Thursday
Thursday morning found Tara busy with the volunteers, but as soon as she was free from her duties she texted Remy. He met her in the pool and they chased each other around, splashing and laughing like a couple of kids. When they were soaked and breathless, they moved to the hot tub to relax. Remy told her all about the local jazz festivals back in New Orleans.
“I’m jealous. Boston is more alternative rock, new age punk, that sort of thing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot of fun, but I’d love to see a jazz fest with the brass and the blues.”
He smiled. “If you ever make it down, I have a couch you can sleep on and a warehouse you can shift in.”
She laughed. “Oh, how could I turn down such inviting accommodations?”
Their conversation meandered from music to education to politics until they were both red faced and starting to feel the heat.
“I guess I should go shower off.”
“Me too,” she said. “The chlorine does horrible things to my hair.”
“Do you have any volunteer duties waiting for you?”
“Not until after lunch.”
“Want to get an early start on lunch? I can meet you down in the restaurant as soon as I’m out of the shower and dressed again.” Really, he just didn’t want this time to end. The more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her – whether she was in that teasing blue bikini or not.
“Sounds like a plan. Last one down to the restaurant has to pay?”
“You’re on.”
They grabbed their towels and shirts and power walked to the door. Once they were on carpet, they jogged to the elevators. Remy had to go across the lobby to get to his bank of elevators, but luckily for him someone was just getting on as he got there and he didn’t have to wait.
He jogged down the hall, key card in hand, and was shimmying out of his wet bathing suit even as the door clicked shut behind him. He hung it in the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stuck his head under the water and rinsed the chlorine from his hair then shut the water off again. He toweled off as he walked and grabbed his clothes from that morning.
Tara hurried to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. She looked around, worried one of the volunteers would spot her and want to talk or want help with something. The doors opened and she waited for the couple inside to step out, smiling politely at them.
She hurried off the elevator and down the hall to her room. She was fumbling with her key card when she heard her father’s voice from behind the door next to hers. From the broken pattern of his speech, she assumed he was on the phone. She hurried and managed to get her door open just as she saw the handle on his door turn. She slipped inside and eased her door shut, praying he wouldn’t knock.
He didn’t.
She breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to get showered and changed. She got into the shower still in her bathing suit and stripped there. She washed her hair, skipping the conditioner, and stepped out again. She was glad her hair was on the shorter side and was relatively easy to brush as she toweled it dry.
She tossed on her clothes from that morning, tossed her key card in her purse, and ran a brush through her hair. Then it was straight back out and down the hall to the elevators.
Remy stepped off the elevator and scanned the lobby. No sign of Tara. Either she was on her way down or she was way ahead of him. The stern looking older gentleman at the lobby desk was enough to dissuade him from jogging the rest of the way to the restaurant. Either he’d already lost, or already won, and being glared at wasn’t going to change that. He tucked his hands in his pockets and strolled across the lobby. He smiled and nodded to the clerk. He was five feet from the restaurant doors when someone said, “Excuse me,” from behind him.
Automatically he stepped to the side and Tara brushed passed him. He gave his head a shake and tried not to grin as she breezed into the restaurant and sat down at an empty table for two. She smiled back at him, waiting patiently.
He settled across from her. “Nicely done.”
“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”
Late Thursday afternoon found them outside in the garden playing chess. It was fun and challenging and the added physicality of the large board and pieces made it far more entertaining than sitting at a table all afternoon.
When the game was over Tara said, “It’s not warm yet, is it?”
“No. I think my fingers are going numb.”
“You’re really not used to this weather, are you?”
“Not one bit. And I don’t want to get used to it. I can’t wait to get home to my balmy spring and my hot, humid summer.”
“So you want to go relax in the hot tub for a while?”
“I knew it. I should have let you win. Now you’re trying to drown me again.”
“Sticking with what works.” She wrapped her hands around his arm and smiled up at him. “And if threatening to drown you doesn’t work maybe offering to change into a bikini will.”
He could vividly remember her in that two-piece bathing suit and the way the bottoms clung to her bottom. He hoped the cold wind had made his cheeks rosy enough to hide his blush. “I – uh …”
“How to say, ‘you look hot in a bikini’ while still saying ‘I respect you as a person’ huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Remy, you’re about the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, werebear or not.” She tugged his coat sleeve so he’d lean down and then kissed his cheek. “Besides, I’m offering to let you stare,” she whispered in his ear.
Before she could step back, he was kissing her. She’d been flirting, she knew it, but still the kiss caught her by surprise and that was causing her heart to flutter and a hot spot to build in the pit of her stomach. She wanted this kiss, loved the feel of his lips against hers, even if his nose was cold. When she stepped back, he looked at his shoes. Embarrassed? That’s kind of sweet. She reached out and took his hand. “Hot tub?”
He smiled at her, his expression sheepish. “You still want to?”
“Definitely.”
They were having coffee Thursday evening when Tara said, “So, did you go to New York the last time the Chiefs got together?”
He nodded. “It was awfully boring. I’d only shifted twice before that meeting. And I was stuck in this giant room with a bunch of the Chief’s wives and a bunch of other kids and teens for the whole conference. More than anything I just wanted to be back home with Brock.”
“It was awful, wasn’t it?”
“You were there?”
She nodded. “I hadn’t even shifted yet. We didn’t know if I was even going to. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. And they wouldn’t let me pack any books. I was so bored and the ladies supervising us kept trying to force us to socialize and play all these tacky games.”
“I would never have recognized you,” he said.
She laughed. “I should hope not. I was an awkward ten-year-old.”
“But maybe that’s why I feel like I know you so well. Maybe on some subliminal level I knew I’d met you before.”
She laughed again. “I doubt that. But I know what you mean. I feel like we’ve been friends for years.” She reached out and took his hands. “It’s a nice feeling, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to be pretty busy tomorrow.”
“Message me the second you’re free and we’ll do something. It’s been a day and a half and I already don’t know what I’ll do if we don’t get to talk tomorrow. God, does that sound creepy?”
“No. I was thinking the same thing – that I wanted to see you again, and that I’d probably sound creepy saying something. I’m not an overly needy female, I promise.”
“I didn’t think you were. I’m not a control freak male.”
“That’s good. I already get enough of that from my Chief.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen. “Speaking of which. He’s probably looking for me.”
“I hate to cut the evening short.”
“I know. Me too.” She scooted out of her chair. “But I know better than to cross him.” She kissed Remy’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”