Part 2 (2/2)
Marilyn smiled grimly. ”Let's say I just wanted to make sure my money was backing a guy who knows his stuff and that he could keep writing a new book every couple of years or so. Even if he can't cook,” she grumbled. ”I'd like to see what he has in the works for his next project after everybody finds out that he's a fraud.”
”Well, he looks hunky-and I for one wouldn't kick him out of my sleeping bag!”
Colette said, putting the snacks they'd nearly devoured back into her purse.
Marilyn sn.i.g.g.e.red. ”With looks like that? He's probably a mama's boy and a cream puff. I'll bet his hands have never been dirty. He probably cooks wearing gloves!”
Marilyn stopped short. ”Oh. Sorry. I keep forgetting-he doesn't cook!” She lowered her jaw, her face a mock expression of horror as she got into the spirit of things. ”Hang up on me, will he? Now I can't wait to spring this on him.”
The two women grabbed their carry-on luggage from the overhead rack and jostled their way through the aisle of the plane, followed closely by Chuck, who kept singing under his breath ”Sixty ways to kill your brother” to the tune of Paul Simon's ”Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover”.
”Isn't there something we can do other than spring this on Jack?” Chuck asked once they'd claimed their luggage.
”I don't see how.” Colette gave him a rueful smile.
Marilyn palmed the keys to the rental she'd just signed for and shook her head.
”After the way he's deceived us?”
”But you never asked him if he could cook, did you?” Chuck leaned forward to meet her gaze fully.
Marilyn opened her mouth to respond, but words deserted her. He had a point, d.a.m.n it. But still...
”I will give it some thought on the drive there. That satisfy you?”
”Not really. I just don't think you should judge him by what I told you. You obviously don't know Jack. I'm sure he didn't mean to deceive you or cause you any trouble.”
”Then how would you define his actions?” Marilyn gave a not-so-gentle tug on her luggage, ignoring the restaurant signs and various scents of foods that beckoned. She was tired, hungry and more angry with herself than she was with her client. Didn't lessen the burden of guilt she felt for having set Jackson up with the cooking contest he couldn't possibly enter or win, and it certainly didn't brush aside her fears that she'd lose her job.
No matter how indignant she might feel, they were both screwed thanks to her.
Chapter Four.
River Rat Rum b.a.l.l.s.
Ingredients:.
2 tablespoons cocoa.
Dash of cinnamon 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, divided 1/4 cup rum 2 tablespoons light corn syrup.
2 1/2 cups crushed vanilla wafers.
1 cup pecans, crushed.
Sift cocoa, cinnamon and one cup of the powdered sugar together. Stir in the rum that has been
combined with the corn syrup. Add wafer crumbs and pecans and mix well.
Roll into b.a.l.l.s by the teaspoonful, and dredge in the remaining 1/2 cup powdered sugar. ”I love it when you talk like that!” The blonde beneath Jack giggled. ”When I talk like what, chere?” Jack asked, giving her one last kiss before rolling off the bed to b.u.t.ton his s.h.i.+rt.
He looked at his watch. 12:30. Chuck would be there any minute.
”When you talk like that actor in The Big Easy... You know. Dennis Quaid. That's who you remind me of-well, you look more like that hunky guy who played Superman on TV, but you sound like Dennis. You've got the same expressions too...the dimples and the eyebrows and the evil grin.”
”Oh. Yeah.” Jack forced a smile and offered her his hand, hoping she'd take the hint that he was anxious for her to leave. After all, it wasn't like he'd just f.u.c.ked her. All they' d done was make out a bit before she had to rejoin her friends in their cabin and pack to go home.
He'd caught her staring at him the night before when he'd been in the camp lounge, Pelican Point. She'd been with a group of girlfriends while he tended bar, and she had flirted outrageously with him before he finally agreed to walk them home. One thing had led to another, and before he knew it, she'd invited herself to his cabin. She'd wanted to go directly there, but Jack had told her he had to go back to the bar and clean up late. So she'd shown up that morning instead, still uninvited, even though she probably couldn't have helped but see that Jack thought she was attractive.
”If I was the suspicious type, I'd think you had another girl coming over here.” She puckered her lips into a pout as she took his hand, tugging on it, trying to pull him back onto the bed.
”Not at all. Just an old friend from the Navy. He should be here any minute, and we' ve got a lot to catch up on-that's all,” he told her, a frown creasing his brow as he became annoyed with her ploy to stall her departure. Times like this made him thankful he was single, because every gorgeous lady with a great body seemed to be short-changed intellectually.
”Mind if I borrow one of your s.h.i.+rts?” she asked, placing a forefinger on her bottom lip and looking up at him with mock innocence. ”I think I've stained mine with cherry juice.”
Just then, he heard a knock at the door, and he quickly forgot all about the girl he'd been kissing.
”What? Sure,” he said absentmindedly, already walking toward the door and thinking that he'd have given her the one off his back if it'd move her out of there any faster.
Jack was all ready to give Chuck a bear hug when he realized that his friend wasn't staring back at him. Instead, there was a woman, and she was anything but the usual camper in cotton or denim.
She was tall, statuesque, regal and dressed in a cream-colored Chanel suit and high heels that made her already long legs look even longer. Jack licked his lips and longed to thrust his c.o.c.k into what he imagined was a luscious vortex beneath her sa.s.sy skirt. She wore very little makeup to highlight her already peaches-and-cream skin, with diamond studs in her earlobes peeking through a curtain of satiny brown hair and a clearly disapproving look of surprise on her face as she stared past him into his cabin.
When he turned, he saw that the blonde was back on the bed. Her bare legs were crossed, and she made a show of b.u.t.toning one of his s.h.i.+rts. It was long enough to cover her legs, but it made her look as if she hadn't any panties, much less the shorts.
Before Jack could muster an excuse, Chuck waved from behind the brunette and her pet.i.te companion.
”Hey, buddy!” Chuck called. ”Looks like we caught you at a bad time.”
”What? No! She... uh... was just leaving actually.” Jack put his hands in his hip pockets and stepped aside so that the others could enter his cabin. He looked over his shoulder and gave the blonde an open-eyed glare that clearly asked, C'mon, what's your problem?
At this point, Jack didn't care if he p.i.s.sed her off or not. He wasn't about to let her sit there acting as if they'd done something deliciously naughty when all they'd done was kiss a few times.
The woman at the door bit her lips. Seemed to Jack that it was to keep from smiling when the blonde cut him a haughty look before slipping on her sandals and sashaying toward them with a fixed smile on her face.
”Thank you for breakfast in bed, Jackie!” she cooed, kissing her fingertips and touching his cheek with them as she left.
Jack reddened as Chuck mouthed, Jackie? over the women's heads, but he covered his embarra.s.sment by offering his guests a cup of coffee.
”Nothing like sitting on the front deck and listening to the water ripple over the rocks with a good cup of coffee,” he said with a broad smile that revealed straight, even, white teeth.
”You sure we're not interrupting something... Jackie, was it?” This one seemed determined not to grant him so much as an inch of self-preservation.
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