Authors: Susan Johnson

Wine, Tarts, & Sex (22 page)

BOOK: Wine, Tarts, & Sex

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“I never get tired of Murphy’s,” Leo murmured, pushing his plate away and leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “A steak and a martini.” He winked at Hannah. “And a piece of ass afterward. Hell, life doesn’t get much better.”

Maybe she could slowly poison his martinis,
Hannah thought, not sure she could manage a lengthy sojourn as wife to this boorish lout. “I enjoy your company, too, Leo. You’re just as charming as everyone always says.”

“They say that?” he grunted, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

“Of course, darling. You’re universally known for your charming manner,” she went on, doing her best to overlook the dribble of spit sliding down his chin. “You put people at ease,” she went on gamely. “You can talk to anyone on any subject” (as long as it’s about him—or him—or, for a change, him). “Dex said the other day that you’re the smartest man he’s ever met.”

“I’ve done okay for myself, I guess,” Leo said smugly, setting the toothpick on his plate and wiping his mouth with his napkin.

Thank God for small favors. He’d used his napkin instead of the back of his hand. “You’ve done more than okay, darling,” Hannah said, feeling as though she would be pushing a huge rock uphill until this evening ended. “You’re at the absolute top of your game. No one knows how to make things happen when it comes to deal-making better than you.”

“Speaking of making things happen. You look sexy as hell in that hot-pink suit. You’re gonna have to take that off for me real soon.”

She always cringed at the thought of having sex with him. When he took off his clothes, he was hideously wrinkled and flabby, despite his personal trainer. And if he lasted thirty seconds before he came, it was practically a record. The flip side and the only side that mattered, however, was that he was fabulously wealthy. “I’m tingly just thinking about it,” she murmured, offering him the tantalizing smile she’d been practicing before the mirror since high school. “And for your information,” she purred, “my lingerie is hot-pink, too.”

“To go with your hot cunt,” he said with a leer just as the waiter returned with their martinis.

Having seen his share of rich old men with beautiful young women, the waiter didn’t so much as blink as he set the glasses on the table. “Coffee and dessert will be up shortly, sir.”

“Here’s to us, babe,” Leo cheerfully said, ignoring the waiter and lifting his martini glass to Hannah. “And to the rest of the evening.”

Hannah smiled and raised her glass. “You don’t know how much I’m looking forward to it, darling.”

And to the day that lovely pink diamond engagement ring she’d seen at Tiffany’s was slipped on her finger.

As for her sex life, those bodyguards Leo had just hired might be willing to do a few things for her as well. A little extra overtime on the side, as it were. Leo always immediately fell asleep after he climaxed, leaving her totally unsatisfied.

And dying to get off.

She stole a glance at the next table, where the two buff young bodyguards were seated, all stern-faced and alert, scanning the room just like those CIA men did in movies. Really, the one closest to them could have been a model, he was so handsome. He reminded her a little of those Abercrombie & Fitch boys, only he was clearly a
man
.

What would he do if she brushed up against him in the elevator?

Better yet, why didn’t she invite them
both
into her bed some night when Leo was dead to the world?

That delicious thought kept a smile on her face for the remainder of the meal, and when she
accidently
tripped getting into the car outside the restaurant, she made sure Mr. Abercrombie was standing close enough to catch her.

She smiled as he helped her into the car a moment later. “Thank you. I must have drunk more than I thought,” she said, squeezing his hand in what could have been simple gratitude.

“Not a problem, miss. Anytime.”

His middle finger slid over her palm. There was no doubt. “How polite you are,” she murmured, taking her seat, a little jolt of lust warming her senses.

“Yes, miss.” He released her hand and stepped back.

Had she been mistaken? Was it simply a meaningless stroke of his hand?

“If you ever need anything, miss, Bo and I are here to serve you.”

“Thank you. Leo, your bodyguards are the most polite young men,” she said, turning her smile on Leo as the two men moved to take their seats in the front of the limo. “What agency sent them?”

“Fuck if I know. Ask Ben. He takes care of that shit.” Leo rubbed his stomach and grimaced. “I shouldn’t have had that third martini. I’m going to call it a night, babe. Sorry, but you’re going to have to wait to get laid.” Leaning forward, he tapped on the glass behind his driver’s head. “Take me home, Tommie, and then take the lady home.” Falling back against the seat, he muttered, “Maybe it’s all the stress with my bitch wife. Chriiist. As if I don’t have enough on my plate without having to chase her down.”

“Poor dear,” Hannah murmured, stroking Leo’s arm. “If there’s anything I can do, just let me know. I feel just terrible for you.”

“Thanks, babe. It’s all in the bag though. Soon the problem will be solved.”

“To your satisfaction, I hope.” Janie’s rather sordid background had always made her a complete unknown to Hannah. Unpredictable. Impossible to read. Even harder to understand.

“Of course to my satisfaction,” Leo said with a snort. “Is there any other way?”

Twenty-five

While Hannah Reiss was trying to play all her cards right and possibly score with Leo’s bodyguards in the bargain, those seated at Liv’s kitchen table were enjoying another fabulous dinner, compliments of Jake Chambers.

Matt was eating his second chocolate chip cookie, while the adults were sipping chilled coffee and Kahlua with a dollop of whipped cream much superior to that served at Murphy’s Steakhouse.

Roman, Janie, and Matt had spent the day at the beach. Liv and Jake had spent the day in bed until such a time as extreme hunger forced them to rise. After a quick trip to the local co-op grocery store, Jake made Southern fried pickle spears for an appetizer; a baby beet, heirloom tomato, and fig salad; and pulled pork with barbecue sauce served on homemade focaccia bread.

Everyone was stuffed, content, and practically speechless from a sense of well-being. The warm summer evening insinuated itself into the kitchen through the open windows and door, while the frogs and crickets sang their nightly chorus.

“You’re sunburned,” Liv murmured, only half-lifting her hand in Janie’s direction, overcome as she was with balmy lethargy.

“That’s a great beach so close to your house, and I’m just a little pink. It’s nothing,” Janie airily added, smiling up at Roman. “We’re going back tomorrow, aren’t we?”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

The blatant absurdity between Roman’s formidable seen-it-all detective persona and his quiet acquiescence made Liv smile. She turned to Jake and sportively asked, “Why aren’t you so amenable?”

He looked amused. “I beg your pardon? Have I ever said no to you?”

Liv’s gaze flicked to Matt in warning. “I was just teasing. ”

He grinned. “I wasn’t. Not that I’m complaining. In fact—”

“Stop,” she hissed, her gaze darting to Matt again. But the little boy was totally engrossed in picking chocolate chips out of his cookie.

“I was only going to say that I find your company extremely pleasant in every way,” Jake said with a lazy smile.

“And I yours,” Liv replied as smoothly, relieved that no one at the table was even listening. Janie and Roman were talking softly to each other; Matt had completely decimated his cookie and was now intent on pushing the crumbs into a pile on the very edge of the table.

Taking note of Liv’s quick survey, Jake softly drawled, “See, I didn’t embarrass you. They don’t even know we’re here.”

"Fortunately.”

His mouth quirked into a faint smile. “You—the shy type?”

“Please.” Her brows flickered. “Stop it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

An irrepressible grin appeared. “You’re impossible.”

He slid lower in his chair, looked at her from under his lashes, and said in a low voice pithy with ambivalence, “Perhaps—but never with you.”

“Allow me to decide that,” she said with deliberate lightness, knowing if she had half a brain she’d never lose sight of the fact that the past few days were nothing more than fun and games. Which meant she’d best curb any thoughts she might have about wanting him to stay.

It suddenly felt like déjà vu, as though she’d been here before at her kitchen table on another summer night. And Jake had been staring at her with that same intense scrutiny.

“Mama, will you read me da moon book again donight?” Matt asked, sending the cookie crumbs flying with a wild sweep of his hand.

Janie looked up. “Of course, dear. Are you finished eating? If you are,” she said, ignoring the mess he’d made like someone with a household staff might, “we’ll go upstairs and read.”

“Me done.” Matt jumped to the floor. “I wuv dat book.”

When Janie rose from her chair, Roman stood. “I’ll come listen, too.” As Matt came hurtling past on his way to the stairs, Roman scooped him up in his arms and tossed him over his shoulder to the squealing delight of one three-year -old little boy.

“That’s turning out to be a real interesting trio,” Liv murmured, her gaze on her retiring guests. She preferred talking about safer subjects in her current overly sensitive, déjà vu mood.

“I hope Janie doesn’t fuck him over,” Jake remarked, his voice carefully neutral, as though he, too, understood the necessity for a shift in conversation.

“I’d guess Roman can take care of himself.”

“Let’s hope so. I wouldn’t want to see him get pissed.”

“It’s really nice of him, though, to help out Janie. Or give her moral support or whatever. She can use some sympathy in what will probably turn out to be a nasty divorce.”

“I’d say Janie has Leo in a box.” Janie had explained about taking the computer files.

“Let’s hope so. His last wife didn’t fare too well.”

A small silence fell.

They’d both run out of miscellaneous topics.

“I think I should head home,” Jake finally said into the lengthening silence. “It’s been a while since I checked my voice mail and stuff.”

They both knew he could check his voice mail from anywhere, but his remark wasn’t unexpected. In fact, Liv was surprised he’d stayed as long as he had. Surprised and hugely gratified sexually. But really . . .

They were both adults.

They both understood this couldn’t go on forever.

“Thanks for driving up. Your visit was”—she smiled— “exceptional in every way.”

“I agree.”

“And thank you, too, for all the wonderful meals.”

“My pleasure. Stop in next time you’re in town.”

“I will.”

Leaning over, he kissed her lightly on the cheek before coming to his feet. “Sorry about leaving you with the dishes.”

“Don’t be. You can’t be expected to make the meal and clean up, too.”

Lifting his hand in a casual wave, he walked to the door. As he pushed the screen door open, he turned back. “I had a
really
good time,” he said, his voice hushed and low.

She smiled. “Me, too.”

The screen door slammed shut a second later, and she heard his footsteps cross the porch, then only silence as he moved away from the house.

A car firing up echoed in the stillness a moment later, the sweep of headlights flitted across her kitchen windows, and then the soft roar of the BMW slowly diminished as he drove away.

She didn’t feel sad.

She didn’t feel happy.

Instead, she experienced some middle ground of feeling: a gentle satisfaction and contentment. As though, well-stocked with orgasms and sexual pleasures, should a period of prolonged abstinence befall her, she would remain calm and unruffled.

Jake, on the other hand, wasn’t sure he could withstand
any
abstinence when it came to Liv Bell. Even before he reached the freeway—a mere seven miles away—he was thinking about screwing her again, his powerful cravings fucking with his brain big time.

Jerking his hand off the wheel, he stabbed the stereo On button and, cranking the sound up high, resorted to his tried-and-true method of amnesia, male style. Loud music and high speed had always been the perfect combination to take his mind off things he wanted to forget. Something about the compelling need to stay alive always obliterated lesser issues.

He scanned the highway for cops.

None.

He punched the accelerator and, with the music blasting, headed home.

BOOK: Wine, Tarts, & Sex

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