The fact that this book is still relevant 172 years later is amazing. Imagine that? A novel about a woman being admired for her wit and honesty over her looks, as well as navigating through the muddy waters of a relationship with a prominent man who thinks he can deceive a woman into loving him, still being relevant…
HA. Just kidding, that will always be relevant.
Closing the book, I stare off at nothing in particular. Maybe I shouldn’t read such a thought-provoking book right now. I’m already in a state of utter confusion and am walking dangerously close to the line, where if crossed, there would be no returning.
Standing, I walk over to the bookshelf and put Jane Eyre back where she belongs. Maybe next time I decide to read her, I won’t be such a fucking mess in the head.
My fingers brush along the spines of the beautiful books until I come across a little one tucked between two larger ones. Huh. Pulling it out, a slow smile forms as I read the name on the cover.
It would seem that Sheriff Taylor has a thing for love poetry. Specifically, Pablo Neruda poetry. This man just keeps surprising me. And everything I learn, I like.
Damn it!
But I love Pablo Neruda. So I take it with me over to the windows, and look out at the snow that blankets everything in over three feet of blinding white beauty. The bare trees are shadowed with snow on their branches, while the tall pine trees are bending under the weight of it. It’s all so picture perfect, like the inside of a snow globe after shaking it, and the glitter settles over the scene.
There’s no one walking around, and there’s no cars on the road–there’s nothing. Everyone is safe in their houses with fireplaces, candles, books, and maybe a loved one to pass the time with.
A snow storm like this forces us to stop and step back. To live simply. No better excuse to do nothing when you physically can’t leave the house.
Walking back to the couch, I snuggle up with a blanket and open to a random page in Neruda’s Love Poems book.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
Reading from the middle of “If You Forget Me,” I’m struck by how it hits me. Hard.
If it were true, then what I feel for Ryan is reflected in him as well. Our fires would burn together.
I don’t know how he feels, though.
He touches me like I’m his, and kisses me like he craves the taste of my lips.
Our fires might burn for one another, but maybe we’re just too consumed by the now to see past the flames.
I let the pages slip through my fingers and look down at the page they landed on–the beginning of “Night on the Island.”
All night I have slept with you
next to the sea, on the island.
Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and
sleep,
between fire and water.
Resting my head back, I close my eyes and toss the book to the other side of the couch. I definitely shouldn’t have picked up Pablo Neruda either.
All I can think of is Ryan and I laying together after he’s taken me, and in that dream-like state afterwards, feeling connected to him in a way that doesn’t compare to anything else–between fire and water.
Keeping my eyes closed, I hunker down into the cushions and wrap the blanket tight around my shoulders, letting myself drift off to sleep with thoughts of Ryan and me–together, burning, loving, being.
∞∞∞
With a deep breath in, my eyes open to a brightly lit room. Squinting, I blink rapidly to adjust to the assaulting light. Why is it so freaking bright in here?
I scan the room, and then realize where the light is coming from. I sit up so fast my head spins, but I don’t care. The electricity is back! The lamps that were on when the power went out shine like beacons of both freedom and the end.
The freedom to shower with hot water, charge my phone, watch TV, drink coffee, and eat food. But it also marks the end of this whole arrangement. I don’t have a reason to stay.
Well, I have every reason to want to stay, but no reason that forces me to.
Yawning, I make my way upstairs and into my room. A few seconds after plugging my phone in and turning it on, a flood of messages blows up my screen.
Shit. Most are from the group chat, but there are some from Ally before her phone died, and then a couple from my mom.
Sighing, I throw myself on the bed and type out what feels like a blanket answer for all the inquiries in our group chat.
Sorry, guys. The power only just came back on and I plugged my phone in. Thanks for blowing that shit up. Anyway, I’m not really ready to talk about everything, but just know I’m sorry for before. I’m just feeling all mixed up and confused, but I have a date with Ryan tonight. And as excited as I am, I’m nervous.
After pressing send, I call my mom, and she picks up on the third ring. “Hi, honey,” her warm voice greets.
“Hey, mom. How are you?”
“I’m concerned about you, Ashley. You haven’t answered any of my messages in days. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. A blizzard hit, and the power went out a few days ago, and so my phone was dead.”
“Oh my God, Ashley!” She gasps. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. I’ve been with Ally and Jake this whole time, so we all survived together.” I chuckle, trying to pass off that lie to a woman who used to always know when I was deceiving her.
“Oh, good, good.” She sighs, and I can hear the relief in her voice.
“But it stopped this morning, and the power just came back on, so I’ll just be a few more days probably. I want to make sure the roads are clear before trying to come home.”
“Don’t rush, honey. Please, just be safe. Did you call work?”
Oh, shit. I forgot I didn’t tell her that I quit. “Yeah, they’re fine. It’s not like I can magically appear for a shift or anything.”
“Just checking.”
“I know, sorry. I’m just rethinking a few things, and my job there is one of them.”
“You’ll find what you need, honey. I know you will.”
“Thanks, mom.” I don’t think she realizes how much I needed her to say that to me. “I’ll call you when I know more.”
“Just be safe, and don’t take any unnecessary risks.” With the slight tremble in her voice, I know she’s thinking about my dad. She doesn’t want to lose me like she did him. I get it, but living with extreme caution isn’t really living.
“Of course not, mom. I’ll be good. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Hanging up, I heave a sigh of relief. Talking with her always leaves me feeling a little less like myself. I still feel like I’m walking on eggshells with her, even eight years later. I’ve seen her slowly coming back to life this past year when I moved back home, but she still has a long way to go. And I know she loves having me living with her, but I won’t be there forever.
Chapter 18
After enjoying a steaming hot shower for what seems like the first time in weeks, I wrap myself in a soft fluffy towel and open my suitcases on the floor. I need an outfit for my date, but I don’t know what to wear. It’s not like I packed a bunch of dating clothes for my trip.
Pulling out all of my best options, I lay them on the bed. I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing, but considering there’s three feet of snow outside, I should probably dress accordingly.
So that obviously means my cute snow boots, for sure. They’re white with a fur lining and trim, and pom
poms on the laces. I freaking love them!
And with that decided, the rest is obvious. I go with leather leggings, a black long sleeve top, and my white faux fur vest, which I can’t help but rub against my face. Oh my God, it’s so freaking soft! Maybe Ryan will enjoy petting me.
HA! And I don’t just mean my vest.
Smiling, I drop my towel and put on a sexy bra and panty set–a black lace bra with leather trim and a matching black lace thong. I know Ryan will love seeing me like this later.
Sitting at the desk near the window, I look out at the winter wonderland as I do my makeup, and then head into the bathroom to dry my hair. I leave it wild and curly to go with my sensual makeup–a sexy smoky eye, and a bold red lip. I want him mesmerized, and thinking about kissing me all night.
Walking around his house in lingerie makes me feel a little rebellious and naughty. Biting my lip, I grab my phone off the bed and decide to play with Ryan like he did to me.
Hey, sheriff. I’m just wondering…you don’t have cameras in your house, do you?
His response is almost immediate. Why? What’re you doing?
Oh, nothing.
Tell me.
Shaking my head, I smile as I type. I’m just making sure you can’t see me walking around. It would ruin your surprise for later.
So we’re playing this game, then? What if I said I did have cameras?
Then you’d know what I was wearing – or not wearing. You tell me, sheriff.
Are you walking around naked in my house, baby?
Not your baby. And no, I’m not naked – something better, I think.
There’s nothing better than you naked in my house. Nothing.
Well, aren’t you sweet?
No, I’m not. But I know for a fact that you are. My mouth is watering just thinking about tasting you right now.
Jesus. I may have to change my panties before even going out tonight. Sorry, sheriff. That’ll have to wait. You said 6 sharp, and I’m expecting a date before you taste the goods.
Fine. Just know that I’ll be thinking about ripping off whatever you have on and licking every inch of your body until you’re so dripping wet, I can slip right inside of you.
You could do that now.
Fuck.
Yes, sheriff, but later. You’re still on the clock.
Smiling, I toss my phone on the bed and finish getting ready. It’s already after five, and I have a feeling he’ll be coming home early.
When I’m dressed and ready, I head downstairs to wait for Ryan, but I can’t stop pacing. Eyeing Neruda on the couch where I left him earlier, I pick the small book up and place it back where I found it on the shelf–nice and hidden.
Scanning the shelves, I’m about to pull out a random book to read when I hear the door off the kitchen open, and heavy footsteps moving towards me with a hurried purpose.
Smiling, I turn around just as Ryan walks into the living room. “Well hello, sheriff,” I say, a little thrill in my voice. “You’re early.”
Without answering, he stalks forward, his eyes boring holes into mine until he’s towering over me–all six foot three inches of solid muscle and authority.
I’ve never wanted to break the law so badly, so long as it meant Ryan was the one arresting me.
Tilting my chin up, he lowers his mouth to mine in a gentle kiss. It’s far from the fevered aggression I was expecting, but it still makes my heart stutter in my chest.
“I’m going to change, and then we’ll go.”
“Do you have to change?” I smirk, biting my lip.
Laughing lightly, he shakes his head and backs away. “I do.”
“Fine,” I huff, pretending to be upset about it. Truth is, I want to go out with just Ryan, not Sheriff Taylor.
I wait for him on the couch, and he’s only gone for five minutes before I hear him come back into the room. Damn, this man can wear anything–or nothing–and I’m melting on the spot.
He changed into dark rinse jeans that show off his powerful thighs, and a white button-down shirt that does nothing to hide the broad chest and muscular arms beneath.
I want to fucking rip it open and see the taught ropes of muscles I was denied touching last night.
“You look so sexy, Ashley.” His low, rough, voice courses through me like the waters of the Amazon River–twisting, turning, and carving its own path through my veins.
With a small smile, I reach up and brush my fingers across his cheeks, his five o’clock shadow a perfect contrast against my skin. Pushing up on my toes, I kiss his soft lips with a tentativeness that scares me. I want to go slow. I want to savor every second.
Pulling back, I see the red lipstick I left behind and smile, wiping it with my thumb. “Sorry,” I say, his lips turning up beneath my touch. “I’m ready.”
“For our date,” he says, his eyes dancing.
“Yes.” I smile. “For our date.”
Grabbing my coat, Ryan holds it up for me, and I turn around, threading my arms through the holes. He shrugs his on as I button mine all the way up and tie the belt at the waist. Wrapping my scarf around my neck, I loop my arm through his, and we walk through the kitchen and out the side door, the cold air hitting me immediately.
“Are you up for walking? It’s not far, and because of the snow, there’s no parking.” He looks down at me with nervous eyes, thinking this might be a deal breaker. But fuck it, I’d walk a mile in the snow as long as it was with him.
Oh, sweet baby Jesus, I can’t believe I just thought that.
“I don’t mind. I feel like I haven’t been outside in a week. But I’ll need this then.” I pull out my white knit hat from my pocket that has a big white fur pompom on top, and my matching white knit gloves.
Laughing, he takes my arm again when I’m fully bundled up, and we start our trek. He only lives maybe a block off of the end of Main Street, so it shouldn’t be too bad.
The quiet surrounds us in a calming, cleansing sort of way. Only the crunching of our boots in the snow keeps us company.
“There’s someplace open on Main Street? The power only just came back on.”
“Anthony’s is open. They had generators to keep their freezers and refrigerators going.”
“Oh, good. I’m not trying to get sick,” I joke, looking up just in time to see him role his eyes.
“Like I’d take you somewhere we’d get sick. Plus, they wouldn’t dare poison their sheriff. I can have them arrested.”
“Ooh, look at you, just casually throwing your power around.”
“A man’s gotta do it sometimes.” He shrugs.
“And a woman.” I smirk.
“Of course. Women do it every day, though.”
“What?”
“You, as a species, have an automatic power over us men. No matter how much we’d like to think we can hold on to you, or boss you around, it’s you that decides everything.”
“Boss us around? What is this? The 50’s?”
“No.” He smiles. “But you know what I meant.”
“So, are you saying I have some sort of power over you because I’m a woman?”
“Yes,” he says simply.
“Hmm,” I hum, tapping a gloved finger to my chin. “Is there anything I can do with this power?”
“You can do just about anything, sweetheart. But I know you won’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, raising my brows.
“Nothing.” Looking away, I see his lips moving, muttering something under his breath, but I can’t make it out.
Uh, okay?
“So how was work? Catch any criminals?”
“No. The snow has made people stay quiet for a few days. But it’ll start up again.”
“What is it you do exactly as sheriff?” I ask, then quickly add, “there’s just so many branches–police, troopers, sheriffs–what’s the difference?”
“Well, small towns like Pine Cove don’t have separate police departments, so we are the police. I deal wit
h courthouse transfers, warrants, arrests, and general patrol. We’re everything, really.”
“Sounds tiring.”
He barks out a short laugh. “It is.”
“But you love it.” I smile, leaning into him.
“I do. I just wish there wasn’t so much paperwork attached.”
“Well, you should find a way to reward yourself after doing a certain amount of forms, or whatever your paperwork is. It would help keep things interesting.”
“Like what?” he says low, looking down at me, his blue eyes shining. “Can I call you? Maybe do a little phone sex?”
“Ryan!” I yell, hitting his chest. “You can’t be serious? Aren’t there people in your office? Tape recorders?”
“I didn’t hear a no in there.”
“Well, no, I guess you didn’t.” I laugh, the white puffs of my breath a stark contrast against the night.
“So, you’d let me?” His voice is low and hungry.
I’m not a shy person, but talking about this, I feel my cheeks heat under his gaze. “Maybe.”
“Alright, then.” He beams, his smile blinding me, and I can’t look away.
“Don’t get too excited there, sheriff.”
“Oh, we’ll both get excited all right.”
“Oh my God.” The words are forced from my lips with a laugh. He’s got jokes. And I fucking love it.
Turning onto Main Street, I almost slip on a patch of ice, but Ryan grips my arm tightly, holding me up until I’m steady again.
“Thanks,” I say, a little breathless.
“I can’t let you have a bruised ass, sweetheart. That’d ruin our night.”
“Of course that’s what you’d think of first. Not my safety.”
“Saving your ass is keeping you safe.”
“Mhmm. Whatever you say.”
Taking his arm out from mine, Ryan stops walking and slips his hand under my coat to grip my ass through my leather leggings, pulling me against him. “It is what I say, sweetheart,” he whispers in my ear, a little moan catching in my throat. “Got it?”
Nodding, my eyes dart up to his, and I’m met with the steely gaze I’m sure he uses to get his way at work. And I can guarantee they all do what he says, because it’s a look that’s causing my insides to simultaneously melt and twist in the most delicious of ways.
Her Maine Reaction Page 17