CHAPTER TEN
PATIENCE WANDERED AROUND the main showroom of Paper Moon Wedding Gowns. Big windows opened up onto the small square of “exclusive shops” in the center of Fool’s Gold. Across the courtyard were the brightly colored windows for da bump Maternity. A humorous connection for those who weren’t getting married or pregnant.
Inside the shop, several wedding dresses were on display, with more racks of them available for browsing. There was a second, smaller room devoted to bridesmaids’ dresses and gowns for the mother of the bride.
“I swear, this place hasn’t changed at all,” Patience said, touching the sleeve of a beautiful, traditional white gown.
Isabel wrinkled her nose. “That would be part of the problem. We’re well into a new century. The store should reflect that. The stock is current. My mom paid attention to trends, but the rest of the place is very 1999.”
“You’re going to change that?”
“As much as possible. I have a budget and some ideas. If we’re going to sell, we might as well get as much as we can for the place. That means making it fresh.”
Paper Moon had always been a part of the community. Patience remembered friends with older sisters coming in to be fitted for junior bridesmaids’ dresses. Before the samples went on sale, the teenaged girls were allowed to come in and play “bride for a day,” trying on different dresses and wondering what it would be like on that far-off special day.
“I bought my wedding dress here,” Patience admitted. “From the sale rack, which turned out to be a good thing. It wasn’t like the marriage lasted.”
“I’m sorry,” Isabel said. “That must have been difficult. And you had Lillie, too.”
“She was who got me through. Her and my mom. They were both what kept me going.” Patience looked at her friend. “How are you doing with all the changes?”
Isabel shrugged. “I don’t know. Some days are easy, some are hard. Come on back to the office. I’ll buy you a soda.”
They walked through the dressing-room area. There were two fitting rooms large enough to accommodate the fullest of skirts. Each had several chairs for the various family members who might be in on the decision. Smaller fitting rooms, still huge by normal standards, lined the back wall. In the middle of the space were a five-way mirror and a low platform where the bride-to-be could show off.
Isabel walked past all of it and entered a door marked Private. Behind that was an office with several desks, a table and chairs, computers, stacks of fabric samples and a small refrigerator.
“Diet okay?” she asked as she pulled open the door.
“My favorite.”
She removed two cans, then motioned to the chairs by the table.
“This is the store that time forgot,” Isabel said as she popped the top on her drink and took a sip. “When I first saw it, I felt like I’d been whipped back in time ten years. I knew my parents had lost their enthusiasm for the place, but the lack of changes was surprising.”
“You’re not tempted to just take it over and fix it up how you’d like it?”
Isabel shook her head. “No, thanks. I have plans and they don’t include sticking around here. I know you love it, but I would go crazy here.”
“In the store or in town?”
“The store for sure. I couldn’t deal with the brides for the rest of my life. I want to do something more. It’s not the retail I mind. As I mentioned before, I have plans with a friend to open a store in New York. High-fashion designs. Very upscale.”
“That’s still retail, my friend.”
Isabel smiled. “New York retail.”
“So you’re really going back?”
“Uh-huh.”
Patience wondered what it would be like to live somewhere else. She’d never not known her neighbors or the people in her town. She understood the rhythms of life—with seasons marked by festivals as well as the changes in weather.
“I suppose New York is exciting,” she said slowly.
Isabel laughed. “You’re are such a country mouse, and I say that with love. I can’t see you living anywhere else.”
“Me, either. Isn’t it hard to make friends and figure out where everything is?”
“Yes, but that’s what makes it exciting. The city is big and loud and crazy and I enjoy that.” She took another sip of her soda. “But I’ll admit, it’s nice to be here, even for a few months.”
“Getting away from what happened?”
Isabel’s blue eyes darkened with a flash of pain. “Eric and I are still friends, but I don’t care how friendly a divorce is. It’s not something easy to go through.”
“Have you talked to him much?”
“A few times. I’m not sure what to say.” She looked at Patience. “I’m actually not surprised we split up, and yet I’m completely shocked. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
Patience suspected in her heart she’d known something was wrong. But living a divorce was completely different from guessing there was a problem in the relationship.
“You’re still healing,” Patience said. “The cliché about time happens to be true. After Ned left, I didn’t think I would ever recover. But I did. Now I can’t imagine what it was I saw in him.”
“I’ll get there, too,” Isabel said. “At least I hope so. It’s just some days I feel so pathetic. When some excited, bright-eyed bride-to-be walks in the store, I can’t help wondering if she’ll still be married to the guy in twenty years or if she’ll be a statistic, too.” She sighed. “Okay, I’ve officially become the depressing friend. I don’t want that.”
“You’re still healing. Give yourself a break.”
Isabel managed a smile. “What? You’re saying beating myself up isn’t the quickest way to a happier tomorrow?”
“Not even close. You’ve temporarily left New York. Take advantage of that. Lose yourself in the quaint, small-town gooeyness that is Fool’s Gold. Go to a festival. Gain five pounds from eating locally made goat cheese. Seduce a handsome tourist.”
“Not sure I’m up to that last suggestion, but the others sound fun.”
Patience drank some of her soda. “You’re not ready for transition guy?”
“Not even close.” Isabel studied her. “I can’t see you having one, either. Not with a child to worry about.”
Patience was too embarrassed to admit there hadn’t been a man in her life since Ned left. “No transitional man for me, either. I was busy with Lillie, and now it’s been too long. But I do like the theory.” She grinned. “Ford is coming home any day now. What about him? You had a huge crush on him years ago. Maybe he’s still gorgeous and sexy.”
Isabel’s expression brightened. “If only that were true. You promised he wouldn’t be.” She sighed, obviously remembering. “I was so insanely in love with him.”
“The love of a fourteen-year-old girl is very special.”
Isabel laughed. “I hope he saw it that way rather than as something he had to escape.” Her smile turned rueful. “Of course, my sister had just dumped him, so I doubt he had much time to think about my feelings. He was too busy wrestling with his own.”
Patience had been only a couple of years older than Isabel, but even she remembered the scandal. Ford had been engaged to Maeve, Isabel’s older and very beautiful sister. Only a few weeks before the wedding, he’d caught Maeve in bed with his best friend, Leonard. Words and possibly blows had been exchanged. Maeve had been apologetic, but refused to give up Leonard. The engagement had been broken and Ford had left town. He’d joined the navy, had become a SEAL and until recently had pretty much never returned.
There had been the one or two weekends when he’d been spotted around town, but mostly he’d seen his family in other places. Patience wasn’t sure if that was a logistical choice or if he’d been avoiding Maeve. Either way, after close to fourteen years, he was coming home now.
“Maybe he kept all your letters,” Patience said, her voice teasing. “Read them when things were tough.”
Isabel laughed. “Sure he did. Because hearing about my life was so special. I just hope I edited myself and didn’t dump on him, emotionally. High school is never pretty, and I don’t think telling him about my experiences would have been very entertaining.”
Patience leaned toward her and lowered her voice. “Or they could have been extremely entertaining.”
Isabel winced. “Oh God. You’re right. I remember going to a prom with a guy named Warren. There was no happy ending.” She picked up her soda. “I’m sure I didn’t mention that.”
“You could get on the welcome committee,” Patience told her. “Be one of the first to greet him.”
“There’s a welcome committee?”
“Not that I’ve heard of, but who knows what this town will do? Ford is a returning hero.”
“He’s going to hate hearing that over and over again.”
“You could comfort him.”
Isabel sighed. “Stop trying to throw us together. The man isn’t even home yet.”
“I’m a romantic. I can’t help it. One of us has to have a summer romance.”
“I’m fresh off a divorce. Any romance is up to you. What about that guy? Justice?”
Patience cleared her throat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Isabel raised her eyebrows. “Uh-huh. You’re blushing.”
Patience ducked her head. “I am not.” But she was. She could feel the heat on her cheeks. “I like him,” she admitted. “But it’s confusing. Exciting, but confusing.”
“Good luck with that. I’m the last person you should come to for advice. I still have a tan line from my wedding ring.”
Patience sighed. “I really am sorry about that.”
“Me, too. But I’ll move on.”
* * *
“OKAY, so here’s the counter, obviously. And this is where the magic will happen.” Patience ran her hands over the large espresso machine. It was big and shiny and the most perfect thing she’d ever seen. At least in the mechanical world. Lillie was the most perfect in the life-form department.
“I know all the specs by heart,” she continued. “Want me to tell you how many cups per hour and the amount of milk we’ll go through making lattes?”
Justice leaned against the counter and smiled at her. “If it’s important to you.”
“It is but I won’t torture you. Not when you’ve said you’ll help me.”
There were the last, most recent boxes of mugs and plates to be unpacked. As the dishwasher wasn’t coming in until next week, they would also have to be stacked neatly next to the others in preparation for their professional sanitizing.
She turned toward the space that would be filled by a very large dishwasher and sighed. “Held up by a shipping glitch,” she said. “Mom and I decided that since we hadn’t picked an actual date for the opening, we’re going to delay it three days. That way the dishwasher will be installed and we’ll have more time to train the staff.”
She drew in a breath and pressed her hands together. “There’s going to be staff. Actual employees. And we have our food on order and the coffee is here. We’ll have intermittent times when we’re open for about a week, then the real thing.”
She turned to him. “You said you could make it. Is that still true?”
“Yes. My trip’s been cut back—I’ll only be gone a couple of days.”
“To the dangerous place you can’t name.”
His blue eyes brightened with amusement. “That’s the one.”
“You could give me a hint. Is it an island or a continent?”
“There’s a big size difference there. It’s a continent.”
“But not this one.”
“No.”
She tilted her head. “You’re really not going to tell me, are you?”
“I’m not.”
“Fine. Be that way. I still owe you. You’ve helped so much. So when you’re ready to unpack your bullets or whatever for CDS, I’ll be there for you.”
“No bullets.”
“I thought you were going to have a shooting range.”
“Okay, some bullets.”
She beamed. “See. I can be helpful.”
It was a beautiful spring afternoon, with sunlight spilling in through the freshly washed windows. Crisp curtains fluttered in the breeze or would if the windows were open. Right now they were closed and the front door was locked. Patience had learned if she didn’t keep the place locked, people tended to wander in and ask when she would open. While she appreciated the interest, every conversation took time, which meant she was always running behind on her work schedule.
She looked at the tables and chairs, the humming cold case and the shiny floor. There was coffee for sale on the shelves, along with various coffee supplies. The last delivery of mugs, glasses and plates had come in. She’d hired some help, been instructed on using all the equipment and once the dishwasher made its debut, she would be ready to open the doors to her new business.
“I can’t believe it,” she admitted. “This is really happening. Did you see the sign?”
“I saw the sign.”
She clasped her hands together in front of her waist. “I love it so much.”
The logo she and her mother had chosen was a yellow oval with a red coffee cup in the middle. Adorable hearts graced the cup. “We’re going to have T-shirts and aprons with the design,” she added.
“You mentioned that.”
She looked at him. “Is that your polite way of saying I’m getting boring?”
“You could never be boring.”
She frowned. There was something about the way he was looking at her. An intensity. She couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, but something was wrong.
She crossed to him. “Justice, what is it?”
“Nothing. We should start unpacking your mugs.”
She put her hand on his chest, as much to feel the rock-hard muscles as to hold him in place. “Am I keeping you from something?”
He took a step back and shoved his hands in his pockets. “No. But you’re on a schedule.”
He wasn’t making sense. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
His expression sharpened. He looked away, then back at her. He muttered something under his breath, then moved so quickly he was a blur. One second he was putting distance between them; the next he was hauling her against him and pressing his mouth to hers.
The kiss shocked her, but only for a second. Then she leaned into him, wanting to take all he offered. He moved his tongue against hers, igniting sparks and inspiring need. His hands moved from her waist to her back, then lower, cupping her rear. She grabbed hold of his shoulders, feeling the power in his arms. From there it was an easy journey to his chiseled chest.
“Patience,” he breathed against her mouth before kissing his way along her jawline to that sensitive spot below her ear. He nipped on the lobe before drifting lower.
His tongue teased even as he grated lightly with his teeth. Shivers rippled through her. He went down and down, across her collarbone to the neckline of her T-shirt. After dipping his tongue into the valley between her breasts, he made the return journey up the other side.
With each brush, each nibble, she found it difficult to breathe. Her skin was sensitized, her body exquisitely poised for the next erotic assault. Her breasts ached and she knew her nipples had tightened into anxious points. Between her thighs she was already wet.
Her head dropped back, giving him more access. When he shifted his hands to her breasts, she closed her eyes to avoid the distraction of looking instead of feeling.
As his thumbs and forefingers closed over her nipples, his mouth settled on hers. He pushed his tongue inside and stroked her in rhythm with the magic he worked on her breasts. The combination had her straining toward him. Liquid heat pooled in her center and she knew she was seconds away from begging him to never stop.
He dropped his hands to her waist and drew her against him. She went willingly, needing the contact. His erection was hard against her belly and she pressed into him, happy to know she wasn’t the only one enjoying their game.
Only Justice wasn’t playing. He cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes.
“I want you,” he breathed.
Words designed to thrill, she thought, as a shiver raced through her.
“I want you, too,” she murmured before she could think if that was wise or not. And then more truth tumbled out. “But I’m not on any birth control, and it’s not like I came prepared.”
She hated to be practical. In a perfect world they would both suddenly be naked, maybe on a private beach somewhere or on a bed in the forest. They would make love with no awkward bits or consequences. Only life wasn’t that tidy.
He held her gaze for a handful of heartbeats, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom.
“Oh.” She blinked. “Either you’re a careful planner or we have to talk about your lifestyle.” Because being with a man who always hoped to get lucky wasn’t her idea of a good time.
“I’ve been a careful planner since my second week in town. And only around you,” he added. “It wasn’t an assumption. It was wishful thinking.” He touched her cheek. “About you, Patience. No one else.”
She felt any stern resolve melt away. “You mean you don’t have a thing for Mayor Marsha?”
“Sorry, no.”
“I’m not sure that’s something you need to apologize for,” she said, leaning into him.
He pulled her against him and lowered his head. Their mouths brushed once, twice, before he settled in for a good long kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and gave herself over to the sensation of being seduced by him.
His mouth was gentle yet determined. He claimed her with an intensity that left her breathless. Just when she was wishing he would start touching her in other places, he began easing her backward, toward the storeroom.
Not a bad idea, she thought, realizing the main part of the store had windows that faced one of Fool’s Gold’s primary streets. Perhaps getting naked in front of traffic and pedestrians wasn’t the best plan.
She pulled back as she realized doing “it” surrounded by boxes and packing crates wasn’t, either.
“There’s no real place,” she began as she stepped away from him and moved toward the doorway. “It’s not like I keep a pile of blankets around or a cot. We don’t even have stairs. I’ve seen people have sex on stairs in the movies. It looks really uncomfortable. Besides, I’m not very bendy and I haven’t done it in a while...”
Her voice trailed off as she realized he was simply watching her.
She swallowed. “I’m just saying it’s been a long time and I might not be very good.”
The last confession was delivered in a whisper.
“About done?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Have you changed your mind or are you nervous?”
She licked her lips. “You know. That second one.”
Something flashed in his blue eyes; then he crossed to her and pulled off her T-shirt. Just like that. Without asking. There they were in a small back room with shelves and boxes and a big hole where the dishwasher was going to go, and he was taking off her clothes.
“I remember the first time I met you,” he said, turning her so that she stood with her back to him. He picked up her hair and shifted it over one shoulder, then lightly kissed the back of her neck.
“You were fourteen and I was eighteen and scared as hell. But then you walked into history, sat next to me, smiled and introduced yourself. That was it. One smile and I was hooked.”
The warm heat of his mouth made her break out in goose bumps. “You were?”
“Uh-huh. Being around you made me feel I wasn’t on the run. I could pretend I was just like everyone else.”
She started to turn to face him, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead he held her in place, her back to his front, her butt nestling against his erection. He settled his hands on her belly, his fingers splayed. She watched as he moved them around in a slow circle.
“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted, doing just that on her neck. “I wanted to hold you and touch you.” He hesitated. “Let’s just say there was more to the fantasy.”
“I’m scandalized,” she murmured, a smile in her voice.
“I knew I was too old for you and the wrong guy, but I couldn’t help myself.”
He slid his hands up to her breasts and cupped them, as he had before. The difference was now she could see what he was doing. She could watch him move his fingers against her bra, focusing on her tight nipples, and at the same time, she could feel the electric jolt that surged through her.
“Even after I left, I thought about you,” he continued. “All the time. I never forgot you.”
His hands moved against her breasts, exploring them, his fingers returning again and again to her nipples. With each stroke, she found it more difficult to breathe. Maybe it was her, but the room seemed to be getting a little warmer. And wouldn’t this all be better if there weren’t so many layers of clothing between her and what he was doing?
“I want to just...” She reached between them and unfastened her bra.
He pushed it away and paused for a moment. She knew he was looking over her shoulder, staring at her. She wasn’t huge, but figured he’d guessed that already. If he was expecting big boobs, he wouldn’t have started this in the first place.
He returned his hands to her breasts, his tan skin a contrast to her pale flesh. He inched his thumbs closer to her nipples. As she watched, she saw the puckered flesh almost strain toward him, as if seeking his—
He swore and spun her, then bent down to capture her nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard, pulling her in deep. She hung on to him, as wanting surged through her, making her knees weak.
He shifted to the other breast and repeated his actions, this time adding his tongue to the mix. She let her head fall back as she grew more aroused by the second.
Back and forth, back and forth. She touched his head, wanting to feel his cool, soft hair. Wanting to hold him in place.
As he continued to minister to her breasts, he reached for her waistband. As he undid the button, she shifted so she could put her toe to her heel and slide out of her athletic shoes. She took care of her other foot just as he slid down the zipper. Then Justice pushed her jeans down to just past her hips. Her tiny panties went along for the ride and she seemed to be helping and before she knew what was happening, she was stepping out of the last of her clothes.
She had just enough time to register the fact that she was standing there, naked in her storeroom, when he slid a hand between her legs. Even as one finger slipped inside her wet, swollen body, his thumb found her core and circled it.
She gasped as her world reduced itself to the man holding her and the sensations he could produce. She was all hunger and need, desperate to have more of what he offered. She couldn’t think, could barely breathe. She parted her legs and surrendered to the pleasure pouring through her.
Another circle, another tease. He moved his finger in and out, making her push toward the contact and wish there was more. The soles of her feet burned. Her body trembled. If he hadn’t kept an arm around her waist, she would have fallen.
She was sure he planned some long, fancy seduction, but she had been without for what felt like six lifetimes. Or maybe it was just being with Justice, knowing she trusted him with the very heart of her. Either way, she couldn’t hold back. Couldn’t do anything but feel the steady strokes over and over, the growing tension.
She whispered his name even as she moved her hips in time with his hand. Tension grew as she pushed toward her release. Pushed and strained and then she was coming and shuddering and hanging on as if she would never stop.
He stayed with her, holding her steady, touching her, plunging in and out. She cried out as the pleasure filled her, then overflowed.
But it wasn’t enough, she thought frantically. Even as the shudders faded, she still wanted more. She turned to him and fumbled with his belt. Fortunately, the man wasn’t an idiot. He pulled out the condom, then helped her with his jeans. After shoving them down, he put on the condom and reached for her.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked, looking around for a table or a—
He wrapped his arms around her waist and raised her off the floor. She barely had time to scream before he lowered her onto him, filling her until she knew she was going to die from the wonder of it. He eased them both against the wall, bracing her, then withdrew and filled her again.
Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips. The movement brought her core right against him so that every stroke, every push, aroused her even more.
Later she would figure out how strong he had to be to support her like that. Later she would think about mechanics and physics, but right now all she cared about was him thrusting into her. Hard and fast, as if he could do it forever.
She wanted to watch him, to sense him getting closer. Only what he was doing felt too good. He was hitting something deep inside, some place filled with sensation and pleasure. She worked with him, pushing down as he pushed up, straining to get closer, wanting, wanting...
“Patience.”
Her name came out with a guttural cry. She felt the tension in him and knew he was close. His gaze locked with hers as he struggled to hold back.
She was close, too, on the edge of her release. But not yet there. Not yet ready. She needed...
“Come for me.”
Apparently she needed for him to ask, she thought as she arched against him and shuddered. Her orgasm ripped through her, making her hang on as she flexed and writhed and pulled his release from him. They drove toward each other, calling out, their contractions matching and growing before easing into complete satisfaction.
When she was conscious again, she felt the trembling in his arms and suspected it had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with exhaustion.
“Put me down,” she told him.
“I’m not going to drop you.”
She smiled. “Let’s not test that theory.”
He lowered her to the floor, but didn’t release her. Instead he held her close. She felt his heart pounding in his chest. They were both sweaty and breathing hard and she never wanted to let go.
“Amazing,” she breathed, then wondered if she should have been slightly more restrained.
He chuckled. “I agree. If this is you with no practice, I’m going to have to be careful. In another couple of weeks, you’ll be so good you’ll kill me.”
“I promise not to let things get that far.”
He straightened and kissed her. “I’m willing to risk it.”
When they parted, she had a moment to realize that while she was completely naked, he was nearly fully dressed. But while the clothes-gathering could have been awkward, it wasn’t. Justice steadied her while she slipped into her panties and insisted on doing up her bra himself. That led to him making sure it fit right and checking out whether or not he could squeeze his hand between her breast and the cup, which led to more kissing, so it was a while until she was clothed again.
When they finally returned to the main room, she was feeling relaxed and smug. She wanted to think she’d just forgotten how good sex could be but had a feeling making love with Justice was in a special category. Which meant she was unlikely to duplicate the experience with anyone else.
Nerves surfaced, but before she could squash them, someone knocked on the locked front door of the store.
Patience crossed to open it. She didn’t recognize the woman standing there and wondered if she was a lost tourist.
“Can I help you?” she asked, taking in the other woman’s long, wavy hair and warm smile. Her irises were cat’s-eye green. She was tall and lean, but with a hint of perfect curves under her tailored black pantsuit.
She looked so happy to be there, Patience couldn’t help smiling back. Only to realize the happiness wasn’t aimed at her.
“Justice!”
The tall, elegant woman brushed past Patience and launched herself at Justice. Just as horrible, he caught her in his arms and swung her around.
“You made it,” he exclaimed.
“Of course. I couldn’t let you be here all by yourself.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
All the pleasure Patience had just experienced bled away, leaving her with the sense of having been played for a fool.