The Original Sinners: The Red Years. Tiffany Reisz
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heard of it.”
“It’s the most exciting two minutes in sports.”
“Two minutes?” she scoffed. “I better get a dozen roses and a big apology if all I get is two minutes.”
“It’s a very long two minutes if you have a horse in the race. It’s not just that race, though. The whole thing lasts all day. There are races before and then all the people watching and the women in their crazy hats and everybody’s drunk on mint juleps, which are disgusting if you ask me, but don’t tell anyone I said that.” Wesley looked at her and took a quick little breath. “You should come with me this year.”
Nora raised her chin and studied Wesley. He didn’t quite meet her gaze.
“Did you just ask me out on a date, Wes Railey?”
“Nora, we live together. Asking you on a date would kind of be a step backward.”
“Yes, but we’re roommates. We don’t live together. And don’t you think it’ll be a little hard to keep the erotica-writer-roommate thing a secret if I show up with you wearing a sombrero at the Kentucky Derby?”
Wesley reached down and picked up their shirts off the floor. He pulled his T-shirt on, but Nora was in no hurry to get dressed. She enjoyed watching Wesley trying not to watch her too much.
“I sort of told Dad about you.”
“You’re kidding. Did he freak out?”
“I didn’t go into detail. I just sort of let him think I had a girlfriend so he’d really back me up about not moving home. He was starting to get worried his son was, you know—”
“A stallion not interested in mares?”
Wesley laughed. “Right. He was thrilled.”
“I never figured you for a liar. I’m impressed.”
“I didn’t lie. You’re a girl who’s a friend ergo—”
“Girlfriend. Well, if I’m going to be your girlfriend, this virginity thing has got to go. But after dinner,” she said and finally pulled her blouse back on.
She started to leave the bathroom but Wesley grabbed her hand.
“You didn’t say if you’d go with me or not.”
Nora smiled up at him. She couldn’t believe how serious Wesley was being.
“Yes, Wes. I will go with you to the most exciting two minutes in sports. When is it?”
“First Saturday in May.”
“I’ll book the flight. You get the tickets.”
“I already have the tickets. I go every year. My family would cancel Christmas before they missed the Derby. I only missed last year because of finals. No school in Central Kentucky would ever hold a final on Derby Day.”
“We’re all damned Yankees up here, aren’t we?”
“I like you Yankees. Y’all talk funny.”
Nora twined her fingers in his and studied him. Since getting out of the hospital, he’d seemed older, calmer, more sure of himself. And he also seemed more intent on spending time with her. He read in her office while she wrote. When she moved from her office to the kitchen, he went with her. She liked having him as a shadow. Since getting him back home she’d wished more than a few times that they were lovers so they could sleep in the same bed. As much as he shadowed her by day, she shadowed him at night. Ever since he came home from the hospital, she found herself waking up several times a night to make sure he was okay. She’d half considered getting a baby monitor and hiding it under his bed.
Nora took a step toward him and heard the devil on her shoulder telling her to kiss him, really kiss him for the first time. She tried to hear the angel on her shoulder but she remembered her angel had long ago turned in his letter of resignation. She wrapped an arm around Wesley’s neck and rose on tiptoes.
From the kitchen came the unmistakable sound of her hotline phone blaring its Klaxon ringtone at her. Wesley sighed and rested his chin on top of her head.
“It’s okay,” Nora said and kissed him quick on the cheek. She still had a lot of writing to do for Zach, and it would take a whole team of stallions to drag her away from Wesley tonight. She leaned into Wesley’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Just let it ring.”
12
Four weeks left…
What the hell was he doing?
Zach wondered how many times since meeting Nora he’d asked himself that question. He was getting into double digits at least. He paid his cabdriver and faced Wordsworth’s Bookshelf, the venue for Nora’s book-signing today. He shouldn’t be here. Saturnalia wasn’t even a Royal House title. The previous books didn’t matter, but for some reason Nora was starting to.
Zach entered through the grand double doors and found the signing area at the back of the store. It was a small sort of stage with a table and a chair roped off on three sides. Wesley stood on the platform talking to a man in his fifties with a kind face and absolutely no hair on his head. Zach stepped inside the roped off area. A table sat in front of a wall and was stacked high with copies of Nora’s most recent bestseller. The bald man excused himself to fetch a pitcher of water and a glass.
“Nice tie,” Zach said to Wesley. “Quite natty.”
“Natty—British compliment, right?”
“Right.”
“Nora’s orders. Not really a tie guy.”
“Her orders? Where is our autocrat anyway?”
“Hiding somewhere. Her last book with Libretto came out two months ago. This is her last event for them. She loathes these things.”
“As extroverted as she is, I would have thought signings would be her forte.”
“She’s all bark, Zach.” Wesley’s eyes scanned the crowd that was beginning to form behind the red ropes. “Being around a lot of people bothers her when she’s not in total control of the situation.”
“Control freak, is she?”
Wesley pointed to his chest.
“Note the tie.”
Zach laughed at Wesley’s disgusted, but amused face. It still seemed strange and uncomfortable that Wesley was so devoted to a woman so much older than he. He knew how dangerous romantic hero-worship could be.
“Looks like it’s about to start,” Zach said as the bald man put the pitcher and glass on the signing table. Zach counted about forty or fifty people already in the queue and more joining by the minute. “Should I go fetch our elusive author?”
“Would you mind? I want to stay here and keep an eye on things.”
Zach noticed Wesley paying close attention to the people waiting for Nora. Wesley’s eyes studied every man in line. There were more men than Zach would have expected. Erotica was usually marketed as a subgenre of romance and yet there were at least a half a dozen adult men and a few teenage boys in the line holding shiny new copies of Nora’s latest release.
“Worried about the fans?” Zach asked.
“You would be, too, if you had to open the fan mail.”
“Point taken. I’ll go find Nora. Any suggestions?”
Wesley met the eyes of one young man in the crowd. Zach noted nothing particularly menacing about him although he did seem nervous and impatient and was casting envious glances at him and Wesley standing inside the ropes. He wore an army-green jacket and heavy combat boots. Not the typical romance fan.