Raspberry Crush (24 page)

"Yeah, it is," Seth replied almost absently, sliding his gaze to hers for a brief but intense moment. God, this setting was totally romantic and seductive.... What a waste, considering that Billy had promised herself she wouldn't get involved with Seth again.

"So how's your family?" she asked, anxious to cut some of the tension.

"Um, scattered," he replied. "My brother lives in Alaska, my mom lives in Dublin, I live in Seattle, and our house is in Massachusetts. Something's wrong with this picture."

Smiling gently, Billy thought how lucky she was to have her family so close, even though her mother's idea of conversation involved driving her daughters to the brink of madness in regular fifteen-minute intervals. Sighing, she thought about her family and felt a flush of happiness and gratitude fill her chest, which was warm from the wine already.

"I guess you miss them a lot," Billy said. She'd never met Seth's older brother, Ian, or his father, who'd died years ago, but his mother had always been sweet. "How often do you talk to your mom?" she asked, sipping more of her wine and feeling the effects of the smooth, heavy Shiraz now as it slid thickly down her throat, swimming through her like a wave of heat and going to her head... among other places.

Seth explained that he'd spoken to his mother just the day before, when she'd called to see how the house was coming.

"It looks beautiful," Billy remarked. "When are you putting it on the market?"

"I don't know," he said briefly, but there was a slight edge to his voice. It made Billy wonder if he was having second thoughts about selling the house. Maybe he'd keep it for himself, leave Seattle, and come back to live in Massachusetts forever.

Jesus, she had to slow down on the wine.

"Hey, do you still like to go Rollerblading in Boston Common?" Seth asked, diverting the subject away from his plans, and back to Billy. He sat down next to her on the sofa.

She grinned at the memory of Rollerblading with Seth. Those had been some of their most romantic dates, even though Seth's Rollerblading skills were only decent and Billy's were rocky, at best. In fact, on their third date, when Seth had asked her if she liked outdoor activities, the word "yes" had flown out of her mouth before she'd had a chance to think. Sort of a lie, but she figured it was a harmless one. It'd always reminded her of that Lemonheads song: "I lied about being the outdoor type. I never owned a sleeping bag, let alone a mountain bike."

Anyway, it hadn't taken long for Seth to see through her pretense. He'd been careful with her, encouraging her to hold on to him—to wrap her arms around his waist from behind and grip him as he steered them down Boston Common—and she used to squeeze her eyes shut, but would keep opening them because it was all so fast and wonderful, watching life spin around her.

Of course, Rollerblading after Seth left had never been fun and she gave it up pretty quickly. "I haven't done it in a while," Billy said now. "The last time I tried I was holding on to Pike's leash, thinking we could both get our exercise at the same time..." Seth winced, as though he knew what was coming, and Billy pushed up her pant leg to reveal an ugly, blockish scar just below her knee.

"Oh..." he said, brushing the skin gently with his thumb. "That must've killed."

"Yeah," she said, her breath catching at the sensation of Seth's touch. His fingers were warm and tender when he touched her scar, and he just let his hand linger there, until his eyes darted up and locked with hers.

Billy tried to swallow away the rise of tension as Seth's gaze burned through her and the heat from his hand seeped into her skin and slinked up her leg.

A log dropped loudly in the fireplace, startling them both out of the moment. Seth withdrew his hand, exhaled a breath, and went over to tend to the fire, while Billy sat back against the couch cushions, trying to regain her self-control.

Her blood was boiling—a combination of animal lust and strong wine—and she didn't know how long she could resist throwing herself at Seth tonight. She pulled her legs up until her feet were planted on the sofa cushion, and pressed her cheek against her knees. Acute arousal stirred in her lower body, making her clamp her thighs together to ease the tension, but it wasn't working. Even though Mark had pretty much called a halt to their relationship, Billy still didn't want to fall into bed with Seth. Well, she
wanted
to—madly, desperately, hungrily—but she couldn't let herself. There were just too many emotions tied into sex—
especially
sex with Seth. The smartest thing to do would be to leave and head to the train station right now.

But she stayed on the sofa, inexorably frozen in this warm, insulating moment, as Seth set the poker back against the bricks and the screen back in place. He returned to the sofa, but allowed a bit more space between them this time. With one arm draped along the edge of the couch, he said, "By the way, are you gonna tell me what you were thinking on the boat?"

Huh? What boat?
And who could think straight with Seth sitting so close, emanating a potent sexual energy and looking so damn appealing?

"Oh, right," Billy said, and pushed some still-wet clumps of hair behind her ears. "Did you notice that Ted's copy of
Puss In Boots
was from the Churchill Public Library?"

"No, was it?"

"Yeah, there was a stamp imprint in the back of the book that said, 'Property of CPL.' "

"Oh."

"So that's it."

"What's it?"

"Ted's girlfriend works at the Churchill Public Library."

Seth paused, cinching his eyebrows quizzically. "How do you figure that?"

"It just makes sense," Billy said. "Obviously Ted's relationship with this woman was a secret, because no one in town has a clue about it. The Post-it note asking him to meet was probably just stuck in some random book and passed off to him at the library. Also, the waitress at the Rusty Canoe said that Ted's girlfriend seemed prissy. That fits the librarian theory to a tee."

"Nice," he said, grinning, then sat farther forward. "Okay, I might be buying this. Especially since the library closes at nine, and the note said to meet at nine-thirty—"

"And it takes half an hour to get from the Churchill Public Library to the Rusty Canoe?"

"Yeah, about that."

Smiling, Billy said, "Oh, my God, we're actually getting somewhere!" Laughing softly, Seth agreed it was a possibility, and Billy asked, "So what now?"

"Hmm... I could find out from Sally who's working at the library these days—see if anyone fits the description: prissy and wealthy."

Billy giggled then, a little giddy with the wine, and said, "Seriously, though, if this woman was intimately involved with Ted, she might be able to tell us something about his past. She might even have an idea who killed him, but doesn't want to come forward, because she'd have to publicly admit the affair."

"True. You know what? I wanna call Joe—see what he thinks about all this."

"Okay—oh! I forgot to tell you about Joe." She filled him in on Corryn's run-ins with Joe on the subway and Newbury Street (leaving out the specifics of their misunderstanding, since Corryn probably wouldn't appreciate her nipple being small talk).

With a brief laugh, Seth said, "Oh my God, that was
Corryn
? He'd told me about some brunette from the T." His voice trailed off as he grabbed the phone from the end table and dialed. "Hey, what's up?" he said after a moment. "Listen, I need you to check something out for me."

After he told Joe about what happened at the jubilee—minus Billy's personal reason for looking into it—he asked him to find out whatever he could about Schneider's past. "Maybe he has a record or something—just anything. Call it morbid curiosity. Yes, I know you have a life, you schmuck. Just do it, and call me if you know something, okay? Yeah, okay."

"Oh, and tell him to be nice to my sister," Billy said, smiling, leaning over Seth's shoulder to speak into the phone.

"By the way, Joe, you know that psycho brunette that you couldn't shut up about?" Seth said, grinning. "That's Billy's sister."

After Seth hung up the phone he picked up his wine, and Billy realized she was still perched up on her knees, leaning over him, their faces only inches apart. When he turned to look at her, her eyes zeroed in on his mouth. Parted and wet... sexy and delicious.

Tempting the hell out of her. Like a tongue snaking up her inner thigh and hovering between her legs.

Words died in her throat as his gaze dropped down to her lips, and without warning he slid his hand up under her hair, cupped her nape, and pulled her down to kiss him.

Once their lips touched, Billy felt an immediate spark of pleasure. Moaning softly, she curled her fingers into the fabric of Seth's sweatshirt, tugging and pulling as he opened his soft, hot mouth and flicked the tip of his tongue against hers.

Then, abruptly, she pulled away, because she was losing herself—again. "I-I think we'd better stop," she whispered. "I mean, I think I'd better go."

"I'm sorry," Seth said. He sat back and ran his hand down his face in frustration. "Christ, it's so hard to be near you again and not touch you."

For some reason that admission really turned her on. Weakened her defenses, which were laughable, at best. As she climbed off the couch, Seth rose to stop her. "Wait, why don't you just stay here tonight?"

No—that would be trouble and beyond. Seth was looking around the beach house casually enough, but there was an intensity burning in his eyes, and his voice was thick and almost raspy, as if crackling from the tension that still stretched between them.

"No," she said, shaking her head emphatically because she was also trying to convince herself.

"Why not? Do you have to be at the bakery early tomorrow morning?"

"Eleven," she said.

"So stay."

"But... where am I supposed to sleep?"

"My bed," he said. She gulped hard, fear and excitement coursing through her body at the idea of sharing Seth's room—his bed, his
body.
Her crotch began to sweat.

"I'll sleep in my brother's old room."

Oh.

Well, it didn't make sense for Seth to give up his room, since Billy was the guest, though there was something acutely tempting about sleeping in Seth's bed, tangling in his sheets, inhaling his scent on the pillows, even if he wasn't there. "No," Billy said again. "I mean, thanks for the offer, but this is silly. I'll just go home."

Seth paused, then nodded. "Okay, if you're sure. I'll drive you home."

"All the way to Brookline? You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

"No."

"Why?" he asked with a hint of exasperation.

"Because"—
I really don't want to go—
"you've been drinking."

He barked a laugh. "One glass of wine? Believe me, I'm fine. I'm Irish, remember?"

Rolling her eyes, she laughed nervously. "You're a savage."

Seth grinned. "Seriously, I'm fine to drive, but if you don't feel comfortable..." His voice trailed off for a second, and he set his wineglass down on the coffee table. "Come on, Billy, just stay here. It's pouring out, and you'll have to change trains at Back Bay, anyway."

True—then walk three blocks from the T stop. It was stupid. She knew he was fine to drive; she just didn't want to leave. And right or wrong, she just couldn't get her feet to move. "Okay, so which way to my room?"

* * *

Two hours later, complete restlessness and sexual frustration had kicked in, turning Billy into a sweaty, sleepless ball of raw animal lust. Her mother would be so proud.

The thunder and lightning had finally stopped. Now wind rattled the shutters, and rain rapped rhythmically on the windows. Billy lay staring up at the ceiling, aching for Seth to burst into the room, rip the comforter off her, and climb on top of her—aching to feel him touch her and slide inside her. Well, just plain
aching.
She was past the point of debating whether these thoughts were right or wrong—they were what they were: constant.

Sitting up, she looked across the room and out the bay window that was across from Seth's bed. All she could see were glittering streaks of rain that flickered in darkness. It didn't make any sense that four years had gone by, that Seth had been a memory—not quite a distant one, but still a memory—and now it felt like no time had passed. It felt like they were building up to something, like it had been then, except the sexual attraction now seemed even more palpable and harder to ignore.

Finally Billy flopped onto her back with a sigh. This wasn't working. She sat up, pushed Seth's thick comforter off her body, and headed downstairs. Giving up on sleep, she decided to sit in the family room for a while, maybe finish the wine she'd left there. Maybe the headiness of the Shiraz would make her more tired.

Billy huddled by the fireplace, fighting off a sudden chill. She'd gotten warm in Seth's sweatshirt, so she'd taken it off and left it upstairs. Now she was wearing just his T-shirt and sweatpants. As she looked at the glowing embers, she tried to push thoughts of sex out of her mind. She supposed she was battling more than lust—also fear. The experience she'd had with Ryan had been so paltry, she wondered if she would be able to keep up with Seth between the sheets. Not that she had firsthand experience when it came to Seth's style of making love, but seeing how thoroughly aroused he got from kissing her and touching her breasts, Billy figured he had to be an animal in bed. She shivered at the thought, and suddenly heard, "You okay?"

Her head shot up, and she saw Seth standing there in boxer briefs. He was shirtless, his hair was rumpled, he looked a little scruffy, like he'd just woken up, and in that moment he'd never been more breathtakingly sexy.

Now, scratching his bare muscled chest, he said, "Are you cold? Do you need a blanket or anything?"

"No, I just couldn't sleep," Billy said.

"Me, either."

"What time is it anyway?" she asked, looking back at the fireplace, pretending she was captivated by the remnants of the fire, rather than Seth's half-naked body.