by Lori Wilde
They picked their way along the gravel and came upon a man with a tripod, cameras, binoculars and a surveyor’s level to measure azimuth angles. The man straightened at their approach.
“Hello, Stan,” Natalie greeted him.
The man’s face melted into a surprised smile. “Natty McCleary, is that you?”
“I was wondering if I’d see you here tonight.”
“You know I’m here every night from June to the middle of August.”
She smiled warmly at the man called Stan, too warmly in Dade’s estimation. “I didn’t know if you were still investigating the lights.”
“Always, forever, until I figure out what’s causing them.” The man was looking at Natalie as if she was a pork chop and he was a hungry hound dog.
“You’re determined to be the one who spoils the mystery, then?” She chuckled. It was an affectionate sound. She liked this guy. Dade hated that she liked this guy.
“You know me. I can’t stand ambiguity.”
“So you ruin it for the rest of us,” she teased.
“Knowledge is power.” The man stepped closer to her.
Irritation grated against Dade’s teeth. He too stepped closer to Natalie.
“Have you seen any lights yet this summer?” she asked.
Stan shook his head. “I’m hoping that means we’re due. Fingers crossed it’s tonight.” He held up two crossed fingers.
“Fingers crossed.” Natalie mimicked his gesture.
“It’s really good to see you again. How have you been?”
Dade slid his arm around Natalie’s waist. “She’s been fine. Great. In fact, she hasn’t been better.”
An eyebrow went up on Stan’s forehead. He was a mild-looking guy—long face, balding at the temples, soul patch on his soft chin. Dade hated soul patches. With facial hair you’re either in or you’re out. A soul patch was a partial commitment. Tiny little scruff of hair looked like he’d just missed a spot shaving.
“Stan Freeman, and you are . . . ?”
“With Natalie.” Dade kissed her cheek.
Natalie turned and peered dreamily at him. “Yes, you are.”
“And don’t forget it.” Dade reached for her left hand, interlocked his fingers with hers.
“Oh,” Stan said, and then, “Oh.”
“Listen, Stan,” Natalie said, “we’re looking for a friend of ours who’s gone missing.”
Stan put his hands to his spine, stretched. “This isn’t the safest place in the world to go missing.”
Uneasiness had Dade squeezing Natalie’s hand. She might trust this guy, but he certainly did not. “I need to speak to you in private.”
“Could you excuse us a minute, Stan?”
“Sure.” Stan went back to his tripod.
Dade pulled her over to the side. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to ask him if he’s seen Red. You heard him, he’s been here every night this summer.”
“How do you know you can trust him?”
“You have a paranoid streak a mile wide, you know that?”
“With good reason. I’ve been burned more times than I can count.”
“Maybe it’s because you expect to be burned. Ever think about that?”
“Naive,” he muttered. “You’re so naive.”
“If thinking the best of others is naive—”
“It is,” he cut her off. “Most people are rotten to the core. You’ve been blessed with fairy dust to live in a town surrounded by people who love you. Many people don’t have that luxury. Life kicks most of us in the teeth, time and time again.”
Natalie looked hurt. “You think I haven’t suffered? I was in a plane crash when I was nine years old. I saw my mother die right in front of my eyes. I dragged myself from the wreckage and managed to pull my baby sister out of it too. My leg was broken in twenty-two places. I had to have seven surgeries. I still walk with a limp, and every time the weather changes I get to remember all that. So screw you, Dade Vega, your suffering isn’t any more sanctified than mine. I’m sorry no one loved you as a child. That was terrible. I wish I could erase your childhood and give you a bright shiny one, but I can’t and you can’t keep blaming the past for the way you look at the world. You can’t let your history define who you become. That’s all it is, history.”
Whoa! He’d never heard her go on a rant like that.
She folded her arms over her chest, pressed her lips together in a thin, firm line. “I’m sorry, but you needed to hear that.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he apologized. “I know you’re not accustomed to being careful about what you say around people, but if you say the wrong thing to the wrong person Red could end up dead.”
“Yes, but if we don’t trust someone, sometime, how are we going to find Red?”
Dade ran a hand through his hair. True enough. It was the reason he’d had to finally break down and tell her the truth about why he was in Cupid. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Stan. “Who is this guy?”
“He’s a physics teacher at the University of Texas. He comes here every summer to research the Marfa Lights.”
“And he could be responsible for Red’s disappearance.”
Natalie laughed. “Stan?”
“How well do you know him?”
Natalie ducked her chin. “Um, we dated a few years back.”
“I see.” Dade pressed his lips together in a firm, hard line. Dated, huh? He imagined Stan kissing Natalie and his blood boiled.
A smiled crooked the corner of Natalie’s lips. “Why, Dade Vega, you’re jealous.”
He pulled her up tight against his chest. “Hell yes, I’m jealous. Just the thought of him putting his hands on you makes me want to smash his face in.”
She grinned.
“What? It’s not funny.”
“It is funny seeing you all hot and bothered over my former lover,” she teased.
Dade winced. “Don’t say that word.”
“What word? Lover? Lover, lover, lover.”
“I want to be your only lover,” he growled, and planted a punishing kiss on her lips. He hadn’t planned this. Didn’t really want to be feeling it, but he was feeling it nonetheless—jealousy, lust, possessiveness. He wanted Natalie all to himself.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck.
She kissed him back just as hard as he kissed her, then she whispered, “You’ve got nothing to be jealous of.”
“What happened between you and Stan the man? How come you broke up?”
She shrugged. “He wasn’t you.”
“Damn straight.” He lightly swatted her fanny. She giggled, and the sweet sound went straight through him.
“But we really should ask him about Red.”
Dade studied her. “So you really do trust this guy?”
She nodded. “I do.”
He hesitated.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well then?” She held her raised palms out at her sides.
Against his better judgment, he agreed. “All right. Ask him about Red, but don’t give him any more information than you have to.”
“Got it.” She saluted him. “Complete paranoia mode.”
She ambled away from him, back toward that Stan character. Dade charged after her. He wanted to make it clear to Stan that he had absolutely no chance of rekindling anything with Natalie.
What’s going on with you? You’re not the possessive type. You don’t get jealous. This thing with Natalie . . .
Yeah, that right there. What was this thing with Natalie?
He had no answer to the question, but he felt compelled to rest his hands on her shoulders as she told Stan about Red and asked if he’d seen him.
“Sure, I know Red,” Stan said. “We’ve had a few interesting conversations about the Marfa Lights.”
Natalie canted her head. “We know he came to Marfa on the nineteenth of June
. Did you see him that night?”
“Yes, I remember it specifically because I gave him a ride home to Cupid.”
“How did he seem to you?” Natalie asked.
Stan shrugged. “Nothing unusual.”
“Anything else you can think of?”
“No. I do hope he’s okay.”
“So do we,” Natalie murmured. “Thanks, Stan.”
Dade took her hand and guided her back the way they had come.
“Dead end,” she said. “The ticket stub is a dead end. Red took the bus to Marfa but Stan gave him a ride home.”
“If your pal Stan is telling the truth.”
She stopped, dropped his hand, and sank her hands on her hips. “Why would he lie about that? And besides, how would the ticket stub have gotten among Red’s things?”
“Why does anyone lie? Maybe he’s involved with Red’s disappearance. Maybe he put the ticket stub among Red’s things. Ever thought about that?”
“Why would he go to all that trouble?”
“To make us think Red came home from the trip to Marfa.”
Natalie clicked her tongue. “It’s gotta hurt.”
“What?”
“Being inside your head. Have a little faith in people.”
Dade grunted. “C’mon,” he said, and held out his hand to her again.
She hesitated a moment, but finally sank her hand into his. When they were almost back to the bike, Natalie grabbed his elbow. “Dade!” she exclaimed. “Look!”
Similar exclamations came from the people clustered at the viewing shelter, and Dade swung his gaze due east where Natalie pointed. Two basketball-sized fiery orange orbs appeared on the horizon. The orbs bounced up in the sky in unison, then split apart, shimmering and shaking. Then the lights sprang toward each other and merged into one red glowing light. They wriggled and jiggled, split apart again, circled each other twirling and whirling like square dancers.
“Holy shit,” Dade said, not believing what he was seeing. No way could these be car lights or campfires. Something else was going on here to create those lights.
“Isn’t it amazing?” she whispered.
“Not half as amazing as you.”
She turned to look at him, a happy smile on her face. “You say the sweetest things.”
Only to you. “I can see why Red was fascinated with the Marfa Lights. They’re something to see.”
They stood side by side watching the lights. Natalie slipped an arm around his waist.
“The lights remind me of us,” he murmured.
She swallowed visibly as if she had a lump the size of El Paso caught in her throat. “How’s that?”
“The way the lights come together, dance for a bit, split apart, and then come back together again.”
“We’re like that?”
“Have been since day one. Both of us leery of the connection that neither one of us can deny.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it, but he felt obliged to let her know what he was thinking.
She turned into him. “You feel it too?”
“If you have to ask, then I haven’t been doing as good a job of kissing you as I thought.”
“Maybe we should work on it some more.”
“Maybe we should.”
There, in the glow of the mysterious and awe-inspiring Marfa Lights, Dade kissed her thoroughly and completely. “How’s that? Any doubts left?”
“Take me home,” she whispered. “Take me back to Cupid’s Rest and make love to me, Dade.”
“Hell, darlin’,” he said. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Chapter 15
Explosive physical love is a natural extension of a strong emotional connection.
—MILLIE GREENWOOD
Tonight, they might not have found a lead on Red’s whereabouts, but Dade and Natalie had discovered each other. They arrived at the Cupid’s Rest shortly after midnight. The house was dark, the occupants asleep. A rendezvous moon hung overhead, sinful in its goldenness.
“Do you still mean what you said back there in Marfa?” Dade asked once he’d parked the Harley.
“I haven’t changed my mind. Have you?”
“Darlin’,” he said, pulling her up against his chest. “Do you really have to ask?”
Excitement strummed through her as strong as on the first day she’d seen him. No, stronger, because now she was about to make love to the man of her dreams.
“So where do we go from here?” he murmured.
She laid a finger to her lips. “My bedroom.”
The air smelled of summer, honeysuckle and roses. A fragrance she’d smelled every year of her life and had never really appreciated until now. She inhaled, breathed in summer and the smell of their lust.
Abandoning all caution, driven by the realization that this was probably the wildest adventure she was ever going to have, Natalie moved up the steps. She pushed at the back door. It didn’t move. She turned the handle. Locked tight.
Oh yes, Dade had put in a new lock.
She reached in the pocket of her jeans for the key and unlocked the door. He was right behind her and she could feel his breath on her neck. She shivered.
There’s no going back once you do it. Once you make love to him it can’t be undone.
Good. She didn’t want it undone. For once, she wanted to seize life by the throat, take advantage of an opportunity. No regrets.
“Which room is yours?” he asked as soon as she had the door unlocked and they were inside.
“Third room on the left at the top of the landing, why?”
“Because of this.” He bent and scooped her into his arms.
“Ooh, put me down.”
“Nope, this is me, sweeping you off your feet,” he said, and headed for the stairs.
Feeling like Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind when Rhett Butler whisked her up the stairs, Natalie decided to go with it and hung on to his neck.
He kicked opened the door to her bedroom and carried her inside. He set her on her feet and turned to lock the door. It made a resounding click.
Oh my!
In the dark room, she couldn’t see his face. That freaked her out a little. She fumbled in the dark, found the bedside lamp, and flicked it on.
Ack! Now there was too much light.
She crossed the room to light the scented candle on her dresser, turned back to see Dade flick off the lamp. The fragrance of lemon-lime filled the room.
He gazed at her, hair mussed from the wind-blown motorcycle ride.
He grinned wickedly at her, and Natalie’s heart rocked. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.
Good heavens, she was so nervous that her hands were shaking. Be cool. Act like this is no big deal. But she was nervous as hell. This was her first time and she wasn’t ready. She hadn’t even shaved her legs. She should be better prepared.
Oh gosh, maybe it was time to rethink this whole thing.
You’ve had almost thirty years to prepare for this. How much more time do you need?
Excellent point.
He came across the room toward her.
She gulped and backed up.
“Natalie.” He breathed her name on a sigh and gathered her in his arms again.
Natalie dissolved in his embrace. She’d been aching for this for days. Dreamed of it. Imagined it. Now here it was and she was feeling a million wonderful and scary things.
“Wait!” She held up a hand.
He stopped.
“Do you have condoms?”
“Couple in my wallet. Bought them the day after we danced at the bar.”
“Pretty cocky. Was I that much of a sure thing?”
“Darlin’,” he said. “I don’t count on anything, but I believe in being prepared.”
“Good.” She smoothed down her hair with flighty hands. “Shall we get to it?”
“Get to it?” An amused smile twitched his lips.
She reached for his belt buckle to cover
her anxiety. She had no real idea what she was doing here. Sure, she’d read steamy novels and The Joy of Sex, and she and Stan had done some heavy petting. And she did have a trusty little vibrator tucked into her bedside drawer, but none of those things substituted for the real deal.
Dade stilled her hand. “Hold the phone. I want a little foreplay.”
She snorted. “You’re a guy.”
“And?”
“Guys don’t need foreplay.” Because you know so much about it?
“Wanting and needing are two different things.”
“You’re already hard,” she pointed out.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want this seduction to last. It’s our first time. It should be special.”
Spooked, she backed up. She wasn’t sure she could survive prolonged foreplay with him. And what if their first time was just one time? What about that? He was only in town to find Red. Once he found him, what then? Clearly, she had not thought this through.
He snagged her by the elbow. “C’mere, darlin’.”
Her pulse skipped.
His hand went around her waist and he drew her to him.
She looked up into his enigmatic eyes. What was he thinking?
He kissed her, and it was sweeter than before, softer. She cupped his face in both her palms and kissed him back.
“Should we talk about this step?” he asked.
“No talking,” she insisted. “I want to feel you inside me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re moving too fast, sweetheart. Slow down. Savor.”
“I just want to get this going before I chicken out.” She reached down, took his hand, and pressed it to her breasts.
“If you’re thinking you might chicken out, then we shouldn’t be doing this.”
What the hell was wrong with her? One minute she was running hot, the next cold, and then scorching again. She was messing this up. She was no good at seduction. No wonder she was a twenty-nine-year-old virgin. She thought too much.
Instead of answering him, she surprised herself by brazenly slipping her hand lower, moving from his belt to his zipper. Beneath her touch, he turned to stone. Natalie thrilled to the feel of him. She made him hard.