by Gaelen Foley
“Beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely.
She was dizzy with desire. She hadn’t realized how badly she had wanted him, but the man was so delicious that she wanted to devour him. She nibbled his lower lip, intensely focused on his fingers gliding slowly up her thigh, but when they slipped beneath the hem of her dress, she flinched with want, her pulse thundering. She licked her lips in anticipation without the slightest intention of reining him in.
Sensing she was game, he grew bolder. Things exploded quickly from the moment he tugged the lace edge of her panties down and slipped his fingers in between her legs. Bea shuddered on her knees astride his lap, braced with both hands planted on his shoulders. But as he began to pleasure her, she lifted the front of his t-shirt up and petted his chiseled stomach…and then ventured lower.
She reached down and fondled his raging hardness through his jeans. Harry whispered a needy curse. The next thing she knew, he was lifting his shirt off over his head while she fumbled eagerly with the button of his Levi’s.
“I don’t think, we should, you know, all the way—” she said, panting.
“Whatever you want,” he said, his bare chest heaving under her caress.
It was difficult to keep to that, but after things had gone sideways with their Apex date, she didn’t want to risk making another false move. Then all thought dissolved as Harry pulled her to him for another frantic kiss.
Soon she shed her dress, impatient to be rid of it, and tossed it aside. She then took off her bra while Harry stared, his eyes flaming with passion in the darkness. The hay beneath their blankets rustled as she lay back. He leaned down atop her, kissing her neck, his mouth and hands warming her body in the cool night air. Bea arched beneath his silken stroking, but he was as good as his word.
Before long, she slid down into the cool cloth of the sleeping bag, and Harry joined her. The feel of his muscled warmth all against her body, the warm, rhythmic pull of his mouth on her nipples, each in turn, filled her with burgeoning delight. His sheer male beauty filled her senses, the night-black silk of his hair, the broad smooth surface of his back, but somehow they resisted, only pleasuring each other.
The space between them was filled with the sound of their panting and low, breathless murmurs of desire. But out in the glittery darkness blanketing the forest and the hills, the crickets sang on with their endless ode to summer.
# # #
A rooster’s crowing woke Harry the next morning, amusing as much as it annoyed him. Ah, the country life. Squinting in the soft gold sunlight, he lifted his head. His arms were still wrapped around Bea. They were still tucked down cozily in her big blue sleeping bag together.
He felt her stirring. “Damned rooster,” she mumbled.
He offered her a sleepy smile. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” she rasped, her hair rumpled in the most adorable fashion. But the pleasure of last night still glowed in her honey-brown eyes.
The memory of their relatively innocent encounter made Harry well up with tenderness inside. Something about this girl just turned him inside out. “Looks like tomorrow’s here,” he whispered.
“The big day,” she answered with a gulp.
“We’d better get moving so we don’t make Zander late. You ready?”
She kissed him on the nose, then sat up with a resolute smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Later that morning, Bea snapped her seatbelt closed then clutched Harry’s forearm as the helicopter’s engine revved and its blade began to thwap-thwap-thwap. With his headset in place, Harry turned to her and smiled, sharing the thrill as he felt the belly-flopping swoop of Zander’s Eagle 400 lifting off the ground.
“Looks like we’ll have clear skies,” said the lean, longish-haired pilot as the chopper ascended into the blue summer sky.
The mountains beneath them shrank into rolling hills as they hovered and drifted away from Harmony Falls. The rich farmland, green valleys, and winding roads looked like the miniature train villages that he’d loved as a kid.
“I can’t believe I’ve never ridden this thing before,” Bea said to her friend through her headset over the vibrating engine.
Zander gave her the thumbs up from his seat in the cockpit, keeping his eyes on the airspace around them.
For his part, Harry was ready to return to civilization. Last night with Bea had been delicious, but the tornado had kind of taken some of the charm out of his rural getaway. The trip would only take thirty minutes, and he could hardly wait to get back to his normal world—whatever that might look like now, with this beautiful woman by his side.
Maybe by tonight, they’d have something to celebrate and could squeeze in a little fun in his territory this time. Go to a ballgame, perhaps, he daydreamed.
In all reality, though, he probably had a mountain of work waiting for him on his desk, not to mention Curt was more than a little annoyed with him. Harry hadn’t exactly done his best work on the farm assignment, he admitted. Things had gotten complicated in ways that Curt wouldn’t care to hear.
Circumstances had prevented him from hitting a home run on the job, of course, but Curt had made no effort to hide his disappointment in him when they’d spoken on the phone this morning.
As if the tornado was his fault.
Harry had assured his boss there was a plan in place; he just hadn’t told him what it was yet. He’d only told him he was bringing Ms. Palmer in to meet him in person.
That way, when he introduced the cowboy to the gorgeous and spirited Beatrice Palmer this afternoon, her presence would pack a greater punch than if Harry had simply laid out their proposal over the phone.
Meanwhile, they sped over an increasingly built-up landscape. Suburbs, shopping centers, giant box stores, movie theaters. Harry leaned over Bea to gaze out her window with her, enjoying the experience together. Cloud shadows floated across the tiny roads and various ribbons of highways below.
Before long, the tops of the city’s towering skyscrapers came into view ahead, rising up over the horizon in the distance. They sparkled in the sunlight, especially the fanciful mirrored towers of PPG Place. Soon, directly below them, clusters of row houses and blocks of apartment buildings unfolded.
It looked like a typical busy day in the city of Pittsburgh. Busy yellow bridges spanned the glittering three rivers, and where they met, the tall, spouting fountain danced at the Point.
They could see the little red incline cars traveling up and down their steep mountainside and down to the shops at Station Square. One of the old-timey paddleboats chugged along with its load of tourists on the top deck, while a coal barge went the other way.
“Oh, look. They must be filming another movie.” Bea pointed to one of the bridges, which had been closed off to traffic. Police lights flashed on both ends, keeping curious onlookers back from the filming in progress.
Harry looked on with interest. “Probably another superhero sequel.”
She laughed knowingly. Pittsburgh had built up quite a busy little showbiz industry; the city often stood in for more expensive places to film. Thanks to the magic of CGI, it could masquerade as any urban landscape from New York to Gotham City. Of course, it aggravated locals in the still blue-collar-at-heart town when the movie stars and flashy Hollywood production companies descended and started holding up traffic. But they sure liked the bragging rights.
Even Harry’s mom had once managed to snare a spot as an extra in a street scene in some A-lister’s thriller that had been filmed downtown.
In any case, their helicopter ride was drawing to a close. Zander swooped left, then right, then he glanced over his shoulder to say that they would be approaching the landing pad shortly.
Bea gripped Harry’s arm. This time, he wrapped his free hand around hers and squeezed back, giving her a reassuring smile.
Moments later, the helicopter was lowered gently on top of the Trent Building. Their trusty pilot must’ve been there plenty of times before, because he had no difficulty landing t
he Eagle 400 safely on its perch. They slipped off their headsets and unfastened their seatbelts; it was time to go.
Tremendous wind from the spinning blades flapped Bea’s long, flowy skirt as she and Harry climbed out onto the rooftop. He reached back in to retrieve her garment bag containing the tailored skirt suit and business heels she’d borrowed from one of her girlfriends for the meeting.
His own luggage barely seemed worth saving—his phone had been dented, his shoes had been flung out into God only knew what parts of Pennsylvania, and his clothes inside the duffel bag were still kind of wet and dirty. But it and his garment bag had been returned to him, at least, after the crane operator had pried poor Ruby’s twisted metal carcass out of the old oak and then sent her off to car heaven.
He sighed every time he thought of his late, great Porsche. Well, when his insurance guy got around to processing his claim, he’d just have to make another trip to the dealer in order to replace poor Ruby.
They waved goodbye to Zander then hustled into the office building, and rode the elevator all the way down to the garage. Harry beamed when he finally spotted his usual vehicle, a pearl-gray Range Rover Sport, parked in its familiar corner spot.
Thank you, Dana, he thought, owing Curt’s secretary for getting the vehicle to him so quickly. He hit his key fob to unlock the elegant beast of an SUV, then nudged the convenient tailgate button hidden under the rear bumper with his toe, which activated the back door to lift. He swung their luggage into the spotless back of the truck, then marched around to the side and opened the passenger door for Bea.
“Good service here,” she teased, settling into the supple leather seat.
Unable to wipe the besotted smile off his face, Harry gazed at her long, shiny hair, her sexy off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, and his heart raced a little.
For the first time, he was seeing her enmeshed in his life, and there was no denying how perfectly she fit or how happy having her there made him feel.
Her amber-specked eyes flashed at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shut the door once she’d yanked the hem of her long, gypsy-like skirt in.
The city was stifling hot today, so he cranked the AC at once and got the seats cooling. He started the engine, pleased as always with the vroom! of the double exhaust pipes roaring to life. Then he flicked on the surround-sound stereo system and invited her to put on what she liked.
On the exit ramp out of the garage, he made sure Bea was still okay with making a quick stop at his mom’s place. Harry had called his mother from the farmhouse after the tornado to let her know he was okay.
Nevertheless, after she’d seen some of the storm chasers’ footage on the news, Noreen Riley had insisted she lay eyes on her son in the flesh the second he returned to the city. She needed to confirm for herself that he’d made it through the destruction unscathed. Unless Bea objected, he saw no reason to delay.
There was, perhaps, some small part of him that wanted to know if his mom would like her. He was pretty sure they’d hit it off. They were both hardworking, down-to-earth, unpretentious women. Besides, the two of them had the whole day to kill before their six o’clock meeting with Curt. Harry had deliberately scheduled their meeting for the tail end of the workday, after most of the employees had already gone home, because he knew he was going to be mobbed with a hundred other questions if he showed up during normal work hours. He did not want any distractions until this matter with Bea was squared away. More importantly, the closer they got to happy hour, the better the cowboy’s mood was likely to be.
He’d told them he’d be back in the office on normal hours tomorrow; today he’d be schmoozing a client. “Are you sure you don’t mind having lunch at my mother’s place?” he asked the client in question.
“You’re the one with the five-star palate, Mr. Riley,” Bea answered, flashing a grin.
Harry gave her a fake snarl as he pulled into Stanwix Street traffic.
She chuckled. “I’m happy with whatever your mother has in the fridge. Did you ask if she wants us to pick up anything on the way? I’d hate to put her to any trouble.”
“No, cooking for me makes her happy for some strange reason. I asked. She said she didn’t need anything from the store,” Harry added as they sat at a red light. “We’ll need to get back to my place at some point so we both can change and get ready, but I was thinking, if you want to hang around the city this afternoon, check out a museum or something…”
“You don’t have to entertain me, Harry. I grew up here, remember? But I’ll tell you what, it’s amazing how different things look since I was here last.” She stared out the window at the new riverfront complex, the recently refurbished marina, and the strip of busy restaurants that now lined downtown Pittsburgh’s streets.
Then the light changed, and they cruised up to the suburbs around North Park. During the drive to the active seniors retirement community where his mom was still getting used to her new apartment, Harry checked in with Dana by phone once more and confirmed the meeting with Curt.
“He’ll be waiting for you and Ms. Palmer here at the office,” Dana told him. “Of course, I can’t promise he’ll be absolutely sober by then,” she warned Harry in a lower tone. “Maybe I’ll stick around in case you need anything?”
“You’re the best, Dana,” Harry said, once again grateful for her reliable help, then ended the call.
“This place is really nice,” Bea remarked as they drove through the open gates and onto the sculpted grounds of the posh retirement community. “I wonder if Pap and Gram would ever want to live in this kind of setting. Somehow I doubt it.”
“I thought the same thing when my mom moved here,” Harry said. “The first time she saw this place, she said, ‘No way, not my speed.’ She thought she could never fit in here.”
“Oh yeah?”
He nodded. “She fought me for years about getting out of the old neighborhood, but it was going downhill. She wanted her corner market and her bus fumes. But when the SWAT team made a drug bust across the street from our old house, I put my foot down.”
“Ah, you worked your salesman magic on her?” Bea asked as he pulled the Rover into a parking space, ignoring the vehicle’s ability to park itself.
“Not even a little bit,” he said with a grin. “Believe me, all my charm has no effect on my mom whatsoever. She’s had me pegged since I was two.”
Bea laughed. “I like this woman already.”
He led her up the stairs to his mother’s second-story condo.
As soon as he knocked, Noreen Riley answered the door and gasped. “Get in here!” she cried, her coal-black eyes narrowing as she hugged him tight.
“Good to see you, too, Mom.” Harry let out a squeezed breath.
“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously, holding him at arm’s length and looking him over, though she only came up to his chest.
“I’m fine, Mom. Ahem. Er, this is Beatrice Palmer.”
“Ohh! Come in, honey,” she said, finally releasing Harry and taking Bea by the fingertips, examining her.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Riley,” she said.
“Please, call me Noreen. Well, don’t just stand there, Harry. Bring her in!” she exclaimed, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “You two come sit down…”
Harry and Bea exchanged discreet smiles as Noreen bustled ahead of them, unleashing a tirade against all tornadoes and weather events everywhere.
Harry told her again and again that he was fine.
Soon, over a comforting spread of egg salad, buttery croissants, and fresh tomatoes drizzled in olive oil with strips of basil, Harry and Bea listened attentively as his mom recounted what she’d been doing in the short few days since the previous Sunday morning, when she’d had him replacing her damned garbage disposal, changing light bulbs on the ceiling fan, and moving furniture around.
To him, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Life before Bea.
“This guy. He can fix anything, did he tell you that?
Plumbing, electricity, you name it,” his mother bragged to Bea, then turned to him. “You’ll be happy to know I haven’t clogged the sink again yet.”
“Good. You break another garbage disposal, you’re on your own, lady,” he warned her playfully.
“What can I say? We never had one at the old place. I’m just not used to it,” she huffed in mock indignation, then looked at Bea. “Listen to this. Mr. Bigshot. Does he boss you around, too?”
“He tries,” Bea said with a wink.
“Ha!” Noreen burst out. “I like this one, Harry. She’s spunky, eh?”
“Definitely, Mom,” he said drily, looking at Bea.
She, in turn, shook her head with a smile from ear to ear, then looked askance at him. “You fix plumbing?”
He just shrugged, though he did kind of wonder how many former Porsche owners out there could actually change out a toilet. But you learned a lot becoming the man of the house at age nine.
Noreen squeezed Harry’s shoulder as she returned from the nearby counter with the coffeepot. “I’m just glad you’re back safe. I gotta tell you, everyone on my floor has been dying to hear what happened with the twister.” She topped off all their coffees. “I told them you were in the mountains when that tornado hit. It was an F2, Harry, an F2! They said so on the news.”
“Ah, you know me. Pretty indestructible.”
“So you say,” his mom shot back.
“It was really scary,” Bea added. “But your son was, like, superhero brave the whole time. You’d have been so proud if you could’ve seen him.”
“Oh, believe me, honey, I always have been proud of this kid. Such a hard worker.” She set out the cream and sugar. “Did he tell you he started his first business when he was twelve?”
“No, he did not.” Bea turned to him.
“Oh, yeah. He’s always been one of those entrepreneur types. Even when he was a kid, he was always coming up with new ventures. Walking dogs, delivering papers, washing cars, mowing lawns. Oh, but here’s the best one—”