It's A Wonderfully Sexy Life (18 page)

“Hey, it’s not like Thornton’s been any kind of Don Juan for the past six months. Long red hair, boobs like a centerfold, great ass—it’s her all right, the lady cop. You want her taken out, too. ’Cause if you do, I’ll expect double my fee.”

“No, not yet anyway. I’ll keep you posted on that. For now, just follow her and see where she goes, who she talks to. And don’t fuck it up like you did last night.”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault. It was that bozo Baltimoron you hooked me up with who botched it. And how was I to know a swell would hit the fucking boat just when I got ready to take the shot?”

“I don’t want excuses, I want results.”

“Okay, okay, I’m on it.”

Number of hunky boyfriends saved from speeding bullet and reclaimed from vile harbor waters only to be lost to viperous blue-blooded model thin blonde: one—but how much heartbreak can a girl take?

“Later, Ma. I’m in no mood.”

“So get in the mood and get your butt in here.” Tone softening, she added, “Please, Amanda, it’s important.”

“Okay, but for just a few minutes.” Surrendering to the situation, she headed for the living room.

She couldn’t expect to avoid her parents indefinitely. Though last night she’d promised herself to start apartment hunting the moment Josh was safely back in Boston, for the present she was still living under their roof.

Her mother sat perched on the edge of the vinyl-covered sofa wearing a powder-pink checkerboard apron and a look of determination. A plate of chocolate chip cookies, freshly baked judging from the aroma, was set out on the coffee table.

Predictably, her mother pushed the cookies toward her the moment her butt hit the sofa cushion, but she shook her head. “No thanks, I just had lunch. What’s, uh…what’s on your mind?”

Her mother sat back, causing the vinyl cover to squeak. “Your father and I are worried about you, Amanda. You go off with this young man. For two days—and two
nights
—we don’t hear so much as a word from you, and then all of a sudden here you are, back again only you stay in your room with the door closed like some kind of hermit. You don’t talk to nobody. You don’t even go to work.”

“I’m fine, Ma. I’m just taking some time off. I had vacation coming to me, and I didn’t want to lose it.” It fell far short of being the whole truth but there was truth at its core, so she wasn’t lying, not exactly.

Her mother looked at her and shook her head. Her expression was the same all-knowing look she’d used to coax out a confession when, as a four-year-old, Mandy had crayoned on the walls and then tried blaming it on the dog. Like that day, it was clear her mother was neither satisfied nor fooled. “You think I don’t hear you crying at night? I hear you in there, and I know your heart is breaking. It’s this young man, this Josh person, isn’t it?” Mandy started to protest, but her mother held up a broad-palmed hand, cutting her off. “You think I didn’t see how you looked at him Christmas Day or know that you never came home Christmas Eve night. You don’t really think I bought that cock-and-bull story your pop came up with to cover for you, do you?”

Busted, I am so busted
. If anyone in the Delinski family was detective material, it was her mother, not her.

Mandy hadn’t realized how tightly wound she was until that moment. Like a jack-in-the-box, she sprang off the seat. “Okay, Ma, you win. I spent Christmas Eve and most of Christmas morning in his bed making love with him. I slept with him without benefit of marriage and if that makes me a disappointment in your eyes, a Magdalene, well, I’m sorry about that, but it’s just the way it is. I’m thirty years old and until now, until Josh, I never felt like that before. I didn’t even know it could be like that between two people but now that I do, even though it’s not going to work out, I’m really, really glad I got to experience it even for a little while. There, you have it, my confession. Throw stones or throw me out of the house, whatever you want.”

Expression softening, her mother shook her head. “Oh, Amanda, you’re not a disappointment, and I don’t think you’re bad. I just don’t like to see you hurting is all.” She hesitated and then asked, “But what makes you so sure it won’t work out between you two?”

This wasn’t turning out to be the fire-and-brimstone lecture she’d anticipated. Feeling the knot of tension at the back of her neck begin to unwind, Mandy stopped pacing and sat back down. “Let me get this straight, you know I slept with Josh, and you’re not mad at me?”

For the first time Mandy could remember, her mother actually hesitated. “Well, I’m not going to give you no trophy, that’s for sure, but no, I’m not mad. For those who’d care to count, your oldest brother, Bobby, came a good two months early and still he weighed almost ten pounds. How you figure that happened, huh?”

Oh my God. All her life, she’d thought of her parents as so straight-laced, almost asexual. That they’d apparently engaged in premarital sex was enough to send her sliding off the sofa’s slippery cover.

Dreamy-eyed, her mother stared off into the distance and for once her gaze was nowhere in the vicinity of the velvet painting of the Virgin Mother and Child. “I know it may be hard to believe, but your father was quite the Don Juan in his day.” She pronounced the
J
in Juan as a hard
G,
but it wasn’t Mandy’s place to correct her. “When I first met him, he was going to join the Peace Corps and go overseas to Africa with this skinny hippie girl named Frances who made us all call her Free. Can you imagine?”

Picturing her pop with his outdated sideburns, love handles and Mr. Rogers’ button-down sweaters, Mandy couldn’t imagine any of it. Then again, how well did we really know anyone, including ourselves?

“It’s not that simple, Ma. He’s, uh…got someone waiting for him back in Boston.” She didn’t have the heart to use the word,
fiancée
or to add that the certain someone apparently had gotten tired of waiting and come to Baltimore instead.

Her mother reached for a cookie and broke off a piece. “This woman, does he love her?”

Did Josh love Tiffany? Funny how until now Mandy had never stopped to ask herself that all-important question. Replaying the painful reunion scene in her mind, she remembered him looking shocked but not really happy, certainly not like a man who hadn’t seen the woman he loved in six long months. Now that she thought of it, it had been the blonde who’d kissed him, not the other way around. He hadn’t taken so much as a step toward her or even made the effort to lift his arms to embrace her—details Mandy had been too shocked and upset to process at the time but which now jumped out at her as telling indeed.

Feeling foolish, she admitted, “I don’t know. I, uh…never asked him. I saw them together and I just…I just bolted.”

Her mother looked up from the cookie she was busy crumbling. Holding Mandy’s gaze with the force of her own, she said, “The only reason your pop isn’t living in some grass hut fighting off malaria and pooping parasites is because I fought for him. I fought hard, Amanda. If you want something or someone bad enough, you fight for it. You fight because fighting for it is the same as fighting for your future.”

Feeling tears prick her eyes, Mandy looked away. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“If your heart is telling you this is the man for you, the one, then don’t think too long, Amanda. Don’t think but do.”

The doorbell rang. Taking advantage of the intrusion to mull things over, Mandy got up. “I’ll get it.”

Distracted, she crossed the carpet to the doorway. Her parents’ street was generally pretty safe but it paid to be cautious. Looking out the peephole, she saw a set of broad shoulders encased in a familiar-looking black leather jacket. The caller stepped back, and a crop of thick blond hair, high brow and bedroom-blue eyes came into view.

Heart pounding, Mandy threw open the door and blurted out the first thing she could think of to say. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She led the way up the narrow stairs to her room. Once inside, Josh pulled the door closed behind them. “Nice woman, your mother, though I don’t think she likes me very much right now.”

“That makes two of us.” Turning to face him, she regarded him with folded arms. “You lied to me.”

“I did not lie to you. I didn’t get a chance to say much of anything. You ran out before I had the chance to explain.”

“What’s there to explain?” she said with a shrug as though she couldn’t care less but looking closer he thought her eyes seemed unusually bright like she might be holding back tears. “That woman in the bar, she’s your fiancée isn’t she?” He hesitated, searching for the right words to win back her trust, to win back her. When he didn’t immediately find them, she added, “Okay, I’ll make this really simple for you. Did you or did you not give her that engagement ring she’s wearing?”

He took a step toward her, the soles of his boots sinking into the out-of-date shag carpet. “I did, but I don’t have any intention of marrying her, not now and not ever.”

“Do you always give rock-sized diamond engagement rings to women you’re
not
intending to marry?”

He’d never seen this side of her before, but he sensed the lashing out was a defense to keep him from seeing just how much she was hurting. Reaching for his patience, he took another step toward her. “Okay, yes, I asked her to marry me a year ago and gave her the ring but no, I am not marrying her, not now and not ever.”

Mandy stepped away an equal measure, bumping the backs of her knees against the side of the bed. For a second she teetered, and he thought she might fall back on the mattress—or maybe he was just willing that to happen so he could join her there. Balancing herself, she said, “If you called off the engagement, then why is she still wearing your ring?”

He took note of her firm tone, matched by the firm set of her jaw, and admitted this wasn’t looking good, not good at all. “I never exactly called it off, not officially anyway.”

“Not exactly or not at all?”

“Look, my CFO had just been found murdered and it was looking like I might be next. I couldn’t exactly stick around town to have the big breakup heart-to-heart with Tiffany. Hell, Mandy, I’m in the witness protection program, in case you’ve forgotten. My life isn’t my own and hasn’t been for more than six months. I couldn’t contact anyone back home—not work, not family and certainly not my so-called fiancée.”

He hadn’t meant to speak to her so sharply, but Tiffany’s turning up had rattled him more than he cared to admit. Ever since her melodramatic reentry into his life the other day, he’d asked himself what had ever attracted him to her in the first place and for the life of him, he simply couldn’t see it. Thin to the point of angularity, sharp-eyed and as perfectly coiffed as a department store mannequin, she reminded him of the Madame Alexander china doll his sister had kept on display in her bedroom but rarely ever took down from the shelf—brittle, stiff and prone to breakage.

But what really set Mandy apart from his former fiancée wasn’t any physical attribute such as her hair color or fuller figure but rather her giving nature, her amazing generosity. She was generous in her relationships, generous at work and, to his great delight, generous in bed. Even in the midst of their arguing, he couldn’t quite forget they were alone together in a bedroom, couldn’t seem to stop replaying in his mind the last time they’d made love. She’d gone down on him, pleasuring him with her amazing mouth, her hair sliding like a silk scarf over his thighs. The memory prompted an urgent ache in the vicinity of his groin.

“Yet you apparently made time to acquire a fiancée, to plan a September wedding and a Paris honeymoon.” Her hurt tone sliced through the sensual, perfect memory, bringing him back to the far from perfect present.

“That was before.”

“Before you entered the witness protection program?”

He hesitated. Even though Tiffany was the last woman on the planet he was interested in marrying, admitting she’d cheated on him in his own home, his own bed, amounted to ingesting a pretty hefty slice of humble pie. But if swallowing his pride was what it took to win Mandy back, then so be it.

“No, before I walked in on her doing the landscaper in our bed.”

That got her attention. Her pretty mouth dropped open and her big doe-like eyes looked poised to pop. “Are you saying she cheated on you?”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Before I left Boston to come here, I stopped by the house to let her know what was going on. It was a risk, a stupid risk, but I couldn’t bring myself to just go off and leave her thinking I was dead. I put my life in danger because I didn’t want her worrying about me when the truth was she couldn’t have cared less if I was alive or dead. Can you believe that? Pretty stupid, huh?”

“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, eyes searching his face. “Pretty wonderful, actually. Too bad Tiffany obviously didn’t come close to appreciating what she had in you.”

He hesitated, more moved than he cared to admit. “Thanks.”

“What…what did she say when you caught her?”

“She didn’t say anything or at least if she did, I didn’t stick around to hear it. I ran out just like you did the other day. Until she showed up in the bar last night, I honestly thought she knew it was over between us. Then suddenly there she was acting like nothing ever happened and for a minute, I guess I froze. I thought she was out of my life for good, but it turns out we’re roommates.”

“Roommates?”

He nodded, feeling his frustration well up all over again. The one saving grace of being under 24/7 lockdown was he would have gotten to spend all that one-on-one time with Mandy. If that were still the case, he wouldn’t have traded his crappy one-room apartment for a suite at the Ritz Carlton, but now Tiffany had come along and spoiled even that, their last few days together.

“Until they take me back to Boston for the trial, I’m stuck with her though not by choice. Believe me when I say I’d like nothing better than to kick her out, but I can’t. Now that she’s made contact, letting her loose is just too dangerous. Whoever is after me knows who she is but they probably don’t know we’re broken up. They could use her to try and get to me. Whatever she has coming to her, no one deserves that.” Feeling as uncertain suddenly as a teenager about to knock on his prom date’s front door, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “See what comes of accepting invitations to coffee from strangers—nothing good apparently.”

“Nothing good, is that what you really think?” She looked up at him, smile tender. “Is that what you call making love to me like I’ve never been made love to in my whole life, making me feel things I didn’t even know I was capable of?” She crossed the remaining few feet of carpet toward him, stride catlike and subtly sexy. “Only it wasn’t just any old coffee, it was café mocha, as I recall, with extra whipped cream. I also seem to recall that it was entirely satisfying and definitely delicious, surpassing my highest expectations.” Coming up to him, she stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth over his, a light closed-mouth kiss that set his heart pounding and other portions of his anatomy stirring to hot, hard life. “Hmm, definitely delicious.” Licking her lips, she stepped back. “In fact, I’d have to say it’s even better than I remembered.”

Feeling his erection rocket to full hard-on, he ventured his first real look around the room. High school trophies, stuffed animals and a doll with a faded yellow dress shared shelf space with plaques, framed photos and a community service award. Turning back to Mandy, he said, “Ever fooled around in here before?”

She looked over his shoulder and shook her head. “Um, not exactly.”

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” He had a pretty good idea, but he wanted to hear her say it.

“Not with another person anyway.”

The smile she sent him was both sexy and shy, making him want to throw her down on the bed to fuck her fast and hard and hold her gently against him and make tender love to her all at the same time. Either way, he wanted her so very badly.

He found her waist with his hands and pulled her against him. Shifting his hips, he rubbed his pelvis against her, letting her feel just how much he desired her, needed her. “As they say, there’s a first time for everything.” He leaned in to kiss her.

From downstairs, a maternal voice rang out, “Amanda, would you and your
guest
like some apple strudel? I just took it out of the oven.”

Like guilty teenagers, they broke apart. Mandy turned her head and called down, “No thanks, Ma, we’re good.” Sending Josh an apologetic look, she said, “Sorry. That would be one of the many joys of living home with the folks. By the way, this is a temporary situation. My New Year’s resolution is to start apartment hunting ASAP.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Well, I don’t want you thinking I’m some kind of perpetual parental freeloader like Matthew McConaughey’s character in
Failure to Launch
or something.”

He shook his head, smiling in spite of the seriousness of their situation. But that was the magic of Mandy. No matter how dire things were, she could always get him to smile.

“I don’t think of you that way at all. I know you lost your life savings a couple of years ago and that you’re working on rebuilding.” Hands on her shoulders, he held her at arm’s length, thinking how natural she looked and smelled, appreciating that she didn’t wear cloying perfumes or heavy makeup to mask the essence of the beautiful being she was. “For now, what I’d really like is for you to come back to my apartment with me. You’re not safe, either.”

Her eyes widened. “Josh, we just can’t stroll out the front door. The hitter could be out there now, waiting.” Casting her gaze away, she added, “Besides, won’t your apartment be a little crowded, with um…the three of us?”

Cupping her chin in his hand, he coaxed her into looking back up at him. “There’s a decent-sized closet where Tiffany can hang out with the other coat rack—sorry, just joking—sort of.” He winked, feeling lighter now that he’d unburdened himself to her. “As for getting out of here and back safely, don’t worry, we’re covered.”

“We are?”

“Uh-huh.” He let her go and walked over to the window. Pulling back the lacy curtain, he looked down onto the street, checking that the black sedan was still parked out front. It was. Being a “valuable commodity” to one’s government was a pain in the ass, but the status of federally protected witness did carry certain privileges. Gesturing for her to join him, he said, “Meet Special Agent Walker and Special Agent McKinney, my own personal Men in Black.”

Mandy stepped up to the window. Standing beside him, she followed the downward direction of his pointed finger. Biting at her bottom lip, she said, “It occurs to me your FBI buddies might be extremely useful in helping to put a little plan of mine into play.”

For the first time since they’d cleared up the fiancée issue, he felt anxiety tighten his gut. He turned away from the window to look at her. “What kind of plan exactly?”

“As they say, sometimes the best defense is a good offense, so I figure the best way to keep the hitter from striking again is to find him first. I have it on very good authority that a suit with a Boston accent has rented a private room in a downtown club for tomorrow night, and I’m signed on to be the new cocktail waitress.”

He shook his head. “No way am I letting you put yourself in any more danger for me than you already are.”

The water taxi episode more than illustrated how brave she was. Every time he thought of how she’d selflessly thrown herself atop him, a chill ran down his back.

Placing a gentle hand on either side of his face, she lifted her long-lashed eyes to his. “Josh, you said yourself whoever attacked the water taxi knows all about me, about…us. I meant what I said the other day in the car. We’re in this together.”

“But you’ve said yourself what a small town Baltimore is. If you know the criminals by face, then the reverse must hold true.”

She dismissed his objections with a toss of her red curls. “It’s no big deal—really. With the right wig and makeup, my own mother wouldn’t recognize me. Okay, maybe my mother would but nobody else. The thing is, since I’m not assigned to the case, not even supposed to know it exists, right now I’d be going in without departmental support. What do you think the chances are of your two friends helping us out, making sure we get the backup I need if…well, if I need it?”

Us
—there it was again, a simple two letter word but fraught with meaning. It was too early to tell whether or not he’d like her plan but he definitely liked the sound of
us.
For the first time since the attempted hit the day before, Josh found his smile. “I’d say that if they want a certain federal witness to go through with testifying, the chances fall somewhere between good and excellent.”