by S. R. Grey
“Maybe this morning,” I reply. “But tell me again. I never get tired of hearing it.”
“I love you,” she says.
Three simple words composed of three syllables. How amazing it never ceases to be when I hear them pass Jaynie’s lips. Those words hold the power to lift me up, to soothe my soul, and to make me a better man.
And that’s what Jaynie deserves—the best me that I can be.
Jaynie
It takes some fancy talking, but I finally succeed in convincing Flynn that we should ditch the sandwich shop for a couple hours and go out and play in the snow.
“Are you crazy?” he says initially. “I walked from the bus stop, remember? It’s not only a pain to get around in all that snow, but it’s freaking cold as hell out there.”
“Oh, come on.” I tug at him, urging him up from the sofa. “Live a little. We can wear lots of layers. And besides, it’s April. This is probably the last big snow till next year.”
“How can I argue with reasoning like that,” he then says.
Fifteen minutes later, bundled up and ready for the Arctic, we find ourselves outside in a wintry wonderland. The snow still falls, fast and furious, but we’re making the most of it. No traffic in the streets means we’re able to start an impromptu snowball fight, right outside the front of the shop.
I get in a few nice hits right away, then I zigzag my way across the road to the other side. When Flynn proceeds to lob a succession of icy white balls my way, I run around the side of the building and make a getaway.
My plan is to flee to the nearby park.
“Hey, no fair,” I hear him calling out to me as I run off, his voice fading as I break into a sprint. “You’re way out of firing range.”
“You’re damn right I am,” I holler back.
I don’t know if he hears me, but I pick up speed, just in case he’s gaining on me. It’s hard to see with all the falling snow.
Sure enough, Flynn, who is far faster than I am, catches up to me in no time, just as I’m about to enter the park.
Giving up hope that I can escape him—at least for the moment—I spin around and fall into his arms. “Okay, you win,” I say, breathless, as I peer up at him.
Chuckling, he nods to the woodsy entrance. “You still want to play in the park?”
“Yeah,”—I nod—“sure.”
Leaning down like he’s about to whisper some sweet nothing in my ear, he murmurs, “I call for a rematch in the park. And maybe, if I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you win this time.”
“Oh, really?” I twist out of his grasp and bump his hip with mine. “I see how you are. You think I can’t win against you fairly. You think that you’re way faster.”
He cocks his head to the side, like he’s finding this whole exchange amusing. “I am way faster, Jaynie,” he says smugly. “You simply can’t win on your own.”
“Pfft, we’ll see about that,” I scoff. And then I take off, leaving him in the dust. Or in the snow, as it is.
“Jaynie, Jaynie,” I hear him call out.
I run faster, but it’s not easy to gain traction in all the snow. It’s far heavier in the park than out in the streets. My boots carry me as fast as they can, however, and I make a few elusive moves, ducking under branches heavy with snow, and to areas where the pines are thick and Flynn won’t easily see me.
Still, I can hear him laughing not all that far way. I don’t even know if he’s searching for me at the moment. I think he’s just feeling free, like me, seeing as we’ve never had carefree fun like this. Even when we snuck off at the Lowry place, there was always the fear of getting caught and facing retribution.
But not anymore.
I stop for a minute and just peer up at the night sky. Snowflakes land on my face, melting as they do. A few even hit my eyes, making me blink. I put out my tongue and find out what snow tastes like. “Nothing,” I decide. “It tastes like nothing.”
“Oh, Jaynie,” Flynn sings out, with a tone that indicates he clearly believes he’s won. “Looks like I’ve got you now.”
“Hey, think fast,” I yell as I lob a handful of snow at him.
I take off, and the race is on.
The snow is so deep where I’ve turned that soon I’m slipping and sliding down a pristine-white slope that looks like it leads down to the river. Ironically, it’s the same river that brought me to Lawrence nearly six months ago.
Wow, this night is so different than that one.
Back then I was running for my life, whereas this night, I’m running for fun.
With a feeling of freedom that leaves me dizzy, I clamber down to the river. I sense Flynn is not far behind, but he’s letting me enjoy this moment.
Soon enough, however, I hear him laughing.
He’s definitely really closing in, so I juke left, then right.
And then I hear nothing.
“Hey, where’d you go?” I say as I spin around.
I see then that Flynn has fallen not too far away from where I’ve stopped. It looks like he may have slipped and crashed into a giant snow drift.
“Ha, serves you right,” I call over to him as I place my hands on my hips.
I’m totally teasing, but when he starts to groan, his falling isn’t so funny anymore.
I run over to him. “Crap, Flynn, are you really hurt?”
“Ow, ow, fuck yes,” I am told.
Flynn bends his leg, bringing his knee to his chest. He grabs at it and says, “I think I hurt myself really bad here. I twisted something, for sure. And fuck…it hurts like a mother.”
I drop to my knees and cover his hand with mine. “God, I am so sorry, Flynn. Do you think if I try to support your weight you can stand up?”
“I don’t know,” he says, grimacing. “Maybe.”
“Just tell me what to do,” I cry out, feeling helpless.
He smacks at the snow on the far side of his prone body and says, “Why don’t you try putting one foot over here.”
This is puzzling already, but a say, “All right.”
Unsure how it is even remotely helpful, I place my booted foot where he indicated, leaving me hovering over his body. At that weird angle, I have no choice but to hold myself up so I don’t fall on top of him.
“Now what should I do?” I ask.
“Keep that foot there, and lower yourself to your knee that’s on this side of me.”
I do as he asks.
And then I’m saying, “Um, this is really awkward.” I frown down at him. “Tell me again how this is helping you get up?”
He ignores me and continues with more of his convoluted directions. “Okay, now place your hands up on either side of my head.”
Once I comply with that directive, I’m straddling him.
And that’s when he begins to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I say. “I thought you were hurt.”
“Gotcha,” he murmurs as he reaches up to caress my cold cheek.
“Flynn”—I smack his chest—“you’re such an ass.”
I’m not mad, not in the least. This is the kind of silly fun we never had in the past. And soon I am laughing right along with him. When I’m near hysterics, I fall to my side into the mushy snow.
Once I’ve recovered from my laughing attack, I roll to my side in time to catch Flynn making a snow angel.
As his legs and arms plow through the heavy snow, I prop myself up on an elbow and ask him what I already know, “What the hell are you doing, you foolish guy?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” he volleys back.
Before I can answer, he says, “Just get over here and join me. We can make a snow angel couple.”
I join him without hesitation, as I’m already reminded of one of our best memories from the past.
“This is like the day you made the pine-needle angel,” I say, a reference to one of the first times we were ever alone together.
There was a place up in the woods on the Lowry property that we designa
ted early on as all ours. A beautiful copse of tall pines encircled our secret spot, with soaring cliffs nearby. We dreamt of escape up there. And then I did escape when I jumped from one of the cliffs. But before that time came, that was where Flynn and I would go to shut out the world.
Someday I want to go back there with him, to our secret spot. Someday I know we’ll need to go back, in order to move on.
But until that day, we have the here and now. And Flynn is saying, “This is better than the day I made the pine-needle angel.”
I slow my movements to a stop. “Why do you think that?” I ask, curious.
He sits up. “This time we’re not hiding. There’s no need to run. We have nothing to escape. This is just you and me doing what we want.”
He’s right. He’s so damn right.
“It feels good, Flynn,” I say as I stretch my arms way above me. “It feels really, really good. God, I want to stay out here and play with you all night.”
Leaning toward me, and then slowly rolling on top of me, he whispers seductively, “So, let’s stay and play.”
Flynn
Unfortunately, it’s too damn cold to stay in the park and play. Well, let’s just say it’s too chilly for what I have in mind.
Once I have Jaynie back in our room, however, all bets are off.
Wet, snow-covered clothes are peeled from our bodies and scattered across the hardwood floor. There’s giggling and fumbling as we fall onto our bed.
Damn, Jaynie’s damp skin pressed to my own cool flesh feels so fucking erotic. There’s just something about being cold in some places…and really warm in others.
“Are you warm enough, baby?” I whisper as I press my cheek to hers.
“Mmm, I am, Flynn. I am.” She writhes beneath me.
“Are you wet?” My voice is raw and husky when I ask her that. She groans, and I add, “You are, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she hisses.
“Mmm…” I let my fingers roam, with a verbal promise of “Let’s make you even wetter.”
Minutes later, all I hear are her cries of, “There, Flynn, there… Yes, touch me like that.”
Smug in the knowledge that I know Jaynie’s body as well as my own, I bring her to where she needs to be in no time at all.
But I’m not done yet.
I then trail kisses down her body till I reach her heat. And then it’s wet on wet—me licking, tasting, and just straight-up loving my girl.
Her hands find purchase in my hair, where she grabs hold and pulls at the strands. Hard, then harder, she tugs, her hips quivering under my hands as I give her what I have to offer—pleasure.
“Almost, Flynn,” she chants. “I’m… almost… there.”
And then she is there, quivering and quaking. I move up her body afterward till we’re face-to-face.
One shift of my hips and we’re joined.
But it’s not enough.
I press my hips to her and push myself in as far as I can. “I want you, I love you, I need you,” Jaynie pants in response.
I want and need her too. “I love you,” I say as we move as one. It’s smooth, so smooth, because we’re good at this.
I am close, so close. So, when Jaynie pleads, “Harder. Go harder and faster, Flynn,” I fall over the edge.
Afterward, I hold her in my arms, this beautiful girl, this love of my life.
The snow continues to pile up outside, leaving our little bedroom window painted in streaks of powdery white.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she tells me as we both peer out the window. “I like being snowbound with you.”
Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head. “I know what you mean. It feels like…” I search for the right words. “I don’t know… I guess it kind of feels like we’re the last two people on the planet.”
“It does,” Jaynie agrees, laughing lightly. “And I like that.”
“Me too,” I reply.
I decide then and there that this is another one of those moments I’ll need to hold on to—this beautiful memory of how Jaynie and I played and loved on a late-season snowy night, a night where it was only us.
We had the world to ourselves that evening, if only for a few blissful hours.
The snow stops the next day, but our little world of Lawrence is still a wintry wonderland. The ground, blanketed in white, sparkles and glows under the sun of a new day. Like woodland creatures emerging from too-long hibernation, people venture out, bleary-eyed.
They’re weary at first, but soon they come to life. By afternoon, the sandwich shop is flooded with customers. It’s so busy that I have to grab an apron and help Jaynie.
“This is a first,” I remark.
“It is,” Jaynie agrees. She then hands me an order pad and pen. “Now get to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Things eventually slow down, and when we finally have some time to ourselves, Jaynie says, “Wow, I think that was finally the last customer.”
“We must’ve sold thousands today,” I reply.
“That doesn’t happen often. Bill will be happy.”
“Yeah” I agree, “he will.”
She then wants to know, “Did you make a lot in tips?”
I fish out a handful of bills and some coins from my apron pocket. Depositing the money on the counter, I say, “Between this, your tips, and the money I’ve been bringing in from my other job, we should be able to buy a car real soon.”
“Damn.” Jaynie shakes her head. “I can barely believe it.”
“Believe it, babe.”
“Flynn, this is great.”
Smiling, she nudges me out of the way so she can reach the coffee pot on the shelf behind us. As she pours herself a well-deserved cup of java, and me one as well, she states, “Let’s celebrate with some good strong coffee.”
“Sounds good to me,” I laugh.
As we hit the caffeine, Jaynie remarks, “It’s been a long time since we’ve worked side by side like this.”
“It has,” I agree.
“It was fun… Whoa, hold up a minute. This coffee is way too strong. Can you hand me two of those.” She gestures to a bowl of creamers.
I hand her what she wants, and then say, “Back to what we were talking about. I like working side by side with you. It’s how we work best.” With a wicked grin, I amend, “But then again, we also tend to work pretty well with you on top…or me over you—”
“Flynn!” She smacks my arm, but she can’t hide her grin, or her blush.
Just as I’m about to pull her in for one hell of a hug, someone comes up behind us and clears their throat. Turning simultaneously, we find ourselves face-to-face with Detective Silver.
“Hey!” Jaynie exclaims, still cheery from our goofing around. “What brings you over to our little neck of the woods? Good news about the excavation, I hope.”
Sighing, the detective takes a seat at the counter. “More like no news,” he replies solemnly.
I watch as my girl’s face falls. “Oh,” she murmurs.
The detective asks for a cup of strong coffee, which we have plenty of. I pour him a huge serving, ’cause he sure looks like he could use the pick-me-up.
“You want cream or sugar?” I ask, holding the mug aloft.
“No. Black is fine,” he tells me.
I set the coffee down in front of the him, then grab a stool out from the corner behind the counter. Once I’ve plopped my ass smack dab across from him, I rub my hands together. I have questions for this man, and lots of them. The first of which is, “How in the hell can there be no goddamn news on the case?”
I’m riled now, and Jaynie sidles up beside me to calm me down. Placing her hand on my arm, she says softly, “Flynn, please. I’m sure the detective is doing all he can.”
Peering across the counter, she surprises the hell out of me when she puts him on the spot. “You are doing everything possible to solve this case, right?” she asks pointedly.
I resist the urge to laug
h. Jaynie sure has come a long way. Watching her challenge the detective proves just how much progress she’s made. We both have really made giant strides lately.
“Of course I’m doing everything I can to wrap up this case.” Detective Silver clears his throat. “We all are. The state wants the Debbie Canfield case closed as soon as possible.”
He takes a quick sip of coffee, all evasive-like, and Jaynie frowns. “Don’t you mean the state wants the case solved? Not just closed, right?”
“No, I’m afraid ‘closed’ is what they’re asking for now.”
“That doesn’t inspire confidence it will ever be resolved,” Jaynie mumbles.
Tiring of all this double-talk, I set down my cup with a clatter and say, “Just lay it on the line, Detective. What are you trying to tell us?”
He takes a sip of coffee, then releases this long, drawn-out sigh. “I’m sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news, but the sad fact remains that we’ve excavated every inch of that old barn. And as of this afternoon, we’ve found absolutely nothing.”
I raise a brow. “And that means…?”
“It means, Flynn, that if we don’t find some evidence soon, this case is in real danger of being closed for good. Pretty soon I’ll be forced to write up a report. I’ll have no choice but to state that the girl, Debbie, must have run away, despite her last known whereabouts being at the Lowry house.”
“Crap,” Jaynie mumbles.
Taking another sip of coffee, and following a thoughtful pause, Detective Silver continues. “Perhaps this girl did indeed meet an untimely end. But without some kind of hard evidence, there’s no way to build a case against Allison Lowry. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
“Come on, though. We can’t just give up.” Jaynie’s voice is verging on panicked. “I just know… I mean, I actually feel like it was Allison who hurt that girl.”
Eyeing her intently, the detective says, “Remember what we talked about last time we were together. We can still build a case against Allison, for whatever it is she did to you. Assault and battery may not keep her behind bars forever, but it’d certainly tie things up and preclude her from an early release this summer.”