room to put the wine on the counter between her kitchen and living room. “Do you know you have a message?” He reached up, and before she could stop him, pushed the play button on her answering machine.
Tracy made a flying leap, but it was too late. Her mother’s high-pitched whine filled the little cottage again.
“Great, nothing like unleashing the demons of hell.” Tracy heard her ex-husband’s name four times before she managed to get to the phone. She hit Delete between another C and a J. She was sorry she hadn’t thought to do it before Marsh showed up.
“I gather that was your mother?” Marsh lifted a brow.
“Let’s not talk about my mother.”
“She sounded upset.”
“She’s been upset for a while now. She’s stuck in upset.”
“About your ex, I take it?”
“CJ would be the cause. But let’s not—”
“Isn’t he in jail? What’s he done now?”
“CJ doesn’t have to do anything. If they’d hung him instead—”
“They don’t hang people in California.” Marsh sounded like the lawyer he was. “New Hampshire and Washington, maybe. I can check and get back to you.”
“CJ probably had business dealings there, but hanging wouldn’t do any good. My mother’s life changed, and, in her view, not for the better. Even if he was six feet under, she’d still be living in a two-bedroom bungalow on the west side of LA. She can’t get to CJ to rant and rave, but she has my number.”
“She’s not the only one who’s upset….” He laid a hand against her cheek and lifted her chin with his thumb. “You get a lot of these calls?”
“I’ve learned to ignore them.”
“Maybe not as much as you think.”
“I have some chips and hummus.” She pulled away. “And a nice cold six-pack.”
He took the cue. The haze of desire was fading. They needed space and some time away from talk of Tracy’s ex to let it build again.
He poured a beer—she figured this must be a special night, since he wasn’t drinking straight from the bottle—and she unwrapped the hummus and checked the timer for the Brie. She added three plump strawberries to each small plate and handed him one. Then she poured herself a glass of wine.
“Is it too hot to sit outside?” she asked as he dished up.
“It’s okay out there, but it was heating up even nicer inside.”
“I vote we cuddle on my sofa and see what happens.”
She turned on the music as she passed the counter. Vanessa Williams began to sing “Save the Best for Last.”
She settled beside him, and he put his arm around her shoulders. She took a sip of wine, then another.
“So, okay,” he said, “is the wine helping? Chug it down, and I’ll pour you another glass.”
She rested her head against his arm and turned so she could see him. “I was trying really hard not to let my mother hook me. But it’s kind of tough when I get the instant replay.”
“I was just making sure that message wasn’t some hunky piece of beach trash you picked up on the shuffleboard court at the rec center.”
She jabbed him with her fist, but she was smiling. “Would you be jealous?”
He leaned over and nuzzled her nose. “In…sanely.”
Maybe it was the wine or Vanessa’s crooning. More likely it was simply Marsh. She felt the desire seeping back, liquid honey sliding through her veins. “Do you know that next to love, jealousy is the emotion a woman most wants to inspire in a man?”
“More than lust?”
“On an equal par.”
“I’ve got lust down already.”
“Oh, I can tell.”
He brushed her hair back from her face. “You’ve grown on me, Tracy Deloche.”
“Like a barnacle?”
“Maybe at first. Something different now.” He leaned closer. “Definitely better.”
Just as their kiss deepened the timer went off.
“Ignore it,” he whispered against her lips.
She pulled away. “We’ll have Brie running out the oven door and all over the floor. Then I’d have to get Wanda’s dog to come over and clean it up, and Wanda would show up, too.”
“Hurry back.”
She planned to, and she thought maybe she would unbutton her dress when she did. Then she would stand in front of the sofa and hold out her hand for him. When he got to his feet, she would slip out of the dress and let it bloom like an exotic orchid on the floor. How they got to the bedroom—or if they did—would be up to him.
In the kitchen she turned off the oven and cracked the door. The Brie looked perfect.