The Goose, the Gander, & the Three French Hens Read online

  “You had nothing to do with it.”

  “I know that and you know that—”

  “And Mary Claire will, too. She doesn’t have a mean or vindictive bone in her beautiful body.”

  It would be easier to handle if he didn’t already feel like a first-class schmuck. She’d trusted him, she’d loved him, and he left her. “Everyone in her life has left her, either skipping out on her or dying. She’s alone.”

  “No, she’s not. Claire has Trish, Karma, and the rest of the Kincaids. And from the sound of it, she’s got you, too.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I want what’s best for Mary Claire, but I’m just here until I get the mess my dad left me straightened out, and then I’m gone.”

  Trapper’s laugh wasn’t easy to ignore. “Yeah, whatever you say, sport. Life has a way of making a mockery of the best-laid plans and all that.”

  “Not mine.”

  “Right. Go ahead and think that if it helps you sleep at night. Just remember you’ll probably end up sleeping alone. I’ll get in touch with you after the accountants do their thing. Before then, I suggest you grow a pair and talk to Claire.”

  Chapter 5

  Claire never had a problem she couldn’t put out of her mind while painting. Not that Jack was a problem. Still, she wasn’t able to stop thinking about him. Maybe it was because every time she moved, she got a twinge of something that wasn’t really discomfort but was definitely something she’d never dealt with before. She tossed the brush aside and stood, stretching sore muscles and rubbing the spot at the base of her spine that was slightly abraded. It didn’t matter whether it was rug burn or wall burn or both—it was driving her crazy. The elastic on her underwear rubbed against it whenever she made a move, reminding her every time she changed positions of all the positions that Jack had taught her. God, she hoped he didn’t figure out what a sexual novice she’d been. She definitely wouldn’t be considered a novice now.

  “I told you she got some last night,” Karma said, and leaned against the open door of Claire’s studio.

  Trish peaked in and wore a grin. “Is she walkin’ funny?”

  “I am not deaf, and I’m definitely not walking funny.” Was she? Had she been? Shit, she hoped not.

  Karma held out a hand. “You owe me ten bucks, Trish. Pay up.”

  “I do not. Claire hasn’t admitted to anything.”

  “No, but when I ran upstairs to grab some salad dressing for my lunch, there was an empty condom wrapper under the coffee table—not the same brand I slipped into her purse, either. I seriously doubt they used it to make a water balloon.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Our Jack is a regular Boy Scout—always prepared.”

  Prepared for one time—not seven. Which made Claire wonder if having sex seven times in one long night . . . and oral exams in the morning was as unusual as she thought it was. Not that she could really ask these two. It would be tantamount to telling them exactly what she and Jack had done, and there was no way she was going to share that.

  Karma’s eyes twinkled like the star on the top of her Christmas tree. “So stop denying it, Claire. Tell us how it was with Jack.”

  Claire shrugged; she was so not going to talk about her sex life. “Dinner was wonderful.”

  Trish sat on the old couch Claire had recovered a half-dozen times and sipped her soda. “That’s nice, sweetie, but it’s dessert we’re really interested in.”

  “Do I ask you about your sex lives?”

  “No,” Trish answered. “But you would if either of us had one at the moment. You knew all about me and Billy.”

  Claire remembered Trish’s play-by-plays and wished she didn’t. “Not because I asked. I only know because you wouldn’t stop talking about it. Short of sticking my fingers in my ears and singing la, la, la, I had no choice.”

  Karma let out a laugh. “She has you there, Trish.”

  Claire’s cell rang, and after checking the caller, she let it go to voice mail and went to mix her next color. “Are you two going to hang out all evening or are you going to leave and let me get some work done?”

  Karma sat beside Trish. “Don’t take it personally. Claire’s just pissy because now that she’s gotten some, she’s all hot and bothered just thinking about it, and Jack’s nowhere in sight. Although I’d bet you a twenty that call she just let go to voice mail was Jack.”

  Trish shook her head. “I’m not going to throw good money after bad. I always lose. I think our Claire is playing hard to get.”

  Claire turned to her work and then gave her audience a sideways glance. “I am hard to get—there’s no playing involved.” Just sex and that was exactly the way she wanted it. She was still on a slow burn because Jack expected her to drop everything to go skiing, just like the old days. But she wasn’t that girl, not anymore. She didn’t need to spend time with him—at least not outside of bed. She tried to convince herself that if she kept everything strictly physical, there’d be no danger of falling for him again. “Neither of us is interested in anything permanent. And before you start, Jack’s only in Boise until he finishes dealing with his father’s estate and then it’s auf Wiedersehen for good.”

  Karma sat forward and shook her head. “You don’t know that. Maybe he’ll realize what a mistake he made when he lost you.”

  “It’s been seven years. If he hasn’t figured it out by now, he’s not going to. Anyway, I’m just not interested.”

  Trish laughed in her face. “You are such a liar.”

  “No, she’s not.” Karma stood and walked over to where Claire was painting an armoire. “Claire has no interest in a relationship with Jack or anyone. She’s not lying; she’s afraid.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Karma. I’m not afraid. I’m just . . . resigned.”

  Karma picked up her bag. “Come on, Trish. We might as well leave her to her work. She’s a hopeless case.”

  “You’re right.” Claire tightened her ponytail and stretched her back again. “Jack’s made it perfectly clear that he’s leaving. There’s no reason to get attached to him—it’s too dangerous.”

  Karma stopped, put her hands on her hips, and shook her head. “Getting attached is a no-no, but having mind-blowing, sweaty, head-banging sex is safe?”

  Finally, someone understood. “Exactly.”

  Karma held out her hand and Trish slapped a ten on her palm. “Her reasoning is completely skewed, but at least she admitted to the mind-blowing, sweaty, head-banging sex. Claire, I guess we’ll see you tonight at Humpin’ Hannah’s.”

  “Why, what’s up?”

  “The whole family is going to be there. Andrew’s coming in, remember?”

  “Oh, right. I almost forgot.”

  Karma laughed. “There’s no almost about it. You did forget. So are you going to bring Jack?”

  “Why would I?”

  Karma shook her head. Claire didn’t miss the grin Karma shot Trish. “Sometimes you just have to let the people you love make their own mistakes.”

  Trish did a double take. “Since when?”

  “Since I realized that even though I’m the most successful meddler in the family, I’m not the only one.”

  Claire didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but she didn’t question it. After all, her first order of business was getting rid of her two best friends. “I’ll be there by eight.” She had work to do and they just proved to be more of a distraction than Jack was—and that was saying something.

  Jack slammed down the phone and paced the room. He’d called Claire three times and each time he got nothing but her voice mail. This time he didn’t bother leaving a message. What was the point? He understood she had work to do, but she couldn’t work all night, could she?

  The conversation with Trapper spurred him on, so he grabbed the keys and headed down the mountain. He needed to talk to Mary Claire whether she wanted to speak to him or not. Just in case, he’d grab a box of condoms. A twelve-pack.

  As he drove down Castle Rock Road toward Mary Clair
e’s North End home, he tried to figure out what to say. He’d spent the day going through more of his father’s papers in the old man’s home office, relieved that he hadn’t found any more evidence of illegal activity. It seemed the only people he stole from and cheated were friends and family. His mother had dealt with his father’s cheating by divorcing the old man and remarrying. Jack was just glad she made a better choice with her second marriage than she had with her first.

  Now at least he felt sure that the only thing he had left to make right was the Coleman Bennett debacle. A debacle he’d made worse by sleeping with Mary Claire last night. Still, what man could have resisted? He hadn’t been nearly as prepared for the new Mary Claire as he should have been. He glanced at the glove compartment where he’d stashed the box of condoms. He’d never taken her for the aggressive type. She’d never been so forward when they were together. Obviously, she’d come into her own, sexually at least, since he left. Just the thought of her with someone other than him spurred unwelcome feelings of possessiveness he’d never before experienced. Hell, he’d left her. He had no right to think she’d spent the past seven years awaiting his return. From her performance last night, she’d obviously learned a few things. But then when he’d been with her, when he looked into those incredible eyes of hers, it was as if the seven years apart hadn’t existed. He felt everything he always had and more. It made him think maybe he’d been the one waiting for her all these years. She was the woman against whom he measured every other woman he’d dated, and they’d all fallen short. And now to come home and find she’d only gotten better—more sensual, more independent, more irresistible, more unforgettable. He scrubbed his hand over his face. He was so completely screwed.

  He should have talked to her before they’d started shedding their clothes—but once she started down that road, he let his little head do all the thinking, and then this morning, talking was the last thing on her mind. She’d given him the bum’s rush and couldn’t wait to get him out of her home. There was none of the usual morning-after questions. No planning another date. And since she hadn’t answered or returned any of his calls, it seemed as if Mary Claire might not be interested in another date or sex-filled adventure—which was a bloody shame since for him last night had been one for the record books.

  There was no question in his mind that she’d enjoyed herself as much, if not more, than he did—he’d never been jealous of a woman being multi-orgasmic, but he had been last night. There were just some things a woman couldn’t fake, and he knew the orgasms he’d given her were the real things.

  They needed to talk. If she wasn’t home, he’d stop by Humpin’ Hannah’s. It was Saturday night, after all. He was pretty sure Karma would be working, and if Karma hadn’t changed since high school, she’d more than likely know where he could find Mary Claire.

  Of course there would be a price.

  Chapter 6

  Claire bent over the pool table at Humpin’ Hannah’s, lined up her shot, and hit the cue ball. She held her breath and watched it hit the target with just enough force and the perfect amount of backspin to send the eight ball into the center pocket for the game. Claire and Andrew had teamed up to take on his best friend, Jessie, and her husband, Fisher, Karma’s big brother. Beating them was quite a feat. Fisher and Jessie were not only fiercely competitive, but they were also amazing at just about everything sports related—especially pool. The win had given Claire and Andrew bragging rights that, until today, Jessie had held, having beaten Trapper while she and Fisher had been dating.

  Claire jumped up and down, high-fived Andrew, and stepped into his outstretched arms for a celebratory hug.

  Andrew had just flown in from LA, where he was some kind of television writer, to spend the holidays with Jessie and the Kincaid clan and, well, her, too. After all, the Kincaids had pretty much adopted her after her father died.

  Andrew hugged her closer than was normal. “Is there something I need to know, sugar?” He whispered in her ear.

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t look now, but there’s a big-ass dark-haired guy heading our way looking like he’s got murder on his mind.”

  She turned to look.

  “I told you not to look.”

  “Oh, shit.” Her eyes met Jack’s and held. He was heading toward them and Andrew was right—Jack’s eyes spit fire. She tried to step away from Andrew, but he kept his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

  “A friend of yours?”

  “It’s complicated. He’s sort of an ex-boyfriend.”

  “Does he know about the ‘ex’ part?”

  It didn’t look like it.

  Jack stopped in front of them and, much to Claire’s chagrin, Andrew didn’t drop his arm from around her waist.

  “Jack. Hi.”

  “Mary Claire.” He didn’t look at her; he just kept staring at Andrew.

  “Jack Bennett, this is my friend Andrew Monahan. Andrew, Jack. Andrew just flew back into town to spend the holidays with the Kincaids.” She ignored the fact that Jack was visually threatening Andrew. Heck, Andrew seemed to get a kick out of it. “Jack and I went to high school together.”

  Jack just raised an eyebrow. “Mary Claire, I need to talk to you. Privately.”

  She looked around and saw this little standoff was the center of the Kincaid clan’s attention. “It’s not really a good time. Andrew and I just won the last game, so we’re playing the next.”

  “How long will you be?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on how well we play.”

  Hunter Kincaid and his wife, Toni, were already racking the balls. “You’re more than welcome to wait, or I can just give you a call tomorrow.”

  “I’ll wait.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the corner.

  “Suit yourself.” She shrugged out of Andrew’s hold, chalked the tip of her pool stick, and smiled at Toni Kincaid. “Are you and Hunter ready? I’m breaking.”

  Toni, Hunter’s dark-haired Goth wife, laughed. “It definitely looks like you’re breaking that guy’s balls. I just hope you don’t do the same damage on the pool table, or Hunter and I are screwed.”

  Claire looked over her shoulder and saw Jack take a seat at a table. “Hey, I’m in the middle of a winning streak. It’s not a good time for a chat.”

  “Still, you gotta love that he-man possessive type. He looked as if he wanted to rip Andrew’s arm from around you and beat him with it. Now he’s just branding you with his stare. My, my, my, Claire, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

  “We’re not really. It’s temporary.”

  “Does he know that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it looks like he doesn’t share—even when it comes to temporary flings.”

  “Toni, don’t be ridiculous. Andrew and I were just playing pool.”

  “That doesn’t seem to matter. Andrew had his hands on you and your boy Jack didn’t like it.”

  “He’s not my boy or my anything.”

  “He begs to differ. But don’t worry. Trapper’s dealing with him.”

  Claire couldn’t believe this. She looked up to find Jack still staring at her while Trapper laughed and poured Jack a beer. “Oh, that’s just great.”

  Toni let out a girlie sigh. “You might want to get on with the game. You’ve got someone on a slow burn waiting for you.”

  Jack’s head throbbed to the tune of “Jingle Bell Rock” while he watched Mary Claire pick off the balls on the table. Every time she sunk one, she and that guy Andrew high-fived each other.

  Trapper leaned against the wall beside Jack. “They’re just friends.”

  Jack shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” Except it did. He saw that guy’s arm around Mary Claire and he saw red.

  “Yeah, right.” Trapper laughed and took a sip of his beer. “You would have gotten a lot farther with Claire if you didn’t stalk in looking like you wanted to drag her to your cave by her hair. She’s been single for a long time,
Jack. You don’t take someone like Claire Coleman out on one date and then treat her like she’s your personal property.”

  “I just asked to talk to her.” He raked his hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “You know why.”

  Trapper took his cowboy hat off and creased the brim before returning it to his head. “I thought you would have spoken to her about that last night. Obviously, you had other things on your mind.”

  “I wasn’t the only one.”

  Trapper raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning after dinner I went up to her place to talk, but talking wasn’t her first priority.”

  A slow smile crossed Trapper’s face. “Oh really? Wow, little Claire’s finally decided to take what she wants, huh? Who knew? What’s that make you? Her boy toy?”

  Jack had just about enough and set down his beer with a little more force than necessary, and stood.

  Trapper held up his hands to ward off an attack. “I feel your pain, man. Been there, done that, got the empty box of condoms and cold bed to prove it.” He shrugged. “Independent women don’t play by the same rules, do they?”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “More than I’d like to, that’s for damn sure.” Trapper stared into his beer and then drained it.

  Jack didn’t know what Trapper’s problem was, but he damn well hoped he wasn’t wearing the same look of hopelessness he’d caught glimpses of when Trapper stared into his beer.

  Trapper looked as if he shook himself out of a funk and pulled up a chair. “I had the accountants put in some overtime. They e-mailed me the facts and figures you wanted, so I printed them out for you.”