Tymber Dalton (8 page)

Their killer blue eyes, the same light blue of a Florida sky during a high pressure system, a little on the grey side but clear and piercing.

She found the Hitachi and drew it close, pressing it between her legs. She normally kept her mound trimmed close because she liked it better that way. As she thought about what it would feel like to have both men in bed with her, she clicked the vibrator’s switch to
low
.

Her entire body tingled as the vibrator pushed pleasure through her clit, spreading into a fire throughout her whole body. What would it feel like to be sandwiched between those two men? Just like in the ménage books she read?

She wiggled her hips a little, getting more traction against the vibrator’s head nestled deeper between her labia as her other hand drifted up to her breasts. She tugged at one nipple, then the other, back and forth, wishing it was two sets of hands not connected to her doing the work for her.

Pulling herself even more deeply into her fantasy, she envisioned riding Ken’s cock, having it deep inside her pussy while Charles knelt behind her and played with her ass.

Her cunt walls clenched at that thought. Her juices ran as the fantasy played out in her mind.

He would go slow and gentle, working a finger or two into my ass before the head of his cock pressed against me.
She flipped the Hitachi’s switch to
high
and had to turn her face sideways into the pillow to muffle the cry she let out as she came. Breathless and trembling, she switched the vibrator off and took a deep breath as a smile played across her face.

Oooh, yeah. That’s better.

It wasn’t until she made herself move to head for the bathroom that reality poked its head around the corner when she glanced back at her bed. A king-sized bed because she liked lots of room.

Her heart ached.
A king-sized bed to be lonely in.

Forcing that thought out of her mind, she headed to the bathroom to go soak in the tub.

Monday morning, Libbie felt marginally better than she had the day before. Still, her body groaned in protest as she slowly rolled onto her side and pushed up into a sitting position. She hadn’t set eyes on her tenants since Saturday, although a few times she’d heard them come and go via the outside stairs.

Not even the sound of their TV filtered through her walls.

In a way, it was a relief.

She made her way out to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, glancing over to where her purse sat on the counter. The money they’d given her was tucked inside the zippered interior side pocket where she kept her tampons.

I need to run to the bank and deposit that.
She didn’t like having that much cash on hand. She’d put the security deposit part of it in her savings account where it would stay, untouched. The rest of it would go straight into her business account so she could pay bills, with some held back as cash to pay Jenny.

As she tried to stretch, her muscles protested. A trip to the bank could wait until after she’d had a pain pill, a hot bath, and rubbed some of Mandaline’s miracle cures all over her.

An hour later, she felt strong enough to make the trip. That would be about all she’d accomplish, but she was used to that. The sudden fatigue could hit her and make her feel like someone had flipped a switch on her energy. Even in the middle of a shopping trip, she’d find herself looking for a place to sit down and rest for a couple of minutes with barely enough strength to go on, much less the energy to schlep her groceries upstairs when she made it home.

She’d learned to save large grocery trips for days when Jenny was there. The girl was happy to help out and traipse up and down the stairs for her.

Libbie had found sometimes she only had enough strength to get back up the stairs and crawl into bed, much less repeated trips.

Today, however, she slowly made her way down the stairs, the ones that ended in the hallway leading to the outside at the back of the bakery. They put her closer to her car because the door opened onto the carport. She rested for a moment after getting in, then carefully backed out. Ken and Charles had backed their pickup truck in. She briefly wondered whether or not Nebraska was a single-plate state like Florida when she saw no license plate attached to the front bumper, but by the time she reached the street the thought had already been chased out of her head by her need to concentrate on her driving.

By eleven, she was back in her apartment and curled up on the couch with her Kindle and Galileo. She’d had all sorts of plans for today, such as working on paperwork and washing her car, but knew if she wanted to be able to work in the morning she had to take it easy.

* * * *

A little before ten Monday morning, Allan decided to leave their apartment again to get some air and look around some more. Going downstairs, he noticed Libbie’s car was gone. He took another turn around the center of Brooksville again on foot. Stores closed the day before had opened, including Many Blessings.

“What the hell, I could use a coffee.” He stepped inside, surprised to find it nearly deserted except for a woman dusting a bookshelf, and another woman standing behind the counter.

As he stepped up to the counter, he recognized the woman who’d given them the information about Libbie’s apartment.

She also apparently recognized him. She greeted him with a beaming grin. “Ah, I see you’re still around.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you. The apartment you told us about was perfect.”

She waggled her eyebrows at him. “I did mention Libbie was single, didn’t I?”

He felt the blush reach his cheeks.
Dammit, what the hell’s wrong with me?
He was used to standing up in court without breaking a sweat. Why was he suddenly getting all bashful when he thought about their cute landlord? “Um, yes, you did. I’m sure we also mentioned we’re gay.”

She let out a snort. “Sure you are, sweetie. What can I get you this morning?”

He wanted to argue the point then realized how absolutely stupid that was. Somehow, this woman had seen through their charade.

The fact that it was a New Age shop didn’t escape him.

Maybe she’s a witch.
He could barely think it and manage to hold back his laughter at the same time. “Just a large coffee, please. House whatever. Black.”

She nodded and turned to get it, but he didn’t miss the tickled smile on her face. When she returned with his coffee and he reached for it, she grabbed his hand with her free one and stared into his eyes.

He felt frozen in time and space, locked onto her gaze.

“Hmm,” she muttered, frowning slightly. “You aren’t what you say you are. Neither of you are, but you have good reasons for it. You’re good men.” She released him and smiled, holding his coffee out to him. “Here you go.”

He stood there blinking and wondered for a moment if he’d imagined the whole thing. “How much?” he asked, feeling rattled.

She shook her head. “No charge. Not today.” Her eyes narrowed. “I know you’ll do the right thing by her, won’t you? She needs good men like you.”

Mumbling his thanks, he took the coffee and hurried out of the shop.

Something about that woman, what was her name? Mandaline?
It unnerved him. Not in a serial killer sort of way. While the peaceful atmosphere of the shop had felt calming, he wasn’t sure he believed in psychic abilities.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel like all his secrets had been laid bare before her with just the touch of her hand to his.

He decided to return to the apartment and noticed Libbie’s car was back in her normal parking space. He wanted to spend some time with her. Nonwork time. He assumed when she was in the bakery that she was all business and not able to socialize very much.

Wouldn’t hurt to ask her out to dinner.
He found himself hesitating at their door instead of going in. Allan wasn’t sure what Ben would say about it. Frankly, he didn’t care. Decision made, he turned, strode over to Libbie’s door, and knocked.

From inside, he heard her faint reply. “Just a minute.”

He regretted disturbing her when he realized how long it was taking her to get to the door from the sound of her slow progress across the apartment. When she opened the door, the pinched look of pain on her face wasn’t easy to miss.

“Hi,” he said, his heart aching for her. “Sorry to bug you. I just wanted to know if we could make dinner for you tonight.” Screw going out, it looked like she could barely walk, much less go down the stairs and be sociable in a restaurant. “As a token of our appreciation.”

When it looked like she might refuse, he quickly added, “Seriously, we don’t want you to bring anything but yourself. Please? We’d like to do this for you.”

Her green eyes stared up at him. He suspected her pale complexion was due more to her pain than lack of sun exposure. After what felt like hours, she slowly nodded, the ghost of a smile curving her lips. “Okay. Thank you, Charles. I appreciate it. What time?”

“How about six? Is that okay?”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

She’d started to step back, as if to close the door. He couldn’t bear to let her go just yet. “Listen, Libbie, is there anything I can do to help you?”

She hesitated. “We can talk about the bakery at dinner.”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant anything else. Can I carry laundry down or up for you, or take out your garbage, or…anything?” He felt his face heat as he realized how lame that sounded.

She started to reply when her huge, orange tabby stepped through the doorway and curled himself around his legs.

With a smile, Allan reached down and picked him up. “Hey, fellow.” He glanced up at her. “I saw you had a cat, but I didn’t get to see much of him during the move.”

Her eyes widened. “He…seems to like you.”

The cat loudly purred in his arms. He rubbed under the cat’s chin. “I love cats. I haven’t been able to have any pets for a while now. Too busy,” he added.

“No, you don’t understand. He hates everyone. Well, except me and Grover. And sometimes I think he only tolerates me because I feed him and keep his litter pan clean.”

The cat looked at him and head-butted his chin. Allan laughed. “He seems to like me. Maybe he knows I’m an easy touch. Is he allowed outside?”

She shook her head and reached for the cat. “No. He’s not allowed in the bakery, either. But he’ll go downstairs with me sometimes when I do the laundry.”

“We’ll make sure we keep an eye out for him then so we don’t let him out.” He reached over and stroked the cat’s head again. The cat stretched his neck to keep contact with him. “What’s his name again?”

“Galileo. Or asshole, when he’s being a real pill.”

Allan’s eyes locked with hers. For a moment, the heat rising inside him took away his ability to speak. Then she shifted her gaze to the floor as another ghostly smile flitted across her features before disappearing again. “I’ll see you at six,” she softly said, stepping back inside the apartment.

“Six,” he repeated.

He turned and heard her door shut behind him. Kicking himself, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Gay. I’m supposed to be gay.

He adjusted the semi-stiff chubby in his jeans before returning to their apartment.

* * * *

Libbie closed the door and leaned against it with Galileo tightly snuggled in her arms. She buried her face in the cat’s coat. For a moment, when her eyes had locked on Charles’, she felt something, like a bolt of heat streaking straight through her.

Except for the fact that he was gay, she would have sworn he felt it, too, from the way his eyebrows arched.

“Mrwao.” Galileo struggled to free himself from her grasp. She let him jump from her arms. He landed on the floor where he sat and proceeded to groom himself.

“Ungrateful ass. What was that all about, anyway?” She looked down at him. “You hate everyone. Why’s he special?” Galileo never friendlied up to anyone. Including the three guys she’d had less than stellar onetime dates with in the past couple of years.

Hell, even the vet techs drew straws to see who had to deal with him when she took him in for checkups and vaccinations.

But that was yet another point in the men’s favor. Grover and Galileo, the only two important men in her life, had apparently signed off on the cousins.

Well, Galileo had signed off on Charles. He had yet to officially meet Ken, but she had a feeling the cat might like him as well.

Being sociable hadn’t blipped her screen of daily tasks, but she suspected spending time with others outside of the bakery would be a good thing for her. Grover was always bugging her to get out and socialize more often.

Come on, six o’clock.

* * * *

Ben glared at his brother. “Thanks for asking me first.”

“Hey, I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Ben leaned back and scrubbed his face with his hands. It still caught him off guard sometimes that he was now clean-shaven. “I’m sorry. Look, I’m just not in much of a socializing mood tonight.”