The Obsession(43)
“Stick around.” Xander sent her a lazy look. “Make a requestsomething on your playlist. Come on, play stump the band.”
She considered. “‘Hard to Explain.’” A choice, maybe because it had played in her ear right after he’d walked out of her bedroom the other day.
He grinned, pointed a finger at her, then walked off.
“I don’t know that one,” Jenny commented. “But I bet Xander does.”
He sent over another roundwater for Naomi.
And she didn’t stump the band, who played the Strokes’ old classic as if they’d rehearsed it that morning. She stayed for most of the second set, then realized if she didn’t slip out, she’d end up staying until they closed.
“I’ve really got to go. Thanks for the drinkand for talking me into coming out.”
“Anytime. See you Monday.”
“I’m going to come by soon,” Jenny told her. “If you’re busy, Kevin will show me around.”
She left with a slow, simmering cover of Clapton’s “Layla” following her into the night.
She decided the sex dream with Xander with throbbing bass and mad guitar riffs while the house burned around them was inevitable.
Maybe it left her a little edgy, but she had plenty to do to work off the beginnings of sexual frustration. She wasn’t ready to be sexually frustrated, and far from ready to take care of it.
A weekend of quiet, of work, of sun and soft evening rain polished the edges away. As promised, she took morning coffee out on the deckshe would buy a better coffeemakerand soaked in the silence and solitude.
When she FaceTimed New York on Sunday, her mood was high and light.
“There she is!” Seth, sporting the trim goatee he’d decided he’d needed on his forty-fifth birthday, beamed through her iPad screen.
“Hi, handsome.”
“You talking to me?” Harry moved into view, draping an arm over Seth’s shoulders. The rings they’d exchanged in Boston in the summer of 2004 glinted on their hands.
“Two scoops of handsome.”
“Make it three. Guess who’s here for Sunday dinner?”
Mason slid on-screen just behind them and grinned at her.
“Why, it’s Doctor Agent Carson.”
Just look at him, she thought, so tall andyes, three scoops of handsome now. And best, happy. He was on his way to doing and being just what he’d set out to do and be. “How’s the FBI?”
“That’s classified.”
“He just got back from upstate,” Seth told her. “He helped on a kidnapping, helped bring a twelve-year-old girl back home safe.”
“It’s a living. What’s going on with that crazy house you bought?”
“Crazy? Take a look.” She panned the tablet, slowly circling the kitchen. “Who’s crazy?”
“Naomi, it’s beautiful. Look at that range hood, Seth! You went with the Wolf.”
“I listen.”
“Forget the range hood,” Seth said. “The cabinets are fabulous. Why are they empty? Harry, we need to send her some dishes.”
“No, no, I’ve got a line on that. I’ll send you the link to what I’m looking at. I’m taking you upstairs. I want you to check out the master bedroom wallswhich I painted myself.”
“You?” Mason snorted.
“Every inch of them. I may never pick up a paint roller again in my life, but I did every inch of this room.”
“And how many rooms in that place again?”
“Shut up, Mason. Now be honestdoes the color work?”
Upstairs she did another slow pan.
“Pretty and restful,” Seth declared. “Now why don’t you have an actual bed?”
“It’s on the list.” The really long list. “Really, I just finished the paint, and I finally set up a temporary mat room. I have a ton of stuff I’ve been processing and printing.”
“You work too hard, too much,” Seth objected.
“You worry too hard, too much. I went out with friends Friday night, had a drink, listened to a local band.”
“Seeing anyone?” Harry prompted, and behind him Mason rolled his eyesmouthed, Better you than me.
“I see lots of people. The crew’s here eight hours a day, five days a week.”
“Any good-looking, single men in that crew?”
“Are you looking for one?”
Harry laughed. “Got all I can handle.”
“Me, too, right now. I want to hear how you’re all doing. How’s the restaurant? What’s for Sunday dinner? Is Mrs. Koblowki next door still entertaining gentlemen callers?”
She didn’t distract themshe knew betterbut they let it go, and for the next fifteen minutes they talked about easy things, funny things, homey things.