Dangerous Passion Page 5
“No damn way.” I sighed at the beauty of it. There’s very little in this world sexier than a confident woman who can shoot pool. “Can I be your manager and take you on the circuit? We could clean up.”
“No, but you can answer a question.” She moved close to me so I could hear her above the music and the chattering voices of the crowd at the bar. “Tell me the significance of dinosaurs. It’s about more than the normal interest kids have in them.”
She’d punched me in the gut with her observation. This wasn’t fun or funny anymore. But I kept a smile pinned on my face as I said, “That’s not a question.”
“All right. How’s this? Why did you like dinosaurs as a kid so much you named your bar after one as an adult?”
“I don’t know. I just liked them. You know how kids are.”
“Yeah.” She gazed at me and waited for more.
“I watched the Jurassic Park movies too many times. Had all of them on these old VHS tapes from somebody’s garage sale. I played them till our machine broke.” I lifted my hands. “That’s it. The whole story. You wasted a question.”
Gina looked into my eyes a couple of beats longer, seeing—something. Probing too deeply and making me squirm inside. Then she nodded. “Fair enough.”
She turned back to the table, and I drew a breath.
She missed her next lay, which was so much easier than the previous one she should have easily sunk it. Her concentration was off too. That made me feel a little better.
I shook myself loose from memories and grasped my cue. Damned if I’d let her know she’d rattled me, which would only make her more curious about the fucking dinosaurs.
Annoyance more than skill saw me through the next couple of shots, which I delivered to their pockets with sharp, hard thrusts. Unfortunately, a little too hard, because I scratched on the eleven ball and had to surrender my turn again. And I’d been so distracted I’d forgotten to turn the tables on Gina and ask her any questions.
I watched glumly as she cleared the table, including that final eight ball.
She gave me a smug smile. “One-zero.”
“You’re adorable.” I leaned close enough to smell her shampoo and feel strands of her soft hair brush my cheek and murmured, “But you know what hustling is, right? You lose a few so you can win the whole enchilada.”
Gina shorted. “Oh, I see. You threw that one. Okay. Guess I’ll have to up my game.”
I chuckled and, since I was so close, I kissed the corner of her mouth before I stepped back. Now who’d be rattled?
She blinked in surprise, and her lips parted, looking more kissable than ever. Then she tightened her mouth in a straight line and brandished her cue like a weapon as I racked the balls. Her break shot was powerful, but though the balls shot everywhere, miraculously none landed.
I took control of both the table and the questioning. “How about you? Willing to answer a question if I sink a shot?”
She wrinkled her nose as she assessed the table. “You have at least three clear shots. Kind of like shooting fish in a barrel, isn’t it? But I guess. Sure. Why not.”
I easily pocketed three more balls in quick succession. “There. Three shots for one question.” I prowled toward her, stopped inches in front of her, and slid my hand down the cue propped between us until the backs of my knuckles grazed the crotch of her jeans. “What color panties are you wearing?”
Gina’s bray of laughter resounded through the bar and made heads turn. Damn, I loved her full-bodied laugh.
“Light blue. Wanna see ’em?” she answered promptly.
“Actually, yes.” I covertly reached for her zipper.
She slapped my hand away. “Funny.”
I mock-pouted. “All right. Later, then. After I win my night with you.”
I was on a roll, crowing inside as I cleared two more balls before missing.
Then Gina took over, no holds barred now, and no time for questions. Her dark eyebrows knitted together in a frown of concentration, and she caught up with me before scratching again.
The base of her cue rested on the floor, and she absently slid her hand up and down its length, an unthinking movement that was so suggestive it made my balls ache. Oh hell, yeah, I was going to win this game and have my way with her.
I took my time lining up my next shot. I was way too tense, and I’d miss for sure if I didn’t loosen up. “How about another question if I make this one?” I asked.
“Sure. Okay.” She was so confident I’d miss the difficult shot that her eyes opened wide when I made it.
I grinned evilly. There were so many suggestive things I wanted to ask her about her favorite sexual position or how many guys she’d been with or what kind of porn she enjoyed. I’d make her blush and put her off balance so she’d hopefully muff her next shot. Besides, I honestly wanted to know what level of experience she had.
Again I stalked over to Gina with a swagger, curled a hand around the back of her neck, and leaned close. I heard her breath catch before I whispered, “What’s… your middle name?”
I pulled back to look at her from so close I could see the topaz flecks in her dark brown eyes. She didn’t burst into laughter this time, although she did smile at the innocuous question. She licked her lips as she stared back at me, and I knew she wanted me to kiss her—so I didn’t.
“Giorgina Alma Torrio, in honor of my grandma who died the year I was born.”
“Giorgina Alma,” I repeated softly. “That’s pretty. Sorry to hear about your grandma.”
“Well, I never knew her so…” She trailed off, eyes dilated darkly and focused on my mouth now. That sweet pink tongue darted out to wet her lips again. “I’m told she was a feisty, opinionated lady.”
“Going by her namesake, I’d believe that.” I looped one of the curls beside her face around my finger and tugged lightly before letting go. Then I moved back, clearing her way to the table. Try to concentrate now.
Gina blinked and lifted her cue. She strode to the pool table and studied it for a moment before taking—and missing—her shot. She cursed under her breath.
I stepped up confidently, but scratched, which made it easier on Gina because she could place the cue ball where she needed in order to easily remove the rest of hers from the table.
My turn to curse. If she made the eight ball, she’d have won two out of three games, and I’d be hers to boss around for an evening. I wondered what she’d ask me to do. The way she’d given me that searing gaze, she might be picturing the same ending to the night I was. Or, more likely, she’d have me perform some menial task she needed muscle for. It was almost worth losing to find out.
Gina missed the eight in the side pocket, and I had a chance to win and go for the tiebreaker game. I knocked my last ball from the table and prepared to shoot the eight ball.
“Corner pocket,” I called as I sighted down the cue.
I stole one last glance at Gina and gave her a wink before I drew back my arm and tapped the cue ball with the stick. It shot forward, clicked against the eight, and the ball began to roll.
Chapter Eight
Gina
“You sure you’re ready for this?” I tossed a glance at Micah over one shoulder as I opened the door to Mrs. Heidelberg’s house. “’Cause there’s no turning back once we cross this threshold.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah. I’m absolutely ready. This is what I’ve dreamed of.”
“Me too. I think we’re both going to enjoy it.”
I led the way into the foyer.
Crystal, the aide who’d taken over for the day, came chugging from inside the house like a locomotive. She was a large woman, which was helpful when it came to dealing with plus-size dementia patients. Normally she and I got along well, but now she was glaring at me as she jammed her arms into her coat. “You’re late. You were supposed to be here a half hour ago.”
“Sorry. Traffic was—”
“I don’t care. Don’t cut it so close next time. I have my kid’s b
irthday party tonight. I need to get home to get ready.”
I winced and repeated, “Sorry.” I felt guilty and also didn’t want to piss off a coworker whom I might need to cover for me sometime.
“She had her afternoon meds. And I just cleaned and changed her into a nightie because she messed herself. It’s all on the chart. Right now she’s watching some old musical.” Crystal shouldered her huge purse and gave Micah a once-over. “You’re bringing in dates now? You know that’s against HomeCare policy.”
“Oh, he’s not a date. He’s entertainment for Sonia. I won him in a pool match. We’re going to play board games tonight.”
Micah nodded. “I’m just a trophy. I mean, a friend.”
“Ri-ight,” Crystal drawled.
“It’s true. I have a boyfriend. Gina’s just my gal pal.” Micah put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed.
Crystal rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m no snitch. Next time I fill in for you, don’t be late.” She huffed out the door, and I closed and locked it behind her.
I took a breath before I turned to face Micah. He looked out of place in Mrs. Heidelberg’s foyer with its antique chandelier and white marble floor, the curlicued brass coat tree and the side table with its vase of fake flowers.
A large mirror on the wall reflected us staring at each other. Micah, tall and rangy with his auburn hair messy rather than slicked back the way it had been the night I met him. He still had quirky taste in clothes. On our first date, he’d worn a vintage bowling shirt and shoes. Now he had on some old-guy-type golf shirt and checkered pants that managed to look great on his long legs.
Then there was my reflection, wide-eyed when I took a glance at myself. Wild haired too. I couldn’t seem to keep my curls in check. I recalled Micah looping one around his finger and gently pulling it straight before allowing it to spring back, and wildfire seared through me.
I shook off the heat and walked past Micah as if he didn’t set my skin alight. “All right, then. Let’s see what sort of mood Sonia is in tonight. Sometimes she loves her Scrabble, but other times… She gets tired a lot earlier recently.”
I could see her fading a little more every day. As if she had one foot in this world and the other already out the door.
“Sure thing. Whatever she wants.” Micah leaned in behind me and dropped his voice to a husky growl. “Whatever you want. I’m your slave for the night, after all. You won me fair and square.”
“Yes, I did.” I recalled with deep satisfaction the soft plunk of that final eight ball dropping sweetly in its pocket as if on my command. It had been a close match, and I wondered if Micah really would’ve requested sex if he’d been the winner of the night. If he had, would I have agreed to it, using the bet as an excuse to surrender, as if I didn’t dare refuse to honor the stupid wager?
But I had won, so I’d never know. As the winner, my only use for Micah this evening was going to be to entertain Sonia for a while. No messing around, no matter how turned on I was by the way he looked even in those ridiculous checkered trousers.
We went into the living room, where Sonia was swathed in a warm afghan and gazing vacantly at the TV. The dancing and singing of black-and-white musicals soothed her, although I’d recently shown her a current dance movie and she’d seemed to like that just as much.
“Hi, Sonia, how are you doing this evening?” I greeted her.
She slowly looked up from the screen, her meds making her sluggish. The mild sedative was necessary to take the edge off the late-afternoon bout of anxiety most dementia victims suffer. A light seemed to click on behind her eyes, and she smiled at me.
“Judith? You look so different. I hardly recognize you.”
I grinned back at her. “I changed my hairstyle.” Tonight I’d be her old high school friend, at least until she recast me as someone else from her past. “Look who I brought with me for Scrabble night.”
Sonia’s smile grew even brighter. “Ronnie! Are you home on leave?”
Micah leaned over and gave her a hug. “Yeah. I’m here for a little while. How are you, sis?”
I’d explained to him that Ron was Sonia’s brother who’d died in the 1980s. Micah played along with easy charm, sitting beside Sonia on the couch and joking with her until she wheezed with laughter.
His presence gave me time to set up the Scrabble board and put together a snack. Sonia ate like a bird at meals, so I liked to keep offering vegetables and fruit throughout the day. When I returned from the kitchen, Micah was finishing up a joke.
“Then the first guy says to the second one, ‘Well, if I’d known she was your wife…’”
Sonia cracked up and slapped his arm. “That’s so naughty. You’re awful.”
“Made you laugh, though, didn’t I?” Micah rose and offered his hand to help her to her feet. “Are you ready to whup my butt in Scrabble? It’ll be like taking candy from a baby. I can’t spell worth shi…worth beans.”
He helped her to the small game table and sat her down. I set out the plate of food and encouraged her to nibble, then went to get beverages.
“Now how many of these tiles do we take?” Micah asked her as I walked away.
I poured a glass of milk for Sonia and sodas for Micah and me, then sat and watched them interact for a little while. Micah was so good with her, keeping his good humor no matter how many times she repeated herself.
Sonia’s memory might be shot in some areas but damn, did the woman remember how to play Scrabble. She’d put down short words that racked up tons of points and add the numbers with the speed of a calculator. And Micah wasn’t lying when he said he sucked at spelling. She kept correcting him when he laid down misspelled words and ended up looking at his tray and playing his turns for him.
Micah shot me a look and a shrug and a cute grin that made my stomach flutter. He was too sweet and sexy, and I was too lonely to resist. I had little doubt the evening would end with us making out. But I’d be sure to stop it there.
I left them to their game and went around the house catching up on laundry and cleaning. I was Sonia’s full-service aide, paid extra to keep house as well as look after her personal needs and welfare. I didn’t want to think too hard about how HomeCare underpaid me for all I did, but without a nursing degree or special licensing, my pay scale would always be low.
When I was finished doing all my little tasks, including a few for myself, I returned to the living room.
Micah looked up with an expression of relief. “It’s getting pretty late,” he said to Sonia. “How about we finish this game tomorrow?”
“That’s so like you. You give up on things too easily if they don’t go your way,” she snapped.
The fact she was growing testy and abrasive was a sure sign she’d reached her limit.
“Say, would you like to get ready for bed?” I asked brightly.
“You’re staying for a sleepover?” she asked.
“Yeah, if that’s okay.”
With a grateful smile at Micah, I helped Sonia up and led her to her room. Unfortunately, she chose that night to dig her heels in about the downstairs bedroom. She’d changed rooms years before when she couldn’t handle the stairs any longer. But tonight she only remembered her childhood room on the second floor and threw a fit because I wouldn’t take her there.
Eventually, I quieted her down, got her to swallow her last meds of the day, and tucked her into bed, but she was still sullen. “This is ridiculous. This is Father’s office, not a bedroom.”
“It’s your room now,” I said firmly.
“What would you know about it? You can just go home if you’re going to be so mean, Judith. And I know what you’re thinking, but my brother doesn’t really like you that way. He’ll make you think he does, but he acts like that with all the girls.”
“Okay. I’ll remember that.”
She might be confused, but her spot-on words gave me little paper cuts. I had to remember what J.D. had said about Micah’s track record with women, and then I ha
d to decide if I was willing to do a one-nighter. Get my rocks off with him as he was doing with me, then move on. I’d done shallow before, but I didn’t want to anymore. I was over that phase in my life.
And I really didn’t want to think that Micah was being nice to me, going to all the trouble of fulfilling our bet and spending time with Sonia, just to eventually get me into bed. If so, I had to give him credit for going the extra mile.
I turned out Sonia’s light and closed the door as she grumbled quietly to herself. There was a nanny cam in her room so I could keep track of her movements if she got up in the night and fell. It linked to the laptop in my room so I could keep watch over her at all hours.
Micah waited for me outside her door, studying the photographs lining the wall. “Her dad was a judge or something?”
“Yeah. And he invested well. She still lives off that income. That’s how she can afford twenty-four-hour care in her home. She set it all up with her lawyer when her mind first started slipping.”
“No other family left to look after her? No kids or grandkids to visit her? That’s kind of sad.” Micah turned from the photos to face me.
“Yeah. Dementia is never pleasant, but a case like hers can be really depressing. After an entire lifetime, in the end she’s alone.”
“How do you deal with her day after day? It’s relentless. You must be some kind of saint to stay so patient.”
I shrugged and started toward the living room. Micah fell in step beside me.
“It’s a job,” I replied. “That may sound callous, but work like this you can’t let touch you too deeply. I have to care enough to be kind but not let her pain and loss get to me.”
“I still think you’re amazing, helping people like you do. Not everyone could do that.” The admiration in his voice felt like a stroke down my back. It smoothed my fur and made me purr.
I gave Micah a sideways look and a smile. “You help people. You give them booze, which they sorely need at the end of a long, hard day.”
“Right.” He laughed. “A very important service.”
We’d reached the living room, where the TV still played quietly. A different black-and-white movie was on, this one with gangsters and chic 1940s styles.