After lunch they went back to the real estate office. When they went in, Macklin could feel the tension. They were alone together in a private place. Marcy turned and looked at him. He was silent, looking back at her. He knew it would happen. He could feel it spread through him.
"What game are we playing now?" Marcy said.
"I'm not sure," Macklin said.
"But I'm enjoying the hell out of it. You want to go someplace?"
Marcy walked over to the front door and turned the lock. Then she went to the little picture window and closed the Venetian blinds.
"No need to go someplace," Marcy said and sat down on the couch, patting the cushion beside her.
"No need at all," Macklin said.
It had been a smart move to leave his gun in the car. He sat beside her.
"You knew when you came in here, didn't you?" Marcy said.
"Uh-huh."
"How?"
"Something about you," Macklin said, "I can always tell."
"Me too," Marcy said.
"With men, it's easy," Macklin said.
"Good point."
Naked beneath him on the couch, Marcy thought how much stronger he was than he looked with his clothes on. Like Jesse was.
Above her, Macklin thought that she wasn't better than Faye, but she was nearly as good. Like Faye, she moved a lot and was noisy.
Nothing beats enthusiasm in a woman, Macklin thought. He loved Faye. But this hadn't anything to do with Faye. It didn't mean anything to him, and he knew it didn't mean anything to Marcy. She was like him. She liked a good time. And then he let himself go and didn't think about much of anything for a little while.
THIRTY.
It was nearly 7:30 and the sun was down when they settled in at the bar in the Gray Gull.
"I'd like a martini," Jenn said.
"Up, extra olives."
"You got it," Doc said.
"Jesse?"
"Black label and soda," Jesse said.
"Tall."
Doc put the drinks in front of them and put out a hand to Jenn.
"I'm Doc," he said.
"Oops," Jesse said.
"Sorry, this is my, this is Jenn."
"Hi, Doc."
"Hello, Jenn."
It was almost fall, and the summer crowd had mostly left. There were several empty tables and four or five stools available at the bar.
By 9:00, the place was nearly full. Jesse was trying to nurse his scotch.
"Do you have to get up early?" Jenn said.
"I should be at the station by nine," Jesse said.
"But I always get up early. Seven is sleeping in for me."
"Why do you get up so early?" Jenn said.
"You didn't used to."
"Don't sleep well," Jesse said.
"Well, I think we should go," Jenn said.
"Okay."
Jesse paid the bar bill, left twenty percent for Doc, and walked out behind Jenn. Several people recognized her and stared covertly.
In the car, Jenn said, "It's a long ride back to Boston, Jesse. I think I should stay with you."
"Okay," Jesse said.
What did "with" mean? He stifled the question. Let it play out, he thought.
His condominium was only five minutes from the Gray Gull.
Inside, Jenn went straight to the living room and opened the French doors onto the little deck over the water.
"I love this view," she said.
Jesse went and stood beside her on the deck. House lights were scattered brightly against the solid blackness of Paradise Neck. The salt sea smell of the harbor was strong.
"Funny how different this ocean seems," Jenn said.
"Maybe we're different," Jesse said.
"That would be nice."
Jesse felt compressed by the tension between them. He wondered if Jenn even felt it. She seemed perfectly in possession of herself. They were quiet. Jesse stood next to her, not touching her.
Except for the sound of the ocean moving below them, the silence was crystalline. Maybe I cant stand this, Jesse thought. Maybe I need a drink. To his left, the head of the harbor was darkened by Stiles Island where barely any lights showed. Everything faces the ocean, Jesse thought. Got their back to the town. He didn't look at Jenn, though he felt her next to him the way he felt the pull of gravity.
"Jesse," she said.
He turned. She had turned toward him. Her face was raised to him. Subtly, beneath the heavy ocean smell, he could smell her perfume. He opened his arms, and she pressed against him. He kissed her. She opened her mouth and kissed him back. He was conscious of his breath surging in his lungs, of the blood moving through the intricate riparian patterns of his arteries and veins, the electricity tracing his nerves and muscles. They began to fumble at each other's clothes. Jenn broke away long enough to gasp, "Living room." She pressed her mouth against his again as they stumbled into the living room. They went to the carpet and made love there.
It was all visceral. Whatever sounds they made were inarticulate. In the darkness, hours after they had begun, they paused long enough to go into Jesse's bedroom.
Jesse woke up in bright sunshine. He was lying on his back.
Jenn was beside him, still asleep, in the crook of his arm, with her head on his chest. He looked at his wrist. His watch wasn't there.
He looked over at the alarm clock on the bureau. It was 10:40. He had not slept much past dawn since he'd come east. Actually, as he thought about it, he had not slept past dawn since Jenn started fucking Elliot whatsisname. Maybe he should have killed Elliott.