Hot Licks (18 page)

“Nice.” Scott said, earning a shove from Rome this time.

“Do not make me tell you a third time.” Rome growled out.

“What? I was talking about the pool. I’m hot, it looks inviting.”

Gwen didn’t like being the center of attention, and as three big, muscled, attractive men stared at her, she felt totally self-conscience. She could either inch her way to the pool steps and her towel, or dunk below the water to chin level. And because she wanted to dunk, she made her legs move towards the stairs.

“Working out the kinks?” Porter asked, the only male in the vicinity acting like an adult.

“Yes.” She kept her focus on the fluffy green towel, taking the steps carefully so as not to run. “It’s nice having a pool for just that sort of thing.”

“You should probably spend a few minutes in the jacuzzi.”

Which was outside and kept covered when not in use.

No way was she going to be able to saunter past three pairs of ogling eyes to slip into the jacuzzi. Especially not after seeing the dark gleam of desire burning in Rome’s steady gaze when she dared to take a peek.

“Oh, yeah. Hey. And I should join you.” Scott said on a wicked grin. “Wouldn’t want you to drown or anything. Of course then I would be handy for mouth-to-mou-”

Scott’s words ended on a garble as Rome shoved him into the pool. “I’ll kill you.”

Gwen could only gape, which turned into outrage when Porter shoved Rome in the pool a second later. “And I think you need to cool off.”

Porter’s laughter was cut short when Gwen strode up behind him and planted her foot on his ass. When his head cleared the water, he looked up at her in stunned shock.

“What I do?”

“Didn’t anybody ever teach you not to laugh at another’s expense?”

Rome pointed a finger at her. “You got my back.”

Yeah. Yeah, she guess she did.

Porter tried to dunk Rome, who fought back, and then Scott, not one to be left out, threw himself into the mix. The water around them churned and turned an ugly brown color as the dirt from their clothes seeped into the pool.

Oopsie.

“What is going on in here?”

Engrossed in watching the men play fight, though that elbow Rome knocked into Scott’s lip might have had a little more punch behind it then play, Gwen never heard Melinda enter the pool room. At the clear dismay in the tone, Gwen went scurrying for her towel.

“What have you done to my pool?” At the sharp reprimand, all three men stood at attention.

“Well?” Hands on hips, Melinda glared down at her two sons. “Explain this.”

The men all kept their mouths shut, making Gwen think of three naughty boys caught stealing from the cookie jar. It was obvious from their lack of expression that Porter and Rome had been in this position and were unwilling to give anything away. And poor Scott didn’t so much as move as muscle least he bring the wrath burning in Melinda’s eyes down on him.

It made her want to laugh at the sight of three large and in charge dominant males being chastised by a slip of a woman. Except she knew her own head would hang should Melinda swing her gaze Gwen’s way.

“So nobody as anything to say?” After several moments of continued silence, Melinda turned to Gwen.

Who clamped her lips together. But all Melinda said was, “Lance called the house, looking for you. He’d like you to call him back as soon as you can.”

Gwen frowned, tucking the towels ends together over her chest. “He did? How strange.”

“Who’s Lance?” Rome wanted to know.

Melinda turned her steely gaze on her son. “Oh. So know you’ll speak. Well you can just wait, pal, as I’m not through with you. All of you will be cleaning this pool until it sparkles. Got me?”

“Did he say what it was about?” Gwen asked when Melinda looked back at her.

“He wanted to know if we had two rooms available next Tuesday, which of course, we do.”

“Hey.” Rome pushed his way to the edge of the pool.

“Who. Is. Lance?”

Both women ignored him.

Gwen grinned with pleasure. Though they talked regularly, she hadn’t seen him in nearly eight months as he was now in New Mexico and she in Florida. “Really? Lance is coming here?”

Melinda smiled at the excitement on Gwen’s face. The sparkle of something dark and sneaky should have given Gwen some warning, but didn’t. “Sounds like. We spoke for a bit. What an interesting young man, your Lance. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Just as Gwen’s brow furrowed at Melinda’s suggestive tone, Rome roared, “
Who the fuck is Lance
?’

Gwen jumped a foot high, but Melinda only glowered down at her obviously furious son. “Ramon Antonio Felix.

What the hell do you mean by cussing in front of a lady, and your mother no less. Do I need to wash your mouth out with soap?”

Gwen made a beeline for the exit as Melinda continued scolding her son, amused at the irony as the woman peppered her rant with a few mild oaths of her own.

“If you’d stop demanding, you jealous lout, I might have told you Lance is Gwen’s brother. And you’d better wipe that smirk off your face, Porter Nicoli Felix, or you’re next in line.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you have anything to add Scott Franklin Boeing?”

At the door, Gwen risked a look over her shoulder, to see Scott standing as far as he could from Melinda, hands raised at his sides. Porter’s head was down, his smirk still in place. And Rome. He was staring back at Gwen, clearly torn between his respect for his mother and the desire to chase Gwen down. From the heat that singed her all the way across the room he wanted to throttle her. Or kiss her.

Possibly both.

Either way she was making her escape. She blew him a saucy kiss, making his eyes narrow into slits, and slipped from the room.

Gwen frowned at the thick, dark clouds moving in from
the bay, promising another evening of rain. “I thought
Florida was called the Sunshine State,” Gwen muttered up
at the sky.

At the disgruntled comment, Melinda briefly took her
eyes from the road to glance at her passenger. “It is. But it’s
also hurricane season. Afternoon showers are common,
and welcome. Without them we wouldn’t have the
Orchards.”

Gwen conceded that. “Or a really large water bill.”

“Hmmm.”

Melinda braked at a stop sign and then turned right,
barreling down the last seven-mile stretch towards the
Orchards. It was Wednesday afternoon and the two women
were returning home from Panama City, having made the
half-hour trek that morning to run errands. As the B&B

would be full this weekend for a small family reunion,
Melinda had wanted to hit Sam’s Club rather than the
nearby grocery store for supplies. Three large coolers in
the back of the SUV were loaded with perishables and
every imaginable remaining square inch was stuffed with
everything else.

At Gwen’s feet was a bag containing all the
accoutrements of a new phone; two chargers, screen
protectors and even earplugs. A slight disagreement had
ensued in the mall when Melinda insisted on replacing the
phone Gwen had lost while on the job, which Gwen refused.

After an extremely short battle of wills, Melinda had
shrugged her shoulders and left, telling Gwen she’d meet
her at the food court in forty-five minutes.

Gwen should have known better, because also at her
feet was a bag with two new pairs of jeans and a third,
smaller one with two matching bra and panty sets.

Sneaky, speedy Melinda had popped into Victoria’s
Secret
and
Sears while Gwen had finished at the cell phone store, not telling Gwen a damn thing until they were leaving Sam’s Club several hours later.

How many employers
did
that kind of thing? Yet thinking about it know, Gwen had to admit she rarely felt like an employee. Yes, she had to run some decisions past Andreas or Melinda and keep them updated with information, but she also lived with them – at least in the same house – and ate with them, even when there were no guests to entertain.

Like last night for example. The whole family had been in attendance, including Scott, Annie and Bob, sharing a meal, conversation and laughter together. When the subject of Lance’s visit came up, Gwen relayed their conversation, giving the group some background on his slightly irregular job, keeping to the treasure-hunter side of things of course.

He’d asked for permission to not only have pictures of the tunnel and steps – why those interested him Gwen hadn’t a clue – sent to him, but if the family would allow him and a coworker to come out and take a look around. In the meantime he was going to try and get his hands on the original blueprints of the house.

Andreas had scoffed at that, remarking that when they’d done the remodel work he’d tried to obtain the original blueprints from the county and was laughed at. The house was too old, he’d been informed, for them to have any hope of finding the drawings. Though he’d added that while there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of Lance obtaining those prints, he’d be mighty impressed if he did.

Gwen had to bite back a smug smile. Somehow, someway, she knew her brother would find them. He had numerous contacts all over the country who shared the same interest in musty old documents and bringing history, especially secret history, to light. And if curiosity or friendship didn’t get the ball rolling, Lance wasn’t above cajoling and bribery to get his way.

They’d talked for hours, until Gwen started nodding off at the table, undone by the restlessness of the last couple nights. It was Rome who’d noticed first, seemingly alert to her every mood.

It had been a bit suspicion when she’d come down to the table and noticed the only empty chair was the one between Rome and Melinda, who sat at the foot of the table. All throughout dinner Rome found reasons to touch her, and when he didn’t, the hard press of his muscled thigh against her own was a constant reminder of their chemistry.

Arousal, now not just a constant companion but a nagging need, had blossomed from the second she sat down, causing her to be distracted more than once during the meal.

What had been the most confusing part of last night was when Rome walked her to her room, his hand enfolded around hers. Though sleepy, desire continued to kindle with every step they took up the stairs and down the hall to her suite. Where Rome had only given her a chaste kiss, telling her that if he kissed her the way he wanted, he wouldn’t be able to leave her alone, and he needed her to know that what was between them was far more than just sex.

Now, sitting in the SUV with an elbow on the door panel, fingers playing on her lips at the memory of his mouth against hers, Gwen stared at the passing scenery and wondered for the ten thousandth time what Rome was up to.Did he want to date her? Or was he hinting at the mate stuff she’d read about on the internet? She just didn’t know.

For someone who was far too candid about their sexual chemistry, he was extremely hedgy about other things.

Somehow he’d wormed himself under her skin, occupying too much of her thoughts. Sex hadn’t diminished that and in fact only made her crave more.

Gwen slanted her eyes toward Melinda. Yes, Gwen and Rome were both single, healthy, consenting adults, but she still couldn’t help feeling a touch guilty at her very unprofessional conduct with this woman’s son. Part of her wanted to blurt out the truth, but another part reminded her that her private life was her business. After all, neither Andreas or Melinda had told Gwen about their alter egos.

For some perverse reason, that made Gwen smile, which immediately faded when she spied a light green sedan up ahead, parked off the side of the road, its hood up, indicating a problems.

“I also think you need to remain at the house, or
barring that, never be alone.”

Rome’s words from Monday morning came in a rush, followed by the realization that both Dennis and James each had an incident barring them from returning to work.

Tomorrow she would return to work.

“Hmm. I’m not expecting anyone tonight.”

As this road only led to the Orchards, the driver of the stalled car was either lost or an unexpected guest.

Or someone up to no good.

Gwen’s gut twisted as they drew closer and Melinda eased off the gas pedal. “I’m not real sure about this, Melinda.”

“Hmmm.” Melinda only repeated, pushing a button on the dash at the same time. “Andreas, please,” she said when OnStar picked up.

“Well, hello, sweetheart,” Andreas’ husky greeting was intimate enough to make Gwen’s cheeks heat.

“Stop that, darling, I have Gwen with me and your tone is making her blush. But you can use that tone on me all you want later. Olive Oil.”

Gwen might have blushed further at Melinda’s suggestive response, if it wasn’t for her injection of the odd term.

“Olive Oil?”

Melinda angled the SUV into the oncoming lane and came to a stop just ahead of the car where they could see a man hunched over the engine. He lifted his head and smiled at them, appearing relieved and without a speck of menace about him. Brown hair, brown eyes, nothing remarkable. Just a man who was in mechanical distress.

“As in Popeye. I live with a gaggle of overprotective, domineering men who see me as the weak woman. A code word to tell them something might be up.” Using the electronic panel on the driver’s door, Melinda rolled Gwen’s window partway down. “And a phrase that wouldn’t seem odd coming from me.

“Good afternoon, there.” Melinda leaned over Gwen and called out to the male on the heels of her explanation.

“Do you need a hand?”

The man approached, though he remained a short distance from the SUV, as if not wanting to scare the women. It all seemed innocent and sincere, except too much had happened over the last couple of days for Gwen to take things at face value any more.

The man stuck his thumb over his shoulder. “Just overheated. I was on my way to Port St. Joe.”

“Oh. Well then you should know you’re going in the wrong way.” Melinda gave him the proper directions along with a healthy dose of friendly chatter, because one never knew who might turn into a future guest.

Though she’d pasted on a polite smile, Gwen’s eyes shifted from the side mirror to the man, the interior of the car, the trees on the far side of the sedan, and back again.

Her muscles started to ease when the stranger didn’t make any untoward advances and no other soul popped out from anywhere to yell boo.

It was a strange, loud ringing that made her look down, and as she did she caught movement from the other side of the SUV. Movement that hadn’t been there five seconds ago.

A tall, blonde male was reaching for the rear driver’s side door handle, a lecherous grin stretching across his face when he caught Gwen’s shocked expression. Brett, the same blonde she’d seen sporting a pair of fangs only days ago.

“
GO
!” Gwen screeched. “Go, go, go!”

Melinda was already stomping on the gas before Gwen had finished the first syllable, straightening from her position to grasp the steering wheel with both hands.

Gwen heard the brown-haired man let out a curse and jump into action as the SUV suddenly shot forward, fishtailing for a moment until Melinda got the vehicle under control, and on the right side of the road.

Andreas was cursing a blue streak, slamming them with questions as he yelled for someone to get the ef over there.

“We’re safe and only a few miles from home, darling, calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down? How the fuck do you expect me to calm down when you were nearly car jacked?”

Gwen was pressed back in her seat, the fingers of her left hand digging into the leather console, her right hand wrapped tight around the jump bar as Melinda pushed the speedometer to seventy, and then higher. But the woman’s hands and voice were steady as a rock.

Well, it was obvious where Rome got his calm-in-acrisis attitude from. Not his father, that’s for sure.

Gwen dared a look out the back window to see the sedan, not in pursuit, but making a u-turn and heading in the opposite direction. When the SUV hit a dip and went air borne, Gwen swiveled her head forward, holding her breasts as they landed with a bouncing jolt. Melinda swerved to avoid one of the potholes large enough to swallow a car, only to catch the right side tires on another.

Not wanting to loose her tongue, or her lunch as her stomach jumped into her throat, Gwen clamped her lips around clenched teeth. A quick glance revealed the speedometer well over ninety.

“Sorry.” Melinda said as she plowed through another pothole that send them both out of their seats.

Gwen tried to reply positively, but she was pretty sure the sound she made was more of a moan than a noncommittal “that’s okay”.

As they made the final turn into the large lot in front of the Orchards, a large dark gray truck came barreling out of the drive right at them. Tires squealed as both drivers took measures to avoid a collision. Gwen was thrown forward, only to be caught by the tight band of her seatbelt and shoved back in her seat as Melinda stood on the brake, yanking the steering wheel to a hard left. Everything in the back of the SUV slammed against the interior wall and the back of the front seats at the sudden stop. Dust rose in every direction, surrounding them in a thick blanket, and out of that tan curtain, Santos’s red Dodge Ram sprang through, bounding over the curb as he steered around the two stopped vehicles blocking the entryway.

Melinda’s SUV was at an angle to the front of the house, but backwards. Gwen sucked in a lungful of air, only to choke on it as she spied Porter out the windshield, running with incredible speed across the side lawn. He vaulted the six-foot high chain-link fence without pause and jumped into the back of Santos’s truck with the same agility she’d seen him hop the back of one of his horses galloping past him at a dead run.

Melinda’s door was thrown open and not a second later her own was wrenched wide. Rome unsnapped her seatbelt and hauled her to her feet. “Christ, woman! Are you okay?”

Gwen could only blink up at him, too stupefied to process the concern, fear and anger gleaming in deep brown eyes melding into yellowish-green, or the wounded growl of his voice. “Gwen. Say something, dammit.” Hands on her shoulder, he shook her.

Gwen opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“What?” Rome ran his hands down her arms and up again, scanning her from head to toe. “What is it?”

She finally got her voice to function. “None of you should have been given a license to drive.”

Rome’s eyes widened, then he was laughing and kissing her, his tongue thrusting deep in her mouth, hard and hot and demanding. Her legs, already shaky at best, would have collapsed if not for his strong arms that wrapped around her, pulling her against his body until they touched from lips to thighs. Desire flared up at the physical onslaught and she thrust her fingers in his hair, kissing him back with everything she had. All fear and concern about him, about what he might or might not be, whether or not this thing between them was right or not, disappeared under the deluge of emotion that poured into her. She was safe in Rome’s arms. Safe and cherished and wanted.

And by the heavy ridge pressing along her pelvis, the wanting was a driving need. It matched her own. She wanted him now, deep inside her. Now. Filling her up, making her whole, reassuring her that she was alive and safe. And with Rome. Only Rome.

His hands cupped her ass, lifting her so that she instinctively flung her legs around his waist. Lips locked, he moved, heading towards the front door and, oh, please, her bedroom so they could strip their clothes and touch like this, naked flesh to naked flesh.