“Yeah, same here,” Nikki called after her as Kelly disappeared down the hallway to the showers.
Did he really look at her? Nodding and smiling didn’t equal being interested, just being polite. It would be nice, though, if he noticed her. She tried to quickly put him out of her mind. But now she knew his name – Tony, a typical Italian name. She’d never know if he was Italian, but it was kind of a funny coincidence.
As she walked out of the gym, she glanced across at him as he used one of the machines. He stared into the mirror as he monitored his workout but, for one split second, she could’ve sworn he made eye contact with her in the mirror from across the large room. No, she had to be mistaken; he might’ve with Kelly maybe, but not with her. She walked to her car, mentally beating herself up for being too damn shy. She’d just go home where she belonged. She’d had love once, but that was over.
Bill and Hillary would have to do.
Nikki pulled the little microwave dinner out and stirred it. In front of the TV, she looked for anything to lose herself in. She ate in silence, Bill and Hillary staring at her, hoping she’d drop something. They each got a dog cookie after she’d finished, then she climbed into the shower.
The warm water washed over her like a steamy embrace, and she let it soothe her. In her mind she saw Tony walking across the gym. He looked so sexy, so dark and dangerous, and yet his eyes were so kind. She felt a tingling between her legs, and her belly tightened. Looking down, she confirmed what she already knew – her nipples were rigid and standing straight out. She reached up, pinching and rolling one between her fingers, and she felt her abs clench. Ah, if only he were there to do that, to wrap those lips around . . .
No, she still loved Randy. But he was gone – forever. What should she do if the moment ever presented itself? Would he forgive her if he knew?
Nikki finished her shower and toweled off. When she chose a pair of panties to put on, she saw her jelly vibrator, forgotten in the drawer. It hadn’t been touched in quite some time – after all, she wasn’t a sexual being, just a shell of a woman. But something about it called to her, and she touched it, picked it up, hit the switch. It sprang to life. At the feel of the vibration, her nipples stiffened again to the point of hurting.
She lay back on the bed, her towel underneath her, and looked at the vibrator. It had little hearts all over it – how ironic. She looked down the length of her body. A little saggy, but at fifty-one, who wasn’t? Maybe she didn’t look too bad. When Randy was alive, her mound was always bare, but she’d let the hair grow back. Maybe it was time for a little landscaping. She let the tip of the vibrator trail down her body, between her breasts, and travel down to her mons. The sensation caused her back to arch, and she pressed the tip of the vibrator into the depression right above the hood of her clit. Fire shot through her body as the once-familiar feelings flooded through her, foreign and a little frightening now.
Then she thought about Tony, his smile, his dark hair, those lips. Oh, god, how she’d love to have those lips on her! The tip of the vibrator slid down to her clit, and she dipped it into her juices before bringing it back up and moving it in a circular motion. Tension started to build in her belly, coiling and releasing ever so slowly, and then picking up the pace. Her hips began to rock of their own accord, and she thought of his eyes and moaned quietly. In a few minutes she felt the peak, the heat, and before she even realized what was happening, she cried out through her orgasm, her hips thrusting and stomach clenching, his face in her memory. As the current running through her sex subsided, she plunged the vibrator into her pussy and felt it tighten around the little machine. It had been so long . . .
Shame washed over her. She’d been thinking about Tony when she should’ve been thinking about Randy. But Randy had left her there all alone, not of his choice, but still alone. Tony was a living, breathing, hot-blooded man. And she wanted him, really wanted him. Tears blurred her eyes, and she cleaned herself up and put on her plain cotton panties. After washing the vibrator with antibacterial soap, she threw it back into the drawer, hoping she’d forget it, and dressed.
She sat back down in front of the TV, but stared into space. Could she really have that again, someone to share her life with? Would a living person be enough to quiet the ghosts that would rise up? Why hadn’t she gone in that car with them? Why was she still alive? Hot tears coursed down her cheeks and she felt her heart split open again. They were dead. She’d been dead for quite some time, too, but she wanted to feel alive again. Wouldn’t it be nice if the person who revived her was Tony Walters? She knew that was a long shot, but a girl could dream, right?
CHAPTER SIX
Tony walked to his truck on Monday evening, wondering what it was about the blond woman that made him want to get to know her. If he could just get her to hold his gaze for a couple of seconds . . . but she never would. No one at the gym seemed to know her, so he had no in. He’d have to screw up the courage to speak to her and risk being labeled a creep.
He turned his phone’s ringer back on and checked for messages. He turned on the truck’s heater to make sure his muscles didn’t get too cool and stiff too fast, then started listening. Cal looking for a set of keys and finding them before he could even finish leaving the message. The plumbing contractor’s office calling about some supplies they needed before starting the next morning. His brother, Bart, asking if Walters Construction was bidding on a job he was thinking about bidding on for his electrical company. Last but not least, Dottie raving about something – he deleted that one without listening to it.
The message from Clayton was not good; those wing nuts from that weirdo environmental awareness group had apparently flattened the tires on one of the company’s forklifts, all four tires. It was the fourth sabotage of the month, and it was getting expensive fast. Why was Walters Construction the only company being targeted by these people? Nobody knew.
Listening to the voicemails served another purpose – it gave him a chance to sometimes see the blond lady leaving the gym. She was always so neatly dressed, even at her hottest and sweatiest, and Tony realized she had the look of a woman who was loved and cared-for, cherished even. She probably had someone. No way was she single.
As if on cue, she walked out of the gym and got into her red SUV. He pulled out of his parking space and watched her start her vehicle from his rearview mirror as he waited to turn out onto the street. Thinking about her was probably a bad idea; he should get a new hobby, he told himself.
He stopped at a fast food restaurant on the way home and picked up dinner. Maybe Annabeth, Katie, Clayton, and Brittany would come by later in the week. He could make it easy, pick up pulled pork barbecue and sides. If they wouldn’t come for his company, they’d definitely show up for food. They already knew he kept plenty of beer.
He loved having the kids around. Annabeth and Katie had been together for five years, and Clayton and Brittany had been married for eight. Even though he could see some of Dottie’s features in Clayton, he was still a Walters, almost as tall as Tony, with a headful of dark, wavy hair, big brown eyes, but with softer features than the Walters men. Katie and Brittany were like daughters to him. Katie’s coloring and size were so much like Annabeth’s, even though her auburn hair was lighter, that she could’ve been his own child, and the pale, red-haired Brittany was a porcelain beauty. He hoped they felt like he was an extra father to the two of them. He’d do anything for all four of them if it meant they’d be and stay happy.
As for their mother, Annabeth and Clayton had distanced themselves. She’d never been a real mother to them. Her illness had kept her from being able to love much of anyone – until she and Tony had divorced, at which time she seemed to love everyone, primarily men, and not necessarily in a good way. By then she’d been so busy sleeping her away across Jefferson County that she hadn’t had much time for her kids. Because of the way she screamed and swore and ranted and raved, they really didn’t want to spend time with her anyway. Tony had been the only pa
rent they’d ever really had, and Tony’s mother had been a great help too. Of course, he knew full well he and his mother hadn’t been a replacement for a mom. The kids never complained, but he knew it still hurt them.
After he’d cleaned up the little bit of mess he’d made in the kitchen, he turned on the shower to let it warm up and brushed his hair before climbing in. The scalding water felt good on his shoulders, still tight from his workout. He stood under the spray for a good while, letting it run down his body like a warm massage, enjoying the feeling on his skin.
As his muscles warmed, Tony thought about the blond lady. Not the prettiest woman in the world, but there was something about her that drew him in and made him want to reach out and hug her. Then he thought about her face and figured it out: There was a sadness to her smile, something behind her eyes that made his heart ache for her. He wondered what her hair looked like when it wasn’t caught up in one of those stretchy ponytail things. Was it soft? It probably smelled good. He was surprised to find he was getting hard just thinking about her. She was thin and fit, but in a soft way, not all sharp and angular. He wondered what she’d feel like under him.
He had to stop it. He didn’t even know her and, at the rate he was going, he never would.
Rinsed and dried, he padded naked across the bedroom to the closet. When he passed the mirrored closet door, he stopped and backed up. Tony took a good, long look at himself. Not too shabby, he thought. He was fifty-seven, but he was a solid fifty-seven, not paunchy, flabby, or saggy like most other fifty-somethings. His time in the gym had paid off, and he had a body that most twenty-year-olds would envy. Sure, he wasn’t thirty, but his waistline was solid, not soft. There was only the tiniest little bit of gray at his temples, and his hair was thick, wavy almost to the point of curls, and almost down to his shoulders. He still looked more than good enough.
Once he’d dressed in a pair of old jeans and a tee, he wandered into the den to watch a game. It was March Madness in the Bluegrass State, and someone had to be playing basketball somewhere.
Tony finished his last beer of the night before bedtime. After throwing the bottle away in the kitchen, he noticed the moonlight on the patio out back. Even though it was early in the year, when he opened the door he was surprised at how comfortable it was outside, and he strolled out onto the concrete and took a seat on the end of one of the chaise lounges.
The March sky was overflowing with stars of all sizes and colors and he chuckled to himself as he tried to count them. He wondered, What would it be like to be able to sit out here with a woman? My arm around her, her head on my shoulder; that would be nice. Could that really happen? He looked back up at the stars – there were so many. Were there enough women out there to actually find one who’d love him? Then a strong, hungry voice in his head spoke almost audibly, Maybe it’s time to find out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“So, what are you doing for Annabeth for her birthday?”
Tony’s heart leaped up into his throat. This was why he paid Cheryl the big bucks – she’d saved his ass so many times it wasn’t funny. “Don’t tell me you forgot,” she called from the other room.
“Um, well, no, I hadn’t actually . . .”
“Yep, you forgot.” He looked up to see her standing in the doorframe of his office, glaring at him, her arms folded across her chest.
“Um, yeah, well.” He thumped his pen on the desktop. “So what would you suggest? I could use some help here.”
“I’d say . . . start out by ordering her some flowers. That should get the ball rolling.” Cheryl piddled in the papers on his desk. “And maybe take her to dinner. Her and Katie. And get her a piece of jewelry – girls like that.”
“Jewelry?” Tony didn’t even know where to start with that one.
“Something diamond. Doesn’t even matter what.” That was Cheryl – always practical.
Then it hit him, and he jumped up from his chair and grabbed his jacket. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Where in the world are you going?”
“To order flowers.” A plan was hatching in his mind, but he wasn’t about to share it with anyone. He’d never hear the end of it, especially if it failed, which was likely.
“Can’t you do it over the phone?” Cheryl asked, staring at his back as he dashed toward the door.
“No. I don’t remember the name of the shop. Annabeth told me about it. I’ll know it when I see it,” Tony called back to her.
“So you’ll be driving around town for awhile?” Cheryl chuckled. “Well, see you when you get back, boss!” She’d known him too long. He was definitely up to something.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah . . .” Tony waved her off and trotted down the steps. The plan would work if he could just find the right florist shop.
Ten minutes and several back-tracks later, The Passionate Pansy stood across the street from the little lot where he’d parked his truck. A tiny wave of panic rolled into his chest as he crossed to the storefront. He hadn’t talked to a prospective date in a long time, but this was a woman who’d managed to have what sounded like a successful long-term relationship, and that was exactly the type of woman he’d be interested in meeting. What should he say? But she wouldn’t know why he was there, so it wouldn’t matter. This was a reconnaissance mission, just to check her out. Order flowers, no worries, no stress, get in, get out; over in a few minutes.
A bell jingled on the door when he opened it – no backing out now. He looked around the shop at the colorful arrangements and giftware, then started toward the counter in the back. Behind the counter he could see a woman, or her back at least. She had long, wavy hair, and it was a gleaming gold. Just as he made it to the counter, she turned to speak, then stopped and stared.
It was her – the blond woman from the gym. What the hell? Tony’s heart did a double twist and back flip. He hoped the shock didn’t show on his face, and he tried to compose himself.
As she turned, she automatically said, “Can I help . . .” Nikki froze. It was him. “You’re the . . .” No, don’t say The Italian. He’ll think you’re nuts. “. . . guy from the gym, right?” She looked flustered and a little pink.
“Uh,” Tony started. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember – why was he there? “Uh, yeah, hi! I recognize you too. Um, I need to order flowers for my daughter. For her birthday.” Focus, he thought. “I’m looking for someone named Nikki?”
“Oh, that’s me.” Nikki was startled, and it showed. “How did you know my name?”
Tony couldn’t believe it – the woman Annabeth had told him about was the woman from the gym? That couldn’t be right. “My daughter, um, the one I want to order flowers for? She ordered some here. She said you guys did a really nice job. So I thought I’d come by.” There, not so bad – he didn’t sound like a complete idiot. But he knew he probably had an odd look on his face. What were the chances that this could happen?
“Who’s your daughter?”
“Annabeth. Annabeth Walters.”
“Oh, yes! Annabeth! She’s a beautiful girl. She ordered them for a friend of hers.” Nikki looked down and there it was; that small, shy smile accompanied by the hint of sadness in her eyes. Tony felt the panic in his chest bloom into something very different, something warm and tender and completely unfamiliar. She looked so different, too, with no ponytail, wearing makeup and street clothes. She might’ve looked good at the gym, but she looked even better up close.
“Katie, her partner. Their anniversary,” Tony offered.
“I bet you’re proud of her. Sounds like she’s made a very happy life for herself.” Nikki picked up an order pad and a pencil. She didn’t want to look completely stupid. It was so hard to not stare and embarrass herself. Why did he have to be so good-looking? That dark hair and those deep caramel-colored eyes with gold flecks had her so flustered she could barely hold it together. She tried to rein her mind in. “So, it’s her birthday. How old?”
“She’s twenty-eight,” Tony replied. “I w
as thinking something in a pretty vase, maybe crystal? Would she like that?” He had no idea what to order, but maybe asking enough questions would get her to come out and stand beside him. He wanted that desperately.
“Any girl would like that! Do you know what colors she likes?” Nikki came out from behind the counter just as he’d hoped and sashayed toward a large display. He walked behind, watching with delight. Her gait was very graceful, and she had a small, well-defined waist and a nice sway to her hips. In her wake was a beckoning scent of something dark and warm, spicy even. He felt something stir down deep inside him, like it was stretching and waking from a long sleep. “Here’s a pretty vase. Will this do?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s great.” Tony held the cut crystal, admiring it, then handed it back. “And she likes blue – lots of blue.”
“That’s very doable. Blue, blue, and more blue, and some white accents. Does that sound good?” she asked. Blue indeed – her eyes were clear and almost turquoise, and he really wanted to get lost in them.
“That sounds great.” Tony reached over to touch a plant that looked too perfect to be real and found it to be as alive as the woman he was admiring. The place was so lush, and the flowers were so colorful. Or maybe it was her. She seemed so warm and gentle. It was as though she radiated something he couldn’t define and it filled the whole room, touched all of the flowers, made the light softer and warmer and the air sweeter. He didn’t want to finish the order because he’d have to leave, and what he really wanted was to stay there and talk to her.
“So let’s get this set up for you. What’s your name?” She certainly didn’t want him to know that she and Kelly had been talking about him in the locker room.
Damn, Tony thought. I didn’t even introduce myself – how stupid. “Tony. Tony Walters. I’m sorry, you’re Nikki?”
“Yeah. Nikki Wilkes.” She reached out her hand to shake his and he wished he’d had a chance to wipe the sweat from his palms before they touched. Her hand was small and delicate, with long fingers and beautiful nails, and when their palms touched he got the impression that something more than an introduction had passed between them. When he let go, she wrote the date and his name on the receipt. “And this is going to Annabeth Walters,” she repeated to herself out loud as she wrote, “over on Thrush Lane. I’m sorry – I can’t remember the house number.”