by Alix Labelle
“I love it,” Tom said, looking down at her pretty face and wishing he could kiss her smiling lips. “Let’s go.”
#
Shay surveyed the huge pile of shells on the newspaper-covered table between her and Tom. “Did we just eat two bushels of steamed crab?”
“I think you did.” Tom held up a crab claw. “Last one. Want to arm wrestle me for it?”
She laughed. Over the last two hours Tom had finally abandoned his shyness and started talking back to her. Now he was joking with her as easily as if they’d known each other for years.
“I’d better not,” she said. “Much as I love crab, I’ll probably break your arm.”
“I think you would.” He expertly snapped the claw and popped out the snowy white meat, but divided it and held out half. “Here. For being generous.”
Shay leaned forward to snap it from his fingers, but instead parted her lips and let him feed her the piece. She looked in his eyes as she did, and saw the way he was watching her mouth.
“Thank you,” she murmured after she chewed and swallowed.
His dark violet eyes gleamed. “You’re welcome.”
Shay sighed happily as she finished her sweet tea. “That was amazing. The best meal I’ve had since I don’t know when. I’m so glad I ran into you.” That reminded her. “Were you looking to buy some furniture from that store?”
“No, I was just looking at it. I do a bit wood-working in my spare time.” His smile faded. “Not that I have a lot of that.”
“You make furniture, too?” When he nodded she felt impressed. “That’s not an easy hobby.”
“Wood has two sides to its nature,” Tom told her. “It wants to go together, and it wants to be apart. You just have to convince it to fit instead of git.”
Shay chuckled. “Sounds a bit like you, Mr. Boone.” She took out her wallet as the waitress brought their check, and then scowled as Tom gave her his credit card. “Hey, we were supposed to split the bill, remember?”
“If we did, I couldn’t call this a date.” Two men arguing in low voices nearby made Tom frown in their direction.
Shay followed his gaze. “Wow. That guy looks like that councilman they caught stealing from the city – Bramson?”
“Yeah, I think it is.” Tom’s smile returned as he looked at Shay. “Why don’t you be a good politician and let me pay for dinner?”
“So you can call it a date?” she teased.
He nodded. “If it’s not a date, I can’t kiss you good-night.”
Shay felt all the air in her lungs evaporate. “You planning on kissing me, Tom Boone?”
He watched her eyes as he signed the charge slip the waitress brought and then stood. “Come and find out.”
Shay took the hand he offered her, and tucked her arm through his as they walked out of the restaurant. “What if I give you the money for dinner?” she teased. “Can I call you my date, and do what I want to you?”
Tom chuckled as they stopped in front of his pickup. “I’d have to know what you have in mind for me, ma’am.”
“Well.” Shay gathered up her nerve as she turned to him, and took his hands in hers. “It’ll start with a kiss, but I won’t say good-night.” As another couple passed them, she made a face. “Not here, though. Someplace, ah, more private.”
“Okay.” Tom caressed her cheek. “You can pay me later. Get in the truck.”
Shay felt as if she might burst with excitement as Tom drove from the restaurant to a deserted park, when he parked next to an empty sedan. When he turned to her she climbed out and beckoned to him.
“Come on,” she urged. “I know a more private spot.”
Shay led Tom over to the old iron fountain hidden among an evergreen thicket. Crickets chirped, and some night-blooming blossom scented the air, adding more romance to the private little spot.
Once they sat down on the little bench there, he glanced around them. “How did you know about this?”
“When I first found it I followed the sound of the water,” she told him, and laced her fingers through his. “You can sit back here for hours and no one ever sees you. Plus it’s really pretty during the day.”
His gaze moved to her face. “You’re prettier.”
Shay scooted a little closer. “If you don’t kiss me right now, Tom, I’m going to jump on you.”
“Oh, yeah?” His strong arms plucked her off the bench and sat her on his lap. “Let me help you with that.”
Shay linked her hands behind his neck as their lips met, and sighed into his mouth. A moment later he was tasting her, and then taking her mouth with hard, hot hunger. Shay’s hands twined in his thick hair, and she felt his palms stroke down her back to grip her hips.
Tom finally broke off the kiss. “You’re making me forget where I am.”
“You’re alone,” Shay whispered in his ear. “With me.”
He touched his finger to her lips, and then ran it down over her chin to the hollow of her throat. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you.”
“You should have taken that donut,” she told him, turning and straddling his lap. As soon as she did she felt the bulge of his erection press between her legs. “You know you wanted it.”
“I wanted you.” His eyelids drooped. “But not as much as I do now.”
Shay rubbed against him slowly, teasing him. “Do you want this, Tommy?” She leaned closer. “You can have it, right now.”
He started to shake his head, and then went still as she lifted and reached down for his zipper. “Shay, what are you doing?”
“I’m taking what I want.” She opened his trousers, and then curled her fingers around him. “Do you know where I want it?”
Tom reached between her thighs, tugging aside her panties so he could stroke her wet folds. He tested her with one fingertip, circling her opening before he sank it inside her. “Here?”
The penetration made her moan and tighten her grip on his shaft. “Yes. Right there.”
Tom pushed another finger inside her and slowly pumped them in and out. “Like this?”
She nodded, panting as she clenched around his fingers. “Oh, that feels so good.”
He brought her face down to his to kiss her again as he played with her. Shay heard herself whimper as she stroked his thick length. With a shaking hand she brought the broad head of him to press against her wetness. Before she could get him inside her, Tom lifted her off his lap and set her aside.
“Wait,” she protested as he zipped up his pants. “We’re just getting started here.”
He tugged down her skirt. “I thought I heard something.” He studied her face. “I don’t want to do this out here, and it’s getting late. We both have a long drive ahead of us.”
“But we don’t have to go back tonight.” Wishing she could tear open his shirt, she fiddled with one snap. “My family’s old house is just a few miles outside the city, and it’s sitting there empty. I stay there sometimes when I’m too tired to drive back.”
He tipped up her chin. “So you want to stay there tonight, with me?”
She nodded before she added, “Unless you’ve decided you don’t want this. Or me.”
Tom hefted her in his arms as he stood and strode back toward his truck, moving so fast Shay began to giggle.
A burst of gunfire shattered the air.
Tom set her on her feet and shoved her behind him. “Hey.”
Shay could see a man on the ground, and another stalking toward them and pointing a still-smoking rifle.
“Run,” Tom told her.
Before she could take a step, the man with the rifle tossed it to Tom, who caught it.
“Thanks, pal.” The man took off, climbing into the sedan and speeding off.
Shay stared after him, and then looked at the body and the weapon Tom held in his hands. “Why did he do that?”
“I’m not wearing gloves like him.” Tom went over to the man on the ground and turned him over. “Stay there,” she told S
hay when she approached. “You don’t want to see this.”
Shay saw enough. “That’s the man from the restaurant. Councilman Bramson.” She looked over to see an elderly man walking his dog stop and stare at them in horror. “Tom, we have to call the police.”
Tom came to her, took her by the arm and walked her quickly back to his pick-up. When she pulled away, he said, “He’s gone. We have to get out of here, Shay. Now.”
“But we can’t go.” She glanced back at the body. “We have to tell someone -- explain.”
“Explain what? Bramson’s dead. I have the murder weapon in my hands. We just had dinner at the same restaurant as the guy.” Tom tossed the rifle in the back of the cab. “And that old man is a witness. He’ll describe me to the cops.”
Now Shay understood why the killer had thrown the shotgun. “Oh, no.”
Tom nodded. “They’ll think I murdered him.”
Chapter Three
“After we moved to Wyoming my folks meant to sell the place,” Shay said as Tom drove around the back of the property and parked his pick-up inside the barn. “But they never accepted any offers. Not that anyone wanted to pay a lot for an old house in the woods. Tom, what are we going to do?”
“We’ll figure it out.” He grabbed the rifle before he came around to open the door and help her down. “Let’s get inside.”
The interior of the old two-story house still contained all the antique furniture Shay’s family had used during her childhood. Tom paused to switch on the main power breaker, and then checked the house phone line.
“That won’t work,” Shay told him, and disappeared into the kitchen before she came back with two water bottles. She offered him one. “I keep some supplies and stuff here in case I want to spend the night. It’s silly, but I always feel safer here than at a hotel.”
Tom heard how her voice wavered and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “It’s all right, Shay. We just have to be smart.”
She nodded against his chest and heaved a long sigh before she stepped back. “I’ve got my old laptop upstairs. We should use it to check the local news, and see what they’re saying about the murder.” Tom’s pocket silently buzzed. “You go on up. I have to get something out of the truck.”
Once Shay went upstairs Tom walked out and took out his phone. The words “Unknown Caller” showed on the display, and when he answered it, a cold voice came over the line. “Did you enjoy your last meal, Cowboy? I was worried after seeing Bramson you’d puke it up. You should never write your real phone number on a restaurant check, by the way.”
Tom’s fingers tightened on the phone. “Who are you?”
“What matters is who I’m not,” the killer taunted. “I’m not the guy who murdered the councilman. You are, unless you bring me that rifle.”
Tom walked outside and glanced up at the light that went on in the upstairs window. “If you wanted the rifle, why toss it to me?”
“You know why. I needed that old man to see you with it.” The killer’s tone softened. “What’s your girlfriend’s name?”
The bastard didn’t know who Shay was, which meant they were safe here for now. “Go to hell.”
“Come on, Cowboy,” the killer said. “You don’t want me to come after you and your lady. Things could get real ugly, real fast.” He paused, and then said, “I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll set up the meet. Pleasant dreams.”
Tom shut off the phone and removed the battery and the sim card. When he went back into the house, he bolted the door behind him. Taking up the rifle, he checked the barrel and stock.
Upstairs he found Shay in a little girl’s room, where she sat on the edge of a small bed. Across from her sat a laptop playing a news video. It showed a reporter standing at the edge of the park.
“—on charges of extortion, racketeering, and money laundering,” the reporter said. “The police have released these photos of the alleged killer and his accomplice, which were taken by an eye witness.”
Smart phone photos of Tom and Shay appeared on the screen, clearly showing both their faces.
Shay closed the laptop and stared up at him. “Looks like I’m your partner in crime.”
“I need your phone.” When she gave it to him, Tom took it apart. “The killer got my number off the restaurant check. He wants the rifle back. It doesn’t have a serial number. Judging by the quality it’s probably a ghost gun, made in someone’s basement. They’re completely untraceable.”
Her brows drew together. “Then why would he want it back?”
“He doesn’t. He wants me to think he does.” He sat down beside her and took her hand in his. “But there’s something he doesn’t know I have.”
#
Shay stepped out of the shower and wrapped her hair in a towel before using another to dry off. Down the hall Tom was doing the same in her parent’s bathroom. Soon he’d come out in her Dad’s old robe, and she’d have to face him.
Shay still felt furious with him. Tom Boone wasn’t shy. He was crazy, and his insane plan to trap the killer was going to get him killed.
All she had to wear were some old pajamas she kept at the house, which made her resemble a teen on a sleepover. She eyed herself in the mirror, scowling at her freshly-washed face. The annoyance kept her from replaying the murder over and over in her head.
Shay didn’t need to relive the horror. They’d gotten away. They were safe, for now. Finally she was all alone with the guy of her dreams, and she hadn’t brought her make-up or curling iron or anything she needed to look good. Tom would take one look at her and probably snicker himself into the hiccups.
A gentle tap on the door made Shay yank it open. “What?”
Tom frowned down at her. “You’ve got freckles.”
“Yes, I do.” She wanted to cry her eyes out, but instead planted her hands on her hips. “I also have stick-straight hair. Which is mud-brown under the highlights, by the way.” She stalked past him and went down to her old bedroom.
Tom followed and stood in the doorway watching her comb out her hair. When she glanced at him he shrugged. “I like freckles.”
“I don’t, which is why I wear the makeup I didn’t bring. Next time I’ll plan on spending the night with a maniac. God, I’m so tired of this. All I wanted was a chance to be with you, and now I’ll only have one chance, and I can’t – I won’t–” Unable to go on, she tossed down the comb. A sob escaped her as she buried her face in her hands.
“Oh, no.” Tom came in and drew her to her feet. “It’ll be all right, Shay. Don’t cry.”
She gripped the front of the old robe. “You can’t do this. If you’re right, and this guy is who you said he is, he’s going to kill you. He has to.”
“He won’t get a chance.” Tom cradled her face between his palms. “I need you to trust me, Shay. Please.”
“You’re going to get shot,” she muttered, “and I still hate my freckles. They make me feel so, I don’t know. Girl-next-door, I guess.”
“You are the hottest, sexiest woman I’ve ever known.” Tom ran his hands down the length of her back. “What you did to me on that bench in the park – I’ve never been so turned on in my life. I almost fucked you right there, Shay.”
She bit her bottom lip. “You should have fucked me, Tom.” She gasped as he hauled her up in his arms. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done.” He carried her down to her parents’ bedroom. Once there he deposited her on their king-size mattress. “We’ll have more room here. Plus I need a better look at these freckles, too.”
“You won’t have to look hard.” Her shoulders slumped. “They’re all over me. Head to toe.”
Tom sat down beside her. “I think they’re cute.”
“Everyone does.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “That was my nickname growing up: Cutey.”
“Ah.” He put his arm around her. “I think I’ve heard that name before . . . quilt shop down south, isn’t it?”
�
�Yes, I’m named for my Aunt Shay, so she named her shop for me.” She turned and pushed him back on the bed, climbing on top of him and holding him tightly. “Please don’t do this, Tom, please. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.” His chest rose and fell. “I promise, Cutey.”
Chapter Four
Raining kisses all over his face and neck didn’t help Shay to change Tom’s mind, but it did get her rolled onto her back. Then he kissed her on the mouth, hard and hot, gliding his tongue against hers as he tugged up her pajama top.
“I’ve wanted you so damn long,” he said when he lifted his head, and looked down at the golden freckles on her full breasts. “Well, hell. They are all over, aren’t they?”
“I told you.” Shay pushed the robe off his broad shoulders and ran her palms over the beautiful bulk of his muscles. “But I’d rather have you all over me.”
Tom muttered something before he cupped one mound and began kissing and licking Shay’s stiff nipple. He fondled her other breast as he did, and her spine arched as the need inside her swelled from urgent to outrageous.
“You know something?” Tom shifted up, tugging her pajama bottoms off and looking down at her. “I almost came in your hand in the park.”
Shay spread her legs a little. “I almost put you in my mouth.”
“We’ll save that for later. By the way, freckles aren’t really cute on a woman.” He bent his head to kiss his way down her belly. “They’re sexy.”
“Are they?” Shay took in a quick breath as he nestled between her thighs. “Okay.”
“You’ll have to change the name of the shop.” Tom looked up at her, his violet eyes almost black as he pressed a kiss against the soft triangle of curls covering her mound. “Sexy Quilts.”
“Or Spotty Quilts.” A moan escaped her as he gave her a long, luscious lick with his tongue. “Ah, Tom, oh – yes.”
As he lavished her damp folds, Tom parted them with his tongue. He then lashed her hard, throbbing clit until she was shaking with need.
“I want to be inside you when you come,” he murmured as he moved back over her, working the swollen head of his thick shaft against her until he found the fit. “Oh, yeah. Look at me, Cutey. Look at me while I fuck this pretty pussy of yours.”