Forecast (18 page)

Drew threw his head back and laughed. Rowie felt faint just watching him. The guy was freaking gorgeous, a resident of Mount Olympus come to life.

Drew pointed to a tray of pastries. “You can relax and have some breakfast.”

“This looks delicious,” said Rowie, suddenly ravenous.

“So do you.” Drew felt the same, but not for the food.

Rowie grabbed a croissant and smothered it with butter and jam, unaware of Drew’s admiring stare. He adored it when women ate with gusto.

Around lunchtime they anchored in a small cove and jumped off the side of the yacht, screaming and laughing as they hit the icy water. Rowie, clad in some of Drew’s boxer shorts and a tank top, felt completely liberated. The water was refreshing, as was her behavior. She felt like a fifties haus-frau who had suddenly woken up in the pages of the
Kama Sutra.

Back on board, Drew slipped Rowie’s wet shirt over her head and gently laid her down on the deck. She didn’t even question the convenient appearance of a condom. It was better to remember the moment as
From Here to Eternity
than ‘From Here to Maternity.’

They drank in each other, kissing and stroking themselves into a frenzy. Rowie pushed Drew onto his back and climbed on top of him, her wetness almost burning his skin. He grabbed her, pulled her forward and kissed her fiercely just as she positioned herself so he could enter her. He thrust inside her and they both groaned, their lips pressed against each other. Rowie began to move. She arched back and rode him, faster, faster, faster, until Drew was begging her for more. He grabbed her hips and pushed her down, down, but still he wanted to fill her further. He wanted to be completely swallowed by her. She felt the energy rise. She felt him peak. She felt him shoot, throbbing waves of pleasure through her body until in one frenzied moment she came. Hard, long, loud, the sheer bliss of it spurring Drew on, his entire body shuddering as he yelled out her name.

Rowie collapsed in a heap on top of him. “I really like sailing,” she laughed.

They eventually sailed back to the boat basin and spent the evening relaxing on deck. Rowie felt happier than she could ever remember. Drew occasionally fed her something, or nibbled at her neck, or slipped his hand up her shirt, but on the whole they talked. And talked and talked.

“Where did you live before you bought Aspasia?” asked Rowie.

“I had an apartment.”

“I can’t imagine you living on land.”

“I can’t imagine it any more,” Drew agreed. “I grew up in a house, but my father sailed regularly. I’ve always been around boats.”

“Does your father still sail?”

“More than ever since my Mom died. She wasn’t a great fan of sailing. She got seasick. She fully encouraged us though. Dad has a small sloop called Seanessa, which he virtually lives on now.”

“I bet he misses your Mom.”

Drew’s eyes misted over. “Yeah … we both do.”

Rowie stroked his arm. “She’s still around.”

“Rowie, this psychic thing … well … what does it mean? Can you read my mind, or my future? What should I expect from this talent of yours?”

“I thought you weren’t sold on the idea of psychic phenomena,” she said.

Drew looked sheepish. “Well, if I were to change my mind …”

Rowie poured a coffee and tried to look nonchalant. “I can’t read you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Normally, if I wanted, I would be able to pick up all sorts of information about someone. With you … I don’t get anything. Nothing. Zip.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Rowie stared deep into his eyes and, for the first time ever, was baffled about what the future held. She was both frightened and excited by the mystery of it, but she couldn’t tell him that. She couldn’t tell him that she had always known the man she would spend her life with would be an enigma. She couldn’t let him know that after only two nights she felt he might be that man, and that it was her inability to be sure that made her so.

“No idea,” Rowie shrugged. “Maybe you’re just a mysterious guy.”

Drew was fascinated. “So do you see dead people?”

“You make it sound like
The Sixth Sense
. Yes I see dead people but ‘dead’ is a very deceiving term. I see spirits and energies. Energy never dies, it just changes form.”

Drew looked out across the river, lost in his own thoughts and memories. “I think I saw my mother … the night she died.”

“I’m sure you did,” Rowie said gently. “Perhaps she wanted you to know she was fine, and still with you.”

“It probably had more to do with the bottle of vodka I drank,” Drew scoffed.

“Perhaps,” said Rowie. “But everyone has intuitive abilities. You are a very sensitive man. I don’t need to be psychic to see that. I’m sure it was your mother.”

“As you’ve already seen, I don’t like things I can’t explain.”

“I don’t try to explain things,” said Rowie, simply. “I just accept them.”

Norm ambled up and pushed himself between them. Drew and Rowie laughed and gave him an affectionate pat. Norm flopped down and placed his head on Drew’s lap and promptly began to snore.

Rowie smiled at Drew, regretfully. “I should go home.”

“I don’t think you should ever go home.”

“Don’t tempt me …”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “I’ll drive you.”

Rowie grabbed her bag and they headed for his car. Tearing herself off Aspasia was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

They were both quiet on their way back to The Grove. Neither wanted the weekend to end. Drew parked and walked Rowie to the front door and memories of their first kiss flooded back. Was it really only two days ago?

Rowie stood one step higher than Drew and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her body against his as they kissed, a rerun of the first night, only this time more urgent. There was no mystery now, just a fierce need to be naked and joined together.

“Will you come in?” Rowie tried to keep the pleading out of her voice.

Drew was tempted. “Isn’t it weird, with your …?”

“It’s nearly midnight. They’re probably in bed.”

Drew pushed a lock of Rowie’s hair back behind her ear. He couldn’t stop touching her. “What if they’re not? What if they see me?”

“Knowing them, they’d give you some tips and wish you luck,” Rowie laughed.

God he was tempted! “I’d hate to offend them.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, they’re not your average parents. They think sex should be fully embraced.”

“Then I’d hate to let them down,” Drew grinned.

Rowie led Drew inside and up the stairs. It was dark and the house was deathly quiet. The normal Manhattan sounds barely penetrated the walls. Drew crept behind Rowie, hardly breathing. He didn’t want to run into anyone, no matter how liberal they were. A floorboard creaked and he froze.

“Shhhhh!”

“Don’t be so uptight,” Rowie giggled. “It’s really not a problem.” She bounded up the stairs, singing as she landed on each step. “Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-ti-do!”

Drew almost had a coronary. “Please be quiet! I seriously don’t want to see your grandmother right now.” He felt the stare of the portraits that lined the wall. A long row of dead redheads glared as he passed by. Rowie’s mother and grandmother may be quite open-minded, but these women were definitely judging him. “I feel like a schoolboy,” he whispered.

Rowie tossed him a seductive smirk over her shoulder. “You definitely don’t look like one.” She stopped and opened a door. “This is my room.”

Rowie’s bedroom had been transformed into a mystical harem of color and lit candles. Shadows danced across the walls, vanilla scent hung in the air. Someone had been expecting them and had prepared the boudoir.

“Who lit the candles?” asked Drew.

Rowie took Drew’s hand. “The Spirits.”

Drew glanced around nervously.
I don’t believe in ghosts … I don’t believe in
… “Are they … watching?”

“They’re always watching.”

Drew regained his composure and pulled Rowie into his arms. “Then you’d better tell them to cover their eyes.”

*

Drew lay on his side and watched Rowie sleep. Her face was incredible. Her lips had a naturally pink pigment, so it always looked like she was wearing lip-gloss. He presumed it was a physical quirk that most women would sell their souls for. Her eyelashes were long and thick and were darker at the roots than the tips. She had a freckle near her left ear. Actually, there was one near her right ear as well.

Rowie stirred slightly.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

She was silent for a moment and then slowly opened one green eye, and then the other. She gave him a lazy, contented smile. “More like great morning. Have you slept?”

“Nope. Just lay here all night staring at you.”

“I hope I didn’t snore.”

“No, but you did dribble once or twice.”

Rowie playfully hit him. “I did not!”

“You sleep like an angel.” Drew touched Rowie’s hair. “I love your hair. It’s so …”

Rowie rolled her eyes. “Red?”

Drew jumped to her follicles’ defense. “Some of the world’s greatest beauties have been redheads. Rita Hayworth, Jane Digby, Boudicca …”

“Raggedy Ann.”

“She’s a doll!” He kissed her lightly on the head. “And how about Jessica Rabbit? Wowzer!”

“Now you worry me.”

Drew lifted her hair off her face. “I bet the boys at school loved you.”

“Ah, no … they called me Firestarter and tampon head.” Rowie giggled. The memory of it didn’t seem so painful anymore.

“I want to know everything about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” said Rowie. “I’m not that exciting. I’ve certainly never sailed up the Panama Canal.”

Drew traced a finger around her breast. “Perhaps you will one day.” His finger slid down to her stomach. “So any weird traits I should know about … apart from the psychic thing? Any major flaws?”

Rowie exhaled. No point dying while trying to impress him. She had to breath. “You’re playing with one of mine, although a few sit-ups would probably remedy it.”

“You have a weird perception of what a flaw is. I think your body is magnificent.”

Magnificent! The guy really knew his adjectives. Between his compliments and his sensuous stroke she was turning into putty in his hands … oh no … Tongue!

Drew began to lick around her naval and down her thighs.

“Oh no, Drew I …”

“Shhhhhhh.”

He grabbed the tops of her legs and thrust them apart and then buried his face in her. Rowie wanted to die, wanted to protest … wanted to shower first. She wasn’t ready to expose herself like this. But the persistent licking and hot waves of pleasure soon had her groaning and succumbing, until her whole body shuddered and she collapsed into a sighing heap.

“That was incredible,” she purred. “If you ever lose your job you could take that up professionally.”

“So what were we talking about before?”

“I can’t remember. My brain melted somewhere between ‘stop’ and ‘don’t stop.’”

“I remember. You were going to tell me about yourself.”

Rowie nuzzled in beside him. “I’d rather have a nap.”

“Why don’t you do that,” said Drew. “I’ve got to love you and leave you anyway. I need to drop home before work.”

“I’ll see you there,” said Rowie.

Drew looked surprised. “At the network? Why’s that?”

Rowie remembered how Jess had asked her to keep a lid on Monday’s meeting. Did Drew count? She’d better not say anything, and then they could celebrate together later. “I’ve got to … tie up some loose ends. No biggie.”

“Great. Let’s have lunch.” Drew kissed Rowie. “What a weekend!”

“I know,” Rowie agreed. She felt like she could ride high on it forever.

Drew jumped out of bed, pulled on his pants, and then stalled. “Will your scary mother and grandmother be downstairs?”

“No,” Rowie assured him, deadpan. “They go to Mass every morning.”

“Really?”

Rowie grinned mischievously. “Of course.”

Drew retraced his way back along the hall and past the disapproving portraits. He glanced sideways at one stern looking woman, and nearly fell over when the portrait grinned and winked at him. Drew shook his head and continued down the stairs. He was obviously seeing things … He didn’t get much sleep … Best not to dwell on it …

He reached the kitchen door and paused. He could hear Gwendolyn and Lilia chatting over breakfast. He knew it was rude, but really couldn’t summon the courage to face them, so crept past. He’d almost made it to the front door when Gwendolyn’s voice rang out behind him.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

Damn! Drew swung back around with a forced smile. “Not at all. Just checking my shoes. Yep, there they are.”

“Did you have a nice night?”

Drew’s face flooded with embarrassment. He wasn’t sure how to answer.

It was okay.

Translation: Your granddaughter didn’t live up to expectations.

Lovely, thank you.

Translation: Your granddaughter was a bit of a dud.

Great!

Translation: Your granddaughter went off like a firecracker.

He couldn’t win. He settled for a nod.

There was an uncomfortable pause while they stared at each other: Drew apologetically and Gwendolyn with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

“Well, I’m off,” said Drew.

“Not before you eat breakfast, you’re not.”

Drew knew Gwendolyn wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so followed her back into the kitchen. Lilia was at the table, sipping tea.

“Skipping church this morning?” asked Drew.

Lilia gave him a sly grin. “We’ve been skipping it since Salem.”

Gwendolyn marched over to the stove and doled out some breakfast for Drew. “Take a seat, Drew. Scrambled tofu?”

Scrambled what?
Drew pulled up a chair opposite Lilia. “Sounds … delicious!”
For a toothless octogenarian hippy.

He stared at Lilia. She was wearing a simple, pale blue dress and her hair was pulled back in a chignon. Her makeup was minimal—she didn’t need any—and she wore tiny earrings with stones the color of dewdrops. She was a stunning woman.