Maid for Martin Page 6

  Joe nodded, opened the box as Mike sat down, and pulled out a slice of pizza. “I don’t suppose you’re married, since you’re staying here. Will you be working from now until the party?”

  “Ignore my friend and his nosey questions.” Mike took out a piece of pizza, laid it on a paper towel, and opened his can of root beer. “Joe knows no strangers, and he has no tact.”

  “I don’t mind.” Randi reached in and took out a slice. “I’m not dating anyone at the moment, so no husbands or boyfriends to get angry when I don’t show up at home.”

  “It’s still rude, even if you don’t mind the questions,” Mike said.

  “How is that rude? She can ask me if I’m married if she wants to.” Joe flashed a smile. This comment won Joe a dirty look from Mike, but Randi tried to ignore it, and the strange way the two men were acting.

  She took a bite of her pizza, wiped her mouth and glanced up as the two men sat across from each other, seeming to be having their own conversation with raised brows and dirty looks. She didn’t understand any of it, but they were both gorgeous, and she was hungry. So why not join them in a friendly exchange of information?

  With a little digging she might figure out what was going on between Mike and Celia. At the least it would be fun chatting up these two guys. She took another bite, wiped her mouth with her napkin, picked up her drink and looked at Mike’s friend. “So, Joe, are you married?”

  Randi listened as Joe talked. It was easy to see he was flirting with her, and easier to see that Mike didn’t like it one bit. At one point Randi was pretty sure that Mike kicked his friend under the table. It didn’t slow him down and he gave her a gorgeous smile as he spoke.

  “What about you, Randi? Do you get out much?”

  “I haven’t dated anyone seriously in a while,” Randi said, “Matter of fact, the other day when Mike picked me up in his beat up old Ford we had lunch. I don’t suppose you could call it a date, but I did pay for his meal.”

  “I see,” Joe said and both men grew quiet. Again there was a kick under the table. Randi wasn’t sure. Maybe Joe kicked Mike this time. She looked up as Joe spoke.

  “You made her pay for her own meal, and yours?”

  Mike straightened in his seat and he sounded angry as he answered. “She all but forced me to take her out.” The tone he used showed he was half-kidding, half-serious.

  “I find it hard to believe a woman forced you to do anything.”

  Mike’s brow furrowed. “If you mean she twisted my arm, no. But she was persistent.”

  “So you did take her out?” Joe retorted.

  “No. We shared lunch in my truck. It wasn’t a date.”

  Randi didn’t like what she was hearing. She wanted to leave. Why were they all but arguing over whether Mike and she had a date or not? She couldn’t force herself to stand, though a part of her wanted to. She looked up as Joe went on, sounding like he was trying to make a point.

  “It sounds like a date to me.”

  “Well it wasn’t,” Mike added with a look on his face that spoke volumes. They were talking code again, and their body language and actions told Randi, more than she wanted to know. Joe must have known that Mike was dating Celia, or someone, and he was trying to make a point that Mike didn’t need to be dating someone else on the side.

  Randi blushed, and she hated that her voice shook when she spoke. “He’s right, it wasn’t a date, and I was kind of pushy.”

  Randi wanted to storm from the room, but something held her to her seat. Pride maybe, or the fact that she wanted answers.

  Mike, until this moment, seemed to want the whole discussion to end, but that was changing. He turned to face her, all but ignoring the fact that they were not alone.

  Randi looked at Mike, pushing the thoughts of Joe and the discussion they’d just had out of her mind. Mike was working up his nerve to say something. If she rose and left now, she knew down deep she would regret it. If there was something he could say that would ease the pain of losing something she’d never had, she wanted to hear it.

  Chapter 12

  What A Mess

  Martin didn’t like this at all. Instead of making things better, they were worse. The look of dejection on that pretty face was hard to endure.

  What is it with this girl? What kind of hold did she have over him? He just didn’t want to lose this normal connection. If, and when, she found out who he really was, what they had would be lost.

  He knew he should give her some answers, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell her the whole truth. Martin had been attracted to Randi from the moment he saw her standing on the corner, and the moment she touched him, he felt something electric.

  He’d fought these feelings hard. He’d tried not to think about her. It just wasn’t fair to Celia, Randi, or himself, to get involved when he didn’t know what he wanted.

  Now as she looked at him, he knew he had to tell her something. Give her an idea why he was so secretive and why he sounded as if there was no way he would date her. He’d hurt her feelings and that hadn’t been his intention. He should have been truthful that first day, but it was too late to worry about that now.

  Instead of looking away or bolting from the table Randi sat there waiting. It was if she could sense he wanted to say something, and he did. Martin scooted to the edge of his chair and rested his hands on the table before him. He drew from his acting skills to help him pull this off.

  He rubbed his hands together as if they were cold, thinking, forming what he wanted to say. Finally, he looked up and gathered up the strength to at least be partly honest. “That didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. If I wasn’t in a relationship I would ask you out,” he laughed. “I would have already asked you out.”

  “That’s nice to hear.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “No need to apologize.”

  “Well I am.”

  Finally her lips started to curl into a smile. Martin wanted to reach out and take her hand. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close. What am I thinking? Had a few nights without Celia done this to him or was it something else, something he didn’t even want to admit?

  As he sat there letting his eyes roam over Randi’s features, he knew this had nothing to do with Celia, and in ways that spoke volumes. If he was in love with Celia, desire might come his way now and then, but it wouldn’t cause him to want to leave a woman that he was deeply in love with.

  No, if he’d been where he should have been with Celia, Randi’s beauty would have been just that, a beauty that caught his attention. The words of his mother came crashing into his mind. If you’re not willing to wait until you’re married to take a woman to your bed, then you just don’t respect yourself, or her, the way you should.

  His mother would tell him the thing that was wrong with his relationship with Celia was that they had jumped the gun. They had moved in together because they were attracted to each other, not because there was something between them worth cultivating. Maybe she’d been right.

  He thought his mother was being old-fashioned when she gave him her little speech, but now as he sat looking at Randi he could see what she was trying to say. He liked Randi, and though they were not to the point of even thinking about kissing, he could see the damage that had been done by sleeping with Celia and other women.

  He looked at his hands, wanting to shake the images out of his mind. Even if Randi didn’t become important to him, some day he would look into the eyes of his future wife and have to live with the fact that she would not be his first.

  When she spoke it brought him out of his thoughts. “Apology accepted. I didn’t mean to imply . . . I was pretty sure you weren’t available.”

  Randi looked at Mike, then at Joe. They’d all become quiet. Mike started to pull his hands back but Randi reached out. She ran her finger across the back of his bandage. “You should change that soon. Add some cream, and be sure it’s clean.”

  “I will.�
�� Mike turned his hand over and for a second she rested her hand on his, but then came to her senses and pulled her hand back. Randi rose from the table. She gave them a smile, pushed her chair under the table, and thanked them for supper.

  Martin followed her out of the room with his gaze. The moment they heard the click of a bedroom door closing, Mike spoke.

  “What in the world is going on here?”

  “I’m working out a mess I got myself into.” Martin straightened and moved his chair back into place. He looked down at his second slice of pizza.

  “What kind of mess? Why doesn’t she know who you are?” Mike also reached for a slice of pizza. “She’s not going to be happy when she finds out you’re—”

  “I know.” Martin interrupted and took a drink of his root beer before going on. “I didn’t plan on things getting this far. When I went to pick her up that day, in the old truck, and she thought I was just the limo driver, it was fun. It made me feel normal, and as you see I’ve not been able to figure out a way to tell her the truth.”

  “You mean you don’t want her to know. It’s not all that hard. You just come out and say it. You sit her down in a chair and look her in the eye and say, 'I’m Martin Taylor'.”

  Martin let out a deep sigh and shrugged. “You don’t know what it’s like. Every time you date someone or meet someone, you can’t help but wonder if they care about you. Do they just want to be around you because of your money, or what they can get?”

  Mike started to take a drink, set the can down and shook his head. “Don’t try and make me feel sorry for you. You lied to that girl. Don’t try and pretty it up. You may be enjoying this now, but when the truth comes out it won’t help any. If you think she’ll want to have anything to do with you when she learns the truth, well, think again.”

  Chapter 13

  Dreams

  Randi sat up in bed, feeling as if she’d just run through a field of trees. The pizza, the weird scene with Mike, or just the stress of this job -- something had given her this strange dream. She’d been running from Celia, the lady of the house, but she didn’t know why.

  Most of the times dreams could be scary, but this one wasn’t. She was walking along, and then she heard Celia calling. She didn’t know what it was all about, but she’d started running, and she’d fallen, and that’s when she woke.

  She put her feet on the floor and looked at her roommate. Ann was still sleeping. At least she’d not screamed or woke anyone. Creeping out of the bed, she slipped into her house shoes. She’d not been out of her room since the weird encounter with Mike and she was hungry.

  Maybe she could make another run to the fridge for some pudding, or pizza if there was any left. She knew that pizza at midnight wasn’t a wise move, just like thinking about kissing a man that was in a relationship already wasn’t a wise move. But that hadn’t stopped the thought from crossing her mind.

  She once again was walking through the house in the wee hours in her Tweety Bird gown and pink slippers. Did she really want to run into Mike again? She didn’t want to admit the answer out loud. The way he’d looked at her earlier and the thoughts of his touch -- it was like riding a roller coaster when you dropped down the other side, except it was better.

  Why were all the men she wanted taken? Her mind drifted to Joe, the friend, but he just wasn’t what she wanted. Shame on Celia. She has Martin Taylor plus the handsome limo driver. She paused as she reached for the light switch. Maybe Mike was the cause of her dream. Maybe Celia was going to get jealous of her over something.

  She dismissed the thought and turned on the light. The kitchen was empty and she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Moving to the fridge, she stood looking inside. What did she want, pudding or pizza? They both sounded good.

  The pudding would suffice, and be filling, but the pizza would be better. “What should I have, dinner or desert?”

  “Why not have both?”

  Randi closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. Though she’d only known him a few days, she would know that voice in an ice storm on a tin roof. Well, not really, but she did recognize it now. Instead of choosing, she closed the door and turned. Her brow shot up instantly. Wow! Was the only thing she could think.

  It looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. He had on jeans, a white muscle shirt, no shoes and a towel around his neck. He’d shaved just a bit of his scruffy-looking beard. It made it appear darker around the edges, but he still looked good. Very good.

  She remembered she hadn’t said anything, but was just staring. That was rude, and a bit obvious, so she stepped back, “Were you going to get something to eat too?”

  “Yeah, why don’t you get the pizza out and we’ll split it?”

  “I can do that.” Randi did as he said, taking out the box and turning to look at him. “Cold or hot?”

  “It’s a little warm. I just took a swim and a shower . . . ” He stopped talking when she turned and gave him a dirty look. “Oh, you meant the pizza. Cold.” He gave a sly smile that let her know he knew exactly what she meant.

  She set the pizza on the table. Mike moved dangerously close as he reached into the fridge, pulling out two colas. She inhaled the fresh, clean, man-smell as he moved around her, and then they both pulled out a chair and sat across from each other.

  The table in the kitchen might seat six but there were only four chairs. It was a small table and she could easily reach across and take his hand, but she didn’t.

  Randi handed Mike a paper towel and he opened the box of pizza. Several slices remained. As she moved her gaze from the box, to the wife beater shirt, to the beard, to those blue eyes, she smiled.

  “You guys didn’t eat much.”

  “I kind of lost my appetite. I didn’t mean to sound—”

  “Let's just leave it there.” Randi looked away and took a slice of pizza out of the box.

  “Are you sure? I can apologize again.” He flashed a handsome smile and she nodded.

  “I’m sure you could, and I would accept, but it’s not necessary.” She grew quiet, looked down, waited a moment, and then looked back up. “I do have a question. You might not want to answer it.”

  He took a bite of his pizza and shrugged. “I can try.”

  Randi wasn’t sure she’d be able to ask, but she wanted to know. He’d hinted earlier that he wasn’t free to ask her out, so maybe he’d finally give her the answer she didn’t want to hear. She ate her bite of pizza, took a long drink, and as she set the cola down, looked into those blue eyes again. “Are you dating the lady of the house?”

  Mike didn’t glance away this time. He just nodded. “Yes.”

  “You’re a brave man. Here they warn me up and down to stay away from Martin because Celia is jealous and you’re . . . uh . . . dating her? Does that mean he’s fair game?”

  Mike shrugged. “Well, it should be,” she continued. "Wouldn’t it help you if he was busy chasing after someone else?”

  “It might.” Mike paused, took a drink, and then went on, “If I was going to be dating her in the future.”

  Randi stopped and would have choked had she been about to swallow. The look on the man's face wasn’t the look of a man interested in Celia. It was the look of a man interested in her. She set the can down and wasn’t sure what to say. “Are you having problems, other than the fact you’re dating a woman that’s cheating on her lover?”

  “You don’t pull any punches.” He didn’t like her comment and seemed annoyed. There was no use in not laying her cards on the table, so she did.

  “I’m just seeing or hearing something in your tone, and from the way you just looked at me. I have to wonder if I’m next in line, after Celia.” The look didn’t change and it was hard to concentrate with that smile on his lips, so she looked away. “I just want you to know I will not be dating someone who is dating someone else.”

  “Point taken.”

  Randi found some momentum and went on. “To be honest, I’m not thrilled with the idea of
dating someone whom most would consider a cheater.” Still no change, and he said the same thing.

  “Point taken.” The smile stayed there as he raised his drink to his lips. She caught him before he took a drink.

  “Are you drunk?”

  Mike laughed, setting the can down, “No, what makes you ask?”

  “I’m all but insulting you and you’re just smiling.”

  “I have a thick skin, and I don’t have an issue with your opinion. To be honest, and this may not make perfect sense, but I agree. A person who cheats, or is in a similar situation, might not be worthy of your trust.”

  They became quiet as they went on eating, stealing glances at each other. She hoped he had more to say, but was giving him the time to work out his approach, if he indeed had one.

  They both ate a slice of pizza and she guessed he was going to just let things remain as they were, not really finishing his thought. He asked her if she liked her job, was she staying until Christmas, and after she closed the box, he rose and placed it back in the fridge. She got up, washed her hands, and when she turned he was close, standing right in front of her.

  In his hands he held out a spoon and a cup of pudding. Being this close to this gorgeous man was intimidating to say the least. She couldn’t step back. The sink was behind her. He was close enough that if she leaned in a few inches, she could kiss him, and of course the idea sounded appealing.

  Instead, she reached out. He placed the pudding and spoon in the palm of her hand, then wrapped his two hands around hers. She looked up into his eyes and for a second she thought she was going to get that kiss.

  “I know this looks bad, and you’re going to get really frustrated with me before this is all over, but will you do one thing?”

  “What?” Randi managed with a whisper.

  Mike leaned in just an inch and for a second she noticed his gaze drop to her lips, and then back to her eyes. She wasn’t the only one thinking about a kiss. That was obvious, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead he spoke, his tone low but serious.