Always (16 page)

He dunked the mop in a bucket of clean water and bent to wring it out with an efficient movement of his strong hands. "Honey, I learned to work a long time ago. It's not something you forget."

Taking the mop to a corner she'd already scrubbed, he began cleaning the floor. Elinor watched him, dumbfounded. He moved the mop over the scrubbed tiles with a practical economy that said he'd mopped his share of floors.

The whole picture was ludicrous. She only hoped the heavy gold watch at his wrist was waterproof. Not that it would matter to him. Cole never seemed restricted by anxiety about his expensive wardrobe. Elinor supposed that came from being able to purchase the state of Louisiana if the mood struck him.

Finished with the scrubbing, she tossed the brush in her bucket and carried it to the sink. "Did you have some other reason for stopping by this morning? Other than the urge to mop my floor?" she teased.

"No, just that." He grinned as he wrung the mop out for the last corner. "There's something very rewarding about physical labor."

"Don't try that on me," she scoffed, dumping the scrub water. "I'll bet you have an army of servants to clean up after you."

Cole finished the floor and rinsed the mop again. "One housekeeper, El. But when we're married, I'll tell her to leave the kitchen floor for us to do together. Particularly if you'll wear that outfit."

Elinor looked at herself in surprise. Her attire of tank top and shorts wasn't intended for anything but maximum coolness, but she had left off her bra this morning. She felt her nipples hardening beneath Cole's caressing gaze.

"Think how much fun we could have, El." He leaned the mop in a corner. "Just you and me, playing house every day."

"There's more to marriage than that," she retorted, a shiver of anticipation and excitement racing up her spine as he sauntered across the room to where she stood.

“I know," said Cole, his voice husky. "I'm counting on you making my life hell, and making me enjoy it." Cole's hands traced a damp pathway down her bare arms.

"Cole!" She batted his hands away, backing up as he crowded into her space. A few steps brought her up against the counter, pinned by a grinning blue-eyed devil who knew just how to raise her temperature.

"I'm all sweaty and everything," she protested breathlessly moments later as she surfaced from his kiss.

"No, you're not," he disagreed, his hand cupping her taut breast through the stretchy knit tank top. "You're just glowing a little, and I like it."

Biting a tender trail along her shoulder, Cole lifted her top and filled his hands with her breasts. "Mmmm, maybe I'll fire my housekeeper. Housework with you is so stimulating."

Heat and the scent of arousal filled her as Cole took his time fondling her flesh. Elinor clutched his shoulders, her knees buckling.

Feeling her sag, Cole lifted her effortlessly and sat her on the counter. He positioned himself between her dangling legs. "Say you'll marry me, El. I need you."

"To do your floors?" she gasped as his thumb brushed her peaked nipple.

"I'm sure we could work that into the deal," he murmured, pressing himself against her outspread thighs. "But I'm negotiable on the details as long as you'll marry me, be the mother of my children, and love me forever."

"Ohhh," Elinor moaned unintelligibly, her mind as stirred up as her body.

"What do you say, El?"

"I say, you don't play fair," she accused, straining toward the movement of his hands.

"Not when the game's this important," Cole admitted, bending to kiss her again.

"Have I mentioned," Elinor said in a strained voice as he reached for the button at the waist of her shorts, "that I'm expecting Daisy at any time? Cole?"

He lifted his head, his passion-filled eyes the color of storm clouds. "Daisy?"

"Uh huh." She nodded reluctantly. "Anytime now. She's coming to finalize some things about the Peach Festival."

"Peach Festival," he repeated, his voice heavy as he slowly drew his hands from under her shirt.

"It starts tonight," she told him, as disappointed and frustrated as he was that they didn't have the opportunity to finish what he'd started.

"Oh, yeah." Cole levered himself away from her, leaning against the counter as he struggled to cool down. "I remember hearing something about it. A weekend celebration in the park?"

"Yes." Elinor jumped down from the countertop. "Daisy's on the committee every year and she always manages to rope me into helping." She straightened her tank top, aware of Cole's eyes fastened on her with an arousing intensity.

He sighed. "It's probably better that we finish this later." He smiled at her crookedly, laughter in his eyes at his own physical predicament. "I'm supposed to be at the closing for the Lanier place in five minutes. I should have known better than to stop by here first."

When he was gone a few minutes later, his affluent businessman look restored Elinor found herself staring at the floor he'd mopped a bemused feeling in her chest. Suddenly, she could see herself married to him, the mother of his children. Loving him forever.

Maybe it was time she listened to her heart and put the past behind her. How long could she hold Cole responsible for the failures of her father and grandfather?

Looking out the kitchen window, she saw the hazy bulk of Oakleigh through the trees. She'd come back to Bayville to find her roots, hoping to find a place to belong. But now that her grandfather was dead, all she had of her past was a beautiful, desolate house.

Oakleigh was hers, Daniel's attorney had assured her. Her grandfather hadn't had anything else to pass on to her but the house that had symbolized so much of the pain in her childhood.

It didn't carry those memories now. Now the house would always stand in her mind as a place of loving and passion. She had found ecstasy there, locked in Cole's arms. And that was what brought a pang to her heart as she faced the inevitable.

She had to sell the house. The back taxes could be paid off with her savings, but she couldn't afford to restore it. And she had to set up a pension for Charlie. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't.

And she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she let her past drive Cole away.

"Yoo hoo!" Daisy's voice floated down the hall from the front. "Anyone home?"

"I'm in the kitchen," Elinor answered, her thoughts clearing as she made a decision.

"Hi, there." Her friend stood in the doorway surveying the kitchen. "You've been busy this morning."

"Yes, I have." Elinor dried her hands on a towel.

"Good," Daisy commented. "Let's go in your office and get some of these last-minute things worked out for the festival."

"In a minute, Daisy." She crossed the kitchen. "I have a phone call I need to make."

Her fingers trembled as Elinor punched in the number. Even when she knew it had to be done, letting go of the past was scary.

The phone rang two times before a man's voice said, "Ace Realty."

She took a deep breath. "This is Elinor Prescott, Mr. Brinkman. I'm ready to sign."

~~~********~~~

Nine

"Just sign these pages, Ms. Prescott, and initial those."

Elinor wrote her name neatly beside each X, a feeling of liberation humming through her. Selling Oakleigh to settle her grandfather's debts was a symbolic way of cutting her ties. She didn't need to hang on to her fears of Cole being corrupted by his money. She had decided to put her faith in him. He'd never failed her yet.

Still, she felt surprisingly regretful to give up the beautiful old house where so many of her ancestors had lived and died.

"Wonderful," Mr. Brinkman oozed, his smile gleeful. "I'm sure it's a relief to get this white elephant off your hands."

"Not exactly," Elinor said dryly. "But we did need to get this matter settled."

"Oh, yes," the realtor leered at her. "A good-looking woman such as yourself doesn't need to be burdened with a huge old house."

Elinor couldn't find a reply to that, so she just put away her pen, preparing to leave.

"Say ..."

She went still when Mr. Brinkman's hand coasted over her shoulder.

"I don't suppose you'd be available for a late lunch, would you, honey?"

Amazing,
she thought,
how the same endearment can sound so different from two completely dissimilar men.

"No," Elinor said crisply as she stood up, careful to move out of his range, "I'm afraid I'm not available at all."

Later that evening, tiny white lights were strung in the pines and magnolias that dotted the Boeuf River Park on the outskirts of Bayville. Children ran wild on the sloping riverbank, dabbling their bare feet at the water's edge until their parents called to them.

At this hour, the sound of chirping insects filled the sultry air, and an occasional high-pitched whine could be heard as mosquitoes reconnoitered their victims.

Humming to herself, Elinor walked through the people as the setting sun left shivery purple ripples on the river's surface. More than anything, the annual Bayville Peach Festival was an opportunity for the town to get together and throw a party. And if a few tourists came along, all the better.

The smells of river dampness mingled with the smoky rush of cooking meat to create the fragrance of excitement. The exact combination always conjured up memories of the festival itself.

Circling a group of teenage boys, Elinor heard several long, drawn-out wolf whistles as she passed by, the milkmaid outfit, she knew. Responding to their high spirits with a playful shake of her head, she turned down the avenue of booths set up for the event.

She was so excited about seeing Cole that she felt almost giddy. He'd left a message on her voicemail that afternoon saying he'd meet her at the Ladies' Guild booth around eight.

Daydreaming the hours away, she'd imagined how his eyes would darken into blue velvet when she finally gave an answer to his proposal. The only thing she hadn't figured out was how she'd convince him to wait long enough to get married in the little church here in Bayville, rather than flying to Las Vegas.

Even wearing the milkmaid outfit for the Ladies' Guild booth couldn't dampen her mood.

Mrs. Wilmington, bless her heart, had quite a sense of humor. When Elinor opened the box and saw the dress she was to wear while working at the ice cream booth, her jaw had dropped.

The blue cotton material of the underdress was demure enough, but the snug fit of the bodice combined with a low cut neckline left little to the imagination. The skirt itself was full and very short. Elinor had stood in front of her mirror, gaping when the whole outfit was in place.

With the tiny waistline and full skirt, the dress was very flattering. She felt herself growing warm just thinking about Cole's reaction when he saw her in it. The little puffed sleeves sat perkily on her arms in defiance of gravity, because there were no shoulders to speak of, the scooped neck left the upper slope of her breasts bare almost past the point of decency. Even the tiny white apronlike pinafore didn't diminish the overall seductive effect.

Elinor had found herself laughing as she pinned on the little white cap that matched the apron. She couldn't imagine a milkmaid wearing this outfit unless she was planning to milk something other than cows.

Where had Mrs. Wilmington found these garments? The possibilities were so at odds with the woman's proper image that they boggled the mind.

But the thought that had tickled Elinor all the way to the festival was Daisy's reaction. If the milkmaid outfit was a requirement of all the women working the Ladies' Guild booth, Daisy would also be inflicted with one. This seemed only fair since she was the one who'd gotten Elinor into the situation in the first place.

The ice cream booth was situated on the avenue, some distance from the river. As she approached, Elinor could see a small, rotund woman of fifty behind the counter serving ice cream to two eager youngsters. She stifled a laugh when she recognized the minister's wife, a shawl knotted awkwardly over her provocative milkmaid outfit.

Mrs. Wilmington must have had it in for some of these ladies.

Entering the back of the booth, Elinor tucked her things down under the counter and started serving the clamoring customers. The Ladies' Guild always put up an attractive booth of white lattice walls with silk flowers woven in. Behind the serving counter stood a chest freezer loaded with homemade peach ice cream.

Within minutes, Daisy arrived to relieve the minister's wife. Relief was the operative word Elinor acknowledged after having watched the woman adjusting her bosom-protecting shawl a dozen times.

When the embarrassed woman hurried away, Elinor turned to her friend. "Hi there, fellow milkmaid. Feel like you ought to be doing a number from
Gypsy
? "

Daisy giggled glancing down at her trim figure. "No. I feel like I ought to be standing on a street corner. What on earth could that woman be thinking of when she bought these?"

Elinor paused in the middle of tasting a spoonful of ice cream. "I don't know, but my theory is that she didn't win the presidency of the guild last year and this is her revenge."

Choking back a laugh, Daisy handed bowls of ice cream to a teenage couple. Behind them were three elderly ladies. And then the rush was on. Elinor and Daisy found themselves scurrying around the booth filling orders with no chance to think, much less talk.

Half an hour later, they'd emptied six laige ice cream containers and broken open the second case of disposable bowls before there was a lull in business.

"Whew!" Elinor sat down on a folding chair. "Who would've believed that so many people liked peach ice cream?"

"This is a peach festival," Daisy said, fanning herself with a paper plate. They sat in silence, catching their breath as they watched the passing crowd.

"Hey, did you get the contract stuff done on Oakleigh?" Daisy asked when Elinor had gotten up to serve a small boy.

Elinor sank back into her chair. "Yes. All taken care of."