by Siera London
“There are chores to be done if you plan to hang with me.”
Oh, Nathan planned to lay, to play, and to stay as long as she allowed him. He let out a breath when she smiled up at him. The offer she made was genuine, not forced.
“I’ll start by taking out the trash.” No woman denied a man his inalienable right to take out the garbage.
“I usually drop off the bag on my way to work.”
“Not anymore.” He moved to scoop her off his lap. His thighs were warm from her bottom and the air surrounding him scented of raw honey and woman. His woman.
“The dumpster is out by the road. There are replacement bags under the sink.”
Nathan gathered the white plastic liner from its basket, cinching the yellow pull cords. Opening the cabinet beneath the sink, he froze.
“What the?” A red, cylindrical army stood guard beneath the sink.
“Please close that door,” came a feminine snap from over his shoulder.
Nathan shot to his feet, and rounded on Symphony.
“Why do you have an arsenal of fire extinguishers?” The sharp glare told him the answer he received would be something other than straight.
***
The sun seemed to tear through the adjacent windows, shining a condemning light on her little red soldiers. How had the morning catapulted from the promise of passion to the egregious need for exposition? A stock pile of fire extinguishers needed an explanation, Symphony knew. Well, too bad. Nathan would not get one from her.
He stood there with one hand still on the traitorous door that revealed her secret.
“Blue? Are you going to tell me why you have a Home Depot supply of red tanks under your sink?”
At Symphony’s continued silence, the muscle along Nathan’s jaw beat a steady tick. With her arms crossed, feet firmly rooted in silent challenge, she drummed her fingers in time to his body’s rhythm. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her mentioning she had a sudden urge to kiss that tick. Soothe his tension with the warm, moist heat of her mouth until he groaned in pleasure.
A graveled throat clearing echoed through the RV, pulling her back from fantasy land. How should she respond? Defense would be her best offense.
“Why are you snooping through my cabinets like a hobo searching for cans?”
Nathan’s brows slammed together, his male sensibilities affronted by her accusation.
Undeterred by his scowl, Symphony pressed on.
“You’re seriously going to try to deflect the question?”
Symphony threw up her hands. “Hey, I just met you.”
“We met yesterday,” he growled, “and you brought me home last night. Where I’m from, that makes me special.”
“Well, Mr. Special, take out the trash and stop interrogating me,” she yelled. Symphony’s breath sawed in and out. Her lungs burned. One day with Nathan and she was yelling. Why had she brought him here? It was a mistake to get involved with this man.
Symphony looked up. Nathan’s gray eyes narrowed, followed by a thinning of his lips. He must have recognized the change in her because he closed the cabinet, and stalked across the space to stand toe to toe with her.
“Look, Nathan.” Those were the only words Symphony said before his mouth was on hers—tasting, demanding, and claiming. She’d fantasized about his lips while he slept. The fantasy failed in comparison to the reality of getting lost in his heat, being consumed by his touch.
When he broke the kiss, she swallowed hard. His panting breaths mirrored her own.
“You’re irritatingly cute,” he gave her a lopsided grin.
She recognized the kiss for what it was—a truce. A woeful tale deferred. Unwilling to melt like the jumbo lump of honey butter she was, Symphony shrugged, “Don’t think you can disarm me with your fiery kisses.” He so could.
Nathan leaned in close. She inhaled his untamed cowboy scent. “You didn’t deny I was special,” he tilted his head and winked.
“I didn’t, did I?” It seemed he already knew too much. That didn’t bode well for her.
***
Girlfriends and suspicion were a bad combination. Nathan would swallow his own boot before he put Symphony’s choices under a microscope. He tossed the trash bag in a green dumpster near the front entrance to the trailer park. Mid-morning brought a literal big tent circus act stumbling out of the rundown trailers and recreational vehicles.
He shortened his stride when he reached the row housing Symphony’s RV. At the first trailer, three women, each putting a hurt on the seams of their cut-off shorts and tank tops gyrated to Dr. Dre’s “California Love” blasting through one of those mini speakers attached to a cell phone. The women quieted when he passed, then peals of laughter sounded at his back. Next door was even more interesting.
A couple of tatted-up bikers arm-wrestled at a card table that had seen better days. Enough beer cans and empty long neck bottles to finance a small country littered the artificial turf beneath their feet.
A third lot housed a silver bullet camper with more rust than siding. The lot was clean and a garden of wildflowers bloomed around the base, hiding the wheels.
“Mr. Special, is it?”
Nathan stopped.
Underneath a saggy awning attached to the rusty trailer, a man with more rust on him than the trailer sat in a green plastic chair. The kind one found on the seasonal aisle at a CVS or a Walgreen’s. Cheap and reliable. His gray hair could use a cut, and the beard would get him a part-time Santa gig come Christmas time.
“You eavesdropping old timer?”
“There’s nothing easy about this life, Mr. Special. I learned that before I was your age.”
Nathan offered Gray Beard a smirk. If he overheard his and Symphony’s conversation, then he’d heard Nathan’s question from the five feet that separated them.
“That girl is holding on to her life by one knot. She don’t need a slick cowboy buttering her up for a big fall. You hear me?”
Nathan stiffened. He didn’t like being accused of preying on Symphony. Gray Beard rose from his green throne. The seated position hid his solid build. Nathan stood his ground as he approached.
“Nathan Zachary,” he said, extending his hand.
Coming to his feet, the old timer gripped his hand. The man’s appearance belied his strength.
“And I have no plans to hurt Symphony.”
“Yea, well, you got any plans to make her happy, Special Nathan?”
Did Nathan have any plans beyond getting her into bed? He didn’t have to think long. “Yes, I do.”
***
The door to Symphony’s trailer burst open. Nathan must have returned from his trek to the trash.
“Symphony, I smell breakfast, girlfriend!”
Bethany’s voice bounced off the sound barrier before returning to Earth to rock her home on its four wheels. Penelope, the younger and more reserved of the two sisters, was never far behind her sibling.
“Give me a minute,” she called out, butt up on the mattress. “I’m stripping the sheets off the bed.” Which she usually finished in thirty seconds flat, but Max’s ninety-pound canine frame was parked in the center. “Where’s our Nathan, Cujo?”
Max’s ears rotated like he was on an auditory search mission for her gone- too-long house guest. Dissatisfied with his results, Max leaped down to the floor, padding out the door on silent paws.
Pulling the last tab off the fitted sheet, Symphony bundled the sheets in her arms, grabbing the pillows last.
A ferocious growl filled the air. Symphony froze, unsure what was happening. Then a bloodcurdling scream filled the air like a tornado barreling through a tunnel. The sound deafening, a physical blow to her eardrums.
Symphony dropped her laundry. She heard Nathan’s voice yelling her name. At the escalation in the animalistic growl, Symphony sprang into action. Her sandals slapped a loud “thwack” on the vinyl.
The combination of screaming, yelling, and growls overwhelmed her, jarring her already fr
azzled nerves.
Symphony’s blood ran cold at the scene in her crowded common area. Huddled against Symphony’s buffet table, a wide-eyed Bethany screamed while a wild-eyed Penelope faced off with one pissed-off canine.
“Cujo!” When that didn’t work, he called his name. “Max, stop.”
Concern for her friends had Symphony scrambling forward. The sisters had been the one constant in her life these past few months. When she left the California coast, after learning of her father’s search for her, she’d invited them to add Key West to their bucket list. The sisters arrived two weeks after she had, saying they missed her. To be honest, Symphony was glad for the company. She couldn’t let her new canine take a bite out of her support system… literally. Where the heck was Nathan? Surely, he could bring his killer dog to heel. Max was a different dog than the one who’d kept her company while Nathan slept.
“Call off this rabid dog,” Bethany screeched from the protective shield of her younger sister’s body. “You are crazy, Symphony.”
“This is not the time for name calling. I’m trying here,” she warned.
Her front door burst open for the second time. Symphony swung her head in the direction of the light streaming into the room. Nathan stood in the doorway. Gray eyes surveyed the scene. He looked her over first, scanning her from head to toe. Then, he looked at the human yin and yang sign that was Bethany and Penelope.
“Stand down,” Nathan barked out the order. Instantly, the ferocious bark halted. Max dropped down to his rear haunches.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
Bethany, no longer cowering behind her sister, “That’s what I want to know.”
Bethany turned her glaze on Symphony. Oh, what a tangled web she weaved, Symphony thought.
“What’s he doing here, Symphony?”
A hush fell over the room like she was a game show contestant and this was the final round.
Bethany tapped the toe of her red boot on the linoleum flooring to a beat only she heard.
It was a simple question with a very complex answer. Symphony recalled the run-in with Nathan at Hobo Alley the night before, the almost kiss behind the building, the feel of his body lying next to hers this morning. All of it had led to him being here, with her. Where should she start?
***
The coolness of the RV’s interior did little to dissipate the heat of rising tempers. Nathan didn’t care for Bethany’s tone. She addressed Symphony like she was a wayward kid needing to explain her actions.
“You remember Nathan.” Symphony moved closer to where he stood by the side entry door. A position he admitted he could get used to.
“Yeah, he’s pretty memorable,” Bethany said, cutting her eyes over to him with a raised brow. “Doesn’t explain him and his psycho dog being here.”
“And you don’t need an explanation,” Nathan cut in.
“Nathan’s right,” Symphony glowered.
“Exactly, she’s an adult.”
“And I don’t need you speaking for me, dog whisperer.”
Penelope remained quiet, but her eyes were steady on the room’s occupants, especially Max. As the pet owner, the adrenaline aftermath following Max’s meltdown was clearly his responsibility.
How had he become the bad guy in this exchange?
“I’m just trying to help.”
“Well, don’t,” Blue snapped. Just stand there and look pretty.”
“Pretty?”
“Sexy…Look sexy while I handle my business,”
She gave a half smile and he gave a full bow. Yeah, he liked how Little Blue handled herself.
“Bethany, Penelope,” Symphony started, “Nathan and I ate breakfast. I have to get him back to his car before I get ready for work.”
He hadn’t seen her eat anything. “Truck, Blue. I’m a Texan through and through.”
Bethany huffed like a two-year-old while Penelope’s expression bordered on sinister. The scowl that covered her face belonged in a horror movie.
“What am I supposed to eat?”
Nathan could’ve stumbled backwards as the petulant tone coming from the pudgy woman, but his respect for Symphony kept him in place. What kind of friendship existed between these women? Little Blue had drawn the short straw in the deal.
“Seriously, Symphony, what’s there to eat? Work is at three o’clock.” Bethany glanced at the smart watch on her wrist. “That’s six hours away.”
Done with the conversation, Penelope lumbered to the compact fridge, grabbed the finger hold, and pulled the door wide. Nathan followed the action. Were these two moochers for real?
“Where’s the food?” Penelope inquired in a flat tone.
What was her problem? Initially, he thought her quiet, now he wasn’t sure what her issue was, but he didn’t like her vibe. In fact, he didn’t care for either of these two women. Gray Beard living next door was a heap better at watching out for Symphony than these freeloaders.
Bethany crossed the room to stand beside her sister, “You fed him everything, didn’t you?”
The accusation in her words coupled with her lethal stare had Nathan crossing the room. Peering over the Sisters Grimm, he spied the near empty shelves. A jar of relish, a bowl of what looked like tomato paste, a half-empty bottle of water.
“All right, everybody back away from my appliances,” came Blue’s saucy voice, but Nathan heard the slight tremor.
He whirled around, glaring at her, remembering she told him she didn’t eat till lunchtime. She’d given him her last.
“You didn’t eat because of me,” he growled.
“No,” came her instant reply.
“Yes,” Bethany said in a singsong voice behind him.
“No… that’s not it.” The denial ran false, and Symphony didn’t meet his eyes.
“Let’s go,” he said, moving toward her.
“Where?”
“Shopping,” Nathan replied just as abrupt.
Symphony just stood there, not moving.
“Since you’re paying, Nathan,” Bethany sauntered closer, “get two packs of blond Oreos. I have a big mouth, so I need extra stuffing.”
“Sounds like you need a chin strap to help you keep your mouth closed,” Symphony snapped.
Okay, Nathan wasn’t touching that one with a twenty-foot pole.
“Blue, where’s your car?” A woman, any woman, but especially his woman feeding him, while she went without was unacceptable.
“Why are you calling her Blue?” Bethany interjected.
Both he and Symphony ignored her. Why hadn’t she told him she needed help? Did she think he would refuse her anything?
“You’re standing in it,” Symphony replied to his question.
“No car. No food. Do you have any mon—”
“Enough. Time for everybody to vacate the premises.”
Symphony wasn’t yelling, but Nathan got the distinct feeling he’d pushed the wrong button. She looked at him now, but if eyes could shoot daggers he’d be ducking and dodging.
“Save your gas,” Bethany hummed on a false note of joviality. “I have a car,” she smiled a little too bright. “I can drive you anywhere you want to go, Nathan.”
Nathan felt a delicate hand land on his abdomen. The hairs on the back of his neck stiffened. He looked down to see Blue’s fingers spread possessively over his skin. He relaxed. The muscles beneath rippled at her touch.
“Nathan stays with me. I can take him everywhere he needs to go.”
Bethany and his Little Blue regarded one another. What the heck was happening? Some unspoken tug of war was taking place. Either way, Nathan’s chest swelled with pride. Symphony was claiming him.
Bethany backed down when her sister’s rounded hand gripped her shoulder. “We’ll see you at the bar, Symphony. Make a double plate for us tonight.”
The thin aluminum door closed with a whack, sealing him in with Symphony.
“I can take care of myself, Nathan.”
Though
she addressed the comment to him, Nathan got the distinct feeling the message was self-directed. What kind of monsters had Blue survived? She’d cooked her last meal this morning and watched him eat every morsel with a smile on her face. He was impressed and pissed off at the same time. Whatever obstacles she faced, he wanted to help.
“Understood. I’m just trying—”
She blew out a sigh, “Spit it out. Your brain seems to be missing a sleep-mode key.”
“I thought, maybe—maybe we can take care of each other.”
She tilted her head up toward the ceiling, as if contemplating his proposal.
“Sounds… like a… great idea.” She gave a tentative smile like what he offered could be snatched away at any moment.
“Thought you might like it,” he grinned.
The room fell silent with her in her corner and him in his.
“Come here, Blue.”
“No, I’ve got to give you a ride before work.”
Nathan groaned at the direction of his thoughts. Crossing the room, he picked Symphony up off her feet. With his hands at her waist, he lifted her up until they were eye to eye.
“Sure thing, I’ll enjoy a ride with you before work.”
Then he kissed her.
Chapter Five
Symphony concentrated on the road ahead. Her goal, correction goals—were to get Nathan to his vehicle, and then get to work an hour early. A jumpstart on the brunch drinkers would help her bottom line. Warm air blew across her skin, leaving a moist kiss of humidity in its wake. It was easy to fall in love with island life. She hit a pothole in the road and Nathan’s arm around her waist tightened. Hello, Saturday morning. Using the side view mirror, she saw Nathan’s scowl from when he’d seen their mode of transportation remained firmly in place.
“Don’t be a vehicle snob,” her voice boomed over the car noise surrounding them. “I know how to keep you in your seat.” She leaned forwarded and he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. She could get used to this.
His response was little more than a grunt.