by Bonnie Gill
Abby decided right then, she didn’t like her. Not only did she coat on the cover girl, it had to cost a lot to look that cheap. Plus, it didn’t help she was hanging on River. Pepper had warned her that Charlotte may make an appearance tonight. She also told her that for some strange reason, the woman’s husbands had a nasty habit of dropping dead.
Charlotte pouted. “River, will you check my house again. My window wasn’t locked and I want to make sure no one has broken in.”
“I’m off duty right now. Did you try the deputy?” He took a swig of his beer.
“I don’t trust his judgment. Please.” She bent over to give them a full view of the valley between the twin mountains. River looked at Abby in an apologetic way.
“What if someone attacks me?” Desperation blanketed Charlotte’s pleading voice.
Abby wanted to attack her face with her fingernails. The woman weighed on every one of her nerves and all her other organs. Most of all, she wanted her gone. Since when did I get so jealous?
River’s lips went from a smile to a thin line. Little crinkles in his forehead appeared from nowhere. He was caving in. “I’m sorry, Abby, but I have to check and make sure no one is in her house. Do you want to come along?”
“Not especially.” No way did she want to hang around the bimbo or go to her house. “Go ahead.” Who was she to stand in the way? He was a big boy. If he didn’t want to go, he could have said no.
The widow nauseated her. She didn’t like women who threw themselves at men like that. “I’m going to stretch my legs.” She got up from the table.
“Please stay. I’ll call the deputy to check her house.”
“I’ll be back.” She walked to the dance floor to get away from River.
Damn he looked good tonight. Good enough to kiss or even nibble on. But the widow seemed to have her lace and silk web sprung and ready to snare some Sheriff beefcake.
Pepper tore up the dance floor, literally. Somehow she’d caught her heel on a loose tile and pulled it up. Abby snickered under her breath while four guys argued on the best way to repair the damage.
A squeaking noise above her head caught her attention. She looked up. An enormous speaker hung from the ceiling, swinging wildly on a broken chain.
Abby’s insides jumped to her throat. Her legs stiffened and froze solid.
Ker plink.
Another chain suspending the speaker snapped and dangled. The giant black box swayed back and forth, dangling from its last wire.
Spilink.
Oh shit.
Chapter 11
A whirlwind of a bus hit Abby from behind. She wasn’t sure what pummeled her, but it sure as hell felt big and heavy. A second impact hit—one that collided like a locomotive. The warm bus grunted on top of her. Her numb body compressed into the sticky floor, a whiff of stale cigarettes and spoiled beer battered her nose membranes. She pushed back against the ton of heat on top of her to no avail. She now knew what a bug felt like after ramming a semi’s windshield going over a hundred miles an hour.
“Abby, are you okay?” River’s voice strained low in her ear.
Abby pulled in a deep breath, but only a wisp of air made it into her lungs. “Can’t breathe.”
People gathered around them. Murmurs filled the silent bar.
“Shit, did you see that?”
“I wonder if they’re hurt?”
Pepper bolted over and squatted down close to Abby’s face. “Hang in there, Abmeister.”
She tried for a nod.
A man with a goatee and a belly the size of a kegger barreled to her side. “Is everyone all right?” His voice grated like gravel in a tin can, as if he’d spent too many years breathing second hand smoke and asbestos-laced insulation. It was Big Huey, the bar owner or was he the manager? Abby startled when he yelled to the crowd. “Hey, you two guys over there. Come help me lift this damn speaker off of him.”
A portion of the weight lifted, and suddenly she could inhale some air. River scrambled away and sat back on his knees, rubbed his palms on his pants, and stood. “I’m okay. Abby, you okay?” He extended his hand to her.
She laid there for a moment accessing the aches and soreness engulfing her body. It was a wonder she hadn’t been paralyzed. “I’ll live.”
River cradled her hand and pulled her up beside him.
“Thanks for tackling me so I wouldn’t get hit,” her tone teased. She let loose a joking smile, embarrassed and uncomfortable. She wiped at her legs but the dive-bar’s stickiness wouldn’t go away. That will teach her to dress up when she went to Your Alibi. Abby walked behind River. His black shirt had a large wet stain going down his back.
“Oh my God. You’re bleeding.”
River tucked his chin in his collarbone to look over his shoulder. “The speaker caught my shoulder blade.”
She glanced at the speaker box lying on the floor weighing at least a couple hundred pounds. If River hadn’t body-slammed her to the sticky bar floor, that huge speaker would have cracked her skull wide open. Her skin heebie-jeebied on the nape of her neck.
“Let me look at it.” Abby lifted his shirt to expose his back. A two-inch gash ran diagonal across his shoulder blade. Deep red blood streamed from his wound, trailing down his back into the waistband of his pants. “You need stitches.”
She forced herself not to freak. It’s my fault.
He pulled the shirt over his head and winced. “Na, it’s just a scratch. Nothing a few butterfly bandages won’t fix.” He turned and Abby was faced with the mesmeric sculpture of his chest. The muscles wove over and under each other like a tapestry of hard, toned power.
She clamped her teeth together hard so her jaw wouldn’t drop open and swallowed hard. She recovered from her fan-girl on the brain after a few moments. “Thanks for saving me, River.”
The redheaded bimbo Charlotte tottered over in her five inch heels, threw her arms around River, and laid her head on his chest. “Oh, River. You could have been killed.”
River politely disengaged Charlotte and her over-clingy arms from his person. “I’m fine. Abby was the one in danger. She might have been severely injured.” River gave Abby a modest smile, then glared at the speaker, and then at Big Huey.
Pepper stepped in front of Charlotte and bumped her with her butt to shove her out of the way. “You saved her life.” Pepper turned from River to face Abby. “Why don’t you take River home and bandage him up. I doubt he could reach that shoulder blade even if he tried.” She gave her an urging look that said I’m-going-to-kick-your-behind-if-you-refuse, her expression more powerful than if she took a board and smacked Abby upside the head with it.
Point taken. “Sure,” she said. “Let me drive you home and I’ll fix you up. I’ve always wanted to drive a police car.”
River lowered his eyebrows and nodded.
With a triumphant smile, Pepper snatched Abby’s arm, pulled her aside, and whispered low so no one could hear. “Rebound sex is great. Call me if you want me to pick you up.”
Suddenly the room began to spin around her. Her head felt light and she swayed. Just as she was about to fall, muscular arms scooped her up. River again to the rescue. “I’m fine. You can put me down.”
“I don’t want you falling. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No way. I refuse to go. I’m fine.” She kicked her feet and wiggled in his grasp.
“Look. I have to make sure you’re not seriously hurt.”
“I think I would know if I was and I’m not, so put me down.” This had to be one of the most embarrassing moments in her life. It seemed like they were adding up.
He carried her up to the bar owner, who apologized a quadrillion times.
“I’m calling in a safety inspection for this week to make sure everything is up
to code. This was an accident that shouldn’t have happened.”
The bar owner lowered his chin to his chest.
Taking her outside, River set her down and jingled his keys to find the right one. She tried to take the keys, but he pulled them away.
“Can I drive?”
“No offense, but I don’t want you driving the squad car.”
Damn. She always wanted to drive a cop car and flash the lights with the siren blaring.
He countered with, “I could really use some help cleaning up this wound if you’re game?”
She nodded, and they eased into the marked police car, and River drove them to his place.
Neither of them spoke much on the way to River’s house. Which was fine with Abby, she had a habit of sticking her foot ankle deep into her mouth when she opened it.
Why would Pepper push her so hard into a rebound with River? She could only guess it was Pepper’s fall-off-the-cliff and get-right-back-up-on-the-ledge way of thinking.
When she remembered how River wiped his T-shirt across his bare stomach and belly button—a perfectly round innie—she licked her lips. Each section of his stomach mirrored the one across from it. Perfect symmetry. Perfect abs. Perfect body.
She thought about how he’d bonded with Hercules. River was a good guy, a caring pet parent, so much more than a six-pack waiting to be caressed. She looked over at him driving through town. He’d been so patient and kind to her. He’d risked his life to save her from the horrible speaker attack.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and savored the memory of the kiss.
She wanted him.
Maybe Pepper was right. Maybe a round of sexcapades would cure her of the Burt the cheater blues.
The I-want-to-do-nasty-things-with-you smile spread across her face. She craved River’s body, but more so, his company.
River lived in a small brick ranch near Pepper’s home. Mature oak trees graced the yard along with flowered bushes, Hostas, and plumes of ferns framed the walkway to his porch.
He opened the big wooden front door and turned on the overhead light. “I just moved here a month ago so I haven’t decorated much,” River said, the apology clear in his voice.
He wasn’t kidding. The living room had a couch and a huge plasma television covering the expanse of an entire wall.
That was it.
No end tables.
No bookshelves.
No pictures.
Nothing personal.
“The first aid kit is in the kitchen.”
She followed his flawless—but bloodstained—tush into the kitchen. “Wow, you sure live sparse.” His meticulous kitchen was bare.
No table to eat on.
Nothing on the counters.
One lone chair sat silently by the small tiled island.
He flashed a smile that suggested he might be a teensy bit embarrassed. “I don’t entertain much.”
No joke. “No way,” she countered, putting on a smile to save him.
“I know. You would think I have endless dinner parties here.” His smile was different this time, more playful. He reached into an upper cabinet and pulled out an olive colored backpack with sheaths on the side, dangerous looking knives tucked in each one as if they were infants swaddled in blankets.
She peered inside the unzipped the pack. He rummaged through several canisters on top that looked like grenades.
He held up a square green box with a red cross on the front. “Here it is.” He handed it over to her. “Are you sure you feel okay?”
“I’m fine. No more dizziness.” She glanced over the empty counters. “Do you have a washcloth or something?”
“Oh, yeah. Somewhere here.” He opened several empty drawers before he found the one containing a cloth.
Abby took the cloth and ran water over it in the sink. With light pressure, she cleansed the gash, trying not to hurt him. She wiped the cloth over his entire back making sure not one trace of dried blood remained. The time she took allowed for admiration of River’s sculptured muscles. Her fingertips searched over three scars that spread from his back to his left bicep. “Where did you get these scars?” Sexy as hell, and dangerous, she’d bet. She traced her finger along the shiny raised skin on the largest of the three.
“It was a long time ago.” His words held a haunted tone, one that said he didn’t want to go into it right now. Abby respected his silence. She had secrets too, and the last thing she wanted right now was to talk about them.
“So, why did you leave California to move here?” She had to think of something to say. Okay now she was dawdling, but so what? His back was exquisite, and she wanted a reason to linger. The Greek God sculptures couldn’t compare to the body in front of her. Her essence heated with need.
“Actually, I haven’t lived there in several years.” He winced and made a Ssss noise when she dabbed too deep at the wound.
“I mean, how’d you end up in Haber Cove? I’m sure you’d get paid a heck of a lot more in a big city.” She stopped dabbing and just stared in awe at River’s physique.
He turned to look over his shoulder at her. “What, and miss all this action? I prefer not to have to deal with gangbangers in the big cities. My friend Ottar, who should be here soon, told me about this position.”
“So you do have company over,” she teased.
“You’re the first.”
She felt honored. That meant Charlotte hadn’t invaded his space. She hid her grin. “Well, I better fix you up before Ottar gets here.” And before I do something I’ll regret like throw myself at him. His skin radiated warmth and his muscles felt so hard, she wanted to strip the rest of him and toss him onto the bed. If he had a bed.
She pulled bandages out of the kit and applied several of them across the gash. “There, all done.” She washed her hands in the sink and dried them. She turned and leaned against the granite counter top.
River walked up closer to her. “Thank you.” His deep voice came out seductive, his words a little more than a breath wafting her hair. Her lips parted and she drew in a deep breath.
He wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her closer. His eyes connected with hers, she could almost feel him probing inside her mind, inside her soul. She wanted to back away and run, but her body had other ideas. An inferno flared in the dormant frozen places she’d forgotten for too long.
River’s smooth lips brushed across hers, feather-light.
His fingers stretched behind her head moving upward interlacing in her hair. Good lord, he had large hands.
Tiny flicks of his tongue darted past her lips overwhelming her mouth with yearning. She opened to invite the kiss deeper. His kiss accepted her tongue and at first it was playful, almost as if they performed a waltz before it went to all out dirty dancing. Deeper and stronger the kiss progressed, and Abby felt frosted parts of her heart thawing to River’s advance.
His hands moved down to her torso, thumbs in front of her ribs and fingers spanning her back, the sensation amazing. They traveled up and down her sides until he moved a hand over to palm her double-A breast.
Regret filled her. She wished she had more upstairs than two glorified mosquito bites for him to grasp. His touch, soft but spirited and skilled, sent a wildfire throughout her core. She melted into a pile of boneless goo. Her body had just been pleasure bombed.
River pulled back. “Abby, you’re trembling. Are you okay?” His deep husky words had the effect of a fire extinguisher blanketing her hot passion with ice-cold foam.
Damn him. Of course she trembled. Trembled with the ecstasy his talented touch ignited. She solidified. If he found out she was cursed, he would shove her aside like damaged rotten fruit. She needed to stop this and get the heck out of here while she still could.
But River felt so good, so right.
Her mind traveled back to when she’d had relations with Burt. It felt much more distant, disappointing, less intimate. Even though River had only gotten to first base, this game would be a shutout if she didn’t call a rain delay and stop the momentum.
She pulled back, hating the thought. “Um, I think I should go.” She forced the words out even though her body protested. She ducked out from under his embrace.
River’s deep blue eyes brightened to an Aurora Borealis of colors. He locked his gaze on to hers, launching her into a micro galaxy of want and need, almost as if she was sucked in by some magnetic tractor beam.
A thick sigh released from his mouth. “Stay.”
“It’s getting late and your friend will be arriving soon.” She turned, straightened her shirt and skirt, and inched toward the door.
His eyes went wild with defeat, his back stiffened and his chin rose when he said, “At least let me drive you home. I don’t want you walking home alone in the dark.” He snatched up his shirt and eyed the bloodstain with contempt before tossing it on the counter. “Let me get another shirt. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared down the hallway.
Abby’s breath caught as she watched his broad shoulders and strong legs walk away, her pulse throbbing through her body.
A knock sounded at the back door and startled her. A tall guy with shoulder length dark hair strode into the kitchen carrying a duffle bag on his back, a stack of books in one hand, and two shotguns slung over his other shoulder. He dropped the heavy bag onto the floor, and slid the books on the kitchen counter, and reared his head up to inspect Abby.
“Oi, mate. O’m Ottar, and who might you be?” His presence shrieked predator, her leg muscles tightened, her mind screamed run away, fast.