Macy's Awakening Read online

  He flicked on the light and walked across the kitchen to the coffeemaker. As he filled the carafe with cold water he felt Peter-the-cat begin to weave around his ankles.

  “Hey, buddy,” he said. “We have a visitor. Be nice to her in the morning, will you?”

  He’d developed the habit of talking aloud to the cat as if the animal could actually understand what he said. In return, Peter appeared to listen attentively. They’d established this new rapport shortly after Arlene and Allie moved out last year, leaving the cat behind. His growing attachment to Peter surprised him; he’d never thought of himself as a cat person. But it sure as hell beat talking to himself in the evenings.

  He measured out the coffee and shoved the pot against the tile backsplash. Then he took a clean mug from the cupboard and set it out where the girl would find it. He checked to make sure there was half-and-half in the fridge and sugar in the bowl. He imagined her coming in here in the morning, feeling a little bit lost, and finding the familiar comforts of home laid out for her. It was the least he could do.

  He climbed the stairs to the master bedroom and undressed in the dark, then went to the window overlooking the back yard and shoved it open to let in the night air. The honeysuckle bush he’d planted for Arlene on their fifteenth anniversary gave off its sweet, haunting perfume right below the window, sending a stab of confusion and regret through him. He wished he understood better what had happened between them. She had never given him a reason for leaving that made any sense to him.

  A sudden movement down in the yard caught his eye.

  He jerked back from the window.

  It was Macy. In the moonlight. Clothing optional.

  Moving forward a hair’s breadth, he peeked around the edge of the casement. With the lights off in his room, he realized she couldn’t see him. He grew bolder. From this window, the screen of plantings that gave privacy three quarters of the way around the hot tub didn’t block his view. He watched as she lay back, motionless, her eyes closed and face upturned. The jets were turned on, so the water swirled and coursed around her, revealing and then hiding her naked breasts.

  His cock jumped to attention.

  Her breasts were on the small side, in keeping with the slender proportions of her lithe little body, and her nipples were dark. Exposed to the water and night air, they puckered sweetly; even from here he could see the tips were firm and pointed. He licked his lips, imagining those nipples against his tongue, imagining what her latte-colored skin might taste like.

  Her hand moved languidly to one side, found the controls, and turned off the jets. The water stilled, imitating a calm forest pool now, lighted from beneath. The details of her lower body were indistinct, but through the slowing ripples he could see how her waist nipped in and her hips flared. He could make out the dark triangle where her thighs met her flat belly. His cock pulsed, got harder. He put his hand there to still it. The next thing he knew he was rubbing himself and staring at the girl’s naked breasts.

  This was bad. Really bad.

  * * * *

  Macy’s thoughts drifted like the scent of honeysuckle wafting across the yard. The night air was velvet on her face, caressing her breasts where they stuck out of the water. The liquid warmth surrounded her, buoyed her. For the first time since this whole ordeal began yesterday, she began to feel some small degree of peace.

  How much of her improved mood was this awesome hot tub? And how much was because Mr. Preston inspired in her a feeling of trust? She felt as if she could lay her troubles on his broad shoulders now and have faith that everything would work out. He had said he’d get her out of this mess, and she believed him.

  Judging from the man’s spacious home in this well-to-do neighborhood, he was good at his job. Successful. And he was definitely hot in that older-guy kind of way. Why wasn’t he married or living with someone? Was he gay?

  Nah. She remembered the way he’d been watching her at the burger place. He had definitely checked out her breasts.

  It was really kinda sad that a handsome guy like him went to bed all alone on a Friday night. But maybe he’d had a date that he’d had to cancel on her account. She hoped not. The last thing she wanted to do was interfere in her attorney’s personal life.

  The moon disappeared behind a cloud, and she shivered as the yard darkened. She reached for the big, soft towel folded at the edge of the tub and got out, wrapping it around herself before she crossed the yard and went up the stairs.

  Chapter 2

  Jerrod had planned to sleep late, as he usually did on Saturdays, but his eyes popped open at seven and wouldn’t close again. Insidious yearnings began to curl through his thoughts.

  Macy Wilson was there. Sleeping in his guest house. Beautiful girl with gold skin and haunting eyes. And sweet, pert breasts he wanted to see again.

  No! He squeezed his eyes shut and lay still, fists balled at his sides, willing his thoughts to something else. Anything else.

  The front lawn needed mowing.

  He should run the Lexus through the car wash today.

  He’d forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning yesterday afternoon.

  He needed to buy groceries for both the house and the guest apartment.

  He came up with a list of half a dozen things he could take care of today that didn’t involve restraining his libido. Finally, feeling a tad calmer, he rolled over and got up, pulling on jeans and a t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He needed to get this thing under control right now, before he made a damn fool of himself. Before he did or said something he’d regret.

  As he went down the stairs he heard noise from the kitchen, the clink of flatware and running water. He heard the girl’s voice talking low to someone. Was she on the phone?

  “Okay, kitty,” he heard her say now, “where does he keep your food?”

  “It’s in the laundry room,” Jerrod said as he walked in. He smiled in her direction without meeting her eyes, but she stunned him anyway. She was wearing a yellow sundress. A short yellow sundress. Bare legs. Little silver sandal things. Big hoops of silver in her ears.

  God.

  His groin began to ache again.

  “Sleep okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. The bed was very comfortable. I took you up on your offer of the hot tub too. So relaxing.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  Act like you haven’t seen her naked.

  “I see you’ve met Peter-the-cat.” He reached down and patted Peter, who looked perturbed as always. “I’ll show you where his food is. He won’t leave us alone until he’s had his breakfast.”

  She followed him into the laundry room and waited behind him while he opened the cupboard next to the dryer and pointed out the bin of pet food. He filled the plastic measuring cup with dry kibble and bent over to fill Peter’s bowl. She shifted her feet away, but not before he got a close up view of pearl-painted toenails and a delicate silver anklet. Even her feet were sexy. He swallowed hard and straightened up.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” His voice came out all wonky.

  “I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

  “Maybe just some cold cereal or toast?”

  “Just coffee is fine.” She smiled and brushed past him into the kitchen, and he caught a whiff of her perfume, a clean, powdery scent. He noticed that she had put on some kind of glossy lip stuff too, in a soft melon color. He wondered what her lips would taste like if he took her in his arms right now and covered her mouth with his.

  Just then the coffeemaker beeped three times.

  “I’m ready,” he said. “That is—the coffee’s ready.”

  * * * *

  Macy tried to keep her eyes on her shopping list as she walked beside their cart through the crowded supermarket. Jerrod—he insisted she call him that—had made a list as well of things he needed for the house, including entrée and salad ingredients for their dinners. He’d asked her if she enjoyed grilled steaks and salmon, and she’d said yes, trying to
picture the two of them sitting together in the high-walled garden as they waited for their meal to cook. What would they possibly find in common to talk about? His world and hers had only intersected because of the robbery in the mall.

  She had already added her own favorites to the basket—yogurt, string cheese, peanut butter, baby carrots, Coke. Now only the more personal items remained at the bottom of her list. If she was staying here for any length of time she would need more than just her travel size shampoo and conditioner and hair spray, plus tampons and panty liners. It was these last two items she was putting off buying. Maybe she’d come back later on her own. But without a car it might be difficult to do any errands. She wavered as he began to move toward the checkout counters.

  Suddenly he leaned over and made a playful grab for the scrap of paper she’d written on.

  “Let’s see that list of yours. If we hurry up and get out of here, we can go do something more enjoyable.”

  She saw his eyes travel down her list and then flick away as he got to the bottom. For a few beats he was silent, training his gaze elsewhere. Macy wished she could magically disappear.

  Then he shrugged and handed the paper back to her.

  “It’s all right.” He gave her a tight little smile. “I used to be married, you know. I have a daughter just a little younger than you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

  He wheeled the cart down the feminine hygiene aisle and waited while she grabbed what she needed, but she noticed him slant his glance away as she placed her purchases into the basket. Sighing in relief, she followed him to the checkout counter.

  “Hi, Jerrod.” The blonde checker greeted him, her kohl-rimmed eyes skimming over Macy and back to him.

  “Hi, Pam.”

  “Beautiful day out there, isn’t it?” She leaned forward, presenting him with a view of her freckled cleavage. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “Perfect.”

  “You got any fun plans for the day?” Her gaze moved dismissively over Macy once more, moved on, then lit on the tampons. Now she stared directly at Macy in a downright hostile way.

  Macy stuck out her chin and stared back. What was this woman’s problem? She had every right to be here with Jerrod, buying her stuff.

  “Thought we’d check out the blues festival later.” He seemed oblivious to what was going on around him.

  “Ooh, sounds like fun. Wish I could go this year, but I’m on the late shift all weekend. That’ll be eighty-seven, fifty-two.” With one more malevolent glance at her, Pam took his debit card and ran it through, gave him his receipt, and greeted the next customer in line.

  Could he really be as innocent as he seemed? The woman had practically drooled all over their groceries. As they left the store, Macy considered asking him about her, but then thought better of it. It was none of her business whether he was interested in the blonde checker with the big boobs. But she couldn’t help feeling a little sense of satisfaction at Pam’s reaction, maybe even a little possessive. It wasn’t all that unbelievable that she and Jerrod Preston could be a couple—was it?

  Did they look like a couple?

  She glanced back at their reflection in the store window as they walked away. Tall, hot-looking, rich white man. Pretty, petite, young black girl. In a liberal city like Portland, interracial couples were no big deal. Even the age gap would only raise eyebrows in the more conservative parts of town. It gave her an exciting little thrill that Blondie-Pam might have jumped to the wrong conclusion about her.

  “Sorry about that,” he said as they got into the car.

  “About what?”

  “That woman, Pam. She’s been trying to get me to ask her out ever since Arlene and I split up. I’m afraid you got the brunt of her disappointment.”

  “No problem.” So he had noticed. A shiver went through her. The man was very good at playing things close to the chest. That must be useful in a court of law.

  He started the car and backed out.

  “How long have you been divorced?” It was none of her business, but for some reason now she wanted to know.

  “About a year.” He didn’t seem perturbed by her curiosity.

  “It must be hard if you have kids.”

  “Yeah, that’s the worst part. Usually I see my daughter Allie every other weekend, but she’s away at horse camp all this summer.”

  She thought she could hear an edge of pain in his voice. He must be a good father. She felt a little sorry for Jerrod Preston and his broken family. She wondered how Allie felt about not getting to be with her dad.

  She tried to imagine what it was going to be like to be away from her own dad for the next few weeks. They’d never been apart for more than one night. Now she probably wouldn’t see him again until her trial, and that was seven weeks away. A hard lump formed in her throat and she swallowed several times, forcing it down.

  This is no time to act like a child.

  Back at the house, Macy put her own items in a separate bag to go out to the apartment and then helped him put away the groceries he’d bought. He showed her where all the staples and cookware were kept. As they moved about the kitchen together, opening and closing cupboards and drawers, their paths suddenly collided in front of the refrigerator. The bags of lettuce she held made a dive for the floor and Jerrod grabbed for them at the same time she did. His fingers clamped on to her arm as their bodies crashed together, breasts to chest. They both went still.

  Mmm. His chest and abs were rock-hard. She caught his warm man smell, the tiniest hint of nice cologne, then she giggled and backed away.

  He wasn’t laughing. In fact his eyes were so intense she drew back further and covered her mouth with her hand. His jaw worked and his lips closed into a tight line. Was there something he wanted to say? Was it something she wanted to hear?

  “Macy, I—”

  “Excuse me,” she managed, her face feeling hot. “I’ll go put my own stuff away now.”

  Seizing her chance to escape, she grabbed her grocery bag and headed out the back door and through the garden. In the daylight, the yard was lush and welcoming, with sun rays filtering through the cool mist coming off the fountain. She hardly noticed this as she went up the stairs to her room. Her heart was pounding something fierce and that odd fluttery feeling had come back to her belly.

  Quickly she stashed her yogurt and cheese in the small fridge. Then she flopped down on the bed and tried to calm her racing pulse.

  As her breathing slowed she began to notice other things. Her nipples were tingly and hard. She had never worn a bra with the yellow sun dress before. Maybe she ought to. The fabric seemed to be rubbing against her flesh in an irritating way.

  But even as she tried to blame those sensations on the friction of her dress, Macy realized that her panties were damp too, and the place between her thighs felt warm and engorged.

  Her pussy.

  Sitting alone in the sun-filled room, she felt a hot flush move up her chest. She never used words like that, even in her own private thoughts. And certainly not about her own body. But for some reason today, that seemed like the right word to use.

  My pussy.

  God!

  Face it, girl. Jerrod Preston makes you hot.

  The thought was so clear, she could almost imagine her best friend Leticia sitting right here beside her, wagging her finger and grinning from ear to ear. Leticia knew her better than anybody.

  God, she’d give anything for her cellphone right about now. But it had disappeared at some point yesterday when the officers were going through her bag. They had said something about it being evidence.

  An hour later, after a cooling shower, Macy sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her favorite scented lotion onto her legs and arms. She had just about decided that she would put on fresh clothes and go back downstairs. She was being pretty silly, wasn’t she, hiding up here in her room? Jerrod Preston was the same age as her dad, handsome and rich. He certainly wouldn’t be interested in a plain girl her age.
He probably had a dozen sophisticated older women he was hooking up with. She had over reacted to the press of his hard body against hers, that’s all.

  Besides, he was her attorney. Weren’t there rules about clients and attorneys getting too friendly?

  As soon as she opened her door, she caught the wonderful smell of some kind of grilling meat. Looking down into the walled garden, she spotted Jerrod lounging in one of the Adirondack chairs with a long fork in one hand and a manila file folder in the other. Next to him, fragrant smoke rose from a black, domed barbeque.

  “That smells good,” she called out as she came down the stairs.

  “Pork chops with a spicy apricot sauce.” He grinned. Mirrored sunglasses masked his eyes.

  “Yummy.”

  She took a seat in the shade a few feet away. A pitcher of iced lemonade and an empty glass sat on a low table nearby. She poured a glass full, taking her time, trying to gauge if anything had changed between them since their collision in the kitchen. But he seemed friendly and unconcerned. If anything, he was distracted by the contents of the file. Finally he closed it and set it on the table.

  “I was just going over the police report again. While you were upstairs I had a call from my man Jeff. He’s in the process now of viewing copies of surveillance videos from adjacent businesses and obtaining eyewitness statements. It’s too soon to tell anything.”

  Her belly clenched into a hard knot. She’d almost managed to forget why she was here.

  “I didn’t realize there were any eyewitnesses.”

  “A couple of shoppers say they saw it all, plus the manager of the gift shop across from the jewelry store.”

  “But what was there to see? I was just walking past, doing my own thing. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  He was silent, studying her face.

  “I know,” he said finally. And she had a feeling that he did know. About the feeling of helpless fear that grabbed her whenever she imagined what might happen next. About how awful that night in jail had been. About how hard it was to be three hundred miles from home, no family or friends.