Together Again: Book 3 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance) (13 page)

He poured two cups of coffee, added milk to one he then handed to her. “I was out on the deck before I came downstairs. Who’s the old guy next door? He was watching me pretty close.”

“That’s Mr. Todd. He takes it as his responsibility to look out for me. Tomorrow, before we go to the Gorge, I’ll introduce you. In the meantime,” she put a platter of raspberries and cantaloupe on the table with the coffee cake, “is this enough breakfast for you? I have some juice, too, and may be able to scare up some cereal but … ”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to fuss over me.”

“I want to. I like having you here.”

He cut a piece of coffee cake and put it on a plate for her. “Good. Because I like being here.”

• • •

Saturday morning after breakfast, Margo led Tony down to the end of the dock to show off her river. He stood behind her, his arms around her, as she waxed eloquent on the advantages of living on the water.

“Your Columbia River is beautiful but I’ve seen rivers before. It’s that I’m interested in.” He pointed to the mountain standing sentinel to the east, its top third covered in snow. “That sure puts what we call mountains in the East into a different perspective.”

“That’s Mt. Hood. Some places in Portland you can see Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, Mt. St. Helens and, on a really clear day, a little bit of Mt. Rainier.”

“Mt. St. Helens? The volcano that erupted?”

“They’re all volcanoes.”

“Makes it even more interesting.”

Holding hands, they walked back down the dock toward Margo’s house — and Mr. Todd. Her neighbor was waiting at the open door to his house next door. In a starched white dress shirt and dark trousers with knife-sharp creases, he still looked like the corporate lawyer he once was. He was only about five-feet-four inches tall, with a full head of neatly combed white hair and eyes the color of a faded blue work shirt. But there was nothing faded about the careful way he watched the couple as they approached his house. Margo was sure they’d been under his surveillance from the time they’d walked down the dock.

He greeted Margo with an affectionate hug. “Good morning, Margo. Nice to see you haven’t run off to work on a Saturday.” He turned to Tony. “And who’s this with you?”

Making the introductions Margo added, “Tony’s here on police business. He’ll be around off and on for the next week or so.”

“I hope you enjoy your visit, young man. And that you get to see more of our lovely state than just downtown Portland.”

“In fact, we’re going to the Gorge for the weekend,” Margo said.

“Your favorite place. Good. You deserve a weekend off.” He looked at Tony. “Detective, was it? Alessandro, can I have a few words with you before you go?”

Tony shot Margo a puzzled look but said only, “Of course, sir,” and followed Mr. Todd into his house. Margo went home to finish her packing.

About five minutes later Tony came in the front door. “That was interesting.”

“What did he want?”

“It was like Thursday night with your friend Liz, only she was more subtle.”

“Liz? Subtle? I don’t think I’ve never heard those two words in the same sentence before.”

“Well, she was, at least relatively. Mr. Todd flat out warned me that if I do anything to hurt you, I’d have to answer to him. I told him I’ve known you all my life and would never hurt you. I think he believed me. I’m not sure.”

“Told you he looked after me.”

“I tried to polish my image by telling him I was here with the FBI working on a case of national importance. Think that’ll work?”

“Absolutely. After a lifetime of corporate law, he seems to find criminal law exciting. He’s always asking about my cases.”

“After my experiences with Liz and Mr. Todd, I’d say my family went easy on you, Keyes. Does everyone you know interrogate the men in your life like this?”

She picked up her duffle bag. “You packed?”

“Yes. You’re not going to answer that question either, are you?”

“You catch on quick, Alessandro.”

Up in the parking lot, as Margo opened the back of her Forester, Tony said, “Maybe you’ll answer this one: do you ski on Mt. Hood?”

“I don’t ski anyplace. If you’re asking about the rack on top of my car, it could hold skis with the right attachments but the gizmos I have make it a bike rack for my mountain bike.”

“Jesus, what the hell kind of big city Easterner am I? I fall for someone who lives in the water, owns a four-wheel drive and a mountain bike and spends her free time hiking around in a wilderness.” He looked as if he was rethinking his taste in women.

Her retort was sharp and quick. “Yeah? Well, what kind of Northwesterner am I when I’m in love with a guy who probably doesn’t even own a pair of hiking boots?”

He caught what was buried in the sentence. “So, you’re in love with me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did.” Neither he nor the beaming expression on his face moved.

“Get in the car, Tony. Just get in the damn car.”

With the passing of the shower, the weather began to cooperate with Margo’s plans to show Tony her favorite place in all of the Northwest, the spectacular gorge the Columbia River cut through the Cascade Mountains millennia ago.

Stopping at Crown Point, high above the river on the old highway, they could see for miles upstream and down. Below them, wind-surfers and kite-boarders darted like dragonflies around the occasional barge and towboat convoy. Above, white clouds and the remains of their more sullen relatives that had dispensed rain earlier moved east, occasionally snagging on the tips of trees on the distant hills as if reluctant to leave town.

Pointing out a bald eagle soaring overhead, Margo asked if he could ever imagine that sight in Philadelphia. Tony replied that the only Eagles he’d ever seen in Philly played in the NFL since he was sure, when the starlings and pigeons moved into Center City, the flying kind had relocated to a better neighborhood.

After fighting through the crowds to climb for a close-up of Multnomah Falls and then hiking on one of Margo’s favorite trails, they crossed the Bridge of the Gods to the Washington side of the river and checked into the hotel where Margo had a reservation for the night. They had a swim in the mineral pool and a long, leisurely dinner, then headed to their room where they planned to end the day with a soak in the hot tub on the balcony.

• • •

Tony took the hotel robes out to the deck, draped them over the railing to give them some privacy and climbed into the hot tub. When Margo had doused all the lights in the room, she joined him, wrapped in a towel, which she dropped onto the deck as she stepped into the water. God, she was beautiful. She looked like Venus or whoever it was in that painting rising from the sea. Except she was getting into the water. Not out of it.

What the hell was wrong with him? A beautiful naked woman was cuddling up against him and he was thinking about a goddamn painting.

They sat in silence for a while, the hot tub jets gently massaging them. Finally, Margo said, “This is just about perfect, isn’t it? The smell of the trees, the stars … ”

“Took us long enough to get here.”

Her head popped up. “I’m sorry. Was the drive too long?”

“I didn’t mean to get to the hotel. I meant to get naked in a hot tub.” He settled her back on his shoulder.

“Oh, that.” She laughed.

“Did you ever think about it before this summer?”

“Getting naked with you? Uh-huh. Did you?”

He kissed the side of her head. “Other than when I was in high school and thought about fucking every girl I saw who wasn’t related to me?”

“Oh, great. I was part of the cast of hundreds in your teenaged fantasies. Just what every girl wants to hear.” Crossing her arms over her breasts, she drew back from him, trying to look angry.

“I didn’t say that was the only time, did I?” He pulled at her to get her back into his arms. “Since Mary Ellen’s wedding, I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“That’s better.” She returned to him. “We really blew it at Mary Ellen’s wedding, didn’t we? What exactly was the emergency that Noah dragged you off to take care of?”

“No emergency. Just saying good-bye to a couple of relatives. His mother had sent him to find me. He couldn’t look at me for weeks afterwards without a silly grin on his face. Seeing your uncle with his hands on the ass of a wedding guest while they kiss was probably more than a twelve-year-old should know about his godfather.”

“What did Catherine say?”

“Apparently he didn’t tell his mother because she hasn’t said anything. And I’m pretty sure she would have said something if she knew.”

“Pretty sure? She’d have had your head on a pike if she’s the same Catherine I knew.”

He laughed. “She is. Believe me.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

She sighed against his chest. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be. At least not then.”

“Oh, yeah, after fifteen years we needed another eight months to make it work out.” He shook his head and splashed her. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d be pissed that you didn’t stick around.”

“Do you really? Love me so much, I mean.”

He kissed her temple. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good.” She put her arm across his chest and looked up at him. “I’m not big on unrequited love.”

“Is this your way of telling me you love me?” This time he kissed her mouth.

When he pulled away, she made a little sound of disappointment and tried to bring his mouth back to hers. He shook his head. “Nope. Not ’til you say it.”

“If I do, will you kiss me again?”

“Try me.”

She kissed along his jaw line over to his ear and whispered, “I love you, Tony.”

“There. That wasn’t so tough, was it?” He stood up and reached for her hand. “Now, how ’bout we take this inside?”

“Hey, you said you’d kiss me.”

“No, I didn’t. But if we go inside, you might get lucky.” He sat on the edge of the hot tub, pulled her into his lap and swung his legs over onto the balcony deck.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Taking this inside, counselor,” he said as he picked up her towel and threw it over her.

She tried to get off his lap, but he wouldn’t let her go. When she stopped struggling, he stood up with her in his arms and carried her into their room.

“You do know I can walk, don’t you?” she said.

“Yeah, but I’m kinda liking this carrying-you-off-to-bed thing.” He started to drop her on the bed.

“Tony! Don’t, I’m dripping wet. Let me dry off.”

“That sounds like fun. I’ll do it.” He set her down and took the towel from her, quickly wiped off his chest and her back, then pulled her against him. As he stroked her breasts with the towel, he slowly moved his stiffening erection against the cleft of her bottom and nibbled on her neck. “Isn’t this better than just toweling off?” She sighed and tried to turn around. “Not yet. Only half done,” he said as he gently rubbed the towel down to her hips, kissing her shoulders and the back of her neck as he caressed her. She moaned, put her hand over his and tried to move it down between her thighs, but he stopped her. “You’re always in such a hurry, sugar.”

She put her hands behind her, on his hips, as he massaged her body, ran his tongue around the edge of her ear, nipped at her earlobe. Finally he reached over, pulled down the spread and sheets, lifted her onto the bed and settled her on her back. She held out her arms to him but he ignored the invitation. Instead he separated her legs and positioned himself between her bent knees. Holding onto her hips he began to kiss her belly, circling her navel, finally moving down so he could make love to her with his mouth.

On a sharp intake of breath, she said, “Tony,” and grasped his head.

He looked up at her. “You don’t like it? Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, God, no. Please don’t stop.”

Her hips bucked up at his mouth, her breathing became shallow and rapid as his tongue flicked over the nerve center hidden in the folds between her legs. When he substituted his thumb and introduced two fingers into her now-wet passage, she moaned, writhing in rhythm with his hand until she cried out in release.

He kissed his way back up her body, beginning with the insides of her thighs, up to her breasts, then her neck, her jaw, her cheeks. He took his time getting to her lips. As he reached her mouth, he entered her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and devoured his mouth, nipping at his lips with her teeth, playing chase games with his tongue, riding along with him as they crested the wave of feeling and came down the other side.

They drove home on the winding and curvy Highway 14 on the Washington side of the river, avoiding the freeway, trying to make their escape last as long as they could. But eventually they pulled into the marina parking lot. It was raining again, the gray sky reflecting Margo’s mood now that the weekend was over.

Anxious to get into the house, they ran down the dock. When Margo was almost at her front door, the broken shards of a pot, crushed flowers and mounds of dirt scattered along the dock stopped her cold. She stepped back, almost tripping Tony who was close behind her.

“My front door’s open,” she whispered, “and there’s a mess on the deck.”

He moved in front of her. “I’ll go see what’s going on.” He walked quietly up to the door and kicked it completely open. “Police. Don’t move.”

She stood just outside the door while he scanned the living area. There was no sign anyone had been there. “I’m going around to the deck and take a look up there,” he said. “Stay outside. Do you have your cell phone?”

She nodded.

“If you see or hear anything unusual, call 9-1-1.”

A few seconds later, Tony yelled, “Make that call, Margo. We need police and an ambulance. Mr. Todd’s been hurt.”

As she made the emergency call, Margo ran to the narrow walkway between their homes. In the wreckage of several more broken pots and damaged foliage was a crumpled heap — Mr. Todd with Tony kneeling beside him.

“Oh, God, is he … ?”

“He’s got a good pulse in his neck but there’s a bad gash in his head and he’s not responding.” He stroked her arm. “He’ll be okay, sugar. Go back out front so you can let the EMTs in.”