Torrid Teasers Volume 22

by Jamie Hill

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  Whiskey Creek Press

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Copyright ©2007 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  * * *

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

  * * *

  TORRID TEASERS

  VOLUME 22:

  SHADES OF GRAY & WINDFALL

  by

  Jamie Hill

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Published by

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  Whiskey Creek Press

  PO Box 51052

  Casper, WY 82605-1052

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Copyright ©

  2007 by Jamie Hill

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-59374-782-4

  Credits

  Cover Artist: ESCORPIO

  Editor: Chere Gruver

  Printed in the United States of America

  WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

  FAR FROM ORDINARY

  "A very engrossing read of a young man's journey of discovery, of himself and the paranormal world. The character pushes a few limits and drags the reader along on an unforgettable journey."

  ~ 4 Hearts, Di at Love Romances and More

  "This was a scorching story with everything set on high. It also has a terrific twist that will have you re-reading it again."

  ~ 4 Angels from Susan T., Fallen Angel Reviews

  WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT

  CANDY CANE KISSES

  "Christmas Candy Anthology places a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘A hard candy Christmas'. With plenty of peppermint sticks, sugar coated nut balls and cream filled bon-bons there is a story here for you whether your preference is funny, romantic, naughty or heartwarming. You will want to order copies for Christmas gifts once you have read Christmas Candy Anthology."

  ~ 4 Lips, Susan, TwoLips Reviews

  Dedication

  To my buddy and writing partner, author Skyler Grey.

  Thanks for your friendship and encouragement!

  SHADES OF GRAY

  by

  Jamie Hill

  It was a dark and stormy night. Sarah Carlson chuckled at the thought as she drove down the highway. Scary stories often started like that, but this was the first night she ever remembered feeling that way. Night had fallen and it was pitch black outside, except for the streaks of lightening that randomly lit the sky.

  A loud clap of thunder rattled the car, and from the backseat Sarah heard, “Boom!"

  "That's right, big boom,” she said, and turned to flash a quick smile at her two year old son, Davey.

  He was fastened securely in his car seat, with a toy truck in each hand. “Boom!” he repeated, and crashed the trucks into each other.

  "You're not a bit scared, are you?” She wondered why she felt so jumpy. It wasn't just the darkness, or the threat of the oncoming storm. It felt as if the atmosphere was electrically charged and Sarah was wired into it.

  She hoped to get an earlier start to their lake cabin, but one phone call after another kept her home longer than she planned. Now she was driving in the dark with rain pelting her windshield. “We're almost there,” she told Davey, reassuring herself as well.

  A streak of lightening flashed and Sarah saw a deer in the road ahead. “Shit!” She slammed on the brakes and swerved to the shoulder to avoid contact. The deer galloped off and Sarah clung to her steering wheel, breathing deeply. She glanced back at Davey and asked him, “You okay?"

  "Horsie!” He clapped his hands, dropping the trucks.

  "That was a deer, sweetie. Can you say deer?"

  "Deer,” Davey repeated and started fussing for his trucks.

  "All right.” Sarah figured since she was stopped anyway, she could take a minute to retrieve the dropped toys. She twisted around to the backseat but still couldn't reach them. Muttering to herself as she got out of the car, Sarah dove into the backseat to avoid as much of the rain as possible. “Here you go.” She picked up the trucks and handed them to her son. “I hope you realize what a nice mommy you have."

  His smile was all the thanks she needed, and Sarah smiled back as she hopped out of the car. Standing up, she came face to face with a man in a dark black rain poncho. Sarah jumped and squealed, “What the—” as the man held his hands up innocently.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” He smiled from under the hood. “First the deer, and now me."

  Sarah looked at him suspiciously and inched toward her door. “No, it's okay. The weather's making me a little nervous, is all. We're late meeting my husband. He's probably on his way here looking for us."

  "Get back in, please, you're getting soaked.” He motioned toward the car and took a step away, probably so she would feel more secure, she deduced.

  "Thanks.” Sarah got in and quickly locked her doors. She started up the car and unrolled her window an inch.

  The man took one step closer but Sarah didn't feel threatened. She thought he had kind blue eyes and a very nice smile. “What are you doing out on a night like this?"

  "I'm hitchhiking cross-country. I should have stopped at that last town, but I thought the rain might hold off a while. I guess I haven't got Kansas weather figured out yet."

  Sarah laughed. “Don't bother with that. But you are out of luck, there's nothing up this way for miles."

  He smiled again and tightened his rain poncho around him. “Guess I'm in for a wet night then."

  Sarah felt a flash of guilt, but knew she couldn't invite this stranger into her car. Her husband, Cliff, would have a fit. And with Davey, well, Sarah just couldn't take any chances. She looked at the man and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I can't help you."

  He waved a hand. “No problem. I've been out in worse. Have a nice night.” He started walking and Sarah sat and thought for a moment. A flash of lightening sparked in front of them and she saw the stranger hesitate for a second before continuing his journey. She debated what to do, and finally made a decision she thought was a good compromise.

  She pulled the car even with the man, and he looked at her. Sarah rolled her window down an inch and said, “My husband would have a fit if I gave you a ride, so I'm afraid I really can't. But we do have a garage near our cabin where you could spend the night, if you don't mind roughing it."

  He smiled widely at her. “Any place that's dry, I can throw my bedroll out, and I'll be happy as a clam."

  "It's about half a mile down this road, and then another half a mile on the road to our place. You'll have to walk, but if you want to use the garage, you're welcome."

  "No problem,” he agreed.

  She motioned to the road. “Keep going until you see the little white sign that says Carlson. Turn right and keep walking until you see the house and garage. I'll have my husband open the garage for you."

  He offered her a little salute and nodded. “Much obliged, ma'am."

  Sa
rah felt better as she drove off. She'd have time to get Davey safely tucked away in the cabin and retrieve the gun Cliff kept locked up there. She wished Cliff actually was there waiting for them, but he was killed in a traffic accident when Davey was a baby. This stranger didn't have to know that, she decided.

  The cabin was tight and secure, just like she left it a couple weeks earlier. Sarah and Cliff had loved coming out here on weekends to fish, swim and get away from it all. They didn't have a TV, and no phone service other than the cell phones they carried with them. Now that it was just Sarah and Davey, she still enjoyed the retreat and wanted their son to grow up loving the same things his father had.

  She parked in front of the cabin and dashed to the front door to unlock it. Sarah went back for Davey and threw her jacket over him, carrying him inside. “Wait here while I get the rest of our things.” She made two more quick trips to bring in food and their small suitcases.

  "Here we go,” she said, setting everything inside and closing, then locking the door. “Ooh, I need to turn the heat up. Then maybe I'll build a fire in the fireplace.” She turned on a few lights and cranked the thermostat up to seventy. “Everything looks fine,” Sarah commented, speaking to herself more than Davey.

  She got the lockbox from the top shelf of her bedroom closet and used her key to open it. Cliff's service revolver from when he was a deputy sheriff was inside, and Sarah brought it out. Cliff taught her to shoot after they were first married, and told her she was a natural at it. Sarah stuck the gun in her coat pocket, hoping as she always did that she'd never have to put that knowledge to use.

  "Stay here, buddy, I'll be right back.” Sarah gave Davey a kiss on the top of the head and left him in the house while she ran out to unlock the garage. If the stranger walked fast, he could be here anytime, and she didn't want to come face to face with him. Even if he had a nice face. Then she laughed softly. Cliff had been gone almost two years now, and Sarah was noticing the faces—and other attributes—of men more and more these days.

  She unlocked the garage and left one of the double doors ajar. She jogged back to the cabin and was inside looking out the window before she saw sign any signs of her visitor.

  He walked up the driveway, not seeming to be in any particular hurry. He opened the garage door and glanced up to the cabin. Sarah didn't know if he could see her or not, but he waved toward the window and she quickly closed the curtain.

  She fed Davey before they left home and he was ready for bed. Sarah changed him and tucked him in, with lots of hugs and kisses and whispered giggles. He was a good child, had been the perfect baby, and never gave her a moment's grief. She watched him from the doorway as he snuggled into his bed with his favorite stuffed moose, a gift from his daddy, clutched to his side.

  Sarah sighed as she walked down the hallway and back into the front room. She picked up one of the many pictures of Cliff that graced the shelf on the wall, and smiled. He looked so handsome in his deputy uniform. One night before they were married, he followed her as she walked home from work, and used his lights and sirens to get her attention. He pretended to arrest her on a solicitation charge, and they drove to a secluded spot and had sex right there in the squad car. Sarah grinned at the memory, knowing Cliff's father—the sheriff—would not be amused. It was a good memory for her, though. Most all of her memories of Cliff were good ones, especially the sexy ones. She and Cliff never had any problems in that department.

  Setting the picture back on the shelf, Sarah lit a fire in the fireplace and found herself wandering to the window and peeking out again. Why was it when she found herself thinking about sex, her mind went so quickly to the stranger in her garage? She didn't really know how cute he was under that big rain poncho. Just because he seemed to have a nice face ... Sarah drew back the curtain and looked for him.

  He wasn't hard to find. One of the garage doors was wide open and she had a full view of her guest. He had a flashlight or lantern of some type, so the garage was illuminated. She could see his bedroll spread out on one side, and a knapsack on the other. He had strung a makeshift clothesline and was drying some of his clothes. Sarah watched as he peeled off his shirt and hung it over the line next to his socks. It was only thirty yards or so to the garage, and her question was quickly answered. He was very cute, with curly brown hair and six-pack abs that looked like he did nothing but work out all day.

  She closed the curtain swiftly, not wanting to invade his privacy. She needed to eat, Sarah decided, and get her mind on other things. She made beef stew at home and brought some of it with her for her dinner, so all she had to do was heat it up, and she proceeded to do that. Her mind kept wandering to the man outside, and before she sat down to eat, she went to peek at him one more time.

  He was stretched out on his bedroll, leaning up on his arm, playing a harmonica. Sarah opened the window a crack so she could hear his music. It was beautiful and haunting, a tune she didn't recognize. Sarah liked a man with an appreciation for music. She thought she might like this man, and wondered, how crazy is that?

  Then she wondered if he had food, and thought he'd probably be eating right now if he did. She had plenty of stew; maybe she could take him some. She could set it on the porch and he could come up and get it.

  Sarah prepared a big covered bowl of stew, some bread, and fruit, and put it all in a bag because of the rain. She took it out to the front porch and set it on the table out there.

  He stopped playing and looked at her.

  "My husband thought you might be hungry!” she called to him.

  "Must admit, I am.” He sat up.

  "Here you go then. I hope you enjoy it.” Sarah turned to go into the house.

  "Thank you ma'am,” he called back.

  She stopped and looked at him. “Sarah,” she said. “My name is Sarah."

  He stood up and smiled. “Reid Walker. Pleasure to meet you, Sarah."

  "Good night, Reid.” She went inside and stood at the window, watching as he threw his rain poncho over his head and made a dash for the porch. He still wore nothing but jeans—tight jeans—and it was pretty obvious to Sarah that he had no weapons hidden on him.

  He stopped on the porch, lifted the bag, and gave her another wave and a smile.

  Something about his bright blue eyes fascinated her, and before Sarah could stop to think, she had opened the door and was face to face with him. “It's probably warmer in here than it is in that old garage."

  "I would imagine so,” he agreed, but didn't move.

  Sarah liked that about him. He wasn't aggressive at all, and that somehow made her feel safe. “My husband is putting our son to bed. Would you like to come in and eat, and get warm?"

  He glanced down at himself. “I'm not exactly dressed for visiting."

  "You look fine.” Sarah eyed his chest and forced herself to look away quickly. She hoped he couldn't tell what she was really thinking, that he looked damned good.

  "If you're sure.” He shook the wet poncho off and left it on the porch.

  She stepped aside to allow him in and closed the door behind him. “Let me get you a plate.” Sarah took the bag from his hand. “Have seat by the fire, if you like."

  "Thanks.” He glanced around, and when Sarah returned with their food, he was looking at the pictures on the shelf. “Your husband?” He pointed to the picture of Cliff in uniform.

  "Yes,” she said, and smiled.

  "He's a police officer?"

  Sarah set the tray down on the coffee table and dragged a couple chairs in front of the fireplace. “Sort of, we don't call them police in this county. He was a deputy sheriff."

  Reid sat across from her. “Was?"

  "Hmmm?” She handed him a bowl of stew.

  "You said was. He was a deputy sheriff."

  "Oh.” Sarah blushed. She was such a lousy liar. “Just a slip."

  Reid took a bite of the stew and let his eyes roll back in his head. “This is the best thing I've tasted in weeks. You can't believe how tired
a person gets of diner food and greasy spoons."

  "I'll bet.” Sarah chuckled, pleased at the compliment. Cliff always said she was a good cook, but it had been a long time since she'd heard it.

  "So he's not eating?” Reid glanced down the hall.

  "Hmmm?” Sarah asked again, and then remembered the lie she was supposed to be keeping up. “Oh, Cliff and Davey ate before we left home. We like to come up here on the weekends to fish and get away from it all."

  Reid settled back in his chair and smiled at her thoughtfully. “You don't look like the fishing type."

  "You got me there,” Sarah agreed. “I do it for Davey. But I'd rather lie on the beach or in the boat sunbathing."

  "You have a boat?” he asked casually.

  "Yeah, there's a dock down by the water. Tuttle Creek is a beautiful lake, if you know the right spots."

  He smiled at her. “I'd love to see those spots sometime."

  Sarah felt flushed on the inside as she recalled making love with Cliff on various beaches, and even in their boat. But right now, the face she was picturing there was not that of her late husband, but of the man sitting in front of her. She shivered and tried to concentrate on finishing her dinner.

  "So you live around here, and come to the lake on the weekends?” Reid asked.

  "Yeah.” Sarah shoved her bowl back on the tray. She couldn't eat anymore. “What about you? Where do you live?"

  He grinned and shrugged. “Wherever I drop my bedroll, I guess."

  "You have to live somewhere."

  "Well, I was born and raised in California. It's a beautiful place, but I always felt like there had to be something more. I tried a few different jobs, went to school awhile, but nothing ever clicked. When I turned twenty-five, I came into some family money, so I decided to take off and discover America. It's been a real eye-opener."

  "I can't imagine living that way,” Sarah told him.

  "It's quite freeing, not having to worry about possessions and stuff. I have a few things I carry on my back, and that's it."