Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

 

 

Kelly lay quietly for a long time in the early morning light, peeking over the tops of the pillows, watching Lex sleep. He was naked. So was she. The modeling session had devolved into mutual masturbation, and yet the work the man had done was exquisite. Each stroke of charcoal against paper was like a caress, his passion shown through the sketches. In truth, she couldn’t wait to see what the work looked like in stone. She’d meant to go home, sleep in her own bed, regroup and come back after she’d had a chance to think and prepare herself, but then Cookie had fixed chicken enchiladas for dinner with her own special version of tres leches cake, and it was such a family affair that she had to stay. She loved being around Cookie and V and Dillon. She especially loved that they loved Lex and cared for him as though he really was family. And the next thing she knew, it was bedtime, and Lex was inviting her to his bed, which Greta had already made up with its pillow boundary down the middle—easily removed if the need arose.

Slowly, they’d undressed for each other, and they’d showered together. Lex’s shower was bigger than most car washes and with twin hand-held showerheads, they could actually bathe each other, and caress and stimulate each other with the massage setting. It was late when they finally made it to the bed, and not without several more hot masturbation sessions. “Show me how you like it,” he would say. “Tell me what you want. If I could touch you, I’d…” And the list was endlessly delicious. She was the writer. Word play was her specialty, but his haphephobia had made him a master of dirty talk and innuendo. She was sure at least once she came just from him telling her what he would do with his mouth if he could.

It was early morning when they’d finally drifted off. He’d not dreamed, but she had. Beautiful, explicit dreams of him doing exactly what he said he’d like to do to her, of him pulling her into his arms, of him sleeping pressed against her body. She woke with an ache and a longing that only settled and eased a bit as she peeked over the mound of pillows and saw him there sleeping peacefully, dark lashes resting against smooth cheeks, lips slightly parted. The blanket had fallen to his waist, giving her an exquisite view of his chest, which rose and fell with the deep, even breathing of sleep. His chest was hairless, nipples peaked dark pink in the morning chill. One arm was flung above his head, the other thrown over the mound of pillows dangerously close to her belly. She had to fight the urge to move closer until it actually touched her. God, how she wanted his touch, just a little touch, just the tips of his fingers.

As though he’d heard her thoughts, he opened his eyes, stretched and offered her a sleepy smile. Before she could ask if he slept well and how he felt, he left her speechless. “I’m going to touch you now, Kelly, only a little, because I just have to. I can’t help myself.”

“Okay.” She managed, her heart thundering so loudly in her ears that she could hardly hear. She lay dead still, holding her breath as he tossed the pillows out from between them and rolled onto his side, resting his head on one arm. Then with the very tip of his index finger, he skimmed her cheek. They both caught their breaths in a self-conscious whisper of a laugh, as he reeled in a strand of her hair, curled it around his knuckles and brought it to his lips.

“I never imagined it could be like this,” he said, watching her as though he’d never seen anything so wonderful and, God, she loved it when he looked at her that way. “I don’t know what I imagined. I guess I didn’t imagine anything really, because I thought…” A pained look crossed his face, a look that in its loneliness made her ache inside and, without thinking, she reached out and returned the gesture, just skimming his cheekbone with her fingertip. His pulse jumped, and his breath caught with a low moan.

“Kelly,” he whispered.

She could hear his heartbeat in her name.

“Your touch has to be the most wonderful sensation ever. I dream about your touch. It’s your touch that guides me through the nightmares. It’s your touch waiting for me when the nightmares end that keeps me going. I never imagined anything could terrify me so and yet at the same time feel so much like my own breath, like my own heartbeat, like I just came back to myself after a long absence.”

He frowned down at her. “Why are you crying? Kelly, please, don’t cry.” With the tip of his finger, he brushed away the tears and, even as his pulse raced and he gasped for breath, his face split into a broad smile that she returned in kind. He was making progress. He really was, and that she had played some part in that journey made her outrageously happy.

He sighed and stretched, then sat on the edge of the bed and found his shorts. “We should make an appearance at breakfast, I suppose.” He raked her with a mischievous glance. “People talk, you know. Especially around this house, and the fact that we’re sleeping together has given them all something to talk about.”

“Well, I for one, am glad to have provided entertainment for the locals,” she said. “It gives me purpose.” When she stood and moved past him toward the bathroom, he grabbed up his T-shirt and snapped her on the bottom with it. She flipped him off.

“Bring it on!” he called after her.

When the limo pulled around to the front to take her back to her house, she was surprised to find Lex sitting rather smugly in the back seat waiting for her.

“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked.

“I am working.” He pulled a sketchpad from the pocket on the side of the door. “You are my model, after all. Besides, it gives us a few more minutes together.”

She climbed in next to him. “You make it sound like I’m going to Outer Mongolia or something. It’s just Gresham, and only to pick up a few things and make sure wild heathens haven’t invaded and taken over, or Myrna’s kids, whichever comes first.”

“Then you’ll be back in time for bed?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said, feeling her stomach bottom with thoughts of just what that might mean.

The journey back to her place was taken up with him sketching and her enjoying the fact that his full attention was on her. Before they knew it, the driver was opening the door for her. “Wait!” Lex said. As she turned back to see what he wanted, he released his seatbelt, darted forward and kissed her. It was awkward and fleeting and punctuated with a moan that might have been pleasure, might have been panic, and her response was full of a good deal of both too.

“You’re insane,” she said, when he sat back, pale and wobbly in the seat, and redid his belt with unsteady hands. Then she did something equally insane. She leaned in and returned the kiss, careful to touch only his lips. Catching him completely by surprise and open-mouthed, she gave him a quick, but decisive flick of her tongue and pulled back, giving him his space. “I hope that doesn’t make you throw up, but I felt it was maybe worth the risk.”

“Oh God, yes.” He sounded like he’d just run a marathon.

“Good. Now go home and get back to work.”

“Kelly,” he called after her just before the driver shut the door. “Hurry back home.”

Back home! Christ, it actually felt that way, she thought, as she waved her goodbye and turned to find Myrna and the two wildlings plowing down the steps to meet her open-armed.

“I hope you’ve got time for coffee. I’ve got goodies from Jake’s Cakes waiting on the table,” Myrna said, lifting her off the ground in a bear hug. “I want to know details, woman, details and lots of them. I’ve got a bit of news of my own, too,” she said, “and no, I didn’t win the lottery and I’m not fu—er…I’m not doing Sam Heughan, though God knows I’m willing.”

“Doing what to Sam Heughan, Mom?” Lana asked. Lane and Lana bounced around Kelly like a couple of super balls on sugar and caffeine, and she realized just how much she’d missed her friend and her family.

“I’ve been trying to call you for the past two hours, hon. What’s going on?” Myrna said, taking her hand and guiding her back toward the house.

“Oh, shi—oot!” Kelly said, taking quick note of the two younger Kierans darting around her. “I forgot to charge my phone, what with one thing and another. Lex kindly provided a charger, but I just forgot.”

“I bet you did,” Myrna said, giving her an accusatory smile.

“I haven’t been needing it much lately, to be honest with you. It was kind of nice to lay it aside for a while.”

“You’ll probably have a gazillion reporters calling trying to get comments from you after Lex’s press conference,” Myrna said. “And I can’t even imagine what your inbox is going to look like.”

“I hadn’t even thought about that,” Kelly said. “Now bring on the donuts and coffee. I’m starving.”

 

* * * *

 

Gale Anne Spaulding sat parked across the street from Kelly Blake’s house. She had taken a chance that the woman would be there now that the press had left Mountain View. She would surely come back home at some point. As far as everyone knew, she didn’t actually live with Valentine, but then no one had really known anything until Valentine’s PA had dropped the bomb at Hendricks Gallery the other night. She made an executive decision not to break the news that the very drunk Jenny Fallon had shared just yet. She really wanted to confront Blake with her discoveries, and with the little tidbit of information, she’d been able to dig up on Blake’s mother, well, the confrontation should absolutely guarantee her national syndication. She was delighted to find that her gamble had paid off. Blake’s Subaru was in the drive and the curtains were open. Occasionally, she would see movement within. Her neighbor, Myrna Whatzit and her two rug rats were home as well. The rug rats did make her a bit nervous. Kids were always unpredictable. It was best to keep them out of the equation, if at all possible. Still, they were playing in the backyard and, because she was the only journalist who knew about Blake’s secret life, it should be a quick in and out before anyone was the wiser, and tonight’s show would be explosive to say the least.

She sipped at her Diet Coke and yawned. With the excitement of knowing what was about to happen, she hadn’t slept much, and she’d kept Madeline up half the night, but they’d found the dirt on Kelly Blake’s mother. Like mother like daughter, Gale Ann thought. She had been very careful to hide the fact that she’d used Madeline’s cousin to get the skinny on Blake. She’d simply told her that she’d found out nothing of interest about Andy Matthews, but she was pretty sure once the shit hit that fan, she’d have to find another researcher. With her clout, it would be easy enough to get Madeline fired if she caused problems. And really, it was her job to do research. It was work. Nothing more.

The door of Kelly Blake’s house opened, and the woman stopped right at the threshold. Gale Ann couldn’t help shrinking down in the seat just a little bit, fearing that Blake had seen her, but then she saw the woman snap her fingers as though she had forgotten something and turn back, shutting the door behind her. It was all right. Everything would be just fine. It wouldn’t be long now. For the dozenth time, Gale Ann tested her Dictaphone to make sure the batteries were fresh and it was ready to roll. This was her big moment. She didn’t want to miss it.

 

* * * *

 

Kelly dug through the detritus in the drawer of her bedside table until she found the unopened package of condoms. Hope springs eternal, she thought, and, in her mind, she was already trying to figure a way that she and Lex could have penetrative sex with minimal touch. They were both creative people. She reckoned with a little patience and imagination, they were ready to manage it now. She touched her lips and recalled the fleeting feel of his against hers, the surprised gasp, and the taste of him as she returned the kiss with just a touch of tongue. God, she wanted to give him so much more. She wanted to give him everything. He deserved it. They both did. Perhaps he had his own stash of condoms, because hope did spring eternal. If it didn’t, he would have never gotten in contact with her and they would have never met. She couldn’t imagine Lex Valentine not being a part of her life now, and she was anxious to get back to Mountain View, anxious to get back to him.

She had already stayed longer than she’d planned. But she and Myrna had needed a good catch-up. She was surprised and delighted to discover that Myrna was sleeping with Terry again. They weren’t just sleeping together, but they were actually dating, all romantic and sweet like teenagers. She was happy for them. They’d married too young, that was all, and they’d both had some growing up to do. Terry, bless him, he’d never been an absent father. His kids adored him. He provided and he spent quality time with them. It was no wonder they were both so smart and so well-adjusted.

She grabbed up her shoulder bag and pulled the suitcase to the door, where she gave one more look around to make sure everything was in order, everything shut down and turned off and that she wasn’t forgetting anything. Her mind was on the condoms in her bag and how she and Lex might put them to good use as she pulled the door to behind her, heard the lock click, and found herself face to face with Gale Ann Spaulding, who shoved a Dictaphone at her.

“Talk About Town has it on good authority, Ms. Blake, that you do a little moonlighting in addition to your writing career. Care to comment on that?”

Kelly’s heart fell to her stomach and, in spite of her best efforts at a poker face, she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. “No,” she said, and tried to push past, but Gale Ann stepped in front of her, blocking her way unless she wanted to wade through the planters of geraniums Andy had just deadheaded—Andy, who was now a dead man.

“You don’t care to comment on the fact that you moonlight as a sex worker, just like your mother.”

“A sex worker? Seriously?” That was the only thing she could manage as the wave of shock rolled over her. Just then Myrna and her brood stepped out to tell her goodbye. Lana was toying with her new iPhone, the one her mother had promised she could take photos of Auntie Kell with before she left. The kid was turning out to be a damn good photographer.

“Yes, a sex worker,” Gale Ann said, doing a little dance in front of Kelly that kept her from escaping. “Hooker, prostitute, whore, if you’d prefer another word. Does Alexander Valentine know? Or did he hire you for your services? Is it Pretty Woman with no nookie?”

“Mom, that nasty woman just called Auntie Kell a prostitute. She’s not,” Lane said. “Hey, you,” he called, heading across the lawn in spite of his mother’s efforts to stop him. “My aunt is not a prostitute and you’re trespassing. You leave her alone.” And the next thing Kelly knew, the kid had stepped right in the middle of the geraniums, all but vaulting them to stand at her side. “She’s not a prostitute. She helps people. You take that back.” Lane grabbed for the Dictaphone, but Spaulding pulled it away just in time.

Clearly taken aback by the arrival of the cavalry, the woman gave a quick glance around, but didn’t lose focus. “It’s all right, Lane,” Kelly said, taking the boy by the hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lana standing just out of the line of sight, iPhone raised, recording everything.

“Look, son,” Spaulding said, doing her level best and failing miserably at sounding parental. “There are things little boys your age don’t understand. This is adult talk. Go on back to your mother now.”

“I know what a prostitute is, lady, and I also know what slander is. I’m not stupid.” Lane folded his arms across his chest and held his ground.

“You may not be, boy, but Kelly Blake most definitely is a sex worker, and so was her mother before her.” Spaulding spoke into the Dictaphone, doing her best to keep control of the situation. On the neighboring lawns, people had gathered to watch, whispering among themselves. “Like mother like daughter, isn’t that true, Ms. Blake? Isn’t it true that you’ve followed in your mother’s footsteps and you’ve either deceived Alexander Valentine into giving you that rock you’re wearing there, or he’s paying for your services. Either way, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Like mother like daughter?”

This time, when she shoved the Dictaphone back into Kelly’s face, Kelly snapped, grabbed the device away and found herself in a scary calm place as she spoke decisively and clearly. “No, Ms. Spaulding. Sadly I’m not like my mother. I wish that I were. With all of my heart I wish I could live up to her example. Yes, it’s true, my mother worked as a prostitute for six months when I was a little girl. She did it to put food on the table after my father overdrew the checking account, took the car and ran off with another woman. We lost the house. We lost everything. She left me with my grandmother at nights while she worked. I only know this because she told me later.” When the fish-gasping Gale Ann Spaulding tried to get her Dictaphone back, Lane stepped in front of her. “But if you’d done your research instead of looking for what crap you could dig up, you would have discovered that my mother went on to put herself through medical school. She worked in thoracic surgery in a hospital in one of the poorer parts of New York City until she joined Doctors without Borders five years ago. Two years ago, Ms. Spaulding, Elizabeth Katherine Blake was killed in a border skirmish in Afghanistan. So yes, my mother worked as a prostitute. My friend there would have done the same if her children were at risk.” She nodded to Myrna, who laid a hand on Lana’s shoulders and gave an enthusiastic nod. All the while, the girl busily recorded every word. “I’ll bet you any of my neighbors here would have done the same for their children. But you’re right, I suppose technically you could say that I’m a sex worker. I’m a tutor. I talk people through sexual issues, I listen, I advise, I encourage. That’s what I do when I’m not writing. If I was secretive about it, well, there are a lot of people who depend upon my discretion. Clearly no concern of yours unless it gets you the attention you crave. As for Alexander Valentine, he knows full well what I do. Now, does that give you enough dirt for your radio show? Can I go now?” She shoved the Dictaphone back at the gaping Spaulding, grabbed her bag and moved like a sleepwalker to her car, wanting desperately to make a run for it, but needing to maintain control. The crowd that had gathered in the street and in her driveway parted as she backed the car out and drove away. But instead of turning toward Lex and Mountain View, she left a message for Myrna and headed out Highway 26 toward Mount Hood. She needed some time. She needed to think, and she couldn’t bear the thought of facing Lex with all this shit storm until she’d had time to sort it out.