Still fighting her nerves, she continued to play the game, attempting to guess the contents of the gift bag. It would be markedly easier if Michael’s intense blue gaze wasn’t boring into the side of her head while the seconds ticked by on the kitchen clock. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…each resounded in her head like the stomps of an elephant, smashing the fragile hold she retained on her sanity. Only the unwavering gentle kindness she found within the calm blue depths of Paul’s eyes kept her fingers steady as she held it in her hands. One would think playing a guessing game would be easy when the contents was known, but now that she knew what the bag contained there was little else she could think of. All she had to do was make a guess – any guess – and she could get on with this yet nothing came to her mind except for the diamond ring she was sure was inside.
Seriously, imagine being told you can think of doing anything you like except for having sex on the beach. What’s the one thing you can’t stop thinking about now?
The only problem with that scenario was that she couldn’t guess sex on the beach because Paul most likely didn’t get her a cocktail and it would only serve to set Nika off on another tangent about her varied exploits. Come to think of it, a cocktail might help her take her mind off the diamond ring so she could play the stupid game.
Stalling, Sara held the bag up to her ear and shook it with care. The fact that the bag was heavier than a ring box would be mattered little. Everyone in their group was a pro at the birthday game. She’d once seen Nika fill a box halfway with sand just to throw off Lincoln on his birthday. Then again, she herself was known to buy gifts that could be broken into pieces just so she could wrap the pieces individually to trick someone.
She bit her lip. “Nothing seems to be rattling around in there.”
“Excellent,” Michael began. “So Paul’s not given you a baby’s rattle for your birthday then.”
Nika smacked him in the shoulder. “That is so inappropriate, jerk.”
“Especially given the fact they haven’t…”
“Shut it, Scofield.”
Paul stroked her face to regain her attention. “There’s no way you will ever get this one right so any guess will do.”
Her throat was like sandpaper. “I don’t know.”
“Then guess.” Paul leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers as though they were alone, reigniting the flames of desire within her. “Make your guess and you can find out what’s inside.”
She already had a pretty good idea. Oh, he meant in the bag. “It’s…uh…” She reached for her water glass, but her fingers skirted off the side, knocking it over.
Lincoln reached for the glass, succeeding only in getting in Veronica’s way as she reached to sop up the water with her napkin, which was somehow smacked out of her hand, onto the votive candle in the middle of the table. It erupted in flames. “Why would you do that, Lincoln?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose, Roni.” Lincoln reached for the closest thing to his hand, Veronica’s water glass, and tossed it on the flames to extinguish it. Instead, the flames leapt to life. He gave her a horrified look while everyone jumped back from the table. “I thought you were drinking water.” He sniffed the glass in his hand and recoiled. “For God’s sake! What is this? 200 proof?”
Veronica looked around at everyone defensively. “What? I needed something to take the edge off when the whole table was busy discussing how Paul is in bed.”
Paul’s eyelids peeled back. “Excuse me.” He turned on her. “What did you just say?”
“Don’t get defensive. You’re getting rave reviews from Wonder Shlut over here. I just needed something to help me turn the volume down in case she started recounting all her stories about how she’s slept with everyone at the table except for me and Shara.”
Jane waved her arms in front of her chest like a wild woman. “Hello? I just met Wonder Slut so I haven’t slept with her either.”
“I feel like some kind of superhero.” Nika thrust her fist into the air over her head and started hopping up and down on one foot. “Wonder Slut to the rescue! Never fear, Wonder Slut is here!”
“Why am I getting rave reviews in bed from Nika?”
Nika winked at him. “Because you’re some kind of superhero, too. We’ll call you Studman. Wanna hear your theme song?”
“What is wrong with all you people? The kitchen table is on fire!” She thrust the bag into Paul’s hands. “I’m going to see if there’s a fire extinguisher in the utility room. I know there’s another one on the second floor.” The wail of the smoke alarm pierced the already chaotic scene. “Someone deal with that!”
Without waiting for a response, she fled into the confined space of the laundry room. She knew the extinguisher wouldn’t be there, but it allowed her a moment to think before she continued out to the garage that was used only for storage since this wasn’t a primary home for any member of the family. There might be an extinguisher out amidst the junk. Jimmy Hoffa’s body might also be out there. The responsible thing to do would have been going up to the second floor hall closet where she knew one was. She needed to be in action.
Sara leaned heavily against the washing machine, letting her head drop as though her neck muscles were no more. This house couldn’t be allowed to burn to the ground. Every stick of furniture was there because of her mother. Every family picture or priceless piece of artwork was where it was because Celeste Tancredi placed it there with her own hands. She let her eyes stray unbidden to her hands, hands that were so much like her mothers, hands that should be putting out that fire the way her mother had calmed many an argument.
Hollow filled her heart when she realized how disappointed her mother would be in her if she could see her today. The most vital advice Celeste ever gave her daughter about matters of the heart was to give it carefully yet when she did, give it absolutely. Sara could say she had done neither.
The door opened at her back and she knew without turning she was no longer alone in the tight space when it again clicked shut. Hands smoothed over her shoulders, sinking into the tension she held there. Though she didn’t know it was possible, her head dropped a little lower and she groaned. She knew she was tense, but not that tense.
A hand pushed her hair to the side and instinct made her tilt her head to grant further access, eyes slipping closed. His lips connected with the spot where neck met shoulder and deft fingers teased along the neckline of her sweater. She let out a low moan and said, “You’ve got to stop, Paul.”
His lips traveled up to her ear, drawing a path of heated, shivery skin in their wake. “Good thing I’m not Paul then, huh?”
“Michael?” She inhaled sharply, but the shuddering breath barely made it passed her lips. “You should stop before someone walks…”
“I locked the door.” He turned her around then leaned into her, pressing her against the washing machine and boxing her in with a hand at either side of her, holding her captive in his ever-steady gaze. “It’s just the two of us now. Alone.”
Funny, he’d said that once before. Just like then, all the air seemed to be sucked from the room and Sara was suffocating. No. She was drowning.
And just as before, Sara knew she’d be lost if she didn’t cling to him then…
© 2009, Sydney Katt. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use of content will result in dragon attacks.
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