Once something is a passion, the motivation is there.
-Michael Schumacher
Karma passed a sign that said the Chicago exit she needed to take was in two miles. She had white-knuckled the steering wheel like the reins on a bucking bronco for the past thirty minutes. Chicago area traffic was a major suckfest. Cars whizzed by, even passing on the shoulders, which she had never seen done before, and her nerves were almost shot. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. What had gotten into her?
Mark. That’s what.
If he hadn’t invited her to Chicago, she never would have gotten the half-cocked idea of pulling up a Yahoo! map to see how to get to his apartment building. And then she wouldn’t have contrived the idea to surprise him, which had become an idea to pack an overnight bag, which had led to her printing off a series of maps and plugging his address into her car’s GPS, which had ended with her heading north on I-65, Chicago-bound.
Somehow—miraculously without getting in a wreck or killed—around two thirty in the afternoon, she arrived at his apartment building in one piece. Flustered, yes. Relieved to park her car and shut off the engine in the parking garage below his building, absolutely.
Taking a reassuring breath that she had made it through the wicked world of Chicago’s crowded streets, she got out, grabbed her overnight bag from the backseat, and checked the slip of paper she had written his address on.
Apartment number 902.
Ninth floor.
Now to find her way to the lobby.
* * *
Mark had the balcony door open to let the breeze in while he and Rob finished straightening his apartment. The new door had been installed that morning, along with an extra deadbolt. He was feeling better than he had last night, but then he’d slept eight hours. He rarely got that much sleep. Apparently, he had needed the rest.
The phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Strong?” It was building security. “You have a guest, a—”
“Just send them up.” It was probably another police officer. The chief of police had alerted him that officers might stop back by.
“Yes, sir.”
Mark disconnected and got back to work.
“Where do these go?” Rob held up a stack of books.
Mark pointed down the hall. “In my office.”
As Rob disappeared, Mark’s phone chimed from the kitchen counter. He snagged it and smiled when he saw a text from Karma. Hey you. Are you busy?
He typed out a response. Not really. Just getting my apartment back in order. What are you up to?
He set the phone down and grabbed a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge. One for him and one for Rob.
His phone chimed again. Nothing much. Just walking down the hall.
His brow furrowed. Walking down the hall? What an odd thing to say. Before he could type out a response, his phone dinged again. Who’s that at your door?
He looked up. He hadn’t heard a knock. Wait a minute. What was going on? He typed out a reply. At my door?
Yes. At your door. I could swear I heard a knock.
What had she done? Had she sent him flowers? A gift? Balloons? A maid to help him clean? Maybe his visitor wasn’t CPD after all.
He set down his phone and went to the new door, unlocked the dual deadbolts, and pulled the heavy thing open…and found Karma, her hair pulled into a ponytail, phone in her hand and a smile on her face, standing in the hall.
“Could you use a hand in there?” she said, slipping her phone inside her purse.
He stepped out, his heart melting, and wrapped one arm around her waist. “No. But I could use two.” He pulled her inside, shut the door, and drew her into a hug. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
Rob came back into the living room. “Hey, who’s this?”
Mark stepped aside with his arm still around Karma’s waist. “Rob, this is Karma. Karma, meet my best friend, Rob.”
She stepped forward and extended her right hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
Rob eyed Mark for a second then took Karma’s hand. “My pleasure. Mark’s talked a lot about you.”
“He has?” She looked at him. Mark could only smile back, dumbfounded that she had come to Chicago.
“Oh yeah,” Rob said. “All good, of course.”
“I’m glad.” Her cheeks pinked, and she looked around at the remaining mess. “It doesn’t look that bad.” She glanced at Mark. “The way you talked last night, I expected a lot worse.”
With Rob’s help, Mark had managed to get almost everything back where it belonged. He only had a few more stacks of files and books to go through.
Rob smiled knowingly at Mark. “You didn’t tell me you called Karma last night,” he said a little too dramatically.
Mark ignored the jab. “We’ve been cleaning all day,” he said to Karma. “It’s a lot better than it was.”
“Can I help?”
Her just being there helped, but he didn’t want to say that in front of Rob. “Sure.”
Rob checked his watch. “I actually have to cut out.”
“What? You’ve got another hot date?”
“Something like that.” Rob grinned. “But it’s been nice finally meeting you, Karma.”
“Same here,” she said.
Rob headed for the door. “Keep this guy out of trouble while you’re here, okay?”
“I’ll try, but he can be a handful.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Rob waved and left.
As soon as the door closed, Mark wrapped his arms around Karma and kissed the top of her head. “Thank you for coming.”
She buried her face against his chest, then pulled away and glanced around. “Where can I start?”
He pointed to his lips. “How about right here?”
She smiled. “I think I can manage that.” She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. She smelled like vanilla and tasted like peppermint.
And just like that, his weekend went from elephant dung to sweet-smelling roses. Vanilla-and-peppermint-scented roses at that.
After cleaning for another hour, Mark plopped down on the couch. “Okay, that’s it. No more work today.”
Karma smiled then spied his gym bag and basketball in the hall. She picked the ball up and flipped it around in her hands. “How about you show me your moves?” She tossed him the ball.
“What? Now?”
“Sure.” She sat next to him and took the ball. “I used to play, remember. I think I told you that.”
“You want to play with me?” Why did that sound so dirty?
“Baby, I want to play with you so bad.” Her flirtatious gaze sent a lick of heat between his legs.
He took back the ball. “Are we talking about basketball or something else?”
Her left brow arched. “Both?”
He regarded her for a moment through narrowed eyes then nodded. “Okay, you’re on.”
A few minutes later, they were in his car heading to the gym.
“You look good in my sweatshirt,” he said. She hadn’t brought a jacket, and in Chicago, even in the summer, the wind off Lake Michigan could make for chilly days and nights. And despite it being Fourth of July weekend, today was unseasonably cool.
“I feel good in your sweatshirt,” she said.
They arrived at the courts and only had to wait a couple of minutes for one to free up. After a few minutes of warm-up shots, he passed her the ball. “Okay, show me what you’ve got, little lady.”
“It’s been a while since I played. Don’t expect much.” She dribbled the ball.
“Isn’t it like riding a bike? You never forget how?”
“I think you’re thinking of something else.” She watched the ball as if getting familiar with the feel of it in her hands again.
“Like what?”
She smirked. “Like riding a bike.” She stepped up and shot.
The ball bounced off the front of the rim. He leaped for the rebound, and then went in for an easy layup.
“Two-zip.” He passed her the ball again.
“Oh, so we’re keeping score now?”
“Of course.”
She began dribbling, faked to the left, and cut around to the right, pulling up for a short jump shot. The ball bounced off the backboard, rolled around the rim, and then out.
“Damn!” She huffed and ran for the rebound, but Mark beat her to it.
As he dribbled away from her, she rolled her eyes. “You do know you have, like, an entire foot on me, right?”
“You’re exaggerating.” He bounced the ball back and forth, from left to right. “I can’t be more than six inches taller than you are.”
She jumped forward and tried to steal the ball. He took the opportunity to dribble around her and made a break for the net. By now, they were both breathing harder, and small beads of perspiration were already breaking out over his forehead.
Karma unzipped his sweatshirt and crawled her way out of the sleeves. “Yeah, six inches taller,” she said defiantly. Her nipples peaked under her T-shirt against the cool breeze. “But with the wingspan of a gorilla.” She tossed the sweatshirt to the bench as if she was getting serious.
“A gorilla?” He laughed. “Did you just call me a gorilla?”
She smacked the ball out of his hands and cast him an over-the-shoulder glare as she walked away. “I sure did. You gonna do something about it, big guy?”
Mark tugged at his sweatpants. Perspiration dripped down his thighs. “Time-out.” He pulled off his sweats so that he was only in his T-shirt and nylon shorts.
“Are you done getting undressed?” she said, getting snarky. “Or are we gonna play some ball.”
“Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He clapped his hands once to show he was ready.
She dribbled, and the hint of a smile played over her lips. She was obviously enjoying this as much as he was. He loved that she wasn’t intimidated by all the men on the other courts, or that he was obviously more practiced than she was. Karma gave it all she had. He liked that competitive fire in her belly. Few women had it. At least that he’d seen.
She bulldozed toward him, rushing the net.
He planted his feet and slid in to block her, but she barreled right through him, sending the ball up. It came down through the net.
“Foul!” he said. “Charging!”
“Charging my ass,” she said, snagging the ball on the bounce. “You stepped in front of me.”
He took the ball. “Oh, I see. That’s how you’re gonna play, huh?”
“It was a legal move. Quit crying about it like a little girl.”
He laughed. “Little girl?”
“If the shoe fits.”
He got up in her personal space, grinning like he had the best hand in a game of poker. “You are in so much trouble.”
“Promises, promises.” She stole the ball out of his hands, turned and dribbled for the goal, making an easy layup.
She caught the ball and passed it to him. “Your ball.”
He passed it back. “No. I’ll let you take it out again.” This was too much fun.
With a coy smile, she traded spots with him. “If you insist.” She started dribbling, creeping up on him. Just as she was about to make her move, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him.
She yelped as he picked her up, laughing. “Foul!” She pretended to blow a whistle, and then they both broke into laughter before he gave her a breathless kiss.
A quiet moan broke in her throat, and he pulled back.
“I think that was a technical.” Her face flushed and lit up like a kid who had just run down the stairs at breakneck speed on Christmas morning.
“Am I ejected?” He let his hand drop to the upper curve of her rump, where he gave her a little finger pat.
“Nah. I like the way you foul.” She pulled away and darted after the ball.
They played for another thirty minutes, which really ended up being more like thirty minutes of competitive foreplay than basketball, then they packed it in. On the way home, they stopped at a corner store for a few things then picked up sandwiches at Mark’s favorite deli.
“That was more fun than I’ve had in a long time,” she said as they settled on his balcony with their sandwiches.
“Same here.” He felt invigorated and alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years. It was almost as if he were ten years younger. But that was the Karma Effect. This was what she did to him, and he couldn’t deny he loved how he felt when they were together.
They ate in comfortable silence, with only the breeze off the lake and the sound of distant traffic to lull them into an easy ambience.
After she put away her last bite, he invited her onto the lounge chair with him. With the sun behind his apartment building, casting them in shadow, it got chilly fast, and Karma readily snuggled into his embrace.
He absently linked his fingers between hers and lay back, closed his eyes, and enjoyed her presence. He was usually so tense, even when he didn’t appear to be. There was always something to do, a job to work on, a date to plan, memories to avoid. His mind was always going, going, going. It never stopped. Until now.
For the first time since he could remember, he didn’t think about anything at all. Not his assignment at Solar, not about Carol, and not about how his apartment had been a ransacked disaster twenty-four hours ago. His mind was free and clear, completely in the moment and at peace. A glassy, tranquil pond covered with early morning mist in the heart of summer. And it was because of the woman lying beside him, tucked into the crook of his arm.
“This is nice,” she said softly, as if she knew he relished the serenity she gave him and didn’t want to disturb it.
“Mm-hm.” Mark opened his eyes and gently rocked her against his side as he kissed the top of her head. “Are you getting cold?”
“Just a little.”
“Come on,” he said, sitting up with her. “Let’s go in, get cleaned up, and turn off the phones. He stood and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I want to be with you and only you tonight.”
“Me, too.”
He followed her inside and closed the sliding glass door, ready to put yesterday and all the bad memories behind him.