Out of Control

by Tory Richards

“Good, then I don’t have to waste my breath explaining what the process is,” she practically snapped. It occurred to Libby that she didn’t exactly know what the process was. Except for what little her grandmother had told her. She supposed the men knew what to do and the women just went along for the company.

  “No, ma’am,” was his polite response. He barely gave Libby a glance, pushing his foot on the pedal and taking off down Grant Street. It amused her to see there was a small lamppost at the end of each driveway, all of them lit in accordance to the rules.

  Next to them were glossy brown mailboxes, some of which were adorned with colorful mailbox covers. Once again Libby wondered how she was going to get through the evening with a hunk like Logan next to her. Why did she have to find him so attractive? She caught the scent of his aftershave, something warm and spicy, and definitely stimulating her senses. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with his sexy scent. Images of them at the pool, when his fingers had teased her, flooded her senses.

  “Allergies, ma’am?”

  He must have heard her sniffing. Libby was thankful for his assumption, feeling the heat of embarrassment crawl up her neck. “Ah, yes. Something in the air is getting to me.” Oh Lord! She might as well have come right out and told him it was his aftershave. She sensed him looking her way but ignored him, focusing instead on the scenery they passed. Not that she could see all that much.

  Libby soon found out that cart patrol consisted of driving up and down each road at a snail’s pace, much to her dismay. Once in a while, just to make things a little more exciting, she aimed her flashlight between the darkened spaces between each house as if searching for anything suspicious. Almost wishing the small ray of light would land on something to get excited about. Only nothing moved, and the monstrous shadows were nothing more than trees or lawn adornments.

  “Would you like me to take you home? I think I can handle this by myself.” Logan’s warm voice broke into Libby’s quiet thoughts. She didn’t doubt he could handle anything on his own.

  “We’re not supposed to do it alone,” she responded, appreciating the concern in his tone. “In case something happens.”

  She was thankful for the silence that followed. It amazed her how many people left their curtains open with the lights on, but then, what did they have to be frightened of? She was able to see couples in their kitchens making dinner, groups of people sitting at their dining room tables, playing cards or some other kind of game. Once, she even caught glimpses of a couple making out, for lack of a better term. Unfortunately kissing reminded her of the man sitting next to her.

  She self-consciously glanced at Logan, surprised to see the white of his teeth as he too had observed the scene. She made a disgusted sound with her tongue. “You’d think people their age would know better than to leave the curtains open.”

  A hearty laugh escaped Logan as he turned a corner. “Never had a kiss stolen at an inopportune time?”

  Of course she had! “Many times,” she admitted, turning away when she realized she’d used her natural voice. “I mean, in my younger days, of course.”

  “I’ll bet the men beat a path to your door,” Logan surprised her by saying. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been a widow?”

  Libby caught her bottom lip, trying to recall the story her grandmother was passing around. They’d come up with a couple different scenarios before deciding on one, but darned if she could remember which one. Was she the longtime friend who’d starting grade school with Margaret and kept in touch over the years, recently losing her husband to a heart attack? Or the distant relative on Margaret’s husband’s side of the family who was left a widow with no insurance and nowhere to go?

  Releasing a sigh, she decided to play it safe. “Too long,” she responded vaguely, hoping he didn’t press her for more. “What about you? Anyone special in your life?”

  Logan remained silent for so long that Libby was about to give up hope of getting an answer, until he said, “There was someone special, once, but not right now, ma’am.”

  Oh, what could she say to that? Thoughts of her failed relationship came to mind. Scott had been Libby’s prince charming. A rising young lawyer with a steady job, handsome, from a wealthy family, everything a girl could ask for in a man. Or perhaps she’d only felt that way because he’d been her first true love. Now she was sorry she’d given him her virginity.

  All at once a shadow detached itself from one of the houses, running away and drawing Libby’s attention. “Logan, wait!” She whipped the flashlight up and took aim in the direction they’d disappeared, almost losing her seat when Logan slammed on the brakes.

  “I saw him too,” he stated, sliding from behind the wheel before the vehicle came to a full stop.

  “What are you doing; where you going?” Libby whispered sharply, flashing her light in his face and causing him to squint. “We shouldn’t do anything but call the police!”

  “I’m sure it’s a neighbor. I’m just going to check it out.”

  “But…” Libby slipped from the golf cart too, and hurried to catch up with him. “What if it’s not? What if it’s a burglar? There have been a few break-ins lately or what if it’s—”

  Logan whipped around and took Libby gently by the shoulders, drawing her to a halt. “Reba, calm down or you’re going to hyperventilate. I think it’s best if you stay here, where the cell phone is. If I don’t come back in five minutes then you can call the police.”

  “You might need me,” Libby said without thinking, drawing a gentle smile from Logan.

  “Ma’am, what I need right now is to know you’re safe, by remaining here.”

  His hands were still on her shoulders and Libby’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when he gave her what was supposed to be a reassuring squeeze. Her heart literally stopped beating and she held her breath, watching his expression for any sign that he thought it was odd she was wearing shoulder pads. But all Logan did was remove his hands and turn away sprinting in the direction they saw the silhouette.

  Libby watched him disappear around the corner of the house before realizing she was holding her breath. Lord, what if it was a burglar? So far no one had been hurt. But several residents had returned home to find that someone had broken in and stolen their prescriptions, a common problem in retirement communities, according to the police. And no telling what could happen if they were caught by surprise.

  What if they were violent?

  She went back to the golf cart and began searching the supply bag for something that could be used as a weapon, just in case. The phone, maybe it could double as a gun. It was dark and would be impossible to make out that it wasn’t the real deal. But then her hand encircled a can, and she whipped out the bug spray. That could certainly be substituted for mace. The can was rusty and looked like it had been in the bag a long time, so she took off the cap and tested it to make sure that it worked.

  Without hesitation she hitched up her skirt and dashed in the direction she saw Logan run. The homes on either side of her were pitching black, which wasn’t an unusual occurrence for this time of year. A lot of the homes were used as vacation or winter homes for retirees who lived up north. As Libby dashed between the two houses she could definitely hear the sound of voices. Her eyes riveted to the house in the distance with the lights on, realizing their windows were open and it was the TV she was hearing.

  Relaxing slightly, she narrowed her eyes, searching the area for any sign of Logan. Where had he gone? She heard the snap of a twig, followed by a ruckus, and let out a small sound of alarm. She was definitely not cut out for this! Spinning around, she nearly lost her balance, and shined her flashlight wildly to see if someone was there.

  “Let me go!” she heard a youthful voice demand.

  “I will as soon as the police arrive,” Logan responded. “I think they might be interested in why you were snooping around these vacant houses.”

  “I wasn’t doing anything wrong! My grandp
arents live here and I’m just visiting,” the kid snapped.

  “Yeah? Who are your grandparents?”

  Libby remained where she was when she realized they were heading her way. Finally Logan stepped into view, dragging a young teenager by the back of his collar. The kid couldn’t have been more than thirteen, tall and lanky, his features hidden behind a curtain of stringy hair.

  “What are you lookin’ at, old lady?” he hissed when his gaze landed on Libby. He shook his head until the hair was out of his glaring eyes, every bit the defiant teen.

  “Mind your manners!” Logan barked, giving the kid a shake. “Reba, I asked you to stay back at the golf cart,” he chastised in a kind voice laced with impatience.

  Told was more like it but Libby wasn’t going to remind him of that. She focused her gaze on the kid instead, taking in his baggy jeans and stained shirt. Deciding to call his bluff she said, “Tell us where your grandparents live and we’ll take you home.” He only snorted and glanced away. Libby looked at Logan and shrugged. “I guess we’re left with no choice but to phone the police.” She turned to head back to the cart to retrieve the phone.

  “No!” She swung back around and watched as the kid hung his head low before saying in a barely audible voice, “My grandparents are the Buckleys on Carter Street. And…and I’m sorry for calling you an old lady.” He sounded thoroughly whipped, and surprisingly sincere.

  Her gaze went to Logan. “I know Joan Buckley, from coffee in the mornings. He must be telling the truth.”

  Logan gave a curt nod. “I know Carl, he plays poker with Gramps.” He gave the kid a jerk to get his attention. “We’re going to let you go this time but don’t think you’re off the hook. We’ll be calling your grandparents.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He took off running the second Logan released him. For a moment they stood watching him until the quiet became too much for Libby. She chuckled nervously. “I’ll bet we don’t see him out after dark again.”

  “Not if he’s smart,” Logan agreed with a flash of teeth.

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for this cart patrol thing, too much excitement for me.” She started walking briskly back to the cart, remembering at the last minute to alter her pace.

  Maybe she should just tell Logan to take her home. If he didn’t figure out who she was before ten o’clock came it would be a miracle. His presence unnerved her, causing Libby to forget who she was supposed to be half the time. “What time is it anyway?” she asked, fanning her face. Surely it was almost ten.

  Logan waited until they reached the front of the house where the lamppost was, then angled his wrist to check the time. “Nine, why, do you need to take a pill or something?”

  Yes, her birth control pills. “Thanks for reminding me,” she murmured under her breath.

  “Ma’am? Did you say something?”

  “Nothing.” To her mortification Libby felt one of her support stockings fall down around her ankle. She quickly bent to yank it back up, moaning with pleasure at the slight breeze that sneaked up the back of her skirt.

  The next hour was the longest one of Libby’s life.

  Chapter 6

  Libby had just slipped into a pair of white shorts when she heard the doorbell ring. She zipped them up, glad it was the weekend and she could be herself for a change. Her eyes darted to the clock on her dresser as she rushed through her bedroom. When the doorbell rang a second time she picked up speed. Her grandmother was taking her afternoon nap and she didn’t want it to wake her, especially since she went down with another one of her headaches.

  She pulled the kitchen door open without thinking, nearly going into shock when she saw her ex standing on the other side. What the heck is he doing here? “Scott?”

  Before she could gather her wits he opened the screen door and walked in as if he owned the place, cloaked in that cocky attitude Libby remembered, and now realized she detested. He had a lot of nerve, just showing up like this. She had no choice but to step out of his way or be mowed over.

  “What are you doing here?” She was aware her tone wasn’t exactly welcoming, but he was the last person she wanted to see.

  “Well, hello to you too, beautiful,” he said cheerfully, letting the screen door slam shut with a bang behind him.

  “Be quiet, Gram has a headache!” Libby hissed, not the least bit happy to see him. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since breaking if off with him. “How did you know I was here?” She swallowed nervously when he advanced. He reached out to finger a curl lying against the side of her temple, and she leaned away.

  She’d just gotten out of the shower and had barely dried off. Now she was sorry she hadn’t taken the time, painfully aware her clothes were clinging to her damp skin. The self-assured gleam was evident in his crystal clear eyes, reminding Libby he was good at getting what he wanted, and rarely taking no for an answer.

  “Your parents told me you were spending the weekends here.”

  His admission infuriated Libby. Her parents liked Scott and obviously thought they were doing what was best for her. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here,” she reminded him, crossing her arms. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear when I told you it was over and I never wanted to see you again.”

  “I was hoping you’d had time to cool down and come to your senses,” Scott replied, running his gaze over her in a way that used to make her blood warm. Now it only annoyed her. “Haven’t you missed me?”

  “Give me a few hundred years.” There was a look in his blue eyes that Libby knew very well. Only now it scared her more than turned her on because she was certain he was going to try something. “Don’t come near me, Scott, I mean it!” She whispered, backing right up against the dining room table. “We’re over for good. You’re not going to charm your way back into my life again.”

  The smile that spread across his handsome face told Libby he thought that was a good possibility. “Really? That’s not the impression I got from your folks.”

  “That’s because they don’t know the truth about you.” She attempted to scoot away but calculated too late. Scott’s hand snaked out, catching her by the upper arm and whipping her back against him. Only a couple inches taller than her didn’t make him any less threatening. And where most men might resort to using strength to overpower a woman, Scott was great at turning on the charm and mesmerizing her into forgetting what she wanted and giving him what he wanted.

  Libby didn’t have any trouble keeping a clear head by remembering his betrayal. She stiffened when he lowered his head, turning her face away. “I’m warning you, Scott…” she gasped, just loud enough for him to hear. “I don’t want this.” She put her hands against his chest to push him away.

  “Come on, beautiful. Don’t you think I deserve forgiveness? I screwed up; I admit it. But don’t throw away what we had.”

  “It’s been two months. There’s been no communication at all between us; how can you think I’d just pick up where we left off?” she demanded in an exasperated tone. “I don’t feel anything for you. And for the record, you threw away what we had. Now please leave.”

  Libby thought finally she was getting through to him when his hold slackened. But she should have remembered Scott also had a devious way in working things out to suit him. As she relaxed she made the mistake of turning to meet his eyes, slightly surprised to see the anger shimmering there. The Scott she knew always kept a cool head.

  “Please, Scott, leave,” she said, making an attempt to put distance between them. She gasped when he jerked her against him.

  “You used to like being in my arms.” He lowered his head.

  His breath was hot against Libby’s cheek. “You forget, I know what a hot little number you are. You could never get enough.”

  “Scott, no!” Libby pushed against his chest with all her might, enraged that he was intent on forcing himself on her. “No!” He easily forced her arms behind her back and Libby felt a moment of real fear. She’d never seen him
like this before.

  “Let…me…go! Please!”

  “Why should I?” he said in a defiant voice.

  “Because she said please.”

  Logan! What is he doing here? It was a toss up who was more surprised to see Logan standing at the screen door. The quiet emphasis in his deep voice affected Scott almost comically, causing him to trip over his own feet as he hastily stepped away from her. No telling how long Logan had been standing there, watching them quietly. How much he’d heard. But Libby wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She was just thankful he was there.

  For a moment the two men eyed each other like adversaries, sizing each other up before a battle. Logan’s expression was hard to read, his eyes glaring coldly at Scott, while Scott’s expression paled slightly in his pitiful attempt to stand up to the threat of Logan. Libby tried not to grin but she couldn’t help it. Scott wouldn’t stand a chance against Logan, and he had obviously come to the same conclusion. He was a good head shorter, and standing next to Logan, he looked more like an underdeveloped teenager. His gaze shot her way. She tried to erase the smile off her face before he saw it, but his quick scowl told her she hadn’t been fast enough.

  “Now I know why you’re spending so much time here,” he accused in a nasty tone. Without another word he pushed through the screen door and past Logan.

  While the door was open Logan stepped into the room, and suddenly Libby was reminded of the incident at the pool. Why couldn’t she get that thought out of her head? The answer was simple. She wanted Logan. She felt her cheeks flush with heat and tried to push those thoughts aside. “Thanks for coming to the rescue, again.”

  “Your ex?” he inquired, running his gaze over Libby as if making sure she was okay.

  Unlike Scott’s thorough look, Logan’s scrutiny made Libby melt inside like ice cream on a hot summer day. She nodded. “My parents think he’s good for me. What are you doing here, Logan?” He looked sweaty and hot, as if he’d just had a hard workout. But that didn’t make him any less appealing in gray sweats.