentioned something about you working in Hamilton, but she didn’t give me any details.” “That’s because Marie doesn’t know where I work. No one in my 18
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family knows, and for now I want to keep it like that. Anyway, there is no partnership.” He hesitated and looked down at the floor. “Meg is the owner. I’m an employee. Nothing more, nothing less.” More people were coming through the door behind them, filling the small lobby to capacity, so Megan beckoned Billy and Sharon forward. “Are you eating here or going somewhere else?” “Here.” Billy grabbed a couple of menus from Megan. “You worry about the customers. We can fend for ourselves.” “So how come you and Megan decided to go into business together?” she asked, her curiosity close to bursting as she following Billy through the main dining room and out onto the patio. It was the kind of place that screamed top class in every direction, and she couldn’t help but wonder how they’d come up with the necessary cash. Billy found them a table in a secluded corner of the patio, but instead of answering her question, he beckoned a waiter over. “I don’t drink when I’m driving, so I’m having a soda. You want a glass of wine?” “Soda’s fine with me.” The waiter left to get the drinks, and Billy again took possession of her hand. “I like your dress. It suits you.” “Thanks.” Billy still hadn’t answered her question, and she had a feeling he didn’t intend to. He’d told her about his business relationship with Megan Sayers, which he’d been under no obligation to do, and she had no right to interrogate him. Megan was about the same age as Billy’s mother, so it wasn’t likely there was anything between her and Billy other than business. On the other hand, it didn’t alter the fact she very much wanted to hear all the details as to how Megan and Billy were now working together and why. “Whose idea was it to open a restaurant?” “Meg’s dad’s, actually. Bob Sayers was a professional chef for most of his life. He worked at a number of top hotels in Canada and the 19
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States, and also as private chef to a couple of celebrities, but he’d always wanted his own restaurant. So, when the developer went bust and this place came on the market, he got it at a bargain basement price.” “How did Megan get involved?” “She was out of a job and looking for something new, so the plan was for the two of them to run it together. If it became the success that they hoped, then down the road they planned to increase traffic by going ahead with the marina they’d seen in the developer’s original plan. But then Bob found out he had heart problems and had to slow down. Within a couple of months of opening, we all knew the stress of owning his own business was too much for him, so he turned the restaurant over to Meg, and he and Meg’s mom moved to Florida.” “And that’s where you came in?” “At one time, I spent a lot of time at Mark’s place. Meg was like a second mom to me, and after Mark’s death, I kept in touch with her. I’d drop by the house once in a while—make sure she was okay, and take care of any chores that needed doing. She knew I was having trouble finding a fulltime job, so when she and her dad opened the restaurant, they offered me one here. Everything was fine at first. “But when Bob’s health forced him to quit, it didn’t take a genius to realize Meg was in over her head. She has more than enough business experience to run a restaurant, but she was under-capitalized, her dad was the chef not her, and it takes a good chef to bring in the business. If anyone had offered to buy her out, she would have been a fool not to take it. But of course, no one did.” “So what’s with the partnership?” He smiled, then shook his head. “There is no partnership, except in Meggy’s head.” “Then why did she say there is?” “Because a while back I found her in tears over a stack of unpaid 20
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bills. She said some of the people she owed were threatening to sue. I couldn’t come up with the kind of money she needed. All I could give her was moral support, so I bought her a lottery ticket to cheer her up— one of those scratch card things, and it turned out to be a big winner. It was a gift, plain and simple, but Meg refuses to see it that way.” “Is everything fine now?” “She’s hanging in. Just. Problem is, restaurants eat up money faster than the customers eat up the food. But if the customers keep coming, and nothing unforeseen happens…” “Meaning things are still a bit tight?” “Meg’s a good manager, and I admit the place looks successful. But what you see is something of a façade. Tonight’s a good night. But they’re not all like this. Sometimes we don’t fill more than a couple of tables. She needs to count every grain of flour and watch every single penny, and I’m not sure even that will be enough.” “So what would be enough?” “We need a drawing card. Something to attract more people and solve the cash flow problem. The food is what they come for, so the real answer is a top line chef willing to work for peanuts.” “What’s wrong with the chef you have now?” “We have two. And there’s nothing wrong with them. It’s just they have no reputation and they’re short on experience. Big name entertainment on the weekends would help. And I know for sure a marina would increase business. But what the developer had in mind in the original plans is out of the question.” “Why not renovate the existing dock? Even if you only have enough space for say half a dozen or so small boats that would be more than you have now.” “True. But renovations cost money—money Meg doesn’t have. And finding an investor willing to plunk money into something as iffy as a restaurant that’s operating on the edge is impossible.” He 21
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shrugged. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you with problems that don’t have answers. You hungry?” As Billy trapped her gaze, forcing her to look at him, something that felt like an electrical charge shot through Sharon’s body. Not only did the feeling take her completely by surprise, it left a fire raging exactly halfway between her waist and her knees. Yes! She was hungry. Hungry for him, damn it! Starving, in fact. She grabbed a copy of the menu with her free hand and tried to make sense of words that kept dancing around the page instead of staying put so she could read them. Unable to concentrate, she put the menu down. “What would you recommend?” He smiled, making her shiver with anticipation as he brought her hand to his mouth and started nibbling on her fingers. “The filet is good, so is the veal. There’s fresh fish, and pasta…” He hesitated. His eyes were now a dark, smoky blue and his smile unnervingly sexy. “There’s also the daily special.” Sharon’s chest felt so tight she could hardly breathe. “What’s today’s special?” Holding her gaze, he ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of her forefinger, sending a thousand sensations rippling across her nerve endings and heaping fuel on a fire already burning out of control. “Me.” “What?” For a moment, she thought she’d misheard, but knew she hadn’t. Snatching her hand away, she managed to control a shriek of hysterical laughter. “You are one arrogant idiot. You know that?” “You don’t want me?” “I…umm…” “As that woman on TV says, ‘umm is not an answer.’” “Yes, I know.” The waiter came back with their drinks, and Billy told him he’d let him know when they’d decided on entrées. As the man moved on to 22
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another table, Billy laced their fingers together. “So….are you going to answer my question or not?” Sharon considered pretending that she’d forgotten the question. She even considered telling a big, fat lie. “We haven’t seen each other in more than ten years, Billy. Lots of things have happened in that time. We can’t just pick up where we left off. We’re not even the same people we were back then.” “True. But the fact we’re still both single and unattached should tell us something.” She took a sip of soda. “That we’ve both been too busy, or maybe too smart, to settle down?” “No. It should tell us why those ten years disappeared the moment I saw you today sitting by the old swimming hole. And why we were able to slip back into old habits the way we did. Like you calling me to account for my sins, and me trying to pretend I was innocent. And please, don’t say you don’t want me, because all I have to do is look at you to know that you do.” He grinned as he brought her hand back to his mouth and gave one of her fingers a sharp nip. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re almost salivating at the thought.” He hesitated, his grin broadening slightly. “And if that didn’t tell me, the way you keep wriggling around in your seat would.” “You think so?” “I know so.” She snatched her hand away. Since Billy knew her so well and hadn’t forgotten a single thing, she decided to let him know the real truth as to how she felt. “If I was that important to you, why didn’t you try to talk me out of leaving way back when? And why have you let all these years go by without once trying to contact me? You could’ve called. You could’ve sent me a card.” “So could you.” 23
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“Why would I? After the way you behaved, I figured you didn’t care.” “Hah, so now we’re getting down to what’s really bothering you.” “Nothing’s bothering me. I’m just trying to be logical. Ten years is a long time for anyone to carry around feelings and do nothing about them. If you’d cared, you’d have either called or written. You’d have done something.” “Maybe so. But for what it’s worth, I didn’t try to talk you out of leaving because I knew it would make you even more determined to go. And I didn’t make a fuss the day you left because I know you too well. You’d have changed your mind about leaving and would’ve stayed for all the wrong reasons. As for why I never wrote or called…” His full lips twisted in a grimace. “Ten years ago, I was a kid looking for trouble who found more than he could handle. I didn’t need you ragging on me along with everyone else. And there was no way in hell I wanted to take you down with me. But don’t ever think I stopped caring about you. Not then, not now. Not ever.” He flicked the corner of the menu with his thumb. “You ready to order something?” Sharon was too busy trying to take in what Billy had just said to think about food, but she knew if she didn’t eat something now, she’d be starving later on. She picked up the menu again. “French onion soup to start with, and then…how’s the lobster salad?” “Magnificent. When I’m working, I always do that one myself.” “You’re a cook?” “No way. A cook works in a diner.” He smiled and punched her lightly on the arm. “In prison, which was where I learned food preparation, I was a cook. In the world of fine dining where I work now, I’m a chef.” “Really? From rehab to the real world in one easy step. Cool.” “Hardly. I had to spend a couple of years at chef school and then do 24
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a stint of what felt like slave labor at one of Toronto’s top hotels before I could handle a job like the one here.” While they ate dinner, Sharon told Billy about her life as a flight attendant and shared a few entertaining stories of passengers determined to join the Mile High Club, then he reciprocated with a few wild stories of his own. After the waiter brought their coffee, Sharon noticed a guitarist had joined forces with the man at the piano and that several couples were now swaying to the music on the postage stamp-sized dance floor. Billy stood up and offered her his hand. “Shall we?” The moment Sharon stepped into Billy’s arms and they began to move to the music, once again the past ten years disappeared as she remembered other times and other places where they’d slow-danced like this—her parents’ basement family room; Billy’s bedroom, where they’d gone a few times when his parents were out; school dances, and, in particular, their high school prom when Billy and Mark Sayers had gotten themselves drunk and given their teacher, Miss Brown, a glass of soapy water they’d told the poor woman was extra-fizzy ginger ale. She smiled at the memories, then laid her head on his shoulder, feeling his erection press against her belly as he slid his hands down over her buttocks and pulled her in close. Sharon knew Billy was as aroused as she was. But somehow they managed to get through one more dance before saying goodnight to Megan and going out to the parking lot in search of Billy’s borrowed car. “You want to go back to your hotel, or shall we go for a drive?” he asked as he turned on to the street and reached again for her hand. As he continued along the edge of the lake, he pressed her fingers over his rigid cock. “Unless, of course, there’s something else you’d like to do.” “Not the hotel.” Sharon gritted her teeth and gave him a tight, little grin, wishing she could stay mad at him, but knowing she couldn’t. 25
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Billy knew damn well what she wanted to do. She wanted to get laid, by him. She wanted him to rip her clothes off, open her legs and fuck her brains out. She wanted him to make her come and come again until she was too sore to come anymore. She wanted him to take back what had always been his and, if she had her way, always would be. She wanted to smell Billy’s smell on her. She wanted to be Billy’s woman again so badly, she was having trouble holding herself together. As they drove across town, she pulled down the zipper on his pants and slipped her hand inside, loving the feel of heat and hardness as she ran the tips of her fingers over his shaft and it responded eagerly to her touch. “Where are we going?” “Somewhere private.” “I hope it’s not the local lover’s lane.” He made a noise like he was choking. “That’s not the place I had in mind.” “Where then? That farmer’s field where we used to go?” The thought of making out on damp grass and maybe getting caught made her catch her breath with anticipation. She wrapped her fingers a little tighter around his penis. It was hot, it was hard, and it was hers to command. “Somewhere we won’t be disturbed or interrupted.” “Good. We’re a bit too old to take a chance on the cops catching us with our pants down.” “And much too old to be embarrassed like that.” As he spoke, Billy pulled into the driveway of a darkened house, turned off the engine, and held up his keys. He raised his eyebrows enquiringly. “Want to come inside?” Chuckling at the double entendre, Sharon removed her hand from Billy’s pants and peered at the house. “Does the house belong to the same friend as this car?” “No. House is mine. I only moved in a month ago, so don’t expect 26
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anything grand. Place is a mess. I haven’t finished unpacking, I’m in the middle of renovating the kitchen, and I haven’t had time to buy much in the way of furniture.” Billy unlocked the front door and switched on a light, and Sharon followed him into the tiled entrance hall. But before she had time to look around, he’d closed the door, turned off the light, and she was in his arms, his mouth finding hers in the semi-darkness. His tongue plundered her mouth, then his lips moved down her neck and he began sucking her nipples through the delicate fabric of her dress, while his hands pushed her skirt up to her waist and found their way into her panties. At the first tentative touch of his fingers against her sensitized flesh, her legs turned to water and for a moment she was afraid they wouldn’t hold her. He stroked the inside of her thighs, urging her legs apart. When his fingers found her clit, she heard herself moaning with pleasure, the pleasure doubling as they slid upward into her wetness. She began rocking rock back and forth against his hand, slowly at first, then gathering speed as she felt herself nearing the edge. “No. Not that way,” Billy muttered against her mouth. “Wait here a minute. I’ll be right back.” In less than the promised minute Billy was back. After removing her panties, he lifted her up. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said as he centered her over his erection and then brought her down until she sheathed him completely. “That feel good?” he murmured against her mouth. “More than good. Feels better than fantastic.” She gave a deep sigh of contentment. She’d had sex with other men, but it wasn’t like this. This was the first time she and Billy had been able to go all the way. And the feeling of having him inside her, filling her with his sex was like nothing she could ever have imagined. She felt giddy with pleasure and anticipation, ready to explode the moment he moved. 27
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But he didn’t move. He held her tight and kissed her deeply, his tongue teasing her lips, then delving into her mouth, initiating a dance as old as time itself. “You okay?” he murmured. “Fine.” She ran the tip of her tongue around the outside of his ear, then ventured inside, feeling his surprised response as she began to heat things up by rocking herself against him as well. “Wanna play, huh?” he muttered. Gripping her hips firmly, he withdrew his cock, then thrust it hard inside her. He waited for a moment, then he withdrew and thrust hard again. And again, and again, and again, making everything inside her grow tighter and tighter, until she exploded in a flood of sensation that made her scream her joy aloud. “Shush, or you’ll disturb the neighbors.” Billy kissed her mouth and rubbed her back until the fantastic feeling had dissipated. Then, still holding her, he set her down on her feet. She pressed her face against his chest and listened to his accelerated heartbeat. Remembering something they’d said as kids after a hot session in that farmer’s field, she gave an elaborate sigh and whispered, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” He laughed and tightened his hold on her. “It was better than good.” “You always said that.” “I know. Can’t mess with tradition.” “How did you know I wanted you?” “I told you earlier. The look in your eyes. The way you couldn’t sit still. But I didn’t need to see that to know. I just knew is all.” He let her go and flipped on the light, then picked up their scattered clothing. “I guess I should’ve given you the grand tour before I ripped half your clothes off. Forgive me?” “Only if you promise to do it again.” She grabbed her panties from Billy’s hand, but as she went to put them on, Billy snatched them back 28
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and tucked them in his pocket. He hooked an arm around her waist and brought her hard against his body. “I promise.” “When?” “Whenever you want.” “How about now?” Billy had his shorts and pants in his free hand, leaving him both vulnerable and available. And, after only the tiniest bit of encouragement on Sharon’s part, more than ready to play. As she continued to caress his engorged penis with her hands, she moved in close and ran the tip of her tongue along his lips. She loved the soft groan her kisses produced from somewhere deep inside him. But she loved the tension she could feel building in his body even more. “Well?’ Giving another groan, he grabbed her hand and hustled her down the hallway to his bedroom. “Don’t look. Place is a mess,” he warned. He turned on the bedside lamp and kicked a pile of discarded clothing to one side, then tried to straighten the rumpled bed with his free hand. “But I guarantee the sheets are clean. I changed them yesterday.” Sharon appreciated the fact he was considerate of her comfort, but she didn’t care about the state of the room, clean sheets or anything else. She only had eyes for Billy and the excitement his massive hardon engendered in her. She wanted to feel him moving inside her again. She wanted to feel him touching her with his mouth and his hands the way he used to. Billy opened the zipper on her dress, slid the garment off her body and carefully draped it over the room’s only chair. “Better not take a chance on ruining your beautiful dress,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling her between his knees. He wrapped his arms around her, then, taking her with him, fell back against the pillows. “I’d almost forgotten how good this feels,” he 29
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said after a moment. “Just holding you like this.” “It’s been a long time.” Sharon knew Billy had to have been with other women over the past ten years, the same way she’d been with other men. Because sometimes, at least that’s how it had been for her, mindless sex with a comparative stranger had been the only way to deal with the memories. But none of that mattered now she was back in Billy’s arms. Billy moved her over her onto her back and began stroking the inside of her thighs. Holding her gaze with his, he urged her legs apart. For a tiny moment she heightened the excitement by refusing to give in to his teasing. But her need to feel his touch became too great, and she opened herself to him, emitting a long sigh of delight as his fingers gently stroked her clit, and she felt herself start to melt. “Feel good, lover girl?” “S’marvellous,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “Just don’t stop.” Billy’s sigh whispered across her face, and she felt his lips touch hers. Then his mouth traveled down her neck and concentrated on her breasts. He touched her nipples with his tongue, teasing them to attention. Taking first one nipple, then the other in his mouth, he sucked so hard she felt the shockwaves in her crotch. He moved further down her body, and she held her breath as his tongue caressed her belly and explored her navel. Then he moved lower. The warmth of his breath, combined with the touch of his hands and the incredible feeling she got as the tip of his tongue explored her clit, brought old memories surging back. Suddenly, she was a teenager again, making out in the long grass of a farmer’s field on the outskirts of town—the one place they’d been able to indulge their needs undisturbed. The place where Billy had shown her there were alternatives to “going all the way”. Clever little tricks with his hands and tongue that had left her starry-eyed and satisfied for days. 30
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Billy was taking her closer and closer to the edge. She felt the start of an orgasm, but before it could take hold, she escaped Billy’s embrace and pushed him over onto his back. Settling herself between his knees, she took his cock in both hands, thrilled to feel it grow exactly the way she remembered as she ran her hands up and down its length. She swirled her tongue back and forth and around the head. “Feel good?” she asked, watching the play of emotions across Billy’s handsome face. He gulped in a breath, fighting to hang on to his control. “S’great.” She continued to lick and stroke him and play with his balls, surprised by his restraint. In the old days, he’d never lasted more than a few seconds once they got to this part in the plot. She kissed him again, loving the familiar smell of him and the silky feel of his skin as she rubbed his cock against her cheeks and against her breasts. Taking him into her mouth, she sucked hard a few times, then paused. “That what you want?” she asked with a soft chuckle. Instead of replying, Billy’s fingers threaded through her hair, holding her in place and telling her without words exactly what he wanted. She sucked him again, gradually increasing her efforts until she felt his muscles tense and knew he was about to come. He’d never come in her mouth before, and she wondered if he would now. But before that could happen, he withdrew and moved her over onto her back. “My turn now,” he said, a faint smile on his full lips and his dark eyes half-closed as she opened her legs for him. But instead of taking her hard and fast the way she’d expected, he opened her labia and sucked hard on her clit first. When he was satisfied she was ready, he pulled back and inserted the tip of his penis into her slippery, welcoming heat, pushed in partway, then withdrew. Sharon was on fire, desperately in need of release. She loved the anticipation, but she hated the wait. Unable to keep still, she bucked against him and clutched at the sheets. “Please!” she groaned. “Will 31
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you please—” Billy chuckled softly. “Patience, lover girl.” Holding her bottom with both hands, he pushed in again, gradually increasing the speed of his strokes, until all she could think about was Billy and the fact they were together like this. She wrapped her arms and legs around his body, feeling herself getting tighter and tighter as Billy took them closer and closer to the release they both craved. For a second, she thought it wouldn’t happen, but then they were there, caught up in something that made everything she’d heard about a tsunami sound like a summer breeze. “Love you, babe,” he whispered, holding her close while their heartbeats and their breathing settled down. “It’s so good to have you here with me like this.” “Love you, too,” Sharon whispered back. She hesitated, for a moment, then she pulled free of Billy’s arms and reversed positions so she was straddling his body. She regarded him thoughtfully. “But I still don’t understand.” He reached up and began stroking her breasts, frowning when her nipples jumped to attention. “Understand what?” She slapped his hands away and tried to ignore the slow burn he’d started between her legs. “I know what you said earlier. But if you truly love me, didn’t it occur to you that just maybe I felt the same way?” Holding her gaze, his hands moved lower. Down over her belly, then his fingers parted her bush and slipped inside. Between his sexy body, the hot look in his eyes, and the fact his cock was up and ready to go again, she wanted to impale herself on it and ride him until he begged for mercy. Billy Duval was sex incarnate, and she’d never get enough of him. But right now she wanted answers. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed his wrists, halting his explorations. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.” He laughed as he pulled free of her grasp, then lifted her slightly so 32
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he could slide a finger up inside her. “You like that?” She tried for a glare that turned into a groan. “No.” He added a second finger and Sharon held her breath. So long as neither of them moved, she’d be fine… But Billy’s talented fingers had no intention of staying still and within seconds he had her gasping and bucking, in the throes of an orgasm she hoped would never stop. As it started to recede Billy lifted her higher, replacing his fingers with his cock. This time he rode her the way she wanted, hard and fast until the world and everything in it disappeared and there was just her and Billy, locked in each other’s arms. Sharon didn’t remember falling asleep, but when she woke up, Billy still had his arms around her and the clock on the cardboard box that served as his bedside table showed it to be almost two in the morning. To her surprise, Billy was wide awake. “If you want to get dressed, I’ll take you back to the hotel,” he said, yawning as he pushed back the covers. The night was cool and Sharon pulled the covers up again. “You throwing me out?” “No.” He leaned over and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. “But maybe I should. In fact, I shouldn’t have brought you here. I shouldn’t have come looking for you down at the creek either.” “Want to tell me why?” “Because I’m no good for you, lover girl, that’s why. I’m an ex-con with a nose for trouble, working for a business that may not exist six months from now. You don’t need someone like me messing up your nice tidy life.” Sharon cupped Billy’s face in her hands, aware he needed a shave but loving the rasp of his whiskers against her fingers. “Feeling a little sorry for ourselves, are we?” “Nope. Just trying to be a gentleman and preserve your good 33
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name.” She frowned. “What’s my good name got to do with anything?” He gave her a wry smile. “Because right now I guarantee it’s in question. You were born and brought up in Jacob’s Corners. Everyone there knows you, they knew your parents, and they know you’re back in town for Marie’s wedding. That means they also know what time you left the hotel last night and who you left with. And if you don’t get back to the hotel until morning…” “I can expect to get myself talked about?” Sharon finished, feeling a tiny rush of annoyance. After the anonymity of living in big cities, where she rarely had anything to do with her neighbors and sometimes didn’t even know their names, she’d forgotten how the thinking in small, country towns often tended to be more in tune with the Middle Ages than the twenty-first century. “Come on, Billy! I know there are people in Jacob’s Corners who’ve always made it their business to gossip and criticize, but so what? I can’t imagine any of them waiting up to see what time I get back.” “Some will because they have nothing better to do. And others may if they happen to remember you and I were once an item.” “That was years ago.” “And memories are long in small towns. Let’s not give them anything to talk about, okay?” Sharon knew what Billy said was true, but it put a damper on what had otherwise been a wonderful evening. She sighed and reached for her clothes. As far as she was concerned, the people of Jacob’s Corners could gossip about her to their hearts’ content. She didn’t live there anymore. And she wasn’t planning on returning any time soon. She and Billy were just old friends who’d spent the evening together, re-living old times. Nothing more, and nothing less. Anyway, she wouldn’t see much of him for the rest of her stay here. Tomorrow, or rather later today, she would attend the wedding 34
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rehearsal and the dinner for the bridal party. Tomorrow, she’d see Billy at the wedding, but as maid-of-honor, she’d be spending most of the day in the company of the best man. The day after that, she was booked on an early morning flight back to L.A., and her chances of ever seeing Billy again were less than pretty slim. She sneaked a glance at him as he tucked in his shirt and zipped up his pants. She wasn’t afraid to admit she loved Billy. She’d probably always love him. And she intended to spend every possible minute with him that she could while she was here. But Billy hadn’t needed to tell her he was no good for her. She already knew that. He was impulsive and irresponsible. Trouble with a capital T. Not the kind of man any woman with even a grain of commonsense would consider planning her future around, no matter how good the sex. *
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The following morning, Sharon was awakened by a call from a friend in L.A. who was taking care of her cat during her absence. “What’s up, Pierre?” she asked. “Muff giving you a bad time?” “He wouldn’t eat the lunch I made him yesterday, or his dinner,” he said in an aggrieved tone. “Best quality calf’s liver sautéed lightly in unsalted butter. Food fit for a king, but that ungrateful cat turned his nose up. I think he must be sick.” Sharon smiled to herself at the mental picture she had of Pierre’s ongoing battle with her stubborn cat on the subject of food. Pierre, chef extraordinaire, who’d once owned his own restaurant, had been trying for months to impress Muff with his culinary talents, but, despite his best efforts, Muff steadily refused to eat anything that didn’t come out of a can—preferably a can with a picture of a cat on it. “Don’t worry. Muff isn’t sick, he just wants his canned food.” “Canned cat food is disgusting.” “I agree. But try and convince Muff of that.” Pierre emitted a long suffering sigh and then changed the subject. 35
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“Are you having a nice time?” “Nice enough. I had dinner last night with an old friend I haven’t seen in years.” “In a restaurant?” “The place where he works. He’s in some kind of partnership with the owner.” “And the food was good?” “Actually, it was. It’s a lovely place. Great atmosphere, and a great location at the edge of the lake. But from what my friend said, the place is not doing so well.” “Why? What’s wrong?” “I’m not sure exactly. Something to do with lack of experience on the part of the owner and a shortage of money. Whatever it is, I hope they can fix it. It’ll be a real shame if it does go under.” “Too bad this restaurant is so far away. It sounds intriguing.” Sharon laughed. “I thought you’d had enough of the restaurant business.” “I have. ” He sighed. “It’s that damned cat of yours refusing to eat my food. It makes me feel inferior. Makes me feel like I have to prove myself all over again.” After saying goodbye to Pierre, Sharon tried to go back to sleep, but she’d barely turned over and closed her eyes when the phone rang again. She grabbed the receiver. “’lo,” she muttered, trying to push the hair out of her eyes and find her watch all at the same time. “Did you and my brother have a nice time last night?” Marie’s familiar husky voice inquired. Sharon sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “How did you know I was out with Billy?” “Town telegraph.” Marie gave a delighted chuckle. “You guys have fun?” 36
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“He took me out for dinner, and after we ate we danced for a bit.” “And then?” “He brought me back to the hotel.” “Really? Straight back to the hotel?” Sharon considered lying, but this was Marie. Her best friend since forever. “Not exactly. We made one little detour.” “But you had a good time?” “It was great.” “Good. Want to come over to the house for breakfast and tell me all about it? We have a final fitting for our dresses scheduled for eleven. And Mom’s made appointments after lunch for us to have manicures and pedicures.” For Sharon, the rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of prewedding activities, and catching up with old friends and acquaintances. The rehearsal at the local church went off without a hitch, and the buffet dinner at the golf club, instead of being a bore, turned out to be relaxing and fun. Although Billy was to be one of the ushers, he’d told Marie he couldn’t attend the rehearsal because he had to work, but with a little luck, he would make the dinner. Sharon found herself constantly glancing at the door each time someone came into the room or went out. But when the waiters started gathering up the dessert plates and serving coffee and there was still no sign of Billy, she decided the excuse he was working was simply an excuse and he’d chickened out. But then, a moment later, the door was flung open and Billy, dressed in a navy suit and tie, hustled in with an armful of flowers, half of which he deposited on his sister’s lap, and the other half on his mom’s. Ignoring Sharon, he gave his mom a hug, and said to the room at large, “Sorry I’m late. I got held up. But I hope you guys left me something to eat.” 37
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While one of the waiters went off in search of food for Billy, another lowered the lights, and the DJ who’d been hired for the evening started the music. For some reason Billy was still ignoring her. Sharon wasn’t sure why, and there was no one she could ask, so she danced with the bridegroom’s friend, Don, who was to be the best man, and listened to him talk about the twin difficulties of marriage and fatherhood. Apparently Don had married a year ago and his wife, Ann, had given birth just last week to a daughter. Unfortunately, there had been a few problems with the birth, so Ann had opted to stay home and leave Don to attend the wedding alone. After a few more complaints about the difficulties of pregnancy, fatherhood and what a man had to put up with, Don took taken advantage of the dim light to let his hands slip down to Sharon’s buttocks and rub himself against her crotch. It was clear Don was horny and that he’d had too much to drink, but when he began steering her over to the French windows with the suggestion they go outside for a breath of fresh air, Sharon felt a flutter of panic. She couldn’t cause a fuss which could spoil Marie’s wedding. And she couldn’t depend on the fresh air bringing Don to his senses. When she had a problem like this on a flight with a male passenger, there were always other crew members there to help. “Hey, Don! Jack’s looking for you.” The sound of Billy’s voice made Don freeze, and Sharon sigh with relief. “He’s over there.” Billy pointed vaguely across the room. “Some detail about tomorrow’s ceremony, I think.” “Oh, sure. Where over there?” “By the door,” Billy said. “At least he was a moment ago.” As Don released Sharon and moved away, Billy’s arms wrapped around her, and she gave a second sigh of relief. “Was Jack really looking for him?” 38
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“No idea. But I saw what the creep was doing to you.” “How? It’s pretty dark in here.” “Not too dark for me to see your face.” He snuggled her closer. “Reminded me of the time when Jimmy Bates tried groping you at our school prom.” Sharon looked up and wound her arms around Billy’s neck. “I seem to recall you stepped in and put a stop to his antics, too.” “Damn straight. Regular party pooper, me.” “So how come you’ve you been ignoring me tonight?” “Because Mom and Marie know we went out together last night. And I don’t want them getting any stupid ideas about us.” “What ideas?” “You know. Like you and me getting married.” When she was a teenager, marrying Billy Duval was all Sharon could think of. Her whole life had revolved around some hazy point way off in the future when Billy and me are old enough to get married. If she was honest, she still found the idea attractive. But that was because she knew it could never become reality. No matter how much she loved Billy, she had more sense than to put her future in the hands of an ex-con with an affinity for trouble and a future that consisted of little more than a question mark. At the moment he had a good job, but if the restaurant failed… “Come on, Billy. Just because Marie’s decided to settle down, it doesn’t mean they’re trying to marry you off, too.” “Maybe not. But if they are, they’re in for a big disappointment.” The look that accompanied his words was typical Billy—the same impossible mixture of bravado, defiance, anger, regret, confusion and hurt plus a slight narrowing of his eyes that Sharon had seen a thousand times before whenever he was in trouble or out of his depth—a look that dared her to try talking him out of whatever corner he’d backed himself into. 39
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She knew better than to argue about anything with Billy in his present mood. He needed to accept the things he couldn’t change, stop feeling sorry for himself, and get on with his life. But telling him that would only make things worse. He had to figure all that out for himself. Instead, she tried to lighten his mood by moving the conversation in a slightly different direction. “You’re not ready to get married? Or is it that you’re not interested, period?” He shrugged, the narrow-eyed look still firmly in place. “Never really thought about it. What about you? You want to get married someday?” “If the day comes when I meet the right man, I may consider it.” “Well, you’d better watch out where you’re standing when Marie throws her bouquet after the reception tomorrow, or that day may come a whole lot faster than you expected.” Sharon laughed and rested her head against his shoulder. “That’s just a silly tradition. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve caught the bouquet at a couple of weddings and here I am, still unattached and fancy free.” Billy’s arms tightened around her body. “Completely fancy free?” “Almost. But not completely.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I must admit there are times when I fancy you.” “But not enough to marry me.” The words came out somewhere between a whisper and a sigh, but so low Sharon wasn’t sure if they were the product of her imagination or if Billy had actually said them. If he had said them, she didn’t know if they were intended as a statement or a question, and with Billy in his present mood, she was reluctant to spoil things by asking. Instead, she gave herself up to the music and the moment. Slow dancing like this with Billy, feeling the heat of his body, and breathing in his special scent drove commonsense into hiding and made everything seem possible. She felt capable of dealing with anything. But would she still feel like this when the music stopped and the 40
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colored lights were switched off? When Billy found himself in trouble again and the law came knocking at the door? And what if he had no job and they had hungry kids to feed and no money to pay the rent? She quickly put a brake on her runaway thoughts. She had a good job and a great life in L.A., and one of these days she’d meet a nice guy and settle down with him and raise a family. It was okay coming back for a visit, but Billy and Jacob’s Corners were her past. Once the wedding was over, she had to put Billy back in the memory box and move on. But an hour or so and several slow dances later, Sharon had forgotten everything but Billy and the luxury of being here in his arms. She wanted Billy so much she was having trouble with her breathing. And from the way he held her, his erection pressing hard against the middle of her belly, she knew Billy wanted her, too. However, given the circumstances, there wasn’t much chance of anything happening between them tonight. As the party started to break up, Marie came over and asked if Billy could take Sharon back to her hotel. “But no dilly-dallying on the way, you hear,” Marie instructed with a suggestive wink and a smirk that encompassed them both. “It’s late, and we all need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for tomorrow. Right?” “Whatever,” Billy replied, but instead of following his sister’s orders, to Sharon’s delight, a block from the hotel, Billy parked his truck in a dark alleyway, turned off the engine and doused the lights. “C’mere,” he murmured, drawing her into his arms. The kiss began as something soft and gentle, a mere brushing of lips. A kiss Sharon interpreted as a private goodnight before they reached the hotel, where the most they could do would be a quick hug or a kiss on the cheek. But then Billy’s tongue invaded her mouth, and she gave herself up to what could only end in one way. The steering wheel got in the way and so did the gear shift, and she 41
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banged her head not once but twice on the roof of the truck. Then Billy pushed his seat back as far as it would go and with a little careful maneuvering, she wriggled out of her panties and straddled his lap. “Hurry up. Because if we get caught…” She shivered as his cool hands touched her bare thighs. She was wet, she was ready, and she wanted to feel Billy’s magnificent cock sliding up inside her now. “Don’t worry, lover girl, we won’t.” “You can’t be sure of that?” He laughed and began to nuzzle her neck with his mouth. “True. But that’s the best part because the possibility of getting caught really turns you on. Makes you hotter than a firecracker. Right?” She joined in his laughter, feeling like a teenager again. “What gives you that idea?” “Because that’s the way it’s always been with you. The more you worry ’bout getting caught, the hotter and the wetter you get.” “No! Oh, my God!” His fingers had found their way between her legs, and as he began to stroke her clit, she increased her enjoyment by rubbing herself back and forth against his hand. The sound of approaching footsteps made her pause, terrified her fears about being caught were about to be realized. “Want me to stop?” Billy inquired. The footsteps reached the entrance to the alley, and she held her breath, but as they continued on, she released her breath in a soft whoosh. “Don’t even think of stopping! This feels so good.” Billy’s chuckle came from down deep in his chest. “Lift up a bit, so we can both enjoy this.” Although Billy took the time to put on a condom, between the constricted space, the high of doing it in a public place, and the fact they’d both been on the edge for hours, a few thrusts and it was over for both of them. 42
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*
*
*
Marie’s wedding was the kind of glamorous, fairytale event every girl dreams of: a day brimming with happy tears and joyful laughter, a beautiful long, white lace gown, a filmy veil, a handsome groom, organ music, flowers and candles in the church, a lavish reception at the country club, and all the bride and groom’s friends and family there to share the big day. Sharon spent the day, renewing old friendships, reliving old memories, and going from tears to laughter and back again at least a dozen times or more. By the time Marie and her new husband were ready to leave for their honeymoon, Sharon was an emotional wreck. She didn’t have to worry about who would catch Marie’s bouquet, because Marie had decided to forget tradition and place her bouquet of pale pink roses on her dad’s grave. However, Sharon had noticed the thoughtful looks Marie and her mother had been giving her and Billy as the events of the day unfolded. She knew what they were thinking—were maybe even hoping—but thinking and hoping were as far as that particular dream could ever get. After the bride and groom left, the guests soon started to follow suit, and Sharon knew the time was fast approaching when she would have to say goodbye to Billy and Jacob’s Corners and return to her real life. She wondered if Billy would ask her to stay. It wasn’t likely, but who knew? If not, would he give her a long goodbye kiss and wish her well? Or would he back off and disappear the way he’d done all those years ago when she left for college? Did she even want Billy to kiss her goodbye? She hated draggedout farewell scenes. She hated any kind of leave-taking, especially if there was a risk of becoming emotional. Best to just go and send a thank you note later. Thank you for what? Thank you for great sex? Thank you for 43
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breaking my heart one more time? She should have known better than to come back to Jacob’s Corners. The only man she’d ever truly wanted was Billy, and if Billy felt the same way and wanted her to stay, he would have said something by now. He wouldn’t have let all these years go by without a single word. He hadn’t even answered when she asked why he’d stayed silent. And the fact that he hadn’t maybe said it all. She controlled the urge to burst into tears as the object of her thoughts sat down beside her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Mom needs me to drive her home. You want to come with us, or would you prefer to wait for me here?” “Here’s good.” Sharon had already said her farewells to Mrs. Duval and a few other close friends, and now she was feeling more than a little fragile. After all, this was home and these were her people, and she’d cried more in two days than she had in the whole of the past ten years. “Okay. See you in about twenty minutes. Maybe less.” As Billy took off to where his mom was standing by the door, Sharon realized she’d been given an easy way out of her dilemma should she wish to take it. Tomorrow, she needed to be up with the birds to catch an early flight back to L.A. While Billy was taking his Mom home, she could catch a ride back to the hotel with one of the departing guests, leave a message with the desk that she didn’t want to be disturbed, and by the time Billy came looking for her, she’d be long gone. It was sneaky. It was cowardly. It was also the only way she could think of to avoid having her heart broken beyond repair. But before she could put her thoughts into action, Billy came back. “The next door neighbors were just leaving, so Mom got a ride with them.” He sat down beside her again. “You wanna stay? Go? What?” With her escape route closed, Sharon gave an offhand shrug, then 44
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smiled, determined to enjoy whatever time she had left with the man she loved. In a few hours from now, Billy, her best friend’s wedding, her old home town, and everything that had happened over the past couple of days would be nothing but memories. Memories that would soon fade as she returned to the real world and her real life. She explained about the early flight and her need to get some sleep if she hoped to wake up in time, then she said, “What do you want to do?” “Me?” Bill looked thoughtful for a moment, then he traced the outline of her lips with the tip of his finger and smiled. “You mean right now?” She laughed and stilled the movement of his finger by grabbing his hand. “I think right now it’s pretty obvious. But what about tomorrow? The day after that?” “If circumstances were different, and if…” Instead of finishing whatever it was he was going to say, he sighed. “If, if, if. If there weren’t so many damned ifs, life would be a breeze. But there are, so it’s not, and there’s no point talking about it.” “Maybe you need to move away from here. Get a fresh start somewhere else.” “And leave Megan to fend for herself?” He shook his head. “No way. Megan’s been good to me. I couldn’t do that. Anyway, for someone with my history, worthwhile opportunities are few and far between, so I have to make this one work. But don’t worry. Megan and me’ll figure out something.” “Like what? You think you’ll find another winning lottery ticket?” “Who knows? With a little patience, things occasionally do work out the way you want.” “And if they don’t?” He shrugged. “Then the next time you visit could be you’ll find me serving foot-longs at that place on the beach where the kids go.” Sharon had never known Billy to worry about anything, especially 45
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other people’s problems, so his obvious concern for Megan and her restaurant not only made her realize he’d finally grown up, it also made her wonder what was really going on. Maybe things were even worse than he’d said. From everything he’d said, it was clear he was determined to find a solution, and she quickly searched her mind, positive there had to be something she could do to help. Something that he wouldn’t interpret as interference or charity. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt his pride. He’d said Megan hadn’t been able to find an investor, so she could put some of the money her dad had left her to good use by investing in the restaurant as a silent partner. But if the business was only hanging on by a thread, an injection of cash might only delay the inevitable rather than help turn it around. Billy was right. It needed more than money. A drawing card. Something special, or unique that no one else had. A reason to make the journey to the restaurant’s off-the-beaten-track location worthwhile. Sharon knew she couldn’t come up with the kind of money needed to build anything too ambitious in the way of a marina, but between the sale of her dad’s drugstore and a hefty insurance policy, there should be more than enough to renovate the old dock and make it usable. She felt a quick rush of excitement. She knew a couple of Hollywood celebrities who could always be counted on to make a guest appearance if they happened to be in the area. Toronto had become known as Hollywood North because of the growing number of movies being made in and around the area, so she could put word out that the in place to eat was Megan’s restaurant. Nothing like the possibility of seeing a few movie stars to attract a crowd. And after the chat she’d had with her friend, Pierre, yesterday morning, finding a master chef to work for peanuts might not be as difficult as Billy thought. “You okay?” “Fine. Why?” “No reason. You looked a little spacey for a minute, is all.” 46
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“It’s been a long day.” “True.” She hesitated as a waiter came by to clear their table. She waited until the man finished collecting the dishes and left, then she said, “I have an idea.” “About what?” “How to help Megan.” She quickly verbalized what she’d been thinking about fixing up the dock and encouraging visiting celebrities to eat at the restaurant, then she said, “And it just so happens I know this guy who’s a master chef. He’s cooked for presidents, famous movie stars, millionaire businessmen, and just about everyone who’s anyone. He had his own restaurant in L.A. until it got demolished last year in a mudslide—one of those places that costs a month’s salary for lunch and is booked up a year in advance. He had to have been making a fortune, but he says it’s too much trouble to start over. He was born and brought up in Montreal, and he’s always talking about coming back East, so…” The expression on Billy’s face was a mixture of interest laced with caution. “Where did you meet him?” “In L.A. I knew who he was—his face used to be on billboards, but since the mudslide, he’s taken to hanging out in a restaurant near where we both live, and I’ve gotten to know him quite well. Sometimes he helps out when the chef wants a night off, but mostly he just sits around, plays cards with his friends, or goes fishing. He also looks after my cat whenever I’m out of town. I know he’s had several great job offers, and I also know he’s turned them all down. He’s about Megan’s age, much too young to retire, so my curiosity got the better of me one day, and I asked him why. He said he didn’t need the money, he was bored with the rich and famous and wanted something new and challenging.” Billy smiled. “I’m sure we could offer him that. Can you call him? 47
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Feel him out. See whether or not he might be interested?” “Shouldn’t we run it by Megan first?” He checked his watch, then took out his cell phone and started to dial. “Megan should be closing up around now. Hi, Meggy, it’s Billy. Sharon’s come up with a great idea. Could be the answer to all your prayers. However, she has an early morning flight, so— Okay! We’ll be there as quick as we can.” The road to Hamilton was almost devoid of traffic and they made the trip to Megan’s Place in record time. Once she had Megan’s approval, Sharon called Pierre and asked if he was serious about wanting to prove himself again and then went on to explain the situation. It turned out, Pierre had met Megan’s dad a couple of times at food conventions, and with only the tiniest amount of pleading on Sharon’s part, he agreed to do whatever he could to help put Megan’s Place on the map. He said he needed a couple of days to re-arrange his life, ask a neighbor to feed his tropical fish and take care of his plants, and once that was done, he’d be on the first available flight. Billy then called a contractor he knew needed the business and got a ballpark estimate on renovating the dock that was less than Sharon had expected. “Anyone for more coffee?” Megan asked as Billy put down the phone. Billy pushed his cup forward, but Sharon shook her head. “Not for me, thanks. I absolutely must get back to the hotel and grab some sleep, otherwise I’ll miss my flight.” *
*
*
Two months later, Sharon returned to Hamilton for the grand opening of what was now known as MP’s in gold lettering on the glass front door, the cutlery, the crockery, and embroidered in gold thread on the linen napkins. Several boats were tied up at the brand new dock, and the restaurant was full to bursting with international celebrities 48
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rubbing shoulders with local people. The quiet restaurant Billy had brought her to just a short time ago had become a real “happening” place. And if the way Megan and Pierre were looking at each other as they scurried about attending to their guests was anything to go by, Sharon suspected there was something important happening between them, too. Could be MP stood for Megan and Pierre and not Megan’s Place as she’d first assumed. Billy had invited Sharon to spend the night at his house, and on the way there after the restaurant closed, he asked when she would be returning to L.A. “I’m not going back.” He frowned. “You’re not?” “No. The airline’s transferred me back to Toronto.” “For how long?” “For as long as I want.” “Where will you live?” “No idea. Do you have any suggestions?” He didn’t say anything until they reached his house and he’d switched off the car engine. Then he looked at her, a diffident tone in his voice as he said, “I guess you could live here with me. If you’d like to, that is.” “Have you straightened up the mess?” His expression brightened. “’Fraid not. I’ve been too busy working.” “What about furniture?” He smiled, a familiar, slightly evil smile that drove Sharon crazy. A smile that was both sexy and full of promise, and she didn’t need a crystal ball to know how much he wanted her. “I have a bed. A very good bed with a mattress that’s guaranteed for ten years. What else do we need?” 49
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“I’ll need somewhere to put my stuff.” “I have a few boxes you can use for now. Shall we go inside and take a look?” But instead of checking out storage availability, once they were inside the house, Billy lead her straight to his bedroom, where they undressed in the pale light of the moon filtering through the half-closed blinds. When the last item of clothing fluttered to the floor, Billy made love to her—slow, leisurely love that told Sharon how much he cared in ways that words could never express. Afterwards, Billy held her tight and said, “Remember what you asked me the first time I took you to Megan’s restaurant?” “What was that?” “You wanted to know why I’d let all these years go by without getting in touch with you.” “And?” “Apart from the obvious, like not wanting to involve you in my troubles with the law, I guess I’ve always believed that if what we had when we were kids was meant to be…then one day we’d find that out and be given a second chance.” If what we once had was meant to be? Suddenly, Sharon knew everything she’d ever wanted was now within her reach. Billy was no longer a wild, rebellious boy with a total disregard for the law. He hadn’t signed the pledge and become an overnight saint, and she didn’t doubt he’d still bend the rules the odd time, or take a chance if occasion demanded it. But the Billy she once knew had grown up. The way he’d looked after and worried about his friend, Mark’s mother and her business was ample proof of that. “I think what we have now is even better, don’t you?” He stroked her hair. “I think tomorrow we should straighten up this house. Get rid of all the mess.” His fingers left her hair and inched slowly down her body. “And once that’s done, we can go look at new 50
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furniture. Maybe we should get one of those new plasma TVs.” Sharon sat up, turned on the bedside lamp and looked down at the man she loved, wondering if their children would have the same dark hair and blue eyes that he did. If their smiles would melt concrete the way their Dad’s could. “Are you trying to tell me something, Billy Duval?” “I think it’s time we got married. Otherwise, people will start to talk.” She touched his mouth with her fingers, then leaned down and kissed him lovingly. “Good idea, We certainly don’t want people talking about us. Now about that plasma TV…”
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CHRISTIANE FRANCE Christiane truly believes that love makes the world go round, so she likes stories with both happy and bittersweet endings. Christiane has been writing romance for the past twenty years and lives near Niagara Falls with her husband and The Boys—two black and white Persian cats.
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