Passionate Bid (3 page)

“I don”t know Joanie”s reasons, but I”ll find out.” Georgina made a good point. Why would Joanie keep sending back the divorce papers he had sent her unsigned if she didn”t want something in exchange? He”d find out what it was. If her demands were reasonable—he”d give them to her just to earn his freedom. “My trip to Bend, Oregon will set things right between Joanie and me.”

“Then go and do it.”

Julian smiled. Oh yeah. He could tell she was considering his plea for her to stay. “Will you be here when I get back?”

“I like you, Julian. I really thought we had something going here. But…you have a wife.”

“She won”t be when I come back.”

“Are you sure?”

“I”ll make sure of it.”

“Good. Well, go see your wife, make her sign the papers, and see to it that she”s not going to knock on your door for the rest of your life. When you accomplish all that, call me. Then we”ll talk. You know where to find me.” Georgina cupped his sac, massaged him gently before wrapping her long fingers around his shaft.

“You don”t have to go back to your apartment. Stay here with Grandma.”

“Oh, I love Grandma and I like it here. But like I said, until you find yourself a free man, I”ll have to worry about Joanie coming behind me with a pair of scissors to cut my hair. Angry wives and soccer moms are horrible. I can”t and I don”t want to deal with scorned wives. Gosh, I can”t believe she wouldn”t set you free. I”ll be in my own apartment. I”ll miss you, of course, and your sweet grandma. She bugs me with her requests to I read that book from ancient places like I”m a news reporter, but I like her.”

“Grandma bugs you?”

“I don”t mean that in a bad way. But yeah, she bugs me, especially when she asks me to read her boring books. Still, I tried to read them because she”s sweet.

Tell her that I”ll visit her all the time.”

An image of Joanie reading to his grandma formed in his head as if it only happened yesterday. The first time he”d met her, Joanie was sitting on a chair, back straight, feet together, reading his grandma”s favorite book. She read as if she”d been doing it all her life. He was actually impressed with the obvious confidence the seemed to surround her. He remembered liking her melodic and soft voice.

Almost like listening to books on tape. She read with emotions and proper dictions.

He had been watching her for quite some time before she finally noticed him. When she looked up, he greeted her with a wink. He remembered Joanie”s face turning beet red, her jaw slackened, dropped the book, and her dark green eyes grew even bigger behind her glasses as she stared at him. He laughed at her reaction so loud he woke his grandma up. After that day, whenever they would see each other or he”d find her reading to Grandma, she would react the same way with or without him winking—bright red spot would paint her cheeks and she”d stumble on the words she was reading.

His presence, he realized, had made her uncomfortable so he tried to make himself unnoticed whenever she came to read to Grandma in the afternoon. He couldn”t understand her reaction to him. But whatever her reason was, he didn”t give a fuck. To his grandma who suffered from macular degeneration, Joanie was a godsend. To him, she was a big mistake.

“Sonnets from the Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”

“Who?”

“Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Grandma loves her poems. The book was a gift from my grandfather. Grandma is a romantic at heart.”

“Just like you. Well, Julian. I love you, sweetheart. But I don”t like sharing anything with anyone, especially a greedy wife. And yours is obviously greedy because she won”t let you go free.”

“All I ask is for three days. I”ll be back a free man, and we”ll continue with what we have right now.”

“You mean our endless humping?”

Julian cupped her mound, dipping the tip of his middle finger inside her warm and juicy entry. “Yes.”

“Hmmm…I like us, too.”

“But I”m married.”

“Yes.”

He untangled himself from Georgina”s long limbs and got up to use the bathroom. He chucked his used condom in the toilet, flushed it down and grabbed a washcloth. After washing himself, he brought the towel to bed.

Georgina eyed him like a hungry lioness. Her arms stretched above her head and one leg bent, moving from side to side.

“You”re like a beautiful canvas. I couldn”t get enough of your beauty.”

“Come here, Leonardo.”

Julian laughed. “I wish I could paint like him.”

“Don”t care if you can”t paint because you can really fuck good.” As soon as he stretched his body beside her, Georgina rolled on top of him and started kissing her way down his length. She stopped when her mouth was right above his hard cock. “I”m going to miss you. So when are you leaving?”

Without waiting for an answer, she began sucking the tip of his cock.

Joanie opened the Subaru”s passenger back door and reached in to unbuckle Sam”s car seat. Her daughter blinked her sleepy eyes, then she leaned forward to look around. Most likely looking for her papa. “Hey there, little bug. Got a good nap?”

“I want Papa.” Sam”s lips thrust out, her chin quivered as she rubbed her eyes on her dolls head she always tucked under her armpit. “I want Papa,” she repeated.

That makes the two of us.

Sam”s trembling tiny voice gripped her heart. Her chest hurt so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. She desperately needed her father, to cling to him.

Like Sam, she wanted her dad, too. If only she could make Sam”s wish come true.

Tamping her emotions down, she forced a smile and tickled Sam”s chin. “Bug, remember what I told you? Papa”s in the big ship now, sailing away.” She told Sam this little white lie many times. Still, Sam would ask and look for her papa as soon as she woke up from a nap, but especially when she was tired.

“Yeah, but I want the ship to come back.” Sam”s sleepy, big blue eyes brightened with tears.

Poor thing. They both missed her papa, but nothing in this world could make the ship from come back. “I miss him, too, bug.” A big lump formed in her throat as her heart ached with pain. I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. Not in front of Sam. She hated lying to her little baby, but it was the best thing she could do right now.

Sam wouldn”t understand anyway. Pasting a smile on her face, she tried to divert Sam”s attention the only way she knew how. “Hey, how about we go for a walk in the woods and visit the bridge Papa had built for you?” Wiping the tears that began to fall with the backs of her hand, Sam asked,

“Can I bring my net?”

“Of course.”

“And the tank?”

“And the tank.”

“I”m gonna catch a big butterfly.”

“And what will you do after you caught it?”

“Release him again.”

“What a good bug.”

Joanie felt her shoulders sag from relief and thanked her stars her daughter was easily entertained. Working at the bar and taking care of Sam was finally taking a toll on her. She was tired all the time and felt irritable. And Sam”s constant question about her papa wasn”t helping her disposition. Lucky for her, Sam”s melancholy about missing her papa could pass as quickly as a butterfly flapped its wings.

Walking and playing in the property Sam called Sam”s Woods always helped divert Sam”s mind off her papa, at least for a short time, while she chased bugs and anything that flittered or jumped. Thank God for little mercies.

Joanie lifted Sam off her seat and put her down on the ground. “You know what, bug?”

“What, Mama?”

“I think, this time, we should leave Dolly home.”

“Noooo! She”ll be sad without me.” Sam hugged her doll as if it were a lifeline before smoothing the braided cotton hair. “Uh-huh, she”s gonna be sad. Right Dolly?”

Joanie wasn”t in the mood to argue with her three-year-old daughter. Not today, not with her feet screaming for a good rub. “Fine. But you will be sad if you lose her.”

“I won”t lose her, Mama. Promise.”

We shall see.

Dana, her best friend, said a walk in the woods would be good for Sam”s spirit. And she was right. Joanie had noticed that in the woods, Sam”s attention always focused on things adults never paid attention to. Like how a leaf resembled a wing of a dragon or how mud sticks to the sole of her slippers.

Watching Sam run around the spacious property with her net catching butterflies and harmless bugs, giggling, her eyes shiny from laughter eased her pain a bit, and she was sure Sam”s loneliness as well. The woods, like a therapeutic medicine, helped relieve their pain. Not to mention the fresh air helped Sam”s lungs as well. As long as they had the backpack with them, she felt comfortable letting Sam spend time in her woods.

Sam”s Woods.

Nauseating despair enveloped Joanie”s whole body like a thick, heavy cloak smothering her. The small property wouldn”t be Sam”s for long. What would she tell her when the new owner started building up a fence around the property?

Just like the housing market, divorce lawyers and every business around the country, she too suffered from the worldwide economic meltdown. Her Garden Gate Studio took a nosedive, and she couldn”t afford to pay for the rent anymore.

A day after she buried her father, she had to close her gallery. There was nothing more terrifying than the thought of not having food or shelter for her daughter. And worse, no business meant no insurance. So last week, she had made a decision—put up the property for sale. The money she”d make would pay for Sam”s medication and the loan her father had taken from the bank. She could pay off the credit card company, too.

With the power of the Internet, more than a handful of interested buyers called. Two days ago, one showed sincere interest in buying the property. A horse trainer. It was amazing how ads spread like fire over the world wide net. Maybe she should take photos of her paintings and post them on the Internet. She might sell them quicker that way.

Carmen Smith, a Windermere Agent with raven dark hair piled high like the singer Amy Winehouse”s hair, came by again yesterday and took additional pictures of the property. She said her client was in Dublin closing another deal. It would take five days before he could come and look at the property in person. But he liked the property and agreed with the offer based on the digital pictures. He would finalize his decision this week. Once he signed the papers, he wanted to remove the barbwire fence and replaced it with concrete walls, so Joanie would have to rush to remove whatever she had stored in the property.

Her dad had had his old truck parked in the woods, but he had given it to his friend, a mechanic, who had hauled it to his shop and gutted it. Her dad had said he wanted the woods clean for Sam.

Carmen”s news should have sent her into a state of extreme happiness, but she felt the opposite. Losing the woods would be like losing Dolly to Sam. But she had to sell it. They needed food more than a place to catch butterflies.

Joanie opened the front door and let Sam in first. “Go get your net.”

“Yippee!” Sam took off, her little feet making slapping sounds on the floor.

If she could only find a way to keep the woods…God, she knew how important that place was for her daughter, but she didn”t have a choice. They needed the money as badly as she needed air to breathe.

Stepping into the house, she made an assessment. As soon as the buyer cut the check, she”d call Paul, the neighborhood carpenter.

Last time Paul looked in the attic, he found lots of moisture, most likely from the leaky roof that caused mold to form and spread in their bathroom and into the kitchen ceiling. A problem that would cost her hand and foot. She must replace the roof and the ceiling. He added that the cracked windows should be replaced, too. Not only were they foggy, they were useless from stopping the cold draft from coming in.

Mold and cold draft. Two things that would make Sam real sick.

Yes, windows and the leaky roof must go. Next, she”d look for a smaller place to rent or buy—if she could afford it—to use as a shop. Waitressing and dancing at the local bar helped pay the bills, but she couldn”t stomach the way customers treated her. She would quit the job once the money was secured in the bank, and she knew for sure that they would have food on the table.

Good lord, Sam”s heart would shatter in pieces if she lost the woods. But she”d rather give it up than see Sam suffer again.

“Mama, I”m ready.” Sam”s striking blue eyes shone from the afternoon suns reflective light. Eyes of her father”s.

Joanie closed her eyes and imagined anything other than the man who haunted her dreams. “Give me a sec, bug. I”ll pack your snacks. Did you have fun at school?”

“Yup. Marcus ate his crayons again. He said the red fire engine crayon taste yummier than the yellow banana one. He wants me to try it, too.”

“Did you?”

“No. Papa said only food goes in my mouth.”

“What a good bug.”

Joanie sighed as the scattered canvases caught her eyes. She loved the smell of paint, but she couldn”t have them around. First, there wasn”t enough room to store them all in the house. Second, Sam”s health. What a mess. If her dad were still around, they would work together on this problem, and she wouldn”t have to dance at the bar because he would still be working as a mechanic. God, as caring as he was, she couldn”t believe her dad didn”t have a life insurance policy. Now that she thought about it, she didn”t have life insurance either. If something happened to her, her daughter would get nothing.

Her throat constricted. She missed her dad so much. It had been two weeks since they buried him, but the pain was as fresh as the night the medic pronounced him dead.

Joanie stood in the middle of the room wishing for her father”s familiar voice to disturb the quietness of the house. Nothing. Their first night without her father cut her deeply, but watching Sam run around the house looking for her papa until she exhausted herself and fell asleep on her papa”s worn black recliner broke her heart in little pieces.

Her dad, Sam”s papa, had been her rock and a solid wall she leaned on. Even during her darkest time, he stood beside her.