by Casey Elliot
“Fine,” I said. “Seems a bit covert for an ash-spreading mission though.”
She shrugged.
After our meal, it was starting to get dark, so we headed out toward the house. At Lexa’s instruction, I parked down the street and we walked the rest of the way. By the time we got there, it was nearly full darkness. The lights in the house were on, spilling radiance out onto the lawn. Lexa frowned as we approached. She hadn’t been expecting that.
“I hope the back’s not as lit up,” she complained. “Have these people ever heard of curtains?”
I chuckled and looked over at her. Damn, she was nearly as tall as me. She must’ve hit some sort of late growth spurt out of high school. I was six-three, so that put her at just under six feet I would’ve guessed. And, with long legs like hers, I doubt anyone ever complained.
“What are you looking at?” she asked. Her tone indicated she was still irritated that the owners of the home didn’t have curtains.
I shook my head. “Just memorizing what you look like, so that I can tell the police who my accomplice was when I get caught later.”
She laughed, leading me down the side street that went behind the house. “Who's to say that you’re going to get caught but I’m not?”
“You’ve got legs that look like they were made for running from the cops,” I replied unthinkingly. I was glad I left off the last bit of what I was going to say; sinful.
She went quiet again, and it made me smile. Trying not to hit on her wasn’t the most fruitful of causes, but who was I kidding? If she weren’t Joel’s kid sister, I would’ve had her up against the backs of one of these houses by now. Even letting out the little bit that I did, I was still holding back an awful lot. And, I was beginning to think she wouldn’t have minded if I gave her my all.
Lexa
In my head, I had started a mantra. It went a little something like this: Don’t sleep with Slade. Don’t sleep with Slade. Don’t sleep with Slade.
The fact that I had to repeat that over and over again in my head is indicative of just how much of an effect he was having on me. Anytime he looked at me, his eyes shot right through me. The feel of his hard and muscular back against my chest as we drove caused me to be hyper-aware of the way he moved and rippled under his clothes. And, his voice—that low, gravelly tone, sent shivers right to my core.
Then, when he made the offhand comments that he sometimes did, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he felt it too. But, I had to remind myself that he was just a guy looking at a tall redhead, and that I was just feeling like this because of a crush I’d once had on him.
Who wouldn’t have had a crush on the guy that came to her high school graduation when her mom bailed? Not to mention he showed up looking all clean-cut and soldiery with his close-cropped hair, and his pressed shirt with his tattoos showing from where he’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows.
He was every teenage girl’s forbidden fantasy.
It was beginning to feel like nothing had changed. He was still the super hot bad boy with the motorcycle who was only humoring me because he pitied me, and I was still the awkward, lovestruck kid.
So, I started a mantra to keep myself sane.
We snuck around the back of the house to where the big, white fence bordered the public park that Joel had broken his arm in during the first grade. There was a gate, but it was locked from the other side. Slade took a peek over.
Padlocked.
Guess whoever these people were, they didn’t have kids.
The fence was about six feet tall. After tossing my backpack over, I looked over at Slade. “Give me a boost?” I asked.
He laughed. “You want me to boost you over the fence?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He shook his head with a bemused expression, but put his hands out for me to step onto.
I’d never been particularly athletic. Besides going for the odd run now and then, I didn’t do a lot in terms of exercise. I certainly wasn’t athletic enough to gracefully make it over the fence. That probably showed when I went over the top and toppled onto the other side.
With my face in the grass, I let out a low groan.
“Are you okay?” asked Slade, from the other side.
“Yeah,” I replied.
I picked myself up and, within a moment, he came down on my side, landing in a crouched position. Of course, he would be skilled at jumping over fences.
“It’s that tree there,” I whispered, trying to get over my embarrassment.
He followed my gaze to the willow about twenty feet to our left. I slung my bag back onto my back. We hunched over and kept to the shadows, keeping a watchful eye for any activity from the house. Once under the tree, I pulled off my backpack and searched for the little trowel I’d hidden inside.
Slade’s eyes were glued to the silver urn that I pulled out while I hunted. I had forgotten that he’d never seen it before.
“You okay?” I asked.
He looked at me like I was stupid for even asking. “Of course.”
I dug the first couple of shovelfuls, but as I went to stick the spade in the ground for the third dig, Slade sighed and grabbed it out of my hands. I would have protested, but I didn’t want to cause any sort of ruckus that might give us away.
“How deep do you want it?” he asked in a husky whisper after a few more minutes of digging.
I felt my heart rate zoom before I realized he was asking me how deep I wanted the hole to be. “Uh, about a foot and a half,” I replied.
I saw his lips curve into a smirk. It was obvious what had been on my mind.
When the hole was dug, we took off the lid of the urn and together, carefully poured a third of its contents into the ground. Then, we filled it and slid the clump of grass from the top back into place.
“All done,” Slade said, tapping the earth.
“Should we say something?” I asked. My eyes swam with tears, as the realization that we’d just buried a part of my brother hit me. I knew it was what he would have wanted, but it made it seem so final, so real.
“Let’s save that for the last place,” he said.
For a second, I thought he looked pretty raw too.
Then, the porch light came on, bathing most of the backyard in its glow. Slade roughly grabbed me and shoved me against the tree, pressing his body against mine. I was enveloped with his musky, intoxicating scent. It was salt and dirt and something all his own. God it was good.
A dog raced out into the yard. At first, it didn’t see us, and Slade and I communicated in a look that we were going to wait it out. We tried not to breathe too heavily, but I was having difficulty considering just how much I was enjoying the unexpected contact.
Then, the dog sniffed the air, turned its head, and looked right at us. We bolted just as it began to bark, sending up a flurry of noise into the night. It was only a little dog, and didn’t charge us or anything, but within moments, its owner ran over to the patio to see what was happening.
Slade practically threw me over the fence as a man’s voice called out, “Who are you and what are you doing in my backyard?”
Slade jumped over a second later, then grabbed my hand and wrenched me down the street toward his bike. We ran full-tilt all the way to the side street it was parked on, and he threw me my helmet, climbed on, and then peeled off into the night as soon as I had my arms wrapped around him.
I let out a whoop of laughter as we raced away, and I could feel laughter rumbling through his chest too. We had just done the craziest thing I’d ever done. It felt amazing.
Next, we went in search of somewhere to sleep. We passed three motels, all with their “no vacancy signs” lit. The fourth looked a little out of our price range, (which for me was practically zero), but it didn’t seem we’d have much more of a choice.
“That was amazing,” I said, as I dismounted and pulled my head out of my helmet. “Holy shit, did you see that guy’s face?”
Slade merely smiled and shook
his head. “And, people say I’m trouble.”
I gave him a light-hearted jab in the ribs as we walked up toward the manager’s office, feeling a little bit drunk on adventure and perhaps a little careless and friendly. “We’d make a good bank robbing team.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “One trespass and you’re already turning into some kind of Billy the Kid.” My smile dropped when I entered the office. The dusty, old man sitting at the desk looked like an actual nightmare come to life. His sallow face barely turned to acknowledge us when we walked in. What a great place to spend the night.
“Two rooms,” said Slade.
I frowned at him. Did he think I was made of money?
“We’ve only got one room,” replied the man. “Busy week.”
Slade looked over at me, as if seeking my approval. I shrugged. “One room, then,” he said. “Two beds.”
“Only got one room with one bed,” the man replied.
I saw Slade’s jaw tense. The look in his eye caused the man to take a step back.
I put a hand on Slade’s arm. “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re adults, and it's the twenty first century. We can share a king bed without me being spoiled for marriage.”
“It’s a queen,” the man interjected.
Now, we both shot him a glare. “Is there anywhere else in town that will have rooms?” Slade asked lowly. I could tell more than anything else he just hated this guy and didn’t want to give him our business.
The manager shrugged. “Like I said, busy week.” When we continued to stare, he said, “Lavender Festival. People come from all over the state.”
Shit. I had forgotten about the Lavender Festival. Slade turned his head to me, glaring. I smiled meekly. “I forgot.”
Slade turned back to the man. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll take the room.”
“How many nights?” the man asked, writing something down.
“Two,” I replied.
Slade gave me a look, but didn’t say anything else, as we filled out the paperwork and paid. I protested against him paying for the whole thing, but he simply waved me off. We headed up to our room after grabbing Slade’s stuff from his bike, and when he flicked on the light, I nearly cringed.
Yeah, it wasn’t as cheap as the other cheap motels, but it wasn’t winning any awards. And, the bed seemed oddly small. Surely, it couldn't have been a queen.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Slade said gruffly, dropping his bag onto the aforementioned couch.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, laughing. The couch was probably only half as long as Slade, and looked less comfortable than sleeping on his bike would have been.
He slid off his jacket and dropped it onto the couch as I walked over to the bed. “You want me on the bed, Ginger?” he asked, a licentious grin creeping up my face.
Damn. It was suddenly very hot in there.
“I just don’t want you to be all cranky tomorrow when your back is all fucked up,” I retorted. “Or, if you break a hip from falling off of it.”
Bringing up his age was a mistake; I knew that the moment the words came out of my mouth. He strode toward me, skewering me with his green gaze. I felt heat rise to my face as he stopped inches from me, his face tilted down toward mine. I had to keep my eyes on his. It took great effort, considering they wanted to roam over his strong jaw and long, straight nose.
“What was that?” he asked smoothly. “I didn’t quite hear you.”
I gulped, my mouth suddenly dry. “I uh—”
“You, uh?”
“I just think you’d be more comfortable on the bed,” I squeaked. I could smell him again, feel the heat radiating off of him. It was too much.
He moved away from me and I let out the breath I’d been holding. If he heard it, he chose to ignore it. He grabbed his bag and put it on the bed.
“If you insist, Ginger.”
I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas, and suddenly wished I’d brought anything else but pajama shorts and a t-shirt. I checked my face in the mirror and gave myself a silent pep talk before I left the room.
Don’t sleep with Slade. Don’t sleep with Slade. Don’t sleep with Slade.
Slade
When she came out of the bathroom, I was glad that I was under the blanket already. She was just wearing little shorts like the ones she’d showed up to my house in this morning, but the realization that she’d be getting into bed with me seemed to make it even hotter.
She ran across the room to the light switch like if she ran quickly, I wouldn’t see her. All it did was make her butt jiggle as she went past, which was a visual I wouldn’t soon forget. Once the light was off, she crawled into bed beside me and lay there, still.
“Goodnight,” she said, after a minute.
I grunted in response, closing my eyes and trying to forget that there was an exceptionally attractive woman lying only a foot away from me. My nose picked up her smell; faint, but intoxicating. It was flowery and sweet like her… too sweet for the likes of me.
I rolled over onto my side, away from her, determined to ignore the throbbing in my cock that urged me to turn around and pull her to me.
Chapter Three
When I woke up in the morning, at first, I didn’t know where I was. The bed under me was soft; the girl next to me was soft.
The girl next to me… shit.
I opened my eyes and looked down at Lexa. She was still snoozing away, probably drooling onto the pillow beneath her face. She was backed up to me, and my arm was tossed over top of her. With the precision of a bomb tech, I began to carefully lift my arm away and slide out my other one, extracting my body inch by inch until I was at a safe enough distance to get off of the bed and not have her wake up still touching me.
As soon as I stood, I barked at her, “Wake up.”
She lazily turned her head over to me, eyes half-lidded with sleep, her little cupid’s bow lips parted.
“Why?”
I furrowed my brow. I didn’t know why. I had no idea what we were doing that day.
“Because we’ve got shit to do,” I replied.
She shook her head. “We’ve got all day,” she groaned. “What is it, seven A.M.?”
I checked the clock on my phone. It was six-thirty. Well, I’d never been able to sleep in very long after my first tour. It was hard to want to stay in bed when you knew that someone could rip through your tent with bullets any minute.
“I’m going for a run,” I announced, grabbing my change of clothes and going into the bathroom. When I came out, she was already back asleep, one leg slung over the blankets. Her fiery hair was splayed out over the pillow, and I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and see if she’d wrap that leg around me.
But, that couldn’t happen.
I went outside and had a look around, deciding that I’d head in the direction of the ocean I’d spied yesterday. I jogged down the stairs, and then pumped my legs on the asphalt, feeling the morning air blow coolly against my face. With each step, I felt lighter, with each breath, I felt stronger.
When I got back to the motel an hour later, Lexa was curled up in bed, scrolling through her phone. She looked up at me and scowled when I entered. “I thought you might come back with coffee,” she said.
Panting, I ignored her and walked to the bathroom, stripping off my shirt as I went. I could feel her eyes on me, and I smiled away from her view. I bet she wouldn’t say anything snarky to me now.
Lexa
It should’ve been illegal for someone to look that good without a shirt; like some sort of humility law or something. My eyes followed Slade’s muscular back to the bathroom where he closed the door behind him. I heard the shower turn on, and I settled back down into the pillows. Oh dear.
When Slade was finished in the shower, I had already dressed. I walked past him into the steamy bathroom and began brushing my teeth, ignoring the towel slung low around his hips and focusing very hard on eliminating any potential cavities.
When we were both dressed and ready, we headed down to Slade’s bike.
“Where are we going now?” he asked.
“The pier,” I responded, taking my helmet from his outstretched hand. “Head west about two miles, and then I think it’s a bit south.”
He nodded and hopped on, and I straddled the seat behind him. We cruised down the roads of the little town, and as the sea air began to fill my nostrils, my heart began to lift. I barely remembered this place, being that I was still quite young when we moved to where my parents lived now, but Joel had loved it here. He and his friends would come and play in the salty surf all summer; fishing off the pier with their legs dangling above the waves and searching for crabs when the tide was out.
We turned a corner and the ocean stretched before us in both directions. As we turned again and began to ride along the length of it, I watched the ships bob on the surface, and noticed that the tide was in.
Crap... should have thought of that.
Slade didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, didn’t care. I guessed that he thought I wanted to spread some of Joel’s ashes in the water. He didn’t realize yet that we’d have to wait a few hours to get access to the sand beneath the pier.
We reached the pier and parked. After freeing myself from my helmet, I eyed the long boardwalk and smiled to fight through the clenching in my chest. One of my earliest memories was of Joel taking me here. We walked hand-in-hand across the wooden planks, and he pointed out jellyfish to me in the water below.
“What now?” asked Slade.
I turned to look at him, my hair whipping around my face in the breeze. “We’re going under the pier,” I replied. “So, we’ve got to wait for the tide to go out.” I pulled out my phone and did a quick Google search. “Looks like we’ve got about an hour to kill.”
Slade rolled his eyes at my lack of organization, yet again. Despite his surly attitude, I was glad he was there. He was like a big, unmoving, emotional rock. With him by my side, I felt like I could face anything. He wasn’t my support, but he was my buffer.
We walked over to the little gift shop across the street, and I bought us each an ice cream. Slade scowled when I handed it to him, but began to eat it, nonetheless. He bit chunks off instead of licking them, which I found odd, but strangely hot.