I smiled hello to her, rubbing my belly to show her I was merely an innocent pregnant female having a nice stroll, and continued on my path to the house, the camera gripped tightly in my hands. I didn't go to the front door, but stalked to the nearest side window.
A dog barked and growled, the sound so menacing I jumped and whirled around, my gaze darting in every direction. There, behind the chain fence, was a Chihuahua. He continued to bark and growl at me.
"Shut up, or you'll be breakfast," I whispered fiercely.
His ears flattened, but he went silent. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned my attention back to the window. The curtains were lacy and split down the middle. By pressing my eye to the glass, I had a perfect view inside. Unfortunately, the living room was empty.
Had those horny cheaters already adjourned to the bedroom?
"I can't believe you're doing this," Royce said from behind me. "I can't believe you dragged me into this."
"I can't believe those two don't even have the willpower for a conversation before jumping into the main event. And dragged you? Please."
Just then, Nora rounded a corner, Jonathan close at her heels. "Wait," I said. "They're coming this way." Nora carried three clear bottles filled with…oil? I gasped. "Those sick, perverted shits. I think they're going to massage each other."
"Come on, sweetheart. You don't need to see that." He tugged on my arm, but I resisted.
"Oh, no. I'm not leaving."
The couple sat on the couch at the far wall, facing me, and I snapped several pictures through the lace curtains. Nora held up one of the bottles and Jonathan sniffed. His nose wrinkled and he shook his head. Nora rubbed some on her arm and he sniffed again. They repeated the exact same action with the other two bottles.
I watched as Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, his expression frustrated. His mouth was moving, but I couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Uh, sugar bottoms," Royce said. "I think we need to go."
"Not yet. They're about to do something. I can tell."
"Sweetie. Maybe you didn't hear me. We need to go."
"Just a min-"
"What are you two doing?" a scratchy female voice snapped.
I whipped around. In my haste, my camera slapped against the window glass with a loud clang. An elderly woman wearing her bathrobe and rollers stood in front of us, her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled eyes were narrowed and her lips were pulled taut. My heart almost leapt out of my chest. I stood frozen, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do, only knowing that at any moment Jonathan and Nora were going to come sprinting out of that house.
"Nora!" the old woman called. "Nora, get out here. You got peepers."
"Run," Royce shouted. There was laughter in his voice. He grabbed my wrist and we took off in a mad dash.
I was hooting with my own half hysterical, half disbelieving laughter as I grabbed my hat to keep it from flying off my head. My belly bounced up and down with every step.
We jumped into the car-which he'd wisely left running- and peeled out, the tires squealing all the way down the street. From the rearview mirror, I watched Jonathan and Nora stop abruptly in front of the old woman, who was pointing in our direction.
"That was close. Too close," I panted. Another chuckle slipped out. My blood was pumping at lightning speed, and my breath emerged ragged and shallow.
Royce's smile grew wider. "Did you get the evidence you wanted?"
"No. They were doing some sick, pre-sex ritual, I think. Five more minutes and I would've nailed him."
Royce shook his head, causing his fake beard to fall and hang at one side. "Maybe he's not cheating."
"Not cheating!" I lost all traces of humor. "What was he doing at that woman's house, then? Why did he lie to my mom about his whereabouts?"
"Okay, he's cheating. Want me to beat the shit out of him?"
I plopped against the seat rest. "Let me get back to you on that."
On the way home, we stopped at the printer and dropped off the invitation. We received several odd looks because of our attire. "It'll be ready for your approval when you return from Florida," I told Royce.
We arrived at my apartment soon after, and he walked me to my door. I was eager to load the pictures onto my computer and see if there was something in them I had missed at the scene.
"Naomi," Royce said, an odd note in his voice.
I was just about to insert the key in the lock, but I stopped and turned to him. "Yes?" Our gazes locked. He'd removed the beard and his lips were slightly lifted at the corners. I loved- no, hated-loved-hated the way his scent and heat surrounded me every time he was near.
"I'll miss you while I'm gone."
I gulped. I'd miss him, too. Horribly. He made me laugh, made me ache, made my hormones spike. He made me crazy, made me ache, made me feel so wonderfully alive. He confused me, made me ache, branded me, made me ache. Did I mention he made me ache?
He leaned down and lightly brushed his lips over mine. The kiss was soft and sweet and oh, so tender. Filled with promise. I shivered, desperately craving more. Maybe… maybe I'd just invite him in and show him my bedroom. I mean, saying goodbye properly would be okay. If I didn't allow myself to linger in his arms afterward, surely my emotions would be safe. I'd already decided to sleep with him again. Hadn't I? I couldn't remember, I'd changed my mind so many times.
My fingers fisted around the fabric of his shirt, and I opened my mouth to ask him if he wanted to stay.
"I'm dying to have you again," he said, cutting off my words, "but I'm going to wait until you realize this isn't a sexual relationship. This isn't-what did you call it? An unemotional fling."
I frowned.
"I want your affection. I want your trust. You don't have to worry about me," he said. "Ever. There isn't a woman out there who compares to you on any level. I'm not going to be with someone else while I'm gone. I'm not going to have a one-night stand or any type of sexual relationship in Florida."
"How can I be sure?" I asked softly. Dare I admit, desperately?
"It's called trust, baby, and you're just going to have to give me yours. You're the only woman I want. Think about that while I'm gone."
He left me standing there, my fingers tracing my lips, his heady, intoxicating words ringing in my head.
For the next several days, I worked feverishly on the decorations for Mrs. Powell's party, despite the fact that Royce still hadn't approved a location. I didn't think about him-and how he'd abandoned me to go on his trip, how spying on my step-dad had been fun because he'd made it fun. I didn't think about Jonathan, either-and how the pictures revealed nothing sexual had happened at Nora's. Nor did I think about anything related to either of them-like the fact that both men had me tied in knots.
I concentrated only on the party, on the vivid blue, green and violet table drapes, the multi-hued satin pillows I planned to scatter over the floor, and the perfect exotic lanterns I'd rent.
On the fourth (lonely) morning after Royce's departure, I went to Kera's for an impromptu breakfast (at Kera's insistence) only to learn my cousin had prepared one of her new, exotic recipes. Some kind of fried meat with a disgusting egg sauce. I should have called in sick. I was destined to be sick anyway, if I ate that crap.
"So what's going on with you?" Kera asked after taking a huge bite of her meat. She chewed as if it were one of the most delicious things she'd ever eaten. "You've been ignoring us for days."
I started with business. "What kind of food can you make for an Arabian Nights party?"
"Hmm. Let's see… what about ashta with honey, baclawa, kounafa, mafrouki and stuff like that?"