by Calinda B
“Maybe it’s the flu.” She shrugged, appearing light and hopeful, but her eyes betrayed deeper concern. “I get all dizzy and wonky when I get the flu.”
“Yeah. Could be.”
She put her hand in his and petted it with her other hand. “Tell you what. You can control how fast or slow we go,” she said. “Let’s move at a pace that works for you. Slow it down. But don’t stop it before it’s started. I told you, Zed, I’m already into you. I don’t need proof that we deserve a chance to see where this heads.”
The contact soothed and calmed him. His mind began to whitewash the experience, rationalizing it away. “You’re right. I have been feeling a little off lately. A good night sleep and lots of vitamins and I’ll be as good as new. I think I’ll make it an early night if you don’t mind, go home and drink orange juice or something.”
“How about we watch a movie? Eat in? I promise not to seduce you. We’ll take things slow, like I said. What do you say?”
His breath filled his cheeks then expelled through pursed lips. “Not the kind of evening I’d hoped for, but okay. We’ll take it one step at a time.” He cocked his head, squinted and regarded her. “Any chance you’d like to meet my sister, her husband, and Rickie? They’re coming to training. It’s for Rickie. He asked his dad to video me while I’m sprinting or bicycling or something. He’s excited.”
“Oh, Zed, I’d love to! When and where?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.”
“What if you’re coming down with the flu?”
The damn flu story. That’s the trouble when you grasp at lies. Zed ran his hand through his hair. “Our relaxing evening should take care of it. That and lots of vitamin C. If not…” His shoulder rose and fell. “We reschedule.”
Chapter 17
Beck knew a tall tale when she heard one. She spent the morning curled on her lone living room chair, drinking coffee, scouring the Internet, digging through her notes from the Minneapolis training, searching through her college text books for possible reasons for dissociative episodes. She’d narrowed it down to kinds of amnesia resulting from trauma, or PTSD.
Convinced Zed had more than the flu, she filed away the information, not sure how to deal with it in the light of a newly hatching relationship. It wasn’t the flu. Not even remotely. The man she’d shared the evening with was healthy and hale, at least physically. And it wasn’t her job to push. They barely knew each other, not for lack of desire.
So last night they’d consumed copious amounts of pizza and beer, snuggled on the couch watching an old Terminator movie, and made out until their lips were raw. Zed’s luscious cock seemed about to rip free of his pants and explode—damn, she wanted to get her hands on him—and she’d been in a state of agitation—what’s the female equivalent of blue balls?
That’s when the flu excuse kicked back in, at Zed’s insistence. She’d gone along with the story. Maybe Zed’s scared to get close. But what’s he scared of? What happened in his life that caused symptoms of severe trauma? “Now that’s the big mystery, isn’t it?” she said to Sidekick, as she walked him out to the kennel, eager to run into Zed’s arms when he arrived.
She returned to the house, rinsed her coffee cup, slid open the front window to enjoy the fresh morning air. Today promised a sunny, warm day. Perfect for being outdoors. She picked up her tablet and resumed her search, knowing Zed would arrive any minute.
At a quarter past ten, Beck heard pounding footsteps, scuffles and shouts outside her front door. She glanced out the front window to see an OMG total hunk Zed, wearing skintight black Lycra Nike running pants and a gray sleeveless T-shirt—so not fair…she’d never be able to keep her eyes off of him. A little guy she presumed to be Rickie raced with Zed, fighting and laughing to get to her door first.
“You don’t get to kiss her,” the boy said. The door shook with a double fisted bang and a thud. “I win!”
“I’m going to kiss her good and hard,” Zed said, picking up the boy by his waist.
“Ew, Uncle Zed, don’t!” He squealed with laughter, induced by tickles. “You’ll get cooties.”
Beck opened the door. “What if I want to kiss you?” she said to the boy.
He immediately stilled and stared at her. “Is that her?” he said, unable to remove his gaze.
“Yep. Her name is Beck. Beck, meet Rickie.” Zed set him down and focused on Beck. His eyes glittered with warmth and desire, matching her own.
Beck returned the smile and turned her attention to the child, extending her hand. “It’s my pleasure.”
Rickie still gaped at her.
Zed looked down at the stunned boy. “Little dude,” he mock-whispered, nudging the boy’s leg with his foot. “This is where you show your manners.”
“Oh, um, sorry, uncle.” He shyly extended his hand to Beck.
She smiled, took it, and gave it a firm shake. “You like Skull Soda?” she said, eyeing the blue T-shirt emblazoned with the band’s logo.
“No. I like the picture.”
“Makes sense. They’re a French band. Not much reach over here.” Beck nodded, pushing her braid over her shoulder.
“Uncle Zed played me a song.”
Beck’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Did he? Your uncle is one cool guy.”
“She looks like a model,” he whispered to Zed, eyes still glued on Beck.
“Yeah, your uncle’s a lucky man.” Zed’s grin grew wider.
“Would you like a blueberry muffin?” Beck asked. “Just made ‘em.”
Rickie, his pony-brown hair sticking out in wild clumps, turned his Crayola blue eyes toward his uncle.
“Sure. But only one. We need to scoot to the high school. You can bring it in the truck if you don’t spill crumbs on the floor.”
Rickie gave him a solemn look and said, “I promise.”
Zed mouthed over Rickie’s head, “It will never happen.”
The whole exchange made Beck’s heart open wide to the complex man who stood before her. She hadn’t given much thought to kids while with Tyler. Why subject a child to a life on the road? But Zed made her ovaries stir and sing like canaries. “Let’s get you a muffin then,” she said. “Follow me.”
She stepped into the small kitchen, pointed to the muffins and said, winking at Zed, “Pick your muffin and I’ll butter it up for you.”
Rickie studied the tray of baked goods, looking for the right one.
“Feeling better?” she asked Zed. “Flu gone?”
“Never better. Must’ve been one of those twenty-four hour things.” He slung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Hey, Rickie,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“Keep studying the muffins. I’m about to kiss Beck.”
Rickie whipped around to face them. “Ew, Uncle Zed! Don’t tell me these things.”
“It’s a part of life.”
“Not for me. I’ll never kiss a girl.”
“I’ll remind you in a few years of your oath.”
“How would you like to give my dog a cookie? He’s out in the back wondering why I locked him up so soon,” Beck said.
“You have a dog?”
“I do. Tell me which muffin you want and I’ll show you where Sidekick is. You can feed him cookies while I butter your muffin. How does that sound?”
Again Rickie looked at Zed.
“I think it’s a great idea! Sidekick is a great dog.”
“Will you come help me feed him?” Rickie asked.
“You bet. In two quick minutes I’ll be outside with you. I’ll watch through the back door while I, um, get something to drink out of the fridge.”
Rickie’s gaze slid back and forth between Zed and Beck.
Sidekick began barking from the backyard.
“Is that him?” Rickie said, turning toward the sound.
“Yep. He heard us talking about him. Here.” She lifted the lid of a ceramic cookie jar with a glossy painted bone on top. “Pick two.”
Ric
kie picked out two of the bone shaped treats.
Beck walked to the backdoor. “See him? I’ll come out with your uncle and let him out but first I have to butter that muffin.” She winked at Zed.
After a few more back and forth glances, Rickie trotted outside, cookies in tow.
“Quick,” Zed said, pulling her to him.
“I don’t need encouragement, believe me.” She melted against his mouth. Already, his kisses felt familiar and welcome. Already, she felt well matched in desire, passion, lust and companionship. And yet a wall of mystery lay between them, as solid as a fortress. Baby steps, she thought, while she still had a mind to think. Then, she simply surrendered.
One of his hands gently massaged her neck. The other grasped her hips, securing her against his erection, while he devoured her with his kiss. He rocked his hips as he did this.
“Hey!” Rickie called from the yard, indignantly.
“Ding! Time’s up!” Zed said, releasing her. “Hard to conceal wearing these pants. Maybe you could saunter out first and introduce him to Sidekick while I think of things that don’t turn me on.”
“Damn, you’re a tease with that thing,” Beck said, caressing his solid heat through the Lycra. “My hands, my mouth, every part of me wants to explore you.”
Zed’s face darkened somewhat. “I know, it’s hard to go slow. You have no idea how it pains me. But thank you for allowing that. If I put you in the middle of dan…I can’t let anything happen to you.”
He was going to say danger, I know he was! “It’s fine, baby. Let me give you time to unwind…” She glanced at the tent in his pants. “I’ll let Sidekick out of his kennel. And then we see to Rickie’s muffin and we can get on our way.”
A short time later, they were all in the truck, laughing and talking, when Zed’s phone rang. He said, “Hold on a sec, this could be Jace,” and pressed the speaker button.
“Are you alone?” a deep male voice said. “We need to talk.”
Beck’s forehead creased when Zed grew ghost white.
“No,” he said, in some strange monotone voice.
“Are you lying?”
“Why would I lie to you? You’ve got that covered. And I’ve got you on speakerphone. Several people are in the truck with me.”
“Is that Uncle Lawson?” Rickie asked.
The line went dead. Zed’s mood went even deader.
“Was that your brother, baby?” Beck asked softly.
“Yeah. One and the same. I should…I need…” He pulled into a gas station and said, “One sec. I need to take care of something.” He hopped from the truck before Beck could say anything and strode a few yards away.
“So, you’re excited your uncle is going to be in the race?” Beck asked Rickie, nervously glancing where Zed stood.
“Yeah. He’s going to save Murphy and his mom.”
“Let’s hope so. How are the seals doing?”
“They’re sea lions, not seals.”
“Excuse me, how are the sea lions doing?”
“Both are stable,” Rickie said.
Zed dragged a hand through his hair. “Fuck no! I’m not going to get you any more money,” he yelled. He glanced over his shoulder at the truck and took a few steps away, out of earshot.
Beck nodded, thinking Rickie repeated the words he heard. “Do you know what it means to be stable?” She turned to look at him in the back seat.
“Of course. It means they’re out of danger.”
“I’ll bet you’re relieved.”
“Yeah. Mom said she’s going to contribute to the Adopt a Sea Lion Program. Maybe we can adopt Murphy.”
“Is there a fund for that? I’d be willing to donate.”
“Would you? That would be awesome!” Rickie turned to look at his uncle. “He doesn’t look too happy.”
“No,” Beck agreed. “He doesn’t. But your uncle is a smart man. Whatever’s bugging him, he can resolve it.”
“He’s good that way.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yeah. He’s probably mad at Uncle Lawson for being in the race.”
Beck’s heart rate began to accelerate. “Why would you think that?”
“Uncle Lawson is mean to him. That’s what Mom says.”
“Do you like Uncle Lawson?”
“No.” Rickie fixed his innocent eyes on Beck. “He’s never very nice to me. I don’t get to see him much, but he’s not nice to me like Uncle Zed. He ruffles my hair too hard and talks to me like I’m a baby. I don’t know why he’s racing to save Murphy. Mom says he’s a glory hog.”
Beck smiled, thinking Zed would be thrilled to hear that. “Do you know what a glory hog is?”
Zed now gesticulated wildly as he spoke into the phone, still yelling. He’d wandered into a field making it impossible to hear what he said.
Rickie rolled his eyes again. “He wants all the attention. Duh!”
“Well, I wondered what a glory hog might be. Thank you for explaining it.” She eyed Zed as he stalked back to the truck. He appeared like some demonic warrior marching back from combat.
He slid into his seat, clutching his phone. He carefully placed it on the dash, took several deep breaths and said, “Sorry, guys. I had to…I had to return that call.” He pasted on the fakest smile Beck had ever seen. “Let’s go. I’m ready to show you my mad skills, Rickie.”
“Are you mad at Uncle Lawson?”
“Oh, we’re having an adult disagreement, but we’ll sort it out. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” Rickie said. “What will you be doing today? Running? Biking? Swimming?”
“Today,” Zed said, making his voice sound conspiratorial. “I’ll start by racing you. What do you think about that?”
“I’ll win!”
“I have no doubt. And then I’ll race you and Beck on bikes.”
“Cool! Is Mom bringing my wheels?”
“Yep, and I’ve got a bike for Beck in the back of the truck.”
“I’ll beat her, too!”
“I’m scared,” Beck said. She said it in a teasing voice but truth be told, she really was scared—for Zed.
“Don’t be scared. Try your best,” Rickie said sagely. “That’s what Mom always tells me.”
“Good advice. I’ll remember that. That’s good advice for all of us.” She reached out and took Zed’s hand. He seemed to squeeze it gratefully, glancing at her before training his eyes on the road. Whatever he and his brother were going through, Beck had every intention of being on Zed’s side and seeing it through. She and Zed could handle whatever it was—right? Can’t we? How can I handle what I don’t know?
Chapter 18
His mind a frothing stew, Zed pulled into the parking lot of the high school. My fucking brother needs another payoff for his blackmailer? Hell to the no. “Okay,” he said brightly, aware his mood was being extruded like meat through a grinder—in other words, forced into something palatable. What he really wanted to do was yell and scream in a full on, out of control tantrum like Cerise might do. “Who’s ready to try and beat me?” he said, in the voice of an upbeat psycho.
“I am!” called Rickie, unclipping his seat belt and hustling out of the back seat.
“We need to talk, baby,” Beck said. “I’m concerned about you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can work things out.” He squeezed her hand before opening the side door.
“Come on, Uncle Zed! I’m ready!” Rickie called through the window.
“Sweetheart, it’s like there’s an elephant in the room with us.”
Zed’s face grew stony and he stared out the windshield.
“More like King Kong,” she quipped.
A small smile formed on his face.
“Uncle Zed! Come on!”
“Let’s do this,” Zed said.
“You’re really sweet with Rickie,” Beck said, rolling with the topic change.
“I don’t know about sweet, but I adore him to pieces.” Zed smiled. “Don’
t forget, you called me a burly cowboy. I don’t want to tarnish my reputation and have people think I’m a sissy.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Beck said, giving him one of her dazzling smiles.
“Thanks, honey.” He leaned across the seat and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.
“Stop kissing her!” Rickie called. “Let’s race.”
Once they stood at the back of the truck, Zed hefted both the bicycles from the truck bed, handing one to Beck. “I know this is a guy’s bike but hopefully you can manage.”
“I’ll pretend to be a guy,” Beck said.
“Don’t dare. I like you as you are.”
“Why, thank you, sir.” Beck batted her eyelashes at him, making him feel all hot where it counted and melty where it mattered. “Rickie doesn’t like Lawson,” she continued.
Zed brightened. “He doesn’t?”
“Nope, you don’t have to worry—he adores you. I do, too.”
A sunrise happening in his heart, he reached for Beck’s hand. Damn. The girl’s unraveling me, inch by inch. He and Beck walked the bikes toward the small crowd in the distance, gathered in the short, green grass in the middle of the huge, extremely old-school pulverized cinder ash oval track. The school was currently raising funds to enter the 21st Century with a track made of synthetic vulcanized rubber.
A cyclone fence lined the track, separating the school environment from the large tree-dotted field on the other side. Zed remembered escaping to the field with a girl a time or two, when he’d left Waldo behind. It had been easy to have sex back then—no psycho killer to quash his mood. Only a bully brother who stole his girlfriends.
Still, he’d managed to find girls willing to have sex with him. Now he felt tormented by his passionate desire for Beck, in conflict with his need to protect her from his family troubles—more like sibling trouble, one murderous sibling in particular.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet, Beck. Beck, this is my sister, Caitlin, her husband, Jeff, their two babies Cerise and Tiffany, and Zoé, Jace’s wife, with their child Marni.”
“Hello, everyone,” Beck said, without a trace of self-consciousness. She extended her hand to each person. “Gorgeous children. I’m happy to meet you all. Jace,” she said with a nod.