20
Damien was never nervous. But he sure was now. He gave himself a little pep talk about how he totally could do this. Her mother was a woman after all. He was good with women. But this was Mary’s mom and dad. People who were really important to her.
Mary squeezed his hand. “I promise you they’re really nice people. She just wants to get a look at you. If she thought you were a bad guy, she wouldn’t be inviting you to dinner, I can tell you that much.”
“Oh yeah? There’s a story to that. Tell me.”
“Let’s see, um, five years ago? No, six. I went out with a guy for a while. He was nice enough. But I never quite trusted him. Anyway, it got back to her that he had a fiancée of all things. This woman he’d actually been living with down in Tacoma. I had no idea. He had an apartment here; how on Earth could I have known? But she found out and she tracked him down. She never told me what was said. He never told me what was said. But he confessed about the other woman and moved out of his apartment that same week. She’s sort of ruthless. So what I’m saying is she’s not one to hide or beat around the bush. If she likes you, she likes you, and she does not have people she dislikes at her kitchen table.”
She pulled up the driveway and got out.
“You should let me open your door.” He frowned at her and she laughed, holding a hand out.
“I promise next time. Come on.”
He noted that she did not bring any food.
They went up the front steps. She tapped on the door and they went in. “It’s me!”
“In the kitchen.”
She shut the front door and he took her coat, hanging it on the coat rack near the door, along with his own.
“Come on back then. Your father is making what he thinks is a compelling argument as to why we should have ice cream with the pie.”
“My dad has really high cholesterol and high blood pressure,” Mary told him in an undertone. “He’s always trying to sneak his favorite foods, most of which are forbidden now.”
The house was nice. Pictures of the kids from babyhood into the present day all over the walls. Nothing fancy. Nothing run-down. It was clear a family had been raised there with love. He liked that a lot.
Jeanne Whaley stood in front of a very tall man wearing a sheepish expression.
“I don’t see why a little tiny scoop is a problem.”
“Because you have Doritos in your shed. Don’t think I don’t know.”
“Hey, guys.” Mary moved to hug her mother and then her father, both of whom turned to face Damien. “Jeanne and Mike Whaley, this is Damien Hurley. Damien, my parents.”
Damien smiled and held his hand out. “It’s really a pleasure to meet you.” Mary and her mother bore a very strong resemblance. The shape of the eyes, the curly hair, the smiles were very similar as well.
Jeannie looked him up and down. “Mary says you’re a musician.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked to her father and took his hand in a shake. Not too hard or too long. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Manners are a good start. There’s beer in the fridge. Want one?” Mike tipped his chin.
“That would hit the spot. Thank you.”
“Sit. I’ll get one for everyone.” Mary moved to the fridge as they all sat.
“Company is here. Ice cream is a must for company. Jules sent over the cherry walnut bars. It’s a crime not to have ice cream with them.”
“Are you sucking in your cheeks? Mary, look at your father pretending to be scrawny to get some ice cream. I hope it hits the spot as it clogs your arteries and kills you. Leave me with three kids. Two of them without enough sense, though Juliet will save Cal from himself. Ryan? Well, goodness knows. You can’t die yet because it would be terribly unfair to leave me with these creatures to raise on my own.”
“What’s for dinner?” Mary interjected smoothly as she put the beers down on the table.
“Meatloaf. Mashed potatoes, corn. Tomatoes and cucumbers. Oh, and bread.”
“Yum.” Mary sat next to Damien. “She makes the best meatloaf in the whole world. I promise.”
“I’m not one to turn down meatloaf. It’s one of my favorites.”
Jeanne turned her gaze back to him. “Do you play cards?”
Mary snorted. “Watch her. Dad, how’s the computer?”
“Slow. This thing keeps coming up telling me I won a laptop. Pretty cool, huh?”
Mary paled and Damien had to work really hard not to laugh as he knew she counted to ten. “Dad, I told you about that. You didn’t really win a laptop. No one ever wins the laptop. Did you give them any information?”
“I clicked the pop-up thing. Is that bad?”
Mary looked to him and he bit the inside of his cheek.
“Go on and fix your dad’s machine. I’ll watch the meatloaf and in the meantime, Damien can play some cards with me.”
“Watch your wallet, boy. She’s crafty as well as beautiful. The curse of a Whaley female.” Mike winked at his wife. “The blessing too. Always got your back in a corner. Vicious.”
Jeanne waved a lazy hand at him. “Charmer. Go on and don’t worry, Mary, I’ll keep him safe.” Mary’s mother patted his hand with a cheeky grin.
“Lord,” Mary muttered as she escorted her father from the room.
“Now then.” She pulled out two decks of cards. “I’ve got a few games I like to play. ’Course they’ve got special rules, but you’re a quick one, I wager.”
He liked Jeanne Whaley. Even when she played cards fast and loose, and he wasn’t quite sure, but he thought she may have played fast and loose with the rules too.
“You must like her a lot to let me cheat so much.” She lifted her beer and tapped it to his.
“I do like her. A lot.”
“What’s your plan?”
“I’m trying. She’s wily, your daughter. We’re moving forward into something deeper. I hope, anyway. It’s going slow. She wants it that way so I’m doing my best to accommodate her wishes.”
“Lots of differences between you.” She caught his eye. “You live in another state. Part of your job is to travel around a lot. A fast life. Mike is atrocious with computers. But I’m not. I researched you and your band.” She didn’t say more. She didn’t have to.
“Fame is . . . well, it’s not easy, no matter how well adjusted you are. So much is beyond what you can do anything about and you have what seems like an unlimited amount of money. People don’t tell you no. In fact there are people around you who make it their business to get you everything you ever dreamed of. We live hard. The road is sort of crazy. But we have a business, it’s our band and we know better than to screw that up.”
She looked him over carefully. “What does your family think of this thing between you and Mary?”
“They like her. She’s a small-town girl in a lot of ways. When we’re not on the road we live on a ranch. Work on a ranch. It’s grounding. My parents have been married thirty-six years. They’re solid people and they see that Mary is solid too. She values the things they value. Family. Hard work. Compassion.”
“How do you think this will work with you out there traveling around? Surrounded by women and drugs. You live over four hours away even when you’re not on the road. My daughter has a life. She’s built something for herself.”
“I know that and I respect her business. I respect her life. I don’t want her to give it up to be with me. I don’t know how we’d handle the living situation. But we have a ways to go before we take that step anyway.”
“Fair enough. You plan to get out there and start nailing every female you take a liking to? On the road?”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. That part of my life is over.”
She looked up from her cards and he realized she was the disciplinarian of the family. She caught him in place and held him, the threat in her gaze totally and utterly clear. The only other woman who had that gaze of terror was Sharon Hurley. “You see to it that it is. Because if it isn’t, if you hurt her, you’ll have me to deal with. I will hunt you down and make you sorry you ever looked twice at my daughter.”
A shiver of fear went through him. Man, she and his mother could possibly have been separated at birth.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled, the threat relayed. “All right then. I believe you owe me ten dollars. I’m going to get the bread under the broiler.” She stood.
“Can I help?”
“The plates are up in that cabinet. It’s just the four of us tonight. Silverware is in that drawer.” She pointed and went about her work and he set the table like he was supposed to.
* * *
“So? You ready to hightail it back to Hood River yet?” Mary asked him, backing down the drive.
“Nah. Your mom is a great cook, though not in your league. Don’t tell her I said so though. Your parents are nice people, just like you said. Though your mom is really scary.”
She laughed. “What’d she say?”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s concerned for you. I get it. It’s my job to prove her fears are groundless.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” He took her hand. “My job to prove it to you too. I get it. You’re wary. My track record isn’t the best. But to be fair, I’ve never really made any attempt to be in a relationship with a woman. I want that with you. I’m willing to wait you out. To prove to you that I’m ready for it.”
She didn’t say much as they drove back to her place.
When she stopped the car, she turned to him. “I’m really scared.”
“What for, Curly? I’m laying it all out on the table for you. I want you. Not for a fling. I don’t want to date you. I want there to be an us.”
“There’s a lot of temptation out there. I can’t compete with that.”
He nodded. “I can’t lie and I don’t want to. Yes, there is. But you’re wrong to think you can’t compete with it. You’re better than anything out there. There’s you. Here. Waiting for me. There’s nothing that can beat that, temptation wise. I’ve done faceless, nameless women in every city. I don’t want that anymore. I want you. I want what you make me feel.”
She licked her lips and he knew she was deciding on whether or not to share something with him. Finally she sucked in a breath. “My pictures with Daisy were copied from her Twitter account and put on the Internet.”
Damn it. “What? When?”
“Today. Miles actually told me. He saw it on some board he visits. I guess it’s officially news in some sense that Mary Whaley is dating Damien Hurley.”
He scrubbed hands over his face. “I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“He only told me a few hours ago. I’ve been processing it. Trying to figure out if it mattered more than being with you.”
The pause she took felt about a million years long.
“But it doesn’t.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Daisy locked her account. Took all the pictures of me off. She changed the settings on her Facebook account too.”
“Do you hate me?’
She shook her head slowly. “No. You didn’t do it. And if we’re going to do this, I have to get used to it, I guess. I don’t like it that my friends have to be affected by it. But I don’t like the alternative even more.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Yeah. So, all right. We can take it slow. But I need to tell you I’m not that woman, you know the one who looks the other way when her man is out on the road. If you betray me, there won’t be a next time. I’m not stupid. I’m not desperate. I won’t pretend that I don’t see it.”
He kissed her fingertips. “Of course. I’d expect nothing less. And I told you; I’m only interested in you. Mary and Damien.”
She let out a long breath. “All right then.”
“Does this mean you’ll be our personal chef while we work on the new album? Have you given it any thought?”
“This is serious. This is my business.”
“I know it is! I’m serious. I swear.”
She got out and he followed her into the house, steering her toward the couch. She kicked her shoes off and allowed him to get close. “It’s a real offer. Ezra is the person who suggested it, actually. So it’s not all about me having you near, though I can’t lie and say that’s not attractive.”
She gave him a look before snorting and reaching for a nearby pad and pen.
“Here’s what I’m willing to do. I’ll come down four days a week. I need to be up here on the weekends for supper club anyway. I’ve decided to hold off on all but weekend catering gigs for a bit of time. But I’m looking into the food-delivery personal chef thing I told you about. I’ve got two clients already. Anyway, it means I can take off four days a week to be in Hood River.”
He tucked the hair back away from her face. “Are you going to be all right? That sounds like an awful lot of work.”
She softened, leaning into his touch. “I’m good. Thank you for worrying about me. I’m still trying to figure out what to do with my business. I’m experimenting, and having the income from the personal chef stuff and your job enables me to do it.”
“You are going to allow us to pay real rates, right? Because we normally eat junk food and takeout and whatever my mom feels sorry enough to make for us. We’re sort of wretched when we’re recording so she stays away a lot.”
“You will pay my standard rates. I’ll get free room and board anyway and you’ll pay for the food. Fair enough?”
“Good. Yes.”
“Particulars? What are your hours? I mean do you work on a set schedule? Or what?”
“We work from about eleven to about, say midnight. Some days it goes much later and starts later the next day. But Ezra and Paddy are super-anal about staying on task. Our last record took three weeks to make. The one before that was six weeks.”
She nodded, scratching out notes. “There’s a kitchen in the barn right?”
He nodded and she kept writing.
“All right. For my fee, I’ll make you guys three meals and two snacks. I’ll talk with the others to see what they like and then give you a menu in advance. You have three days to submit changes. After that, if you don’t like grapes or whatever, pick them out.”
He grinned, leaning in to steal a kiss and then another. “I love it when you’re stern.”
“Hm. I’m working here, so back off.”
He did, but he kept grinning.
“When I come back up here on the weekends, I’ll leave you all enough food to last the weekend. If you’d prefer, I can set up a buffet a few times a day and you can graze as you please.”
“I’ll let you decide after you talk with the rest. What else do you need? Will you be a lady of leisure while you’re not making us awesome food? You’re welcome to sit in while we work. You may not want to. It gets . . . intense sometimes. You’re welcome to ride horses or whatever too.”
“I’m going to spend the time when I’m not with you all working on recipes for my book.”
“Awesome. In my kitchen? Even better.”
“We’ll see. I don’t know if it’ll sell. But it seems to me a great opportunity to work on it while I’m getting paid.”
She was practical. It was an attractive quality.
“I’ll drive down Sunday night after the supper club and come home Thursday night.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll fly you up and back. No, don’t argue. I will worry about you the whole time if you drive. You can leave your car here and use mine when you’re at the ranch. Consider it part of your pay.”
It would be nice not to have to face a long-ass drive after supper club or on Thursday night up to Bainbridge.
“Okay. If you’re sure it won’t interrupt your work schedule.”
“So we have a deal?”
“Yes.”
He took the pad and pen, setting them aside, and then shook her hand. Then he sat back and gave her the look. Oh, that look of his. She was in trouble, but it was the good kind.
“So, I was thinking about how the traditional handshake really seemed boring.”
“That so?”
“Yeah. I think sealing the deal in a whole ’nother way would be much more fun.”
“Why do I get the feeling your idea involves nakedness?”
“Because you know me really well. I’d like to know you even better. In a carnal sense.” He crawled over her as she lay back on her couch.
“I’m perfectly all right with that.”
He kissed her lazily because they had time.
He kept from lying totally against her, holding himself away because the lure of her body would have rushed him and he wanted to cruise around the kiss. Wanted it to be a lazy Sunday-afternoon drive instead of a race.
She sighed into his mouth, her palms sliding up his arms, up over his shoulders. It made him hot that she dug his body the way she did. Made him feel invincible to be desired by a woman like her. Not just for his talent and his personality or whatever, but that sort of raw greed for his body.
She opened to him easily, nipping his bottom lip, laving the sting enough to chip away at his resolve.
He managed to hold on until she pushed on his shoulders. When he pulled back, breaking the kiss, she scrambled up, pulling her shirt up and off, bending and tossing her underpants off to the side, leaving her in a skirt and her bra.
Struck dumb, he kept motionless until she tossed the bra over her shoulder. Then he moved to sit and she straddled his lap.
“Are you going to ravish me?”
She nibbled on his earlobe and then down his neck. “Yes, I think so.” Then she grabbed his belt and made quick work of getting his jeans open and his cock out.
“I think you should be nice and ready first.”
The smile she gave him sent shivers through his system.
“That so?”
She traced his lips and then he sucked her fingers into his mouth. She leaned in close. “Get them wet.”
He groaned and she caught her lip between her teeth. Which was hot enough to watch until she flicked her fingertips over her nipples, which hardened under her touch.
One hand slid down her belly and up under her skirt. He couldn’t see what she was doing there, but he knew. In his head, he knew her fingers played against her p-ssy, dipping inside and then back up to her *.
Imagining it may have been as hot as watching it. And he liked to watch plenty well. The peekaboo nature of her hand, out of sight, and the fingers on her nipple made him so hard he ached.
“Are you wet?”
“Mmm hmm.” She hummed, her head falling back, spilling that mass of dark curls all down her shoulders.
He surrounded her fingers on her nipple with his own, and then moved to the other nipple. He tugged the way he knew she liked. Knew she got hotter and wetter.
One of his hands followed the path she’d taken earlier, first suiting up because when she came he planned to get in her cunt as soon as possible. And then he slid up under that skirt and to her p-ssy. He traced circles around her gate as she worked her *, slowly easing in and back out. Over and over until she came in a hot rush against his palm, her head dropping on his shoulder as he embraced her.
“Now then.”
All her post-climax lethargy wisped away when he pressed into her in one quick, hard thrust, filling her in a way that was familiar and yet exciting. She knew his shape and size and her body adjusted as it welcomed him.
But he wasn’t content to let her set the pace. Instead, he kept controlling hands at her waist, holding tight, guiding her up and down at his speed.
Not that she had any complaints. There was something so incredibly hot about the way he did it, about the way he moved her exactly how he wanted. All that laid-back sexuality sort of exploded into something else. Something harder and more raw. And that worked too.
It really, really worked.
What worked even better was the way he walked his fingers over to her p-ssy and made her come twice more until she was nearly boneless, totally wet and sensitized. Then he began to thrust up as he pulled her down. Harder and harder, sending her breasts to bouncing and a flush working over her skin.
And then he came, her name a snarl, his teeth finding her shoulder, sinking in until she gasped. Not from pain.
“That’s what I call sealing the deal.” He kissed her chin, then her lips.