Page 54 of Shame the Devil

Dyma said, “I’m doing it because I want to. That’s why.” And Owen grinned some more.

Jennifer said, “Advil’s in my toilet kit, in my bathroom.”

Dyma disappeared into her bedroom, and Owen said, “Know what? I think I’ll wait out in the hall. Sorry, guys. Swimming, then dinner. I plan to take my time, so you know. Make the most of my date. At least two hours. Probably more.” And then he was gone.

Jennifer told Harlan after a second, “She actuallyisembarrassed. That’s why she said all that.”

“You know,” Harlan said, “I think I got that.”

“I keep forgetting that you’re perceptive,” she said. “Also, I’m pretty desperately embarrassed myself.”

He put an arm around her, and she leaned her head into his chest and sighed. Dyma came out again wearing a hotel robe and carrying a plastic bag, and said, “Not looking. Leaving.” Another wave of her hand. “Carry on. We’re gone. Swimming. Restaurant. Not having sex. Et cetera.”

“So,” Harlan said as the door closed behind her. He kissed Jennifer on the forehead, then pulled back and smiled into her eyes. “Remind me. Where were we?”

23

Not Letting Go

She triedto think of what to say. All she could come up with was the truth.

“I always have … too many thoughts,” she tried to explain, aware that her hair was messy, and she was wearing a not-closed-enough hotel robe and absolutely nothing else except some body lotion, and he was still completely dressed. Jeans. Belt. Plaid flannel shirt, the kind that felt so wonderfully soft under your fingertips, and probably another shirt under that. Boots, the Western kind. So many clothes. All she could really see of him was his face. That mouth.

Those hands.

And she was almostnaked.Like she was throwing herself at him. Which, of course, she had been.

“Go on,” he said, not making any moves. In fact, he sat back, which was odd. Surely, it was odd. “Too many thoughts. Which doesn’t exactly surprise me, by the way.”

“Yeah.” She shoved a hand through her hair, messing it up some more. She was still so tired, and possibly drunk enough on a glass and a half of wine, that every motion felt languid, her movements delayed by a half-second as her sluggish brain tried to process, and she didn’t have nearly enough control over her thoughts. “I’m a multitasker. It’s my life. My job, money, chores, Dyma, her school, my grandpa, my mom …” She could feel the tears welling up. Too many conflicting feelings, too close to the surface. “She was sick, and then she died, so there was just … a lot, you know?” Well, this was seductive. “But you can’t worry too much,” she went on anyway, “because there are all these things on your list. Groceries, and dinner, and laundry, and bills, and a job that’s more details, and how all those things affect each other, how you’re going to juggle them and not drop any balls. I go from one thing to the next, all day long, and it’s fine. But if I don’t have a list, if I don’t have a plan, I’m sort of … unmoored. I’m not sure what to do about Dyma here, or even whether I need to do anything. And I don’t know what to do about you. About this. How to get myself back into the … zone, or whatever. Or how to getyouthere.” She tried to laugh, although she still felt weepy. “Also, I realize that I’m the worst seducee ever.”

“Except that you weren’t getting seduced,” he said.

“I wasn’t?” She blinked at him. “It sure felt like it.”

He groaned. “Stop doing that thing with your eyes, or I’ll be a liar. I mean, we weren’t doing anything you didn’t want. I thought that was the point. Hey, I even wore a shirt with a collar to take you out to dinner. I’ll take you out to dinner right now, if that’s what you want. But then I come in here and you’re in this robe in front of the fire, telling me how relaxed you are, lying back on the couch, letting me feel how you’re naked under there, and it’s been all these days with you …”

“What thing with my eyes? I don’t do things with my eyes.”

“You bet you do. You blink them at me. Slowly. And they’re gold.” He spread out a big hand. “Anyway. We’re off track. We’re not talking about this, or about your skin or the way you look at me or the way you gasp a little when I kiss you or that body you’ve got, because I’m not seducing. You’re telling me about your list. About your life.”

She said, “Part of me wants to keep doing that. To keep my mouth moving. Mybrainmoving. Letting go feels so … so dangerous.” Once again, she could only come up with the truth. “I’m thinking, though … I’m here with you in this pretty wonderful place, and you’re pretty wonderful, too, so maybe I should stop thinking for once and go with this. See where it takes me. So … do you want to take off your boots? You’re so dressed, and I’m so … not. I could help you do it. Want me to?”

She was out there now. She couldn’t be more out there. It felt like a dangerous place to be. Surely, now, he’d just kiss her, save her from all this blundering around, and let her go back to feeling carried away.

It had felt so good to surrender.

Whatever Mark had said, she wasn’t actuallybadat sex. She knew how to give oral sex, for one thing, and she was good at it. She was a people pleaser all the way, which meant she was fine once she actually got there. She didn’t know how to get there from here, though. Not once she’d blurted out the details of her life. Including bills and chores and her deadmother.

She’d make the worst call girl in existence.

He said, “I do want you to. But I have to say something first.”

That wasn’t what she’d had in mind, unless it was, “That you light me up, because you’re so gorgeous.” Which she could tell it wasn’t.

What he actually said was, “You realize that I’m not a staying-around guy.”

“Uh … sorry?”