Distracted (15 page)

“Just like painting,” he said. He tossed the tube
aside and started rubbing the lotion into her skin, gently
massaging the sides of her breasts. “There’s a lot more to painting
than you know. I have to spend hours just watching the light as it
changes. Just like the hours you spend correcting the commas in
somebody’s manuscript. It’s a work in progress.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way. Tell me
more.”

“Does this count towards that hour?”

“Oh come on, do you think this is work? I’m a captive
here. I can’t even scratch my nose.”

“Here, let me.” Spence rubbed greasy fingers on her
nose, leaving a glob of lotion in his wake.

“Yeah, thanks. That helps.”

It was hard to be flippant, though, with his fingers
working magic on her skin, caressing her breasts, tickling her
ribs. With his free hand, he fiddled at the button on her shorts
and pulled down the short zipper. “Good. These are easy.”

He tugged her shorts down her hips and tossed them on
the floor. “Pretty,” he said, admiring her panties.

“They better be; they’re expensive for such a scrap
of material.”

“It looks like an eye patch. Can I borrow them?”

Erin laughed at the image of Spence, a pair of her
fancy thong panties rakishly covering one eye.

“Whatever wags your tail.”

“What does that mean?”

“A happy puppy wags its tail. If it makes you happy,
do it.”

“Thanks, ma’am. Think I will.”

With that, Spence proceeded to kiss and lick Erin’s
belly and the inside of her thighs. His hand continued to caress
her breasts. Soon she was dragging her hands through his hair,
craving his touch. Within minutes she was gasping for air as wave
after wave of ecstasy raced through her. She pushed him away and
rolled to her side, squeezing her knees together.

“Go away,” she said, covering her eyes with her
hands.

“Baby, did I hurt you?”

“No, no. I’m just so embarrassed. Spence, how am I
supposed to work with you when you do this to me? I feel so
exposed. You’re everywhere; you’re inside me. Can’t you see how
difficult all this is?”

“Sure I do. You turn me inside out and then you want
to write about it. How is that not supposed to embarrass me?”

Erin uncovered her eyes. Spence’s head was turned
away, his jaw clenching. She reached out to stroke his cheek,
softening it with her gentle touch.

He turned and buried his face in her neck. Then he
scooped her into his lap and rocked her back and forth. She
wondered: Who is he comforting?

* * *

“How’s it going? You two making any progress?” Mariah
asked when Erin returned to the farmhouse a week later to do some
laundry.

She grimaced as she packed more clothes into the
washing machine. She sprinkled powdered detergent into the cavity,
closed the door and turned the knob. Leaning against the machine,
she turned back to her sister.

“That’s a good question.”

“Well?”

Erin flashed a grin at Mariah, and looked away. It
was a guilty reaction that Mariah recognized from their
childhood.

“I appreciate your hospitality. I know I said it was
going to be all work and no play. I meant it, too. That’s why I
made him come here. I thought that if I had him on my own turf, I
could control him. Keep him on task and get some chapters
written.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I don’t think I can control him at all.”

“Is that so bad?”

Erin snorted and laughed.

“Yes, it is actually. I can’t even control myself. I
can’t keep my pants on around him.”

Now it was Mariah’s turn to laugh. Her sister, always
so competent, had lost the upper hand.

“Yikes; you’ve got a big problem.”

“I can handle it.”

“I could too, if I weren’t a married woman.”

Erin laughed and whacked her sister with a dish
towel.

“Go jump Jerry’s bones. I’ll take care of
Spence.”

“Don’t think I haven’t been. You’re my
inspiration.”

* * *

Erin and Spence were floating on the lake, a white
rope connecting their inner tubes to a cooler of chilled beer.
Erin’s hand dangled lazily in the water; the other tipped the beer
to her lips. Corona with a lime.

“This is heavenly.”

Spence squinted one eye, the other covered with a
pair of her panties.

“You idiot.” She laughed. It felt so nice to be
relaxing in the sun, this stunning man beside her, making jokes for
her pleasure. “You are such a goof. What if Ben sees you?”

“Arr, matey. I’m sure the lad knows what an eye patch
is.”

Spence had been on his pirate kick for the past hour,
and together they had worked their way through a six pack. She
thought of pirates and Tortuga and, for a second, swore she could
smell peach juice.

“You know, you could pay me to work for you and we
could do this all the time,” she quipped.

“Maybe I will.”

Erin backpedaled. “I’m just kidding.”

“Maybe I’m not.”

“Do you ever intend to write this book?”

He raised his “eye patch” but didn’t answer.

“I’m just asking. Because ethically, if you’re not, I
have to let the publisher know. I have a responsibility. I’ve never
missed a deadline.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Even in high school? On your student newspaper?”

“How did you know I worked on the newspaper?”

“Darlin’, I know you. You were probably an editor
then, too.”

Erin stuck out her bottom lip. “Smarty pants.” She
kicked the water, splashing him in the face.

* * *

By the end of their second week in Pennsylvania, Erin
and Spence had given up any pretense of working. They stayed at the
cabin, rising later each morning, eating in bed, lounging in the
hammock and swimming in the lake. After dinner they sat around,
toothpicks in their mouths, and played Texas Hold ‘Em. Sometimes
they played strip poker, but only after they put on several layers
of clothing. They didn’t want to lose too quickly.

Time meant little; the days ticked off like seconds
on a clock. One evening, they were sitting around the Formica
dining table. Erin wore three shirts and a pair of shorts over a
pair of pants. Beneath that, she wore her bathing suit. Spence was
down to a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. He still had his socks and
shoes, his eyepatch, and a faded ball cap pulled low to hide his
poker face.

Jerry knocked on the screen door. “You guys decent?”
he called.

Startled, their eyes met. They never had visitors to
the cabin. Sometimes they imagined they were alone in the world;
the only other signs of life were miniature people sailing
miniature boats across the lake.

Spence opened the door. Jerry looked at him, then at
Erin.

“You guys cold out here? There’s a radiant heater in
the attic.”

“No. Not at all. We’re playing strip poker,” Erin
said.

Jerry nodded as if he understood. “Okay, well, you’ve
got a phone call. Your sister said I should come and get you. He’ll
be calling back in twenty minutes.”

“Who?”

Straight-faced, Jerry didn’t respond.

“Who’s calling back, Jerry?”

He turned and shuffled towards the door.

“Aidan.”

Erin looked at Spence. “I wonder why he didn’t call
on my cell phone?”

Spence sat down and started shuffling the cards. He
didn’t seem to react at all except to say, “Hurry back. I’m
winning.”

Erin kissed him tenderly. “No you’re not.” She called
out to Jerry, “Hold up. I’m coming.”

The beam from Jerry’s flashlight lit the path to the
farmhouse. Erin walked beside him and wondered aloud, “Did he say
what he wanted?”

“Nope. I didn’t talk to him. Ben did. Said your cell
phone wasn’t working.”

Erin frowned. Had she forgotten to charge her phone?
How long had it been since she had used it last? In fact, what day
was it? Then she remembered blocking calls from Aidan. She hadn’t
talked to him for at least two months.

“Man, I’ve been out of it.”

Jerry smiled at his young sister-in-law and patted
her on the back. “Having fun, are you?”

“More than I deserve, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You’ve always worked
hard. It’s time for you to play a little. And after what that ass
did, well, who could blame you?”

“Jerry. It’s more complicated than that. Spence is my
job. I’m supposed to be working here. So far today we’ve written
six words. How am I supposed to explain this to his publisher? She
will never hire me again.”

“Tell ‘em it’s a conflict of interest. Tell ‘em
you’ve fallen in love.”

“Jerry, are you crazy? I’m not in love.”

“You got us fooled. I guess you’re even fooling
yourself. If you’re not working, and you’re not in love, then what
are you doing with that guy? Sorry, honey, from the top of the
hill, it looks like love.”

Erin bit her lip. Why couldn’t she admit that she had
fallen in love? Because he doesn’t love me. She was afraid to think
about it. They walked the rest of the way to the farmhouse in
silence, Jerry’s words a nagging echo.

Ben was standing at the kitchen door, his hand
against the telephone receiver.

“Aunt Erin, its Aidan. He sounds mad.”

“Thanks, Ben.” Erin took the telephone. “Hello?
Aidan? What’s wrong?”

* * *

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling your cell
phone for months and all I get is your message.”

Erin avoided his question. “Aidan, what’s wrong? What
do you want?”

“Your publisher called. She’s been trying to reach
you also. Said you’re not where you’re supposed to be. She has no
idea where your client is, either. She’s frantic and on the verge
of calling the police. I didn’t know who else to call. Are you
okay?”

“Of course I am, Aidan. I’m fine. I’m sorry, I’ve
been here with the family and I’ve forgotten to charge my cell
phone. I’ll plug it in tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Patricia.
Thanks for calling. Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, now that you mention it. Who’s this client
she’s talking about? And why are you at the farm?”

Erin debated answering him. Finally, she drew a deep
breath and said, “Aidan, it’s really none of your business. We’re
not married anymore. Remember? You have your life, I have
mine.”

“What are you talking about? You know I love
you.”

Erin glanced around the room, afraid that Ben would
hear their conversation. She was alone.

“Now listen to me. We don’t have that kind of
relationship anymore. Yes, a few times we did, but we were lonely.
I explained that to you. You moved on. Don’t you expect me to?”

“That’s been over a long time.”

“You mean she left you.”

“That makes you happy, doesn’t it? Yes, she left me.
Go ahead, gloat.”

Erin wanted to, but realized she couldn’t care
less.

“Aidan, I’ve got to go,” she said and hung up. She
reflected on the fact that she was able to be flippant and
disinterested in Aidan and knew it was because of Spence.

Erin borrowed Jerry’s flashlight and headed back to
the cabin. Spence was asleep, one of her Jane Austen paperbacks on
his stomach. She realized she was still wearing several layers of
shirts and pants and sweat beaded on her upper lip. Spence’s “eye
patch,” which counted for one item of clothing, was pushed up on
his forehead. He snored softly.

“God, you take my breath away,” she whispered.

She went into the bathroom and plugged her cell phone
into a wall socket. The screen lit up. Sixteen missed calls from
Patricia and at least two dozen from Aidan. Shoot. She tabbed her
way through her address book until she found Patricia McDowell’s
home phone number. She pressed dial, then put the tiny phone to her
ear.

“McDowell. Who’s calling?”

“Patricia? It’s me, Erin Andersen. I’m sorry to call
so late….”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been visiting my family and I don’t
want to disturb them with this phone call.”

“Erin. I’m disappointed. Why haven’t you called me
before now? And where is Stephen Spence? The man has fallen off the
face of the earth. I tell you, I’m about ready to file a missing
person report.”

“He’s with me. Honestly, Patricia, I’m sorry I didn’t
tell you. I thought it would be best to keep his whereabouts quiet.
You see, we couldn’t work at his house. I thought that if I could
take him away from the familiar, he wouldn’t be so distracted. I
thought I could keep him under control.”

“And how’s that working for you?” Patricia asked
dryly.

Miserably, Erin admitted it wasn’t. “I’ve never had
this problem before. I can’t get him to work. Or myself.” She
giggled hysterically. “It’s like we’re on this wild vacation and I
can’t stop.”

She ran out of breath. “I can’t stop,” she
repeated.

There was a long silence.

“Patricia? Are you there?”

“Yes, Erin.”

Again, silence.

“Say something, Patricia. Yell at me. Shake me out of
this dream.”

“Erin. Are you telling me that you’re sleeping with
your client?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“Have you fallen in love with your client?”

“Yes,” she was crying now.

“Erin. This is impossible. I thought that of all the
editors I have on retainer that you could handle this job. For
God’s sake, girl, he’s only a man.”

“Oh, I know that,” Erin moaned.

“Snap out of it,” Patricia barked. “Now you listen to
me. You don’t stand a chance against someone like him. It’s obvious
to me now. I thought that you were still heartbroken over that
idiot husband of yours. I should have known better. Stephen Spence
is handsome and rich, I know. But he’s also a playboy. You’ve seen
the magazines. You know what kind of women he dates. Are you one of
those women?”