Chapter Eighteen

Magnolia Maplewood turned the key in the lock and shoved the condo door open. Bethany and Adam Deluca filed quietly past her, each rolling a suitcase and carry-on behind them. Bethany’s a leopard pattern in pink. Adam’s desert camo. Before the accident, Annette Deluca had hit every luggage store in LA looking for a set of US Navy-themed baggage for her ten-year-old son, and finally Adam agreed military camo would be a suitable substitute.

“There are three bedrooms.” Magnolia pushed her bags to one side, dropped her keys on the kitchen counter, and crossed the expansive living room, pausing to glance out the triple doors to the ocean beyond. No doubt tomorrow in daylight, the view would be impressive. Opening the doorway to one side of the dining area, she stepped into a large room painted in shades of light pastels with seashell patterns on the bedspread and curtains.

In silence, Adam and Bethany looked around then followed her to the next room. Similar in size to the previous room, the decor kept to a sandy earth-toned pattern with driftwood pieces placed about. A bowl, a lamp, a basket with magazines in the corner. Simple, understated, yet a peaceful compliment to the crashing waves outside.

Making her way across the living area once again, Magnolia opened the door to the third bedroom. Most likely the master. Only slightly larger than the other two rooms, this one was done in a tropical theme of palm trees. Adam and Bethany stood in the doorway, neither saying a word.

Magnolia would swim naked with a great white to bring back Tom Deluca. Anything to see these two tussling with her for the master. Instead, both turned, Bethany leading the way, Adam on her tail.

“I guess I’ll take the palm tree room,” Bethany finally said, detouring to retrieve her suitcases. “Adam can have the other room. Looks more manly.”

She flashed her brother a wan smile, but he offered only a shrug in return.

“Let’s get the bags unpacked.” Wishing once again that things could be different, she rubbed her hands together and forged ahead with her first effort at starting their trip on a happier note. “I’ve been told the kitchen is stocked. What do you say as soon as we’re settled in I make some of my famous garlic parmesan popcorn and we find a good movie on TV? Maybe something with Elvis and hula dancers.”

“That is so lame.” Bethany rolled her eyes, but Magnolia was delighted to see the hint of a teenage twinkle in the fifteen-year-old’s gesture. It certainly beat the five hours on the plane of the very vocal teen insisting she should be at the hospital with her mother. Magnolie wasn’t totally sure she didn’t agree with the girl. But it wasn’t her decision to make.

Adam shrugged at his sister’s choice and headed for what had been designated the manly room.

Under the pretext of changing out of her travel clothes, Magnolia closed her bedroom door and pulled out her phone. Three texts from Tom Deluca’s lawyer. The most recent forty-five minutes ago. Still no contact with Everrett. First thing in the morning, they were going snorkeling. She needed to get with Billy Everrett. Taking out the paper she’d carefully tucked into her wallet, she tapped the numbers on her keypad.

“Hello,” a deep male voice answered.

“Oh, Mr. Everrett.” The quiet hesitation lasted longer than Magnolia had expected. “I’m Magnolia Maplewood, household manager for the Deluca family.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m calling on an important matter regarding The Delucas.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Magnolia momentarily pulled the phone away and glanced at the screen as though it were the phone’s fault the man on the other end seemed limited to a vocabulary of two words. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“Well, I’m on the road. Another time would be better.”

“Yes, well, what I have to say should be discussed in person anyway. But it is of an urgent matter. Will you be on the boat tomorrow morning?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I see. In that case, when might I be able to meet with you in private?”

Billy kept his eyes on the curving yellow line dividing the road ahead and wished he had ignored the call. “I will be in the shop most of the day.” Especially after having played hooky today.

“Then you have time tomorrow?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He hadn’t offered so many polite single affirmative responses in one conversation since working with the female captain from the Navy Safety Center investigating the explosion that cost Joe his life and him his leg.

“Thank you, Mr. Everrett. Until tomorrow.” “Tomorrow, ma’am.”

Billy let the phone fall into the cup holder in the console.

“If I didn’t know better…” Angela failed to hide her smile. “…I’d say you ticked off your mother.”

That made Billy smile. Growing up, when his mother caught him breaking the rules, he hadn’t dared let a single word other than yes, ma’am escape his lips, or his ass would have been proverbial grass. Angela had hit the nail on the head with that one.

“That was the Deluca’s household manager,” he explained.

“Household manager?”

One shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. At this point that was more than what he’d known about Magnolia Maplewood yesterday. “Apparently that’s who the children are traveling with.”

“Did she say what she wanted?”

“To speak with me in person.”

“Good. She may be able to shed some light on this whole situation.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Pondering the conversation, he expressed his thoughts out loud. “She’s a household manager. Whatever that means.”

“It means she pays the bills, organizes the household help, handles the maintenance or the hiring of those who do the maintenance, and most importantly for the moment, has custody of two children and most likely has enough authority to know what the heck is going on.”

“Unless—” He cast a quick sideways glance in her direction. “She’s a kidnapper.”

“Kidnapper?” Angela sat up straighter. “You don’t really think?”

“No, I don’t really think. But it is something to consider.”

“I suppose.” Leaning back in her seat, she lifted her chin, and he could almost see her mind sliding back and forth, drawing conclusions. “If she does have legal permission to travel with the kids, why do you think she wants to see you?”

That was what he wanted to know. 

* * *

“That was just cruel.” Angela giggled. “Seriously cruel.”

“You have no idea.” Billy turned the corner onto Angela’s street. “Bright, neon pink. The guys on the baseball team refused to let me forget it.”

“It would never have occurred to me to paint any of my brother’s toenails while they were napping.” Angela laughed a little harder as they pulled into the driveway. “Would you like to come in for a bit? I have some pie left.”

“The perfect end for a great day. Thanks.”

Much to his surprise, despite his momentary lapse at the site of the burning crater, the evening had followed the same comfortable mood they’d enjoyed previously. She’d continued to tease and poke fun with him, and the somber mood that had so quickly descended on him faded away with equal speed.

The drive home had been filled with stories of growing up on the island versus Wyoming. But none had made Angela laugh as hard as the last one about his toenails. The mortification at finding himself in the boys’ locker room with pink toenails still bristled his spine. The silly stories had been necessary to keep his mind from wandering back to the crazy idea of a life for a life.

Inside, Angela set her keys on the hall table and walked straight to the kitchen. Billy followed a step behind and once again wondered. Could he?

Intent on his own musings, he didn’t notice Angela stop short and turn to ask a question. He had to grab her arms to stop her from falling over on impact. “Oh, sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault.” Standing close enough for him to feel her breath on his chest, she looked up at him. “I…uh, remembered I forgot my…uh, purse in your…car.”

“Right. Sorry.” He meant to let go, to step back, but instead he’d gotten lost in the depths of deep brown eyes that had turned dark as ebony. Leaning forward, he tilted his head and his lips touched hers. A gentle caress. Not hungry, not desperate, not searing. But when her arms wound around his neck, the want, the need, the desire hit him with the force of a speeding Humvee.

Sensations he’d forgotten existed hummed to every nerve ending. Her lips, soft and tender, touched, teased, and tempted. His arms wound around her waist and pulled her more tightly against him. Fingers from her one hand grazed his neck while her other hand ran along his back and slid into the edge of his slacks. All the blood in his veins surged south. This time he was most definitely kissing her back. But if he didn’t slow things down, and fast, they’d be making babies on her kitchen floor. And with her cool fingers against his hot skin, taking her here and now in the front hall was looking better and better.

Her hip swayed against him, his jeans grew tighter, and warning sirens went off in his head. This was all wrong. There would be fumbling and awkwardness and shock if he let things progress. But damn how he wanted. He hadn’t wanted like this since before… Damn.

“Angela.” Easing away, he kissed the edge of her mouth, her cheek, then heaved in a lungful of air. “I’m sorry.”

Her forehead against his chest, he felt her suck in an equally staggering breath. “I’m only sorry you stopped.”

Not sure of the safest place to put his hands while she remained flattened against him, he settled for her waist and then used every strand of self-control he had to keep them still.

“Why didn’t you do that last time?” she mumbled into his shirt.

“Last time?”

“The night you brought me home from Kara’s. I kissed you, and you didn’t kiss me back. You pushed me away.”

“I told you. You’d been drinking. Weren’t yourself.”

Backing up until she could easily look up at him, she paused a moment to study him. “I know, but I thought that was just an excuse. That you didn’t want me.”

“Despite the reputation sailors have, I knew too well that night it was the margaritas talking. Not you.”

A soft smile tipped her lips. “You mean the margaritas kissing.”

“Whatever.”

“So, you really were being noble?” Her hands fell to his waist so they looked like a couple of awkward teens at their first dance.

“You surprised me.” Shocked the hell out of him was more like it.

“Let me see if I have the facts straight. You do like kissing me?”

Too much. He closed his eyes and nodded.

“So if I were to do it again.” She inched forward into his personal space.

“I don’t think we should.”

Her arms wound their way around his neck again. “Why not?”

He took a step back. “Let’s talk.”