Newton Neighbors (New England Trilogy) (19 page)

Ely jumped to her feet. “Well, well, well. You’re Dan.” She looked the newcomer up and down.
 

“Hi.” He gave her one of his heart-melting smiles.

“Hi, yourself. I haven’t heard your name in these parts for some time,” she said with a little hostility.
 

It embarrassed Jessie. “Oh, it was all a misunderstanding,” she said, trying to smooth over Ely’s overbearing attitude.
 

The Southerner wasn’t so timid. She walked around Dan, eyeing him up and down as she might one of her horses. “A misunderstanding, you say, J?” She eyed Dan. “How exactly did that happen?”

“Ely . . .” Jessie stamped her foot hard on the floor. It made both Dan and Ely look at her.

“Oh, like that, is it?” Ely’s tone changed, and she smiled. “Well, okay.” She winked at Dan. “So it appears you’re welcome back with open arms, and I am getting the distinct feeling I have to be somewhere else.”
 

Now it was Ely’s turn to gather up her papers. She threw everything into her satchel and grabbed her coat from behind the door. She glanced at Jessie and smirked. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she said and swept out the door with a flourish.
 

For a moment, Dan and Jessie just looked at the door. Ely was such a force of nature, but a good force. Then they looked at each other, and in a second, they were locked together again. This time there was no possibility of hanging back.
 

Jessie hadn’t made the conscious decision she wanted to be with him, because there was simply no decision to make. She needed to be with him. She wanted to wash away the weeks of self-doubt and confusion she felt. He was gorgeous, she wanted him, and it was pretty clear he wanted her, too.
 

They didn’t even make it to her small twin bed. Nor did they bother to lock the door. They peeled off their clothes like they had been lovers forever. When they were both naked, Dan made the supreme effort of slowing down.
 

“I don’t want to rush this,” he said in a whisper.

“I do,” she said, breathless.
 

Dan laughed at her. “Can’t I enjoy you? You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft, so pale.” He stroked her flat stomach, but that only made her more desperate for him.

“Enjoy me next time. Just be with me now,” she said, pulling his head down to her so she could kiss him again. She wasn’t prepared to tell him, but the truth was Jessie hadn’t been with a guy for years. Not since she’d had her heart broken. Right now, all she really needed was plain old-fashioned sex, and Dan was the man for the job.

“You’ll need a condom,” she said.
 

“Do you have any?”

She shook her head in a sudden panic. “What can I say? I didn’t see this coming.”

He laughed at her and went to find his wallet in his jacket. “Don’t worry, baby. You may not have seen this coming, but you’ll certainly feel it.” His tone was almost menacing, but it gave her a shiver of anticipation.
 

Dan knew what he was doing.
 

It was good he’d brought more than one condom, because they needed three before they eventually ran out of steam. At one point Jessie even remembered to lock the door. Physically drained by evening, they made their way to Jessie’s twin bed and snuggled under her down comforter.

“I’m glad you came to find me when I didn’t return your calls or texts,” she said as she lay in the crook of his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

“So am I,” he said. “That was one hell of an afternoon. Want to do it again sometime?”

She raised up to balance herself on her elbow. “Um, yes. Like maybe tomorrow and the day after and the day after that?” Then she gave a nervous laugh.
 

Didn’t a session like that mean they were in some sort of a relationship? She thought it, but didn’t say.

Dan smiled and stroked her disheveled hair. “Whoa, baby. I’m at work for the next five days. How about I call you?”

She flopped back down onto his shoulder. “With your calling history? Maybe I should phone you, Dan,” she said. She tried to sound flippant, but she could hear the bitchy tone of her voice.
Oh God, don’t let me get snippy now
.

He tipped her face toward him and frowned. “Hey, Jessie, I’m real sorry about the phone confusion. I will call you. This is great. I like you.” He kissed the top of her nose.
 

It was enough. Jessie made herself breathe. She was being dumb. Guys were goofy. They got numbers wrong all the time. They didn’t count days the way women did. This was all okay. She kissed him again.

“I’m sorry. Bad joke. I’ll give you my number again, and just call me when you’re off work. As you said, this is good—great. Let’s just enjoy each other when we can. I know you have to work, and to be honest, I have to study, too. A lot. We’ll work around each other’s schedules.”

His hands had begun to wander as she spoke. “We can work around each other, too,” he said and started to kiss her bare shoulders again.
 

It looked like he was ready for more action. Maybe what he lacked in phone contact, he made up for in physical contact, she thought with satisfaction.
 

It seemed like Dan was reading her mind. He rolled his body over so he was on top of her, pinning her down onto the mattress. “I have something I’d like to try,” he said. He sounded more menacing than usual. “Tell me, baby, do you have any baby oil?”
 

Chapter Thirteen

Johnson’s Baby Oil

“Baby oil? Who knew?” Cathi was bursting with excitement and had phoned Maria to tell her everything. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen the stainless steel in my kitchen gleam so bright. After you’ve given it a good scrub, just polish it up with baby oil and it shines as well as it did the day you bought it.”

“Yeah?”

That wasn’t the reaction Cathi wanted. “Seriously, that’s all you can say? Maria, you could try to inject some sincerity into your voice.”

“Huh? Sorry. This is important to you.”

It was very important to Cathi. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m just so nervous. What if my realtor was off the mark? Maybe she was overly optimistic.”

“She’s a professional,
chica
. If she thinks your house is worth a small lottery, who are we to argue? It’s a fantastic appraisal—just go with it.”
 

Cathi knew they’d already had this conversation, but she still needed reassuring. It was all they had talked about since she’d set foot in Noreen Palmer’s house. If it was possible to move mountains with sheer willpower, Cathi Grant was going to do it.
 

Her husband had little say in the matter. Cathi hadn’t told him about getting the realtor until the report came back with the whopping appraisal. Only then had Cathi told Michael, and he was thrilled. The house was worth way more than they’d paid for it almost a decade earlier. What he wasn’t so thrilled about was her desire to move them to Crystal Lake. Michael liked their home, and he didn’t want to live too close to Rick Sanchez. They already worked together. He argued that living so close might be a little too much of a good thing. Cathi had admitted all of this to Maria already. Her friend had agreed, but there was no talking Cathi down. One way or another she was going to trade up, and there was no way anybody was going tell her otherwise.

“Oh, that’s the doorbell. I have to go,” Cathi said.
 

“Good luck.”

Cathi laughed. “Maria, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s not a question of luck—it’s all careful planning. Trust me.” She hung up and headed for her front door.
 

As she swept through her house, she double-checked that cushions were plumped up and the throws were smoothed down. Everything was as ready as it could ever be, so Cathi opened her front door with flourish.

“Collette, how are you? Come in.” She smiled her biggest, brightest, most house-proud smile and ushered the realtor in. As always, Collette was dressed immaculately in a smart black suit. Her shoulder-length blond hair was freshly blown out and looked dangerously similar to Cathi’s. The realtor looked like a consummate pro. Cathi had chosen well.

Collette Bispham laughed as soon as she entered the house. “I can smell the freshly brewed coffee and homemade bread from here.”

“Can you?” Cathi preened. “Good. I read it creates a welcoming environment for prospective house buyers.”
 

Her realtor nodded. “That’s true,” she said. “But for a house of this value, you’re dealing with a more sophisticated buyer. Things like brewed coffee and homemade bread—well, let’s just say they’re prudent clients.”

Cathi didn’t care. She shrugged away her realtor’s caution, and they walked into the kitchen together.

“This place looks fantastic.”
 

“Yes, I worked hard and used the baby oil trick on the stainless steel dishwasher and refrigerator. Don’t they look like new?”

Again, Collette smiled but avoided touching the shiny appliances. “Well, you can head out now if you like. I put up the open house sign at your gate and I’ve already had a few phone calls, so I hope we’ll get a couple of visits.”

Cathi didn’t look so sure. “I was thinking I might stay here. I could answer any questions that buyers have.”

Collette’s smile slipped. “Mrs. Grant, in my experience, buyers feel more comfortable wandering around a house alone. They like to poke and have a good look, and they’re less inclined to do that if you’re here. Are there any other family members still in the house?”

“No, my husband took the girls to a circus in Boston,” Cathi said.
 

What she didn’t tell Collette was that she’d avoided telling Michael about the open house altogether. He had taken the news of their high appraisal so well that she’d decided the best way to handle her husband was to tell him after the fact. If they got a good offer, she would bring it to him on a silver platter. Much better than getting him involved at this early stage. The house hunters would be in and out, without him even knowing or having to worry about it. How cool would it be to go to him with a firm offer at or even over the asking price? Then she would have to convince him to take the money and she would be halfway to Crystal Lake.

“Mrs. Grant?” Collette interrupted her daydream. “Are you leaving?”

Cathi snapped back to reality. “No, Collette. I won’t. This is my house. I know everything there is to know about it. It might be a little unorthodox and I’ll keep out of your way, but I’m staying.”

Collette shrugged and smiled. “Suit yourself,” she said and headed back out to the front door to wait for potential buyers.

Cathi lapped the ground floor of her home again to ensure everything was perfect. She had been jittery in the morning with Michael, and with the children, particularly, because she couldn’t tell them why she was so uptight. Earlier, Michael had buttered some bread on the kitchen counter, and she had overreacted. She knew that now.

“I just wiped that down,” she had said, exasperated. “Can’t you use a plate?”
 

Michael pulled out the dish and dropped his buttered bread onto it. By then, of course, it didn’t matter. He had managed to mess up the counter and a plate.
 

“Can I have permission to put some jelly on my toast?” he asked, his tone dripping with annoyance.

“Oh, Michael, I just spent the morning cleaning the kitchen. Is it such a crime that I don’t want to see it messed up again?” She was doing her best to sound reasonable and hide her excitement, but then she turned on one of her girls with the anger of a banshee. “Stacy, get your feet off the footstool. I just vacuumed that. And switch off that darn television. Look, can you play outside this morning?”

Stacy looked understandably shocked. “It’s a footstool—it’s designed for feet. And I can’t go outside. It’s freezing,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Cathi’s shoulders fell in defeat, but Michael saw her. “Baby, what’s eating you?” He left the toast and focused on her. “Is it the kids? Do you need a little mommy time? To be honest, I think you’ve been working around the house too much. Why don’t you come to the circus with us?”

Cathi felt her shoulders tense up even more at the suggestion of her leaving the house. “I don’t want to go to the circus. I want to stay here.”

“Okay, so I’m guessing it
is
the kids. I’ll take them into town and get lunch at Quincy Market. Then I’ll take them to the circus and give you plenty of head space, but I’m doing this on the condition you rest and decompress a bit. Okay?”
 

She looked up into his concerned eyes and nodded, feeling grateful. He was a good husband.

“You promise you’ll chill out and do nothing?” he asked again.

“I promise I’ll relax, and I won’t even leave the house,” she said.

He smiled. “No more cleaning or home improving?”
 

“What’s left to do?” She avoided his question. “The place is immaculate. I think that’s why I’m jumpy about letting it get messy again. It took such a gargantuan effort to get it this neat and tidy, and I just don’t want to see it trashed.”