by Deborah Camp
“I’ll do what I can,” Trudy said, lamely. She met Levi’s gaze and rolled her eyes. “Where do you want to meet for breakfast?”
“There’s a sweet, little café on North Main my cousin owns. It’s called The Patchwork Quilt. Can you be there by seven-thirty?”
“Seven-thirty?” She grinned when Levi vigorously shook his head. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
“Okay! ’Bye now.”
“She hasn’t told him about hiring you,” Levi noted. “He’s going to shit a brick.”
Trudy tucked the phone back into her purse. “She’s an early riser, I guess.”
“And you aren’t, so why did you agree to that?”
“It’s business and I’m supposed to please the client to the best of my ability. Besides, with the early meeting, we can head back to Tulsa that much sooner.” She sighed. “I’ll have to cut my visit with my family short, but they’ll understand.”
“One more night in the tin can.”
“Oh, stop!” She punched him in the shoulder. “Did I ever tell you my favorite RV saying? No?” She leaned close so that her lips brushed the side of his neck. “If the RV is a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.” Laughing, she drew back before he could claim a kiss. “Keep your eyes on the road, Wolfe.”
He growled low in his throat, but concentrated on getting them back to the KOA campground. Parking beside her motorhome, he switched off the engine, but instead of getting out, he put his hand on her knee, holding her in place.
“What did she say about me?”
Her first instinct was to deflect him, but the directness of his gaze nixed that. “Not much. She mentioned that John has told her that you two don’t get along.”
His chuckle was dry and raspy. “We get along fine as long as he stays away from me.” His fingers tightened on her knee. “Trudy, I don’t want you to talk about me to that woman. You understand?”
She sucked in a breath, bulldozed by his order. “Of course, I won’t!” Shoving his hand off her knee, she was out of the car before he could react, slamming the door behind her. His lack of faith in her stung and she didn’t try to hide it from him as she stomped to the RV and yanked her keychain from her purse to unlock the door. “That you would even say that to me! It infuriates me.” When his fingers touched her shoulder, she jerked away “Don’t! And don’t say anything to me unless it’s an apology!”
Red color washed across his face and he spoke through gritted teeth, “I’m sorry. I was only reminding you—.”
“You never trust me to do the right thing.” She unlocked the door and threw it open, pounding up the two steps and heading for the bedroom with Mouse on her heels. She would have closed the door behind her, but Levi was in her way.
He pushed Mouse backwards into the hall with his foot and closed the door, shutting Mouse out. In the bedroom, he confronted Trudy. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? You’re being a hothead.”
“Better than being a butt-hole like you!”
He had the audacity to grin at her. Before she could sass him again, he hooked an arm around her waist and tugged her up against him. His mouth claimed hers, hot and demanding, and his wicked tongue licked inside, igniting a flame in her belly that spread to her thighs. He moaned into her mouth and his other hand spread across her hip, pressing her against the ridge of his erection.
His lips peeled away from hers and he waited for her lashes to lift before he said, “You want to fight me, baby? Is that what you want?”
It took a few moments for her to remember she was irritated with him. “I want you to trust me.”
“I want that, too.” He wiped the hat off her head and pushed her feathery bangs off her forehead, his gaze moving seductively over her hair, her face, her throat. “Trusting someone completely isn’t something I’ve done in . . . almost forever. But I’m trying, Tru. For you, I’m trying. I trust you more than anyone. Please believe that.”
The earnestness in his expression gentled her, coaxed her into a better mood. Growing warm, she wiggled from his embrace and unbuttoned her coat. She hung it in the closet and picked her hat up off the floor where it had fallen. Levi removed his coat and handed it to her to put in the closet. As she arranged his peacoat onto a hanger, the fight ebbed from her.
“Gloves off?” he asked, coming up behind her and hugging her. He kissed her ear, then nipped the lobe. “Or do you still want to go another round with me? I’m game if you are, slugger.”
“You can be such an arrogant ass,” she murmured, turning around in his arms to confront his lopsided grin. “You don’t trust me more than you do Dr. McLain.”
His smile slipped a little. “That’s different. I tell her things so that I can heal and her trust is assured because of a professional commitment. My commitment to you is personal. Intensely . . . passionately . . . deeply . . . personal.” He punctuated the words with kisses on her eyelids and nose. “Being near my father’s pulpit won’t get any easier for me, Tru. I’m going to be a . . . what was it? Butt-hole? A butt-hole from time to time. If you think I’ll make this more difficult for you, I’ll stay away.”
“No.” His nearness was working its magic on her. The scent of his aftershave filled her head with visions of his toned body and talented lips and tongue. She clutched his sweater in her fists and flattened herself against him. “I want you here. With me. I did overreact. I’m edgy.” She ran her teeth across his full, lower lip and studied him through the veil of her lashes. “It’s close to that time of the month, so I’m moody.”
One black brow climbed his forehead. “That means no nookie for me for five or six days – unless you change your mind and let me—.”
“No.” She shook her head with finality even as she giggled at his countrified euphemism. He’d already let her know he had no qualms about having intercourse during her menses, but she did. Smoothing her hands down the front of his sweater, she dipped them underneath it and his t-shirt to stroke his hair-roughened chest. “But I’m good to go now . . . if you’re interested.”
“Interested?” His mouth swooped to hers, his arms tightening around her as he lifted her off her feet and walked with her a few steps to the bed. “Yeah. I’m interested.”
Setting her on her feet again, he yanked his sweater and t-shirt up and over his head, mussing his hair and somehow looking even sexier to her.
“Do you realize how crazy you make me?” he asked, his lips finding hers again. His busy hands divested her of her sweater and unfastened her wool slacks. “I keep wondering, when am I going to stop catching my breath every time you walk into the room and when am I going to stop getting an instant hard-on every time I think of how you taste, how you smell, how you feel.” He let go of her to remove his boots and socks. “Is all that stuff supposed to stop at some point or is it all part of being in love? What do you think?”
“I think you’re adorable, that’s what I think.” She twirled around once, giving in to the giddiness his confession had produced and then fell back onto the queen-sized bed. She gripped her waistband, but his fingers were already there and he peeled the slacks down her hips and legs. “And I think I’m a lucky girl to be loved by you,” she added, locking gazes with him as desire blew through her like a restless wind.
Passion darkened his eyes to midnight blue. Slowly, teasingly, he shed his last garments. Daylight slanted through the blinds, striping his muscled form with winter white. Trudy marveled at the interesting contours of the masculine form. He had a “six pack” and that sexy V shape below his navel. Lower, three veins pushed against his skin, sending blood to his engorged penis. His body fascinated her and what he could do with it made her squirm with sweet anticipation.
“Take off your bra.” His tone was authoritative. He used his “bedroom” voice – deeper, raspier, sexier.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she reached around, unclipped her bra, and flung it aside. Her nipples puckered under the hunger of Levi’s eyes. She parted her thighs, drawing his gaze th
ere and watched his face tighten, his lips part, and his chest lift with a big breath. A growl rumbled from him as he covered her body with his and took her mouth in a deep, tongue-seducing kiss. He cupped her breasts in his hands and his fingers teased one nipple while he sucked the other into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth.
“Levi, Levi,” she moaned and wove her fingers through his thick, silky hair. “Mmm, what you do to me.”
“What?” He licked her other nipple, making it tingle. “Tell me. Talk to me, Trudy.”
She opened her eyes, realizing he was serious. Talk. With words? She went blank.
He squeezed her nipples between his thumbs and fingers, making her suck in a breath. “How does that feel?” He shoved one hand between her legs and inserted two fingers inside her. “Jesus, you’re wet! Does that feel good? Talk to me. Tell me.” His fingers plunged in and out, in and out, and then curled up to touch her in that slightly spongy place that made stars burst behind her eyelids. She clutched at his shoulders as the world began to spin around her.
“Oh . . .oh! It feels . . . you feel . . . like nothing I ever felt before you,” she said between sipping breaths. “I think I must have been born in love with you. My body responds to yours like it has being lying in wait for you.”
“Baby, baby,” he groaned as he reared above her on arms knotted with muscles and thrust into her. “I fucking love the way you talk.” He flung back his head, his eyes shut, his lips parted, and in that frozen moment he looked to her like a wolf baying at the moon. “Fuuuck, it’s always so crazy good with you.” His sooty lashes lifted and his blue eyes met her green ones. A lazy, hazy smile tilted his lips and he let his head loll forward. “I never believed in much before you,” he whispered, his voice a little strained. “I didn’t believe in fate or charisma and certainly not love. Now look at me! I’m a goddamn Disney character, I’m so smitten and corny.”
She turned her cheek into the pillow and giggled at the mere thought of Leviticus Wolfe as Prince Charming or even the spellbound Beast. He leaned into her, his mouth and tongue skimming down the column of her throat as his hips undulated, hitting several inner erogenous spots that made her writhe and begin to pant.
He’s so good at this, she thought as he rocked his hips into hers with practiced ease, and she was always more than happy to let him reign supreme in bed. Her body coiled with each measured thrust and passion fogged her brain.
“So deep . . . so deep,” she whispered, running her hands along his sides to revel in the flex of muscles under his hot skin. “Oooh, yes! Just like that. Harder. Don’t you dare stop!” She dug her fingers into his hips, holding on as he rammed into her.
When she thought he might be close to his release, he surprised her by suddenly rolling her onto her side and spooning her. He folded her legs up against her breasts and held them there as he entered her again, the angle driving the head of his penis along her clitoris and against her G-spot with every powerful stroke. The world blew apart, sending her spinning out of control. She felt Levi’s hot breath beating against the side of her neck. Her throat ached and she was dimly aware of gasping and moaning every time he plunged into her, spreading her, filling her. He kissed her shoulder, grunted, stilled, and then thrust hard into her, spilling forth.
“Ah, ah, ah.” His teeth pinched her skin in the crook of her neck as he jetted one more time inside her. “Ahhh.” He kissed her throat, her ear, her hair. “You’re mine, Trudy Tucker.”
“I know,” she said on a smile, idly wondering if he’d ever stop saying that to her. It was almost as if he were repeatedly staking his claim.
“I think it’s time that everyone knows.”
Huh? She held her breath for a moment as she rolled those words over and over. “It’s enough that we know.”
“Is it?”
“Of course. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so.”
She felt him slide out of her and she straightened out her legs. He stroked her from shoulder to waist to hip and she almost wanted to purr. “Should we take out a newspaper ad?” she teased him.
“Leave it to me. I’ll come up with something.” His tone was supremely confident, then he curled his fingers around her chin, bringing her lips to his so that he could press his smile to hers.
Chapter 5
AmyLynn was already seated in a booth with a steaming cup of coffee in front of her when Trudy entered the café. She smiled at her, although Trudy noted that her eyes glimmered with sadness rather than happiness. Rachel’s “Missing” poster was taped several places in the café. The girl in her visions never smiled like that twinkling-eyed child on the flier. Trudy looked away quickly as sadness threatened to give way to tears.
AmyLynn’s mother was nowhere in sight and Trudy relaxed a little. Hester Sikes put her on edge. AmyLynn waved her over and Trudy sat across from her. The café was small and half of the booths and tables were occupied by people who were enjoying steaming cups of coffee and platters of eggs, sausages, and pancakes.
“Want some coffee?” AmyLynn asked.
“Yes.”
“Ginny, hon, we need another coffee over here,” AmyLynn called out to the waitress behind the counter before facing Trudy again. She wore an orange and gray patterned sweater dress and big gold hoop earrings that Bohemian Quintara would have appreciated. “You want some breakfast?”
“No, thanks.” She’d made plans with Levi to have breakfast with him after the meeting with AmyLynn. He’d dropped her off at the café and then drove on to the police station where he planned to do some business for her since he had more experience handling cops. “But you go ahead and order something for yourself.”
AmyLynn shook her head and folded her hands around the cup. “My stomach is always in knots these days. I don’t have much of an appetite.” When she lifted her gaze to Trudy, her brown eyes swam with tears. “I had a bad dream about Rachel last night. In it, a man was holding her and she struggled and tried to break free, but he wouldn’t let her go. She was crying and sobbing.” She sucked in a noisy breath and swallowed it. “I dream about her every night. Sometimes they’re good dreams and sometimes – like last night – they’re really bad.” She drilled Trudy with her pain-laden gaze. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? You wouldn’t take advantage of me?”
Ginny, the waitress, approached and set a cup and saucer in front of Trudy. She poured black coffee into it. “Cream and sugar’s on the table. Can I get you two anything else?”
“No, thanks, hon.” AmyLynn swiped at her eyes and plastered her smile back on her coral colored lips.
Ginny patted her shoulder. “We’re all praying for her.”
AmyLynn rested her hand on Ginny’s and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“I don’t know how you do it, girl,” Ginny said. “Still appearing on TV and all with the worries you got now.” Ginny shook her head in either awe or puzzlement, then gave Trudy the once-over, making no attempt to hide her curiosity, before she headed off with coffee pot in hand to top off more cups.
Trudy sought and held AmyLynn’s gaze. “I don’t lie and I certainly don’t take advantage of people. I was born with this ability and I’ve learned how to use it to help people. What I’m able to do, if you will, is a gift from God.”
AmyLynn pressed her dove-dotted fingernails against her pillowy lips to smother her squeak of relief.
“I’ll keep you informed on any progress I make. Do you want me to contact you by e-mail, text . . ?”
“Text me.” She opened her Michael Kors black handbag and pulled Trudy’s contract from it. “Here’s my contact information.” She tapped the top sheet of paper. “My e-mail address, phone numbers, and all that. And here’s your contract and a cashier’s check for your retainer fee. You’ll start right away?”
“I’ve already begun,” Trudy assured her. “I have to go back to Tulsa to see my family and pack some more clothes, but I’ll be in Cotton within a day or two and devote myself
entirely to finding Rachel.” She glanced through the contract, signed both of them, and handed one copy back to her new client. “There you go. Thank you.” She folded the papers and tucked them and the check into her seen-better-days, second-hand Coach purse. “Now, could I ask you a few questions?”
“Anything. I want to help.”
Trudy added cream to her coffee and drank some of it before diving into the questions she knew would stir up bad memories for the distraught mother. “So, Rachel was attending an overnight campout?”
“That’s right. It was a reward for the children who had raised money for the expansion of our studio in the ministry building. Several churches have a few cabins at Reelfoot Lake and we use them for different activities – married couple retreats, family fishing tournaments, and things like that. They arrived on Friday. They all went fishing and they had a cookout. They spent Friday and Saturday nights there and were coming home Sunday morning after a Bible service.” Her lower lip trembled. “But Rachel went missing Saturday night.”
“From what I’ve read, she was last seen by a girl who shared the room with her.”
“That’s right. Essie Crowder. It’s a room with twin beds. Essie said she and Rachel talked for a while and then drifted off to sleep. When she woke up the next morning, Rachel wasn’t in her bed. She said she never heard anything or saw anything.”
“Were there any signs of a struggle?”
“No.” AmyLynn gulped down some of the coffee and the cup clattered against her teeth in her trembling hands. “It was as if she simply vanished.” She tipped her head to one side. “Like in Revelations, except she was the only one who was taken.” She shivered and finished the coffee. “That gives me the willies. I can’t seem to think of anything except where she is, what’s she’s doing, or how I can get to her.”
“How soon did the police arrive on the scene?”
“I don’t rightly know.” AmyLynn blinked her long, thick, unreal lashes. “I wasn’t there. The police called us a little after eight in the morning. I was getting ready for our Sunday morning broadcast and John answered the phone. I knew the moment he looked at me that something had happened to Rachel.” She closed her eyes, visibly gathering herself, before continuing. “Reelfoot is in Tennessee, so it’s Tennessee law enforcement that’s involved.”