Divine Solace: 8 (3 page)

He didn’t seem offended. “Mrs. Winterman said I could check
out her new garden additions, to get ideas for the nursery. I think she was
trying to get rid of me while she and my…Ms. Coltrane talked.

“Oh. Okay.”

“I…work for Lyda,” he supplied. “When not doing the sailing.”

She noted the pause, as if the answer wasn’t as
straightforward as that, but he’d moved on to introductions. “I’m Noah. Can I
help you carry that?”

“Gen. Pleasure to meet you. No, I sealed it this time. We
could dropkick it back to the kitchen if needed. In my own defense, I wasn’t
expecting a tree to spring up right in front of the door.”

When she earned another easygoing grin, she couldn’t help
but note he was
really
handsome. It wasn’t exactly his looks, which were
a ten on any scale, but what lay beneath them, a compelling quality that kept
drawing the eye back to his face, those distracting lips. “Do you know Brendan?
He teaches drama at the college.”

“He helped me get the sailing gig when I moved down here for
my grandmother a few months ago. I came from New Orleans.”

“From New Orleans to Tampa. I can’t imagine. New Orleans
seems so exotic.”

“You guys have Miami and the Keys. Disney World.”

“The first two are a bit of a drive from here. But I’ll give
you Disney World.” As she came out of the storeroom, he reached past her,
closed the door so she didn’t have to do it while balancing the tea. “Did you
meet Brendan in college?”

“No. He was visiting New Orleans a few years back and he and
I met in one of the clubs there. We hit it off, had a lot of common interests.”

A club. And he worked for Lyda. Should she just ask outright
if it was a BDSM club? Chloe would. But she wasn’t Chloe, no matter how she was
trying to channel her. It had been her problem all her life. Always feeling out
of sync, no matter where she ended up. Except Tea Leaves. She fit here. She
didn’t have to prove anything here, be anything she wasn’t.

Noah followed her to the side entrance, apparently
comfortable not saying anything further, which was good, because she wasn’t
sure where to go from there. He held the screen door for her, reaching out to
steady her on the steps. Her nerve endings reacted with tingling pleasure to
the long, strong fingers that briefly gripped her side, brushed her lower back.
As she glanced back at him, she noticed his lips were red, shaped nicely. She
wanted to run a fingertip over them, see what they felt like.

He was on the step right below her, which put them at eye
level, his one arm stretched out to hold the door behind her, the other on the
rail, making their bodies form an intimate circle, one of those inadvertent
things that could happen between two strangers with chemistry. A dark brow
lifted at her pause, and in that moment she reached out and touched his mouth.

It was soft and giving, a potential for wet heat that firmed
under her touch as he parted his lips, let her stroke over them. His sinfully
sweet gaze remained on her the whole time. Unlike Lyda’s, his wasn’t
penetrating. It felt more like he was…waiting.

“I’m sorry,” she said, drawing back. “I’m not sure why I did
that.”

“Because you wanted to,” he said simply. “The best reason to
do anything.”

The only answer to that was retreat. She moved back into Tea
Leaves, cognizant of him following behind her. It really was turning into a
peculiar day.

She put the Ceylon in its proper spot and finished up the
order for six. Marguerite was at Lyda’s table, keeping an eye on the customers
as they spoke. Noah moved into the room, nodding deferentially to Marguerite
and Lyda before he took a seat by the door. The several chairs lined against
the wall there were intended for waiting to-go customers, or for those who
needed an extra seat at their table. When the nearest table of customers, a
group of three women dressed for the office, looked toward Noah, he gave them a
pleasant, guileless smile they seemed to appreciate.

Gen didn’t blame them. He wasn’t beefcake hunky, but the
direct gaze, the lean strength of his body, the compelling face and eyes, made
a nice package. She remembered the give of his mouth beneath her fingertips,
could easily imagine his tongue teasing her fingertips, those brown eyes
studying her, gauging what would give her pleasure.

If Noah was “with” Lyda, not just an employee, did that mean
he was like Brendan, a submissive? Did he “belong” to Lyda? As Gen imagined
having someone like him at her command, submitting to anything she desired, her
knees weakened a little. She’d never given a lot of thought to tying a man up.
She’d barely gotten out of missionary position with the two mistakes she’d
married, both of them into the traditional male-on-top scenario.

She made a face at herself. For all she knew, Noah just
worked for Lyda, and Lyda was merely a very imperious person, neither one of
them part of the BDSM lifestyle. Best not to let her imagination run away with
her, but there was no harm in it. The racetrack was in the privacy of her mind.

When her name caught her attention, she tuned into the
conversation between Marguerite and her visitor. The context put a hard brake
on her thoughts, both feet hitting them with a
what the hell
?

“Gen has purchased tile for her kitchen, but hasn’t yet
hired someone to do the labor,” Marguerite was saying. “She could use an extra
pair of hands to do that.”

Marguerite glanced her way. “Gen, Lyda is looking for
somewhere for Noah to stay for the weekend. He has excellent handyman skills.
Would you be interested in his labor in return for giving him room and board?”

If M was making the suggestion, she knew enough about Noah
that he could be trusted in Gen’s home. Which left Gen more worried about
whether
she
could be trusted.

She glanced his way. The intent quality to his expression
clogged her breath in her throat.

“He refuses to allow me to pay for his accommodations
elsewhere,” Lyda was saying to Marguerite. “He can be stubborn about that. He
prefers to pay his own way. Besides the renovating, he’ll do whatever
maintenance or housekeeping chores are needed while he’s there. Laundry,
cleaning, yard mowing. No task too big or small.”

“Sounds like I may not want to give him up.” Gen meant it as
a joke, but the way Lyda’s gaze turned to her strangled Gen’s nervous half
chuckle.

“He has that effect. I’ll be having some college friends visiting,
but it’s a girls’ weekend. No boys allowed. He could crash at a friend’s house,
but I prefer making his arrangements for him, so I know where he is, and that
he’s properly occupied.”

Marguerite and Lyda exchanged a cryptic glance at that. Gen
turned her attention to Noah, wanting to know his reaction to such an audacious
statement. His gaze was fixed on Lyda. In it she recognized a hint of what
she’d felt when Lyda had gripped her hair so hard. Hunger. The kind that moved
low in the belly, that had to do with sex, with longing, with a question
waiting to be answered.

When Lyda’s glance flickered toward him, Noah’s attention
dropped to the floor, so deliberately Gen felt the jolt. Okay, her Nancy Drew
skills were on target. But she didn’t know anything about this kind of thing.
Was she supposed to treat him the way Lyda would? No, of course not. He’d just
be a house guest helping her out with the kitchen.

“Gen?” Marguerite was asking for a decision. “Would you like
Noah’s help? I guarantee he’ll be helpful and as nonintrusive as you wish. But
there’s no obligation at all on your part. He can stay with Tyler and me.”

Which would make more sense, really. Gen’s entire house was
the size of Marguerite and Tyler’s living room. But Marguerite also knew that
Gen’s funds were limited, and she really did want to get the kitchen finished…

“No. I’d appreciate the help.” She heard the words exit her
mouth. Noah’s expression warmed, and another wave of nervousness had her
looking away.

“When you don’t have need of him, just send him to his
room,” Lyda said. A spark in Noah’s eyes, which Lyda answered with one in her
own gaze, told Gen he knew when his chain was being yanked. It was amusing…and
intriguing.

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Gen said. “Thank you,
Ms. Coltrane. And thank you, Noah.” Marguerite gave Lyda a significant look,
tapping her fingers on the table cloth. It was a gesture Lyda answered with an
irritated glance, but then she met Gen’s gaze. “I apologize for the presumption
earlier. I wasn’t trying to play with your head.”

“Yes you were,” Marguerite said. Lyda shot her a cool look
and rose.

“If you don’t want your toys played with, Marguerite, don’t
leave them unattended.” She glanced at Gen. “You should clean up those roots.
You’re a beautiful woman. You need to remind yourself of it. Noah is good for
that as well.”

At that outrageous comment, she moved toward the door.
Pausing by Noah, Lyda put her hand on his shoulder. She murmured to him and he
answered in the same quiet tone. Giving him a searching look, she leaned down,
brushed his mouth with her own, holding the kiss. Noah kept both hands on his
knees, though it was obvious by the way he met the kiss full on, he wanted to
do more.

“Be good. Else you’ll wish you could stay away from me for
far longer than a weekend.”

His gaze burned into her face. “I’d never wish that.”

She stroked his face, a brief touch. A glance her way told
Gen Lyda had intended her to hear that last exchange, regardless of whether the
other customers did. Gen noticed Marguerite’s jaw tighten. Then Lyda left, the
screen door creaking behind her. As she crossed the porch of the
nineteenth-century house Marguerite had converted into her business, Gen
shifted to see her climb into a pickup with the nursery logo.

“She’s leaving him here now?” Was she supposed to let him
sit in the corner all day, like a patient pet?

“He has a ride picking him up for his class at the college,”
Marguerite explained, rising and coming around the counter. “They’ll bring him
back in time to go home with you at the end of the work day.”

“Oh. Well I haven’t…” The guestroom was clean, of course,
because no one had been in it for a while, but it was all pretty sudden.

Marguerite laid a hand on top of hers. She wasn’t inclined
to casual affection, so Gen took it for a deliberate reassurance. “I apologize
on Lyda’s behalf. She can be…unpredictable.”

She suspected Marguerite had some other problems with her,
but the matter right now was what problems she’d presented for Gen. Or
problematic opportunities.

Marguerite’s voice lowered. “You know enough about my world,
the one beyond Tea Leaves, to understand what he is, right? What Lyda is?”

Those blue eyes were measuring her response, trying to make
sure she could handle whatever this was. Gen knew without asking she could
withdraw her agreement, that Marguerite would handle things for her. She didn’t
like that idea, though. Not after she’d said she could handle it.

“Yes. I’m not sure. Does he need…anything different?”

“No.” Marguerite’s expression showed gentle amusement, but
not in a way that made Gen feel foolish. “If you feel uncertain about anything,
simply ask him. He will tell you the absolute truth. Otherwise, he’s a
houseguest helping you tile your floor and paint your walls. He’s very much
like Brendan in that way.”

“Just don’t get him wet, let bright light touch him, or give
him food after midnight.”

That bright interjection came from Chloe, of course. The
other member of the Tea Leaves staff delivered the comment while hanging up her
purse on the coat rack. Chloe was barely five feet tall, with sharp blue eyes
and a lovely cap of brown hair currently dyed with a blue streak. She also had
a figure like a pocket Venus. She gave Gen her usual morning hug and Marguerite
a smile that could compete with the sun. “Oh my God, Gen, you get Noah for a
few days. I’m so jealous. I saw Lyda at the end of the street and she said she
was loaning him to you.”

Chloe turned her attention to the male in question. Bounding
across the room, she plopped herself in his lap and hugged him. As he
disappeared behind the clasp of her lush body, his arms circled her. Obviously,
Noah knew Chloe well.

“Better?” Marguerite asked Gen.

Gen gave her a rueful look, but she couldn’t help but smile.
All the worries she could harbor about such an unexpected turn of events
couldn’t hold against Chloe’s infusion of normalcy into a far-from-normal
situation.

“Will Lyda be coming by to see him? Or coming to pick him
up?” And why did the thought fluster her so?

Marguerite’s attention sharpened on her. Her boss missed
very little. “I expect she’s already worked that out with Noah. He doesn’t have
a car, but he knows how to get where he needs to be. Disappointed?”

“No.”
Yes.
“I mean, it doesn’t matter. Whatever’s
easiest. I can drop him off at her place. Maybe get some plants for the yard.”

Though Gen turned away as more customers arrived, she felt
Marguerite’s attention. She could handle that, at least better than the
lingering feel of Lyda’s hand on her scalp. As if that wasn’t distracting
enough, Lyda’s lithe body, the way denim creased with the movement of her ass
as she walked away, stayed with Gen throughout most of the day as well, mixing
with the memory of Noah’s eyes and lips, the touch of his hands. What had she
gotten herself into?

* * * * *

As Marguerite had indicated, Noah returned at closing time.
He came from his sailing class with damp hair and the smell of sea water. He’d
also changed from his earlier clothes into a dark ribbed tank and worn blue
jeans.

When he volunteered to do whatever they needed, closing
became a half-the-time affair. Marguerite had shocked her by allowing Noah to
do the hand washing of the cups, something she was so particular about that Gen
and Chloe considered it a sacred act.

While cleaning the brewing equipment, Gen was dangerously
entranced, watching his long fingers swish the disposable cloth into each cup,
the way he placed the delicate porcelain in the dish drainer, his attention
never leaving his task. Except once.

He stopped, his fingers tented on a cup, eyes swiveling back
to meet hers. He held her gaze, acknowledging he knew she was watching him,
then he returned to the task, not another word spoken. A tremor went through
her fingers.

The closer they came to going home together, just the two of
them, the more his slightest gesture sent sexual signals to her. That was
wrong. He was Lyda’s. But it was too late to back out. Or was she just
unwilling to do so?

He offered to drive her car on the way home, giving her a
break from Tampa traffic. She was agreeable to that. As they maneuvered out of
the older downtown area of Tampa and headed for the suburbs, they morphed from
a relaxed chat about their respective workdays into Gen looking for more
information about him. Yes, she trusted Marguerite, but she took care of herself.
She wanted some more info about the person who was going to be spending time in
her home.

“So why don’t you have a car?” she asked.

“I don’t have a driver’s license.”

She blinked. “Guess I should have asked you that before you
took the wheel. But you obviously know how to drive.” He negotiated the Tampa
rush-hour traffic far more capably than she ever had.

She found that wry curl of his lip very appealing. “Sorry. I
should have qualified that. I’ve had one, you know, when I was first old enough
to drive. Just haven’t been back to renew it. I don’t do a lot of paperwork
stuff.”

“Okay.”

She didn’t press on that one, but it made her think of
Chloe’s cryptic comment when the two of them had taken some supplies back to
the storeroom.

“Did Marguerite tell you much about how Noah is?” The girl
rolled her eyes, answering her own question before Gen could. “Of course not.
She’d consider basic information being overly chatty.”

“I know he’s a…submissive. Like Brendan?”

“Like Brendan, but not. They’re all so different.” Chloe
considered. “It probably doesn’t matter. You’re not going to be relating to him
that way anyway.”

“He’s helping me with my kitchen. I don’t need to know
private things about him, Chloe.” But she mentally willed Chloe to tell her
everything she knew. For once, surprisingly, Chloe didn’t oblige.

“Okay. Sure. But if you change your mind, you know my cell
number.”

It made sense. Those who inhabited the D/s world were
probably very private about their preferences, not wanting them discussed among
the uninitiated. For all her uninhibited nature, Chloe was sensitive to
discretion, else she wouldn’t be working for Marguerite. For instance, while
she was pretty open about her relationship with Brendan, if Chloe saw things in
the club that revealed more about that type of relationship between Marguerite
and Tyler, two Dominants, she never spoke of it.

Coming back to the present, the thought helped Gen rein
herself in.
Keep it separate. Not your world.
Of course Marguerite had
said he’d be absolutely honest…