by Vanessa Vale
“Shit.” He shook his head. “I’m having thoughts about kissing you.”
My breath lodged in my throat and I felt my blood pressure soar.
“But it’s the wrong thing to do,” he continued. While he stared at my mouth, he looked as if he had heartburn, that kissing me was what he wanted, but excruciating at the same time. “Hell, I don’t kiss women who are demented.”
Huh? Now I gave him a funny look. That wasn’t what I’d imagined coming next.
“Demented?” I asked. I was stuck on the word kiss which made my brain slow.
He ran his hand over the back of his neck, his frustration obvious. “If you’d come out here by yourself like you’d wanted the men would be picking up pieces of you along with the house.”
I jabbed my finger into his chest. “If I’d come by myself I would have parked in the street!” What a lame comeback. I wasn’t very good at confrontation. I’d hated when Nate had gotten in my face, told me how everything wrong in his life had been my fault. Maybe I was demented.
He frowned, blue eyes blazing. “What the hell does that mean?” He had the look of a man who was talking to a woman who really was demented. I couldn’t blame him.
I felt tears burn the back of my eyes, knew that while he wanted to kiss me, he didn’t want me. “I have no idea!” I swallowed the lump of frustration and old fear trying to escape. “Nate used to yell at me and I don’t like it.”
I looked down at the ground. Anywhere but at Ty.
“I bet he never yelled at you about a house exploding.”
I shook my head. “No. Just sex,” I replied, nonchalantly. I looked up at him, surprised. Crap, I hadn’t meant to let that slip out. Too much information and no one wanted to hear about the guy who came before, even if he was dead.
Ty pulled his head back a bit and looked at me strangely. “Sweetheart, I can guarantee I’ll never yell at you about sex.” He leaned back in, this time so close he whispered in my ear. I felt his breath hot on my neck and I shivered. His knuckles ran up and down my bare arm, goose bumps rising. My body responded to him so well. Too well. “You, however, can yell all you want. Hell, I bet I can make you scream.”
He was right. I was demented. Demented enough to turn my face into his and kiss him. Not just a little peck on the cheek, but the kind where you grab the hair at the back of his neck and settle in for a while.
After a second of stunned stillness, he took over. Gentleness was now over. His kiss was a little rough, his tongue moved quickly to find mine. Heat flared and I moaned, which only spurred him to take it deeper. His hand cupped my nape and held me in place, tilted me as he wanted.
God, he was a good kisser! Amazing. Deep licks, soft pecks, dominant possessiveness.
I was equally desperate to lose myself in the kiss, holding him close, even hooking my leg around his. I could feel every hard inch of him.
What an insane morning! The adrenaline was bleeding into the kiss, into the need to take him right here on the street. I went hot all over, and weak. I felt alive, and after the death-defying experience, it was wonderful. I was walked backward and my back pressed up against something hard and cold. The fire truck. Ty’s chest was equally hard against my breasts and he could no doubt feel my hard nipples. His knee nudged my legs apart and he was even closer, his hard cock settling right at my pussy, our clothes the only barrier. Like a total hussy, I rolled my hips, rubbing against him. We groaned together.
I was so totally lost, so in over my head. So…forgetful. This couldn’t go anywhere, not here, not against a fire truck—although I was sure Goldie had an adult film of it in her collection at the store. But the actress wasn’t me. This wasn’t me.
I pulled back as best I could, remembering where we were.
“We…um…need to stop.” I breathed as if I’d run a mile.
Ty grinned, his eyes dark with lust. His lips were red and a little shiny. He pressed his cock into me once, then stepped back. “I’ve got that box of condoms if you want to start back up someplace a little more private.”
He kissed the tip of my nose and walked away, leaving me leaning against the fire truck, the only thing keeping me up.
* * *
Around lunchtime, I got a ride home with a sheriff. Ty’d had to stay behind and wait for the insurance adjuster and complete the paperwork about his flattened truck. Kelly had been kind enough to drive Bobby and Zach into town in her epic van that held all her kids, and mine. The decibel level in the back had to be close to rock concert proportions.
I met them at Bogert Pool. Everyone piled out, pool noodles, goggles and towels flying every which way, ready for an afternoon of swimming. Bogert was the city’s outdoor pool which had swim lessons in the morning—which Zach and Bobby went to—and open pool hours all afternoon. It was noisy and chock full of kids, but usually the boys ran into someone they knew and played the afternoon away in the shallow pool. I was content with the sun and cool water.
Kelly and I sat on the edge of the shallow end and watched the younger ones splash and swim. I wore the green bikini I’d gotten two years before from mail order. It wasn’t super revealing, although my larger chest size provided ample cleavage no matter what I wore and made me feel a little self-conscious. Kelly wore a typical mom-kini. A brightly patterned, mostly pink tank and swim skirt. It, of course, looked cute on her. If I wore her suit, I’d be spilling out the top and the little ruffles on the skirt would look like bloomers on me.
“I don’t know if I should laugh at you or hug you. I’m so glad you’re all right, but I can’t believe it. The house blew up and Ty’s truck….” Kelly shook her head. There really wasn’t much else to say. The rest—the why, the who and how—were still mysteries. I had hoped to go to the garage sale house and get answers. Instead, I only had more questions. More problems.
And that was just the gnome mystery. That didn’t even include Ty and the mystery of the kiss. The Kiss. It deserved capital letters because it was monumental. Memorable. Unforgettable. At the same time, it really wasn’t that complicated. It was just a kiss. An extremely hot, steamy, frantic kiss. My bones had practically melted, my brain had seeped out my ears. My nipples got rock hard just thinking about it. And lower, I was achy and eager for that thick cock I’d felt.
“Explain to me again your problem with Ty?” Kelly asked. “It was a kiss.”
When I’d told her about the incident behind the fire truck, and she’d fanned herself with her hand. I felt like I was in high school, talking through a make-out session, analyzing it in minute detail.
Hell, yeah. It was a Kiss.
My cell rang from my bag and I dashed over to it, leaving wet footprints behind me. Goldie.
“What the holy hell happened?” She didn’t waste time on hello.
I knew what she was asking about and I refused to enlighten her before I yelled at her first. “What the hell is right! Why on earth did you give Ty that box?”
“I didn’t think you’d do anything about the lack of sex in your life. Thought I might give him a little push.”
“A push?” I turned away from the other pool patrons and covered a hand over the phone. “Anal beads are not a push! Do you have any idea what he thinks of me now? I certainly don’t!”
“He’ll think you’re sexually adventurous and open to trying new things.”
“I’m not into trying anal beads on the first date!” I whispered. More kisses would be okay though.
“Fine, fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll come up with something a little tamer. Just save them for date three.” Chuckling came across the line loud and clear.
I tried counting to ten but made it to six. “You will not send him another box.” My voice was two steps below a shout and one I used for the boys when they stuffed their toys down the toilet. “If you do…I won’t tell you about the explosion.” A threat was all I had. And it was a weak one as she’d find out all about it from someone else anyway.
“All right. I won’t send him another bo
“Good. I’m at the pool so I’ll explain it all later. Ten still?” I was supposed to work with her tonight as Veronica, another employee, was on vacation.
“Please.”
“How come you never torture Veronica with a box?” I wondered.
“One lonely vagina at a time.”
Goldie hung up without a goodbye.
My mouth fell open and I stared at the phone. Had she really just said that? Lonely vagina?
I mindlessly waved to Bobby who cannonballed off the side of the pool. Kelly clapped when he popped above the surface. I put the phone away, still stunned by Goldie’s words and rejoined my friend.
“Hello? The kiss?” Kelly prompted.
“Like I said, it wasn’t just a kiss.” I sighed. I couldn’t deny it. “It was way more. Whenever I see Ty I have that sick, nervous feeling in my stomach. There are cute guys out there that haven’t done a thing for me. Like Luke Newsom’s dad from second grade. He’s really attractive, but I feel nothing. But then Ty walks in the room and…zing. There’s a zing I can’t explain.” A zing that went straight to my clit.
Kelly waded through the shallow water to pick up Emmaline who was crying because she’d gotten splashed by a big kid. Appeased by her mom’s attentions, the four-year-old wriggled down out of Kelly’s grasp and went back to her water toys.
“God, I love that zing,” Kelly said, looking dreamily up at the sky as if she remembered her own special zing. “So, what’s the problem?”
Exactly. What was the problem? I was chicken. Too chicken to be interested in someone again, even with all that heat between us. The chemistry was off the charts. Even Ty couldn’t argue with that. But I didn’t want him to find me deficient. Unappealing. Like Nate. Life had been plugging along just fine until…zing. Once you get the zing, you can’t go back.
“I need to figure out what’s going on with this ridiculous vial of semen.” I whispered the last as we were in mixed company. Grown-ups and kids.
She frowned. “What does that have to do with the kiss?”
Crap, I hadn’t distracted her. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I just know what comes after a kiss and I’m not sure if I’m ready for it.”
“The it is the best part! I say go for it.” Kelly pushed her straw hat down further over her eyes. The glare off the water was intense. She put her hand up by her mouth and whispered, “I’d get some of those condom samples at the store, just in case.”
I rolled my eyes. If she only knew about Goldie’s package and the huge box that Ty now had. I went to retrieve the sunscreen from my bag and started spraying. I felt extra heat on the back of my neck. Was it from the sun or from talk about sex with Ty?
“Can we talk about something else now?” She and Goldie seemed to love to gab about my non-existent sex life. Way more than I did.
“Fine, fine. What was the name of that ranch again where the guy, the gnome stealer, worked?”
“Um…Rocking Double D.”
Kelly’s third youngest, Kyle, stopped by for her to adjust his swim goggles, and then was gone. “I’ve heard of that place. It was in the paper last month.”
Montana, the fourth largest state in the US, is huge. With less than a million people living in the entire state, there was a lot of open land. Lots of ranch land. For Montana, I was considered a city dweller and rarely, if ever, became involved with ranch life. The only time I saw ranchers was at the county fair when they brought in their cows, sheep and other animals to promote their ranch, sell or compete for blue ribbons. I didn’t know anything at all about growing crops or raising cattle. I got my food at the farmers market, grocery store or butcher shop.
But Kelly had grown up in Bozeman and knew lots of people, and lots of people knew her—way more than I did. Ranchers, townies, whomever. Her parents knew even more. Add Goldie to the mix and I swear they knew everyone between Butte and Billings. But the fact that the Rocking Double D ranch was in the Chronicle meant city folk like me should know about it, too.
“A cow there had triplets.”
That was the last thing I expected her to say. In fact, it distracted me so much I sprayed sunscreen up my arm and into my hair. I now smelled like coconut and chlorine. I had to imagine triplets, then a cow giving birth to them. How big was a calf at birth? I couldn’t picture the mother cow with three in there. Her belly must have grazed the ground.
“I didn’t even know it was possible. Triplets?”
“I guess it happens on occasion, but not all three usually live. Some kind of mother-rejecting-the-extra-calves-thing. Who knows, but it’s rare enough all three lived that the paper picked up on it.”
“Huh.” What the hell did a vial of bull semen in a gnome have to do with triplet cows?
6
“Absolutely nothing,” Ty said that night after dinner. He’d come over to check on me. Which I didn’t mind. Not one bit. “No one can plan a cow giving birth to triplets. It just happens. It has nothing whatsoever to do with the vial.”
“Triplets or not, the vial most likely came from the Rocking Double D ranch. It makes sense. Morty Moore must have stolen it from there.”
We sat on my front steps. They led to the front door painted a deep pumpkin, which stood open. Two planters were on either side filled with bright geraniums and other plants I couldn’t name.
I’d showered and changed back into shorts and a T-shirt after the pool, but skipped shoes. Ty sat close to me, his hands resting on bent knees. I could see the small scratches on his forearms from the explosion and our dive into the ditch. He smelled of soap and clean laundry. It was hard not to look at his mouth, not to lean in and kiss him again. The attraction was almost too strong to resist. His kisses were like a drug and I wanted another hit, but being chaperoned by two kids kept things G-rated.
“You’re probably right. He may have been trying to make a little money on the side. But we don’t know what his job is at the ranch or how he had access to the vials. And, why the hell did he stick the vial in the gnome?” His eyes dropped to my mouth as they seemed to always do. Maybe he was having a similar affliction. “You smell good.” He reached up and ran a hand over my hair.
“Chlorine,” I murmured as I leaned into his palm. It was warm, calloused, and the simple gesture was soothing, like a hug.
The boys were in the garage puttering around, one minute pulling out their scooters, the next getting a soccer ball to kick. They were self-entertaining and being creative. No TV or video games in sight.
The street was quiet except for a lawnmower in the distance and the smell of cut grass in the air. The crows had set up home in the pine tree across the street and their cawing or whatever their talk was called could drive someone to drink. The Colonel took his slingshot out at least once a day to scare them off. Right now though, they were quiet.
The dinner dishes were done, the evening had cooled down and my skin glowed pink from the inside out thanks to the sun. I heard the boys chattering away. It was a simple summer night and I was content. After the crazy morning and the insanity of the pool with nine kids, it was calm and quiet. Peaceful.
“What are you guys up to?” I called. I didn’t want to move away from Ty to find out. His hand ran absently over my knee. Zing! If the boys weren’t yelling at each other or crying in pain, I tended to keep out of it. Especially now when a hot guy told me I smelled good, his hand was on me and his mouth within kissing range.
“Working on our bikes!” Zach hollered back.
“Great. Occupied kids.” Ty leaned in and kissed me at that soft, highly sensitive spot behind my ear. I couldn’t help but gasp at the contact. Heat shot straight south.
“Um…any word on Morty Moore? Has he shown up yet?” I asked Ty, trying to keep my sanity. It was one thing to practically climb him like a monkey behind a fire truck, another when the kids could pop out of the garage at any time. “We know he didn’t die in the explosion and he was here running away from you last night. Oh, God.” His warm hand moved up the bare skin of my thigh, his fingertips just below the edge of my shorts.
He nipped at the spot where my shoulder met my neck. Hot flash!
“The DMV provided us with his license photo,” he murmured, as he kissed the sting away. “Morty Moore was definitely the man on your doorstep last night.”
Ty would be able to identify him better than I. They’d stood face to face long enough for that. I’d only seen the man as he ran off down the street.
“The fire department talked with Moores in Arizona. Their son, Morty—”
I did all I could to keep my hands at my sides, even clenched them into fists. They wanted desperately to curl into his hair and pull his head about five inches lower. “What kind of parent names their son Morty Moore? He must have been teased mercilessly in school.”
I felt Ty grin into my neck. He had to agree with me. “Morty has been living in the house. With the economy, the Moores aren’t even trying to sell. They haven’t heard from him in over a week. The whole business has been handed over to the police.”
“The police?” I pulled his head back by the ears and looked at him as if he’d given birth to triplets. “I thought it was just a gas leak. You said it had been helped, but I figured you meant someone bumped into a pipe and knocked it loose or something.” My desire to be taken right here on the steps diminished almost completely by the thought of potential death by intentional explosion.
Ty shook his head, although I wasn’t sure if it was from being separated from my neck or in response to my comment. He sighed, stood up and went over and plucked a dead flower off my potted geranium. “The pipe that ran from the tank to the house had been damaged. Intentionally. There was a leak, which is how you smelled the gas. That’s all preliminary. They’ll investigate and let me know.”
I could feel the blood—what was left of it—rush out of my head. “Someone was trying to kill us?” I squeaked.
“I doubt it was meant for us. Most likely Morty. He’s in something way over his head.”
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