by Beth Yarnall
“I used to bring girls up here sometimes.” He pointed to where the bluffs bent back before curving around again. “Right over there is a group of trees with perfect camouflage. A blanket, an illicit bottle of cheap alcohol, and a willing girl in the moonlight is a beautiful thing.”
“Yeah, Susie Philpot swore she saw a shooting star at the exact moment you took her virginity.”
He couldn’t help grinning in surprise. “Oh, yeah?”
“Susie set us all up for disappointment. There were no shooting stars or fireworks when I lost mine.”
“That’s because you didn’t lose it to me,” he joked.
She chuckled. “No, I certainly didn’t. All I got was a big ole that’s it? and a sticky mess to clean up.”
He barked out a laugh that sounded old and little used. She watched him with a strange awed look on her face.
“What?” Self-consciousness made him ask a little too defensively.
“You should laugh more. It completely changes your face. And you get these little laugh lines right here.” She touched a finger to the corner of his eye. “Very sexy, like a movie star.”
“A movie star? I don’t think so. But I’ll take the very sexy part.”
“Your modesty borders on annoying.”
She was smiling up at him and he forgot the cold, forgot the surf pounding the rocks below, and the distant bark of sea lions. Forgot why kissing her was such a bad idea as he leaned forward, his gaze dropping to her mouth. She put a hand on his chest and he thought for a moment she might shove him back. Instead she fisted the lapel of his jacket and pulled him the rest of the way toward her.
“This is probably a bad idea,” he murmured and instantly felt her grip change, pushing him away. The exact opposite of what he wanted. Or maybe the very thing he wanted. Kissing a local girl was probably not the smartest thing he could do right now.
“You’re right.” She leapt up and backed away from him. “I can’t do this.”
He caught himself with a palm on the bench seconds before he face planted. “What the hell just happened?” he said more to himself than to her.
“I have a boyfriend,” she asserted.
“He’s not here now.”
“That’s not… It doesn’t matter. We’re committed.”
“Somebody should be committed and I think it’s me.” Why was he trying to talk her into what he’d just talked her out of? He shook his head. And why couldn’t he keep his big, freaking mouth shut?
She started backing away from him toward the staired path that wound down to town. “I should go.”
“Let me drive you home at least.”
“No need. My house isn’t far.”
He stood and followed her. “Erin. Let me drive you.”
* * *
Erin knew if she stayed one more moment under the moonless sky with Graham Doran she’d do more than temporarily forget she had a boyfriend. She needed to leave. Now.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, scrambling backward.
Her foot caught on a rock. She teetered at the top of the stairs, arms pinwheeling. Time slowed. The sky rushed across her vision. Graham dashed forward. He grabbed her, pulling her from the edge so suddenly her head snapped forward. She gripped him roughly, her heart pounding so hard she couldn’t speak. The sensation of falling stayed with her and she didn’t think she’d be able to stand without him.
“Jesus God,” he breathed, clutching her closer. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Me, too.”
“Erin—”
She cut off his words with the firm press of her lips. His surprised oomph morphed into a low growl as he changed the angle of the kiss, pulling her closer still. His lips were cool from the night air, making his mouth seem even hotter. She wound her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers into his hair. His hand slid down to her backside, bringing her into him. She pressed closer, rocking against him. He felt so good. It all felt so damn good. She’d wanted this from the moment he’d sat down on the bench next to her.
He trailed his lips along her jaw, murmuring words she didn’t understand, but knew the meaning of. In answer, she dragged his mouth back to hers. She felt the brush of his thumb on the underside of her jaw. She was hot from him and cold from the night air and wet where she wanted him. The sensations built, one piling on the other until she was throbbing with need.
He backed her against a tree. Her clothing caught on the rough bark, pinning her between it and him. He was so hot and hard against her. The rain began in fat drops, but she didn’t care. He kept kissing her, his hands moving lazily over her.
Breaking their kiss, his mouth near her ear, he made his offer again, giving it a whole new meaning. “Let me take you home.”
“Yes.”
Lightning flashed, followed by the loud clap of thunder. He gave her a hard kiss and wrapped an arm around her. The clouds opened, unleashing their burden in sheets. Hunching under the onslaught, they ran to Graham’s car, laughing. She was still laughing when Graham deposited her in the seat and ran around the car. He slid in on his side, slamming the door behind him. Their laughter died in the close confines of the car. Rain bulleted the roof, thunder roared overhead.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he asked, a little out of breath.
“What?”
“Kiss you.” His words settled around them, changing the mood in increments.
“No.” Her response was a breath of sound. How would she know? He’d hardly acknowledged her until today and when he did well, she didn’t even think he liked her.
She could just make out the shape of his features in the darkened car, but couldn’t see his eyes. Focusing on his mouth, she watched as they formed the words she half longed for, half dreaded hearing.
“Feels like forever.”
“Your lips are softer than I imagined they’d be,” she quietly confessed.
Holding her hand, he kissed the back of it. This felt too intimate, too much like they were starting something that couldn’t be stopped. She wasn’t free to start up something with Graham or anyone else.
“Can you take me home now?” she asked.
He squeezed her hand, taking her words the wrong way.
“I’m tired,” she added, making her meaning clear. “It’s been a difficult day.”
He took her chin in his hand and turned her toward him. He searched her face for a minute that felt like an hour. She didn’t know what he saw or if he could even see anything at all. Nodding slowly, he released her. He started the engine and shifted into gear, beginning their journey down the hill.
She broke the silence now and then to direct him to her house. He kept his eyes on the road and didn’t comment. Finally he pulled up to the curb of her small Craftsman bungalow and killed the engine.
“Thanks for the ride.” She reached for the door handle.
“I don’t like him.”
“Who?”
“The Jolly Green Grocer.”
“You don’t have to like him.”
“I don’t think you like him either.” He shifted in his seat, angling toward her. “Do you?”
“I like him.” She put as much enthusiasm in her words as she could muster with the feel of Graham’s body still imprinted on hers and his smell wrapped around her.
“Very convincing. Did you know you have a tell?”
“Like in poker?
“Why are you with him if you don’t like him?”
“Thanks again for the ride.”
She made to leave, but he reached across her and clamped his hand over hers. “Answer my question and you can go.”
Pulling her hand out from under his, she pressed back against the seat as far as she could, evading his touch. “Why do you care?”
“Just tell me. What is it, the apron? The commanding way he handles melons?”
“Stop mocking him,” she defended.
He leaned in, his voice dropping to that
seductive growl she had trouble resisting. “Come on, tell me.”
His eyes glinted dark and mesmerizing and once again she found herself falling down his rabbit hole of persuasion. She wanted to tell him about her doubts, her inability to feel anything more than friendship toward Keith. She wanted to move closer to Graham and touch him the way she couldn’t touch Keith. Graham seemed to understand her in a way Keith didn’t. The way Keith couldn’t. Graham was the only other person besides her family who knew about her ability. And she was glad she’d told him about it. He accepted it, accepted her.
“I do like him.” She couldn’t seem to stop defending Keith to Graham. The fault of their relationship lay with her, not Keith. She wanted Graham to understand that. “He’s good to me. We have a nice time together.”
“But?” he prodded.
“But…I just wish I was more attracted to him. You know, physically. He’s handsome. Everyone thinks so.”
He frowned. “I’m still not getting why you’re with him.”
“He coaches Little League. His store donates the food for the spring carnival every year because he arranges it. He’s on the committee to keep San Rey clean. He—”
“Belongs,” Graham finished. “I get it. He’s got what you want.”
“And what is it you think I want?”
“Acceptance by osmosis.”
“It’s not like that.” But it was exactly like that. Being with Keith gave her a credibility she lacked on her own. His acceptance of her should’ve translated to acceptance of town. Should’ve, but didn’t.
He sat back in his seat, suddenly looking tired. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
His abrupt dismissal stung. She should’ve been glad to be away from him and his gaze that saw too much, away from his questions that made her look too closely at her life and the lies she’d told herself trying to reinvent it.
“Thanks again for the ride,” she said, opening the door. “Good-night.”
She climbed out of the car and closed the door behind her without looking back. She could feel his gaze on her all the way up her front steps. He didn’t pull away from the curb until she’d gotten safely inside, lights on, door locked behind her.
It wasn’t until later, just before she drifted off to sleep, that she realized what she’d done by kissing Graham. Keith had never kissed her like that. He never would. She’d never feel—in a thousand kisses with Keith—what she felt in that one kiss with Graham Doran.
7
Erin arrived at the police station promptly at eight only to find Graham hadn’t yet come down from his apartment upstairs. This unfortunate turn of events meant that she’d have to make small talk with Mabel while she waited. Except with Mabel, the talking was never small. It was strained, and stretched more horribly than Mabel’s girdle elastic.
“You know I’m not one to talk,” Mabel was saying, her towering strawberry blond beehive wobbling. “But did you see that new sports car Reverend James bought? If I were Mrs. Reverend James I’d’ve made him turn around and take it right on back to the dealer.” She put her hand to the corner of her coral-painted mouth as an aside. “The way I hear it, the good reverend’s been passing the plate to the Unitarian lady pastor over in Santa Maria. If you know what I mean.”
Erin bit back a groan, turning a polite smile on Mabel. “Did Graham say when he’d be down? I have to get to work.”
The door opened and swung wide, smacking against the wall. Elmer Farnsworth III shuffled over the threshold. “Sorry. Door got away from me.”
Elmer was one more way in which Keith tried and Erin failed him. Keith had thought ahead and hired a lawyer, trying to protect her, but the effort felt like another obligation she owed Keith.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Elmer,” Mabel said as she got up from her desk and pushed the door closed against the wind. “Happens all the time after a storm.”
“I’m here after my client… oh, there you are, Eileen,” Elmer said.
“It’s Erin,” Erin corrected.
“Right. That’s what I said. Point me to the restroom, will ya, Mabel?”
Mabel pointed. “Down the hall to your right.”
As soon as Mabel stepped away from it, the door crashed opened again. Jessica stomped, then wiped her shoes on the doormat before coming inside. “Sorry, Mabel.” She hefted the tray of coffee cups in her hands. “My hands were full. They didn’t have the blueberry muffin you wanted so I got you bran. Hello, Erin. Isn’t Sheriff Doran down yet?”
Mabel closed the door behind Jessica. “No, and I haven’t heard a peep out of him. I was just about to call up.”
“Oh, no. Don’t do that,” Jessica said, setting her burden down on her desk. “I’ll go see if he’s awake.”
As soon as Jessica disappeared from view, Mabel started up again. “That one there.” She gestured toward the direction Jessica had gone. “Is angling to be Mrs. Sheriff Doran. I bet she’s hoping to catch him in the shower or just out of it. That would be a sight, wouldn’t it?”
Erin’s mouth fell open. She’d heard the rumors about Jessica pursuing Graham. As far as she knew they were just that—rumors. Until now.
Mabel blathered on, but Erin’s mind went to what was happening upstairs. Of Graham in the shower. Naked. She lost all track of what Mabel was saying. It wasn’t like Mabel needed an audience anyway.
After last night, Erin knew she was on dangerous ground, imagining Graham without clothes. But the images were so very vivid. And then…boom. She was there. Literally in the shower with Graham. Mabel’s voice was gone, replaced with the sounds of water hitting tile and rushing down the drain. Her consciousness hovered just inside the scene, looking down.
Steam billowed, hazing her view. The scent of shampoo and soap hung in the air. Hanging his head, Graham let the water spill over his back. His dark hair was matted against his skull, water trickling down his face to drip off the clean-shaven cleft in his chin. He looked tired, worn down.
Past or Future?
Erin didn’t even try to keep her gaze from wandering over his still form or from admiring the contours of his body as the water slithered like a loving hand over his flesh. She reached out to touch, her fingers skimming through him. Neither of them was real. They were nothing more than two beams of light passing through one another. But she ran her hands over his image anyway, imagining how his skin would feel, how warm and slick it would be. How it would feel to press her body to his, the slip and slide of skin on skin.
He dipped his head back, letting the water hit his scalp. She traced a finger over the column of his throat, following it with her lips…
A door banged closed, bringing Erin crashing back to the present. She shook her head, trying to clear the images from her brain. Not again. Was her ability even hers to control anymore?
Footsteps thundered on the stairs. Mabel put a hand to her heart, her mouth open mid-harangue. Jessica barreled into the room. A door opened above.
“Don’t ever come up here again!” Graham shouted, punctuating his point by slamming the door.
Jessica skidded to a halt behind Mabel’s chair as though she was hiding behind her mommy.
“What the devil did you do, Jessica?” Mabel asked.
Her chest puffing, Jessica’s lips slowly curved into a smile that matched the wicked look in her eyes. “Answering the age-old question,” she said.
Mabel patted the ample flesh pillowing her chest. “And what in the world would that be? How to scare an old woman half to death?”
Jessica shook her head, her grin growing. “Boxers or briefs?”
“You don’t say?” Mabel craned her neck as though she could see up the stairs for herself. “And?”
“Neither. At least not when he sleeps,” Jessica answered, looking for all the world as though she’d discovered the cure for cancer or something.
Jealousy, hot and seething, burned through Erin. She wanted to smack the superior look off Jessica’s pretty face. If only she could clamp
her hand over Jessica’s mouth to keep her from describing in great detail what Erin had only seen in her vision.
“He has a tattoo,” Jessica said smugly. “On his left shoulder blade. Some kind of Chinese symbol. What I wouldn’t give to trace it with my tongue.” She sighed dramatically.
“Jessica Ann Conway!” Mabel exclaimed, blushing all the way to her white roots. “You naughty thing.”
“Oh, come on, Mabel,” Jessica said, tucking a strand of blond hair behind one ear. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of impure thoughts about our sexy sheriff. I bet Erin has too. Haven’t you?”
Oh, yes. “No.”
Jessica crossed her arms over her chest and gave Erin a mocking look. “Then why are you blushing?”
Erin touched fingertips to her flaming cheek. “I’m not.”
“You’re embarrassing her,” Mabel said. “Besides, what would Erin be doing lusting after the sheriff when she’s got such a handsome boyfriend like Keith?”
“As my grammie says, just because you’ve already ordered dinner doesn’t mean you still can’t look at the menu.” Jessica’s naughty smile flared up again. “And what a fine menu it is. I’ll take one of everything.”
“Jessica!” Mabel admonished.
“Did Graham say when he’d be down?” Erin asked, trying to change the subject.
Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Graham? Don’t you mean Sheriff Doran?”
The door down the hall opened and Elmer hobbled into view, his cane thumping against the wood floor. “I wouldn’t go in there for a while if I was you,” he said, waving a hand in front of his face.
Jessica settled at her desk with a sigh. “If only he was a back sleeper. I would’ve gotten to see all the goods.”
“Your mother would box your ears if she heard you talking about the sheriff like that,” Mabel said without any heat, a rosy glow tinting her cheeks. “You didn’t happen to take a picture with your phone, did you?”
“Mabel!” Jessica echoed Mabel’s tone. “I’m shocked!” She snapped her fingers. “Wish I’d thought of it.”
Elmer finally made it across the room and sat down next to Erin. “I used to give the ladies a time myself when I was the sheriff’s age. That is, until Ruth snared me in her net. God rest her.”