by Freya Barker
If he hadn’t said anything, I would’ve left at that moment, but he did. And opened the door for a few simple questions that quickly confirmed my suspicions. The fact he opened up even a little felt like a major vow of trust. And just like he rewarded my trust in him last night, I want to honor his trust in me. That’s why I didn’t push for more. If he wants to tell me, he can.
The gurgling of the coffee machine announces my first hit of caffeine is near. I need it. A lot has happened since last night, and I’ve barely had a chance to process.
I toss some bacon in a pan before pouring coffee in my favorite mug. I’m thinking cheesy scrambled eggs or banana-stuffed French toast. It takes me two sips of coffee to decide I’m craving sweet. French toast it is. I grab two bananas from the wire basket on the counter and the Italian loaf I picked up yesterday. I cut the bread in extra thick slices and with a paring knife, make a slit in the crust on the bottom, creating a little pocket for the sliced banana. Two eggs go in a bowl with a little almond milk and a bit of cinnamon. And then a quick stir with a fork to loosen the yolks. A piece of butter goes in the big second pan to melt and the bacon is flipped. When the butter is hot enough, I dip the four stuffed slices one by one in the egg mixture and arrange them in the pan.
I’m leaning against the counter, sipping my coffee and inhaling the mouth-watering scents of bacon and cinnamon when Neil walks in, shirtless. I freeze with my mug halfway to my mouth at the sight of his chest. Holy schnikes!
I’d been so overwhelmed with sensation last night, I never took the time to check out his body. Not that I hadn’t done that already, but he was always dressed. Mostly it consisted of sneaking peeks and inconspicuously wiping the drool off my chin. Neil with clothes on is a sight to behold. Neil shirtless is awe-inspiring. I don’t even want to think what Neil naked would be. Heart-stopping?
A deep chuckle draws my eyes to his face, which is sporting a cocky grin. “Babe,” he points out. “Your mouth is open.”
With a snap I close it, biting my tongue in the process, which in turn causes me to slosh hot coffee over my hand. “Fuck!”
“Shit!” Neil is immediately there, taking the mug from my hand and dragging me to the sink. With his body behind me, he turns on the tap an holds my hand under the cold water.
“You said fuck,” his low voice sounds right by my ear.
“Well, it hurts!” I bite off. Then add with a heavy dose of sarcasm, “Forgive me if that offends you.”
“Not offended in the least. In fact, it’s kinda hot.”
With his head leaning over my shoulder and his front butted up against my back, it’s hard to ignore his physical response, which is pretty prominent.
“I have to flip my French toast,” I announce in a feeble attempt to break the heated atmosphere that hangs thick in the kitchen. With another of his chuckles, he lets me go.
“And you might wanna put on a shirt,” I suggest as I quickly dry my hand, which is numb from the cold water, and tend to breakfast with my back to him.
“You’re wearing it,” he points out before I hear his footsteps retreat. Moments later, the front door closes and I finally turn around, wondering if he’s taken off. But just as I’m sliding breakfast on a couple of plates, the door opens back up and Neil comes back in, wearing a shirt and carrying a bag.
“Better?” he asks with a smirk.
“Much,” I fire back, putting breakfast on the dining table while he’s going through cupboards in the kitchen. I’m just pouring the real Canadian maple syrup I found at Safeway on my toast when he walks in carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. The kitchen clock catches my eye, and I see it’s only six thirty. Early yet.
“Dayum,” Neil mumbles with his mouthful. “This is great.”
I look over to his plate and it’s already half empty. In the time it takes me to eat one of mine, he’s done. I’m already pretty full so I slide my second one on his plate. “I’m full,” I explain when he looks like he might object.
I watch him eat while I sip my coffee. Nice. Weird. Oddly comfortable. Neil looks like he’s totally at ease. No remnants of his rough night visible. My mind drifts to what happened before that and I feel my body’s thermostat rise instantly. The memory of that same mouth currently folding itself around the forkful of dripping French toast being between my legs last night. The way he licks the sweet maple syrup off his lips too much like the way he looked hanging over me, mouth shining with my arousal, demanding I taste myself on him... My gaze trails up his face to find his eyes staring at me from under his eyebrows, burning with hot hunger. Oh my.
“I’m ehh... I’ll just take these...” I mutter, quickly collecting the dirty dishes and taking them to the kitchen. There, I stack them in the sink and start running the warm water to wash them. Anything to get my hormones under control.
“What were you thinking just now?”
I don’t need to turn around to know that Neil is right behind me. When I look up, I can see his reflection behind me in the kitchen window. I don’t answer. He obviously has a good idea what was on my mind because he takes a step closer, puts his hands on my hips and slowly slides the shirt up before wrapping his arms around my front. In the window, I can see one hand sliding up underneath my top, cupping my breast, while the other sneaks under the elastic of my panties.
A deep hum rumbles in his chest when his fingers find me slick. With one hand caressing my breast and the long fingers of the other stroking lightly through my folds, my knees turn to rubber. Keeping my eyes on the image we make in the window, I drop my head back and give myself over.
“That’s it, Pup.” Neil’s voice is rough with need, when another, much louder, voice rings out from the front hall.
“Mornin’, got any coffee left?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Neil
Son of a bitch.
I manage to square my body to block Kendra from view the moment I hear Gus’s voice. Two minutes later and I would’ve had her bent over the sink, her panties around her ankles and my tongue or my cock buried in her pussy.
The bark of laughter behind me, as Gus walks into the kitchen sets my teeth on edge, and I fight to hang on to my temper when I slowly turn my head. “A minute,” I bite off between clenched teeth at the man who is standing in the doorway, grinning ear to ear. Gus doesn’t seem affected at all by the angry scowl I throw his way. He just throws up his hands in a defensive gesture and backs out.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod...” Kendra’s whispered mantra reaches my ears as I slowly withdraw my fingers from where they’d been playing with her.
“It’s okay,” I mumble in her hair, pulling her shirt back down to cover her. “He’s gone.”
No sooner have I said that and she whips around, punching me in the arm.
“What was that for?”
“You,” she spits out. “Making me forget myself. In the bloody kitchen, of all places.” I’m hanging on to my straight face, because even a hint of the smug smile I feel tugging at my mouth, and the spitting mad—and supremely adorable—woman in front of me would not hesitate to castrate me. Instead, I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her neck.
“You make me forget myself wherever I am, Pup. And you don’t even have to try.”
Apparently that was the right thing to say, because with a little sigh, she slips her arms around my waist. “I should get dressed,” she mumbles.
“You do that. I’ll get some fresh coffee going and find out why Gus is here.” I give her a quick kiss on the lips and a pat on her luscious ass. That earns me an irritated glare over her shoulder as she scurries out of the kitchen and straight up the stairs. I use the time it takes to prepare a fresh pot of coffee, to bring my body back down from its primed condition.
“See you’ve discovered the draw of the kitchen,” Gus says as I walk in with a mug for him and a fresh coffee for myself.
“Shut it.”
He doesn’t. He just starts chuckling again. “Only fair, seeing as I think you�
�ve caught every last one of us in a similar position at some point during the past couple of years.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, but I do it smiling. He’s right. I’ve been in the unlucky position of walking in on too many of my friends going at it on the kitchen counter or against the fridge. Never could figure out what the deal was with the kitchen. Now I can. Shit, I’ll never live this down. “How’d you know I was here anyway? I thought I was supposed to meet you at the diner?” I change tracks.
“Emma is a bit under the weather, so I left her in bed and grabbed a quick breakfast at Arlene’s. Saw your truck was gone and took a guess. Thought I’d save you backtracking to the diner.” With a gulp he throws back his coffee and walks with his mug to the kitchen. “By the way,” he calls out, “we’re leaving in five, so if you need to say goodbye, I suggest you get to it. Just don’t finish what I walked in on just now—it’ll have to wait.”
I rub my face, hearing him clearly. I’d better get to it like he says, because for all I know, Kendra heard him too and will only add it to her lists of reasons not to get involved with me. Too late, she’s already there.
I find her in the bathroom, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Dressed and ready for work in a pair of scrubs, I already miss seeing my shirt on her. Her eyes watch me in the mirror as I step in behind her, sliding my hands to her stomach where she stops any progress by putting hers over mine.
“That can’t happen again,” she says with determination, but I can feel the give in her body as I lean my chin on her shoulder.
“Can’t guarantee that, Pup. You’re irresistible. Get used to having my hands on you at every damn opportunity.”
“Neil, please...”
I band my arms around her when she pleads. “Babe,” I groan. “Don’t say please after you say my name—not unless it’s followed by fuck me. Because that’s all I can think about when I hear those words.”
In an unexpected—but welcome—move, Kendra turns her head to the side while wrapping her hand around my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. Another bit of resistance melting away. I pull away much sooner than I’d like to, but I don’t need a repeat of what happened in the kitchen. If Gus says five minutes, then Gus means five minutes, and four of them are gone.
“Baby, be careful today. You’ve got my number and Joe’s gonna stick around town, so if anything is the matter, you call Joe first and then me. Okay?” I wait for her to nod her understanding before I go on. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be, but I’ll call you when I’m heading back.”
“I’m working in Cortez today,” she reminds me. “I’ll probably have my phone on silent in the hospital.”
Right. “Okay, then I’ll text you. Just check regularly.”
Gus is waiting with his foot on the bottom step. “Cut that close, my friend,” he says with a smirk.
“Quit busting my balls.”
-
We’ve just picked up some more coffee at the Silver Bean and are leaving Cortez behind us when Gus suddenly pipes up.
“Do you know what’s going on with Kara? She was moping around the house earlier this week and now all of a sudden she’s all bubbly again. She’s got Emma literally worried sick. She pregnant or something?”
I almost choke on my coffee. God—they think she’s pregnant? I feel guilty keeping something I’ve known about for a few years from them, but it’s not my secret to tell.
“I don’t think she’s pregnant, Gus. She would’ve told me,” I offer, hoping it will satisfy him.
“Well, then what the hell has her going all hormonal on us?” he asks, frustration clear in his voice before he turns to me. “She keeps saying everything is fine, but it’s clear she’s not fine, Neil. She shows up out of the blue for an indefinite vacation, leaving her job and life in Boston behind. It’s clear something is eating at her. Is she sick? I know you and her are just friends, but I also know you’ve spent some time with her this past week. Anything you can give us?”
Fuck.
“Look,” I scramble to find the right thing to say. “I can tell you safely that she’s healthy as a horse. As far as I know she’s not hiding any detrimental illnesses from you.”
“But she’s hiding something?” he asks, his eyes boring into me.
“Dammit, Gus. You’re asking me to betray a trust I don’t want to betray,” I swear, pissed to be stuck in the middle. “You’re an investigator. You were trained to ask the right questions. Ask her the right things. Don’t ask if she’s all right, or feeling okay or any other vague questions that are easy to evade. Look, listen and when you do ask her, make sure there’s no way for her to answer with a simple yes, no or fine. Be specific. Fuck.”
The rest of the drive to Durango is as quiet as it started. Except now I could almost hear the gears turning inside Gus’s head. Good. Time for this shit to come out into the open. Kara is stubborn—but then so is Gus.
And that reminds me, I forgot to mention to Kendra I’d spent some time with Kara. First chance I get, I’m going to take care of that.
Kendra
I smile at myself when I walk from the far end of the parking lot where I parked to the hospital’s entrance. I can feel every step. He warned me he was going to fuck me hard and he did. The rub of my tender flesh and the slight ache in my joints and muscles not only a reminder that it’s been a while, but also that I’m not getting any younger. Something I’m finally starting to believe makes absolutely no difference to Neil. I don’t think I’ve ever had my body worshipped like that before. And then this morning... I feel a blush burn up my cheeks as I think of Gus walking in.
“I missed you on Monday.”
I turn to the familiar voice of Mrs. Henderson who is dropped off by her husband twice a week for hip-replacement rehabilitation.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Henderson, I just moved to Cedar Tree and the roads were washed out,” I tell her as I hook my arm in hers and walk her into the hospital, waving at her husband driving away.
“I heard about that, County Road G, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was lucky I’d just done a big grocery run to fill up my new cupboards.”
“I’ll say. Is that country diner still there on Main Street? Been years since Buck took me there for a meal.”
Every time Mrs. Henderson calls her husband Buck, I have to fight not to burst out laughing. Mr. Henderson is no more than five foot six, if he even makes that, and so thin, a stiff wind would blow him off. To hear her talk about him, you’d think she was married to a big strapping lumberjack type, but I guess it really is all in the eye of the beholder, and Mrs. Henderson adores her husband. I’m sure to her he is all that and more. And just like that, my mind slips back to Neil.
-
“All done for today,” I tell the seventeen-year-old kid. Star receiver for the high school football team, Tom blew out his knee at the end of last season. The orthopedic surgeon had questioned if he’d play football again, but Tom was adamant he’d be ready to play the next season—his last year. Over the past few months, he’s shown more grit at his young age, than many grown-ups that come in here. He kind of reminds me of Neil. Young, smart, focused and very determined. Several colleges were interested in him before the end of last year, and he’d been assured of some interesting scholarship offers before his injury. Coming from a low-income family with four kids, Tom is well aware those scholarships were perhaps his only chance at getting an education. That’s why the kid has been working his ass off in here every chance he gets, and why I almost have to force him to stop his exercises.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” he calls out over his shoulder as he walks out.
“Three o’clock,” I remind him. “Later, Tom!”
Last patient of the day, and all that’s left is cleaning up the exercise equipment and writing up my notes. I’ll miss this place once the Cedar Tree clinic gets too busy for just the three and a half days I’m there. I’d have to give up my shift-and-a-half here. It would be nice in the winter, not to have
to go that far to get to work. I had to go the opposite way this past winter, from Cortez to Cedar Tree instead of the other way around, and there were days I’d wished I could just stay in. The roads were that traitorous.
With everything wiped down and clean for the weekend shifts and all my notes up to date, I head out into the warm late afternoon sun. I see Tom still hanging around his old pick-up truck, chatting with a friend, when I walk across the parking lot. I lift my hand in greeting as I think about what to make for dinner with the ground beef I pulled from the freezer this morning. A slight movement in the low brush at the edge of the pavement draws my attention. But when a sudden burst of wind, blowing the hair around my face, also makes the brush rustle, my thoughts turn back to dinner.
I unlock my RAV and climb in behind the wheel when I remember I’d promised Neil to check messages. I didn’t look once all day. Fudgesticks. A quick glance at my phone shows two voicemails and a bunch of texts. Mom, Naomi and Neil all texted at some point during the day, but both messages came from Neil’s number. I decide to listen to those first. When I hear his voice asking something about Lars limping, I catch the little stumble as he signs off. Not quite sure what that was, but I know it leaves my heart beating just a little faster. The second message from him is a bit more urgent, asking me to call him back right away. When I look at the time stamp, I see that it came in while I was saying goodbye to Tom.
I’m just about to call him back when suddenly the driver’s side door is yanked open. I let out a startled cry, which is almost immediately cut off when a bag is pulled over my head and a large hand clamps over my mouth. Before I have a chance to react, I’m hoisted from my car with an arm around my waist.