Trust the Moon

by Jamie Craig

  Cory’s mouth pulled into a moue as he considered it. “Quiet. Kind of a tomboy until she started developing. Then the boys wouldn’t leave her alone, but she never seemed too interested in them.” He snorted. “Which only drove them crazier. Nothing like wanting what you can’t have.”

  “Did she seem like a happy kid? Were things always rough for her?”

  “Happy enough, I suppose. Her mom took off when she was just a baby. That just left Gena and Hugh to take care of each other. But he never complained about her, and she doted on him.”

  “So, he was basically the center of her world. And she saw…” Dylan stood up, no longer interested in the iced tea and Cory’s memory. “I came over here on my lunch break.”

  “Your mom’s going to be upset she missed you.”

  “I’ll come back tonight for dinner. Actually, Mom’s probably beat. I’ll come back tonight and make dinner.”

  Cory walked with him back to the front door. “Tell Gena to come by if she needs anything.”

  “I will.”

  He left Cory standing on his porch, and wished he could just shift into a bird and wing his way back to Gena. He wanted to tell her everything would be fine. More than that, he wanted to change the world so he wouldn’t be a liar when he told her everything was fine.

  He wouldn’t blame her if she never believed him.

  Chapter Six

  Dylan read the latest Stephen King until the words blurred and he was forced to lay the book over his chest. It would be easier to sleep, especially since his eyes were burning and there was a steady ache behind his sinuses. He loved his mother, but spending all evening with her could be an ordeal. She exhausted him, and sleeping would be best, but every time he closed his eyes—every single time—he saw Gena. He had it bad for her. If he ever doubted it, he didn’t now.

  If she doesn’t come back to town by Saturday, I’m going to see her.

  Except if she didn’t come back by Saturday, wasn’t that a pretty clear signal that she didn’t want anything to do with him or with Delta? It would be easiest to respect that. But his father’s warning came back to him. She needed to know she was wanted. She needed somebody to fight for her.

  He was still mulling ways to be her champion when a bird swept into the bedroom, flying through the open window to circle above the bed. Dylan smiled. “I was just thinking about you.”

  The bird landed at the foot of the bed and changed before his eyes. Her outline smoothed, stretched, feathers lengthening and softening, shifting into the long thick waves he remembered so well. Her eyes were hooded, but the moment they fixed on Dylan, something in them gleamed. It gave him a little bit of hope. Hell, just the fact that she’d come to him at all gave him hope.

  “How’d you know it was me?”

  “I’d always know you. Actually, I just hoped it was you and not some random bird I’d have to shoo away.”

  She cocked one finely arched brow. “You have a lot of random birds flying into your window? Don’t they know about your heights thing?”

  “I don’t broadcast I’m afraid of heights,” Dylan said, letting the book fall away as he sat up. “And I don’t have random birds flying in often, but there’s a first time for everything. You here for your clothes?”

  “Oh.” A small frown marred her smooth features. “I hadn’t thought about those.”

  Dylan’s smile widened. “I don’t care if you leave them.” He reached for her hand. “I just wanted to make sure you were here to see me.”

  It wasn’t until his fingers brushed over her knuckles that he saw how torn up they were. Dried blood stained the broken skin, but when he tried to get a closer look, Gena pulled her hand back.

  “I got my paw trapped in some rocks. It’s nothing.”

  Dylan leaned forward, trying to get another glance at her knuckles. “It might not be nothing. Let me look.”

  Her entire body tilted away from him, ready to flee. Had he pressed too hard? When her hand lifted, he fully expected to see it curl into a talon again. His heart leapt when she held it out to him.

  “It doesn’t even hurt. It happens all the time.”

  He gently took her wrist, and her pulse thrummed beneath his fingers. Her knuckles were scraped and bruised, but they appeared to be healing. His number one concern was infection, but the surrounding skin wasn’t swollen or discolored. He brought her hand up to his mouth, gently kissing each sore knuckle.

  “When was the last time you had a nice, hot bath?”

  Her rich chuckle rolled over him like a warm embrace. “You’ve seen where I live. I get cold skinny-dips most of the time.”

  Dylan unfolded his legs from beneath him and stood, without releasing Gena’s hand. He gently pulled her from the bed, trying not to stare at her beautiful body.

  “Then let’s take advantage of the miracle of modern plumbing.”

  She followed without protest, which he thought was as much of a miracle as her showing up unannounced. He wanted to ask where she had been, what she had been doing, what had prompted her to seek him out, but somehow he managed to contain his curiosity. She was here. That was what mattered.

  While he started the hot water in the tub, Gena sat on its edge, looking around the small room. “I like your house. It’s cozy.”

  “Yeah, it’s not too bad. My parents wanted me to stay at home while I worked on my degree. They said it’d be easier for me. But I saw this place was available and rent’s only a couple hundred.” Dylan looked away from the running water to meet her eyes. “Of course, it’s not as extreme as running to a cave in the desert, but to hear my parents tell it, it was worse.”

  She didn’t back down from his gaze. “Why did you move out? Weren’t they right about it being easier for you?”

  “Sure, it might have been easier. But it wasn’t necessary. Besides, I wanted to start dating and have a life. Plus, you know my dad. He thinks he has to be a father to everybody under the age of sixteen.”

  “I know your dad?”

  “Yes. Cory Peterson. The assistant principal.”

  “Huh.” The new knowledge seemed to drive her thoughts inward again, a development Dylan regretted as soon as he recognized it. “I didn’t make the connection.”

  “Should I take that as a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “What? Oh, no, that’s not bad. Mr. Peterson was…” She caught herself with a small smile. “Though some things make more sense now.”

  Dylan watched her carefully. “We could go see him sometime. I’m sure he would be happy to know how you’re doing.”

  Her focus shifted to the rushing water, and she bent to the side to run her fingers through the rippling surface. “That’s okay. You can just fill him in. If he asks.”

  “Yeah. I will. Anyway, this place is cozy.”

  “You have to admit, my cave’s cozy too. Maybe it doesn’t have this, but it’s got other advantages.”

  “Which advantages are those?”

  “Privacy. No alarm clocks.” She scooted closer. “Just a little bit chilly so you have to cuddle up to another body in order to keep warm.”

  “You like it when it’s chilly? I can crank up the air. It’ll be so chilly, you won’t have any choice but to cuddle up as close as possible. As for privacy…” Dylan made a show of looking around. “I don’t see any peeping Toms.”

  “You’re peeping.”

  “I’m drawing your bath, milady. I don’t think that counts as peeping.”

  Her mouth opened to say something, only to close again when she obviously changed her mind. Several seconds passed where the only sound was the water echoing where it splashed into the tub.

  “Are you going to wash my back too?”

  Dylan tested the temperature of the water, then turned to the closet and took out a thick, fluffy towel. “And your hair. You can go ahead and get in.”

  The water splashed softly, followed by an even softer sigh. By the time he turned back, Gena was stretched out in the tub, her arms along the
sides, her head resting on the end. Her eyes were closed, and there was such a look of blissful peace on her face, Dylan’s gut wrenched.

  “Warm is good too,” she murmured.

  Dylan snagged a washcloth and knelt beside the tub. He didn’t want to do anything except stare at her. Despite everything she let him do, everything they shared on Saturday night, he still felt like there was more of her body to explore. He wanted to know the story behind each mark on her lovely skin.

  “I’m really glad you decided to come visit me.”

  Her nipples peeked out through the smooth surface of the water, tight puckered buds that tempted him to touch. Gena moved the arm between them to fold it over her stomach and out of his way, but she didn’t otherwise disturb her relaxed pose, not even to open her eyes.

  “Will you be upset if I don’t spend the night?”

  “I’ll miss you,” Dylan answered honestly. “But I won’t be upset with you. Why? You plan on loving and leaving me?”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “Who said we were having sex?”

  “You came to talk?”

  Beads of water clung to her lashes. She inhaled once, twice, a third time before answering. “I came because it was too quiet.”

  Dylan soaped up the washcloth and started at her neck, gently caressing her smooth skin. Her answer was a shot of optimism, but he suppressed his smile. He didn’t want to get too cocky about his chances.

  “After we’re done in here…do you want to watch a movie or something? I could make you some dinner.”

  She opened her eyes at that, head turning towards him. “Weren’t you going to bed?”

  “No, I was just reading.” His hand plunged beneath the water, dragging the cloth down her stomach. “And thinking about you. I’d rather be awake with you than lying in bed and wondering where you are.”

  “You could’ve come to see me.”

  Dylan tried to read her face, but she wasn’t giving him any hints. His gaze slid down her body. He loved the exquisite shape of her shoulder. “I figured you know how I feel about you. I want to spend time with you. I thought it might be best if I waited for you to take the next step.”

  “You say that like I know what’s going on. Or what to do. I don’t. I don’t know anything anymore.”

  “Is that why you let me trick you into the tub so I could rub my hands all over your gorgeous body?” Dylan asked lightly.

  “I’m the one who benefits most from this.” She lifted a wet hand to touch his forearm, drawing random patterns in the dark hair as her fingers climbed its length. “I don’t know anybody else who would even offer.”

  “You haven’t answered my other offer. DVD, food, maybe popcorn later?”

  “Popcorn doesn’t count as food?”

  Dylan chuckled. “Popcorn is more of a snack. I’m talking about some real food. Not that I’m the greatest chef in the world. So you’d be taking your chances.”

  Her hand fell away, floating along the surface of the water while the rest of her relaxed with it. “I did promise you a second date. I should probably keep my word before you lose faith in me.”

  He sat back on his heels and let his hands hang over the side of the tub and in the water. “Why would I lose faith in you?”

  Gena’s smile was a parody of her usual playful grin. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the wild child. Unreliable. Go where the wind takes me.”

  “I’ve heard lots of things about you,” Dylan said slowly. “But nothing of what I heard made me think you’re an unreliable wild child.”

  Her smile faded, replaced by a look he couldn’t describe. Disbelief? No, that wasn’t right. A shade of surprised. But that wasn’t quite right either. “I’d love to stay for dinner and a movie. Thanks.”

  “Thanks for accepting my invitation.” He pushed gently on her shoulder. “Get your hair wet.”

  She dipped beneath the water, her hair flowing around her like flames. When she surfaced again and pushed the hair from her face, Dylan couldn’t resist leaning forward far enough to kiss her. The contact was barely hard enough to disturb the drops of water on her skin. He didn’t want to get drawn into kissing her, and then touching her, and then joining her in the tub and splashing the cooling water all over the bathroom.

  So he leaned back and reached for the shampoo. “I’ve never washed anybody’s hair before.”

  She held her hand out automatically. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll do it.”

  Dylan held the bottle out of reach. “I want to.”

  Her lips twitched. “We could wrestle for it.”

  “Or you could just relax in my nice tub and let me finish what I started.”

  Now the smile was back, but this was better, blooming from real amusement that burned hotter than any touch she might bestow. He was ready for her to follow through on her proposition, but slowly, she sat up and turned awkwardly in the tub, the delicate line of her back facing him.

  “The first time you pull my hair,” she warned, though he could still hear her smile, “you’ll be the one in the water.”

  “I won’t pull your hair,” Dylan vowed, pouring his regular amount of shampoo in his palm. After a second of consideration, he added more to his cupped hand, and then ran it down her hair. Beginning at the top of her head, he massaged her scalp, working the soap to the tips. Her hair was much longer when the curls were straightened out with the weight of the water. “That’s not so bad, is it?”

  “No.” Her voice had gone husky. The sound of it went straight to his cock. “It’s nice. Very nice.” She groaned as his fingers worked at her nape, tilting her head forward. “God, that feels amazing.”

  Dylan couldn’t disagree. He filed away every one of her reactions, the texture of her skin and hair, the way her eyelashes lay across her cheeks when she closed her eyes, trying to prepare himself for the fact that he might not get another chance to do this. Even after he thought her hair had to be clean, he didn’t stop massaging her.

  Her breath came long and deep, her limbs so languid they looked boneless within the water. Then her lips parted, soft and full, so succulent he wished he had the nerve to break the spell woven between them to kiss her. Need for her gnawed through his veins, but Dylan squashed it down. Later. Right now was for Gena.

  She was the one to pull away, to sink below the surface of the water and start rinsing the soap out of her hair. His hands joined hers, their fingers tangling in the thick, wet mass as they worked together.

  “I have conditioner,” Dylan volunteered, once she lifted her head again. “My sister left it the last time she stayed here.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yeah. She goes to school in Salt Lake City. She hides out here when she comes back and needs a break from our parents. Her hair isn’t anything like yours, but it’s better than nothing, right?”

  Gena nodded wordlessly, and they repeated the rite. There were no attempts at play this time, no awkwardness as they maneuvered back into position. Her moans started nearly as soon as his fingertips touched her scalp, and an array of goose flesh erupted along her arms.

  He had wanted an excuse to be close to her, first and foremost. And then he had simply wanted a chance to savor her, to give her the attention and human contact she deserved. But each moan went straight to his cock, and he had to sneak a hand away to adjust himself in his shorts. If she noticed it, he didn’t doubt she would offer to help him with it. But that didn’t seem right. So he tried to will the erection away as he smoothed his fingers through each strand of hair, and noticed the way the light gleamed on her neck.

  Sweat had beaded onto her brow by the time she twisted away to rinse off the conditioner. Dylan stared in rapt fascination as she dipped beneath the surface, the filmy water lapping at her near-flawless skin. Her nipples had distended even further, and he suspected that if he looked further down, he’d see the glistening proof of her arousal. But he didn’t touch, as much as he wanted to. He wanted her to see that she was more to him than
just some sex object, that she was human and desired for reasons other than how she could pleasure him.

  Water dropped onto his bare arm when she sat back up. “The curls are going to go crazy,” she said with a smile. “Next time I do this, we’re going to make sure we’ve got my stuff here instead.”

  Dylan smiled. “You know, I’m keeping track of this stuff. After tonight, I’ve got another date and another bath time to look forward to.”

  Leaning forward, Gena grazed her mouth over his, wet and sweet and far too fleeting. “And the fact that you even want to keep track? Makes it easier to think about more.”

  He stood up, because if he didn’t he was going to crawl right into the water with her, clothes and all. He put a hand down to help her to her feet, and stared for a moment. Not stared—ogled. With the hair hanging down around her shoulders in a thick curtain, and the water rolling off her skin, catching the light just before it hit the pool at her feet, she looked like a goddess. Dylan wrapped the towel around her shoulders before she had the chance to shiver, then helped her step over the side of the tub.

  “I…I probably have a spare T-shirt, if you want one.”

  “I would. Thanks.”

  The concession gave him a reason to escape the urge to take what he knew she would freely give. He rushed to grab a shirt from his dresser. When he returned, she was running the towel briskly over her damp skin, turning it a slight pink.

  As he handed over the shirt, he realized that he really wanted Gena to have it. Gena could take anything she saw in the house, and he would gladly hand it over. When she pulled the soft cotton over her head, he hoped it would soothe some of the desire still heating his blood, but somehow seeing her standing in his bathroom with his shirt made things worse. Which, in a way, made things better.

  “Tonight, milady, you can dine on either leftover lasagna, or I have a roast I can pop in the oven. Though…I guess since you don’t want to stay late, it might be best to eat the lasagna.”

  “Lasagna sounds good.” Before his disappointment could dig its hooks into him too deeply, though, she stepped up to him and looped her arms around his neck. “But because it sounds good. Not because I’m in any kind of a hurry.”