The trooper stepped out of his car as I approached.
“Ms Benton, it will be safer for you to stay in your vehicle.”
Wind from the passing cars blew my hair in my face. Geez. He pulls the only person on the road who was actually doing the speed limit.
“Is there a problem? I’ve got a long way to go before I get home.”
The Trooper’s face broke in a big grin. “There’s a rest area about three miles up the Interstate. I’ll follow you there, and hopefully, we can wrap this up without having a fatality on the side of the road.”
“What’s the hold up?”
“Things are always a little slow on Sunday.”
I sighed, got in my car, and waited for an opening on the Talledega Speedway.
****
An hour later I was still waiting. An hour. The State Trooper had escorted me into the office where the rest area workers eat their lunch. He excused himself to wait for the DMV to okay me. I could see him sitting in his car from the window. This was ridiculous.
To my surprise, I watched my car pull up beside the Trooper’s car. Scott got out and walked over to have a brief conversation with him before the Trooper backed out of the parking space, and drove away.
A set up.
Through a red haze, I watched him approach the building, his face shuttered, the same clothes he had thrown on this morning. My legs shook, so I sat down at the table and waited for him to enter the room. When the door opened and he walked in, I took a deep breath. How could he have done this to me?
“This is police harassment. I’m going to report you and that State Trooper.” My voice was calm, controlled. Good.
His eyes burned into me. Intense, but not anger and not passion. Something else.
He reached into his pocket, walked over to the table, and set something on it.
My cell phone.
“You stole my car and my cell phone?”
“No. You left your cell phone at Mom’s.”
“You had a State Trooper take me into custody so you could give me back my cell phone?” My heart thumped hard in my chest. I wanted to scream and hit him for putting me through all this.
“I thought you’d need it.” He set my car key beside it. “Here’s your key. I’ll take Mom’s car back to her.”
My anger deflated, and I slumped. This was it then. No need to meet back up in Clavania at a later date.
But you love me.
His eyes, those gorgeous eyes, seared into me. “You be careful.”
He turned to the door, opened it, and walked out. In shock, I couldn’t move for about five seconds.
Oh, no. He was not going to get the last word this time.
I started to run after him, but remembered I still had Emily’s key. I watched from the window hoping he didn’t have a spare.
He didn’t. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. I smirked when he pounded the top of the car with his fist. He stared at the building. I waited. He stood out there a few minutes before striding back. I took the key from my pants pocket and stuffed it in my bra and moved to the back of the room.
He walked in with his face hard.
Didn’t it suck when you had to come back after giving such a great exit line?
“I need the car key.”
I strolled toward him. No, I meandered toward him. I pushed the door closed and locked it. He stepped out of the way before it hit him.
“What car key?” I purred.
“No games, Abigail. Give me the key, and you can be on your way.”
“No games? You steal my car so I can’t leave. Then you call in a state trooper to detain me. And I’m playing games?”
Scott ran his fingers over his scalp and gripped his hair. Then throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender, he exclaimed. “Fine. It was stupid. I was wrong. I wasn’t ready for you to go, then you left your damn cell phone, and I knew you’d go on to the community center without it. You need your phone in case something happens. I needed you to have it.”
His agonized gaze met mine. “For my peace of mind.”
My heart thawed, my anger dissipated. Oh, my gosh. He’s worried about me. I wanted to kiss him.
“Thank you. Thank you for bringing it to me.”
He shrugged and looked away. “So, if you’ll just give me Mom’s car key, I’ll leave you alone.”
“You’ll have to find it.” I stood in front of him and put my arms around his waist. “Here’s a hint. It is somewhere on my person.”
The dam broke.
Well, that’s the best way I can describe it.
His arms went around me, and he picked me up bringing me up against him. Our mouths came together with fury or passion or both. My fingers pulled up the back of his shirt, and I found the edge of the scar and the new soft skin that I suspected was a graft, reminders about how close he came to not being here with me. I wrapped my legs around him and hooked my feet, hearing my shoes hit the floor. Excitement zipped through me when I felt him hard against my body.
He growled in satisfaction when his fingers came into contact with the key. With one last hard kiss, he set me on the floor. Breathing hard, he ran his hands up and down my back.
“I wish,” I said trying to catch my breath. “you would stop walking out on me.”
“I wish you wouldn’t go back to Clavania.”
“But you know I need to, right? You know I have to.”
He did know. I saw it in his eyes. Resignation. Acceptance.
“I…” He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he gave me a look that curled my toes. “I don’t want this to be it, and, I don’t want a call from Bryant in a week telling me that some banger has gunned you down.”
He was afraid.
“What do you want me to do, Scott? I can’t hide in your mom’s basement forever. I need to get back to my life. And you need to get back to yours.”
“I thought I was.”
“Without me. Otherwise you and I spend all of your spare time at Satchel Lake. I have responsibilities in Clavania. I can’t just walk away from them.”
He let go of me and stepped away. Turning to the door, he put his hand on the knob. “If you don’t mind, I’ll call Bryant and ask him to keep an eye on you.”
I wouldn’t mind it. I’d never admit it to Scott, but I had some trepidation about going back. I didn’t want to be gunned down either.
“I don’t mind.”
Turning he studied me for a moment, opened the door, and left.
Scott had done it again. He had walked out on me.
We’re really going to have to work on that.
****
I arrived at my apartment with its newly painted door before midnight. Everything was pretty much as I had left it. There was some comfort in knowing that whoever had left the bomb hadn’t come back to burn down the building. The next morning, I went into work and tackled the massive pile that was my inbox. I called Mr. Harvey and invited him out to lunch. He accepted.
At a little Italian place a few blocks from my work, we sat at a table and enjoyed the breadsticks while we waited on the food we’d ordered. I asked and he told me what had been happening at the center while I had been gone. I noticed he didn’t ask when I was coming back.
“I guess you think I shouldn’t volunteer there anymore.”
His wise smile cushioned his words. “I think it would be best for you to wait until the police catch whoever tried to bomb your apartment.”
“You don’t think Angel could be involved, do you? A friend of mine believes it was Angel who hit me in the alley when I had to go to the hospital to get my head stitched up.”
Mr. Harvey studied me. “They found some spray cans, but there were no fingerprints on file.”
“Does Angel have a record?”
“Not that I know of. He’s a minor so any record he does have would be sealed. However, if his fingerprints were on file, and they were on that paint can, the police would have questioned him. I would h
ave heard about it.”
The waitress brought our food. I smiled my appreciation at her. Since working at Waffle Mania, I had a greater appreciation of those in the restaurant industry. Mr. Harvey and I ate for a few minutes in silence.
With half of my shrimp primavera gone, I pushed the rest of the pasta around in the white sauce with my fork. “I believe in the community center. I want to keep working there.”
“Give it a little time. There’s more you can do than being with the kids. You’re a CPA. Why don’t you help me with the books? That would be a big help.”
“Sure. I could do that.”
Mr. Harvey wiped his mouth and placed his napkin next to his empty plate. He signaled the waitress for the check. When she brought it to the table, he moved it out of my reach. “My treat, Abigail.”
“But I invited you.”
“Sorry, young lady. Call me a chauvinist, but when I take a woman out to lunch, I buy.”
“It’s not a date.”
“No, but we discussed business so I can write it off on my taxes. Would you say so, Ms. CPA?”
I laughed. “Yes. It’s a legitimate expense.”
“Good.”
I studied this dear man sitting across from me. “Do you remember telling me that the kids call you ‘Moon Pie’?”
The smile faded from his face. He nodded.
“It’s not an insult, you know. Not like you think. They call you that because you have a hard shell on the outside, but on the inside you’re all soft and mushy like a marshmallow.”
Mr. Harvey’s eyebrows rose, his expression shocked. “They think I’m a pushover?”
“No. They think you’re a moon pie, the perfect blend of crust and marshmallow, hard and soft, respect and love.”
A big grin creased his face. “Moon Pie. That’d look good on a vanity plate, wouldn’t it?”
Chapter Fourteen
The irony of being home was that my life was still in a holding pattern thanks to Scott. He was obviously not a phone person as I had yet to reach him on his cell. I left messages on his voice mail, but he never called me back. His mom and I had struck up a pretty neat friendship via email. She was one of those kinds of people who forwarded jokes and cute stories. Every once in a while she’d send me a ‘real’ E-mail about her son. Here were some memorable ones.
I went into Stone Rand, and Scotty took me to lunch. He seems to like his work. The waitress left her phone number on the receipt, but I threw it away.
My dryer went out, and Scotty brought the new one out to the house and hooked it up for me.
Scotty bought a house in Stone Rand yesterday.
The last one raised my eyebrows. Two weeks had gone by, and I hadn’t heard a thing from him. Had he decided he didn’t love me after all? Were those nights in his mother’s basement just sex? I hadn’t thought so, but goodness knows I had been dumb about relationships before.
I decided to call the ATF office in Stone Rand. I closed my office door before looking up the number from the Internet and dialing it on my cell. I told the man who picked up the telephone I was Delia Travers just in case Scott decided he didn’t want to talk to me.
“McIntyre” was his greeting.
Hearing his voice gave me chills. I missed him. I wanted to see him. I wanted to kiss him.
“I want to wrap my legs around your naked body,” I purred.
“Vivian?”
“Who’s Vivian?” I snapped.
He laughed. “Who is this? Because I know it isn’t Delia Travers.”
He didn’t know? A lump rose in my throat. I hung up. I sat at my desk and stared at my cell phone. I was an idiot.
It rang. I looked at the screen and saw it was him. I thought about not answering it, but I had to know he knew it was me. I hit the button, but I couldn’t even say ‘Hello.’
“What? Abigail Benton can’t take a joke? I don’t believe it.”
I swallowed hard. “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Right. With some tart named Vivian?”
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m flying into Stone Rand Friday night. You be at the airport to pick me up.” I disconnected. Let him see how he liked someone else getting the last word in.
He called me back, but I let my voice mail get it. I needed to book a flight to Stone Rand. I hoped they had an airport. I hoped I wasn’t about to make a bigger idiot of myself. Anyway, if he wanted to break up with me, he sure as heck was going to do it to my face. Not like we had actually agreed in words that we were a couple. I thought making love implied it. I thought him telling me he loved me cemented it. Maybe I had been wrong about Scott. Well, I was about to put several hundred dollars on my credit card and spend my weekend in Stone Rand finding out.
****
The great thing about living in Clavania was it was the hub for Sentry Airlines, so I was able to get a direct flight on a puddle jumper airplane which landed in Stone Rand at a quarter to eight Central Standard Time. I ignored the butterflies flitting in my stomach and tried to think positive thoughts. Scott would be here to meet me.
I walked across the tarmac toward the low building, the Stone Rand airport. Entering the door, I walked up a flight of stairs with eleven other passengers. A woman in a Sentry suit directed us to baggage claim. I hadn’t checked my bag, but I figured if Scott were here, baggage claim would be where he’d meet me. I walked through a door in a glass wall which separated the gates from the rest of the airport and saw Scott.
My heart lurched.
Oh, my gosh, he was hot.
Dressed in black jeans, a black T-shirt with a black leather jacket, he looked like a biker, a very sexy biker. His dark, almost black, hair was shorter than I remember, cut close to his head, sticking up on top. His legs were shoulder width apart, his arms folded across his chest, and his chin was tucked, but the electric look he sent my way had my feet picking up the pace to close the distance between us. He wanted me. This had to be a good sign.
Only his eyes moved, tracking me as I approached.
“Hi.” I stopped in front of him, not sure what to do. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“You’re welcome. Can I take your bag?”
I handed it to him, brushing his fingers as I did so. The contact zinged through me. My boobs tingled. Wow.
We walked side by side toward the exit. Should I make small talk? How’s the weather been? Any rain? Could I be any more lame? My tongue, thankfully, stuck to the roof of my mouth.
In the parking lot, he opened the door to his mother’s car.
“You don’t have a car, yet?” I asked as I sat on the front passenger seat.
“A motorcycle.” He shut the door and walked around the front of the car. Oh, he looked good in those jeans. Was it hot in here?
He slid my carry-on over the driver’s seat, took off his jacket, threw it in the backseat as well, and sat down beside me. His exposed arms were muscular. I’d only seen his arms a few times, only once with clothes on as he had always worn long sleeves as Eli and suits as an agent. The one and only time I had seen him in a T-shirt with exposed arms had been at the visitor’s center the last time I’d seen him, kissed him.
Take me now.
He reached for his seat belt. I jumped him. Our mouths moved against each other, the kiss deepening. I slid one hand up his arm and under his sleeve, recognizing the feel of his skin over firm muscle. His fingers caressed under my shirt, too. I giggled and squirmed when his touch tickled my ribs. The horn blared and I pulled back. In the darkened interior we stared at each other.
“Want to get something to eat?”
“Can we get a pizza to go?”
He grinned. In a few minutes, he’d pulled up to a pizza place which advertised five dollar single topping pizzas—hot and ready.
Hot and ready. Yeah, I could relate.
With the aroma of the pizzas filling the car, Scott drove through the city into an upscale neighborhood.
“Are we going to your house?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Your mom has been emailing me.”
Scott didn’t reply. We drove through an open gate onto a tree lined road. “Do you live in the woods?”
“Close. Each lot is at least an acre. Mine is three.” Pride filled his tone.
“How’s that feel? Being a home owner?”
“Scary.”
“Eli wouldn’t go for it, would he?”
“No. He would say when you own possessions, they own you.”
“So, how does buying a house fit in with Eli’s philosophy? Was that an act, or do you really feel that way?”
“I don’t know. There’s a lot of freedom in not being tied down to anything but a job which sends you from one place to the next. But it’s lonely, and it’s a harsh way to live.”
I watched Scott’s profile as he maneuvered the road without benefit of streetlights. He drove another mile and turned onto a gravel driveway weaving through more trees. We approached a two-story log cabin, the porch light illuminating its front. Scott parked the car, exited, and retrieved my suitcase from the backseat. I carried the pizza boxes as, in silence, we walked to the house. Scott unlocked and opened the door in with a quick flick of his hand. He reached in, turned on the interior light, and motioned for me to precede him.
The door opened into a great room with a massive fireplace covering most of one wall. Stairs led to a loft. What caught and held my attention, however, was the king sized bed, neatly made with a forest green comforter, dominating the back wall. Near the fireplace sat a recliner with a low stack of books next to it. The bed drew my eyes again. My heart flipped.
Oh, my.
I stood there trying not to look at the bed, but I couldn’t help it. It was so…there and big…and there. What? This house didn’t have a bedroom?
Scott cleared his throat and walked past me. “The kitchen is over here.”
I followed, trying to get images of him and me in that bed out of my brain.
Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set Page 76