A/N: 2012 winner of NaNoWriMo contest and exclusively Beta'd by the wonderful ladygris. Thanks for my b-day gift and the gift of your friendship.

Gracias,

~Sandy

Avengers

Time after Time

Chapter 21

Clint slammed on the brakes, the truck skidding toward the curb in front of the corner gas station. When they came to a stop, Naomi had both hands on the dash and Clint was staring at her as if she had gone stark raving nuts. Anything that was loose ended up on the floorboard. "Ex-cuse me?"

Saying it slower this time so he would understand, she repeated, "Before I was born, she was a porn star. She invested wisely and when she gave up life in front of the camera, she had a nice little nest egg that was put to use buying the production company and building it into a multi-million dollar company that ships internationally to twenty-two different countries."

"Wait!" He turned sideways in his seat, restricted by the seatbelt. "Are you seriously telling me that your mother used to work as a…as a…"

"Porn star. Yes. You should have seen my sixth grade teacher's face when Mother came for career day. Parents protested and Mother took me out of school two days later to home school me until I graduated high school."

Still unable to wrap his head around the fact of Naomi's mother's former and current professions, Clint faced forward, both hands clenched on the wheel. As if in slow motion, he turned back onto the road and started driving again wishing he hadn't asked.

As houses in the Hamptons went, the DeLuca home was not exceptionally large or overly ornate. A long driveway led guests through a painstakingly maintained garden. Others might have been tempted to line the drive with sculpted topiary, but none were to be seen. The design was simple yet tasteful.

The exterior of the Italian Mediterranean style home was elegant in white with a short set of stairs that brought one to a covered vestibule. The windows were arched at the top, sheer curtains covered by heavy drapes could be seen though at the moment they were open to let in the light.

Several vehicles were already parked near the doors forcing Clint and Naomi to walk. The front door opened and a woman came running toward them. The charcoal gray skirt was belted and resting low on her hips, the hem brushing her ankles. A black sweater with a lighter gray blouse underneath topped it off. The shoes on her feet were Italian with low heels. She wore only one ring on her right hand, a watch on her left wrist and was joined by a short necklace and short dangle earrings, all in platinum embedded with sapphires.

Though he had little experience with jewelry, even he could tell the gems were the real thing. He leaned close to Naomi and whispered, "This is where you grew up?"

"We moved here when I was eight, so yes." Something of what he was feeling had to have shown in his face because she touched his arm. "What's wrong?"

"When you said your family was well off, I didn't expect this."

Naomi brushed imaginary lint from the front of his jacket, gave his face a critical onceover then turned as the running footsteps came to a stop, her smile growing to span her entire face. "Mother!"

"Welcome home!" The older woman drew Naomi into a hug and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm so glad to see you, sweetheart."

"You too, Mother."

Clint stood off to the side not wanting to intrude on their greeting. He looked at the grass, trees, birds, anything but the women. That is until he felt he was being watched. "Wanna introduce me to your friend?"

"Mother, I'd like you to meet Clint Coulson. Clint, my mother, Gina DeLuca."

Clint nodded a greeting with the handshake. "Ms. DeLuca."

Gina clasped his proffered hand in both of hers looking him up and down with brazen interest. "Oh, please call me Gina. Naomi, dear, you know very well that auditions are by appointment and only at the studio, though I am willing to make an exception…just this once."

Clint choked and tugged at his collar.

"Mother! Clint is my date." Naomi protested on his behalf, clasping his hand and pulling him along as Gina started for the house.

The older woman gave him the once over again then went back for seconds and thirds. "Too bad you aren't in the market for a job, honey. With your assets, you could've been set for life."

Bewildered by the statement, Clint could only smile uneasily. He kept walking, the women dropping back. They were probably talking about him, so he walked a little faster to give them privacy.

~~O~~

Lowering her voice, Naomi said, "It's Thanksgiving, Mother. I asked you not to talk about work."

"Sorry, darling, but the company is what's paying for your education." She once again ogled Clint's backside. "Besides, we are always looking for new talent. So what does he do?"

Naomi hesitated before giving her mother the cover story, as Clint had called it. "He's a cop taking a sabbatical to attend college."

"Oh, even better. I'm getting ideas already. He could be a country sheriff out on a lonely stretch of road in the middle of the night when a beautiful blond in a Rolls passes him doing ninety. He pulls her over and…"

"Mother! Please!"

Gina fluttered her hands in surrender. "Fine! No shop talk." She hurried to catch up with Clint, taking his elbow and leaning against his side. "So Clint, how long have you been sleeping with my daughter?"

All Naomi could do was shake her head and hope Clint was not put off by her mother's boldness.

Clint glanced over his shoulder at her with a question. "Three…" making a stretching motion, she silently asked him to lie about how long they had been together, "…months."

"Well, I'm so happy that you could join us for the holiday. Just out of curiosity why aren't you with your family?"

Inhaling sharply, Naomi realized that she had forgotten to tell her mother not to bring up Clint's family then stopped that thought. Today was a day to spend with family and the fact that he was here and not elsewhere should have spoken for itself.

"Don't have a family, ma'am."

"Gina, please. 'Ma'am' is for your grandmother and the president of the United States, as soon as this great nation gets its head out of its…"

"Naomi, darling! Is that you?"

Turning at the sound of a familiar voice, Naomi saw her mother's friend Jared Fox striding quickly up the drive. He and his partner lived next door so he frequently walked over. He swept her into a long squishy hug. "Jared!"

"What have you been doing, girl? You are glowing!"

"Uh…"

Gina presented her cheek for a kiss. "She's been doing this package of incredible hotness. Clint, this is our very good friend and neighbor, Jared Fox."

Jared's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Clint as Naomi went to his side. "Girl! He is fabulous!"

She gave his elbow a squeeze of apology for his abrupt introduction to the other part of her life. Knowing he didn't care for overt displays of affection in public, she had expected some discomfort at the gesture. Instead, he placed his hand over hers, returning her smile with an lopsided grin. "I'm the lucky one." He extended his free hand. "Clint Coulson. Nice to meet you, Jared."

"My pleasure." His smile and the way he looked Clint up and down said he liked what he saw. Clint chuckled and mentally shook his head.

But Jared wasn't done. He walked around Clint, this time with the critical eye of a designer. "I love this whole bad boy thing you have going on. The hair, the goatee, leather jacket, faded jeans and scuffed boots look is so you."

"Jared, it's not a 'look'. This is how he always dresses. He's a cop, not a district attorney."

"Oh, I like it, darling. Don't get me wrong. It's so…je ne sais quoi." Naomi's fingers dug into his bicep in warning and he wisely didn't respond to Jared's poor attempt at speaking French.

"Let's go in before we freeze." Gina rubbed her hands together, smiling up at Jared when he wrapped a long arm around her shoulders and she settled an arm around his waist. "Where's Mason?"

Sighing as if the world had landed on his shoulders, Jared feigned disappointment. "His mother is still upset with me because I told her best friend that a fuchsia mini was a fashion no-no. Especially since she did not have the legs for it. When you're a size sixteen, you shouldn't be dressing as if you were a size six."

~~O~~

Jared Fox stood six feet two with a lean build, blue eyes and a full head of hair that was still blond in spite of his age which Clint estimated at late forties to very early fifties. "What do you do, Jared?"

"I am the owner and CEO of Fabrizia Clothing Designs. I also do some of the actual designing, just to keep my skills sharp."

In the entry hall, Clint tried not to stare at the stylish furnishings, most of which were antiques or near enough not to matter. Apparently Gina reveled in having money, but did not feel that her possessions defined her. She obviously chose pieces that she enjoyed and had managed to make it all fit together in a way that worked quite well. It was all just a little overwhelming for a guy who grew up sleeping in a tent next to a tiger cage, the smell of sawdust, manure and cotton candy a constant presence. He hadn't known what "fresh air" smelled like until he'd left the Coney Island Circus.

A long staircase curved around and up to the second floor. If it had been made of Italian marble, the effect would have been showy and overdone, but the chocolate brown runner to offset the lighter brown wood made it look homey, cozy. Clint had heard a home like this called a "starter" mansion.

Paintings hung on the walls. Local artists, if Clint had read her right. He also knew that the places she would splurge would be bedrooms and the kitchen. Being Italian, she was probably an amazing cook, though that was a stereotype. But he had faith in is ability to read people and knew he was right.

"Naomi, dear. I've given you and your man the big bedroom in the back. It's just been remodeled."

"But we hadn't planned on staying the night. I have work to catch up on and Clint…"

Gina stopped her daughter's excuses by starting the climb up the stairs. "Nonsense. It's a long drive and I know you're both tired. Go take a nap and Francine will wake you an hour or so before dinner."

Clint exchanged an I-told-you-so glance with Naomi. Before setting out on their road trip, they'd had a disagreement about whether or not to stay over. He had no experience with holiday dinners and thought it would be expected for a family event that they would stay at least a night or two.

Naomi disagreed saying that she could only take so much of her mother in one sitting. In the end, they had compromised. They would bring overnight bags with enough clothes for three days, not taking them in unless they were invited to stay. Naomi hadn't liked that option any more than the first, but didn't fight his reasoning.

With a grand gesture, Gina opened the double doors at the end of the upstairs hall. Clint couldn't help the awe filled exclamation as he stepped into the room. "Wow."

The parquet floors shone as if just polished. The warm sepia brown of the wood contrasted with the darker color of the wardrobe, nightstands, dresser and vanity. A sitting area was formed by matching sofa and armchair in cream shot with bronze threads running through the material. Several pillows were scattered randomly over the sofa and chair. The glass topped coffee table was supported by wrought iron bent inward to give it an interesting shape that matched the bed frame.

A fireplace already set with logs awaited only the touch of a match to the kindling to blaze into life. Clint pictured a thick blanket spread over the floor, a soft place for Naomi and him to make love all night.

A Persian rug in the same colors as the sofa and chair left much of the wood exposed, the variations in shading giving the illusion of haphazardness that does not exist in nature.

The bed held a place of honor in the shorter bend of the L on top of a matching area rug. Bedding made from Egyptian cotton covered the king sized bed, the comforter thick and warm for those cold nights. Peeking out the top, he could see sheets in shades of blue. Not a light blues that would be too bright for the rest of the furnishings, but not so dark as to give a great contrast that would prevent restful sleep.

Not knowing what to say, he simply nodded his approval of the room as if he'd just checked into a luxury hotel. It seemed like it was expected and he didn't want to disappoint.

~~O~~

The look of shock on Clint's face might have been funny if Naomi hadn't known some of his history. Granted she didn't know it all, but he couldn't have seen anything near what he'd seen today. The fact that he had grown up with little and she had grown up with everything she could ever want didn't make her love him any more or any less. She would love him regardless.

His blue-gray eyes took everything in with fascination and her mother waited for his response with wry amusement. Naomi laced her fingers with Clint's to get his attention. He squeezed almost to the point of pain, the only other expression of emotion he allowed then he looked down at her and she smiled.

"I love what you've done with the room, Mother."

"It was designed with you in mind. I've always wanted you to bring a man home with you."

Naomi snorted. "Mother! You act like I've never…"

"That is because you never have, my dear." Gina patted her cheek as she passed, closing the doors as she went. "You should rest after your drive."

The glint in Gina's eyes put Naomi on alert as only a mother could. "What have you done?"

"I've invited a few friends to share Thanksgiving dinner with us so they wouldn't have to spend it alone. Bye."

Clint tossed a glance over his shoulder, released his hold on Naomi's hand so that he could explore. The room was L-shaped and he stuck his head around the corner to check out the bathroom. The door stood ajar, the white tile floor glistening in the light coming from the sitting area that led to a balcony. From what he could see, the ensuite was bigger than his apartment in New York City.

"I'm sorry." Naomi touched him on the arm, her brown eyes telegraphing her apology with the words.

"For?"

"Mother. She has this habit of saying what she's thinking without thinking. And for…" she indicated the room, "…this. She obviously thinks we're living together."

"It's fine." He smiled and took her in his arms, rubbing his cheek on the top of her head. "I like her. She's very…"

"Outspoken?"

"It's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't hide her feelings." He felt her relief where their bodies touched. "I'll go to the truck and get our bags."

She rolled her eyes, at herself it seemed. "You're not going to gloat?"

"No." He pulled her close again and kissed her until they were both breathless. "When I get back, we will talk about that nap your mother suggested." With a wink and an irresistible grin, he left her alone.

~~O~~

"I can do it, Francine," Naomi insisted. However, the housekeeper refused to relinquish the clothing she held in her arms. Clint's shirt and pants had wrinkled on the trip down and the two women were arguing over whose job it was to iron them.

"Tizzie will do it and bring them back in just a few minutes." The water in the shower shut off and Clint came out, a towel slung low on his hips. Francine averted her eyes and scurried out of the room.

Again, his eyes twinkled with suppressed amusement when she faced him, hands on her hips. "Clint Coulson, you did that on purpose."

"How else could I get her to leave us alone?" He used a second towel to dry his hair then twisted it into a rope and looped it around her waist to bring her closer. "She'll survive."

Naomi draped her arms over his shoulders, reaching up to kiss him. It was meant to be just a quick peck of gratitude, but it changed, became filled with need and want for both of them.

Clint raised his head when someone knocked on the door, muttering an oath under his breath that made Naomi laugh. She went to the door, waiting until he had gone into the bathroom before opening it. "What now, Mother?"

"Our guests will be arriving soon. Will you and Clint be down shortly or have you decided to be fashionably late?"

"We'll be on time. Francine is having Clint's clothes ironed."

Gina leaned to the side, craning her neck to see around her and Naomi thwarted her each time frustrating her. "Good. I want the two of you to sit next to me so I can get to know him during dinner."

Naomi's eyes narrowed, suspicion tickling at her brain. "Why?"

"Because a mother wants to get to know the man who is such an important part of her daughter's life."

"We are not engaged, Mother. We're just…together. At least for now." She touched Gina on the hand. "And you'll be the first to know if it changes one way or the other."

"Of course I will." Gina turned, her full skirt swishing around her legs. "See you downstairs."

Before Naomi could close the door, a slender Hispanic girl came up the back staircase with the clothing that had just been taken away. Though only a few minutes had passed, the clothes were now wrinkle free.

"Here you are, Miss."

"Naomi, please. You must be Tizzie."

The dark haired girl smiled shyly, ducking her head. "Yes, Miss Naomi. It's a nickname. Short for Tiziana."

"That is a lovely name. Thank you for taking care of this." Naomi held up the clothes.

"You're welcome." The girl hurried away, her footsteps echoing down the stairs. Going to the bathroom door, Naomi heard Clint humming and blushed when she recognized it as Amazed because of the memories it brought of their first time together. Had that only been a few days ago? And that led her to wonder where they were going. Not that she wanted the relationship to change from what it was at the moment.

While she pondered, she hung Clint's clothes outside the bathroom and carried her dress to the bed. Taking off the robe, she slipped the long sleeved turtleneck sweater dress over her head and pulled it down around her hips. All that was needed were shoes and jewelry. Her diamond and pearl teardrop earrings set into platinum were paired with a long chain pendant, the pearl nestled into the lower loop of an infinity symbol and the top loop speckled with tiny diamonds.

One last check in the mirror to make sure her chignon was still intact, the pearl and diamond comb pushed into the side, and she was ready to go. Now all she needed was Clint to come out of the bathroom, get dressed and they could go down.

Just as that though appeared, so did he, his hair neatly combed, or as neatly as it ever was, in boxers and nothing else. He had carefully trimmed his goatee so that the edges were clean and sharp, not shabby the way some men wore them with the mistaken idea that it made them look ruggedly handsome.

Thinking back, Naomi brought to mind his way of moving, his mannerisms and gestures, how he walked. Precise, even his moments of awkwardness, all due to his life in the circus, no doubt. He had once told her he hadn't missed a target since he was thirteen. The freerunning he'd done in the race with Alston had shown off his tightrope and acrobatic abilities. And to still be alive, one had to be absolutely certain where you were going to place your next step.

"I'll be ready in a few minutes. Go on down, if you want."

"And let you walk into a pit of vipers all by yourself? Not on your life."

~~O~~

Clint saw Naomi standing in front of the mirror and his heart stopped just for a moment. She looked so beautiful putting on her earrings and turning her head side to side making the dangles swing. The matching necklace hung between her breasts. It swayed with her gentle movements drawing his eyes.

Continuing down, the knit material of her black dress skimmed over her curves ending just above her knees. He strolled through his memories of their nights of making love and just spending time together alone with nothing and no one to distract them.

"I won't be long."

While Clint dressed, Naomi walked over to the balcony doors. He could see her reflection in the mirror as he got dressed. In the years since his parents had died, he hadn't celebrated any holidays, but this year was different. This year he did it to honor the people that had made Naomi who she was because they were the reason he'd fallen in love with her.

It was sunny but cold, normal for this time of year according to the weather man on a local affiliate. And seeing her standing in a pool of bright sunlight gave her the appearance of being otherworldly, like a Greek goddess.

Naomi turned just as he was tucking in his shirt. He didn't have a tie, so he hoped his black silk dress slacks, shirt and jacket would be acceptable.

"You look great, but you do want to wow Mother's guests, right?"

"I guess." Her slow, semi-shy smile told she wanted him to wow the guests and anything he could do to make that happen, he would do.

"Then we need to let them see just a hint of the bad boy that I know you are."

He'd buttoned the shirt up to his neck leaving just the top one undone. She unbuttoned his shirt, had him remove the T-shirt he wore under it then put the shirt back on, letting her do up the buttons, leaving the top two open. His pants were already undone and he just let her work as she tucked his shirt in then did up the front of his pants. Whether by accident or on purpose, her fingers bumped against him causing a predictable reaction. With a smirk, he said, "You keep doing that and we won't get to dinner on time."

"Mmm. Sounds like fun. But if we don't come down, Mother will either come after us herself or send someone else." She fastened the cuffs and adjusted the collar, brushing her hands down his chest.

Taking her hands in his, he kissed the fingers. "You keep doing that and we won't get to dinner at all."

Laughing, she slapped his arm and turned him to face the mirror again. Considering his reflection, he was startled that the subtle differences she'd made had transformed him into a debonair man about town yet he still retained that bad boy look he knew she loved. "Looks good. Thanks. What about the hair?"

"Hmm." Going into the bathroom, Naomi returned with a comb and a small bottle of hair gel. A few minutes later, he looked again. She had mussed his painstakingly arranged style giving him a windblown appearance, using the gel to keep it in place. "All done. You are now ready to mix and mingle with some of the wealthiest people in Southampton and knock their socks off."

Clint put his jacket on, tugged the cuffs into place then extended his elbow. Naomi clasped her long fingers just below his bicep. "Shall we?"

~~O~~

More nervous that she had been since her first ballet recital, Naomi switched her hold from Clint's elbow to his hand. Coming down the stairs, she felt his anxiety too. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it. "Here's where the fun begins."

Music and laughter could be heard coming from the kitchen and dining area. "How many people did she invite?"

"Don't worry. You'll be great."

"You too. Ready?"

~~O~~

For an answer, Clint opened the door, guided Naomi through with a hand on the small of her back then followed her in. Jared was leaning on the mantel over the fireplace, set with a stack of real wood but not lit, a drink in one hand as he talked to two very attractive women in their forties. The first to see them, the designer paused in mid-sentence. Clint already knew that Jared found him attractive though it didn't bother him. It was what Jared did that had Clint fighting mild embarrassment. Jared started singing. "Bad boys, bad boys. Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?"

TBC

A/N: "Bad Boys" is the title of a song by the reggae band Inner Circle, made popular by the television program COPS, where it is played during the opening title sequence, while an instrumental version is played during the end credits.