Accidental SEAL (SEAL Brotherhood #1) (31 page)

He heard her heels
clickity-clack
down the tiled hallway and then heard the turn of the lock on the Patterson Realty front door.

Simms poured himself into the contracts again.

Christy was such a levelheaded lady, he thought. Not one to pick some loser rogue military guy. She seemed to be able to slice through people nicely without them knowing they’d been outmatched. Wayne Somerville had discovered that. Yet, she did it in such a way that Wayne was only too willing to come to her beck and call the instant she requested it. There was talent there, a strength of personality and something else sorely lacking in his profession: she cared about people.

The phone rang and it startled him.

“Mr. Simms, this is Christy. You called me this morning when I was in the shower. Your message didn’t record.”

Of course she would assume it was an error, not a trap. Her basic faith in human nature was key to who she was.

“Christy, I gotta have your address, since you’re not sure how long you’ll be gone. I could use the address of the shop, if you want.” Simms felt like a complete jerk.

“No. No, I don’t want Madame M to get mixed up in this, and somehow that will happen if I start giving her address out. I’m staying at 484 Stanyan Street. I think the zip is 94117.”

“Great. Thanks. I’ll keep it in my file here in case I need it. So how long do you think you’ll be, or do you know yet?” He asked this for his own sake of mind.

“Haven’t talked to Madame M this morning. She’s supposed to pick me up for breakfast.”

“Oh, great. So you are okay?”

“Yes.” She paused. Would she feel obligated to further explain? Something else was there, in the tone of her voice, as she continued. “I think the change of pace will be good for me right now.”

“Much as I wish you were back here, I have to agree with you,” Simms said. “You need any help on any of your work?”

“No. I gave Wayne my two buyer leads, but would you check on him? I’m thinking he won’t be the exact fit for those clients. He’s so different than I am, you know.”

Tell me about it.
“Christy, why didn’t you call me? I could have helped.”

“Fact is, these two guys from the Sheriff’s Department, well one from the sheriff’s office and one Navy guy, surprised me. Just showed up on their own without announcing themselves. I just felt a little uncomfortable with them, being alone.”

“So you called Wayne? Not me?”

Christy gave a nervous laugh. “He called me.” Her voice faded on the other end of the line, then returned. “I asked Wayne to come over, sort of for protection. I knew he’d come right away. And I know how busy you are…”

“No problem Just call me instead, okay?”

“Thank you. It’s nice to know I have people around me I can trust.”

Simms had a sharp pain in his gut. Felt like a hot poker of regret. And shame. He didn’t want to tell her about Kyle, but felt he should.

“Christy, I haven’t been entirely honest with you. Your Navy guy made that call.”

“What?”

“He came by this morning, telling me you were in danger.”

“And?”

“He demanded to know where you were.”

Cold silence.

“Mr. Simms, I have to go. But please, please do not tell him where I’m staying.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t. You can count on that.”

“Don’t even tell him I’m in San Francisco, or he’d figure it out.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for telling me. Keep the address private. Tell no one.”

“I won’t,” he lied.

“Thanks for looking out for me. I appreciate it.” She hung up.

Simms tapped the pad that had her address written on it. He had a choice to make and neither option facing him was good. One got him more involved and perhaps put Christy in danger. The other allowed someone he clearly didn’t trust to have information he wasn’t sure should be given out. He’d always believed in law enforcement. Maybe this sheriff was just a quirky guy with some unusual habits. Maybe that was what he was picking up from the man.

But one thing was for sure. He didn’t want to mess with the sheriff’s department. And the Navy should be taking care of their own. He dialed Warren Hilber.

“Got the address.” He gave it to Hilber and got a curt thank you. Before the phone went dead, Simms knew he’d made a big mistake.

Chapter 32

Christy dressed and waited. She’d decided to wear her new black stretch pants and a new pair of patent leather, four-inch spiked heels. When she used to work at the little shop, walking all day on tiptoes had made her top heavy and she had to press out her chest to keep her balance. By the end of the day her calves would ache, but she loved the way they felt.

She recalled what Madame M had said when she first told her of the shoes requirement. “I like the high heels because it simulates a woman’s legs in orgasm. It brings sexual tension, and sexual tension is good for lingerie sales.”

At first, it made Christy blush. But she eventually got comfortable with the look and feel of the shoes.

Madame was right about the impact it had on shop sales. The male customers didn’t seem to mind when she accidentally bumped her chest against them.

To complete today’s outfit, she wore a red stretch oversized top that showed off her soft ample bosom and matched the color of her flaming red lip color.

She observed Tom’s kitchen door was open, revealing a shiny inner screen door.

Inviting.
Welcoming her to come into his house. She hadn’t taken him up on his offer of last night.

Her cell phone chirped.

“Hello?”

“Cheríe, are you up? Refreshed?”

“Yes ma’am. Been up for awhile now.”

Madame giggled. “I am so glad you are in town. You have spent some quality time with Mr. Bergeron?”

“Yes. He cooked me dinner last night. I was tired and turned in early afterward.”

Madame giggled again.

“Alone. I went to bed alone.” Christy didn’t want to offend her former boss, but she needed to make it clear where she stood. “You didn’t tell me about his divorce.”

“Oui. I thought he should be the one to tell you, if he wished. And I see he has.”

“Yes.”

“C’est bien. I will be over in about twenty minutes. Tom told me he is cooking breakfast for us, if that is all right with you. I am running a little late, and a restaurant trip would make us even later.”

“Fine.” But Christy couldn’t deny the knot in her stomach.

She walked across the brick patio that gurgled with water sounds from two fountains. Bright multi-colored lilies stood at attention along the path and gave off a heady aroma. She stopped and inhaled the glorious scent, filling her head with toxic thoughts of Kyle and how much she missed his hard flesh next to hers. How much she missed his kisses. How much she missed the way he used her body to bring them both such pleasure.

She opened the screen door and stepped into a kitchen filled with cooking smells and the light lacing of jazz in the background. Tom was in faded blue jeans with another blue shirt, buttoned low. But he had a flowered apron on, and that made her chuckle. He turned and flashed her a smile right out of GQ, holding a green spatula in his right hand.

“Wow. You are a vision, Christy. I’m…I’m speechless.” He took a long, lingering look down the entire length of her body and back up, his eyes hungry. She hadn’t dressed for him, but for Madame M’s customers. But she liked it that he found her attractive. She couldn’t help it. He wasn’t bad to look at, either.

She smiled, which pleased him.

“Thanks for cooking breakfast for us. Madame M just called me. She’s on her way now.”

“Yes, I know. She called me, too.” He remained fixed in place, the utensil held like the Statue of Liberty’s torch.

Christy cocked her head. “You guys are conspiring. I can tell.”

He set down his spatula and stood in front of her. She could feel his body’s heat. “It’s a deadly game. I needed her help.”

“You?” she asked, stepping back to a cool distance.

He looked at his feet and slid his palms into his front pockets, then shrugged his shoulders. “I had hoped you would come see me last night.” He raised his blue eyes to hers. They watered. He licked his lips and focused on hers. She wished now she was wearing pink, not red.

“Tom.” Christy stopped. Her words were going to come out harsh, and that wasn’t what she wanted. “Look, I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night. I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”

“But we already have one.”

She looked down.

I’ve used this line. Places reversed.

She looked back up at him and studied his kind face. She could have loved him, at another time and place. But not now. Not after meeting Kyle.

“Yes, and I’d very much like to keep that friendship, if that is possible. I’m grateful for your generosity, Tom, for letting me stay here. But let’s not get carried away.”

It was hard to look at him. His tanned and lean body came close again. He held her face in his hands as he bent down. She was afraid he would kiss her, and she knew she would break away. Could he feel how her spine went stiff?

“I’m sorry, Tom.” She placed her hands over his. She tried to reflect back to him the kindness she saw in his eyes. Without the need.

He pulled her body to his chest and embraced her. “Not to worry, Christy. Just know that I am here.” He kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “But just give me a chance to make you happy.”

She nodded to his chest. But these were not the arms she wanted to be enveloped in.

Will I ever be able to forget him?

They dropped their arms and the awkward silence forced them both to smile. Something was smoking on the stove. He ran to the smoking pan of bacon, which was spattering all over the stovetop. He reached up and turned up the six-foot stainless steel commercial hood fan.

“I know this isn’t good for you. But I love bacon for breakfast sometimes,” he said.

“Yes, thank you. I’m somewhat of an expert on things that are bad for me.”

With the smoke under control, Tom fired up his espresso maker, busying himself with making her a cappuccino. He delivered the little cup and saucer filled with foamed half-and-half and garnished with a little nutmeg—just the way she liked it. And he smiled as she took it.

“Thank you. This is perfect.”

“I am a student of what a beautiful woman desires.” His voice was low and raspy.

Where had he learned she loved cappuccinos? She slipped by him and planted herself at the eating bar. The espresso drink was indeed as perfect as it looked. He’d even sculpted a heart into the creamy foam on top.

Why couldn’t this be Kyle in the kitchen? Why couldn’t we be here, thinking about what we could do today? We could go to Chinatown. Walk along the piers. Eat oysters and warmed olives. Sip wine and watch the Marin Ferry go and come.

Tom turned and she could feel his eyes on her, though her gaze had traveled out the windows toward the bay watching all the little sailboats already out on the dark blue water.

“It’s going to be a lovely day. No fog,” she said as she sighed.

“I ordered it special,” he answered. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to make you happy.”

Christy sipped her cappuccino. “You don’t make it easy, Tom.”

“Nor do you. I look at you, and, well…I think to myself…”

“Are you sure it isn’t just loneliness, Tom?”

“Does it matter?”

Oh, yes. It matters.

Christy couldn’t answer him. She now knew it was not a good idea to stay here. Tom was not picking up the message like she’d hoped. She stood and walked with her cappuccino to peer out the front living room windows. She heard the slam of a car door down below. Madame M’s driver in the black Lincoln was rounding the rear. He stopped, got out, and then opened up the passenger door. Christy noted how frail the older woman was as she extricated herself from the rear seat, refusing assistance from the driver.

Madame M sighed and looked up at the long bank of crisscrossed stairs leading to Tom’s front door. Her initial expression of concern changed when she saw Christy’s face. Her mask, that impenetrable face of steel, came back, and she took to the first few steps like she was a triathlete. But she soon tired. Eventually she made it to the top, even accepting the driver’s assistance.

They ate spinach and mushroom omelets and buttered cranberry-orange scones, and drank more cappuccino and fresh orange juice. Though Madame M was several years older than Tom, the banter between the two was passionate, with all statements taking on a double entendre. They continued with their sexy word play all during the breakfast. Christy found it lightened her mood, took her mind off all the problems that were looming on the horizon. She imagined Madame M had been quite the tease as a younger woman and wondered why she spent so much of her life alone. She’d have been a great partner.

They were ready to leave. Madame M had checked to make sure her driver hadn’t left.

“Tom, could I trouble you for another cappuccino for the road, for Carlo?”

“No problem. Christy, you want to take one, too?”

“No thanks, I’ve had plenty.”

Tom prepared Madame’s espresso drink in a white mug, without the nutmeg sprinkles, and handed it to the older woman with a bag containing the remaining orange scone.

“Just send the cup home with Christy tonight,” he said.

“Oui,
certainement
.”

Christy found it difficult to look into Tom’s blue eyes knowing he would be again asking her to share his bed this evening. And again she’d have to turn him down.

“What time will you return?” he asked, right on cue.

“Oh, well, perhaps six or seven, what do you think, cheríe?” Madame asked. “You want to go to dinner afterwards?”

“No, I’ll just pick something up on my way home.” Christy said.

“I was hoping to be prepared. I wanted to cook for Christy again. I’ve bought everything I need.”

“I will have Carlo deliver her promptly at six, then. That settles it.”

Christy knew Tom was watching her as she stepped out the front door behind Madame M. She hadn’t said goodbye to the man she was going to have to turn down tonight. And this time, she’d have to take the gloves off, to make sure he understood there wasn’t going to be a sexual relationship brewing.