Be All

by Marie Wathen

  Within moments he is calming a stressed Anna after confirming to her that it was Breesan in the wrecked storm chaser vehicle that she heard about over the radio scanner. Not fully accept his word that Breesan is completely uninjured, she demands to speak with her. Annoyingly narrowing my eyes, I am in disbelief that he is under complete control of his girlfriend. Chuckling, I think about the way I feel right now looking at the gorgeous smile on Breesan's face. There is nothing like knowing I am the one that put it there. I guess I'm disgusting too, but right now I don’t care, I just want her with me.

  Handling Anna and her dramatic demands with ease, Breesan confirms that she will be with me until after the storm settles down and promises we will head over afterward.

  “Mac, we need to talk. Tonight! Understood?” Pinning me with a serious glare, Tristan stresses his meaning by dragging out his words. I know he wants some explanations, but I can’t tell him everything. I don’t even know how to explain it.

  “Yeah Trist, I’ll get her to your place safe and then we can talk.”

  Fully satisfied that Anna’s calm and Breesan is not going to run off, half-cocked Tristan heads out to check on Granddad and Gran. Looking at Breesan, I know I have one night and I plan to make it the best night of my life.

  Chapter 15

  Marcus

  After checking with the onsite emergency operations center worker, we get confirmation that the eye of the thunderstorm is rapidly approaching Willow. Breesan’s excitement to get back on the highway has me a little nervous. I want to do nothing more than pull her deeper into the center of this temporary shelter and protect her from this storm, but there's no chance in hell she's going to allow that to happen. I'll just have to settle for the fact that she will be with me and I'll do every damn thing I can to keep her safe.

  As of now, the damage to property and injuries are minimal, but with a couple of more hours left to ride out the storm, we realize that in all probability it will get worse before it gets better. Not wasting any time, Breesan grabs supplies and inquires which vehicle is mine and I lead her out to my old truck.

  Gray eyes scorch and her face glows as I reach for the door handle. “This big beast is yours?” she says slowly in amazement. Laughing at her choice of words, I see her cheeks redden with embarrassment.

  Opening the door, I extend my hand assisting her inside, “Get in my truck girl,” I order seductively. Hesitating, she looks at me puzzled, like I’d make some kind of redneck joke.

  Smiling to herself, she shakes her head, sidesteps me then hops into the passenger side, and drops her backpack in the backseat. Quickly, I jog around and jump behind the wheel.

  Booming from my speakers, Florida/Georgia Line’s “Cruise” causes her to whip around and look at me. Glancing over, she smiles at me and shakes her head. I’ve shocked the girl with my secret love of country music. Nervous about her judging my music preference, I use the control buttons on the steering wheel and turn it to a local pop station, just catching the end of a Pitbull song.

  “Something wrong with that other song?” Turning her body, she faces me with her knees drawn under her and I glance up to see her expectant smile.

  “No nothing’s wrong. I like that song a lot. Do you like that song?” I ask nervously.

  “Yeah, I love all country music. I am from Alabama after all. I just would have never pegged you to like it.” Arching an eyebrow, her grin grows wider.

  “I like all types of music.” I shrug shyly. “I gravitate back to country. It’s one of my secrets so let’s not tell Trist. He always gives me hell about it. Just because I grew up in England does not mean I’m not a ‘Bama boy at heart.” Stealing a glance, I judge her reaction. Believing that I see a yearning in her eyes for a split second I beam smugly, but then realize that cannot be right; she doesn’t feel that way for me. My joy suddenly shifts to awkwardness and I drum my fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

  She averts her attention toward the road ahead giggling softly, “It’s cool, I know he can be harsh sometimes and I get why you would keep it from him. But if you want me to keep your secret you’ll need to turn that song back on.” She laughs loudly, beaming at me with a beautiful shade of pink staining her cheeks.

  I love that sound and that blush. Fuck. I have never thought such shit about a woman before, not even Elise. Abruptly, she stops laughing as her body stiffens then she shakes her head, turning away from me. She stares out the passenger window quietly. Wondering what made her mood shift so quickly, I want to ask but don’t want to make her uncomfortable, so I don’t press. Could she have noticed the unruly, love-struck look that I felt displayed on my face as I watched her? Shit, I’ve got to be more careful.

  Once back on the highway, we fall in to an agreeable silence while monitoring the police and medical radios. Quickly the inside of my truck begins to feel confined and suffocating, it’s more than I can tolerate and it’s all because of the beautiful woman sitting next to me. Her scent and proximity affect me, driving me crazy.

  All I can think about is learning everything I can about her. No, that’s not entirely true. I want to kiss her, hard. I want to pull this truck over and begin assaulting her lips with my mouth and I won’t stop until her lips are swollen and she has my mark on her neck. Distracted by the thoughts of her, I just now realize how far away from the west side of the island I have taken us, but she appears to be preoccupied as well.

  “So…" I break the silence. Maybe if I get her to talk a little, I can distract myself from my unattainable desires.

  "Yeah?" she replies softly, sounding somewhere far off.

  "You're really quiet." I hope I can coax her into talking. I pray I don’t screw up and piss her off or sound stupid.

  Holy hell, I sound like a dumb ass.

  "Oh, sorry, I just get in this zone when the weather gets bad. I'm a total weather geek." Crinkling her nose up, her face reveals that she is afraid I’m judging her. Chuckling, I think the storm is the last thing on her mind because she hasn’t mentioned, or perhaps even noticed that we’re on the wrong side of the island and away from the expected impact location.

  "No, I wouldn’t say that. What you were doing out there tonight does not qualify you as geek. A fool maybe, but definitely not a geek," I say playfully, quirking an eyebrow up.

  "Ha ha, I’m really glad I could be your entertainment this afternoon. If you're so put off by me why on earth did you volunteer to babysit?" Striking a nerve, her tone reflects mild annoyance.

  "I'm having a great time babysitting you" Winking, I see the slight pink coloring crawl up her beautiful neck. Turning away from my obvious appreciation, she looks out the window again.

  She sighs heavily before affectionately saying, “Really? Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”

  Is she jealous? Who would she be jealous of, she hasn’t see me with…Oh no, Elise.

  “My girlfriend, huh? Well, she isn’t my girlfriend,” I calmly state. Intriguing her with my answer, she faces me again, chewing nervously on her thumbnail.

  “Oh, that’s right, ha! You don’t do girlfriends. I forgot that important information you gave me the first night we met.” Rolling her eyes dramatically, she takes a deep breath and drops her cheerless eyes to her lap.

  “Right, no girlfriends,” I reiterated, not really misleading her since I don’t play the whole relationship game anymore.

  “So you just hook up? No real attachments. No commitments.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “Do the women you hook up with accept this about you?” she continues, intrigued by the subject of my sex life.

  I indulge her, hoping I can gather information about her as well. “I’m honest with every woman from the beginning. They can choose to be with me or not. You would be surprised at the amount of women who prefer no strings attached.” she believes my lie. I’m not prepared to tell her that I don’t have casual sex with a woman, that’s more Morgan’s style. Hopefully she already figured him out.

  “What about you? I’m gue
ssing you are an all the accessories kind of girl aren’t you? You know hearts, flowers, and snuggling. You want him picking you up, taking you out to dinner, and the simple sweet kisses on the front porch. Am I right?” Knowing if she were mine, I would give her these things and so much more.

  “Wow, do I come off as some kind of prude to you? Fuck, I shouldn’t tell you anything since you kind of repulse me.” She smirks, crinkling her nose and rolling her eyes. “But since I know that you’re not interested in me it makes it a little easier to tell you things I guess.”

  Shocked, I turn and look at her. At that moment, the front tire of my truck runs off the edge of the road. Jerking the steering wheel back, I get my truck settled on the road again. Riding very close to the cliffs of the mountain, I thank God that we are going slow enough that I could control it and we didn’t drop off the edge.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going. Shit! You’re going to kill me.” She laughs nervously at my recklessness.

  “You’re a riot and a very clever girl, but you’re not getting out of answering me.” I chuckle along with her.

  “Shit, caught that did ya? Honestly, I haven’t dated much. Morgan was only the fourth guy I have actually gone on an official date with. I’ve never had a boyfriend so I guess I’m kind of like you in that aspect. Flowers, hearts, and fairytales are more Anna’s style. Sorry sir, but you are wrong about me.”

  Something stirs in me with her admission. “Wow, that was not the answer I was expecting. I guess after the way you approached me the night of Morgan’s party, I thought you were aggressive and comfortable. I must admit there’s more to you, isn’t there baby?” I smile, but she pierces me with a hard glare.

  “Why do you always call me baby? Is there a reason you don’t like calling me by my name?” Suddenly she’s defensive. I didn’t see that mood shift coming. After the comfortable flow we’ve been having, I thought everything was cool. Could it be that silly name?

  The soft pounding rhythm of the windshield wipers are the only sound for a while as I process what she’s asking.

  “Do you not like to be called that or something? It’s really just a habit. I call most women baby, or something similar,” I lie. There are no other women that I call baby. It’s reserved for only one. Groaning through gritted teeth, she appears pissed.

  Locating an old dirt road, I pull my truck onto it and park. Turning sideways in my seat, I see her staring straight out the windshield.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “You’re a jerk!”

  I laugh softly hoping to break the tension. “You want to elaborate?”

  “Honestly, no I don’t. This is stupid. We’re not even close to where we are supposed to be now. What did you think was going to happen between us tonight? Did you offer to babysit me thinking you were going to get lucky?” she growls, demanding a response.

  Now I’m pissed. Wanting to yell, I hold my breath then let it out slowly. “What the hell Breesan? I haven’t said anything to make you think that bullshit.”

  Before I can continue, she hops out and slams the door then walks around to stand in the front of my truck, and I don’t stop her. Damn. What just happened? Everything seemed to be going well for a while there. Then suddenly she’s angry. It couldn’t possibly be the damn nickname. Sighing, I climb out of my truck. I don’t want her standing out in the rain even though it has slowed to a light patter.

  “Babe…Breesan, I’m sorry if I’ve said something to upset you. Will you forgive me? I don’t want to fight. You’re a great girl and I like hanging out with you like this. Would you get back in the truck…please?”

  She stares down at her feet where her boots are covered in red mud on the bottoms. Stomping over to the passenger side, she climbs back in. Following her around to shut her door, she beats me to it and slams it herself. Frustrated, I walk around to the driver side and just before opening the door I see her wiping her eyes. It could be the rain, but it seems more like a move reserved for wiping tears, especially since she’s completely drenched. Sliding in, I turn the heat up to knock the chill off from the now cooler temperature.

  “So, am I forgiven?” I ask again and she nods. Thinking I still want to get to know her, I change the subject quickly. “So, change of topic?”

  She’s quiet for a full minute. “What do you want to talk about?” I’m relieved her anger has subsided or she hides it well.

  “I don’t know anything about you other than you hate to be treated with kid gloves. The way you tore into Tristan tonight for wanting to keep you safe, damn girl.” I shake my head laughing. In my peripheral I catch her shoulders wiggling, indicating a suppressed laugh, and she refuses to look at me. At least she’s not so stiff anymore, I’ll take it.

  “If you don’t feel like talking I can find all sorts of things to talk about. Like Alabama football, riding jet skis, working on old classic cars or music. Just to clarify, that last topic is my favorite so if I get started on it we could be out here all night.” I laugh and she finally rewards me with a smile while looking directly at me. Deciding to continue my rambling, I coax her to respond.

  “I’m a Harry Potter junkie, every time it is on television I watch it.”

  She doesn’t even hesitate. “Mine’s Twilight.” She smiles and my smile grows.

  “I love riding horses but I love old cars more.” I really love my old 69 Camaro sitting in Granddad’s garage.

  “I love dogs, all of them, but cats are just crazy. That one with weird eyes on Facebook freaks me out.” I laugh because I’ve seen that grumpy cat on everyone’s page and completely agree with her opinion.

  “Bet you wouldn’t guess that I am obsessed with Chic-Fila sandwiches. Shit! You can’t tell Kole, he’s always busting my chops about how greasy they are, but honestly it’s one of my favorite cheats. I love their sweet tea and those damn waffle fries. Mm mmm, they are so good. Dammit, I’m getting hungry just talking about it.” I grin, watching her sweet eyes light up.

  “They do have the best sweet tea, well second to Milo’s.” I nod in agreement. “But if I’m going to cheat, it will be at Oyama Sushi. I can’t stress to you how much I love spider rolls.”

  “Nasty! How do you eat that shit? It’s raw fish. I thought growing up in Willow you’d like all your seafood deep fried,” I retort, thoroughly disgusted by the thought of raw fish.

  “Marcus, are you crazy? Of course I eat my catfish beer battered. Spider roll aren’t raw. It is soft shell crab that is deep-fried. And I don’t know why you think I’m that different from you. You are from here, right?”

  Still smiling, I can’t find the words to describe how much better I feel. The knot in my stomach begins to loosen only a few minutes into this new conversation. After the way she reacted earlier, I decide to keep her talking about nonthreatening topics. I sure as hell don’t want her going bat-shit crazy on me like she did on the back porch at Anna’s house. She keeps her guard down for the next hour, as do I.

  “…I love going to concerts and buying every t-shirt the band sells. I literally bought one of every t-shirt they were selling at the Maroon 5 concert last month. Want to know something lame? Even if I don’t like the band, I still buy the shirt because concert tees are the shit and will forever be cool.”

  She stares at my mouth. “You really do that?” she asks disbelieving, still fixed on my mouth and my attention drops to hers, causing me to become transfixed on her pout.

  Swallowing hard, I battle the nervousness rising in my throat. “Yeah I know, crazy shit huh?” I chuckle.

  She smiles, “Hell no, that’s something I do too. So, it’s definitely cool.” She pauses, afraid of what she may reveal. I don’t speak. Locked in a silent heady gaze, she begins to fidget from the intensity. Averting her eyes, I am allowed to think again. I turn over the key in the ignition and pull the truck back onto the road.

  Driving back toward the shelter, I admit that after sharing random quirks about each other I am feeling something stronger for her.
It’s nearing midnight and the storms are almost completely over. I circle the volunteer shelter and slow as I pull into the back parking lot and cruise around to the side of the building where there’s a supply room access. I need to drop off the water cases I still have in the back of my truck.

  “I’m going to tell you something really lame. But you have to promise not to repeat this one. Okay?” She smiles, her cheeks redden as her tone grows serious

  “You got it. I promise not to repeat.” Stuttering through a soft laugh, I stifle it immediately after she lifts her eyebrows. This must be good.

  “Ha ha. Okay, Ugh, good grief I can’t believe I am going to confess this to you. No one and I do mean absolutely not one person knows this about me. So if it ever comes out I will know the source. I will hunt you down and I will do bad things. Got me?”

  Nodding my head slowly in confirmation, I swallow a needy groan in my throat as her little threat affects my body and now I’m wound up tight once again. If she only knew how badly I want to break this promise and let her do those bad things to me. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she nervously bounces her legs.

  She sighs deeply, defeating her anxiousness she squeaks, “I like ink pens.”

  After confessing her little quirkiness, she pauses while turning away from me, embarrassment crawling along her neck and her cheeks in that beautiful shade of blush I love so much. Dropping her elbow on her left knee while looking out the side window, she leans forward slightly. Placing her left hand on the back of her neck, her fingers grip tightly to hide shame.

  “That’s not the truth. I meant to say I really just like to collect pens. I don’t steal them.” Running her hand around the back of her neck, she pulls her hair away, exposing her neck to me, and tempting the hell out of my lips. Damn I want to kiss that sexy curve and leave my mark there. Her shaky laughter catches my attention and I avert my eyes to hers, giving her my undivided attention.

  “If I’m at the doctor’s office and they have a great pen at the sign-in sheet, I ask the receptionist if I can have it. Or if the bank is giving away free pens, then I will take it but only if it’s the perfect pen. The perfect pen usually is one of my favorite colors or if the shape of it feels good in my hand. Then it’s mine. But here’s the really weird part.” Taking a deep breath she continues while laughing at herself now. Wanting to comfort her, I join in with a light laugh. “Dammit.” Shaking her head disappointedly at herself she releases another giggle.