Rock Chick
Page 51
I needed to help with the yard work. It was my neighborly duty.
I went into the house and up to my bedroom. I was running out of clothes at Lee’s place so I dumped the contents of my ever-ready, rarely-used workout bag and shoved items in just in case my stay there lasted longer. I took off my clothes, slathered myself with factor 8, put on a pair of cutoff jeans shorts and a kelly green camisole with a shelf bra. I gathered my hair in a messy knot on top of my head, grabbed my phone and called Lee.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“How’s it going?”
“Not good.”
He didn’t sound happy.
Yikes.
“If you get finished in time, we’re going out for pizza before Tod’s show tonight.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Your Mom says ‘all of us’ so I’m guessing that means Marianne Meyer, Andrea Moran and her kids, probably Ally and Hank, likely Dad and Malcolm and select players from the Colorado Rockies,” I paused, “oh, and Tex.”
“Marianne Meyer and Andrea Moran?”
“They’re on a Lee and Indy Sex Watch.”
“Come again?”
“They want to know when we’ve done it.”
Silence.
I went on. “If we don’t do it soon, they might force us to at gunpoint.”
“Christ.”
“I know. No pressure though. I told them we’re taking it slow.”
“You have to report in?”
“I kind of feel obliged.”
“How’s that?”
I didn’t want to tell him I’d recruited them both for Lee Maneuvers in the past, so I said, “Never mind.”
“If something doesn’t happen soon, it’s gonna be bad. I can’t keep focused, all I can think of is what’s on your Victoria’s Secret credit statement.”
“You need to keep focused,” I told him, “bad guys are after me.”
“Tell me about it.”
He hung up and I went into the other bedroom. Tex was lying on the couch, a sandwich on a plate and an open bag of chips both balanced on his sling, my remote in his hand, the TV on and a ball game was blaring.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Peachy,” he flipped through channels, acting for all the world as if he was a regular houseguest.
I got a sandwich from Ally and Kitty Sue, ate it standing up and then went outside. Hank was alternately hosing down Andrea’s monsters and watering my fuchsia and lawn. I hunkered down to weed my front flower bed, got into it about three feet and decided to take a break.
I laid down on my back in the grass and fell into an impromptu Disco Nap. What could I say? Yard work did that to me.
Something soft trailed down my temple and across my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw Lee crouched beside me, blocking the sun.
“I don’t like yard work,” I told him.
“My condo doesn’t have a yard,” he replied.
Hmm.
I sat up. He grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet. Someone (probably Kitty Sue and Marianne) had weeded the side and front beds, the one I was working on was still only half done. The yard was quiet. I took in a happy breath at the sweet bliss of aloneness.
“Don’t get too excited, we have an audience watching us from three different windows,” Lee told me.
Lee was close, looking down into my face, forcing me to tilt my head to look up at him. He always looked handsome but now I could see the tiredness around his eyes and mouth. It occurred to me he’d been at this for days, non-stop. I’d been lucky enough to squeeze in a couple of Disco Naps.
“How did hunting go today?” I asked.
“I’m used to better results.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t think he’s gone to ground, one of my contacts would know something. That means he’s either skipped town, which is unlikely, or he’s dead.”
I sucked in breath.
“Is dead an option?”
“He has some enemies, starting with Coxy,” Lee answered.
“You wanna explain that to me?”
“Not now, it’s nearly pizza time and I need to go home and shower.”
“Do you want to shower here?” I tried to ignore the thrill the thought of a na**d Lee in my shower gave me and pretend it didn’t affect me.
“I want to shower with you, are you comin’ with me?”
Okay, I couldn’t pretend he didn’t affect me, he seriously affected me.
I looked back at the house and saw faces swiftly disappear from the windows. “I don’t think I should, I have company.”
He grabbed me and kissed me, hard and quick and also disappointingly fast.
“Wear sexy panties tonight,” he said against my mouth.
“I don’t have any other options except commando.”
Lee’s arm tightened spasmodically.
“Christ.”
* * * * *
Lee met us at the Beau Jo’s.
Beau Jo’s offered huge, thick-crusted “mountain pies” that were the best pizza I’d ever had outside the times Dad and I visited Aunt Sunny in Chicago. Mountain pie crust was so thick, you saved the edges, smothered them with honey and ate them for dessert.
Our table seemed a mile long and it was mayhem. As if Andrea’s children weren’t enough to make us loud and obnoxious to all other customers, Duke and Dolores joined us as did Dad and Malcolm. Duke, Tex, Dad and Malcolm seemed to be in a contest to out-booming-macho-male talk each other.
Lee slid into the seat beside me, his hair still wet from the shower and curling around his neck and ears. He was wearing a pair of beat up, faded, army-green cargo pants and a light-blue, loose-fitting collared shirt, untucked, the right-amount of buttons left undone and the sleeves rolled partially up his forearms.
He looked hot.
For no apparent reason, before Lee fully settled into his seat, Andrea’s baby let out a high-pitched scream. I liked kids, of course, other people’s kids. In small doses. Very small doses.
Once Andrea had cooed it to semi-quietness, I turned to Lee.
“Do you want children?”
His eyes slid to me as he grabbed a menu.
He answered cautiously, “Yeah.”
“How many?”
He turned to me and his arm went around the back of my chair.
“Three.”
I thought about three children. They weren’t pleasant thoughts.
“And you?” Lee asked, gently tugging my hair.
I went into the house and up to my bedroom. I was running out of clothes at Lee’s place so I dumped the contents of my ever-ready, rarely-used workout bag and shoved items in just in case my stay there lasted longer. I took off my clothes, slathered myself with factor 8, put on a pair of cutoff jeans shorts and a kelly green camisole with a shelf bra. I gathered my hair in a messy knot on top of my head, grabbed my phone and called Lee.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“How’s it going?”
“Not good.”
He didn’t sound happy.
Yikes.
“If you get finished in time, we’re going out for pizza before Tod’s show tonight.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Your Mom says ‘all of us’ so I’m guessing that means Marianne Meyer, Andrea Moran and her kids, probably Ally and Hank, likely Dad and Malcolm and select players from the Colorado Rockies,” I paused, “oh, and Tex.”
“Marianne Meyer and Andrea Moran?”
“They’re on a Lee and Indy Sex Watch.”
“Come again?”
“They want to know when we’ve done it.”
Silence.
I went on. “If we don’t do it soon, they might force us to at gunpoint.”
“Christ.”
“I know. No pressure though. I told them we’re taking it slow.”
“You have to report in?”
“I kind of feel obliged.”
“How’s that?”
I didn’t want to tell him I’d recruited them both for Lee Maneuvers in the past, so I said, “Never mind.”
“If something doesn’t happen soon, it’s gonna be bad. I can’t keep focused, all I can think of is what’s on your Victoria’s Secret credit statement.”
“You need to keep focused,” I told him, “bad guys are after me.”
“Tell me about it.”
He hung up and I went into the other bedroom. Tex was lying on the couch, a sandwich on a plate and an open bag of chips both balanced on his sling, my remote in his hand, the TV on and a ball game was blaring.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Peachy,” he flipped through channels, acting for all the world as if he was a regular houseguest.
I got a sandwich from Ally and Kitty Sue, ate it standing up and then went outside. Hank was alternately hosing down Andrea’s monsters and watering my fuchsia and lawn. I hunkered down to weed my front flower bed, got into it about three feet and decided to take a break.
I laid down on my back in the grass and fell into an impromptu Disco Nap. What could I say? Yard work did that to me.
Something soft trailed down my temple and across my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw Lee crouched beside me, blocking the sun.
“I don’t like yard work,” I told him.
“My condo doesn’t have a yard,” he replied.
Hmm.
I sat up. He grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet. Someone (probably Kitty Sue and Marianne) had weeded the side and front beds, the one I was working on was still only half done. The yard was quiet. I took in a happy breath at the sweet bliss of aloneness.
“Don’t get too excited, we have an audience watching us from three different windows,” Lee told me.
Lee was close, looking down into my face, forcing me to tilt my head to look up at him. He always looked handsome but now I could see the tiredness around his eyes and mouth. It occurred to me he’d been at this for days, non-stop. I’d been lucky enough to squeeze in a couple of Disco Naps.
“How did hunting go today?” I asked.
“I’m used to better results.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I don’t think he’s gone to ground, one of my contacts would know something. That means he’s either skipped town, which is unlikely, or he’s dead.”
I sucked in breath.
“Is dead an option?”
“He has some enemies, starting with Coxy,” Lee answered.
“You wanna explain that to me?”
“Not now, it’s nearly pizza time and I need to go home and shower.”
“Do you want to shower here?” I tried to ignore the thrill the thought of a na**d Lee in my shower gave me and pretend it didn’t affect me.
“I want to shower with you, are you comin’ with me?”
Okay, I couldn’t pretend he didn’t affect me, he seriously affected me.
I looked back at the house and saw faces swiftly disappear from the windows. “I don’t think I should, I have company.”
He grabbed me and kissed me, hard and quick and also disappointingly fast.
“Wear sexy panties tonight,” he said against my mouth.
“I don’t have any other options except commando.”
Lee’s arm tightened spasmodically.
“Christ.”
* * * * *
Lee met us at the Beau Jo’s.
Beau Jo’s offered huge, thick-crusted “mountain pies” that were the best pizza I’d ever had outside the times Dad and I visited Aunt Sunny in Chicago. Mountain pie crust was so thick, you saved the edges, smothered them with honey and ate them for dessert.
Our table seemed a mile long and it was mayhem. As if Andrea’s children weren’t enough to make us loud and obnoxious to all other customers, Duke and Dolores joined us as did Dad and Malcolm. Duke, Tex, Dad and Malcolm seemed to be in a contest to out-booming-macho-male talk each other.
Lee slid into the seat beside me, his hair still wet from the shower and curling around his neck and ears. He was wearing a pair of beat up, faded, army-green cargo pants and a light-blue, loose-fitting collared shirt, untucked, the right-amount of buttons left undone and the sleeves rolled partially up his forearms.
He looked hot.
For no apparent reason, before Lee fully settled into his seat, Andrea’s baby let out a high-pitched scream. I liked kids, of course, other people’s kids. In small doses. Very small doses.
Once Andrea had cooed it to semi-quietness, I turned to Lee.
“Do you want children?”
His eyes slid to me as he grabbed a menu.
He answered cautiously, “Yeah.”
“How many?”
He turned to me and his arm went around the back of my chair.
“Three.”
I thought about three children. They weren’t pleasant thoughts.
“And you?” Lee asked, gently tugging my hair.
