A Kiss in the Sunlight

by Marie Patrick

  She’d been wrong.

  Heavy drops thundered on the roof and water sluiced down rainspouts, flowing into the road. In a matter of moments, the sides of the street just below the sidewalk became rivers of swirling, muddy water. For the most part, she could stay on the raised wooden walkways beneath the shelter of the awnings over the storefronts, but there were several side streets between here and the hotel she’d have to cross. There would be mud, she was certain, ankle-grabbing, shoe-sucking muck.

  Wonderful!

  She stood at the window, watching the downpour and debating her options. She could stay here inside the bakery and wait out the storm, which may last only a few minutes or several hours, or she could make a mad dash for it. She didn’t mind getting wet. That wasn’t it. The problem was her propensity for clumsiness. Like ink, mud had a way of finding her, and on more than one occasion, she’d ended up covered from head to toe, along with anyone who tried to help her.

  “Mrs. Trumble, do you have an umbrella I might borrow?”

  The woman shook her head as she stepped from behind the glass-fronted counter and joined her at the window. “I’m afraid not, dear. I left mine at home, too.” She sighed as she stared at the road. “Oh my, it is coming down, isn’t it?”

  Ryleigh gave her a frown. “Yes, it is.” She tied the sashes to her hat tighter beneath her chin, picked up the paper bag with the treats and paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Well, I suppose there’s no help for it, is there?”

  The baker shook her head and grinned. “I suppose not.”

  She opened the door and stepped through. The wind buffeted her and brought a fine mist with it, but so far, standing beneath the shelter of the awning, she remained relatively dry. She took off at a quick clip and came to the end of the raised sidewalk in short order. Water swirled, covering the bottom step, but there was no way of knowing how deep it really was. Holding the paper bag in one hand, and pulling up her skirts with the other, she jumped.

  For once, coordination was with her, and she landed on her feet, clearing the rushing water by at least a foot, only to realize that was only part of her problem. In an instant, her hat, while providing adequate protection from the sun, could not withstand the power of the deluge coming from above. It lay wilted against her head and her hair hung down in wet ringlets. Her clothes were soaked through, and the paper bag with the confections? Falling apart, but at least she made it to the next set of steps and raised sidewalk without tripping and falling.

  She scurried along, her pace quick, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet and came to the end of the walkway. She didn’t pass anyone. Most people had opted to stay inside. Obviously, they were smarter than she was at the moment.

  Again, swirling water lapped at the stairs. It didn’t look too deep, but it was wider than the last river of brown she’d jumped.

  Ryleigh stood beneath the awning and considered her options once again. She could go back the way she’d come, continue on to the hotel, or stay right where she was, cold and soaked through to the bone. None of them were good. She could slip into one of the businesses along the street, but that still left her wet, starting to shiver, and dependent upon someone’s hospitality. Who knew how long the deluge would continue?

  She took a deep breath and glanced at the other side of the street. The sheriff’s office was right across from her. Welcoming light glowed from the window. If she could jump this river of muddy water, she could be safe and warm within minutes. And maybe she could see Teague. The thought appealed to her. She hadn’t seen him since she’d asked him about Kieran three days ago. Had he been avoiding her? Was he still upset? Or had he, once again, forgiven her?

  No time like the present to find out.

  She stepped down to the second riser of the stairs, took a deep breath, and started to jump.

  “Ryleigh!”

  She looked up at the sound of her name and lost her momentum. Instead of clearing the rushing torrent turning the street into a river, she landed in the middle, her feet quickly sinking into the mud below the water. Liquid sloshed into her ankle high boots and swirled around her skirts up to her calves. “Goodness!”

  She tried to pull her feet loose, one at a time, but only succeeded in losing her footing entirely. With a startled shout of surprise, she fell backward into the muck, knees bent, her shoes, with her feet still in them, stuck in the mud. Her head went beneath the swirl of water. She dug her elbows in the muck and came up sputtering, the water now lapping at her neck and chin.

  Teague strode across the street, sloshing against the flow up to his calves. Shotgun followed, then passed him, running through the rain and puddles as if he was born to it. He approached Ryleigh and took a big swipe at her face with his tongue, then proceeded to dance around her, splashing water, oblivious to the fact she might not want to get any wetter than she was.

  “Shotgun! Go on!” Ryleigh pushed at the dog then glanced up. Teague was much closer now . . . and drenched, like she was, despite the umbrella over his head. Yes, it protected him from the downpour coming down, but did little to ward off the wind-born droplets soaking him from all sides.

  “Stay where you are.”

  “Where am I going to go?” she asked with a laugh. “I’m stuck!”

  “I can see that!” He folded up the umbrella he carried and tossed it aside. The dog dutifully grabbed it in his mouth and ran up the steps to wait under the protection of the awning. She glanced at the dog and shook her head. Was Shotgun smiling? It was difficult to tell with the umbrella in his mouth.

  “Grab my hand.” Teague ordered as he stood over her, water swirling around his boots and trousers up to his calves.

  Ryleigh did as she was told and clutched at his hand with both of hers. Together, they managed to bring her to a standing position, but that was only part of the problem.

  “I’m still stuck! My shoes—!”

  “Kick them off.”

  Rain poured from the heavens and ran down her face as she stared at him. Her hat was already ruined, and she might never be able to get her gown clean of the mud and muck, and yet, the whole situation struck her as comical. There was nothing to do but laugh. “I can’t. They’re laced tight up to my ankles.”

  “All right, let’s try to get you unstuck. Hold onto to my shoulders.” He bent over, grabbed at her ankle, and yanked. Nothing happened. He tried again. Her foot moved a little, and she wiggled it, eventually succeeding in pulling it out of the muck.

  “Now for the other foot.” Once again, he grabbed her ankle and tried to lift her foot out of the mud while she held onto his shoulders.

  “Goodness! This is so embarrassing,” she whispered, mortified, as her focus switched from Teague’s muscled back to the patrons of the Calico Lady saloon who’d come outside to witness the spectacle she’d made of herself. A flush burned her face despite the chill of the rain, but still she laughed. How could she not? It was amusing, if not downright hilarious. There they were standing in the street, both she and Teague up to almost their knees in swirling brown water . . . right in front of the plate glass window of the Calico Lady saloon. Of course.

  Hiram Burke, owner of the bar, stood beneath the awning, held up a beer, and asked, “Need a hand there, Sheriff?”

  “You feel like getting wet, Hy?” Teague called over his shoulder as he yanked at her foot again with much more force than the first time.

  Her foot slipped from the mud with a sucking sound so quickly, it knocked them both off balance and for the second time since she’d met him, he was on the ground again, and she was on top of him. The impact knocked his hat from his head. It floated down the street toward the end of town. By tomorrow, it would be washed up somewhere along the riverbank. The sweet treats she had purchased didn’t survive her tumble, either. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Look what I’ve done!”

  Instead of being angry, Teague laughed. “Ah, a little mud never hurt anyone.” He scrambled to his feet and helped her up. “The house is closer than the hotel.
We can clean up and dry off there.” Without waiting for her agreement, he grabbed her hand, then whistled for the dog. “Come on.” He ran down the street like a kid who suddenly found himself free, pulling her along behind him, her feet sloshing inside her shoes. Shotgun followed behind, the umbrella still in his mouth.

  They cut through Mr. Shaunessy’s backyard and gained the back porch of Teague’s house. He guided to her an outside chair then bent down in front of her. Ryleigh gasped as he lifted the hem of her wet skirt, untied the laces of her boot, and slipped it from her foot, then reached farther along her leg, plucked at the ribbon holding her stocking in place, and rolled it down her leg. Her eyes widened and her heart thumped in her chest, and it had less to do with their mad dash to his house and more to do with the trail of heat his fingers left in their wake. He repeated the process with her other foot then placed her ankle high shoes to the side atop a small rug where they could dry, then took her stockings and hung them over the railing of the porch.

  The dog took that opportunity to drop the umbrella at her feet, then shook, spreading droplets of water in her direction. “Thank you, Shotgun! I think.”

  If dogs could smile, then he certainly did, not at all concerned by her tone of voice or the fact he’d got her wetter. His ears twitched, his eyebrows seemed to wiggle, and his tail was in constant motion, swaying back and forth, spreading more rainwater. At least it wasn’t muddy. In fact, the dash through the downpour had rinsed most of the mud away.

  “Over there, Shotgun.” Teague pointed to a thick rug on the other side of the back door. The mutt padded to his spot, turned three times, and laid down, his muzzle resting on his paws. He let out a long sigh, but his gaze was on his master, and his eyebrows waggled a little more.

  Ryleigh let out a chuckle. She could just imagine what was going through the dog’s head, but the chuckle died in her throat when she turned her head and caught Teague just watching her.

  There was a rueful smile on his face, and he tilted his head then reached for her hat. He carefully untied the ribbons and pulled it from her head, then studied the water drenched straw. “I’m afraid there’s no hope for this.”

  Ryleigh looked at the hat and sighed. “It was my favorite.”

  “I’ll get you a new one. I’m sure Bethany has something similar.”

  She nodded, unable to find her voice. He was being so kind, so solicitous, and despite her wet, cold clothes, she felt a flicker of warmth.

  He leaned against the side of the house and pulled off his boots then set them on the rug next to hers before peeling thick, woolen socks from his feet. Those he placed next to her stockings. There was something extraordinary about seeing their clothing side by side, and that flicker of warmth burst into flame.

  The house was empty when Teague opened the door and invited her into the kitchen. The aroma of fresh baked bread hung in the air. “Where are Desi Lyn and Mrs. Calvin?”

  “Mrs. Calvin took her to her quilting group at the town hall. She’s learning how to sew, but I suspect she’s not doing much sewing at all. She’s probably playing with the other children.” He shrugged out of his vest as he spoke and hung the garment over one of the chairs at the table.

  “Oh.” She smiled. The thought of being alone with him thrilled her right down to her bare toes.

  He hurried down the hall, unbuckling his gun belt and hanging it on a hook as he went, and returned in minutes with two towels. He handed one to her then proceeded to use his to start patting her hair dry. “You look―”

  “Like a drowned puppy?”

  “Beautiful,” he said as if she hadn’t interrupted him, then lowered his head and took possession of her mouth, his lips sliding over hers in a kiss so intoxicating, Ryleigh had to wrap her arms around his neck so she wouldn’t melt. Her tummy tightened and quivered as she pulled away to gaze into his face. Was this the moment she’d been waiting for? The one she’d been dreaming about since that day at the river?

  “Now?” she whispered and touched her lips to his once more.

  “What?”

  It took a moment before the color of his eyes slowly darkened to match the storm clouds outside, and a playful smile spread across his face. “You are a bold one.” He brought his mouth down to hers, kissing her deeply, his tongue thrusting between her lips to taste her. At the same time, his fingers found the buttons of her dress and slipped them through the corresponding holes from the high neck to below her waist. He spread the material, then pushed the garment from her shoulders, momentarily trapping her arms before he freed her.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured again as his gaze swept over her pale skin and embroidered pink and white corset cover before he pushed the gown from her hips. The dress puddled around her feet, and she stepped out of it to stand before him in petticoats that matched her corset cover.

  He slung the gown over the back of a chair and then his gaze swept over her again, stopping on her face, his eyes boring into hers. “Are you certain, Ryleigh? Is this what you want?”

  Though frightened and nervous, she was never so sure of anything in her limited experience. She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak, afraid it would tremble and make him stop.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered against her ear. Shivers raced down her spine and settled in her belly. In the next moment, she let out a startled gasp as he scooped her into his arms. That had never happened before either, and for the first time in her life, she felt light and tiny instead of tall and awkward.

  Raindrops plunked against the windows and pelted the roof as he carried her to his room on the second floor and kicked the door open with his foot. He set her down on her own two feet by the big, four-poster bed, then began to unbutton her corset cover, spreading the fabric with his warm fingers while his mouth on her lips played havoc with her senses. Excitement skittered through her, making her heart thump against her ribcage.

  “You have too many clothes on,” he groaned as he kissed her neck and slid the thin straps of the corset cover over her shoulders and down her arms. The garment landed with a soft whoosh on the floor at her feet.

  His fingers found the buttons of her petticoat with unerring skill, and that, too, fell to the floor in a puddle of white lace and thin lawn. “I can help,” she whispered, embarrassment making her face grow hot. No one had undressed her for years, not even her mother, after she’d turned fourteen and modesty outranked need. She purposely acquired clothing that did not require a maid, though she’d been raised with them.

  He studied her, his eyes crinkling at the corners, then shook his head, his mouth stretching into an impish grin. “I’d rather undress you myself,” he kissed her shoulder, “peel every garment from your body,” he kissed her neck where her pulse beat, “one by one.”

  Ryleigh sucked in her breath and closed her eyes as his mouth descended on hers once more, driving all thought of assisting him from her head.

  He chuckled as he reached behind her, those talented fingers of his untying the bow of her corset laces and pulling at the strings. The restricting garment released, enough for him to unhook the front. It fell to the floor atop her petticoats, a bright splash of violet amid the white and pink, leaving her in just a short chemise and pantalets.

  “You are permitted to touch me, you know.” He chuckled as he took her hand and kissed her fingertips then ran his tongue over her palm down to her wrist, leaving streaks of fire on her skin and a weakness in her knees. Who would have thought the inside of her wrist was that sensitive? “And I wish you would.”

  She needed no second urging, but her fingers wouldn’t work right, and she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. It took several tries before she could get the garment undone and slip it from his broad shoulders. The shirt joined her clothing at her feet, and she feasted her eyes on his chest and the light dusting of dark hair covering it. “Can I kiss you as well?” She spoke with her lips against his hot skin.

  “Of course.” His voice was tight and hoarse, and his muscles stiffen
ed as he held her.

  She didn’t know what possessed her or even why she did it, but she drew his nipple into her mouth, as he had done to her by the riverside, and was rewarded with the same response. He sucked in his breath and let out a sigh. That response not only heightened her own excitement but gave her silent permission to do it again. She swirled her tongue around the hard nub and smiled as he drew in his breath, then she kissed her way up to his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, rose up on her toes, and took possession of his mouth just as he had shown her, darting her tongue over and around his.

  She felt his fingers fumbling at the neckline of her chemise and broke the kiss, removing her arms from around his neck and backing up a step to grant him full access.

  “So many buttons,” he whispered as he finished his task and pushed the edges away, his hands sweeping over her breasts as he did so. Desire raced through her, touching her deeply, right down to her core. Her belly no longer quivered. Instead, heaviness built, encompassing her tummy as well as her sex as he dipped his head and tongued a nipple through the sheer material of her shift. Ryleigh sucked in her breath and grabbed his head, bringing him closer.

  He chuckled, and the vibration tickled her as he hefted her breasts in both hands and pulled her nipple into his mouth through the cloth, his tongue dancing on the hard peak. He released her breasts from his light grasp and moved his hands over her body, touching her in places she’d never been touched, over the fine fabric of her chemise before his fingers found the hem at her thighs. He slowly inched the material upward, the caress so light but so hot, her knees weakened and the heaviness in her belly grew. He said nothing as he lifted the garment up her body and over her head, adding it to the pile of clothes between them before his mouth lowered to her now bare breasts.

  Ryleigh let out her breath and dug her fingers into his shoulders as waves of delicious pleasure washed through her.

  He pulled the drawstring of her pantalets, then spread the gathers and pushed the light, cotton garment to the floor. He took a step back and simply gazed at her, his eyes going from the top of her head to her toes then back before settling on her face.