Distracted (12 page)

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Authors: Madeline Sloane

Tags: #romance, #love, #travel, #love story, #pennsylvania, #key west, #florida, #artist, #sailing, #washington, #cabin, #washington dc, #outer banks, #lake, #sailboat, #marina, #sexy romance, #sexy love story, #catamaran, #sexy contemporary romance

BOOK: Distracted
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They walked, hand-in-hand, to the top of the hill and
stopped. Sunlight sparked off of Breakthrough Lake and, in the
distance, small boats sporting white sails dotted the far
shore.

“That’s the camp where Samantha is. I worked there a
couple of years,” Erin said. She tugged at his hand, “Come on.”

They walked down the hill towards a small, rustic
cabin. Erin stepped up onto the porch.

“This is our cabin. Daddy and Mom always brought us
here on the weekends during the summer. It was like taking a
vacation from the farm, although Daddy could still walk home and
take care of the animals. This is where Mariah taught me how to
swim and how to sail.”

“What did your parents do here?”

“Oh, they relaxed. They fished. Mom read a lot. She
never went anywhere without a book.”

“What did your Dad like to do?”

“Well, he had to go home every day to feed the
livestock, so that took a few hours. He loved to nap in his
hammock. He also cooked. Mom would catch fish all day, then he
would fry it. He makes the best hush puppies I’ve ever tasted.”

“Sounds like a nice life.”

“It was. I had a good childhood and a great family.
No hidden demons.”

“You’re very lucky.”

“I know. I don’t take it for granted. I wish everyone
could have had the same kind of childhood. At night Mariah and I
would climb out on the roof and watch the stars. They’re so bright
and so close here. Wait until you see them.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

* * *

 

Back at the farmhouse, the kitchen screen door
slammed shut.

“Ben! Don’t let the door slam,” Mariah yelled at her
youngest son. “And wipe your feet.”

Ben Chappell enjoyed being the only teen at home.
Well, almost a teenager. With Sammy at camp, he had exclusive
rights to the Xbox. Sure, he had a few extra chores to do, but he
was enjoying his summer of freedom.

“Ben, come here,” Mariah called to her youngest, who
had already sat down in front of the television and was turning on
his video game. Sighing, he tossed the game controls aside and
struggled to his feet. “I’m coming.”

“What?” He slouched into a chair at the kitchen
table. Mariah gave him the “evil eye,” her right eyebrow shooting
up and her lips a grim line.

“Okay, stop,” Ben said, crossing his fingers at his
mother and sitting up straight in the chair. “Yes, Mother
dearest?”

“Your Aunt Erin is here and she’s brought a friend. I
want you to be on your best behavior. She’s working on a book and
they need a quiet place. They’re going to be using the cabin at the
lake while they’re here, so you stay out of there. You
understand?”

 

“Sure. I’m not going to bother them. I don’t care
what they do.”

“Just make sure you stay out of their way. They’re
staying here tonight so be polite at the table. Keep your clothes
off the bathroom floor, and don’t leave the television on too loud
or too late.”

Great, Ben thought, a perfectly good summer without
Sammy and Tom and now Aunt Erin had to ruin it. “I’m not eating
dinner here tonight,” he said. “Remember? Me and Tommy are going to
Peachy’s Arcade and then having pizza.”

“Tommy and I,” Mariah corrected, then continued, “And
another thing -- I think they like each other.”

“So?”

“Okay, more than like. I think he’s her boyfriend,
too.”

“What about Aidan?”

“They’ve been divorced for more than a year.”

“Yeah, but don’t they still live together?”

“Yes. Not like that, though. Wait a minute…how old
are you? What do you know about people living together?”

“Mom, give me a break. I’m not an idiot. Can I go
now?”

“Just do what I say. You’re not too old for a
whipping.”

“Mom.”

“There’s always a first time. Now go. Leave me alone.
And leave them alone.”

Ben went back into the darkened living room and
shoved his new Halo game into the Xbox. Erin and her new
“boyfriend” were already forgotten.

 

* * *

 

While Spence walked the lakeshore, Erin opened the
cabin windows letting in the fresh air. She peeked in all of the
cabinets, checking out the food situation. She found a few staples,
such as flour and sugar, in plastic containers, and a few bottles
of wine. Over the sink, brightly colored fiesta ware lined the
wall. The cabin’s furnishings were so old, they were back in
style.

“Wow. This is Retro,” Erin said aloud.

The counter sported a chrome toaster from the 1950s,
a blender (Mom’s penchant for Margaritas), and a waffle iron. All
were old and heavy.

The aqua refrigerator hummed, still running smoothly.
The only thing inside was an open box of baking soda. Going to need
some supplies, she thought.

The cabin’s floor plan was simple. It had one
bedroom, one bathroom, and a great room that served as a kitchen,
dining and living room. When they were young, Mariah and Erin had
slept on cots on the screened porch. All of the furniture was the
same as she remembered except for the new sleep sofa. Mariah and
Jerry had purchased it for Tom when, as he grew older, he refused
to spend summer nights on the porch with Sammy and Ben.

“So is it livable?” Spence asked, stepping through
the open door.

“Sure. Mariah’s family uses it during the summer, so
everything works and is fairly clean. This is the first time it’s
been opened this year, so it’s a bit musty.”

“What’s next?”

“I’ve got to go to the store and get some supplies. I
guess I should make a shopping list. We should get a coffee pot,
too.”

She pulled a reporter’s notebook from her back pocket
and slid an ink pen out of its wire coils. She sat down on the sofa
and patted the cushion next to her.

“Here, sit down. Tell me what you want.”

Spence didn’t hesitate. He dived onto the couch and
laid his head on her lap, curling an arm around her neck.

“Baby, you know what I want.”

“No, silly,” Erin said bending closer to his face.
She closed her eyes anticipating the touch of his lips. “I mean
from the store,” she whispered.

“I know what you mean. Kiss me.”

“One kiss. Then help me make a list,” Erin
conceded.

“One kiss it is,” Spence said. His right arm pinned
against the sofa, he grabbed a handful of her soft hair and pulled
her head back, baring her creamy throat. With his left hand, he
began unbuttoning her shirt.

“Hey, I said one kiss.”

“Give me a minute. I’m getting there.”

Erin turned her head and kissed his wrist, her lips
against his pulse. She closed her eyes as he unclasped her bra
(darn those front enclosures! Okay, maybe not) and softly stroked
her breasts.

“Is it a kiss if it’s here?” Spence asked.

“Mmmmmmaybe.”

He nuzzled the cleft between her ribs and then traced
a path back to her breast, his tongue hot and wet.

“Make up your mind. Quick.”

“Umm, no.”

“No what? No, it’s not kiss, or no, you won’t make up
your mind?” he murmured.

“No, it’s not a kiss.”

Erin grabbed his ears and pulled his mouth onto her
breast. She could feel the heat building between her legs. “Better
stop.”

“You said one kiss. I haven’t kissed you yet.”

Erin tried to capture his lips, but he turned his
head.

“You’re so smart,” she whispered into his ear, then
softly biting it in spite. Spence retaliated, biting her
nipple.

“Ow! Meanie.”

Spence murmured against her skin, “Let me make it
better.”

Her shirt swung open, her breasts free from the
silky, skimpy bra. What a dilemma, she thought. Then, she stopped
thinking. “You’re good.”

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

“Kiss me. Please.”

 

* * *

 

That evening, Mariah watched as her sister and the
artist strolled through the pasture towards the house. The sun
bathed them in glorious shades of blue, mauve, and orange.

They were holding hands and laughing as they made
their way through thigh-high wildflowers. Spence stopped, picked a
purple coneflower and tucked it in Erin’s hair.

“Work, my ass,” Mariah said to Marsh. “Wish I had a
job like him.”

The dog’s tail thumped twice against the wood floor.
He was used to Mariah talking aloud. It was a comforting sound and
often meant she would toss him a treat. Jerry, who had caught his
wife’s words as he passed the hallway, followed her gaze out the
window.

He smiled, and then quietly came up behind Mariah. He
slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. Sex
certainly is infectious, she thought, and she turned in his arms
and kissed him deeply.

“You want your dinner?” she asked.

“What’s behind Door Number Two?”

She smiled at her husband. Taking his strong,
calloused hand in hers, she led him out of the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Erin opened a bedroom door, flicked on
the light switch and stood aside.

“This is your room. I’ll be in Sammy’s room. It used
to be mine, and since she’s at camp I’ll be using it again.”

Mournfully, Spence glanced at the bed, then at Erin.
Then back to the bed.

“Baby, aren’t you sleeping with me?”

“Calm down, tiger. Today was an exception. You’re
back on rations. We’ve got work to do.”

“I’ll go on strike.”

“You can’t do that. This isn’t a democracy. You’ve
signed a contract and already spent your deposit. We are going to
turn out ten pages a day, regardless. We came here to clear our
heads and quit acting like rabbits.”

Spence sat on the bed, dejected. “I can’t believe
you’re cutting me off.”

“It’s a distraction and it’s impeding your progress,”
Erin said.

Spence, pretending to be hurt, looked away.

“Now stop that. The bathroom is down the hall, first
door on the right. If you need anything, my room is next to
it.”

“Where do your sister and her husband sleep?”

They have the north wing. They’ve taken down several
walls and created a master bedroom and bath. It’s very luxurious.
Do you want to see it?”

“No thanks. I don’t intrude in other people’s private
space.”

“You intrude in mine whenever you want.”

“Your space is mine.”

He pulled her between his knees, wrapping his arms
around her hips.

“You’re not the boss of me,” she said, melting
against him as he caressed her, sliding his fingers under her shirt
and up her back. She leaned forward and pulled his head to her
breasts. He nuzzled her nipples through the fabric, grabbing her
shirt in his teeth and pulling a button open.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Erin teased. “It’s bedtime and you need
your rest. We have to get up early tomorrow and get to work.
Remember, Patricia’s breathing down my neck to get this project
done.”

“I just want one …”

“Sorry. No can do,” she pulled away and walked to the
door. “Goodnight, Spence.”

 

In her old bedroom, Erin sat on a chaise and kicked
off her flip-flops. She leaned against the wall and sighed. Oh,
that gorgeous man, she thought. It wasn’t fair. He was too
handsome, too funny and smart. And, too good in bed, she added. She
closed her eyes and hugged herself, smiling.

After a few moments of self satisfaction, Erin opened
her eyes and admired the room. The walls had long been stripped of
the flowered wallpaper of her youth and replaced with blue paint.
Posters of sports figures plastered the walls. Spectacular
photographs of people snowboarding, skateboarding, surfing, kicking
soccer balls and shooting baskets dominated, although there were a
few hunky singers and actors in the mix.

A portrait sat on the dresser. Erin picked it up and
lovingly looked at the Chappell family. Mariah and Jerry flanked by
their children, Marsh the dog and Sammy’s cat, Mr. Jinks. They
looked so happy. Erin ached with sweetness of the scene and her own
desire for a family like Mariah’s.

A light rap at the door startled her out of her
reverie.

“Go away, Spence.”

“It’s not Spence,” Mariah whispered.

“Oops. Sorry.” Erin quickly opened the door.

Mariah noted the framed photograph in Erin’s
hand.

“This is beautiful,” Erin said, placing it back on
the dresser. “You’re so lucky.”

“Thank you. It’s hard sometimes, but it’s always been
and always will be the best part of my life.”

Erin put her arms around her sister and leaned her
head against the taller woman’s shoulder. Mariah patted her
arm.

“I wanted to make sure you had everything you need.
I’m sorry I assumed you two would be sharing a room. I, uh, thought
that you, uh …”

Erin giggled. “I know. It’s hard to explain. I’m not
sure I even know what’s happening. I need my own space,
though.”

Mariah, spotting an opening, sat down on the chaise.
She smiled encouragingly.

Erin sat on the bed and embarrassedly studied her
nails. “Like I said, it’s hard to explain. I got a call from one of
my regular publishers. They have a contract with this artist, a
recluse who needed help finishing a book. Seems he gets distracted
easily and wasn’t meeting his deadlines. The project is very
important to them.”

Mariah smiled again and nodded.

“The arrangement was fairly straightforward. I was
hired to be a live-in nanny, of sorts, an editorial nanny. That
means I keep him on target, help him with his outlines, take
dictation, clean up his rough drafts, and make him stick to a word
count.”

Mariah nodded again, patiently waiting for the juicy
bits.

“It was fine, at first. I left Aidan in charge of the
apartment. He hasn’t talked to me since the first say of the
assignment. You know, he’s still looking for a place, so I’ve let
him use the second bedroom for awhile. It’s hard to find nice
apartments at a reasonable price in D.C. I leased a car and drove
out to the Outer Banks, to an island called Ocracoke. It’s
spectacular. Birds everywhere.” Erin’s face became dreamy as she
described the house.

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