Chapter 12
Beauty cannot be eaten with a spoon
Holy crap, had she died and gone to heaven last night? Maybe she did have too much to drink or went through one of those out of body experiences people talked about on T.V. She pinched her arm. No, she hadn’t died and she didn’t believe a person could physically leave their body and come back. But she had slept with Rann Brogan.
She thought about the two boys she had sex with in the past. Boys, indeed, compared to Rann.
In all respects.
As if her thoughts could summon him, he walked through the door carrying a breakfast tray. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” She studied him as he set the food on the bed beside her.
“Yep, I’m still crazy about you. Haven’t changed my mind,” he tapped her nose, “One. Tiny. Bit.”
“You’re freaking me out.”
“Because I can read your mind or because we were like magic last night, like Fourth of July firelights, like a lunar eclipse, like—”
“Stop!” She pulled the tray onto her lap. “Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Not proud, thrilled your oil and water theory is bullshit.” He wiggled a finger between them. “And I said, ‘we’.
“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You sure earned it.”
“All right, enough.” She wondered if he noticed the heat creeping up her neck. “Thank you for breakfast. I’m starving.”
“I’m going to jump in the shower while you’re eating unless you want to join me.”
She affected her best deadpan face. “I’ll catch one when you’re done.”
“You ready to hit the art exhibit?”
She couldn’t help the smile. “Yes, what time are we leaving?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ll eat fast.”
Before he stepped into the bathroom, he turned to her again. “You gonna bring the camera today or leave it in your bag all weekend?”
“You went through my bag?”
“Yeah, to sniff your underwear. Of course I didn’t go through your bag. The corner of the Canon box is sticking out.”
“All right, I’ll bring it. “Speaking with her mouth full of eggs and toast, she pointed to the bathroom with her fork. “Hurry, we’re burning daylight.”
~*~
Season stood in the vast lobby of the history museum and read the poster about its history. Most of the public space had been renovated ten years ago, although the actual building had been around since 1856. She wished they had time to see all the exhibits, visit all the rooms, but it would take days to accomplish such a feat. “I say we hit the architectural exhibit first and the wildlife exhibit second.”
“No, this is your day. Besides, I’ve seen the architectural exhibit twice.”
“Are you sure?”
He clasped her arm and dragged her off. “This way.”
Like a kid in a candy story, she didn’t know where to start. The photos were phenomenal, breathtaking—a cheetah sleeping on a bed of crushed grass, a whiskered mouse sitting on a giant mushroom cap staring at the moon, and a giant tortoise sweeping through the languid waters of the ocean. “Oh, Rann, look at this one.”
“Huh, a fox chasing a white rabbit across a snowcapped landscape. Pretty cool.”
They spent two hours wandering through the vast room, looking at the photos from every angle, at times close up, sometimes stepping back. She must have taken over one hundred pictures today, and she still didn’t want to leave.
“We can stay if you want, walk through again.”
“No, my head is swimming now from all the wondrous images. Kind of makes me wish I hadn’t dropped out of school for summer.”
Rann inclined his head, eyes wide. “What!”
“Oh, thought I told you. Sorry. Dropped my summer classes but promised to return in the fall.”
“But why?”
She offered a shrug. “I don’t know. I started questioning my own work, wondered if I had chosen the right field.”
He started walking and she kept pace. “Don’t do it…don’t ever question your choices in life. Once you decide on something, no matter what it is, give it one-hundred percent.”
“Hey, it’s all right. When I looked at that cheetah today, I thought about the mountain lion. One day, I’m gonna get his picture. Course it won’t be that mountain lion.”
“What about the Ruby-throated hummingbird like the one on your shoulder blade?”
“You noticed.”
“I notice everything about you…everything.” He pointed to his head. “I bank it up here so when I’m not with you, I can employ instant recall.”
“Oh, Rann.”
“Kind of sick, huh?”
She put a hand on his forearm and stopped him. “You’re dead serious.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe it, don’t know how to explain it. When I saw you, a button clicked. Hell, everything clicked. And no, it’s never happened before, ever.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
He glanced in her direction. “What were you thinking?”
“The truth?”
“Nothing but.”
“I was thinking I need to find a restroom.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” He laughed and grabbed her hand. “Come on, it’s down this hallway.”
~*~
Season relieved her bladder, washed her hands and exited the restroom. She came to an abrupt stop and then ducked around a marble column. Peering around the tower, she watched with morbid curiosity as the scene across the lobby played out.
The woman speaking to Rann had class. Shiny, black capris hugged her narrow hips and muscular calves. A see-through, black blouse, silver waist-length jacket and matching heels topped off her urban look. See-through? Show me your nipples see-through? Straight and slick, her dark brown hair was tucked behind her ears and swayed against her shoulders. She oozed wealth…and anger. Holy crap, is she crying?
Rann’s lips formed a perfect sneer and when she touched his arm, he shrugged it off. An animated conversation broke out. The woman poked him in the chest and he got in her face, jaw clenched, hands fisted. She brushed something from her cheek. Yep, crying.
Fumbling with the camera around her neck Season snapped a quick photo. Just in case the double-crossing prick tried to deny the entire incident. The room went into a spin. Clinging to the marble pillar, she closed her eyes—she couldn’t look anymore—and fought the bile surging up her throat. She had to pull herself together, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d ripped her heart from her chest and trampled it. Why, oh why, did she fall for his sugar-coated tongue when she knew all along he wanted the land, not her?
The woman stormed off; he ran his hands through his hair and then looked toward the restroom. She couldn’t stand here all afternoon. Somehow, she had to muster the strength, collect her battered emotions and come out from her temporary sanctuary. Banning all expression from her face, she stepped out and walked forward.
The two-headed jackal had the nerve to smile at her. “Everything all right?”
“Peachy.”
“You want to grab a bite somewhere? There’s a fantastic burger and fries joint down the block.”
With a hand to her forehead (please, God, don’t let me faint) she forced a depleted smile. “I feel a headache coming on. Must have been all the excitement.”
“Oh, no, let’s get you home. Motrin and a nap might make you feel better.”
Nothing short of slitting your throat will make me feel better. “Yes, possibly.”
Parked in the street next to a meter, they reached the car minutes later. She wanted to scream at the beautiful blue sky overhead, the bright sun. How dare it keep shining when her world had just exploded.
He opened her door and waited until she settled in before he shuffled around to his side. After sliding behind the wheel and starting the engine, he looked over at her. “You�
��re so quiet; you sure everything is all right, besides the headache, I mean?”
Wonder how long a prison sentence for murder is these days? “Of course, what could be wrong?”
The air in the car thickened. He knew, must have figured out she saw them talking. She couldn’t think about this now. She had to get back to his condo, make it to the bathroom before she vomited.
The garage door opened. Before the car came to a complete halt, she scrambled from the seat and ran into the house. She took the stairs two at a time and barely made it to the toilet bowl before tossing up her breakfast.
Rann appeared behind her in a heartbeat. “What’s going on? I’m taking you to ER.”
“No!” Hanging on to the bathroom counter, she inched her way to the sink, turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over her face. Breathe, Season, breathe.
Rann filled a glass with water and handed it to her. “You’re scaring me.”
Stumbling from the bathroom, she grabbed her bag from the floor, gathered her clothing and tossed it in.
“What are you doing? Talk to me.” He grabbed her arm. “Season, talk to me.”
“Don’t touch me!”
Oh, God, where had she left her toothbrush, makeup and hairbrush? Leave them; you can replace them when you get back to Minnesota, back to Duna.
Bag over her shoulder, she stomped toward the bedroom door and felt him dogging her heels. “Wait!”
“Go to hell.”
“Let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” She reached for the handle but he lunged, slammed the door shut and flipped her around. Crashing his hands into the panel on both sides of her head, he leaned into her, their faces inches apart. “You’re not leaving.”
“You can’t stop me! I am leaving.”
His eyes morphed into cold blue steel. “Over my dead body.”
“Believe me, if I had a knife, I’d plunge it into your heart, you lying snake.”
She didn’t know if he gasped or blew a breath, perhaps both, but he did drop his hands and step back. “I never lied to you.”
“Stop it! Just stop!” Her hand connected with his cheek. She stared at the bright, read palm print before her eyes traveled upward and met his. Arctic glaciers had rolled in.
An interminable amount of time passed before he spoke. “You ready to listen?”
“The only thing I want to hear from your deceitful mouth is goodbye.”
His calm tone unnerved her. “I can’t say it.”
“Then step back so I can open the door.”
He advanced. “No.”
Desire, hot and needy spread outward to every limb, every cell in her body. This can’t be happening. Hate him, Season, hate him for the treacherous bastard he is.
His voice a whisper, he inched closer. “God help me, I want you. I don’t know how to let you go. You’re in my blood, in my head, burrowed in so deep I’d rather die than say goodbye to you. Cliché, I know, but every word true.”
Was he touching her again, those lush lips hovering over hers? She didn’t know. He seemed to be everywhere, above her, under her, inside her. Every barrier she’d erected against him dissolved like morning dew under the sun.
Her lips sought his. His hands clasped the sides of her head, crushing, almost punishing. Arms met and tangled, his slamming her into the door frame; hers, ripping the shirt from his body. She didn’t know who had removed his clothing…or hers.
He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. When he drove into her, she cried out. She couldn’t think anymore, couldn't breathe. Her mind had gone blank, her body boneless. No one spoke, not one word. The sex was desperate, rough, a take no prisoners joining, that long minutes later, left them emotionally drained and physically spent. If her lips felt like inflated water balloons, which they did, his face had just tangled with barbed wire…and lost. How was it possible he could summon a fiend from her body? Who was she, and why hadn't Duna told her a split personality would emerge one day?
He pulled out and together they slid to the floor. Their bodies spooned, he held her in his arms, his breaths coming hard and fast.
Doomed, Season. Cursed and damned for all eternity.
Chapter 13
In the village without dogs the farmers walked without sticks
Shit. What had come over him? Somewhere between ‘Step back so I can open the door’ and ‘No’ he lost it, had mutated into some demon sector of his persona he’d never met before.
“Are you okay?”
A sniffle and a meek nod.
“Did I hurt you?”
A long pause before she answered. “What time frame are we in…pre-sex or during?”
“Both. Are you ready to listen or are you going to shift into the feral cat again?”
“I’m. Not. Sure. I didn’t invite the rabid beast; she just showed up. And she is so banned from the next party. To be safe, I think we should call it a day, or a big, fat error in judgment on both our parts.”
“No way, not going to happen. I don’t care about her—the woman you saw me with—not in the past and certainly not now.”
“Who is she?”
“The daughter of my mother’s best friend.”
“I saw her crying for Christ sakes, crying.”
“Yes, I didn’t say she didn’t have feelings for me.”
She heaved a sigh. “Do these feelings involve intimacy?”
“What? Oh, you’re asking if we had a sexual relationship. No, never.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that? That woman is gorgeous, the stuff of every man’s erotic fantasy.”
“Not mine. Look, I confess to sleeping with other woman in the past, but never her.”
Time crawled through the room like a snail on lithium. Jesus, what is rambling around in that complicated head of yours now, Season?
“How many women?”
“I have no idea. If I could have predicted the future, I would have notched them on my belt so I could tell you the truth right now. Will you accept enough but never her?”
“Since you don’t have the belt, my answer on the herd numbers is yes.”
“What about her, do you believe me?”
He waited for her answer…and waited. “I’d never cry over a man I wasn’t intimate with, didn’t love.”
Stroking the side of her head, he said, “I know, oh, how I know. But if we start comparing how you think to how other women think, I’m screwed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re one-of-a-kind. You have some type of internal compass; call it a moral code or a core belief that allows you to see right from wrong, sense dark auras from light. There is no gray with you, and you live your life according to that edict.”
“You make me sound like a freak.”
“A freak, no. A pain-in-the-ass, yes.” At last, her body relaxed and her breathing returned to normal. “Do you think we could move to the bed? I mean, aren’t we a little old for Kindergarten nap time?”
He carried her. The sun had fallen, pitching the room into eerie twilight.
Her words came with a hushed sigh. "I'm scared."
"I know, sweet girl, oh, how I know. Me too." Shit, what was he going to do? His emotions were so volatile when it came to her, he should seriously think about going outside to play in traffic. “Hey, I have to go see about Rook. Promise me you won’t try to sneak off while I’m gone.”
Silence.
Standing beside the bed, stuffing his legs into his pants, he looked down at her. “I’ll take the keys to the Denali away if you don’t answer me.”
“As if that would stop me. I’m quite resourceful.”
“Don’t forget stubborn, determined and—”
“All right already.”
“Your word, Season.”
“Fine. I’ll be right here when you return, Rann Brogan, like an obedient, little idiot.”
He put an open hand in the air, fingers spread.
“Okay, I’ll be back in five.”
Rook scrambled in from the back yard and almost sprinted toward the bowl of food he’d filled moments ago. While the dog lapped up water, Rann tipped his head back, eyes closed. He couldn’t lose her. The thought of Season no longer in his life pitched his heart into a perpetual state of erratic arrhythmia.
His cell went off. Shit! Teeth-gnashing time. Full battle armor required. Hell, perhaps Armageddon.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Bernadette called. She’s hysterical.”
“Classic Bernadette.”
“She followed you downtown, saw you with some girl. Wait…correction. Saw you holding hands with some girl.”
His heart fell to some unknown place below his knees. “What is my life, a freak show open to the public? I don’t give one shit about Bernadette’s hysterics or her covert operations.”
“She loves you, Rann.”
“I never gave her reason to love me. I don’t want her love, and if you keep going down this road, I don’t want yours either.” Under his breath, he added. “If I ever had it to begin with.”
“Who is she?”
“None of your goddamned business.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that!”
“Or what…you gonna fire me, cut me out of your Will?”
“Clearly, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Wrong. I think I finally found it.”
“That’s it. I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with your childish antics. Martin just called me from Pine Bay.”
“You sent Martin to Pine Bay?”
“You left me no choice. I have millions tied up in this project and you have been less than forthcoming with answers or solutions.”
“I offered a solution; told you to cut your losses on Pine Pay and swivel the poor bastards in Virginia out of their land.”
“Terra-Care pays top dollar for every scrap of land they purchase.”
“Yeah, after they’ve threatened and bullied the owners.”
“Martin has it on good authority the grandfather is not the one holding up the entire development. Neighbors claim it’s the girl, his granddaughter, who insists Indians are buried on their property.”
“Native Americans, Charlotte. They’re called Native Americans.” He laughed. “Who lived on the land long before we stole it from them.”
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 183