by JC Szot
Kelly had thought at first that he may make a physical overture, but Steve had never laid a hand on her, with the exception of gestures of general affection—a hug, a gentle pat on the back. The thought of him being gay flitted through her mind more than once, but he’d been married. That doesn’t mean anything.
The sound of Steve’s boots moving through the underbrush directed Kelly’s attention back. His arms were full of thick, broken branches and kindling. Steve dropped the wood on the ground near the fire pit. He wiped his hands down the front of his jeans. He faced her, jerking stands of hair out of his eyes.
“That ought to hold you. I gotta get going. I wanna check the dumpster behind the Panda Bear. They always throw a lot of stuff out at the end of the week,” he told her. “You gonna be okay?” Kelly nodded, feeling a wave of emotion roll through her. Steve bent down and lifted his backpack, feeding his arms through the straps. He smiled, his eyes darting between hers.
“Thanks.” Her voice was thick. Kelly leaned into him, kissing his cheek. Faint whiskers were already pushing through his skin despite the fact that he’d shaved while they were at the truck stop. “I was going to heat some stuff up, will you stay?” she asked, suddenly not wanting him to leave.
“Nah, you go ahead, and you’re welcome.” His mouth tipped with a subtle smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow. If I find anything good, I’ll come back before sunup and drop it off.”
Steve directed his footsteps toward the graveled lot of Union Gas and Propane. Kelly watched his figure recede into a charcoal dusk that began to coat the sky. The faint line of the day’s sun still sat on the edge of the horizon, shooting an autumn-orange glow into the clouds.
Kelly started her fire, nestling the cans between two rocks. When the contents began to bubble, she put on her gloves and removed the cans from the fire. Rummaging in her backpack, she found a plastic fork and stirred the tomatoes and beans.
After eating, she trekked to the restroom to wash up and brush her teeth. It was one thing not to have clean clothes every day, but Kelly was religious about washing and taking care of her teeth. Who knew if she’d ever sit in a dentist’s chair again?
Thoughts like this always resulted in a panic attack. How long could she do this? She should try and look for a job. It couldn’t be anything like the one she had. It would have to be some kind of service work until she got on her feet. A homeless woman couldn’t primp for any type of clerical job. She needed to start somewhere so she could work her way out of this hole.
Kelly often wondered whether Steve wanted to try and dig his way out. He’d been doing this for much longer than she. Maybe he was content. He’d told her once that after a while, the things you thought you couldn’t live without were eventually forgotten. He said the less you owned, the less you had to clean and take care of.
Kelly was still in mourning, missing the warmth of home, the smells, and the safety that a solid four walls provided. Two things that topped her list were a hot bubble bath and clean, crisp linens. The way a silk slip slides over your skin when getting dressed for a respectable job, the luxury of makeup. Lipstick and powder were her favorite cosmetics. Kelly could almost feel the softness of the translucent face powder she used to use daily. She could really use a pair of tweezers right about now, she mused.
The air transitioned, pushing the night temperature through the trees. Kelly sat huddled in front of the fire, warming herself before she had to sprinkle dirt over the flames and get into the tent. A set of headlights had her quickly rising to her feet. Who’s here now! She quickly scooped up handfuls of dirt and pebbles that Steve had collected for her and threw it on the fire. The flames died. Red coals glimmered inside the ring of stones.
“Jesus Christ,” she hissed, annoyed that she had to prematurely smother a healthy fire. Kelly slowly walked toward the edge of the woods. A car door slammed. Footsteps crunched over gravel. Movement triggered the sensor lights, illuminating the parking lot. Her jaw dropped. It was him again. This time he had two large cups of coffee in a cardboard carrier with a small paper bag wedged in between. What the hell does he want?
Noting the change of his wardrobe had her heart pounding into the back of her throat. There was no suit this time. His long legs were sheathed in denim. A heavy, red knitted sweater pulled across his broad chest. As her gaze journeyed down to his feet, she was greeted with a pair of rugged boots. The fact that he was dressed for the elements told her that he’d planned this excursion, and quite carefully.
Chapter Ten
Frustrated he’d tripped the lights, Drake quickly darted into the woods, stopping as soon as the trees enveloped him. He could see her. Kelly was on her feet, on full alert. He felt her stare. It burned through him, making his head spin with questions. He knew nothing about her, yet needed to see her again, stand close to her and really look at her. The faint, twinkling light of her fire had disappeared, like flipping off a light switch. She lives here. All thoughts of Nina storming out of his condo were forgotten like a bad dream.
Drake bit down on his lower lip. Unease prickled through him. Dealing with Kelly wouldn’t be the same as other women he’d dealt with. He was a businessman, fully capable of selling. Drake latched onto that idea, confident that he’d be able to make the modifications that were needed with this type of pitch.
Her lovely image took shape as he moved through the foliage. Kelly was tiny, bundled up in a fleece pullover. Her hair was pulled back again, her face hidden by shadows. He took a few more cautious steps before her voice echoed through the trees, her tone assertive.
“What do you want?”
Drake noted the hint of hysteria she tried to bury. He didn’t want to scare her. He stopped and answered her back.
“I’m here to see you, not hurt you. I’d like for us to have coffee. I also have a pint of brandy and a few cookies. Is it safe to approach?” Drake added a trace of sarcasm, hoping to win her over. It never worked with Nina, but this woman was of a different breed, a breed Drake wanted to experience more of.
His insides cooled as he sucked more oxygen into his flaming body. The draw was maddening. What the hell is it? He continued to move toward her. Words resounded through the air as the outline of her shadow became sharper. Drake stopped, standing within three feet of her.
“You don’t owe me anything.” Her tone of voice was jarring, but Drake pressed on.
“Who said anything about owing?” Drake answered. He could see her shifting her feet, her body language restless and confused.
“Thank you for the hamburger, by the way,” her voice softer.
“You’re welcome, Kelly. Now, this coffee’s getting cold,” Drake said, hungering for her consent after speaking her name.
“Okay,” her reply huffed. Drake smiled, happy with himself. She turned her back as he followed her, excited to be visiting her as well as her campsite.
A tent came into view. Smoke from the residual fire hung in the air. The woodsy burn tickled his nasal passages. Drake waited, their smoky breaths filling the silence. She faced him. Her eyes were skittish. She licked her lips, making his stomach flutter. Drake spoke, choosing his words carefully. He handed her one of the coffee cups.
“I’m sorry I made you put out your fire,” he said. Her hand reached for the coffee, quickly recoiling back into her own space after grabbing the cup. “Why don’t you let me restart it for you,” Drake offered.
“Sure,” Kelly said, stepping back and waving him toward the woodpile. “Um…” her voice wavered. “Your name, I’m sorry, I forget.”
“Drake.” He glanced at her, giving her his best smile.
Drake pushed the fresh, damp soil to the side with the toe of his boot, clearing the fire pit of debris. He walked toward the woodpile and picked up a log and some twigs. Without having to ask, Kelly handed him a lighter. The flames resurrected themselves, darting into the night sky. Her meek voice drifted through the quiet.
“Thanks. Take a seat.” She gestured to a nearby rock.
Drake sat down, feeling the chilled granite seep through his jeans. He handed her the small paper bag parcel. Drake set the cardboard carrier down on the ground and sipped his coffee, watching her sift through the contents.
“Brandy,” she said, relief in her voice, her lids lowering. Her eyes were almond-shaped and sleepy. Her gaze melted through him, a beautiful green like beach grass.
“It’ll keep you warm,” Drake whispered.
Her shapely lips widened into a lovely smile. “You don’t have to do this.” She shook her head, her mouth now pursed with uncertainty.
“I realize that,” he answered with a grin. “I wanted to do it. Please don’t make a big deal out of it,” he insisted.
Her features changed, hardening. “I don’t want you feeling sorry for me,” she said defensively.
Drake laughed, his nerves tightening. “I don’t, really. It’s just that since that night we met, out there, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His confession was hesitant. Drake’s declaration hung between them.
Kelly frowned, opening the small bottle of brandy, avoiding his gaze. “Come on,” she said, challenging him. Drake could see the whites of her eyes rolling. “I’m a nobody…who’s got nothing.”
“No one’s a nobody, everyone’s somebody,” Drake told her. He let his testimony sink in as she poured a splash of the amber liquor into her cup. Kelly replaced the plastic lid and took a cautious sip.
“God, that’s good,” she confessed, her tone purring.
“Good.” He reached for the bottle as Kelly passed it back to him. He thought he smelled her, a faint floral fragrance mixing with the earthy scent of burning wood and fallen leaves.
They sipped their coffee in silence. The crinkling of the paper bag took the place of any words they both might’ve been afraid to voice. The cookies were soft and still warm. They melted on Drake’s tongue. The Sugar Château was a gourmet bakery in Cypress Hill. It was the best.
“You obviously have money. I’m sure there are quite a few women sashaying under your nose. I mean…look at me.” Her laughter was hoarse. Her eyes lowered over furrowed brows.
Kelly’s cold words startled him. Her candidness sliced through his heart, but Drake wouldn’t be deterred. He leaned back on the rock, crossing his legs. He set the coffee between his knees.
“I have looked at you. Don’t you get it?” Drake gulped the coffee, letting it scald his throat. He let the open ended-question settle between them for a moment, and then continued. “Yeah, money isn’t my problem. I’ll explain what my issue is?” Drake asked, reaching for another cookie when Kelly tipped the bag in his direction, her expression curious. Drake took a bite, seeing if she would hang on his words. Her eyes held his, kicking the door to his thoughts open. He’d gotten her attention. Drake opened that door wide, allowing her into his world.
“What could possibly be the problem?” Kelly snickered.
“Wealthy people aren’t real,” Drake told her. Kelly’s head tilted, her forehead lined with bewilderment. “I’m so tired of all the pretentious bullshit. I’m sick of selfishness and greed. No one has any empathy…”
Kelly’s voice rose, plowing over his revelation. “Are you real?” she asked, her tone cool. A thin wrinkle deepened between her eyes.
“Yes, I am. I’m me, drowning in a sea of snobbishness. I’m surrounded by masks that are three feet thick,” Drake told her, trying to explain. “People always think money is the route to all sorts of grandiose things. It’s a fucked-up misconception.” Drake crushed his cup in his hand, tossing it into the fire. Flames licked the edges, curling the paper into charred dust.
Kelly’s voice cut through the crackling of the fire. “Don’t make me your mission.” She stood.
Drake looked up at her. The fire brightened her beautifully angled jaw, turning her skin to gold. Her cheeks were flushed with a candy pink. Misty breaths curled out of her mouth. Drake rose to his feet.
“I’m going to say this one more time,” Drake said, his voice cool and flat. He stepped closer, rounding the fire, seeing her wide and shiny eyes. The golden strands of her hair gleamed. Escaped tendrils fell over her hollowed cheekbones. He wanted to grab that ponytail and pull it. “You’re not my agenda. You’re also not my next tax write-off for charity either. All I wanted to do when I got out of college was be successful. If I’d known that I’d have to extract a piece of myself and become a different person, a man with shallow values, forced to wear a disguise and forget who I am, then I wouldn’t have bothered.” Drake gasped for breath.
“I lost everything and now have nothing,” Kelly reminded him.
“You have everything,” Drake said, his voice raspy. “You just don’t realize it yet. Let me show you,” Drake whispered, his chest tight with an assault of feelings he never saw coming.
“You don’t even know me,” Kelly stressed.
“I know this is real…because I feel it. I can see it, too.” His words died on a sigh. “That’s why I want to get to know you better. I don’t want the things you’re thinking of, things you don’t have. I’ve got plenty, enough for both of us, in fact. I need the real.” Drake held her with his hard stare. His urge was mounting, the preoccupation he’d battled. Drake couldn’t wait to succumb to it all, and breaking it off with Nina was only the beginning. Now he needed to fight the next war, and that was convincing Kelly that she may very well belong with him, and to give it a try.
Chapter Eleven
It was all too crazy, but he remembered her name. The dark, gelled strands of his hair shined in the fire’s light. His eyes looked black. A light layer of growth shadowed his masculine face. He had a few inches on her, but their stare was level, nose to nose.
His cologne mirrored the woods, rich and pungent like the cedar shavings he probably kept in his clothes closet. Kelly’s eyes dipped down to his mouth. His lips were thin, but nicely shaped. A dimple recessed in his cheek. What more could she say? He was determined, probably a man who always got what he wanted—but then again, he’d told her different.
It sounded as if a requirement of his wealth meant surrounding himself with the class of people he’d just accurately described. Penalized for his success maybe? Kelly assumed that that was what a lucrative salary got you. Everything had a price.
His body was leaning into hers. Whether it was his own heat or that of the fire, she felt him. His presence singed everything around them. His breath wafted across her lips, smelling like sugared coffee. When his eyes merged into one through the window of her vision, Kelly squeezed her eyes closed.
His lips pillowed against hers. There were no hands, only their mouths connecting. Insecurity wrapped around her. Do I smell? Thank God I brushed my teeth. His tongue glided against her lower lip. Her pulse jumped, pushing the blood through her veins like a gushing river. His lips loosened. She was hesitant to open her mouth against his, but Drake kept prodding, coaxing her gently. Their mouths parted, their tongues mating, tasting the other.
A low groan resounded from his throat. He had her body answering. He was lifting her off her feet, defying gravity. A ground that she usually felt beneath the soles of her boots had now suddenly given way.
It’d been a long time since she’d had any contact with a man. So long the memory could barely be recalled. It was before her mother’s mind had been corroded by dementia, before her father had given up, before her savings had dwindled, hoping for that last horse to deliver the big, winning pot.
Drake’s hand now cupped her cheek, his palm warm and smoother than any other that’d ever touched her. His tongue washed the inside of her mouth with slow, tender strokes. The kiss swept her away, flooding her with a feeling that was so enamoring, it frightened her. Reservation had her pulling back. The cool night air filled the tiny space between their faces. Her hand flew up to her mouth. He stepped back, his eyes narrowed, glazed with heat and a seriousness that shocked Kelly to the core.
“Think on that and I’ll be back.” His tone was smoky.
Kelly sagged back into the trunk of a nearby tree, watching the outline of his shadow vanish into the night.
* * * *
She couldn’t sleep. Drake’s kiss had wired her body. Her womanly parts were wide awake and throbbing. He’d left her aching and hungry for more. After dozing on and off, Kelly gave in to the blooming sunrise that began to trickle through the trees. She started to clean up her campsite when she heard Steve’s whistle echo through the peaceful morning.
He had a large brown bag in his hand. Food usually excited her, but this morning she had a different kind of hunger. I don’t even want to eat!
Kelly folded up the tent and shoved it into the canvas bag, stashing it into the hole where she hid all of her personal items. Steve’s breaths curled out of his mouth in steamy ribbons. He stopped at the fire pit and sat down on the rock Drake had occupied hours before.
“Good morning, soldier,” Steve said, his tone cheery. A wide grin spread across his mouth. “I’ve got surprises.” His words connected like a song. “Wait until you see this.” He dug through his bag of goodies. “So, how was your first night in your new accommodations?” Steve asked.
“Nice. That tent is warm.” Kelly sat down next to him. “It’s cold this morning,” she moaned, rubbing her hands together.
“It was a low of fifty-one. Temps are changing, it’s good we got you that tent. Now look at this.” Steve handed her a large container of what looked to be wonton soup. The heat penetrated into her fingers as she grabbed the container.
“How’d you keep this hot?” Kelly asked, lifting the lid. The scent of salty, warm broth warmed her nose.
“I’ve got my connections.” Steve winked, handing her a plastic spoon.
The soup was warm and soothing. Her stomach was still rolling with the aftermath of Drake’s kiss. Kelly’s mind was crammed with questions. Why her? When would Drake be back? How does one date a homeless person? Steve noticed her withdrawn behavior, calling her on it before they finished their Oriental breakfast.