“It crossed my mind.”
“Shameless hussy,” he said.
“That’s me.”
“What about your friend, Dan?”
Her stomach tightened. “What about him?”
“You came all this way to find him.”
“I know, but…”
“If I’m going to lose you to this guy, I’d rather not…get in any deeper. I want you too much already. Don’t make it any tougher on me.”
“Oh, Abe,” she whispered. His face blurred as tears filled her eyes. She stepped against him and held him tightly.
“There you go again,” he said, stroking her hair. “Now why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll fix the coffee. You invited me in for coffee, remember?”
Tyler nodded. She wiped her eyes.
“Don’t try undressing in front of me, either.”
She managed a smile. “Darn, that was my plan.”
“I must be psychic.”
“Don’t you want to see what you’re missing?”
“That’s it, rub my face in it.”
“You must be psychic. That would’ve been phase two.”
Abe laughed softly and shook his head.
Tyler stepped past him. He watched as she bent over the spare bed to search her suitcase. “I thought you were going to fix the coffee.”
“Do you take anything in it?”
“Just black.”
But he didn’t turn away. Tyler took out her corduroys, her yellow blouse, the filmy bra she’d worn last night, and a fresh pair of panties. She held up the garments for Abe to see. “Do these meet with your approval?”
“Very nice.”
She gave him a coy smile. “Dan never cared much for these,” she said, and let the bra flutter to the bed.
“You have a definite cruel streak,” Abe said.
“Do I?” She took the rest of the clothes into the bathroom. “Ta ta,” she said, and shut the door. She leaned against it. Shutting her eyes, she could still feel his arms around her, the firm pressure of his body, his eager lips, the way he’d touched her breasts. I want you too much already. My God, had he really said that? He had, he had! She found herself smiling and weeping. If I’m going to lose you to this guy…
No need to worry about that, Mr. Abraham Clanton.
Tyler Clanton.
She whispered the words.
Good Christ, don’t get crazy.
But she felt crazy: joyous and guilty and confused. He wants me, but how much? What’s next?
Breakfast is next. Take it one step at a time. Breakfast, then the tour of Beast House and confronting Dan (Jesus, what’ll I say to him?), then what? Lunch, maybe. What happens when it’s time to leave? Don’t think about that. Not yet. Cross the bridges as you come to them. Maybe we can all stay one more night. Or two. Or…
“The coffee’s ready,” Abe called through the door.
“I’ll be right out,” she said. Quickly, she shed her robe and nightgown. She used the toilet, washed, brushed her teeth, rolled deodorant under her arms, and dressed. It made her feel daring and sexy to wear the gauzy blouse without a bra. Luckily, there was a pocket over each breast. She tucked it in, leaned close to the mirror, and studied herself. “Lookin’ good,” she whispered. She unfastened another button to allow a glimpse of cleavage.
Nora would open still another.
She considered it for a moment, then shook her head.
Abe smiled when she stepped out. “Lovely,” he said.
She glanced down at her blouse. “Dan always liked me in yellow.”
Abe gave her a strange look. He must suspect. Wasn’t her teasing a dead giveaway? Well, she would just let him wonder. At least for a while.
He gave her a plastic cup. Steam was still rolling off the coffee. “Nora knocked while you were changing. They’re just about ready to go.”
Tyler sipped the coffee, and wrinkled her nose.
“What can I say? It’s instant.”
“At least it’s hot.” She took her cup to the dressing table, sat down, and drank as she brushed her hair. Abe stood behind her, watching. “Was Jack there?” she asked, and saw him nod in the mirror.
“Lucky Jack,” he said.
“Lucky Nora.”
Abe put down his cup. He rubbed her shoulders, and she moaned.
Then came a quiet knocking. He let go of her, crossed the room, and opened the connecting door.
“All set and rarin’ to go?” Nora asked. She entered, followed by Jack. “We thought it’d be fun to go in town for breakfast. That sound good to everyone?”
“Sure,” Tyler said, getting up.
Nora was wearing a tube-top that left her bare to the tops of her breasts. A faint red line marked her shoulder where the man, yesterday, had struck her with the radio antenna. Her skin had a rosy glow, and her hair looked damp. She must’ve recently taken a shower, Tyler thought. Jack, too, was slightly flushed. Had they showered together? Made love under the hot spray?
Abe and I could’ve…
“Got your room key?” Abe asked her.
Nodding, she picked up her purse.
They went outside into the cool morning shadows, and Tyler slipped a hand around Abe’s back.
“I think,” Nora said, “I could go for pigs in a blanket.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gorman dreamed they were after him. He was running down a sunlit slope, laughing at first and waving the paper—the contract—overhead to taunt them. “You can’t catch me,” he sang. He knew they couldn’t. He was fleet of foot while Marty and Claire were staggering after him like sleepwalkers. No, like zombies. It suddenly struck Gorman that they were, indeed, zombies. That notion took away some of the fun: what if they should catch him? Zombies would likely treat him to a horror or two.
Though he knew they were after him, they were somewhat preoccupied. Marty was busy ripping to shreds a pair of pink panties while Claire was digging out one of her eyes with a blunt stick.
I never did that, he thought. You’re doing that to yourself, sweetheart.
Looking forward, he saw Brian wave at him from on top of the fence. Janice was up there, too, straddling the spikes—one of them in her—writhing passionately on it while she sucked Brian’s cock. She saw Gorman and sat up. “Hey,” she shouted, “that’s my contract!”
“Finders keepers, losers weepers!” he yelled back, flapping it at her.
“Forget it,” Brian told her. “You’ve got me.”
With a shrug, she leaned down again and took him into her mouth.
Gorman turned away and raced alongside the fence. Looking back, he saw Marty and Claire. They were close behind him, which didn’t make much sense because he was running and they were shambling along slowly. Marty was stuffing bits of the shredded panties into his mouth. Claire, beside him, had one eyeball dangling over her cheek and was working on the other, trying to pry it out with her stick. Let her get that one, Gorman thought, and she won’t be able to see worth shit.
Then he tripped over the end of a bathtub. He fell toward the water. The water was red. A naked woman, reclining in the tub, stretched out her arms to catch him. Her wrists were crossed-hatched with slashes. Martha! He fell toward her, and fell, and fell. “Leave me alone!” he shrieked, and lurched awake.
The room was bright with daylight. Gasping for breath, he stared at the ceiling. He used the pillow to mop the sweat off his face.
Good Christ, he thought. What a nightmare.
He glanced at his travel clock. Nine twenty. He’d been in bed no more than three hours. But he’d had some sleep before Marty and Claire came knocking.