Any Day Now

by Robyn Carr

  Her life had been so chaotic back in the drinking days, jumping from one crisis to the next. And at the moment, she was feeling unsteady, as if all that messy uncertainty was creeping back. In the end it was only the need to reclaim order in her mind and her heart that moved her to do what she did.

  “Do you know where Conrad lives?”

  “Course I do,” Sully said. “Want a little map?”

  “I think I’d like to drop in on him, make sure everything is all right, make sure I haven’t done anything to...” To what? Drive him into the arms of another woman?

  “I don’t know what’s got you riled up and I don’t think I want to know,” Sully said. He drew her a simple map on the back of a small paper bag. “Go see him and get whatever it is taken care of.”

  “Do you think he’d be upset by me just dropping in on him?”

  “Well, he drops in on me all the time, so that would be kind of narrow-minded, wouldn’t it?”

  “I’ll take Molly with me. She loves to go in the car.”

  Sierra set out on what was to be a short and beautiful drive just north of Timberlake. The summer sun was about to start setting, the hillsides were lush, the late afternoon warm and a little sultry from the humidity. The roads weren’t very well marked but she only had to make a few turns and Sully had gotten the distances between them very accurate. She found herself in a rural neighborhood—the houses spaced by a couple of acres. And at the drive to Connie’s house there was a sign. Boyle.

  She drove toward it; it was a sweet house. It was a small ranch with a garage and a circular drive in front. There was a very small porch at the front door and a couple of potted plants by the steps. There was a bay window, the shutters open; there didn’t appear to be any lights on in the house. It wasn’t dark because the sun was just beginning to sink in the west, but it looked as though no one was home. That gave Sierra unspoken permission to just sit and take in the house. The house told the story of a man who had crafted his own living space; a man who took pride in his home. Yet this was just a young, single man; a physical and darling man who lived life on the edge.

  Did he want a place to come home to that would embrace him?

  The lawn was well cared for and the house was brick with wood trim. Like many Colorado houses, there was a screen door to let the cool spring and summer air flow through. She imagined there might be a kitchen window over the sink that would be open to let the breeze escape. There were some flowers planted along the edge of the front walk and a freestanding brick mailbox that matched the brick of the house. Details were obviously labored over—brown brick with matching garden border and brick circular drive, flawless white window trim that appeared meticulously maintained, edging along the drive. The house was surrounded by trees, many of them aspen, their silver leaves twinkling in the breeze.

  Molly came up into the front seat, sitting next to Sierra. They looked at Connie’s house together. To Sierra, a house represented so much. Stability, safety, family. It symbolized something she thought she might never have, something she’d always longed for. She came here for the nearest thing to family she could have—Cal and Maggie. And she hit the jackpot—she got Sully and the Crossing, too. And, she reluctantly admitted, throw in Moody, Frank and Enid. And Molly. If this was all she ever got, she could be content.

  Looking at that humble yet rich home, she found herself happy for Conrad. She leaned back in the seat and her hand wandered to Molly’s head, petting. Obviously Connie was not at home. Or maybe he was asleep. Asleep next to a beautiful brunette? Nah—there was no other car there. There would be no cause to hide a visitor’s car in the garage. She had her windows down and enjoyed the cool early-evening breeze while gazing at the fruits of Connie’s labors. And fantasizing what it would be like to have a real home.

  She heard an engine and turned in her seat to see Connie pull his big truck up to the garage. He got out and came immediately over to the pumpkin. Sierra opened her door to get out and Molly instantly escaped but she ran right to Connie, jumping on him.

  “Hey there, hey,” he said to the dog, massaging her behind the ears, calming her.

  Sierra shook her head with a small laugh—Molly loved Conrad. Molly was such a tramp—she gave herself to the big man. And after a bit of canine foreplay, Molly sat like a good girl, looking up at him adoringly. The little traitor.

  “Sierra, what are you doing here?”

  “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” she said. “I went to the firehouse to see you and you had gone. You weren’t at the Crossing today and I called you and there was no answer.”

  “I was at the Crossing,” he said. “I just came from there. Sully said he’d told you how to get to my house. I came right away. I thought I might pass you on the road.”

  “You were at the Crossing...?”

  “I’m there all the time. Or haven’t you noticed?”

  “I realized I was taking that for granted because the first time you weren’t there, I didn’t even have your phone number so I could call and see if everything was all right.”

  “Sierra, everyone has my phone number!”

  “Yeah, except me. So Sully gave me the number and it went right to voice mail.”

  He yanked it out of his pocket and looked at it. “Oh, I had my ringer off. But you didn’t leave a message?” he asked. “Or a text? What’s going on with us? Why can’t we have a normal relationship?”

  “I don’t know,” she said tiredly. “It’s probably me. I told you—I’m no good at this.”

  He laid his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. “Why were you looking for me?” he asked.

  “Why’d you have your phone off?”

  “I went to see my mom,” he said. “I wasn’t planning to but I saw I could steal a couple of hours from work at the end of the day so I called her. She was free at four when she got off work. I drove to Denver to see her. I hadn’t seen her in a while. I talk to her all the time but I haven’t seen her in a month or maybe two. We just spent about an hour together, that’s all. I must’ve forgot to turn my ringer back on.”

  “Your mom?” she asked.

  “Yeah, she’s great. I’ll take you to meet her one of these days. If you want to.”

  Sierra laughed at herself, feeling foolish. “Oh, Connie,” she said.

  He rubbed the knuckle of his index finger down her cheek. “So, you were looking for me? You’ve never done that before. Should I take that as a good sign?”

  “You have no idea what I thought,” she said with some embarrassment.

  “Oh? What did you think?”

  “I saw you with that woman,” she said. “I guess I jumped to conclusions...”

  “What woman?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “Lola said that was your ex-girlfriend. You were hugging her. You must be on very good terms with her.”

  “Huh?” he asked. “Oh, you mean Alyssa? No,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t say we’re on very good terms. I mean, I behave when I see her. We were horrible to each other right after we broke up, but like I told you, that was a while ago—over two years at least. But today? She wanted to tell me something—her mom, who I always liked a lot, has cancer and she’s in the final stages. Alyssa has always been close with her mom and she was all messed up about it, which I guess anyone would be. It was terrible news and I felt sorry for her.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Oh, I’m sorry...”

  “She asked me if I’d visit her and I said, sure I would.”

  “You will?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s the decent thing to do. Like I said, she’s a very nice lady. But it had the worst effect on me, hearing that. I went back to work and couldn’t stop thinking about my mom. My mom has not had an easy life. She’s had two lousy, abusive husbands, never had an extra d
ollar to spend, but she was always there for me. You know? Always pulling for me, having long talks with me about every stupid, pissant problem I thought I had. She’s always doing a little extra for me—like making my favorite dinner if she knew it had been a big day. My brother, too—she made so many sacrifices for both of us. A lot of the time it was just me and my mom. She’s about the same age as Alyssa’s mom—not even sixty years old. Just the thought of her suddenly getting sick and dying—it just hit me. I should do more for my mom. I should at least let her know how much I appreciate her because you never know. Right?”

  “Did you tell your mom why you wanted to see her?” Sierra asked.

  “Not till I got there, but she figured out real fast that I don’t drop everything and drive to Denver unless I have something on my mind. Something I couldn’t figure out on my own. But why’d I have to do this at rush hour? I hate traffic.”

  “Oh, Connie, I’m just not used to a man like you,” she said, touching his cheek.

  “I hope that’s not a bad thing,” he said.

  “Are you feeling better now?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m not sorry you were worried, though. Thought I was going to make another run at Alyssa, did you?” he asked with an evil grin.

  “For a minute, I did,” she said with a laugh. “She’s very beautiful.”

  “So are you,” he said.

  “I’m a little woodland creature compared to her,” she said. “A gopher next to a gazelle...”

  “You’re very beautiful compared to her, not that any comparisons ever crossed my mind. Sierra, get this straight—Alyssa doesn’t tempt me. Not in the smallest way. How can I say this without sounding like an ass? I’m glad she screwed it up because now I can see it wasn’t right.” He shook his head. “I don’t even think of her as a friend.”

  “But she wants to get back together with you, doesn’t she?”

  “I don’t know. She did before but I shut that down. And if she still does—it’s not my problem. It’s not possible.”

  She just looked at his beautiful face for a moment. Molly nosed her hand, looking for a little attention. “You went to see your mom. And I thought you were with another girl.”

  “I’m flattered, but I’m really not that guy. So—since you’re here, wanna come inside?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Can Molly come, too?”

  “All your family is welcome,” he said.

  If I loved you less,

  I might be able to talk about it more.

  —Jane Austen

  Chapter 11

  CONNIE SCOOPED HER up, called to Molly, and carried Sierra over the threshold and into his house. He stopped just inside the closed door. “I guess you can tell, I wasn’t expecting company.”

  His clean laundry was dumped on the couch for folding, two pairs of running shoes and a pair of boots sat on the floor where they’d been kicked off. There was a small dinette in the breakfast nook and each one of the four chairs held up a jacket or down vest. Molly was off, nosing around the place, probably looking for something to chew on.

  “It has that lived-in look,” she said.

  “I don’t spend much time here,” he said. “Especially lately.”

  He leaned toward her until their lips were almost touching and with a gentle tongue, outlined her lips. Her arms around his neck tightened just slightly. “I wanted you in my house,” he said softly. “I want you in my bed.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” she said. “My last time was—” She didn’t finish but she did cast her eyes downward.

  Connie kissed her, softly at first, then with more pressure, yet tenderly. He pulled her lower lip between his, sucking it into his mouth. “I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t you not think about the last time? In fact, don’t think about any other time, ever. And we’ll go very slow. Very, very slow, so slow you’ll ask me to go a little faster. But I won’t. I’m just going to take my sweet time and you’re going to be in charge. I have a feeling it’s going to be good. I mean, epic.” Then he buried his lips in her neck, kissing and sucking.

  “Oh God,” she whispered.

  “It’s bound to happen one of these days,” he said. “If it doesn’t happen now, let’s at least play around a little.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She giggled.

  “Seriously, I have to touch you,” he said. “I’m not going to rush you.”

  “Okay,” she said weakly. “I’m a little nervous.”

  He gave her lips a little peck. “Me, too.”

  He carried her into the bedroom where the bed was made. “Amazing,” she said. “A bomb went off in your living room, but you made the bed?”

  “I like it that way.”

  “Have you been planning this?” she asked as he put her down.

  “Every day,” he said. He toed off his shoes and got on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms.

  “Oh-oh,” Sierra said just as Molly jumped onto the bed.

  “Not this time, Molly,” he said. “Down.”

  The silly dog did exactly as Conrad instructed.

  “You’re going to have to show me how you did that,” Sierra said.

  “Later,” he said, covering her lips with his. His hands moved from her back to her butt to her hips to her thighs and back again. He untucked her shirt and slid his big hands underneath, moaning into her mouth as he massaged her back, her belly, her breasts. Her body immediately strained against his in a movement so natural it almost took her by surprise. He lifted her shirt over her head, got rid of her bra and immediately transferred his kisses to her breasts, favoring one then the other, gently taking a nipple into his mouth.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, good idea...”

  “Told you,” he said, unzipping her shorts. He took so long in starting to slide them over her hips that she got in his way and did it herself, bringing a throaty laugh from him. He filled his big hands with her round butt, pulling her against him. He was hard as a rock and ready. And very big.

  “Oh boy,” she whispered.

  She felt him through his pants and then almost in a panic, had to get her hand on him just to be sure he was human. She unbuttoned his pants and, not taking nearly the time or care he had, shoved them out of the way. He kicked them off and rolled away just enough to get rid of his shirt. Then he pulled her against his chest and hummed.

  And here we are, she thought. Right where I want to be, pressed up against the most beautiful man, his large hands both stimulating and comforting. She was safe. She was protected. She lifted a leg onto his hip.

  “I need a condom,” he said.

  “Please.”

  “I don’t want to let go,” he said. “They’re in the drawer. Your side.”

  “I don’t want to let go, either,” she said.

  He rose over her and looked into her eyes. He smoothed back her hair. “You’re making it very hard to go slow,” he said.

  “I’m having a hard time with that myself,” she said. “Please. Suit up.”

  He leaned over her, reached for the drawer and located the condoms. He got one out of the wrapper as quickly as possible and rolled it on. Pushing her onto her back, he touched her from her shoulder to her thighs, slowly, in even strokes. Then he let his fingers slide gently between her legs, first giving that small erogenous knob a little attention, then deeper, finding her more than ready. Then he was looking into her eyes again. “Sierra, I think you want more.”

  “Oh boy, do I...”

  “I think I have to have a taste,” he said. “My mouth is watering.”

  “Not too much,” she said. “I’m not going to be able to wait for you if you do too much of that.”

  He laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. “I don’t care if you wait for me. You think I’l
l have trouble catching up?”

  He kissed his way down her body, taking his time at her breasts, licking and stroking, his finger busy in her soft center all the while. Somehow without removing his hand from her tender parts, his tongue was there. His tongue was in her while his finger worked her.

  “Oh God,” she said. And then she lost it. There was an explosion that lifted her off the bed and caused her insides to tighten and pulse. She was awash in spasms so he just went at her harder until she pressed her thighs so hard against his head, she wondered how he could breathe. It was an almost unbearably long orgasm that eventually slowed and her breath was coming hard and fast.

  Connie slowly worked his way up her body to her lips.

  “Oops,” she whispered.

  “That was nice,” he said, giving her a series of short kisses.

  “That was better than nice,” she said. She could feel him pulsing against her belly and she immediately had a hunger to have him fill her. Reaching her hand between their bodies, she began to stroke him. “Come on,” she said, spreading her legs under him. “Come on. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  “You didn’t wait,” he said, tonguing her lips apart.

  “I don’t want to wait again,” she said. “I want you.”

  He was completely still for a moment. “I like the sound of that,” he said.

  She held him in her hand and guided him until he made a slow, deep entry, then held her still for a moment. He pinched his eyes closed and seemed to luxuriate in the moment. He finally moved, his hand under her butt, his lips on hers. He lifted her to him as he took a few slow, deep strokes. Then he dived into her. Her heels dug into the bed as she pushed back against him.

  And it happened again. Her orgasm came fast and hard and he pulsed inside her, making it yet stronger and tighter. They clenched together for a long time, their bodies slick and feverish.