July Thunder

by Rachel Lee

But eventually reality intruded. The vinyl was sticky and uncomfortable against his skin. He wished he’d spread out the blankets, musty though they probably were after all this time.

  But the woman in his arms seemed to make all that irrelevant. He opened his eyes and found her green eyes staring back at him, a faint happy curve on her mouth.

  “How are you?” he asked huskily.

  Her smile deepened. “Wonderful. You?”

  “Better than wonderful.” He hugged her with delight, and a laugh escaped her. “This vinyl sucks, though.”

  “Just slightly.”

  “Let me get some blankets?”

  “It might be better if you checked outside. I’ve seen some flickers that look like lightning.”

  “Damn.”

  She laughed again. “It’s okay. We can go back to my place.”

  Knowing that the day wasn’t over made it easier for him to let go of her, though not by much. He climbed out of the berth and pulled his shorts on. That was when he realized they were both still wearing their sneakers. He looked at his feet and laughed. She laughed, too, waggling her foot in the air.

  “Don’t do that,” he cautioned. “I’ll leap on you again. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  Dim as the light was, he had the pleasure of seeing her blush. He also saw the teasing glint in her eye as she covered herself with her hands.

  He was grinning when he climbed the ladder and looked out. What he saw sobered him immediately.

  Ugly-looking thunderclouds blotted out most of the sky, and the day was no longer dark from smoke. It had a green cast from the clouds. The water was choppy and whitecapped. And there was definitely lightning. Far away yet, without thunder, but probably marching closer.

  He backstepped down the ladder and reached for his shirt. “We’d better get to shore. It’s going to be bad.”

  “I can’t think of a worse place to be during a storm.”

  “You got it.” But he lingered to watch her rise from the berth, and he picked up her scattered clothes, handing them to her.

  “It’d probably be best if you stayed down here,” he told her. “No point in being a lightning rod.”

  “Okay.”

  Up on deck, he pulled in the anchor, then turned the engine over. Soon they were speeding straight across the lake to the ramp. All the other boats were gone now, their owners having prudently sought shelter.

  He felt a little stupid for not realizing how the weather was changing. But he’d been more than a little preoccupied. The memory made him grin into the teeth of the wind.

  Mountain storms blew up fast. As a child, he’d lived in places where you could watch the clouds build slowly over the course of a lazy summer afternoon, but here they often seemed to appear almost by magic.

  There was still a thin line of blue to the east as he approached the ramp, but the wind had kicked up, tossing the trees, bending even the big old pines. No rain yet. God, how they needed the rain.

  Because of the wind, he needed Mary’s help. He had her keep the boat from drifting away while he backed the trailer down the ramp into the water. He was glad when he could bundle her into the SUV while he finished loading and securing the boat, but he had to admit he was feeling a little exposed himself.

  Because now the lightning was getting closer, and the last place he wanted to be was standing in knee-deep water. He lashed the boat as quickly as he could, then hurried to climb into the car himself.

  Mary was looking at him with pursed lips. “I know I don’t have to tell you how stupid that was.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Okay.” She smiled.

  “It’s all your fault, anyway.”

  “Mine?” She arched a brow.

  “Sure. If you hadn’t distracted me, I’d have gotten us back sooner.”

  “Oh.” She was trying not to laugh; he could see it. “You’re right. I’m a bad influence.”

  “Absolutely the worst. There oughtta be a law.”

  “In twenty-nine states, there probably is.”

  He started laughing. It felt so good to laugh again. To feel free to laugh again. And he had Mary to thank for that.

  The trip back was uneventful. The skies continued to darken and began to growl threateningly, but there was no rain to make the pavement slick. They stopped at his house to park the trailer and boat, and he thought about inviting her in. But somehow he wasn’t ready to do that, so they left immediately for her house. If she noticed his reluctance, she didn’t betray it.

  It bothered him, though. After the afternoon he and Mary had just spent together, he ought to be willing to invite her into every dusty corner of his life. Yet something held him back. Something kept him from taking that step.

  And he was no longer sure what that something was.

  They pulled into Mary’s driveway, behind her little car. The lightning was flashing wildly overhead now, and the booms of thunder were almost as sharp as gun cracks.

  They darted to the front door, neither of them wanting to be out longer than necessary. Once inside, though, Mary opened some of the windows enough to let the wind blow through, bringing in the fresh scent of ozone.

  It was dark inside, thanks to the storm, and she was surprisingly reluctant to turn on any lights. As if casting artificial light over them would somehow disturb the enchantment she was feeling. The last thing on earth that she wanted to happen now was for reality to come barging back.

  But she didn’t know what to do. Should she offer him something to drink? Turn on music? Only minutes ago she had been feeling secure and safe with him, amazingly comfortable. But now all she could feel was awkward. What if he’d begun to regret their lovemaking? What if all he wanted to do was escape?

  Time seemed endless as he stood there just inside the door. Longing to leave? Or feeling just as awkward as she?

  But then he sat on the couch and patted the seat beside him. Feeling almost stiff, she sat, then felt everything inside her melt as he wrapped his arm around her and snuggled her to his side. It was okay.

  For now. She absolutely refused to think about later until it shoved itself in her face.

  Her ear was against Sam’s chest, and she could hear his voice rumble deep inside as he spoke. “This has been a wonderful day.”

  “Yes, it has.” Her heart squeezed a little as she wondered if he was working up to ending it now.

  “And,” he said slowly, “I don’t want it to end. How about you?”

  She could have laughed from sheer joy. “Me, neither.”

  “Good.”

  She felt him brush a kiss on the top of her head, and a thrill raced through her. She wished he would drag her off to bed again right now. And yet…and yet she wanted these quiet, comfortable minutes, too. Minutes that were making it feel as if this could last forever.

  Making love with him had been an astounding experience, one that had lived up to her wildest youthful dreams, dreams that had been forgotten when her ex-husband had taught her otherwise. But with Sam it had been beautiful, passionate, almost exuberant. It had been an experience that she would carry as a touchstone for the rest of her days.

  Part of her feared that if they made love again she would discover the first time had been a fluke. And part of her feared that if she shattered these peaceful moments in even the slightest way he would disappear like a genie who had granted his last wish.

  That she could at once feel so conflicted and so peaceful amazed her. It was as if she were two people in the same body.

  So she didn’t move, except to snuggle closer. To wrap her arm around Sam’s narrow waist and hug him back. How beautiful.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked, echoing her thought. Lifting his other hand, he stroked her hair gently. “Like fire and mist.”

  The poetry struck her. She hadn’t thought of him as the poetic type. But it also seemed extravagant, and she felt embarrassed. “I’m just your basic Irish-American.”

 
; “Really? I don’t think there’s anything basic about you at all. Not in the least.”

  She squirmed a little, unaccustomed to such extravagant praise. “Sam…”

  “Just say thank you,” he chided kindly. “That’s all you have to say.”

  “Thank you,” she said meekly.

  He chuckled.

  Then, feeling inexplicably impish, she added, “You’re quite a stud.”

  “Stud?” His tone held outrage that quickly dissolved into more laughter. “So I’m a stud, am I?”

  She dared to steal a look at his face. “Absolutely.”

  “Hmm. No one’s ever said that about me before.”

  “At least not to your face.” He was blushing; she could see it even in the dim light. She liked that.

  Lightning suddenly brightened the room, so intense that Mary felt momentarily blinded. The crack of thunder that followed almost immediately made her whole house shudder. For long seconds all she could see was the afterimage of the flash.

  “That was close,” Sam said, as the rumble died away and along with it the shudder that had passed through her house.

  “Yes.” She held her breath, anticipating another flash. Or, worse, the sound of a siren that would indicate there was trouble. But all she heard was the rush of the wind and some car alarms.

  “That’s my alarm,” Sam said.

  “Don’t go out there.” Mary tightened her hold on him. “Sam, that was too close for comfort. The alarm will stop in a few seconds, won’t it?”

  “A minute or so.”

  “Then just leave it.” She could feel him hesitating, stiffening under her touch, but then he relaxed back into her embrace. “You’re right. I tempted fate enough today.”

  She wondered if he meant his standing in the water while he positioned his boat as lightning flashed overhead, or if he meant something else. Maybe something else. Because she, too, suddenly felt as if she were tempting fate.

  Maybe she ought to stand up and call a halt to all of this right now. But she couldn’t bring herself to do that. Couldn’t tear herself away from the feeling of contentment his arms gave her. The house shook again with another flash and rumble, but not as bright and loud this time. The car alarm stopped as suddenly as it had started.

  Then even the wind seemed to hold its breath. The curtains stopped stirring, and for a few minutes the air was as still as a tomb.

  The sudden hush was incredible, as if the whole world had stilled, caught between heartbeats.

  Then, with a whoosh that blew the curtains straight out from the windows, the wind roared down on them with another blinding flash of lightning and deafening clap of thunder. Moments later Mary heard the occasional plop of large raindrops on her roof.

  “Oh, I hope it rains,” she said.

  “Me, too.” But Sam eased away from her, leaving her feeling bereft, and went to look out the window. The day was dark green; the streetlights had even come on, visible over his shoulder. Not wanting to be so far away from him, Mary rose, too, and went to stand beside him.

  Raindrops were indeed falling, but only a few, each plop stirring up a little dust as it fell. Lightning crackled across the sky, a fork that left its afterimage imprinted on Mary’s retinas. And behind it, the sky glowed green for a long time.

  “I’ve never seen that before,” she remarked. “That glow.”

  “I guess the air is really charged.”

  “It’s going to start another fire, isn’t it?”

  “I hope not.”

  “This has been the strangest summer.” The wind coming through the windows felt cold now, and Mary wrapped her arms around herself. The temperature drop was huge and sudden, the sign of a truly severe storm.

  He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close to his side, warming her and comforting her all at once as they stood and watched. The trees tossed violently, turning silver. Even a few fresh leaves were ripped away to skitter down the street. Dust was blowing now, clouding the air while the heavens eked out a few paltry drops of water.

  “Let it rain,” Mary whispered, a prayer.

  “Amen,” Sam answered. “Let it pour. Let it flood the streets and soak the woods.”

  “At least the storms are starting to build again,” she said, trying to be optimistic. “Maybe the weather will come back to its normal pattern.”

  “We can hope.”

  Yes, they could, but she suspected they both knew better. It was going to take more than one good rain to make the world wet enough to be safe again. At this altitude the air was normally so dry anyway that the rain that fell would dry off quickly. At this altitude, water didn’t hang around. It would run off quickly in all the brooks and streams that drained to lower elevations.

  But her mind wasn’t really interested in what the rain would or wouldn’t do, nor was the rest of her. Her heart, she realized, had begun a slow heavy beating, and every last bit of her mind was acutely aware of how close Sam was.

  Faintly she could smell his scent, and the aroma evoked sharp memories of their coupling on the boat. With those flashes of memory her insides clenched with hunger. With a thrill so deep it was almost painful.

  She realized she was holding her breath, afraid even the slightest sound would fracture the spell. Then his arm brushed against hers, an accidental contact. But it reminded her of how good those arms had felt around her and awoke in her the deepest craving she had ever felt.

  Common sense and reason fled, leaving her at the mercy of her most basic desires.

  She turned to Sam, and in response he turned, too. They were face-to-face, only inches apart. Was she imagining it, or was he holding his breath, too?

  Then their eyes met, and she knew she wasn’t imagining it. He was feeling it, too. The magic. The spell. The hunger.

  Reaching up slowly, she touched his face with her fingertips, tracing its contours with the lightest of touches. He drew a long, shuddery breath and closed his eyes.

  Thus encouraged, she continued her exploration. She liked the sensation of his beard stubble beneath her fingertips and remembered it brushing her face when they kissed. His chin was firm, nicely shaped. She traced the fine crow’s-feet at the corner of his eyes and found the soft skin of his earlobes.

  Then her hands trailed downward, learning his strong neck, feeling the cords there tighten and relax under her touches. Then lower, down the throat of his shirt, to the sides, finding the tiny points of his hard nipples.

  He drew a sharp breath, almost a moan. Feeling a bubble of happiness deep inside, she shoved her hands up under his polo shirt and found his naked nipples, brushing them lightly, pinching them gently, until at last a deep moan emerged from him.

  Such a sensual man, she thought. Shoving her hands upward, she pulled his shirt over his head, and he raised his arms to help her. Naked now, the expanse of his muscled chest drew her. Feeling deliciously wicked and insatiably curious, she kissed him there, finding his small nipples with her tongue. The shudders that ran through him excited her even more and emboldened her. Gently she nipped him with her teeth.

  It was like throwing gasoline on a smoldering fire. Almost before she realized it, he swept her up in his arms and marched with her toward her bedroom.

  She had always wanted to drive a man crazy. It seemed she had succeeded.

  16

  The storm growled outside, rain spattering the windows, and lightning occasionally dispelling the gloom, but Mary hardly noticed. Curled up in Sam’s arms, she felt more content than she ever had in her life. Their lovemaking had been spectacular, and now every inch of her body felt languid.

  Sam seemed to feel the same way, for he had hardly moved since he had cuddled her close to him. He wasn’t sleeping, which surprised her a little. Chet had always slept afterward. But Sam was awake, breathing restfully, his eyes half open. His embrace hadn’t slackened at all; indeed, he held her as if he wanted to be sure she didn’t try to slip away.

  The moment felt so beautifully luxurious, and
Mary smiled into Sam’s shoulder. Perfect peace. Why couldn’t it always be this way?

  Because, said a nasty little voice in her head, you haven’t been honest with him. You haven’t told him about yourself. And you know when you do he’ll bail out as fast as he can. Just like Chet did.

  A sharp pang of fear pierced her, but she forced it away. Life had given her little enough joy, and she wasn’t going to ruin what she was feeling now by worrying about the ultimate cost. Not over this. This was too precious, and it was worth every moment of heartache she was sure to face.

  She wasn’t often the type who refused to act according to perceived consequences, and it wasn’t a behavior she was likely to indulge often, but when life handed her a bowl of cherries like this, she was going to eat as many as time allowed.

  Sam stirred, turning toward her so they lay face-to-face, her head resting on his upper arm. He kissed her forehead softly, then gave her a gentle squeeze.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “And so passionate.”

  Pleased, she wiggled against him. “You bring out the devil in me.”

  He gave a throaty chuckle. “In this case, I’d say that’s a good thing.”

  “I think so.” She kissed his chest and looked up at him, but all she could see was his chin. Her own cheeks felt pleasantly tender from the rubbing of his beard stubble, and her body ached in delicious ways. If only this day would never end.

  He spoke. “This is a perfect day for snuggling like this.”

  “Cozy,” she agreed, listening to the rumble of thunder and the splatter of rain. Not much rain, just occasional smatters of large drops against her windows. But dark and thundery, and nice to be inside with nowhere to go. Nice to be inside with a lover.

  “Much better than being on the boat,” he said, a laugh in his voice.

  “Oh, definitely. Much better than cleaning the cobwebs out of the garage.”

  “Was that what you were planning to do?”

  She giggled. “Yes. During the school year I’m so busy I fall behind on things. Summer is for catching up.”

  “With cobwebs.”

  “Among other things.”