Her mind drifted back to Jacob. The delicious scent she’d inhaled when she entered the building must have belonged to him.
“Your destiny lies with him. Follow your heart and be safe.”
She swung around, expecting to find Tilly laughing at her. The woman liked to laugh with her whole body. She’d smile with lips painted bright red and her gray hair gathered on top of her head in a frizzy bun.
Turning the other way, she didn’t see her friend. In fact, only other students sat nearby. Shaking her head to clear the strange words from her mind, she concentrated on the framed photo of the deceased girl. She’d been pretty, and looked about twenty years old.
She looks familiar. I probably saw her at the dining hall.
Twenty was too young to die—especially at the hands of another, if the rumor of murder was true. Destiny had come to listen to the dead girl’s eulogy in order to show her respect.
“When the service ends, I’ll confront Jacob.”
“Hush!”
“Sorry!” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. She’d walk right up to him so he couldn’t ignore her. At the sudden memory of more intimate meetings, where little talking occurred, her chest tightened. Like last night, when he cornered her in the local drugstore. She’d been so lonely she’d stopped to buy a new romance novel. Browsing the selection, she picked up a book whose cover sported a muscular, half-naked highland warrior. A dark haired maiden, with adoration smoldering in her eyes, kneeled at his feet. A small sigh slipped out at the same time a shadow fell over her shoulder.
“What are you reading, Miss Blake? Looks very interesting,” Jacob had asked in the nearly empty store.
“This? Just a little light reading. The nights are getting longer, you know.” Destiny remembered how she turned away from his cold, black eyes and returned the book to its slot, her fingers shaking.
“So,” she continued, squaring her shoulders, and faced him. “How have you been?”
She’d kept her voice from trembling. She didn’t want him to feel she’d missed him, after all.
“I am doing just fine.” His finger had stroked her cheek, and her skin heated at his touch.
Before she could step back, his other hand dug into her hip. He stared straight at her but his hesitation puzzled her. She watched as he scanned nearby aisles before he returned his gaze to her face.
“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?” he whispered.
His voice had rumbled low and sexy. Heat had spread through her entire body at the images that popped into her head. Silky moisture dampened her most intimate juncture.
He sniffed the air.
Did he know? When he’d bent lower, she had hoped he meant to kiss her.
“Destiny? Where are you?” Josie Miller called her name, breaking the spell.
Destiny had turned back to Jacob, but his hands had already dropped. She remembered how her shoulders slumped and her heart went thud. She’d stood there, frozen in shock, while he’d turned and sauntered away before she found the power to utter another word. From that moment, she had vowed to find out why they couldn’t be together.
That opportunity is now.
The drugstore encounter proved their feelings for one another hadn’t disappeared. She’d wanted to taste his warm lips as much as he wanted to kiss hers. Her throat still tingled from his warm breath. She remembered his fingers as they’d dug into her hips, causing tingles to surge up and down her spine. She ached for a simple word of love, but he’d vanished.
These sensations were worth fighting for. What had happened in her bed was too special—no, too precious—to lose.
When the memorial service came to a close, Destiny burst from her seat and ran up the aisle. She glanced all around, but didn’t spot him inside. Dejected, she stumbled through the crowd and out into the cold November air. No sign of Jacob.
“Where is he?”
She suddenly felt other eyes boring into her back. Turning slowly, Marcus stared at her from across the plaza, sitting on a high stonewall that overlooked the auditorium entrance.
“Does Marcus think I’m looking for him?”
A wicked smile crossed his face. In the gray light of late afternoon, she shivered, again. Zipping her coat closed, she wondered why he even came out today. She fought the urge to smack the grin from his face. She had the feeling if she gave him the time of day, he’d assume she’d screw him all night long as her thanks.
Men are pigs.
Remembering Jacob Oliver, she recalled how he’d treated her with kindness and love. Why couldn’t he have saved her from having to deal with Marcus and Pete? Both men acted like they planned to punish her for leading them on, all these months.
All I want is to be left alone.
When Marcus jumped down and stood in the shadows of a still- dark lamppost, she turned and walked away at a brisk pace. Night fell quicker these days. Soon, streetlights would pop on.
When Destiny reached the path to the dining hall, her shoulders drooped. She let out a big sigh and thought about the dinner crowd, to take her mind off Jacob, Marcus, and Pete.
An extra-large crowd was expected. Most students were still grieving and might search out others for reassurance in a time of crisis.
“Tilly’s home cooking will comfort them all,” she said to a coworker as they entered the kitchen together.
“I hear ya. They can sit, eat, and commiserate here in the safety of the dining hall. Did you just come from the service, too?”
“Yes. I didn’t know the dead girl.”
“What a shame. She seemed so young and pretty. She coulda’ been me.”
“What do you mean?” Destiny asked, as she tied her red apron around her waist then pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
“I mean, I been on dates with guys I just met and they’ve driven me to places I ain’t never been. Anyone could hook up with a stranger and let down her guard, if she likes him.”
Destiny’s shiver returned. Hadn’t she acted in such a way with Jacob, a perfect stranger? Sure, the man lay injured in her bed, but no one knew they were together at her cabin for two days. He could have killed her, if he were a murderer.
“What a waste of a lovely girl,” Tilly added. She stood beside a massive stove and stirred a huge pot of steaming soup.
“I agree,” Destiny mumbled.
“And if this Cindy Nelson has been murdered, then your lifestyle has got to change, girl.”
“Tilly, I don’t think I—”
“You live on a mountain, in the woods, in a lonely cabin far from roads or neighbors. Sound familiar?” Hands on hips, the tiny woman glared at her in a way that made Destiny feel challenged for simply wanting peace and independence.
“I know. That’s why I rented it.” The promise of solitude had beckoned. Now, living alone might prove dangerous. With a quick wave, an act more heroic than she felt, she got to work.
Other coworkers talked in hushed tones about calls they received from their parents. Upset about the girl’s death, many families wanted them to transfer to another school.
“I know three students who already quit this school to transfer to a safer campus,” another worker added.
“Yeah,” said an older fellow, stacking dishes, “Fairfield has been safe for ages. Now, rumors about what happened to that girl are spreading like wildfire.”
“Are the police doing anything?” Destiny asked.
“They followed a time line in order to track down her whereabouts during the weeks before her body was found. They’ve been asking folks lots of questions.”
“Any clues?”
“I think,” said an older man emptying a trash barrel, “I think they said she’d spent one of her last days on a school field trip to Boston.”
“I heard that, too,” said the younger girl, “with that cute art history teacher’s class.”
“Professor Oliver?” Destiny blurted.
“That’s the one!”
Sweat da
mpened Destiny’s forehead while she transferred burgers from the kitchen to platters under heat lamps. A trembling gloved hand wiped her brow. Both hands were as wrinkled as prunes inside her disposable gloves. Beads of perspiration dripped down her back, crawling along the sensitive valley just above her waistband.
She forced Jacob’s image from her thoughts as her shift dragged on. She did not care to think about the dead girl any longer, either. She wanted to go home. A long, hot shower might work to eliminate the discomfort their images produced. She’d climb into bed with a good book, sleep late, and plan her week when she got up.
Closer to closing, Destiny returned to the dining room to collect trays and wipe down tables. The clanging of dirty plates jangled her nerves and her head throbbed. She set a heavy stack of dirty dishes and trays at the kitchen’s slide-through window. Wincing, she removed her gloves, arched her aching back, and squeezed the nape of her neck.
A clammy palm pressed into the small of her back over her thin shirt, and before she could respond, slithered up to rest around her sore neck. She dropped her own hand and straightened in alarm until the intruder began kneading the muscles of her shoulders. The action dulled her senses and eased her pain.
“That’s nice. Thanks,” she sighed. Lost in sensation, she ignored the silence. After several minutes, Destiny turned around in order to again thank the kind person.
Shocked surprise froze her where she stood, as she stared into the cold, piercing gaze belonging to one of the last men on Earth she wanted to see.
Or feel.
***
Jacob stopped in his tracks and stared at the sight enfolding in front of him. He’d just left the windowless confines of the teacher’s lounge to return his tray to the collection window, and came across the tender scene.
He stood mesmerized while Marcus’s hands caressed Destiny, who appeared to enjoy his student’s attention. Silverware on his tray rattled as Jacob’s hands trembled. Simmering heat came to a boil as jealousy morphed into rage. He dropped the tray on the nearest table with a loud clatter and then hurried from the dining hall. He burst through the door into the cold, clear evening air, struggling to calm his body and to hide his reaction to the couple. He should have gone home for supper.
“Catch your breath, fool. Destiny belongs to Marcus, and you mean nothing to her,” he spat, and clenched his jaw.
His head spun and his lungs fought to take in air. Collapsing on a nearby park bench, he put his head between his knees to breathe, forcing away the pinpricks of darkness. Pain clawed at him, raw and devastating, and the sensation shocked him. How could he feel so much for her when she had obviously moved on?
Rubbing a hand over his stomach, striving to disregard the aches in his knee and in his heart, he sat up and wiped his eyes. Slipping on his ski jacket, he started across campus. As he limped toward his apartment, he made a feeble attempt to enjoy the long walk in the gray of evening, but shadows fell across his heart.
***
Destiny’s mouth fell open, shocked to find the hand around her neck belonged to Marcus. As she opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, Marcus leaned forward and captured her lips with his massive mouth. His tongue slipped in and out before he pulled away with a loud, wet, smack.
His wicked grin turned her stomach. His unpleasant, musky odor clogged her nostrils. She responded to his continued touch with a quick retreat, stepping back out of reach.
“Marcus, listen to me very carefully. Don’t. Touch. Me. Again. If you come near me, I’ll scream bloody murder.”
“Now, baby doll, is that anyway to—”
“You disgust me. I loathe everything about you. It’s my fault for not making this clear. Back off, or you’ll be sorry.” With that said, she turned on her heels and marched into the kitchen, but felt a thud when her ponytail slapped him in the face.
Tilly leaned from the drop-off window. What must she think after witnessing the conversation between the young woman she regarded as a daughter and the burly football star? Destiny had missed Marcus’s savage smile when she escaped into the kitchen, but Tilly’s nod made her turn. She saw everything, as did Tilly. Being Tilly, she barely waited to share her opinion on the situation.
Destiny sighed then shivered when she caught something he mumbled. It sounded like he said, “You’ll get your reward soon enough.”
She didn’t like the sound of that.
“That man is licking his lips as if savoring the taste of you on his tongue. Disgusting,” Tilly said.
Destiny breathed easier when Tilly turned her gray-topped head toward her kitchen duties while she watched the brute turn and strut out of the dining hall.
She had better watch herself around that one. She couldn’t wait to tell Josie everything. She found the perfect chance when Josie called and invited her to a potluck supper at the firehouse.
“You can’t stay cooped up forever. You’ve been so unhappy.”
“Please change the subject.”
“Fine, but please come. We’re hosting the annual pot-luck supper for local deer hunters.”
“And you guys do this, why?”
“To raise money for a new ambulance. Everyone brings something in a casserole or crock-pot, and we bake brownies at the station.”
“Okay, I’ll be there. What can I bring? Too late to cook.”
“A beverage? We always run dry,” Josie said.
After racing home and cleaning up, Destiny threw on some comfortable clothes then stopped at the corner store for a keg. When she showed up at the firehouse with the ice-cold beer, Pete Thayer was the first to reach her and her burden.
“Let me help you with this, sweetheart.” Even with his flirty words, she’d been happy to have anyone carry the keg. Catching her by surprise, Pete had covered her hands with his while giving her a wicked smile.
“Thanks,” Destiny mumbled, pulling her hands away from his strong grasp, and went to find her friend. She offered to help in the kitchen. Carrying a large bowl of potato salad toward the buffet, the fire alarm shrieked. She felt the men’s stares as she bobbled the bowl. She hugged the bowl to her chest, took a breath, and then set it on the table. Hands free, she clutched one over her thudding heart.
“That’s loud enough to wake the dead.”
The men groaned then bolted toward the fire trucks parked outside. Josie raced from the kitchen, threw her apron at Destiny, and jumped inside the ambulance. As Destiny waved goodbye, the speaker sputtered news about the call.
***
Later, after the crew returned, she ran to the kitchen pantry to grab more napkins. As she searched the shelves and cartons, the door closed behind her and the ceiling light flicked off.
“Who’s there?” she asked, trying hard to sound calm. She knew the answer a moment later when a man’s smoky drawl drifted through the dark.
“I never thought I’d get you alone, sweetheart. Josie and you are like two peas in a pod. I just want to talk.” Pete never acted the way he said, which he proved the moment one arm curled around her waist like a snake around a mouse.
“Pete, we’ve been through this before. I’m not interested.” Pressing both hands against his chest, she pushed. Without warning, his mouth descended, claiming hers. His lips crushed hers flat against her teeth while his hands groped her breasts.
“Stop!” She pushed again. He chuckled in the dark as if toying with her attempt to shove him away.
“You’re making a big mistake, sweetheart. You and I can be great together, especially in bed. They’d call us the golden ones. We’re like a matched set.”
“No!”
He released her and she toppled into a shelf. Rubbing the bruise forming along her upper arm, she groped in the dark for the doorknob. When she hurried back to the party, he laughed. Things only got worse when she ran smack dab into Marcus Benton. The napkins she was carrying fluttered to the ground. She bent to pick them up and tried to ignore the other man who’d kissed her earlier today while she did her best
not to look behind to see if Pete followed.
“You’d think you’d get enough of that at the dining hall.”
Marcus’ statement caught her off guard. “What?”
“Why are you doing grunt work when you and I could be more pleasantly occupied?”
“Excuse me. Josie needs these.” She slipped past him and headed for the dining area, Happily, he walked off to talk with a tall black man. She forced the unpleasant encounters from her head, enjoyed some food, and then left. Her tires crunched on powdery snow while tears threatened. Snow sputtered from the sky.
Will this storm stick?
She steered her van through dark woods to her lonely cabin. With no moon to light the way, she drove with care. Why had both Pete and Marcus gotten so bold? She hadn’t led them on, and never showed any interest.
She maneuvered her van into the snow-dusted parking area in front of her dark cabin and then recalled a single regret. She wished Jacob had been at the party.
***
Jacob mounted the steps to his apartment one at a time. Wrenching open the door, he switched off the security system. His alarm company had been very busy this past week, evident by several installation trucks stationed outside neighboring homes.
People were uneasy, and he couldn’t blame them. They walked in groups, and the neighborhood children played indoors. People drove everywhere or walked to town in pairs.
The loneliness of his apartment failed to offer comfort. He poured himself a glass of scotch, but left it on the kitchen counter. A best-selling novel sat unopened on his bedside table. He thought of going to bed, but sleep always twisted into tortured dreams. He woke early every morning sweaty and even more tired, all because his thoughts dwelled on Destiny Blake.
Stripping on his way to the master bathroom, letting his clothes fall to the cold floor, he trudged along. He used to be so careful with his belongings. He used to hang up his things and make his bed, but despair draped over him like a coat of dingy whitewash.
Cool air crept along his naked body as he padded across the bathroom tiles, oblivious to their frigid surface. He twisted the shower dial and stepped inside the large, walk-in shower without waiting for the water to heat.
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