Intensity (8 page)

Trim black hair coated the base and little patches played peek-a-boo around each sac.

“Is this your first?”

His abrupt and unexpected prompt broke my trance. My attention lifted up to his watchful gaze. His hard-to-read face no doubt already knew the answer. I glanced back down, getting another eyeful before mumbling, “Yes.”

“Get up, now.” His tone, louder than before, had me standing in an instant.

I should’ve been alarmed and kept quiet, but instead spoke first. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head and got in bed. With an arm propped behind his pillow and the comforter covering him up to his chest, he watched me like I was an intriguing and perplexing documentary.

My gaze dropped to the floor; a sinking feeling formed in my stomach. The glittery gold sparkles on my dress caught the light from the nightstand. My hands wrapped around my middle, protecting and hugging tight.

“Come to bed, Serena.”

I plodded to the other side and plunked down with my back to him. The darkness outside matched my mood.
Gloomy
. Light from harbor lampposts created shadows in various spots along the boardwalk, mirroring the mystical form lying behind me, and the reflection I kept glancing at in the window.

I unzipped the dress, and it fell to my hips. Crap. I didn’t wear a bra with the strapless outfit, and my string-bikini underwear was thinner and more transparent than dental floss. All my clothes were in my apartment, and I hadn’t thought to bring anything up here. Nothing I could do about it now. I wasn’t about to ask for something to put on and add to the humiliation. I pulled the garment underneath me and let it fall to the floor. Tomorrow, I’d plan ahead and bring something to sleep in. On my next trip to the Goodwill, I’d get a robe.

A finger skimmed my lower back. “When did you get the tramp stamp?”

Seriously? Okay, call me naive. I didn’t know people called it that when I got it.

“Six months ago,” I countered, like getting inked had been routine for me. Ha! He’d never know.

“What language is it? What’s it say?”

I smiled and my retort rushed out before giving it much thought.

“Hmm, if I told you then I’d have to—”

He burst out laughing so hard the bed shook, registering at least six points on the Richter scale.

As I turned toward him, I made sure to keep my chest covered by my arm. “You don’t think I’m serious? I have connections, you know.” I giggled, because his hearty chuckles made it too hard to resist.

His arm covered his eyes as he continued to laugh, and that was all I needed to sneak under the comforter, pulling it up to my chin. I willed my mind off the deep voice that echoed in the room and the naked centerfold behind me. Yeah, good luck with that
.
Every movement he made seemed hardwired to my body.

His hand snaked around my waist, coming to rest between my breasts. Snuggled along my back, his bare chest and
everything
aligned at my rear. “Good night, beautiful.”

I closed my eyes and hoped he couldn’t feel the trembles rushing from my pinky toes to temple.

“Sweet dreams, Linc.”

Bright sunlight woke me. Pillow shoved to the side, I looked for a clock. Ugh, adjusting to a new schedule stunk. My usual bedtime had been around midnight, but now it didn’t come until two thirty. On days I had to be at the Millers’ by seven, the less than five hours of sleep left me feeling hung over, and I didn’t even drink anything. Thank goodness I’d reserved Tuesdays and Thursdays for bookkeeping, giving me a chance to sleep in. When daylight hit me though, my brain didn’t agree, it decided I had enough and wanted me to get up. Great, so much for that plan.

I threw on my dress and entered the cook’s dream kitchen. A note taped to the best appliance in the world caught my attention. Someone should encapsulate coffee makers in gold or platinum since they provided a treasure the majority of the population couldn’t live without.

Holy crap, a tan mug with a green “S” on it had me grabbing the counter and my chest at the same time, a shaking hand on each. Dang it, why did he do that? If I had experience, I’d know what it meant. In two days, I’d received a brand new wardrobe, a rent-free apartment, and an interior designer who had plans to paint and install new flooring and furniture. Now this. The small gesture meant more to me than all the rest. Often, the unplanned, spontaneous deeds were the type that brought immeasurable joy and in some instances, instilled hope.

Focus, Serena
—
you’re here for one reason. Falling for a man is not in the plan.

I needed to guard my inexperienced heart. Otherwise, I’d end up devastated when living here came to an end.

He’s my boss, being nice. That’s all. It’s no big deal, right?

I fisted my hand and used it to knock some sense into my brain. A busy day ahead of me, I walked back to my apartment with a full mug repeating,
he’s a good guy, he’d do it for anybody, it doesn’t mean anything.

Oldies rock fueled my mad typing skills as I hammered away at the accounts. Several abrupt knocks stopped my bobbing head and progress. When I opened the door, my stomach took an immediate three-and-a-half inward somersault dive. A sweaty, flushed Linc stood there with his arms spread across the narrow doorway, splaying him like an eagle soaring through the sky. He grabbed me around the waist and hauled me forward, kissing me with such vigor, I had to hold on to his hot, wet neck for dear life so I wouldn’t fall as he tilted me backward.

“You aren’t in my bed. What the hell?”

I stared, lips parted, still bent backward with his gorgeous, sticky body melting mine. Caught in his all-consuming, mind-bending spell, I couldn’t figure out my name, the day, year, or even recite the alphabet. All my brain saw or could say—
Linc, Linc, Linc
.

My eyes did function though, and noticed two protruding nipples on his skintight T-shirt. If I took a nip right there, what would it taste like? By some miracle his question registered, and I responded after a lengthy pause. “Didn’t you see what I wrote on your note?”

“No. When you weren’t there, I came here.” He clasped his hand in mine and pulled me into the living room, setting me on his lap. Wrapped in his arms, his body heat warmed me up even though his damp shirt seeped through mine. I couldn’t care less.

“I had invoices to work on.”

He nodded and stared in my eyes. I could see the wheels spinning in his brain, formulating something. “Do you like accounting?”

“Yeah, it’s what I’d like to do full-time.”

His hold tightened on my ribs. “Why’d you quit school?”

I wasn’t expecting that, or the gigantic hole bursting wide open in my heart when he asked it. Avoidance became my best option, and the turquoise butterflies flitting across the computer screensaver looked fascinating enough, better than his expectant stare. When I didn’t answer, he grasped my chin and redirected it toward him. “I told you, don’t be embarrassed or afraid to tell me anything.”

Yeah, easier said than done. Uncomfortable where the conversation might lead, I got up and approached the folders stacked twenty high. “I’d rather not talk about it.” I picked up a pencil, about to scribble a note in a client’s file, when he removed it from my grasp, tossing it down. It kept rolling and plopped on the floor, right where my eyes remained.

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his voice gentler and softer when he spoke again. “What happened, Serena?” His eyes, a sky blue today, showed very little green. Weird how they seemed to change whenever we talked. Maybe they were like mood rings.

My attention shifted to our joined hands, his bigger and darker than mine, they didn’t look odd together. In fact, they fit better than puzzle pieces, different in every way, but connecting perfectly.

If the situation with Monique had taught me anything, he wouldn’t give up anytime soon. “My gram had cancer.” I took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing. “Things didn’t go well. I wanted to take care of her, so I didn’t go back to school.”

He placed the sweetest kiss on my temple, whispering in the same spot, “I’m so sorry.” His warm, strong arms wrapped around my back, making me feel safe, protected. The harbor view and heat still radiating from his body eased my nerves somewhat. My excessive blinking resisted the tears that wanted to fall. No doubt it would turn this into an embarrassing situation rather than a supportive one. When would the pain stop?

“Why do you have three jobs?”

Damn, this interrogation just ventured into “plead the fifth” territory. For a year I’d kept the real reason a secret, and if I could, no one would
ever
know. Gram would roll over in her grave if she knew why I lost the house she left me in her will. Someday I’d have to deal with it. I needed money though, tons of it, to unravel the huge mess. To keep him from asking any more prying questions, I formulated a half-true version that would reveal a teensy bit and satisfy his curiosity.

“My gram didn’t have insurance. We used credit cards, took out loans for medical and college expenses.” I traced an absent-minded pattern on the seam of his jersey while explaining. “Payments got to be too much. I kept up with the accounting and worked for the Millers, but spent most of my time taking care of her.”

Quiet for a while, his breathing sounded louder than the honking boat outside. “You could start over. File for bankruptcy.”

I glared at him and stated matter-of-factly, “No, I’m not doing that.” Tired of the conversation, I went out to the balcony. I needed some fresh air.

Linc came up next to me and nodded toward a boat. “You been sailing?”

His abrupt change in subject took me by surprise. “No, I plan to though. It’s on my wish list.”

He turned toward me with a repressed smirk. “You’re a planner, huh?”

His question and the teasing way he said it made me chuckle, lightening the tension. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

A smile stretched across his face as he wrapped his arms around my stomach and placed his chin on my head. Rays of sunshine rolled along the gentle current, mesmerizing me with the lolling motion. Birds’ sweet tweets echoed in rhythm to the beating waves, adding to the calming scene. Warm temperatures and his heated chest turned me to mush, like chocolate left in the sun too long. A slight breeze caressed my face and brought with it a fresh-cut grass smell, reminding me spring would be here soon. Five weeks from now, April first, I’d be twenty-two. If the date didn’t speak volumes about my life, I didn’t know what did.

He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple rubbing against the back of my head. “Since you’re not catering anymore, the money you make bartending, you could give up the nanny job.” He ducked his head, pressing his lips against my ear. “Let me help you, Serena. I have business contacts everywhere. One call and they’ll send accounts your way. Would you like that?”

I closed my eyes and listened to his even breaths. His strong arms, steady and sure, made everything seem so simple. But Gram’s
you don’t get something for nothing
mentality and die-hard work ethic had instilled a self-determination I couldn’t ignore. It might take time, but my problems would get resolved, and I had to do it without people stepping in and rescuing me. In some way, maybe she’d see the granddaughter she raised as her own had learned a lot. Her fighting spirit a good one to emulate. “Never give up. Tackle one problem at a time, big or small. Challenges cultivate the soul, reaping a prosperous harvest.” Her words of wisdom came at the most unusual times, and encouraged and invigorated me.