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Authors: Stella Cameron

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Guilty Pleasures (36 page)

BOOK: Guilty Pleasures
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She sent him an accusing glare. “Now you’re reading my mind.” But she went to him gladly and shuddered at the sensation when he embraced her. She settled her face on his warm
ski
n, kissed that skin, and nuzzled her cheek against his chest hair.

“Belinda’s in custody,” he told her. “It isn’t the whole enchilada, but at least it gets one part of the mess cleared up. I wish we could say we didn’t have a care left.”

“Have you considered that what happened last night could have been kind of random? Sam came looking for Bobby and me and ran into an armed burglar?”

“That would be nice,” he said, without the enthusiasm she’d like to hear. “But no. It doesn’t work. Sweetheart, I’m going to have to do something I don’t want to do. I can’t risk having you and Bobby near me.”

Polly pushed on his chest, but he kept her where she was. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she said. “Bobby should be somewhere else. Safe. But where you go, I go.”

The pressure of his chin on the top of her head tightened her insides. “Listen to me, Polly. I can deal with this. You can’t. And now we know Belinda and Festus were your problem—and they’re not going to be a problem anymore—it only makes sense to get you away from me so you don’t get caught in the middle.”

“I’m not going.”

“No. No, I didn’t make myself clear. Roman and I think
you should stay here with Rose until the dust settles. They’ll make their move quickly now. They have to. If they wait,
they’ll be afraid I’ll either get away, or get to them.”

“You don’t even know who they are.”

“I think I know where to find them. I’m going back to Kirkland.”

She swallowed and felt ill. “You believe it’s Jack, don’t you?
You think he’s the one chasing you?”

Nasty eased up her chin. He kissed her gently, his lips only slightly parted. “I love you, Polly.”

It took effort to say, “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m going to marry you.”

Crumb, tears again.

“Trust me to be careful—and fast. And try not to think about Belinda and Festus. They were an aberration. These things are sick, but they happen.”

“I guess they’ll go after Festus, too.”

Nasty’s forehead furrowed. “Venus didn’t tell you about him? No, I see she didn’t.”

Hope made Polly giddy. “They’ve got him?”

“Yeah.” Nasty didn’t send up any cheers. “They got him. Well preserved. Makes a guy suspicious of words like,
‘t
ill death do us part.’ Belinda locked him in their basement freezer—probably about a week ago.

 

 

 

Twenty-se
ven

 

 


I
’ll be on the boat,” Nasty said. “They’ll like that—the idea of a chance to get at me alone.”

The day was still warm, the earth moist. Dusty and Roman stood with Nasty between all-but-bare vegetable beds in the kitchen garden.

Dropping to his haunches, Roman picked stones out of the soil. “Do we have our signals straight?”

Nasty nodded. So did Dusty.

“Right. Then you’d better get going. It’ll be easier if you do it before they come back.” He glanced toward the windmill, where Polly had taken Bobby to talk.

“Poor little kid,” Dusty said. “He’s too good, y’know.”

Nasty sidestepped a pebble Roman tossed at his shoe. “What does that mean?”

“Too tight. He’s trying to make all the grown-ups happy. Doing what he thinks they want him to do. He watches to see which way the wind’s blowing before he opens his mouth.” Like any intelligent kid who never really got to be a child. “Polly’s done a good job with him, but it isn’t easy—being a single parent.”

Another pebble hit the ground at Nasty’s feet. Roman grinned up at him. “Is she going to get some help with that?”

Dusty coughed and thumped himself on the chest. “Dumb question, Wilde. We gotta weddin’ to plan for.”

“Mind your own business,” Nasty told them both. “You’ve
been smoking again, Dust. You keep promising you’ll cut that out.”

“Yeah. We ought to get going. I’d like to be settled in before dark.”

Nasty looked toward the windmill again.

“Go on,” Roman said. “Go see how they’re doing. We don’t want your attention divided—not while we’ve got other business to deal with.”

“Roman’s right,” Dusty said. “Go to Polly and Bobby. Probably not a good idea to slip out, anyway.”

He didn’t waste time talking. It was important to get back to Kirkland, but Roman was right about divided attention. Once into the trees, Nasty broke into a run. His leg only got stronger, and he took pleasure in feeling it respond almost like the old times.

Outside the mill, he stopped and loo
ked up. The place was still, so
still he had the disquieting thought that they might not be there.

He poked his head up the stairway and called, “Halloo up top! Anyone on the bridge?”

Scuffling preceded Spike’s explosion from above. The big gray dog’s rear end waggled from side to side as he shot down to greet Nasty. Scratching the animal’s ruff, he climbed slowly upward.

Polly and Bobby sat, cross-legged, facing each other in the middle of the room at the top of the stairs. Bobby’s arms were tightly crossed, his face pinched and serious. Polly made a valiant attempt to smile at Nasty.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “Okay if I join the party? For a few minutes.”

He thought Polly’s mouth quivered before she pressed her lips together. “We’re not a lot of fun to be with right now,” she said.

“No one can be fun all the time.” Bringing Spike with him, he sank to sit between mother and son. “Dusty and I are heading out in a few minutes. I wanted to let you know we’re
leaving. We’re going to swing through Bellevue and drop Venus off on our way.”

“Thank you,” Polly said.

Bobby turned his face away.

“I told Bobby I’ve decided to accept Rose’s invitation to stay here for a few days.” Polly’s voice sounded strained. “I’m going to have him show me how this fishing works. He learned a lot with Dusty today.”

“I didn’t hear what you two caught,” Nasty said, wishing he could grab them both and take them away where they could put all this behind them.

Bobby shook his head.

“You didn’t catch anything?”

Another shake of the head.

“I can’t believe Dusty took you out all day, and neither of you caught anything. His reputation’s going to be shot. As soon as I get back, you and I’ll go. We’ll take your mom for luck. We’re bound to catch lots.”

“Maybe I’ll be the one to catch lots, and you’ll be the mascot,” Polly said.

Bobby wiped the short sleeve of his striped T-shirt over his eyes. “My dad died.”

Words deserted Nasty.

“We’re having kind of a difficult time with this,” Polly told him, and he saw her slow intake of breath.

“I’m sorry.” Give him something to say that mattered.

“He had an accident,” Bobby said. “He fell and got killed.”

Geez. “And you’re angry. Because you always hoped he’d come back, and you thought he was finally going to.”

Bobby sent him a confused stare.

“Sometimes we want things so badly we start believing they’re happening.” Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut.

“My dad was coming back. He said so.”

“Yeah.” Nasty looked to Polly, but she shook her head slightly. “Your dad wanted to come back. I heard him say that, too.”

Spike snuffled toward Bobby and licked his face. The boy put an arm around the animal’s neck. “Mom didn’t want him back.”

‘’Bobby—”

“Bobby,” Nasty said, cutting Polly off. “Your mom wants the best for you. She wants you to be happy. I know she thought it would be great if your dad could spend some time with you.”

“She didn’t love him anymore.”

He saw glimmerings of the child’s dreams. “You wanted your mom and dad to love each other. That’s the best way, but it can’t always happen.”

Spike’s thorough licking went unnoticed. “Mom loves you.”

Polly bowed her head.

“And I love her,” Nasty said firmly. “I can’t take your dad’s place. I mean, I can’t be your real dad—but I can be there for you. I can be
here
for you.”

The hunching of Polly’s sho
ulders disconcerted Nasty. She
needed his comfort, but he had to concentrate on the child.


This is an awful time. You’ve got to get used to what’s happened. But you and your mom don’t have to do it alone. That I doesn’t mean I can magically
make all the bad feelings go
away, but I can listen—and I can try to help.”

“Are you and mom going to get married?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitating. “Will you like that?”

Bobby frowned and wrinkled his nose. “What will I call you?”

He felt Polly looking at him and smiled. She rested a hand on her son’s dusty knee.

“You can call me whatever you like.” Rushing things wouldn’t necessarily be bad, but it could be. “You think about it and let me know.”

“If my dad didn’t come to find me, he wouldn’t have had an accident, would he?”

This is where the degree in psychology would help. “Your dad was a grown-up. He did what he wanted to do. He decided
to go to Kirkland. What happened was nothing to do with you. You didn’t tell him to come. If he’d come when you wanted him to, he’d have been with you a long time ago.” He prayed he wasn’t overstepping what the kid could handle.

“Give me a hug,” Polly said quietly. “Mom needs a hug.”

Bobby sniffed and swallowed—and got up to go and put his arms around Polly’s neck. “Don’t be sad,” he told her. “Don’t cry, Mom.”

She shook her head and held him tightly. “I won’t. I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

“And you’ve got Nasty,” Bobby said.

Nasty scowled at the fading light. Something had got in his eye. “Well, gang, I’d better get going before Dusty comes looking for me. Roman’s staying a few days with Rose before he goes back to Montana. He, er, he should be able to get through his business here pretty quickly.”

He and Polly looked at each other over Bobby’s head. Damn the risk. He knelt and pulled them both against him. “You two are the best. You’re the most important people around, d’you understand me?”

Polly rested her head on his shoulder and nodded.

Bobby faltered, then leaned on Nasty.

This was what they meant when they talked about feeling full up.

 

 


S
nap!” Roman slapped a card down and grinned with triumphant glee.

“Aw,” Bobby complained. “You’re gonna win again.”

“Maybe I’m going to win,” Rose said. “Snap.”

“Ahhh!” Roman and Bobby yelled in unison.

Polly had begged out of this round. She got up and left the kitchen. The happiness she felt frightened her. A woman shouldn’t have to be afraid to be happy.

All she wanted was to be with Nasty and Bobby. She’d never known the kind of peace and wonder she’d felt when he’d held
the two of them in the windmill—and when Bobby had shown that he was ready to accept Nasty.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed. She walked slowly past, counting to ten with the chimes. Bowls of pink and white roses scented the air.

Peace.

She opened the front door and strolled onto the veranda. The floodlights illuminated a wide margin around the house. A warm evening made the rain of morning seem imaginary. More roses in tubs carried their fragrance to Polly. Birds gave their night songs. Rose’s daddy had created an idyllic setting for his beautiful daughter. Despite early opinions to the contrary, Polly had decided Rose was mostly content with her life.

How unreal to think that only last night Sam had died in the woods on the other side of the house.

Someone ought to mourn him. In his seven-year-old fashion Bobby would wrestle with the idea, but Polly wanted to believe he’d make peace with his father’s death and move on.

She slowly descended the steps. This was the kind of night that drew people to the mountains. Warm, still, the sky big and dark, and sprinkled with stars—and clear as it was rarely clear in a city.

“Polly!”

Startled, she grabbed for a handrail and went backward up a step. The voice had come from beyond the floodlights.

“Polly, over here. Quickly. Oh, Polly,
quickly.”

“Jennie?”

“Yes.” Jennifer Loder emerged from the trees on Polly's left, at the edge of the lighted driveway. She kept her head bowed and beckoned frantically. “C’mon, Pol. We gotta move fast.”

Polly looked back at the house.

“Polly!”

Her pulse sped up. She hurried toward Jennifer, who drew back between the straight, tall trunks of Douglas firs.

“Cripes, Polly,” Jennifer said when they were face-to-face. “What’s been goin’ on up here?”

Polly hesitated.

Jennifer put a hand beneath Polly’s arm and drew her close. “That’s rhetorical. Or mostly. I was there when that Sam came to the studio. Then Gavin told us all the ghastly stuff about last night. What a mess. And now this.”

“This?” Polly echoed.

“Well—whatever your friend Nasty’s got going. I didn’t ask, I just did what he wanted. He does mean something to you, doesn’t he?”

Polly’s skin turned icy. “He means a lot to me. Is something wrong? Did something happen to him?”

“Damned if I know. He’s alive and kicking, I’ll tell you that. He came to my place. Mine and Art’s. Said he’d just gotten back to Kirkland, and he was going to his boat. Wouldn’t say why, or what was going on. But I could tell he was strung tight. You know what I mean.”

Polly knew. She didn’t feel like talking about it. “Why would he come to you?”

“I’m trying to explain that. He sent me on this cloak-and- dagger mission to get you. I didn’t know how I was going to pull it off without—Roman, is it? Yeah, Roman, that’s right. He wanted me to get you without bringing Roman on your tail. That’s what Nasty said. I told him I’m not an errand girl, but he said you’d told him we were friends, and so on. You know how that goes. So, here I am.”

Polly’s stomach took another turn. “Nasty asked you to come and get me without Roman knowing about it?”

Jennie waved her free hand. “Hey, don’t ask me to figure out the workings of a man’s mind. I’m only a woman, right?”

Polly didn’t laugh. “How did he know how to find you?”

“Beats me. Look, if you want me to go back and tell him you don’t want to play his game, I’ll do it. You know I’ll do it for you.”

“How did he seem?”

“Seem?” Jennie’s eyes glinted in the darkness. “Geez, damned if I know. Except he was rattled—I could tell that.
You know how cool he is. Ice-man, I’d call him. But I could feel him jumping on the inside—and he said he needed you.”

Panic made a rapid trip along Polly’s nerves. “I ought to go in and tell them I’m leaving.” Nasty needed her. Please don’t let him be hurt.

“I agree. But Nasty asked me to beg you not to do that. His words, not mine. ‘Beg her not to say anything to anyone,’ he said. ‘Ask her just to come with you and tell her it’ll be okay.’ Then he went tearing off again. So it’s your call, girl.”

Polly dithered.

“Oh, you’re going to worry yourself sick,” Jennie said. “This is a rotten idea.”

But Nasty
needed
her. “He wouldn’t ask this of me if it wasn’t desperately important. Wait here.” She turned and dashed back into the house, praying she wouldn’t meet anyone before she could get out again.

BOOK: Guilty Pleasures
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