Simply Irresistible (31 page)

“Probably,” Georgeanne answered, wondering why he needed to exercise after last night. They’d made love in several different locations, with the grand finale in the Jacuzzi. She’d soaped him up all over and kissed the places she rinsed. He’d paid her back by sucking drops of water from her skin. Overall, she’d say they both got a real thorough workout. She closed her eyes and thought of his strong arms and sculpted chest. She pictured herself pressed against his smooth back and muscular behind, her hands caressing his hard abdomen, and she felt her stomach go fuzzy.

“Maybe he’ll be back pretty soon,” Lexie said, crunching on her cereal.

Georgeanne opened her eyes. Her vision of John in the buff evaporated, replaced by her daughter eating with her mouth stuffed full of colorful O’s. “Please chew with your mouth closed,” she reminded Lexie automatically. As she looked into her daughter’s face, she felt shameless. Having such risqué thoughts in front of an innocent child was indecent, and somewhere in the world she was positive that it was considered a breach of etiquette to visualize a naked man before morning coffee.

Georgeanne walked back into the kitchen and reached into a cupboard to pull out a bag of Starbucks and a paper coffee filter. John had made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time. He looked at her with hunger burning in his deep blue eyes and made her feel desired. He skimmed his fingers across her skin as if she were made of delicate silk and made her feel beautiful. Sex with John had been wonderful. Within his arms she’d turned into a woman who was confident of her own sexuality. For the first time since puberty, she felt comfortable with her body, and she felt sure of herself as a lover for the first time in her life.

But no matter how wonderful, sex with John had been a mistake. She’d known it as she’d stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom and he’d kissed her good night. She’d felt it in the empty pull of her heart. John didn’t love her, and she was surprised by how much that hurt.

She’d known from the beginning that he didn’t love her. He’d never said it or intimated in any way that he felt anything for her except lust. She didn’t blame him. Her pain was her fault and something she’d have to deal with on her own.

Georgeanne filled the water reservoir on the coffeemaker and pushed the on button. She leaned one hip against the counter and folded her arms beneath her breasts. She’d thought she could love him with her body but not her heart. Now all her illusions were gone, burned away in the light of morning. She’d always loved John. She could admit it to herself, but she didn’t know what to do about it. How could she see him on a regular basis and pretend she felt nothing more than mild friendship? She didn’t know how. She just knew she had to do it.

The telephone rang, startling Georgeanne. The answering machine beeped twice and clicked on. “Yeah, John,” a male voice said from the machine, “this is Kirk Schwartz. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I’ve been out of the state on vacation for the past two weeks. Anyway, as per your request, I’ve got a copy of your daughter’s birth certificate in front of me. Her mother has listed the father as unknown.”

Everything inside of Georgeanne froze. She cut her gaze to the audiotape and watched it slowly turn. “If the mother is still willing to cooperate, then it won’t take much to get that changed. As far as visitation and custody, we’ll talk about your legal rights when you get back into town. The last time we spoke, I believe we decided that the best course of action at the present time is to keep the mother happy until we determine what to do legally. Uhh... I think the fact that you didn’t know about your daughter until recently, and that you make a substantial income and want to provide for her, puts you in a very good position here. You’ll probably be awarded the same custody as if there had been a divorce between you and the mother. We’ll discuss it at length when you get back into town. Talk to you then. ‘Bye.” The tape shut off and Georgeanne blinked. She turned to Lexie and watched her suck a Froot Loop off the back of her spoon hand.

The trembling began in Georgeanne’s chest and work its way outward. She raised a shaky hand and pressed her fingers to her lips. John had hired a lawyer. He’d said that he wouldn’t, but he’d obviously lied to her. He wanted Lexie, and Georgeanne had blithely given him what he wanted. She’d tried to put aside her misgivings and had allowed John the freedom to spend time with his daughter. She’d tried to disregard her own fears because she’d wanted to do what was right for her child.

“Hurry up and finish your cereal,” she said as she turned from the kitchen. She had to get away, get away from his house and from him.

Within ten minutes Georgeanne had changed her clothes, brushed her teeth and hair, and had thrown everything into the suitcases.
Keep the mother happy
... Georgeanne felt sick when she thought about how happy he’d made her last night. Sleeping with her had gone above the call of duty.

After another five minutes she had the car loaded. “Come on, Lexie,” she called out as she walked back into the house. She wanted to be gone by the time John returned. She didn’t want a confrontation. She didn’t trust herself. She’d been nice. She’d tried to be fair, but no more. Her anger fueled her like a gas line to a blowtorch. She let it burn uncontrolled through her veins. It was better to feel the rage than the humiliation and soul-numbing hurt.

Lexie walked out of the kitchen, still wearing her purple pajamas. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Home.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s time to go.”

“Is John coming, too?”

“No.”

“I don’t want to go yet.”

Georgeanne opened the front door. “That’s too dang bad.”

Lexie frowned and stomped out of the house. “It’s not Saturday yet,” she pouted as they headed down the sidewalk. “You said we were staying till Saturday.”

“There’s been a change of plans. We’re going home early.” She belted her into the passenger seat, then laid a shirt, shorts, and hairbrush in her lap. “Once we’re on the highway, you can change your clothes,” she explained as she got behind the wheel. She stared the car and put it in reverse.

“I forgot my Skipper in the bathtub.”

Georgeanne stepped on the brakes and looked over at a sullen Lexie. She knew if she didn’t go back in and get the Skipper, Lexie would worry and fret and talk about it all the way back to Seattle. “Which one?”

“The one Mae gave me for my birthday.”

“Which bathtub?”

“The one by the kitchen.”

Georgeanne shoved the car back into park and got out. “The engine is on, so don’t touch anything.”

Lexie’s shrug was noncommittal.

For the first time since childhood, Georgeanne ran. She ran back into the house and into the bathroom. The Skipper doll sat in the soap dish stuck to the tiled wall, and she grabbed it by the legs. She turned around and almost collided with John. He stood in the doorway with his hands planted on the wooden frame.

“What’s going on, Georgeanne?”

Her heart twisted in her chest. She hated him. She hated herself. For the second time in her life, she’d let him use her. For the second time, he’d caused her such pain she could barely breathe. “Get out of my way, John.”

“Where’s Lexie?”

“In the car. We’re not staying.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because of you.” She placed her hands on his chest and shoved.

He moved, but she didn’t get very far before he grabbed her arm and stopped her from opening the front door. “Do you act this way with the other guys you sleep with, or did I just luck out?”

Georgeanne whirled around and lashed out at him with her only weapon. She whacked him on the shoulder with the wet Skipper doll. The doll’s head popped off and flew into the living room. Her rage boiled beneath the surface, and she felt as if her head were about to pop off just like poor Skipper.

John looked from the headless doll in her hand to her face. His brows were raised. “What’s your problem?”

Inbred southern grace, Miss Virdie’s charm lessons, and years of her grandmother’s polite and proper influence turned to ashes within the inferno of her anger. “Get your slimy hand off of me, you immoral son of a bitch!”

His grip tightened and his eyes bored into hers. “Last night you didn’t think I was slimy. I may be a son of a bitch, but not for what we did together. Last night you were hot, I was hard, and we took care of it. It may not have been the wisest choice either of us has ever made, but it happened. Now, deal with it like an adult, for Christ’s sake.”

Georgeanne yanked her arm from his grasp and stepped back. She wished she were big and strong and could hit him really hard. She wished she were quick with cutting words and could slice his heart. But she was neither physically strong or quick under pressure. “You made sure I was real happy last night, didn’t you?”

He blinked. “ ‘Happy’ is as good a word as any, I guess. Although I’d use ‘sated,’ but if you want to use ‘happy,’ that’s fine by me. You were happy. I was happy. We were both pretty goddamn happy.”

She pointed the headless Skipper at him. “You sneaky bastard. You used me.”

“Yeah, when was that? When your tongue was down my throat or when your hand was down my pants? The way I see it, there was some pretty mutual using going on.”

Georgeanne glared at him through her red haze. They weren’t talking about the same thing, yet it was all tied together. “You lied to me.”

“About what?”

Instead of giving him the opportunity to lie again, Georgeanne marched into the kitchen and rewound his answering machine. Then she hit the play button and watched John’s face as his attorney’s voice filled the silent room. His features gave nothing away.

“You’re making too big a deal out of this,” he said as soon as the tape clicked off. “It’s not what you think.”

“Is that your lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“Then any further contact between us will take place through attorneys.” She was deadly calm when she said, “Stay away from Lexie.”

“Not a chance.” He towered over her. A big, powerful man used to getting his way by the sheer force of his will.

Georgeanne wasn’t intimidated. “You have no place in our lives.”

“I’m Lexie’s father, not some made-up asshole named Tony. You’ve lied to her about me all of her life. Now it’s time she knew the truth. Whatever problems we have between us doesn’t change the fact that Lexie is my little girl.”

“She doesn’t need you.”

“Like hell.”

“I won’t let you near her.”

“You can’t stop me.”

She knew that he was probably right. But she also knew that she would do anything and everything to make sure she didn’t lose her daughter. “Stay away,” she warned one last time, then turned to leave. Her steps faltered.

Lexie stood in the doorway to the kitchen. She was still dressed in her pajamas and her hair still stuck up around her head. Her gaze was locked on John as if she’d never seen him before. Georgeanne didn’t know how long Lexie had been there, but she feared what she might have heard. She grabbed Lexie’s hand and dragged her from the house.

“Don’t do this, Georgeanne,” John called after her. “We can work this out.” But she didn’t turn back. She’d given him far too much already. She’d given him her heart, her soul, and her trust. She wouldn’t give him the most important thing in her life. She could live without her heart, but she couldn’t live without Lexie.

Mae picked up the newspaper on Georgeanne’s porch, then walked into the house. Lexie sat on the couch with a raspberry-and-cream-cheese muffin in her hand while the television blared the theme song to
The Brady Bunch
. Raspberry-and-cream-cheese muffins were Lexie’s favorite and an obvious attempt to soothe the ouchie with sugar. But after what Georgeanne had told her when she’d phoned the night before, Mae wasn’t sure a gooey muffin would make everything all better.

“Where’s your mom?” Mae asked as she tossed the newspaper on a chair.

“Outside,” Lexie answered without taking her eyes from the screen.

Mae decided to leave Lexie alone for now and stepped into the kitchen to make herself a cup of espresso. Then she headed out back and found Georgeanne standing beside the brick porch pruning her Albertine roses and tossing the dead flowers into a wheelbarrow. For the last three years, Mae had watched Georgeanne diligently coax the tangerine roses up the pergola framing her back door. A profusion of pink foxglove and lavender delphinium crowded flower beds at Georgeanne’s feet and crammed the garden along the fence. Morning dew clung to the delicate petals and wet the bottom half of Georgeanne’s robe. Beneath the orange silk, she wore a wrinkled T-shirt and a pair of white cotton panties. Her hair hung from a ratted ponytail and the mauve fingernail polish on her right hand was badly chipped as if Georgeanne had picked at it. The situation with Lexie was worse than Mae had thought.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Mae asked from her position on the last step.

Georgeanne shook her head and reached for another wilted rose. “Lexie won’t talk to me. She wouldn’t talk to me yesterday on the drive home, and she won’t talk to me today. She didn’t drift off to sleep until around two A.M.” She tossed another rose into the wheelbarrow. “What’s she doing in there?”

“Watching
The Brady Bunch
,” Mae answered as she moved across the brick patio. She set her coffee on a wrought-iron table and sat in a matching chair. “When you called last night, you didn’t tell me she was so upset that she couldn’t sleep. That’s not like her at all.”

Georgeanne dropped her hands and looked over her shoulder. “I told you she wasn’t talking. That’s not at all like her either.” She walked toward Mae and set her pruning shears on the table. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to talk to her, but she just ignores me. At first I thought that she might be angry because she was having so much fun at the beach and I made her leave. Now I know that was just wishful thinking on my part. She must have heard John and me arguing.” Georgeanne sank down on the chair beside Mae, a ratty lump of misery. “She knows I lied to her about her father.”