by Inez Kelley
“Chase. Tug the rope. Frisbee.” His voice was soft, far away as if lost in memory. He sniffed and focused on the faraway mountaintop. “We should head back soon if we’re going to make Garrett’s party in time.”
“In a minute.” The tableau in her mind was so vivid she couldn’t bear to leave the grave unadorned. She cleared away the damp clumps of leaves and pulled some weeds from around the wood base. Gathering handfuls of purple and white wildflowers, she tucked them below the name. “Rest in peace, Reeses.”
Matt waited beside the four-wheeler, his jaw stern. Her head angled, soaking in his tightly bound control. She really liked him but Matt had some strange quirks. He’d go silent and still occasionally. It was as if he closed something inside him away. It hurt that as close as they were growing, he pulled away from her rather than share.
“You probably thought that was silly.” She put her hand on his cheek.
His eyes closed as the cords in his neck jumped with a swallow. “No...it was nice.”
Looping her arms around his shoulders, she shrugged. “I just can’t imagine losing a pet.”
“You never had any? Not even a goldfish?”
“I wanted one but...”
He tipped her chin up with his knuckle. “So get one now.”
“With deliveries and everything, I don’t have the time a dog needs.”
“So get a cat. They’re pretty self-sufficient.”
“Did you have a dog or cat growing up?”
A twitch jerked his jaw. He looked over her shoulder, toward the faded wood carrying a single name. “There were always stray cats around. Abby’d sneak them scraps until Dad put his foot down and then she’d cry and he’d cave. I think at one time there were like eight cats crawling all over the place.”
Possibility stole her breath but she tempered it. “Pets are expensive, right?”
“Not too bad, really. We’d better pack up.”
She tucked their garbage into the backpack with the plastic containers as Matt tossed the scraps into the woods. Some animal was going to get a treat of dried apricots, granola and bread pieces. She carried the pack to the four-wheeler where he slipped it out of her hands. The calluses on his hands scraped against her shirt as he circled her waist, tugging her close.
His lips were sun-warmed and soft against hers. He licked along the seam of her mouth then slid inside. The sun made his hair hot, like heated silk that slipped between her fingers. The provocative slide of tongue on tongue in an unhurried dance intoxicated her, filling her senses with mountain air, warm man and growing promise.
The kiss deepened, his tongue diving into her mouth. A whimper worked from her throat, and her nipples tightened. Her body took over, blanking her mind of everything but the feel of him, the taste of him, exploding through her system. She rotated her hips, rubbing along his jeans until an erection firmed and pushed at his zipper.
Huge hands cupped her butt, pulling her into the vee of his legs as his mouth skated down her neck. The autumn breeze blew across her chest as he unbuttoned her blouse. It was so decadent, so foreign to her, being exposed in the open air. She’d been around nude beaches but had never gone. Now she stood with her shirt hanging open in a field of wildflowers, a gorgeous man nibbling along the cups of her bra.
If life were perfect, she’d have been wearing a front-clasp bra. But it wasn’t and hers fastened like normal in the back. Matt was undeterred. His hand slipped up her spine, popped the hooks and nuzzled a loosened cup aside, capturing one nipple between his teeth.
Sexual heat stuttered her breath. The lines of his arms offered such safety, such welcome that she had to force herself away. “Matt, stop. We don’t have time.”
“Why not?”
“Garrett’s party?”
This tongue traced lazy loops around the crest. “Garrett who?”
“Garrett, your nephew. Short guy. Dark hair. Dimples. Thinks he’s Leif Ericson.”
“Never heard of him.” She felt his smile against her breast.
“Okay, I’ll strip. You call Abby and explain why we can’t make it.”
“Oh, that Garrett.” Matt groaned, his shoulders deflating. “An afternoon full of screaming midget Vikings and my sister. So not what I’d prefer to do.”
She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed her mouth to his. “Rain check?”
He pushed her away with an exaggerated sigh and straddled the machine. “Come on, pretty lady, let’s go eat cake and ice cream. Lots of cold, cold ice cream.”
Kayla fixed her clothes and climbed behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist then nuzzled his neck. “I could keep you warm.”
“Kayla,” he warned, adjusting things behind his zipper. “Let’s get this kid thing done so we can have grown-up time.”
“Lots and lots of grown-up time,” she purred. “Naked grown-up time.”
“Amen.” He started the four-wheeler, the engine’s growl bursting into the meadow like a wild animal.
Kayla cast one last look at the solitary grave marker. “Reeses is a cute name. What kind of dog do you think it was?”
Matt gunned the motor so hard she barely heard him. “German shepherd.”
Chapter Five
The Appalachians were once an extension of the Caledonian mountain chain, a chain that today is in Scotland and Scandinavia. The name derives from the Apalachees, a Native American tribe who once inhabited the region.
Garrett ran around the yard wearing his horned hat and carrying a plastic sword. A dozen kids trailed after him, each with sword or cardboard shield. Matt motioned toward the Viking invasion with his beer. “Abby, you need to tell the kid we’re Scotch-Irish, not Norse.”
“When you spawn little berserkers, you can give me parenting advice. Until then, just take the trash out.”
“Bossy witch,” he muttered loud enough for her to hear, knowing it would earn him a smack on the arm. Still, it made Kayla laugh, which made her eyes sparkle. It was worth the minor sting. The smoldering look she sent him lasted while he hefted the overflowing garbage bag out of the can and took it to the garage.
His uncle duty was complete. He’d grilled the burgers, helped them roast marshmallows and generally maintained chaos while Abby served the food. Next stop was home and bed. The sun was still brilliant orange but he didn’t have plans to sleep.
A feminine laugh slowed his feet. Kayla and Abby had hit it off and were fast becoming friends. He leaned one shoulder on the kitchen door and watched them. Several women stood around the detritus of cake crumbs, icing smears and plastic forks. A few he knew well enough. One he’d loved all his life. The other...well, he wasn’t ready to go there yet. Still, there was no denying she made his heart beat faster and his mind race.
With a tight smile, Abby handed a roll of plastic wrap to Kayla. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel as she stomped toward him. She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and jerked. “Come with me.”
“What’s up?” Her mouth was a flat line, her lips pinched white as she rounded the patio, still dragging him behind her. “Abby, let go.”
In the crowded driveway, she rounded on him. “You’re a dick.”
“Because I bought your kid a Nerf gun? You—”
“Kayla invited me out to her place.”
Her voice could’ve frozen Jack Frost’s pecker off. The chill chased down his spine and puckered his ass. “You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”
“No. What are you doing, Matty?”
“Nothing.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, forcing his muscles not to clench.
Abby ran a hand through her long dark hair. “I never thought you’d stoop that low. Using her to get her land. That’s just...disgusting.”
The accusation stabbed into his lungs and the swift breath he sucked in
was sour. “Shit, Abby, I’m not that fucking low.”
“Then what the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Exactly. You haven’t told her.”
His throat slammed shut. “So?”
“Newsflash, brother dear. She’s falling in love with you.”
Something warm pounded in his chest. “She is?”
“She deserves the truth.”
“Butt out, Abby.”
“Fine, be an asshole.” Throwing her hands up in defeat, Abby headed toward the house.
He followed slower, fighting mental demons with each step. A hard pulse beat in his temple and he rubbed at it, trying to stave off a headache. He’d buried all of it, every embarrassing fact, so far in his gut that he couldn’t pry the words loose with a backhoe. Still, those memories screeched through his mind like a steam whistle. The days when illegal deer kills and the garden were all that kept them from going hungry. The days without electricity when the unemployment ran out. The worn jeans that were an inch too short but the best they had to wear. The burn of hearing his so-called friends laugh behind his back.
Those pitying looks had seared into his soul like a brand. His father had tried everything, done everything in his power to provide for them after the mine closed. He’d banked on the maple syrup sales to tide them over, to help dig them out of the hellacious debt they were in. But that last winter had been so warm, with no snow and the temperatures rarely dipping below forty. It was as if even Mother Nature had them on her shitlist.
Kayla stood giggling with Molly McCreedy, their heads bent together like a couple of schoolgirls sharing secrets. To him, Kayla got prettier every day, whether she was mulching her gardens or crouched over her computer keyboard. What had started as an explosive attraction had morphed into something more promising. No, she didn’t need to know about his humiliation. He couldn’t care less about her past so why should his be different? The future was all that mattered. He wasn’t that poor little country boy without a home anymore.
As if she felt the weight of his stare, Kayla turned. Her smile went from friendly to something more, something private and just for him. Her full lips moved and the women all turned to look at him. Apparently, what she’d said was goodbye because she slung her purse over her shoulder and headed toward him. Something very real and womanly rolled her hips and made his chest tight.
He met her a few steps away. The scent of sugar frosting teased his nose. “Ready to go?”
“More than ready.”
Her hand slid into his with a simple grace that turned him on faster than a lightning flash. He caught Garrett as he galloped by. “Hey, Mini-man, we’re headed out. Have a good birthday?”
“Yep. Thanks for the Nerf gun. Mom wouldn’t ever get me one.” His helmet drooped down to cover one eye. He shoved it up and his manners kicked in. He stuck out a grimy hand. “Thanks for coming, Miss Kayla. I like the Lego kit.”
Matt winced at the dried ketchup and dirt but Kayla didn’t blink. She took his little hand and squeezed. “Thanks for letting me come.”
Garrett scurried away, plastic battle axe raised high and bellowing a war cry. Abby hurried after them, pushing a plate of cake covered in plastic wrap in Kayla hands. “Save my thighs, take this home.”
“Saving your thighs is going to add to my own,” Kayla moaned.
“Then make Matt eat it. He never gains anything but another muscle. I hate him.” She elbowed his gut, a sisterly jab that denied her words. He gave her a half smile. She might be irritated with him but family was family.
He held the door as Kayla climbed into his SUV. She stuck her finger under the wrapper and scooped up a glob of frosting. Matt’s breath caught when she licked it from her finger with a satiated sigh. “I love chocolate.”
Wondering if there was any chocolate syrup in his fridge, Matt started the engine. “Have a good time?”
A trace of frosting lined her upper lip and she licked it away. “I did. Garrett’s a sweetie.”
She rambled, telling him who said what and he listened with half an ear. Abby’s frustrated look stuck in his mind. Maybe she was right. Maybe he needed to tell Kayla.
Just the thought shrilled through him with shame. A tic began under his eye. He blinked rapidly, trying to hide his anxiety. His mind scrambled, desperate to find a topic, any topic, to push that image out of his head. “You and Molly seemed to connect.”
Molly McCreedy, owner of McCreedy’s Diner, had more sass than a corn-fed crow. She and Kayla were both strong women, ones who didn’t depend on others to take care of them or make them happy. He could see why they’d meshed.
Kayla refastened the plastic wrap. Something guarded slid over her face, smoothing her forehead into a blank plane. “I guess it’s the food thing. She told me to call her sometime.”
“You should. Molly’s great.”
“Tell me you didn’t date her.” Suspicion narrowed her eyes.
“No,” he scoffed. Half of Hawkins’ mill crew had hit on Molly at one time or another, but the pretty blonde wasn’t interested. She’d feed them, listen to their stories, joke around with them, but there was a clear hands-off vibe to her.
The humor drained from his gut. “Molly’s older brother and Webb used to be best friends, were being shaped to take over Hawkins when Old Deke retired. But there was a logging accident and Clay died.”
“How awful.”
“Yeah. Webb lost an eye in the same accident. Anyway, Molly doesn’t date anyone in the lumber business. Too many fears, I guess.”
“Can you blame her?” Kayla stared out the windshield, the passing shadows and sunlight flickering over her face. Sensing she wasn’t simply enjoying the scenery, Matt stayed silent. Four miles and two sighs later, she turned toward him.
“I met Pamela Larson when I was sixteen. I was the new girl yet again and she was this bright, bubbly cheerleader who ruled the school, you know? She sat beside me in geography class and started talking to me. Before I knew it, we were having sleepovers and hanging out after school, sharing secrets and swapping eyeliner. I thought she was my best friend, the best friend I’d ever had.”
“But she wasn’t?”
“No.” Lips trembling, Kayla looked out the passenger window. “She liked to hang out at my house. I thought it was because her family was a little on the poor side and my house was nicer.”
Old resentments surged inside him. His fists tightened on the steering wheel. The country road disappeared and he saw nothing but the water-stained ceiling in his old bedroom, the front porch that sagged on the left, the faded slipcovers that hid threadbare couch cushions. His home had been on the wrong side of shabby but all he’d had to do was look outside to see beauty and richness. His family had been broke but they’d counted themselves as blessed until that final year.
Kayla’s voice jerked him back to the present. He fixed his gaze on the winding two-lane road. “She begged me to sleep over on a Wednesday, something my parents never let happen, said her mom had to work the midnight shift. They caved.”
She lifted the hair off the back of her neck, rubbing at the muscles before letting it fall. “She snuck out and got caught in the guard shack with an enlisted man. She was underage so he got dishonorably discharged.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“That wasn’t, no. But my dad caught a lot of flack from his superiors over it. He forbid me to hang around Pammie anymore but she was my best friend. I skipped a study session and went to her house. She was already asking me about other guys on base. I said I couldn’t bring her home anymore and she got so mad.”
Swiping her thumb under her eye, Kayla sucked in a loud breath.
“She said she only became my friend to find someone to get her out of the hell she lived in, someone to take her away from food stamps and seco
ndhand clothes. I was her ticket to a finding a better life and if I didn’t help her, then I could get out of her crappy house and crappy life. I left.”
Matt snorted. “She could have gotten herself out without some guy but she made her choice. None of that is your fault.”
“I know. But it still hurt. She used me and I never saw it coming.”
His stomach sank. Abby’s accusation seared like acid. He powered his window down, letting the whipping air cool the burn. This was different. He wasn’t using Kayla for anything.
She looked at him then, eyes glistening in the afternoon sun, nose red and shiny, but with a smile curving her mouth into a bow. “I guess that’s why it’s hard for me to make friends, especially female ones. I’m always waiting to get hurt again. Stupid, huh?”
The mountain turn ahead was sharp, with a posted speed of only twenty miles an hour, but he reached over for her hand. “Not really, makes sense to me. But you and Abby clicked all right.”
“She’s safe, she doesn’t need anything from me. I guess with Molly owning a restaurant and with my business, I just let my cynical side push any possibility of being friends away. But I did like her a lot. Maybe I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Unable to take his eyes off the road, he merely squeezed her hand. Bold and brainy Kayla had a bruised side, one she protected by keeping people at arm’s length. She also recognized it and was set to change that. A weird sense of pride infused him. Strong women were sexy but self-aware women? Hot as fucking hell.
“I need to stop at the store. I want to get some chocolate syrup.”
* * *
Four barbecue dry-rub packets, four gluten-free biscuit mixes, four home-style chicken soup dry packs, four egg-free piecrust mixes... Kayla double-checked the box intended for a resort in Colorado. An old schoolmate had contacted her through Facebook, asking about her business, and Kayla wanted this first sample kit packaged perfectly. If her friend liked them, the resort orders would boost her business and give her an in with other ski resorts.